#one hour passes and we still haven't moved lol

[biteyoubiteme]

am/pm

fem!reader x bangchan 

synopsis: you start your new job at a book cafe and start falling for your coworker. 

warnings: 🔞!!! friends to lovers ?, praise, nipple play, oral (f!rec) multiple orgasms (f!rec), protected and unprotected sex (be safe pls they tried), creampie, use of the name baby, she/her, brat!reader kinda, whiny chan, choking (m!rec), spitting, cum eating, alcohol use, slight overstim (f!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 7.4k big oops lol kinda lost the plot

 an: breaking the norm from my regularly scheduled yeonkai post lol feedback is appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list]

you were nervous for your first day of work, worrying teeth leaving your lips red and sore. when you applied you thought it would be easy money, slow shifts where you could study at the register, the coffee shop attached giving you one free drink a shift. it was perfect but your anxiety was eating at you the entire walk to the bookstore. even the location was perfect, three minutes on your bike, a few more to walk. you didn’t even need to pick up new clothes, your usual attire fully excitable as long as you had your nametag visible. 

the store won't open for another hour but you need to come in early to go over the basics. Your boss told you that although he wasn't going to be there his best employee would show you the ropes. When you get to the building the door is locked and you have to knock on the glass to try and get someone's attention but you can't see anyone from where you are. When someone does notice you you're pacing the sidewalk picking at your nail polish. “so sorry about that i forgot you were coming in early today,” the accented voice mutters, the ding of the bell making you turn around. 

“It's okay,” you nod after a second. The man before you smiles, dimples and teeth on display, devastating enough to take someone out with a single glance. He holds the door open with his palm spread wide, still standing in the doorway so that when you pass you have to brush against his chest with your shoulder. 

“I'm Chan, I work at the cafe most days now but I was told you would be working the store register and stocking?” 

“Yes that's right,” you nod, taking in the small store, the dark hardwood floors creaking underfoot as you move further in. You had loved the store since your freshman year of college. The cafe at night was one of the only places that sold caffeine until late, the warm ambient lighting making it cozy. Even now with the morning light pouring in through the floor to ceiling glass windows, it was comforting, the smell of the freshly brewing pots of coffee waking you up. 

“Great, I worked that job for a while so I should be the best help with setting you up,” Chan pulls the door closed behind you, locking back up. He moves around you waving to follow after him to the back room. To get there we have to weave through the stands of books laid out on tables and stacked on shelves and you feel in over your head looking at all the inventory. “for the most part it's mostly register work. When we get a new release it goes out on the front tables and then the old ones get pushed back to the shelves. nothing too major. I'm sure once you get a hang of it you will be very bored,” 

“It's okay I brought homework,” you say, lifting your tote at your side. 

“ahh, good idea. and if you get bored of homework you could come mess with me at the cafe, I'm always trying to come up with new drinks although I've been told by the other baristas that I'm not very good at that,” he chuckles deep in his throat before turning a corner and pushing open another door. “break room and the cubbies for your stuff. I haven't had anything stolen but if you're worried the front has enough space under the counter for your bag or even if you want to have easy access to your books that's fine too,” he gestures at a desk in the corner, “you clock in and out there, I'm sure you were told how to set up your checks to be deposited?” 

“Yes,” you nod trying to pay attention to all the information. 

“Okay great so let's get your name tag I think it's…oh here! there you go,” he passes you the little magnetic tag for you to put on. you glance at his name tag, the koala sticker faded but still cute. “Then let's see the register and go over that before we open the store, it's a Monday so we are usually really slow so during your shift we can walk around and go over the sections but the computer will tell you where to find most any book here. there is also a map taped to the counter to help customers so you can see that to help you,” 

“got it, thank you,” you follow Chan out and the rest of the hour goes by with him cracking jokes and pointing out what shelves hold what books. When it was time for the doors to be unlocked it was anticlimactic because you only went back to having no one in the shop but the two of you. chan sitting on the stool behind his register for the cafe and you sitting on yours directly across the room. Chan had a book propped up to pass the time and you got started on your homework. your nerves are now officially gone with how calm it was going. 

Even when customers did come in, you breezed through it, Chan's watchful eye not prying but comforting enough to know he would swoop in and help if it was ever necessary. 

When another slow lull came and there were no customers Chan called across the short distance to ask you your coffee order, “I may be bad at coming up with new drinks but that doesn't mean I don't make mean drinks to begin with,” that dimpled smile hitting you right in the stomach. 

“surprise me I'm okay with anything when it's free,” 

“best perk about the job,” he agrees, turning to make you your drink. When he is done he brings it over to the register a small grin on his face as he passes the warm drink over. “go on try it,”

you take a sip humming your approval, “Oh wow that's really good,”  there was no lid on the paper cup to show off his latte art, the heart feathering out to where your lipstick stain hugs the rim. you wipe at the corner of your mouth catching the stray foam on your thumb and licking it off. 

chan is stuck watching your every move, all day he's been finding it hard to concentrate on anything he's doing. he was trying to play it cool even after your introduction, but he was caught the moment you turned around when he opened the door, your perfume making him want to lean in when you brushed past him. It didn't help that he was right across from you all day, the perfect seat for him to make sure you weren't struggling although that was an excuse because he knew how easy the job was he just wanted to watch you. 

Now you're basically moaning over something he made and he feels bad for having any thoughts about you. then you swipe at your lip, thumb in your mouth, how is he supposed to think about anything else? 

“cinnamon and apple?” you ask your gaze so attentive. 

“warm and cozy,” Chan smiles watching as you take another sip that hum caught right in the back of your throat and he wishes he could swallow the sound himself. but the jingling of the bell by the door jolts him back to reality. “let me get back,” 

“Thank you!” you call after him while the customers make their way through the shelves. Chan waves your words away,“Anytime,” 

later when both of your replacements come in for their shift Chan helps show you how to clock out and where you can find your schedule. “looks like we have morning shifts together,” he comments, “I'll have to give you my number so when you get to the door I can let you in,” it's an excuse really he could leave the door unlocked after he gets in, no one ever tries to come in that early anyways most of their customers come to study after class. 

“sure that works perfectly,” you smile unlocking your phone and passing it over, he does the same and you type your number in for him. 

“best barista?” you laugh when you see the name he plugged in. 

“Seungmin might not like that but who cares,” he chuckles, “best AM barista might be better,” 

you both walk out together and you notice you're headed in the same direction, “do you live over on Sixth?” 

“yeah, do you?” 

“the first apartment building on the corner,” 

“Me too!” The two of you were a few steps away from each other and Chan took the opportunity to catch up. “official walking buddies now? can't change fate,” 

“yeah okay,” you laugh, falling into step next to him. 

“The boss said you were in school, the campus right up the road?” 

“yeah, I have a lab at five actually,” 

“The shop is the perfect job for you then, my classes are also kinda late in the day so I get it,” he ruffled his hair and pushed back the strands from his forehead only to have them fall right back into place. The two of you make comfortable conversation until you make it to the lobby of your apartment building, Chan holding the door open for you before you press the elevator button. 

when you two make it into the elevator you ask him, “What floor?” as you press your own button. 

The space is small and he leans over to see the button panel, body heat, and his colleague filling the space. and you didn't mind it at all, he smelled like a mix of baked goods and sandalwood. “looks like we live on the same floor,” he chuckles, pulling back to stand straight. both of you are silent eyes trained ahead as you mutter, “Small world I guess,” 

“Very,” he nods, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. When the elevator dings and opens you wave goodbye as you both move down the opposite halls. He was about three doors down and when he got his key in he looked up with a smile waving before walking in. When you close the door to your apartment you lean against the door letting out the longestsigh you could muster. of course, your hot coworker shares your schedule and lives right down the hall. of fucking course. 

-

The following morning you're tugging on your coat, pulling the door closed and your tote bag keeps sliding down your shoulder. You're muttering profanities quite enough as you try to get the key into the lock when you don't hear Chan approach. you flinch so hard you think your heart stopped. “You scared me!” and Chan's giggling reached out for your tote bag pulling it from the crook of your arm where it kept falling. 

“I'm sorry I thought you heard me say good morning,” he slings your bag over your shoulder as you finally lock the door.“I was running a bit late so I thought why not just wait anyways since we are headed to the same place?” he's a little shy as he says it following you to the elevator, “although I know that defeats the purpose of giving you my number but you know thought that counts and everything right?” he's rambling his grip on the tote bag strap turning white-knuckled, his free hands at the back of his neck messing with his hair. 

“That works perfectly with me and I can carry my own bag,” the elevator dings as you say it and Chan shakes his head stepping in before you holding his hand out so the doors stay open. 

“I don't know how you carry this thing around its like a bag of rocks it's so heavy,” 

“textbooks,” you correct, leaning over him to press the lobby button. “although you're right I should get a better bag to carry them around but that one is so cute,” you run your fingers over the design that made you buy the tote in the first place, “everything is worth the struggle as long as its cute,” 

“agreed,” Chan nods, watching your fingers run up and down the fabric, your nails painted the prettiest shade of blue and he has to swallow to push away his thoughts of you wrapping your hand around him. but the image won't fade so he shakes his head trying to think of all the things he needs to do to set up for the day. 

He holds the door open for you the same way he had your first day, letting you brush past him only this time he's following you to clock in watching your hips sway in your skirt all the way to the break room. and when the day starts to go by he tries not to look your way as you press your pen to your lips every once in a while jotting down notes in the margins on sticky notes. watching you smile up at customers and helping them. 

chan brings you a coffee halfway through your shift when it is slow, this time it is sweet with caramel, “oh wow definitely best AM barista material,” you nod licking the whipped cream from your top lip. he flushes a deep red chuckling, “its nothing,” but he was starting to realize he would learn any drink combo to hear that hum over and over again. 

and when you're walking home together you laugh at his dad jokes making his heart flutter, he already can't wait until tomorrow to see you. 

-

You've been working at the store for about a month, and your routine is always the same. Chan waits by the elevator for you to walk, he makes you a new drink halfway through your shift, walks you back and you do it all over the next day. you realize it's the best part of your day and when you have the day off you're stuck wondering what Chan's doing, if he's wondering the same thing about you. it's late on one of your off days when he texts you, do you smell that or is that just my side of the hallway? and you know exactly what he's talking about. 

someone was cooking dinner in their apartment and the savory smell was wafting through from under the door making you hungry. 

definitely smelling something good if that's what you're asking

I think it's the people in front of me. Would it be wrong to show up with a bowl and ask for some?

not if you ask really really nicely I'm sure they will cough some up 

no, I'm too shy if they reject me I won't be able to ever leave my place again 

I'll bring my own bowl they can't turn away both of us if we beg 

seriously tho are you hungry because I'm starving and Seungmin texted me the cafe specials menu 

You're sure Chan would be able to hear you squeal all the way in his apartment. It wasn't a full-on offer out but it was close enough and your fragile little heart was consumed with its crush on Chan. he had you kicking your feet like a school girl and you couldn't help but smile. 

The best PM barista does make a mean sandwich 

be ready in 5? 

if he didn't hear you before the whole floor definitely did now. you jumped up from your couch to get ready. Maybe it was nothing, just two friends, coworkers, even going out, to your place of work, for a casual dinner. only you could tell yourself that all you wanted but it didn't stop your excitement. sure you saw Chan nearly every day but not usually when you weren't already scheduled to see each other. only once when you were both crossing paths in the lobby and that didn't count because you were late to class and rushing and he was with a friend, but that didn't stop the butterflies you felt when he gave you a wave and smile as you passed. 

You were ready in five minutes pulling your door closed to find Chan leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a dark jean jacket over a hoodie, his jeans fitting him just right. “ready?” he asked, pulling himself up to his full height. 

“yup,” it's a squeak as you say it, your cheeks colored in embarrassment. He was wearing a beanie with his ears peeking out from under the fabric. When you stepped outside you realized how cool it was outside, your thin sweater doing you no good. 

Chan holds the door open for you to lead the way, your arms crossed before you feel the heavy weight of his jean jacket slung on your shoulders. “You look a little cold there,” he smiles and you push your arms through the warm sleeves. it smells like him without the coffee scent usually following him after a shift. 

“thank you,” your fists wrapping around the oversized sleeves. 

When you make it to the cafe it's filled with light chatter, the golden glow from the lamps making the hardwood look shiny as you both stand in line for the cafe. your other coworkers behind the counters joking around as they make drinks and call out orders. You have gotten to know most of them when you have an occasional late shift but not as well as you got to know Chan. That was mainly because you two didn't have many customers in the morning time and you could talk even across the store without worrying about someone listening or scolding us. The night shifts were busy and most of the time a little loud. 

When you make it to the counter seungmin's warm smile greets you, “I know you,” he points but you can't miss the way his gaze falls to the jacket you're wearing and back to Chan his eyebrows raising but he doesn't ask. 

“We are here because I heard Chan's trying to come for your title of best barista,” 

“he can't make a coffee to save his life,” 

“Hey! I make excellent coffee,” 

“Because I taught you,” the smug smile on Seungmin's face made his cheeks round. “what can I get you two?” 

You both order reaching for your bag when you feel Chan's hand in the pocket of the jacket you are wearing. He is standing behind you, one hand on your arm and the other wrapped around to pull his wallet from where it's at your hip. “I got it,” he mumbles so close to your ear you almost shiver. “you can get it next time,” 

you give a slow nod trying to catch your breath before Seungmin asks, “Hey are you two coming out with us tomorrow night? they opened this new club downtown we wanted to go try,” 

“oh I don't know,” you shrug and Chan adds, “I'll go if you go,” he looks almost hopeful for you to say yes. 

“Well then sure why not? we can Uber there together,” 

“perfect i'll let the guys know,” Seungmin hands over the receipt with your order number, “should be out in a few,” 

“Thank you,” you and Chan say together, moving to the other side of the counter to wait for your things. When they come out Chan takes the tray and when you think he's going to turn to one of the empty tables he keeps going over to the bookstore side. you follow after him as he weaves his way to the break room. 

“kinda loud out there,” he says, setting the tray down on the little table they have set up. 

“Definitely different from how we usually see the store in the morning,” you agree, pulling out a chair to sit. The break room wasn't like most other breakrooms you had been to in other jobs. this one was set up like a cozy office, the building was old and well-kept enough to make every space look cozy. the lamp in the corner of the room giving the warm glow the others made in the cafe. you take a sip of your fruity drink not picking out a coffee this late when you didn't need the aid for an all-night study session. “now this is really good,” you say nodding down at your straw. 

“new menu item I haven't tried yet,” Chan sips his drink, an iced tea. “this one's good too, try it,” he slides his glass across the table toward you. 

Chan watches you take your sip from his drink, the hum he loves showing itself for the second time tonight. “good?” 

“Amazing, here try mine,” and so he does, nodding in approval. 

the two of you chat not even noticing how late it's getting by the time you're done and taking the tray back out to the cafe. most of the building is cleared of people, seungmin wiping down the counters when you leave. It's noticeably colder outside and you wrap your arms around yourself happy to have chan’s jacket for warmth or you would have had a cold the next morning for sure. Neither of you asked if this was in fact a real date or something between friends. you don't even notice that you have taken his jacket back to your apartment until you're changing for bed and realize you never took it off. 

-

The next morning when you leave for work you pass it back to Chan who smiles as he takes it back. “Thank you for that last night,” you say waving your hand as if you could cut through your embarrassment. Why was it that crushes made you feel like everything you did was so awkward? you were returning a jacket for crying out loud. It was totally normal, especially between friends but you couldn't help but blush. 

for the rest of the day, you two fall into your routine. Towards the end of your shift, a customer knocks over a display of books and you assure them you will pick them up once you're done checking them out, and it's no problem at all. Once they leave you bend to get the books picked up and Chan can't look away. you're wearing a skirt, the simple black panties you're wearing flashing him every once in a while as you reach over. He doesn't even notice he's overfilled the coffee cup in front of him until the coffee splashes down to his shoes. “oh fuck,” he mutters catching your attention as you restack the books. hes red from his cheeks to his ears as he wipes up the mess. but as he pushes the black rag around he can only think about you bending over, the fabric of your underwear hugging your skin dimpling the flesh of your ass. now he's over-wiping the counter thinking about it, so lost in thought he doesn't notice you come up to stand right at the till. “guess we both are having messy days,” your voice pulling him from his thoughts and he stammers over his words, “y-yeah messy,” 

but the word only fuels him, if anything was to be messy it needed to be you, he wanted too badly to make a mess of you. 

“I just saw the next shift workers walk in. Are you ready to head out?” 

“yes yes let me just put a lid on this, do you want anything to go?” 

“No, I'm good I don't need all that caffeine before heading out for drinks tonight,” Chan had forgotten about that but now he was thinking about what you were going to wear, about what it would be like going anywhere else besides work and the apartment building with you. 

When it's time to leave for drinks that night you text Chan you're ready and you book the Uber to come pick you two up.when you lock the door to your place and turn around to find Chan there you could have fallen to your knees at how downright edible he looked. those slouchy jeans showing a thin strip of the elastic to his underwear, the black tank hugging him in all the best places under his leather jacket. you wanted to hook your finger in the loop of his jeans and tug him to you and never let him go, link him to you like he was a keychain you couldn't remove easily. and his eyes were tracing up your bare legs, over the short ruffled shorts you wore, your own tank hugging you giving you the best cleavage. Chan's blush was so contradictory to his outfit and it made him so much cuter, eyes jumping to yours to not make it obvious that he was checking you out just as much as you were checking him out. “cars out front,” you say brushing past him. 

at the club, Chan could not stop watching you. 

you were sitting in the booth next to him and seungmin, lips around the straw of the drink in your hands, paying all your attention to Felix talking about a customer who gave him a hard time. 

“he just kept asking for a blue book over and over and I could not tell you how many blue books I pulled off the shelves for him,” your giggle was more intoxicating than anything in that room. 

“Did you find it?” 

“no! he walked out on me and to this day I question if he was just fucking with me or not,” 

The rest of the group was finally showing up and the booth was only so big. Chan rested his arm behind your head scooting until his leg was flush against yours so that the rest of them could fit comfortably. He hated how jealous he was feeling as you paid everyone more attention than he was getting. and when Hyunjin asked you to dance he could have ground his teeth to dust. “sure!” your drink is empty in front of you. 

you were in the middle of the booth and Hyunjin was on the end so he stood making room for the others to move but they didn't hear the request over the sound of the music. “Just jump over,” seungmin laughed but you followed his suggestion like it was the best idea, mostly because you were a little tipsy and needed to be out of the booth after being squashed in it for over an hour. you brought your knees up to your chest before putting your hands on Chan's shoulder to push yourself up to stand on the seat. As if you were a beacon all of them turned to watch you if they weren't listening before they would be now. Chan's hand reached out to your thigh to steady you, the warmth of his palm sinking right to your stomach. there were only two people besides you to jump over and both of them leaned back as Hyunjin reached his hands out to help you. you laughed as you jumped over, hyunjin's hands on your waist helping you most of the way but the second Chan's hand was gone you wanted it back. 

Hyunjin pulled you to the dance floor keeping you within the eye line of the table. the bodies of everyone pushing you and Hyunjin together until you were completely pressed with your back to his front. “Want to make Chan jealous?” his mouth pressed into your ear so that you could hear him over the music. 

“What?” hyunjin's hand slid over your waist right where your tank top met the top of your shorts. 

“We have a bet going that he won't last two songs until he's dragging you away from me,” Hyunjin guides your hips to grind against him and your eyes flicker to find Chan's gaze burning into you two. if looks could kill Hyunjin would be six feet deep. 

“he won't fall for it,” you shake your head but not for wanting to see if it actually would work. 

“want in? or do you not like him like that? because he sure as hell likes you like that I mean look at him,” and you do, the rim of his glass pressed to his bottom lip, eyes devouring you as Hyunjin's hand slips your tank up revealing a thin strip of skin. he's still with his arm slung over your empty seat, the rise and fall of his chest showing off his pecks. you raise one arm reaching behind you to tug on Hyunjin's hair and Chan follows the movement, jaw tight as he sets his glass down.  

“how much if he doesn't last one song?” 

“a lot more than if he doesn't last two,” Hyunjin chuckles and maybe it is the drinks talking but you nod, “Add me in, I'll Take that bet,” your free hand covers one of Hyunjin dragging it up your ribs as you let him guide your hips against his. 

it doesn't take long for Chan to leave the booth at all. 

Chan does not know what comes over him as he watches you with Hyunjin only that he needs to be the one touching you if anyone at all is to be doing any touching at all. Hyunjin lets you go with no question, slapping Chan on the back before making his way back to the booth. you honestly can't believe it worked as well as it did, the way that Chan didn't even last half a song let alone two. “I didn't know you felt that way about me,” your smile teases as Chan grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest as if he can erase the feeling of hyunjin on your skin. 

“Seriously? The heavy staring hasn't been enough because I thought my cover was blown the first day,” his smile is lazy, the drinks hitting him in just the right way. 

“first day? not just because your friends set you up?” 

“nope,” his hands slide down the curve of your ass until they are cupping you, tugging your body even closer to him, he's hard in his jeans, the bulge digging into your stomach. “they definitely didn't need to try hard at all, not when I want you this bad already,” 

your hands slide up his chest and round to the back of his neck, “Maybe I'm a little oblivious and I need you to tell me in great detail that you like me or I might not be privy to believing you at all,” the way that you're looking at each other is consuming, so much so that you don't realize him dipping closer until his nose is brushing against yours. eyes fluttering shut you tilt your head ready for his kiss when he stops right as they barely brush, “if you needed me to praise you all you needed to do was ask,” 

“Isn't that exactly what I was doing?” you nudge your nose against his trying to reach his lips as he pulls away grinning wide, dimples on display. 

“I guess you could say that,” one of his hands slid up your back to hold the base of your skull. 

“You're teasing me,” your pout made Chan want to kiss you even more. 

“I think they have another bet going that I can't last one song before dragging you out of here and I'm pretty sure once I get my mouth any closer to you they will be right and I'll lose out on $100,” Chan can feel you laugh against his chest, the rumble in your chest drawing him closer. 

“What makes you think I'm leaving with you?” You're taunting him now, fingers running through his hair as he squeezes your ass hard enough to make your pussy lips open. 

“We drove here together,” he states and you fuck with him a bit more, “but I heard Hyunjin has a car I can catch a ride in,” 

Chan can't stand the sound of anyone else's name coming out of your mouth when he's this hard when you're pressed so close to him. he finally kisses you, soft lips tasting like tangy alcohol. he wants to channel the last month into this kiss, every want and glance. he can hear his friends cheering from the table but he couldn't care less not when you're here. 

when you pull away you're breathless, “do you still win if I drag you out of here?” 

Chan can't form words before you pull him after you, your hand fisted into his top. his tongue pressed to his cheek, his grin so wide no one could miss it even if they tried. when you walk past the table you point at them, “You own me!”  

but they are all forgotten the second you're out in the cold air. you shiver, pulling out your phone to order an Uber and Chan slings his jacket over your shoulders just like the night before. The leather is warm and soft against your skin and he wraps his arms around your hands sliding past the jacket and wrapping around you. his bare arms rippling and you could bite him with how good he looks flexing right now. you don't even care that he could be getting cold when this is the view. 

Chan is all over you once you climb into the Uber, “safety first,” he mutters into your mouth before he pulls your seatbelt around you to buckle. You could laugh at how cautious he is but the seatbelt doesn't stop him from trying to pull you close enough to almost be in his lap, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck and to your chest. never in your life have you ever spoken in an Uber let alone almost strip in the backseat but if Chan had asked you would have. and when you're in the elevator you almost forget to press what floor you're trying to make it to, chan asks if you want to go to your place or his, and your response is you pulling his keys from his front pocket fingers brushing his straining cock making him whine in your ear. “Yours,” you say into your kiss, pressing the keys to his chest before he's dragging you to his door fumbling with the key ring. 

Chan pushes his jacket from your shoulders once the door is closed and locked behind him. your hands jolt out to grab both his biceps and he stops in his tracks, “do we need to slow down?” the pure concern on his face is enough to make your knees weak, “we can stop if it's too much,” you will kindly choke on him for being so worried. 

“no, I want you to fuck me I just really wanted to see sturdy the handles ill be holding will be when you're in me,” your nails dig into his arms and he gives a soft whine. 

“You're so fucking perfect,” it's a groan into your mouth as he wraps himself back around you walking you backward towards the bedroom. he slaps the lights on before you make contact with the bed. he breaks the kiss letting you sit, the comforter soft against your bare legs. chan gets to his knees in front of you tugging off your boots, kissing the inside of your knee, and sending a bolt right to your center. “How many times do you think I can make you cum?” He asks pulling off your socks before kissing up your thigh. He runs his hands up your calves before grabbing the back of your knees and spreading your legs. 

“I don't know you might have to try really hard to get me there once,” he scoffs before nipping your inner thigh with his teeth, your knees instantly try to close but he shakes his head. 

“Maybe we start our own bet, I get you to come at least three times and then you owe me another date,” 

“Another one? could you remind me of the first time?” 

“I haven't fucked you hard enough to forget simple things yet baby,” he stands tugging his tank top off by pulling the back of the collar. your mouth is dry at the sight of him leaning back on your hands to take him in. Those jeans are low on his hips as he toes out of his shoes, “take your top off,” he nods, popping the button of his jeans. 

you follow your orders, you're braless, nipples already hard and aching for attention. “You listen so well,” he tugs the zipper of his jeans down but doesn't pull his pants down. Instead, he leans over you, kissing you down your neck until he makes it to your tits, sucking one nipple between his teeth and rolling the other one between his fingers. you open your legs to him, your shorts are too tight all of a sudden, too hot. lacing your fingers in his hair you throw your head back as he gives your nipple a tug with his teeth before switching to the neglected side. you moan rolling your hips into his clothed bulge and he sinks deeper into the cradle of your hips. “the prettiest girl making the prettiest sounds,” you whimper at his words knowing you are completely soaked. 

chan pulls away letting you lay out on the mattress before he hooks his fingers in your shorts and panties tugging them down your legs. he moans at the sight of you laid out before him, he tugs one of your legs to the side to reveal more of you to him, glistening under the lights. never has he been so excited to devour someone and that's just what he does, not waiting before his mouth is on you. he groans against your clit the vibration making your knees weak, “you taste as good as you look,” he wraps his arms under and around your thighs to spread you wide before diving back in. 

your hands twist in his duvet, your orgasm building faster than it ever has before. your back arching off the bed before you start riding his face so close to the edge that you don't expect his fingers until they are pressed right against the gummy spot inside you and you’re seeing spots as you cum. Chan is licking you clean as you ride out your high before he stands fingers in his mouth watching your legs twitch. “That was one,” a cocky grin present as he moves around to the nightstand to pull out a condom. 

you sit up on your elbows watching him strip, thick veiny cock hitting his stomach. He climbs up on the bed resting against the pillows and headboard before rolling the condom on. “if your legs still work I'd love it if you gave me a ride,”

“and if they don't?” you ask watching him spit into his hand before grabbing himself and tugging loosely. 

“I'll sit here and finish by myself but wouldn't it be so much fun to watch me disappearing into you?” you can feel yourself flutter at the thought. pulling yourself up and crawling up the bed to chan he grabs your hips to help steady yourself as you straddle him. you sink your hips down letting your wetness coat the condom, Chan's head is thrown back as he whines, “Please don't tease me,” his thumbs digging in hard enough to bruise your waist like a belt. 

“Whiny baby,” you coo, pressing a kiss over his pulse, the rapid beating so similar to your own as you reach down between you two to guide him to your entrance. Chan is gasping when you sink onto him, slowly inching down and rising every few strokes before you're finally stretched enough to sink fully seated on him. his tight stomach fluttering under your hands as you use him as leverage to rise again. you can feel him so deep he's kissing your womb, right in your throat.“god you're so fucking warm, just fucking right,” he moans half-lidded eyes watching where your bodies meet, you'regoing too slow for him and he flicks his hips up to watch himself disappear in the sweetest cunt he's ever had. 

“you're so big,” you whimper reaching for one of his hands to press into your pelvis, the added pressure makes your head fall forward in a moan, “you feel so good,” 

“Choke me please,” he moans head on the pillows as he plants his heels to get more leverage to thrust into you, “please,” the whimper he lets out nearly sends you over the edge. you use one of your hands to wrap around his throat, the vein pulsing under the tips of your fingers. “harder baby I can take it,” you nod at his words increasing the pressure you have on him, his eyes fluttering shut as he snaps his hips up into you. He keeps his hand pressed to your pelvis and he can feel each thrust meet the heel of his palm. your knees planted firmly against the mattress he lets go of your hip to press his thumb into your clit. you cry out as he keeps up his brutal pace rubbing your clit in circles and driving you over the edge. you can't even move as he pulls out not wanting to cum at the feel of you squeezing him just yet. your hand still around his neck as you come down from your high, breathing labored. 

“That was two,” he smirks when you sit up, twitching when your clit brushed his thigh. “onto three,” he wraps his arms around you flipping you over so that you're now laying where he had been. he pushes your legs up so that your shins are against his chest. he can't help himself, he's not even in you and he's trying to rut against your legs, his whines and moans sounding almost pained. “please I need to feel you, all of you,” he begs, “I promise ill pull out I just want to feel you,” his breathy pleas pressed right into your ear, hair sticking to your sweaty cheeks. You're holding onto his shoulders nodding without thinking twice because you need to feel him so bad. He reaches down to roll the condom back off not caring anymore about anything but being in you as deep as possible. As close as possible.  

you cry out when he sinks back in, so much warmer and thicker than before, every ridge in his cock fitting perfectly with you. your hands slip down to his biceps nails digging back in as you hold on as Chan snaps his hips forward moaning deep enough that you feel the rumble in his stomach pressed against your legs. 

chan is fucking you so hard the headboard is hitting the wall, he's pounding in over and over that your toes are curling. Then he sinks his hips finding a new angle until he's hitting your gummy spot, your head falls back and he presses his open mouth to your neck moaning against your skin the feeling singing all the way to your teeth. “I needed to feel you, I needed to feel that you're mine,” his words are choppy as he keeps up his pace. “you feel so fucking right,” he pulls back enough to push your legs a bit wider and he's back to his pace, your back arching into him. You're full of electricity, every nerve humming as he rocks back and forth. you can feel him twitch inside you and Chan knows he wouldn't be able to pull out even if he tried. 

he fully seats himself in you as he cums, thick hot ropes of it filling you up. his moan is so loud in your ear and the feeling of his release triggers your third orgasm, your cry half scream as you follow right after him. 

Chan's never cum so much in his life, his hips moving lazily as you flutter around his cock taking everything he has to offer. when he pulls out a trail of your mixed fluids follows, so much so that it makes a puddle on the duvet under you. Chan runs his finger through the cream rubbing it up your clit and back down to your entrance before he leans over and licks you clean. “Chan!” your knees are shaking, tears threatening to spill as he pulls himself back up pressing his mouth to yours and letting some of the cum he's collected spill onto your tongue. he kisses away the saltiness before pulling back, to gaze down on you, “that was three, looks like you owe me one more date,”

[graciegoeskrazy]

she's begging you to stay stay

Matty Healy + preteen!lost!daughter!OFC!r

warnings (buckle up): angst, little fluff, language, absent father, dead mom, cancer, children's home, R IS TWELVE, foster care, insomnia, a lot of these things are mentioned but aren't in graphic detail at all. R HAS A NAME IM TRYING SOEMTHING

a/n: I got this request and was lowk kinds unsure but I just started and couldn't stop typing. im nil a lot of that I post is super short but this like literally like 7 thousand words which Ig is pretty standard but whatevs for me its crazy. I might actually hate this I genuinely haven't decided yet. anon depending on what you think im ether sorry or you're welcome lol <3

You sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the peeling wallpaper, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You feel a mix of grief and numbness, a strange emptiness you can’t quite shake. The scent of mold and old candles is an odd comfort to the starkness and uncomfort of the room around you. You hear the faint sound of Nora’s voice drifting through the thin walls. You don’t move, just keep staring at your hands in your lap, the same position you’ve held for 3 days now, pretending not to hear the voice on the other side of the wall.

“Is this Matthew Healy?” she says, her voice steady.

“Depends. Who’s this?” The voice on the other end is wary, guarded.

“This is Nora from Wess Hill Children’s Home in London. How are you today?”

She could hear shuffling on the other side. “Fine. What’s this about?”

Nora takes a deep breath, glancing at your continuing. “Mr. Healy, on Tuesday we got a call asking for an emergency placement for a girl. Her mother passed away. She’s 12 years old, name is Matilda Moss - does that ring a bell?”

If you were right next to Nora you would have felt the unamusement in his voice. “‘Fraid not, ma’am.”

Nora’s expression tightens slightly. “Interesting. What I find really interesting is that on her birth certificate, it lists you, Mr. Healy, as her biological father.”

There’s a long pause. “I’m sorry, what?”

Nora sighs, her eyes softening as she looks back at your door again. “I’m sorry you have to find out this way, truly. But I have a home that only fits 24 and a long waitlist of children, so I need to know if I need to send this child into foster care or tell her that her father will be coming to see her.”

“W-Wait a minute. How are we even sure it’s my child? There could be thousands of other white blokes in London with the same name. How can I even believe you? How do I know you’re not a scammer or some idiot trying a prank?”

Nora’s voice remains calm, but there’s still an edge. “Does the name Florence Moss mean anything to you, sir? Ring any bells?”

The line went silent.

“I need to know what it’s gonna be, sir. I’m not trying to inconvenience you either way; I just need an answer.”

You hear a long sigh on the other end. “I-I don’t…I don’t know—”

“She was sick, Matthew. Cancer.”

There’s a heavy silence. Then, Nora speaks again, her voice gentle but firm. “Her will clearly states that in the unforeseen circumstance of death, She wanted her daughter to be placed with her father, you.”

Another pause. “What’s her name again?”

“Matilda George Moss-Healy.”

“And she’s 12?”

“12 and 2 months.”

A soft exclamation, almost a whisper. “Wow. I’ll be there at 3.”

It didn’t matter what Nora could do or say or give you to make you feel better, There was nothing that could be done in order to make the past 3 days not feel like a living hell. There was nothing you, yourself, could physically do to make the permanent ache in your heart disappear. The only thing, you thought, that could make this all go away, that could make this nightmare end, was your mother. But she was gone, and there was nothing that could be done. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize that in just a few hours, you’ll meet the man you’ve wondered about your entire life.

—-------

If there was one thought that was evidently clear in Matty’s mind, it was that he needed to call George.

His hands trembled slightly as he fumbled for his phone, the sleek device feeling unusually heavy in his grasp. He pressed it to his ear, each ring seeming slower and slower as it rung. He paced the small, cluttered room, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Finally, George’s voice crackled through the line, casual and unbothered. “Sup, dipshit.”

“I just got the strangest call,” Matty said, his voice strong, skipping over the usual pleasantries.

“‘Kay?” George’s tone was wary.

“From a woman working in a children’s home?” Matty continued, his mind still reeling from the conversation.

“What charity they want you to perform now?” George asked, his voice light but curious.

“No, it’s not that.” Matty paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s about Flo? Florence Moss?” Matty’s voice wavered slightly, the name stirring up a flood of memories.

There was a noticeable pause, the air thick with anticipation. “Woah! That’s a name I never thought I’d hear again!” George finally replied, his tone shifting to something lighter, a huge comparison to Matty’s frantic state.

“So that’s a yes?” Matty pressed.

“You kidding? I LOVED Flo. She was like a sister to me! Shame though, innit?” He said, refurrging to the breakup Matty and Florence went through. “Anyways, what about her?” His voice softened.

“She died, George. Couple days ago. Cancer.” Matty’s words were blunt, but they carried a heavy weight.

Another long pause followed, the silence almost deafening. “You doin’ a bit? ‘Cause it’s not funny, mate-”

“It’s not a bit. And she had a child.” Matty’s voice broke slightly, the reality of the situation hitting him.

“What?” George’s shock was palpable, even through the phone.

“Who has my name on the birth certificate?” Matty continued, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Not shittin’ you.”

George was in pure disbelief. “How can you be sure?”

Matty ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. “Um, ‘cause Flo and I were together for like two fucking years and we broke up like 12 years ago and the girl’s age is 12?”

“It’s a GIRL? Oh mate, you’re fucked.” His bluntness would usually make him light, but this time it made him nearly question his entire life.

“Not the sentiment I need right now.” Matty snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“What are you gonna do?” George’s voice was calmer now, but still tinged with concern.

“I-I feel like I have to go get her? Right? Otherwise, she’s off to foster care? I mean, she’s my child. Right? I don’t know. Maybe not.” Matty’s words tumbled out in a rush, his uncertainty evident.

George sighed, a long, weary sound. “I think you’re fucked either way.”

“Oh, thanks sooooo much, Uncle George,”

“No. I mean, if you bring this girl with you, raise her, be a dad, do whatever the fuck, your life is gonna change, right? If you call that woman back, tell her to send her into foster care, although that woman might legally have to tell you ‘Okay. Thank you,’ we both know you would never forget her and maybe even end up regretting that choice.”

Matty stood in silence. He knew his friend was right. No matter what he chose, his life was about to be irrevocably changed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders, pressing down with a relentless force.

—-------

“Hi, um, I’m looking for Nora?” His voice echoed slightly in the wide, institutional hallway.

“Ah, you must be Matthew. Nice to meet you.” Nora’s voice, though warm, had an undertone of weariness, like someone who had spent years navigating the complicated emotions of others. She shifted uneasily. “I informed Matilda of your…arrival today…and she’s not the happiest about it.”

“Meaning?”

“She won’t come out of her room.”

“Oh. Great.” Matty ran a hand through his hair, worry clear on his face.

“Just…keep in mind she’s still mourning.” Nora’s sing-song voice couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation. She led him down a narrow hallway, the walls adorned with children’s drawings and faded motivational posters. The scent of old wood, cleaning supplies, and the faintest hint of sadness hung in the air.

“Tilly! Someone’s here to see you.” Nora’s voice called out cheerfully, a futile attempt to coax you out.

“Matilda! Come on out, darling, it's alright.” She paused, listening for any sound of movement. “You know I have the key right here; I can just open it if I wanted to.” Nora said, voice comedic for the times. “Tilly, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

After a silent few seconds, she took her ring of keys and picked one to unlock your door.

Inside your room, you sat curled up on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest. The peeling wallpaper, once probably a cheerful pattern, now seemed to close in around you, a suffocating reminder of the world outside your door. The scent of mildew and the faint smell of your mother’s perfume clung to your clothes, creating a strange, bittersweet comfort. Nora’s voice penetrated the cocoon of silence you’d wrapped yourself in.

“Tilly, this is Matthew.” Nora’s voice softened, a hint of sympathy in her words. “He’s here to take you home, my love.”

You visibly winced at the word ‘home.’ Home was a concept that had shattered the day your mother died.

Nora took a step towards your bed, slowly rubbing your back in order to coax you to come out. “Why don’t you sit up, my love?” Nora said gently. You didn’t move.

She sighed. “C’mon, Tills.”

With a heavy sigh, you slowly uncurled yourself and sat up.

Matty felt out of place, a stranger in a place that was the closest thing you had to refuge.

“I’ll just leave you two alone for a moment. I’ll be right outside.” Nora closed the door softly, leaving you and Matty in an awkward silence.

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. The room seemed to shrink around him as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’ve gone through a lot in the past 48 hours,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his own emotions was evident, and he hesitated, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

You looked up at him, your eyes red from crying. The raw pain and vulnerability in your gaze made his heart ache. “You don’t have to take me with you out of…guilt,” you said, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to be here now just because you didn’t want to be here before.” The accusation hung in the air, a heavy reminder of his absence in your life.

He winced, the truth of your words cutting deep. “It’s not guilt, Matilda,” he replied, taking another step closer. “I genuinely didn’t know. If I had, things would have been different. I would have been there for you and your mother.” His voice broke slightly, the regret palpable. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here now because I want to be. Because you deserve better than what you’ve been given.”

You studied his face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His eyes were earnest, the sorrow in them mirroring your own grief. “Why didn’t she tell you?” you asked, the question that had been gnawing at you since you learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the unknown. “Maybe she thought it was for the best. Maybe she was scared. I wish I had the answers, but all I can do now is be here for you.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken questions and the ghosts of what might have been. “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about you,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “And now you’re here, and I don’t know what to think.”

He nodded, understanding the turmoil within you. “I can’t change the past, Matilda. But I can promise you this: I will do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and cared for. I’ve got a house, with a nice room, food, and I think staying there would be better than the rotting twin mattress you’re sitting on in the smallest room I have ever seen that’s probably infested with black mold.”

“Everywhere in London has black mold,” you muttered, a hint of defiance in your voice.

“Mine might have less?” He offered a tentative smile. “Come home, Matilda.”

“I don’t have a home. Not anymore.” Your voice was barely a whisper, the pain of loss weighing heavily on your words.

“I’m not saying this has to be forever. If you want to leave and go live with someone else, then that’s fine by me, but if you don’t come with me tonight, they’re gonna put you in foster care with a family who more than likely won’t give a shit about you.” He paused, gauging your reaction. “She didn’t tell you that, did she?”

You shook your head, the reality of the situation sinking in. “I don’t want you to go somewhere without knowing that you’ll be safe.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked surprised, almost disbelieving.

You paused once more, “...Okay.”

—-------

Matty let you be for a moment as he told Nora about the news. She was overjoyed and surprised as well. They let you know that Matty would be taking you home. As they talked, your mind wandered, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within you. You glanced around the room, noticing every detail—the worn carpet, the sagging ceiling, the chipped paint on the window sill. Everything felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream you couldn't wake up from.

You tried to grab his attention, your thoughts racing. You almost called out saying ‘Dad’ but stopped yourself just in time, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue. The idea of calling him that seemed too intimate, too close for someone who had been a stranger just hours ago. Your mother had always been careful with her words when you asked about your father. She painted vague pictures of him, always avoiding specifics. Now that he was here, standing just a few feet away, the reality of his presence was overwhelming.

Would ‘Matty’ be awkward? He was indeed your father, but calling him that didn’t feel right either. You had no shared history, no foundation of familiarity. The name felt too casual, too friendly for someone who had suddenly appeared in your life amid the chaos and grief. You felt a pang of frustration, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you.

As you struggled with your thoughts, you offered a simple “Hey,” to get his attention instead. Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters of this new, uncertain relationship. He turned to you, his expression a mixture of relief and anxiety, mirroring the storm of emotions within you.

He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes searching yours for a connection. "Hey," he replied, his voice warm but cautious. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of an unknown future, bound together by circumstance and the fragile hope that perhaps, in time, you could find your way to each other.

“I’m all ready to go, I think.”

“Awesome. I’ll get your things in the car.” He moved to gather your suitcases, his movements quick and efficient.

Nora hugged you tightly, her smile warm and genuine. “I’m happy for you, Matilda. You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and you’re doing so good.”

“Thank you for your help, Nora.” Your voice was soft, but there was a hint of gratitude in your words.

Her smile deepened as she led you from the desk to the front door. “I hope you know it comes from a good place when I say, I hope I never see you again.” The words made you laugh for the first time in three days, just a little, but it was a victory Nora cherished.

Matty muttered a few words when joining you in the car after bidding farewell to Nora. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at him.

“You allergic to dogs? I’ve got one. His name is Mayhem. Weird name for a dog, I know, but it suits him—not that he’ll be a problem or anything. He’s a good boy.” He tried to fill the silence, his voice almost nervous.

“Do you usually not talk this much?” You shrugged, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery.

“Only when my mom dies.” Your words were blunt, a stark reminder of the grief still fresh in your heart.

Oh, so she definitely has my humor. Matty thought to himself, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. The drive was filled with awkward silences and hesitant attempts at conversation, but beneath it all was a shared sense of loss and a fragile hope for something better.

—-------

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow over the cluttered room. You continue to scroll on your phone as you pull the worn, thin blanket back over your shoulders. A yawn crosses your features. It wasn't your plan to be up at 3 a.m., but insomnia has become a close friend since your mother passed away. It's been three weeks and four days since you moved in with Matty. He made it very clear from the beginning: if you didn’t want to live with him, that was fine. He was in full support of whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe. He was ready and willing to have the conversation with you as soon as possible. Having your mother die of cancer, meeting your father for the first time, burying your mother, adjusting to a new life you had no clue you would be living just a month ago, and so on and so forth took its toll. You started to worry that the waiting game of seeing how long this quiet could last was starting to run out.

The footsteps walking down the steps and into the kitchen pulled you out of your drowset state. It was matty, dress in blue lounge pants and shit, complete with a random flannel that you would bet he just picked up off the floor and threw on before he come downstairs,

"Good morning," he says with a yawn, his voice low but still awake, a stark comparison to your drowsiness.

"It's 3 a.m.," you reply, your voice tinged with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Yeah, it's the morning," he says, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He holds out a steaming mug, the rich aroma of coffee wafting towards you. "Want some?"

"Sure," you say, accepting the mug and wrapping your hands around it, savoring the warmth that seeps into your skin.

You take a sip, the bitter taste jolting you awake. You look anywhere except his direction."You a musician?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he nods, taking a seat across from you. "You?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head. You watch him, trying to piece together the fragments of your mother’s stories with the reality in front of you.

“Do you know why my mom used to tell me I was named after my father and an ‘old friend.’"

"‘Old friend’?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, my middle name. Matilda came from ‘Matty’,you knew that, but where did my middle name come from?” you continue, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability.

"What's that again?" he asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. Also trying to not secretly swell with love as he was reminded of your similarities.

"George. Matilda George."

"George. Your middle name is George?" He looks at you with an expression you can't quite read.

"Jeez, I know it’s a guy's name but you don’t have to be a dick about it—" you snap, feeling defensive.

"No! No! It’s not that I just…" he trails off, shaking his head. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and walks towards you. "This is George." He shows you a photo, and judging by the state of Matty’s facial hair, it’s a semi recent one. The pair are on what looks like a stage, together. Drum sticks in George’s hand, and a Guitar in your father’s.

"You know him?" you ask, your confusion deepening.

He smirked. "We’ve been best friends since we were 13. Him and your mother were friends since practically birth. He introduced us to each other." He pauses, seeing the confusion etched on your face. "She never mentioned him?"

"She never mentioned you, so," you retort, the bitterness in your voice surprising even you.

You stare into your coffee, the steam rising and swirling in the dim light. You decide to speak up, trying to change the mood hanging in the air. "She also said my father traveled the world a lot, loved his friends, and loved me, but couldn’t take care of me," you say softly, repeating the words your mother had told you countless times. "You travel a lot?"

"Something like that," he replies, his eyes distant as if he's seeing a different time and place.

—-------

Matty didn’t like leaving you for too long, so he kept to working from home as much as possible.​​ Today, he said he needed to help George with something and then he would be back with dinner from your favorite restaurant. He’s done this a few times before and each time, again and again, the urge to play the stunning grand piano situated in the corner of his office grew more. 

You kept away from it. There were even spots or rooms in the house that you kept away from. Even though you and Matty were so much more comfortable, it still felt like there were boundaries, unspoken lines you weren’t sure you could cross. His office was one of those places, a domain you didn’t feel entirely comfortable invading. The grand piano, with its polished ebony surface and ivory keys, seemed like an artifact from another world, a world that you weren’t quite a part of yet.

Today, though, was different. The house was unusually quiet, the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway amplifying the stillness. You wandered through the rooms, your footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floors. You paused by the door to Matty’s office, your hand resting on the doorknob. You glanced around, as if expecting someone to stop you, but the house remained silent.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the room. The grand piano sat in the corner, almost beckoning you. You walked over to it, your fingers grazing the smooth surface. You hesitated for a moment, then gently lifted the lid.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the bench. The familiar scent of polished wood filled your senses, bringing back memories of when you used to play. Your fingers hovered above the keys, and then, almost instinctively, they began to move. The first notes were tentative, but as you continued, they grew more confident, filling the room with music.

You closed your eyes, letting the music take over. The melody was a blend of old memories and new emotions, a testament to the changes in your life. The piano seemed to respond to your touch, the sound resonating deep within you. You lost track of time, immersed in the music, the outside world fading away.

You didn’t notice the front door opening or the soft footsteps approaching the office. Matty stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He had come home earlier than expected, and the sight of you playing the piano was both unexpected and heartwarming. He leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment.

Once the last notes sounded, he spoke, startling you as you took your hands off the keys. “Sounds beautiful,” he said softly.

You jumped slightly, your fingers slipping off the keys. You turned to see him standing there, a gentle smile on his face.

“When did you get home?” you asked, a bit flustered.

“Just now,” he replied casually, stepping into the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

“Long enough to realize you lied to me,” he said, his smile turning into a teasing grin.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“You’re a musician! You play piano.”

You paused, thinking, then continued. “Well, you lied to me too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“You never mentioned you were in a band. A really famous one!”

His expression changed. “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “Well, what do you say when you're meeting your 12-year-old daughter for the first time? I don’t know, but I do know it’s definitely not ‘Nice to meet you, I’m famous,’ I’ll tell you that.” You couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “How’d you find out?” He asked.

You adjusted your posture and spoke. “I finally told my friends, and we did an internet deep dive in English class.”

He chuckled. “And I wonder why that’s the only class with a B.” He said, leaving the room as he did so.

You followed behind him, the both of you now making your way to the kitchen. “Is that why she said you traveled a lot? Because you were on those tours?” you asked, the pieces starting to fit together.

“I can only guess,” he replied, shrugging. You sat on one of the bar stools, across from where he was unpacking the groceries and starting to prepare dinner.

“Have you ever met Beyoncé?” you asked, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Only in passing,” he said nonchalantly, keeping his focus down.

You sat up in shock. “Really?!” You asked, mouth agape.

“I mean, yeah. It’s hard not to go to the Grammys and not walk past her and Jay-Z’s table.”

“You’ve been to the Grammys?” you asked, amazed.

“Yeah, we were nominated.”

You honestly couldn;t believe it. While spending that time on the internet earlier, a lot of the pieces were starting to come together. It’s just that you didn’t expect your own father - I guess I should start calling him that now - to be this huge ‘star’. “Shut up! Did you win?”

He laughed and looked you in the eyes. “Do you see a shiny gold trophy in our home? Should’ve though.” You shook your head in amazement. “How long have you been playing?” he asked, after a moment.

You became a bit quiet again, not impressed by the fact the conversation was heading this direction. “I don’t know,”

“What was it that Miss Julia said? About being open and honest with each other or something like that-”

“Ten years,” you interrupted, shooting him an unimmpressed look. He just smiled.

“Wow. How the hell did your mother get a two-year-old to stand still?” He asked.

“Well, I was an angel,” you said, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Really? What happened then?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic sigh. “Those dad jokes kicked in real fast, didn’t they?”

The room seemed to grow warmer as the two of you shared this moment. The room grew quieter, but it felt different than before. It felt, comfortable. The kind of comfortable silence you only felt with your mother. Even if it wasn’t exact - even knowing you might not ever feel that exact comfortable silence ever again - this one felt nice. It felt…right.

“You know, you’re really good,” He said.

Your eyes followed back to him after his voice took you out of your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks after deciding to not turn the compliment into something cheeky.

“I mean it,” he continued. “You have a natural talent.”

You just hummed. And he was glad to see you smile a true smile for the first time.

The lines that once seemed so rigid began to blur. The house, with its many rooms and hidden corners, started to feel less like a maze and more like a place where you could both find and create new memories together. Life started to feel hopeful. And even if it was for just that moment, it would be nice while it lasted.

—-------

Matty paced back and forth in his living room, phone clutched tightly in his hand. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the room, but the day had already brought an unsettling sense of dread.

“She’s gone,” Matty said into the phone, his voice trembling with panic.

George’s voice crackled on the other end. “Who’s gone?”

“Matilda.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?”

“She’s left,” Matty said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I got an alert from her school that she didn’t show up today. I looked in her room, her duffle bag was gone and some clothes were off their hangers in her closet. I think she ran away.”

“What? Okay, don’t panic. Are you sure?” George’s tone was urgent but tried to stay calm.

“Yes!” Matty’s voice rose, frustration and fear mingling. “I don’t know where she could’ve gone!”

“Okay- it’s okay. Calm down. We’ll find her.” His voice was firm, trying to ground Matty’s spiraling thoughts.

Your father heard Adam’s voice from the back. “How are we supposed to know what we’re looking for? We’ve never met the kid.”

“It’s my face, with my hair but longer, on the face of a pre-teen girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he tried to scramble to find his keys. Just then, his phone rang. “I’m getting another call, hold on.”

He hung up George’s line and answered, hopeful it was an answer to getting you back on the other end.

“Hi, I’m calling from the London Police Department. I’m calling for a Matthew Healy?” a calm voice said.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hello, sir. We’ve got a report for a runaway juvenile by the name of Matilda Moss-Healy,” the officer said, his tone professional and steady.

Matty’s stomach dropped, a cold fear gripping him. “Yes, that’s my daughter. Is she okay?”

The officer’s voice remained calm. “She’s safe. A concerned citizen noticed her alone. She’s here at the station.”

Relief flooded through Matty, making his knees weak. He let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, thank you so much. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up, immediately calling George back. “She’s at the police station. She’s safe.”

“Thank God,” George muttered. Not that Matty could see it but his face showing visible relief.

“Let’s go get her,” Ross said, already heading for the door, determination in his stride.

Adam leaned into the phone for Matty to hear him. “We’re with you, mate. We’ll come pick you up and then we can head there.”

—-------

There was a group of officers in uniform huddled near the front desk. Matty ran straight for them, his friends not far behind. His heart pounded in his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. “Hi, I'm looking for my daughter, Matilda. I got a call saying she was here,” he said, the urgency in his tone barely masking the anxiety coursing through him.

One of the sergeants, a tall man with a stern but kind face, nodded and spoke. “Right this way.” His voice was steady, a professional calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Matty.

As they walked, the sergeant began to explain. “A biker a few miles away noticed a young girl using an ATM and riding the metro alone. Thought it was suspicious for a 12-year-old.” The sergeant's words were clear, but they blurred together in Matty’s mind, his focus elsewhere. He kept nodding, mumbling a simple ‘mhm’ at intervals. His mind raced with thoughts of you—how you must be feeling, what you must be thinking. All he could do was silently hope you were okay. However, he wouldn’t hesitate to punish anyone who would even try to lay a finger on you.

He unconsciously quickened his pace, causing the officer to lengthen his strides to keep up. The hallway seemed endless, the sterile scent of the station mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. Finally, the sergeant’s voice broke through his thoughts. “She’s right in there. Take all the time you need, or no time at all.”

Matty nodded, his throat tight, and the sergeant walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. Ross, Adam, and George appeared from behind, having finally caught up with their friend. They all stood before a large glass screen, its dark tint revealing it to be a one-way mirror. You couldn’t see them, but they could see you.

“That’s your face alright,” Adam said softly, causing Matty’s lips to twitch into a short, bittersweet smile. His eyes never left the glass, never left you.

He turned around to face his friends, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “Just give us a minute, yeah?” The three nodded in understanding, sharing a look of solidarity and concern, and walked back to the front reception desk.

Matty took a deep breath, steeling himself before he entered the room. His heart ached with a mixture of hope and fear. He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes landing on you immediately. You sat there, looking small and lost in the large, sterile room, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

You didn’t notice the metal door creak open. Too lost in your own anxious state of mind. “Matilda,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. As your eyes met his, he felt a wave of emotion crash over him, almost overwhelming in its intensity.

You bolted toward him, your shaky legs propelling you forward as fast as they could. The moment you collided with him, it rocked him back on impact. You clung to him, your small frame trembling as you buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your dirt-streaked hair.

He took in your state, his heart breaking at the sight. Your hair was matted slightly with grime, and you smelled of cigarettes and the harsh streets of London. But despite your disheveled appearance, you were safe. Not a scratch or mark on you. Relief washed over him, mingling with the overwhelming urge to protect you from ever feeling this kind of fear again.

“Tilly-” he began, his voice choking with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice muffled against his chest.

“It’s okay-” he started to say, but you cut him off again.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Your sobs intensified, your words tumbling out in a desperate rush.

“Tilly, it’s okay, just calm down-” His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“I was just so scared.” Your voice was small, filled with a vulnerability that shattered his heart.

“It’s okay, baby. Breathe,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in a comforting rhythm.

“I won’t do it again! I swear! I just—”

“Matilda. Look at me.” His voice was firm yet gentle, his hands cupping your face as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded, tears still streaming down your face but your breathing began to steady under his calming influence.

“Let’s go home, yeah? We’ll talk about it later, just let me take you home.” His voice was soft, filled with a promise of safety and comfort.

You nodded again, a small, broken “okay” escaping your lips. He hugged you tightly once more, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He guided you to the front where the boys were waiting anxiously. Your head remained bowed, avoiding their concerned gazes. He gently sat you on the opposite end of the row of chairs, his touch soft and reassuring. “I’m gonna talk to my friends real quick, alright? They came with me, they wanted to help find you.” Your gaze drifted to the three men on the other side of the room. More specifically, to George, remembering the things Matty had told you about him and your mom and remembering his photo. “I also need to thank the policeman before we leave. I need you to stay here for a minute, can you do that for me?” You nodded silently. He gave you a short smile, and kissed your cheek before standing to find his friends.

As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, he turned to his friends. You were well prepared to space out again, but not before your eyes drifted to George one more time. His eyes met yours and gave them a smile. You smiled back.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” Matty said, his voice low but filled with gratitude. “I’ll get us home, we can catch the tube or grab an Uber or something.”

Ross, ever the practical one, nodded. “No problem, mate. We’re here for you. Just glad she’s okay.”

Adam’s eyes were filled with empathy as he glanced at you, then back to Matty. “Yeah, anything you need. Don’t hesitate to call.”

George, however, wasn’t ready to leave so easily. “Matty, let us at least make sure you guys get home safe. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”

Matty shook his head, though he appreciated the sentiment. “I know, George, but It’s fine. I swear.”

George sighed, his concern evident. “Alright, but if you need anything, call us. Anytime.”

Matty nodded. “I will.”

With that, the three men exchanged solemn glances, their concern for Matty and you clear in their eyes. They began to walk out of the police station, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space.

As they left, Matty turned back to you, his heart aching at the sight of your small frame hunched over, your head still hung low, anxious of what was to happen next. He walked over and sat down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

[riderofblackdragons]

Promises (Still Mean Something To Me)

Day 29: Fatigue | labyrinth | burnout | "who said you could rest?"

Alright, so I have decided that since I'm still pretty far behind, I'm just going to post these when I write them, lol. I mean, not day 31 yet, because it's not the 31st, but every other day I haven't gotten to yet? Fair game imo!

This is star wars, it's also an alternate universe where the Jedi won, but uhhhh... I did not go much further into that. Just know that that's why they're partying lol. It was originally going to be a Crosshair fic but Fox calls to my inner insecurities and angst so much more!

My mutual made a post that mentioned how second POV is the most initmate, and it inspired me to write one. Hence, we get this! I love writing second POV, I should do it move often tbh.

I did reach pretty far into my own insecurities and shit for this, so it's never getting reread by me ever again bc holy hells i feel exhausted after writing it.

Still, hope you enjoy!

You don't know why you're here. All these loud noises, echoing around the room - you can't remember how you got here, either. You're not bothered, and it feels wrong, but you don't know why. Something bright enters your vision and you flinch back - oh. It wasn't even that close.

There are others here, all sharing the same face. Your face. You don't know if you can claim it anymore, not with everything that's happened to it. You barely recognise yourself, these days. You think they called to you, to join them, but you can't hear anything through the faint ringing in your ears. There is noise, but it won't register, and all you want to do now is run.

But you promised you'd stay. At least for an hour. Who did you promise it to? Thoughts of white and red and gold enter your mind, but they won't focus enough to tell you. Your mind won't complete a thought, but you don't worry about it.

Someone pushes past you from behind. You stagger forward, just a little, barely noticing the momentum. They move further through the crowd, but you stay where you are, pinning your gaze onto their back. You watch the crowd swallow them up, but don't bother to try too hard to follow them.

Your prescence wouldn't be welcome anyways, you know. You've known this for so long. No one really wants to be around you, not anymore. Maybe it was different, once, but it had been so long since then. The memories had faded, and been replaced in your mind by the grimaces and scowls and yells and insults that are all you know now.

You miss the happier times, but you do not remember them. The others around you tell stories, and you listen, but you do not remember them in the way they do. It is only through their stories that you know of them at all, and you feature so infrequently in the stories that it is possible they never happened for you.

There are so few people that will talk to you, now.

On your wrist, you have a chrono. You check the time, and see that barely a quarter hour has passed. If not for your word, the only scraps of honour you have left, and the promise you made (to who did you make it to?), you would have left already.

(Does a promise truly bind, if you cannot remember to whom you gave it? You cannot recall when you made it, perhaps the other is dead now. Will it still count then? Does your word still bind you, if you are the only one left?

There is no red here, other than on you. Are you the only one left, of you and yours?)

You have never really liked parties. You stay anyways.

Tag List: @captain-effy @what-the-fuckis-happening @robininthelabyrinth

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #27

27. FRANCE Slimane - "Mon amour" 4th place

Decade ranking: 103/153 [Above The Black Mamba, below Marco Mengoni]

Slimane has a very powerrful voice. 🙂

THE RANKING

Okay, FINE. I suppose I can't leave it like that. 🙄 Although I'd much rather would.

So *SLIME*-MANE. There's a lot to unpack and a lot I know most people will disagree with my takes, but oh well. I've ranked Joost low, and Mustii low, so it's only fair the Slimane fans get some scalding hot truth tea splashed in the face from this deluded overthinker. Disliking men is a much more productive way to run away from my problems than simpling them is.

So remember how I spoke about songs designed to Make People Cry? You know I hold emotional extortion in contempt. "Pity" is just a slightly more charitable way of looking down at others, and shouldn't be strived for. These anthems are inherently designed to manipulate the undiscerning into uglycrying while offering very little sustainance. Yep, we're here yet again. Another song that doesn't pass even a tiny bit of scrutiny, except in a language most viewers do not speak.

In fact, I'm pretty sure that "Mon Amour"'s francophoneness is what made many people sleep on the fact that it's not exactly narratively sound. Most people that I've spoken about ESC to that understand French haven't responded well to "Mon Amour" (lol one of my French friends bursting into chat all "SLIMANE REPS US? EW. HIS MUSIC IS SO BORING AND CORNY 😣" hours after Mon Amour's release passed without comment from any of us ♥).

The indifference makes sense when you read the lyrics. It's filled with cliche's that scream "I YEM ZE FR0NCH~", a little bit too much on the nose. If I thought "Évidemment" was bad, this is worse. Lines such as "reviens à Paris" and ''Es-ce-que tu-m'aimes où pas?" are such clichés they feel thoughtless and expected, like someone writing out the monologue on autopilot.

But what sets me off is the overal narrative. Slimane and France have attempted to retcon "Mon amour" as "the story of an artist reaching out to his fans, seeking validation" but that is not what the lyrics read out. Instead, speak of the aftermath of a broken romance, where SHE has had her heart shattered to a degree that she LEFT THE PROTAGONIST'S HOMETOWN FOR AN UNKNOWN DESTINATION AND BROKE OFF ALL CONTACT. Instead of giving her, you know, personal space or time to reflect, or even lick his wounds, he keeps desperately asking her whether she still loves him or not. Dude, I don't know her, and I know the answer is "no". Give it a rest, and move on. Sadly, Slimane didn't move on and spends a full three minutes wailing on about it. "I want her, I need her only her, why doesn't she love me". We know where this ends - with a restraining order and either her or him dead and dismembered inside a dumpster six months later. (Australia's jury of snarky yet emotionally intelligent gays picking up on this and ranking him dead last ♥ bless them ♥)

As you can perhaps tell, the above realizations completely KILL the romantic aspect of the song for me. I cannot, and WILL NOT get into its grief and sadness. All the parties involved should be GLAD it's over.

Instrumentally, the song's just... generic piano ballad, nothing new or innovative here. Dime a dozen, we've heard it before, bla bla bla. "Mon amour" is a nothingburger, an empty vessel for Slimane's vocal chops.

Which brings me to another problem I have with it - I personally don't really care much about technical skill? Eurovision is an audio-visual SONG contest, not a SINGING contest. It is cool that you can nail those masturbatory vocal projections. You're a singer who can sing. "Loud" however is a pitch, not an emotion. It would have been more impressive if you've also discovered the cure of cancer alongside it. (Curing tumors with vocal vibrations. Medical students reading this, get on it so I can be impressed by Slimane.)

Focusing exclusively on that though, is annoying to me. Good Eurovision entrants start with a SONG. "Mon amour" barely classifies as one. End off.

That isn't to say I cannot respect Slimane's vocal for what it was. I mean THIS:

is a feat only a few vocalists can successfully pull off. It is MORE impressive the first time you witness it before the laws of Diminishing Returns kicks in. But it was immensely clever to trial it at Dora and then include it into the song itself - it gives the performance stakes and gravitas, so why not?

However that brought the song's weakness even more to the forefront to me. My logic is the following: if you can pull off such a stunt, then why aren't you the immediate fave to win? Eurovision 2024 was the most open year perhaps of all times, and I'm supposed to believe a voice THIS strong cannot win it by itself? There are enough examples of strong vocals POWERING through merely decent songs (Céline and Corinne Hermès for instance) into a first place. If you can pull that off and still lose doesn't that prove your song is fucking shite?

Going into the contest I was HOPING to get something out of the live besides Big Vocals and also that France wouldn't morph into a direct contender to win (You would HOPE that 2024's varied and exciting line-up was competitive enough as to not crown a vocal projection exercise as its winner), and ultimately, I got both of my wishes because Eurovision 2024 was BORISVISION. I was the meta this year, bitches, and I think fourth place is a perfectly reasonable result for a vocal that strong on a song that nonexistent.

But more importantly, Slimane managed to inject his performance with EMOTIONS and good god I really needed that.

It took a LOT of effort from Slimane for me to recognize that yes, this man is cooking with gas, and his expertise elevates the whole package. "Seductive" is the incorrect emotion for the subject matter but whatever. Ignoring the subject matter is the only way you can enjoy the song, so if that's what one must to do end the night on a high note, so be it. I let it pass, with few regrets.

Like Nutsa, he served enough for me to respect him ~as a performer~ who deserved the result he got. Like "Firefighter", I still have some contempt for the song itself, and there's a strict limit for how Im i'm willing to place it.

Turns out that boundary lies at Marco Mengoni. "Mon amour" always felt like a lazy, soulless answer to "Due vite" for me, and I'm not willing put it ahead, nor to re-examine my stance on DV so quickly after my 2023 ranking. "Due vite" was a song that ultimately wasn't my cup of tea, but it was the superior composition, and deserves a higher mark.

So ultimately, I end with Slimane a bittersweet note. A man with the capability to win the Eurovision Song Contest, yes and who manifested his impending loss with below average penmanship. If the French are looking for someone to blame for not winning once since 1977, they can start with their failure to recognize their 2024 song needed a revamp.

THE RANKING (again)

[ladadee195]

Ladadee meets Legends of Avantris at Too Many Games 2024 (LONG POST read at your discretion)

I'm not one to write up a trip report cause I'm firmly in the "no one gives a shit." camp but for this I feel like people will get a kick out of my anxious distress over the past two days and I know those that couldn't make it would also appreciate it.

I knew a few months ago that when LOA said they were gonna be at TMG that I could go, its only an hour away from me. I'd gone to TMG back in 2019 to meet Brandon Rogers of Youtube and Helluva Boss fame and even then I didn't get HALF as nervous as I did the past two days. I was a shaking hyperventilating mess. Embarrassing, truly.

Friday was worse then Saturday.

First off, we'd barely parked in the parking lot when we see Andy casually strolling across the parking lot and get into his very nice red mustang, nice to see where the car vlogs happen!

By the time we got to the booth I could barely breath but I wanted to grab my free pin and say hi first. I want to disclaimer this by stating that I realize LOA tries really hard to make it perfectly clear that the Party and fam are regular people that work hard to produce their content and be successful at what they do without being celebrities or influencers. Logically, I know this and I respect the hell out of it. However my hyperfixated brain and general anxiety made it incredibly hard for me to remain CALM. Its really hard to remain calm when you've been watching them by yourself alone in your room hours upon hours and then suddenly there they are in real life before you, talking to YOU! How am I meant to be remain calm?

Anyway, I met Andy and Nikkie. Talked briefly with Andy and just generally embarrassed myself but he's so cool ya know and is probably used to it all things considered. I asked them both to sign my Cake Chad shirt, both we're happy to do so and I got a great hug from Nikkie. After that I cut my losses and decided to move on. Their meet and greet wasn't for a few hours and we were hungry. When the meet and greet came, I jumped in line to get a picture. It went really quick and I got no chance to really talk to them but they were super awesome and I love the picture! I knew they were TALL but god I felt like a hobbit.

The live show wasn't until 7:30 so we left the con to check into our hotel and relax for a few hours. It was a nice break and I finally got to breath. We returned to the con and got seats for the live show.

if you haven't already seen other's overviews or the whole video I wont spoil anything but it was SO good. I was so curious about what they could possibly do for a one shot but holy shit was that amazing. Its always interesting and fun to attend live shows with cheering and laughter and suggestive whistles. Gives one a sense of community you only ever get a taste of on here or discord.

Afterwards we went back to our hotel and rewatched the whole show on the live stream LOL

Saturday I was much calmer because I had a goal. Get the whole parties signatures and not be embarrassing.

We did a lot of waiting cause the con opened at 11 and again their meet and greet was at 3 but we managed to pass the time well enough and then we got back in line. An readers when I tell you how amazing it went!?? I was very proud of myself even though I was still nervous and shaky I did much better.

They all were super cool and signed my Hootise shirt. I still geek out thinking about it! But the best thing happened. Richie saw my Gideon/Kremy candy bead bracelet I'd made myself and legit forgot I'd worn for this exact reason. This is how that went. Richie: is that a Kremy and Gideon candy bracelet?

Me: YES!I forgot I had that on!

Richie: thats the best I gotta get a picture and show Mace.

I was DYING omfg. The two behind the ship SAW my ship bracelet??? still freaking out. I decided that I should have made ones for them. I convinced myself they wouldn't like them, I know better now for next time.

After they'd all signed my shirt I gave them my thanks and MAYBE acted a little embarrassing when I told them name and that I was already in the discord but as I said earlier they're so cool and awesome I doubt they noticed me being like that.

i felt like even though it was short I had a really good moment with them which is all I really wanted.

I regret a lot of things. Like the fact that I had plans on making them gifts but ran out of time due to me being sick like right up until Friday and being so nervous and scared and I acted only a little crazy. I know next time (PAXUnpluged in Dec?) I'll be much better prepared.

I hope those that cared to read this very long post enjoyed my little overview. Just remember even though you may be scared and nervous to do something, you still should cause you never know how great it might be at the end.

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Tagged by the wonderful @anewkindofme and @laneybishop89! 💛

I started writing a sickfic of Little!Nick with CGs Monroe and Rosalee back in August, but just haven't gotten the chance to finish it yet, so here's a snippet of that in hopes this'll get me to finish it soon lol:

Monroe quietly pushed open the door to his and Rosalee's bedroom, peeking his head inside and looking over at their bed, where their currently regressed Grimm was curled up asleep in the middle of the bed with his faithful fox plushy tucked under his chin.

Nick had woken during the middle of the night with a fever over 100 degrees and a very upset stomach. The poor pup had come into the married couple's room in tears just a bit past midnight, pajamas stained with sweat, urine, and vomit. Monroe ended up sitting in a cool bath with Nick, who in his feverish and small state of mind had refused to let go of him, while Rosalee took care of Nick's bedding and fixed him a sippy cup of Pedialyte along with a shot of Pepto and a fever reducer. Just from his scent alone, Monroe and Rosalee could tell that whatever their boy had wasn't a flu bug, but more than likely a bad case of food poisoning.

Even once Nick was clean and settled as comfortably as possible in their bed, it still took a good three hours for him to fall back to sleep. Fortunately, though, Nick had been able to stay asleep through the rest of the night and morning. It was nearing three in the afternoon, however, and as much as Monroe and Rosalee wanted to let him sleep, they needed to get more Pedialyte into him and try to get him to eat something so he could take another fever reducer.

With the reassurance that Nick was still safe and breathing, Monroe backed out and closed the door. He made his way back downstairs into the kitchen, where Rosalee was at the stove cooking a small batch of white rice. She looked up when he walked in, shooting him a tired smile before returning her gaze to the pot she was stirring.

"How is he?"

"Still sleeping like Varme Tyv in a hibernaculum," Monroe replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned up against the sink counter. "I knew there was something off about that new pizza place. Every time I passed by that place, I swear it reeked of unwashed hands and ingredients. Ugh, I should have tried harder to convince him not to go and take a homemade lunch instead." He exhaled a deep, heavy sigh of regret, uncrossing his arms and running his hands through his frayed brown locks.

Rosalee turned the burner off and moved the pot off the stovetop to cool. She walked up to him and slipped her hands into his, giving them a squeeze as she gazed up into his tired, warm eyes with a firm but kind look in her own.

"You can't blame yourself for this, Monroe. It's not anybody's fault but the people at that restaurant for not being more diligent with their work. And besides that, Nick is still an adult most of the time. We can advise him and make suggestions, but at the end of the day, we can't make decisions for him when he isn't regressed."

"I know, I know," Monroe groaned. "I just hate seeing him so miserable. And I hate how we can't do anything to make it better."

"We may not be able to make it better in an instant, but just by taking care of him and being there when he needs us like any sick kid does, we are doing something to help him feel better. He's gonna be okay. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing."

As Rosalee spoke, the tension and guilt in Monroe's face and shoulders slowly began to seep out of him. He sighed again, but didn't sound as burdened as he did before.

"You're right. You're right. I just wish I could do something to take away all of his pain now."

"I know, honey. I do, too."

Rosalee leaned up and pressed a kiss to Monroe's lips, giving his hands one more squeeze before letting go.

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @nottapossum, @autisticalastor, @tomwise, @adhd-mess and anyone else who wants to join!

[kanmom51]

JK's live 4 March 2023 1:47 am KST

Part 1

Cr./ to all the creators of the media used in this post.

This is a hard one for me.

It' took me time to sit myself down and watch the actual whole live, and I preferred to wait for the Weverse full translation before coming here to write my post.

I assume most of you read my post about JK's previous live, but to those of you who haven't:

JK coming back live more or less 24 hours after I posted that, still while discussing my thoughts I put down to paper in that post, that hit hard for me.

I know, as usual there were those wearing rose tinted glasses unwilling to see JK, not for real. Not in the last live and not now either.

I am glad many are taking to heart his honest words about being harassed by so called fans (he was so respectful even though these people deserve no respect what so ever, but that's JK for you in a nutshell), asking, pleading to be able to have the privacy he deserves.

And I saw many enjoyed the live, his singing, his dancing, Tae popping in, and it's alright. It's also alright if you can't see that not all is well. Even though it's screaming in our faces. Because even if you don't see it, just being there, showering him with positive love like many of you do is good enough. It's kind of the most that us fans can do in any case.

That and reporting, blocking accounts and people that are out to harass and hurt him and JM. Not share their disgusting crap. It's not about likes for our accounts, it's about trying to protect those two, make their lives a little easier, a little safer, allowing them a sense of security.

While writing these lines I came by the new postings from that deranged, supposedly not sasaeng that uploaded the clip of JK from the gym. Please do not follow this person. And if you come by her postings, please report them. Send to BH. I, for obvious reasons, will not share her vile posts, but she has to be gone, like yesterday.

Moving on.  I guess I'm here to talk about this over 2 hours and 20 minutes live right?

I’m not going to get into every single little thing that happened but I do want to touch on a few things.

First of all, the playlist. JK was singing his heart out during this live.  Like the first hour or so is mainly JK singing and dancing and going to get himself some water, and then some beer, and dancing some more and singing some more.

JK on a beer run.

He does some of that in the second half of the live too, but in that second half is where the interesting talk happens.  His plea for privacy, Tae showing up and JK talking to him, at him, not sure which.  Did I mention he inserted Tae's name into song lyrics too? Lol. 

The way he loves Army, I just cannot describe it.  We know he does, cause, and I’ve mentioned this before, he says it, writes it in letters to Army, writes songs for Army, cries for and with Army, and he does things for Army, to make them happy.

So, he sang Naatu Naatu and Indian Army were overjoyed.  He just wants to please us.  Make us happy.

I kind of think we should be doing the same.  As Army.  Sending him our love.  Showing him just how much we respect him.  See him for the person he is, the human being he is, and love him for it.  I know there is no IG now, but there is Weverse. And even for the smallest possibility that JK might see our messages, we need to keep sending them to him. You know #to_Jungkook.

Oh, and call out those that don’t respect him too. 

Sidetracked. 

That’s kind of my second name now days…

Anyways, here’s a link to the playlist from his live:

Ooh, and we got 10,000 hours again. You know, right?

That man is the cutest thing ever (well it’s a super close competition with his bf, but at the moment JK’s in the lead).  Oh, we also had JK farting, bless his heart (I feel like a mama with that joyous feeling after your baby burps and passed gas, lmao).  The way he waves his hand to get rid of the smell though.  And him excusing it with: a. he’s human (yes, he told us we fart too in Busan, we remember that); and b. it’s not his fault, it’s the gassy drink. 

Did I mention he was cute?  I mentioned he was cute, right? Lol

He kept doing these close ups to the camera, used the light from the live screen to check out where to put the batteries for his mic, lol.  Showing us his beer, showing us the candle, showing us himself.

We got JK and his ASMR candle (on and off during the live).

JK listened to Hobi’s song for the first time during this live.  Twice.  Going back to see the lyrics too.

Have we noticed by now that JK’s coat, JK’s stuff, seem to be laying on the sofa.  Like he just came in or is just going out or just doesn’t seem to give the ora of permanency?

This is a man that we know to be tidy.  I mean:

We know which suitcase was JK’s.  He literally showed us.

And he does have empty, lonely clothes rack just there, you know, waiting for his homey stuff to be hung up… unless, wait, this isn’t much of a home of his…

JK was talking with Army, checking comments, replying to them.  But he wasn’t playing the game, so to speak.  You know, the one where he seems to be available for them.  Do you know what I mean?

The three second or minute “we’re dating game”, he wasn’t up to it.

Someone asking to eat his cheeks (ewww, cringe), he wasn’t having it.

As I mentioned, and you all know by now, cause you know, no way the cult wouldn’t shut up about it, Tae commented during JK’s live.

JK’s reaction to Tae joining was nice.  Not overjoyed.  Not over interactive with him.  I mean, he did answer his questions, but was also that’s that.  He continued looking for songs to sing, then inserted Tae in the song he sang, went to see if Tae was still there, and he wasn’t, so his reaction was kind of “oh ok, he’s gone”, and moving on.

The comments above aren’t exactly in the order they were on the live…

Then he vocalizes - sings:  How fun, Tae Tae’s here…

JK’s asked to sing Lemon, and he’s going through the process of looking for the song, and just before the song starts this happens...

Tae comments about the beer drinking and gaining weight.  Yeah sure Tae, just the thing to say to the same person that was too skinny just a couple of weeks back and that his bf was overjoyed he was eating. 

But you see, JK doesn’t seem bothered by Tae’s comments, lol.

His answer is to the likes of “well, I have to finish off the beer in the house, don’t I?” – iron logic indeed, lol.

So he stops it a second to answer.

And once again he’s about to start when:

So, Tae goes on with “let’s have 50 bottles”.  This wasn’t him suggesting that JK drink 50 bottles.  Him saying there being 50 bottles (as in JK has to drink 50 bottles to get through them), to which JK answers that there aren’t even 10 can’s left.

I wonder if the cult paid attention to that chit chat.  Wouldn’t the bf they claim is living with him in that apartment kind of know how many beers are left in the fridge?  Ok then, not exact number, but seriously, there is a huge difference between 10 and 50, even for means of exaggeration.  Or if they are bottled or canned?  That is a bit of a difference in the fridge, which he supposedly shares, no?

Just one more of those little tiny winey things that disprove their shit.  Which they are full of.

And then JK proceeds to sing the song.

In which, at some point he inserts Taehyungie into his lyrics while looking at the monitor, checking the comments and says:

And continues to sing.

Anyways, once again one of those mate interactions they are so good at.  That’s them.  Good mates.  They are.  They spend time together, talk to each other, play games together, we’ve said it all before. 

But one thing they definitely are not, and that’s a loving romantic couple. 

Period.

To be continued in part 2, which I am going to post immediately after part 1 (Tumblr has become nasty again with the 30 image limit of theirs).

[gaymer-hag-stan]

A Tekken 8 Review That Nobody Asked for From a Longtime Fan Who Has Been Playing for Ages But Is Not a Pro - That Title Is Too Long

Having spent a little over 24 hours playing the game on my PS5, I feel like it's an appropriate amount of time to share my first thoughts on it. I will try to keep spoilers to a minimum so just skip the "Story" section and you should be fine.

General Thoughts

A pretty healthy roster, overall happy with who we got. I do wish Anna and Christie were here, and I also miss Lucky Chloe. With Eddy already announced and Azucena taking over the "cooky dance-y character" I unfortunately don't see Christie or Chloe returning, but Anna better fucking do!

They all look great, even the ugly ones, they look satisfyingly ugly, if that makes any sense. The girls still suffer from the Madame Tussaud's wax figure syndrome that plagued the entirety of Tekken 7's roster, but, maybe I'm gaslighting myself, I do feel like they look a bit less plasticky than some of the initial teasers? Most of the redesigns are great, the hair (Lili's hair has never looked better), water and dirt physics all finally WORK and I love how all the clothing animates with the wind effect, the Fallen Destiny stage is a great one to illustrate all of the above. We can see Yoshimitsu's fingers after three decades! I'd love to know the thought process behind this redesign lmao

I love that they finally, after so many years of other fighting games having it but being inexplicably absent from Tekken, they finally added Player vs CPU matches! FINALLY! Finally I can pick my character and my opponent of choice, pick their costumes and set a stage for them to battle. I'm so happy for this even though it might not make any sense to anyone.

Combo Challenges! We finally have combo challenge in Tekken! Another common fighting game feature inexplicably missing up until now.

Gameplay feels a lot of fun. I wasn't sure about the heat mechanic but it's actually a lot more fun than I initially thought! I tried out all of the cast and am slowly completing both their story episodes and an Arcade run for good measure. I am obviously still maining Nina. They have decided to simplify a lot of her combo throws and I am having fun terrorizing people online with them by breaking their bones! I'm also using Arcade Quest to learn how to play as Lili and Azucena, some basic moves and combos and whatnot. I wanna also do Zafina, Jun, Jin, Hwoarang and Xiaoyu as well eventually. I think these eight will be my main squad for the time being. As a side note, King and Steve feel extremely fun to play, I haven't picked either in ages, but with King I was really close!

The netcode is, surprisingly functional??? We did recently switch to an optic fiber connection type, but I'm still on WiFi and I am having zero problems!

Jukebox is thankfully back again! I literally spent an hour or more before playing the game at all to decide which song goes where lol

Something that scares me regarding upcoming DLC, is that I do not see a season pass being sold anywhere except the Deluxe Edition bundle that costs 40€... I'm sorry but I don't give a fuck about owning 32 identical gold costumes or Tetsujin or whoever the fuck as my Arcade Quest avatar... I only want Eddy and the other three (one of them better be Anna!) thank you very much!

Story

"The Dark Awakens"

Believe it or not I haven't even finished the main story yet as I'm trying to pace myself through all the modes and enjoy them, savouring every moment. At the moment of typing this I am almost halfway through and I must say, even though I am still firmly in the "Drop the cinematic NRS style story modes" camp, and I would much rather have had either arcade mode with proper, canon endings back, or a revival and repurposing of the Tekken Force mode, in an SF6 World Tour mode type of way, out of all of Bandai Namco's attempts at a cinematic story mode, from SCV to Tekken 8, this has been the most satisfying attempt so far. I love that they are fully embracing the overdramatic nature of Tekken along with its campy side and it's present from the very beginning, with Jin throwing his bike at Kazuya's helicopter! "A Fate Decided by Fists" were we actually get to choose which fighters advance through the first round was the biggest highlight so far! I did not expect to fight Azazel again in 2024! I miss his Tekken 6 design though, he no longer glows according to his remaining health or has his limbs crumble away into scarabs according to which parts of him you're hitting. Also, I do understand why they felt the need to overemphasize how "Jin was a good guy all along and he's not like Kazuya" to redeem him and attempt to portray him as a more traditional hero, but I think they went way too far. Literally every single cast member, characters who've never met him before especially, makes a point of how good a person Jin is. Also, I do understand that there were a lot of people complaining that most of the cast were ignored in Tekken 7's story mode and I appreciate that they tried to include more of them this time, but it's so half assed and superficial. Like, Lili, Asuka, Hwoarang, Leo (who finds their missing father, a forgotten plot point from Tekken 6 of screen without a single explanation) Xiaoyu, PANDA offer absolutely nothing to the story so far other than to just be there and tell Jin what a good guy he is. And I say all that as someone who is firmly on Jin's side and despises Kazuya.

Character Episodes

Thank god they have more than one single fight this time! I would have liked it if they found a way to make each of them be canon. Like, I think every single one of the Arcade mode endings of SF6 is canon, if I'm not mistaken, and most of them seem to take place before the events of the main story, as a way to give us a clearer understanding of why each fighter fights. I think Guilty Gear does exactly that too. Nevertheless, I do appreciate that each fighter has fights specifically tailored to them, with specific opponents. It's not clear to me yet if they're completely non-canon or not, as in Nina's she seems to have been hired by Lee to sabotage G Corporation and Kazuya, I pray to God this is true and she's not actually, willingly working for that asshole, like, I'm still in complete denial that they threw her entire character development from Tekken 4 to Tekken 7 to the trash can just to go "NInA WiLl WoRK FoR WhOmEvEr"... She's also suspiciously missing from the actual story like, she simply just appeared in ONE scene so far and then left without doing literally anything. She also seems to only have special interactions with Steve and Lee so far when others get a lot more. Her handling story wise in this installment is insulting, considering she's the most popular female fighter in the series and one of the most popular in the genre...

Offline Modes

Arcade Quest

It's cute... It's certainly a cool way to mask your tutorial and the avatars are kinda cool, but they're nowhere near as good as what Capcom did with SF6 and World Tour. I must say I prefer Tag 2's Tekken Lab over this.

Super Ghost Battle

Ghost battle, after five attempts is finally fun! Tekken 7's was by far the worst attempt as the game would automatically pick opponents for you, matching you with much harder ones if you were winning too much and much lower ones if you were losing too much so that you wouldn't climb the ranks as fast and it would artificially increase playtime. Now that Tekken has actual single player modes other that the story there's no need for that, and they made it work. You simply choose from a list, and the ones that contain unlockable (useless) customisation options for specific characters are actually marked so that you can attempt to get the item you want.

Arcade Battle

I love that they still included a traditional eight battle long Arcade mode, even though they could have just had the character episodes and call it a day. My slight nitpick, again, is that they're still doing this thing that they've been doing since Tekken 5 or 6 where the first few battles are characters in their default costumes and then a horde of Namco's customized monstrosities attack your eyes... This is a huge pet peeve of mine, I understand it in the context of Ghost Battle, and Arcade Quest, but I do not want to see goofy customs in other, "serious" modes. On top of that, the ghosts you get seem to be from the Super Ghost Battle's catalogue of freaks, and are therefore higher difficulty than most, which in turn makes them actively harder than the mode's final boss which I think is kinda hilarious!

Tekken Ball

I will admit, I only played a single match and never touched it again. It is actually challenging, I'll give it that, but I don't see the appeal. I'd much rather have Tekken Bowl again back instead tbh. Also I wish that stage was playable in normal modes too.

Customization

Avatar customization is kinda whatever, but it works well enough for Arcade Quest and I don't really visit the Tekken Fight Lounge.

Character Customization however is where I have an issue. While I've seen lots of cool customs of various characters from other games and IPs, including Shimbori himself dressing up Super Battle ghosts as DOA characters!, I don't really care for the customization options? My only real use for Character Customization in Tekken so far was to recreate past / alternate outfits. Like, in Tekken 6 I would buy the schoolgirl outfit parts for all the teen girlies, in Tekken 7 I recreated Nina's 2P outfit from Tekken 4 using her Blood Vengeance catsuit as a base, stuff like that. In Tekken 8 all I'm getting is a huge catalogue of Zara's apparel... And all the unlockable outfits are either their default look with less clothes on, or weird cosplays of other characters. Why? Tekken Character Customization peaked in Tekken 6, where every single one of the 40 (41 if you count Panda, who I think had some different options from Kuma) characters had his own personal selection of outfits and items, matching their personality and look. I don't want to play as Nina dressed up as Ada Wong or in a business casual for a 9-5 desk job. They made everything way too generic and bland and, on top of that, we don't even have trademark pieces like Nina's purple catsuit, her ponytail, Hwoarang's taekwondo garb, Xiaoyu's Tekken 6 battle costume. The Tekken 5 veterans should have had their Tekken 5/6/TTT2 costumes and hairstyles on top of their Tekken 7 ones.

Overall, I am very very happy with this game! It seemingly does almost everything right and I am glad to see it improving on, literally, every single thing over Tekken 7.

Score: 9 / 10

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

My writing brain is on a roll with the Meddling Mar au, so that's what y'all are getting once again lol (Faulty Info has been Fighting Me, but I'm finally in the home stretch for chapter 10)

Part One, Parts Two and Three, Part Four, Part Five

The second day was the hardest. 

It was the first time Jak remembered waking up, not that he was awake for all that long.

There was an itch in the crook of his right arm, but he couldn’t even muster the strength to lift a finger, let alone scratch at the offending sensation. He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t move his limbs.

The smell of antiseptic permeated everything.

If he'd had anything in his stomach, he would have vomited.

Seconds, minutes, hours- Jak had no way of knowing how much time was passing. Or if it was even passing at all. One moment he would hear voices near him, the next there would be nothing but the whirring of fans and an ever-present, infuriating beeping. 

He hated the beeping.

As if it somehow knew that, the sound would get faster the angrier he got. But being angry was as exhausting as everything else, and soon enough the beeps would slow down as everything spun into nothingness again.

Jak dreamed -- though what he'd dreamed, he couldn't have said afterwards. There were only impressions of colors and voices and an endless sea. 

Sometimes he woke to something blessedly cool resting against his head. Mostly he wasn't awake long enough to pin down any specific sensations at all.

He woke periodically through the night, each time expecting Daxter to be there.

He never was. There were only solemn, painted faces looming over him and chanting prayers. 

Jak decided he was still dreaming.

The longest he was awake was the moment they took out the IV. Until then, he hadn't even known there had been a needle. Jak remembered screaming, yanking his arm away from the old woman. It was more movement than he'd been ready for, and he'd collapsed against the pillow, out of breath. 

The woman didn't scold him for making her job more difficult. Instead she had cooed and apologized -- apologized!! -- to him for hurting him. Hurting him!

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry, dear," she'd clucked, wrapping a bandage tightly around his elbow. "I know that stung. I'm sorry. That was the last one, promise."

That was how Jak found out he'd been hooked to electrolyte solutions for two days after collapsing in the desert. He'd panicked again, looking around frantically for his companions. 

He was alone.

The old woman squeezed his hand and propped a pillow up behind his back. The gentleness of it all very nearly brought him to tears. 

She wouldn't if she knew I was an eco freak.

She wouldn't be so kind if she knew I was just the Precursors' spare key.

"Mm-" Jak's voice was rusty with disuse, cracked and no louder than a whisper. "Mm-y b- bro-ther-?"

A calm smile split the woman's leathery pink face, and she patted his hand comfortingly.

"We released him to the convalescing ward just last night, love. You know, you probably saved his life, wrapping him up like that."

She nodded with approval.

"That was a very brave thing you did."

Jak wet his lips and tried to ask about Daxter. Fear held his lungs in icy claws, threatening that he didn't want to know the answer.

He slept again. 

The next time he remembered being awake, it was night, and a man with glasses was writing something on a datapad at his bedside. He stared at the man and gripped the thin sheet that had been draped over him.

The man looked up and blinked in surprise.

"Oh! Bless me, you're awake! Hello there, young warrior. You've certainly had a close call, haven't you?"

 "Where am I?" Jak tried to ask, but all that came out was, "Where-?"

"Emergency clinic," the man answered. "My name is Petros, I'm a pediatrician."

A what now? Jak had never heard that word before. His confusion must have been somewhat obvious, because the thin man clarified, "a doctor who treats kids under eighteen."

Under eighteen? 

Well. Jak had always known he didn't actually have an autumn birthday like Daxter, but he would've thought he'd be at least eighteen by now. The doctor was probably assuming he was younger because he was short. Those dark eco experiments had really messed with his growth.

Deciding to humor the man -- because he couldn't think of anything else to do -- Jak slowly accepted a tin cup from him. The water had a slightly metallic taste, but it was far cleaner than anything he'd had in Haven. It felt like heaven, cooling his dry throat and clearing his head. Was it because it was clean? Jak examined the bottom of the cup warily.

"Just a bit of green eco mixed in," Petros said, a little too cheerfully for Jak's taste, "We already reversed the organ damage with the high-grade stuff. This is just to soothe your throat a bit."

"Or- organ damage?!" Jak's fingers tightened on the cup. 

"Now," the doctor said briskly, ignoring him, "You've still got a long recovery ahead of you. Judging by the bone scans we did, you've been through quite a lot, and your body is still playing catch-up."

He stood up, groaning as his knees crackled and popped, and slid his notes into his pocket. 

"I'm going to bring you some more water, and a little broth -- slow sips, mind you. Let's not have you making yourself ill -- and when you've finished, you're going to take a cool bath."

Jak shifted uncomfortably in the cot. "What's the cost?" he demanded, "Nobody does this for free."

Petros leaned back as if startled. His eyebrows climbed so high they almost vanished into his receding hairline. For a few seconds he said nothing. Then, he sagged, looking as if he'd aged a few more years with the space of a breath.

"Ah," he said, almost sadly, "I see. Been that sort of life for you, has it? Well I don't charge minors, so you don't need to worry about that. If you and the little one end up being assigned a temporary guardian to help you transition into city life, they'll deal with the cost."

Then, seeing that Jak wasn't convinced, he pasted on a small smile and shrugged. 

"But, when you've been deemed to be sufficiently recovered, you can always bring me some medicinal herbs from the clifftop farms, like the other children usually do."

"I'm not a child," Jak muttered with a scowl.

Petros took this in stride. "Adolescent, then. Still got a couple years before you'll be allowed to pitch in with any of the heavier work around here, at any rate. But you can discuss that with Damas once the monks let you out of convalescence."

"What," Jak said slowly, "does that even mean?"

The doctor smiled blandly and began to walk away. "Later. Right now, we get food in you. Then you wash off the paint and get some rest. Before dawn tomorrow, you'll be moved to the convalescing ward with your brother."

Paint? What paint?

Jak frowned and, for the first time, realized that his cheeks felt a little stiff even after the water. Cautiously, he reached up and touched two fingers to the skin. A flake of white came back on his fingertips, and his eyes widened.

He held the tin cup close to his face and stared at the reflection.

A broad, red stripe had been painted in an arc over the bridge of his nose and down to his jaw, ending in an old pictograph for "peace" on his throat. The rest of his face had been painted bone-white.

They had shaved him to make the paint lay even on his chin. 

He looked like a little kid like this!

"Oh what the-?!"

Petros paused and looked back. He grimaced.

"Ah. It's...well son, I don't want to scare you, but we almost lost you the night you came in. The monks started giving you last rites before the eco kicked in and your body really started fighting."

"Last rites?!" 

Jak's breathing quickened, and his chest felt constricted.

They'd touched him while he slept. Took a blade to his face. What else had they done? How much had they seen?

He resisted a sudden, overwhelming urge to check the pocket Tess had sewn into the lining of his pants, just to make sure his and Mar's seal was still there. 

"Wh- where's my brother? Where's Daxter?"

We need to leave.

Petros tilted his head. "Daxter? That's your brother's name?"

The misunderstanding was just weird enough to let Jak get a full breath before the panic settled into something more manageable. 

"What? No? He's-"

"He's Mar" almost slipped out of Jak's mouth, but he stopped himself just in time.

He didn't know where they were, or how far from Haven they'd gotten. He wasn't going to risk word getting back to the Council.

"He's the orange guy," he amended quickly. "Where is he?"

The understanding on the doctor's face was a welcome relief. He knew what Jak was talking about. That had to mean Daxter was okay, right?

"Oh yes!" Petros nodded. "Last I heard, that little fella has been standing guard over your little brother. He's bitten at least one monk so far."

Jak fell back against the pillow, feeling as though he'd just run a marathon. 

"He's okay," he gasped. "They're okay."

"Thanks to you, yes. They're okay."

Petros assured him. Then he was all business again.

"Now: no more stalling! Soup, and then bath. And don't even think about trying to sneak out of that bed! I've been doing this for twenty-five years, and I've got a sixth sense for teenagers sabotaging their own recovery!"

He shuffled off, leaving Jak worn out and thoroughly bewildered.

Who are these people?!

________________________________,_________

Mar was bored. 

Incredibly, infuriatingly, bored.

He wasn't hooked up to the beeping box anymore -- the one the doctor lady said measured his heartbeat -- but that didn’t mean he was free to run around. For the first day after the needle came out, he'd been too tired to move at all. Now he still got tired easily, but he didn't want to sleep! He wanted to find Jak!

But every time he got out of bed, one of the people with the colorful face paint would find him and take him back!

Once, a man with spikes in his head had found Mar, halfway up a staircase where he'd run out of breath. He had given him a very strange look, and then the next thing Mar knew he was being carried back to bed.

At this point, he was pretty sure the horned man was the painted people's guard, to make sure he didn't escape. Because now every time he made it to the door, the horned man was somewhere nearby. All he had to do was give Mar a Look, and it was enough to send him scurrying back to bed.

At least Daxter was here. Mar didn't think he could've endured it if neither of his big brothers was present.

"Do you think Jak’s okay?"

Mar pulled his knees up to his chest and frowned at the curtains around his bed. He'd seen grown-ups in the other beds when he'd tried to sneak out before, usually with casts on limbs or sleeping. They weren't mean or scary, but they usually ignored him.

Generic adult behavior. 

If Jak had been in one of the other twelve beds, he would have come to check on Mar by now.

Daxter stretched to peer through a gap in the curtains. Then he sighed and returned to carding through Mar's coily hair with a comb that had been left unattended.

"I...I dunno, kiddo. The last time I saw him he-"

Daxter swallowed and forced the words out.

"He wasn't lookin' so good."

Mar's stomach clenched with worry. He gnawed a thumbnail for a few seconds, then asked in subdued signs, "What do we do if he- if something happened to Jak?"

The ottsel let go of the comb -- leaving it vertical in the boy's hair -- and scrambled around to take Mar's face in his hands.

"I'm gonna stick by you, that's what. It's you, me, and Jak, to the end of the line." He squeezed Mar's cheeks to punctuate his words. "I p- I promise, kiddo. One of us is always gonna be here to look out for you."

With a sniffle, the little boy suddenly reached out and dragged Daxter into his arms. He clung to him like a lifeline -- like Jak used to when they were very little. And just like with Jak, Daxter didn't need to see Mar's hands to know what he was saying.

I'm scared, Daxter.

Daxter wrapped his arms around the kid's neck and sighed. "Me too, kid. Me too."

You'd better be okay, Jak.

[feuqueerfire]

Wandee Goodday Ep 6 Live Blogging

After failing terribly to keep up with 23.5 weekly, I'm happy that I'm catching the first episode that I'm watching as it airs on the day that it airs rather than 4 weeks down the line. I had to wait for 4 days since I finished ep 5 and it wasn't too bad of a wait but I'm also not disengaged. I think it helps that Oh No! Here Comes Trouble, the show I'm binging right now, is good but I can put it down for long enough to catch an episode of a different show without just wishing to watch Trouble instead.

Ep 6 (June 8)

6-1

domestic morning, as it tends to be with them

Yak sharing a past weakness with Dee. Also comes back to the fact that Yak hates to lose since he said he remembered his first boxing match loss for a long time

A bet? Among a pair who likes to win (Dee) vs hates to lose (Yak)? My bet would be that Dee will miss him more but since he's aware that he maybe likes Yak, he'll hold off on showing it whereas Yak will end up breaking first because he may not even realize just how much he's emotionally involved

So how are they supposed to figure out who misses the other more since they're calling and talking all the time

aw, Dee is alone at home and missing Yak and reminiscing about some conversations and wants to talk to Yak more

boxing elephant pants plug

toothpaste on mirror thing, pls you haven't seen Yak in like 3 days, you'll be fine!!

oh 3 days fr

at least Yak is also semi-aware that he kinda likes both Dee and Taem and even discusses it a bit with Yei

when Yak looked up from his phone and stared into the distance, I got afraid that Dee was gonna randomly open the doors lol

girl?! lmfao he showed up fr

I did think Dee was gonna lose his mind missing Yak but I wasn't actually expecting him to go meet him or to show it.

6-2

Dee drove 2 hours and is planning on driving back 2 hours because he has an early morning tomorrow? my guy

Great/Yak really just looks so Nong in this outfit and this night with both Yei and Dee, cutee

a chin kiss is so funny sorry

Ter constantly speaking over Dee again, aghhhhhh >:(

How often do we get to cheer for 2 beds rather than 1?

pushed the flights back by two days?! bro, Ter's audacity knows no bounds

let's kill this guy

6-3

non-binary genders mentioned

the kiss attack when Yak drags Dee out to the staircase is so cute

Kao don't tell Dee to get back to Ter!

all this discussion at the hospital, I'm always worried that Ter or one of the gossipy nurses are gonna overhear

spoke to soon. Ter watching Dee watch Yak

Taem being in the hospital makes everything chaotic because YakDee are supposed to pretend they're boyfriends while they're here but Taem should think Yak's still single and likes her. hard to juggle such contradictions

Cher's naughty hand hehe

is Cher insinuating they had (video) call sex? how fun

I wish they wouldn't do the 2 pairs' makeout scenes spliced together like this lol feels awkward

6-4

Yakdee on a double date with YeiCher ahh just confess guys

Second time Yak's helping Dee cross the road, I wonder when they'll get into his trauma with the road crossing and his parents' deaths

ah, debt collectors

Dee being part of the family being brought up twice in like 2 minutes

YeiCher are literally sooooo cute, I'm afraid of the debt collectors and how that'll affect their relationship

had to pause at the "If you hadn't passed by when I was assaulted" because what?!

Though I guess the follow up makes sense that Cher then wants to learn how to defend himself and so became a customer

You like him, Dee!

Very short episode, less than 45 minutes long including credits and the preview. Also feels like not much actually happened and there wasn't much progress emotionally or plot-wise beyond Ter making a move again, Dee kind of seriously considering how he feels about Yak, and we the audience see the debt collectors but Cher doesn't.

I knew Ter was gonna pull some shit but I was still so mad seeing him speak over Dee again! and then delaying their flights without discussion with Dee? let's just kill him wtf

I'm keen to see YakDee kiss or realize feelings or confess or anything and for Cher to discover all the debt Yei's in and have a discussion or falling out or whatever's coming. I want some progress on at least one of these fronts next episode.

[dealbrekker]

10, 20, 26

Hii!!!

10. Something you've created in the last year you're most proud of.

This May was actually the 1 year mark exactly since I finished my nephew's baby blanket! (I cannot believe he's 1 year old now). It's definitely the most complicated thing I've ever knitted, and I actually haven't knitted anything but a couple wash cloths since. (I need to pick it back up, but after the blood sweat and tears that was the border of the blanket, I felt like I needed a long break lol!)

This blanket is especially meaningful because my aunt, who passed this past February unexpectedly, helped me finish the border. We truly put some 8 hour shifts into it, so my pride in this piece is very bittersweet.

20. A skill you've picked up in the last few years.

I wish I could say the process of making that border but I know that was a one time deal 🤣🤣. Instead I suppose the skills I've picked up at my job! I moved into the office of my company from a lower position a few years ago and it's constantly a learning experience. Anything from booking freight, working with Quick Books, mulit tasking to the Nth degree.

26. A movie you've recently watched that you could watch over and over

Hehehe. Easy. The Mummy 1999. I went and saw it in the theaters last month for its 25th anniversary. I've loved that movie since like 2006 ish when I was in high school. My friends and I would get together to reenact it we loved it so much. Still my absolute favorite.

PS I was Jonathan 😆😆

Thank you for sending me the asks!

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

📓

ok, so I know you're not in this fandom, so I apologize in advance, but this au has taken over my brain and I haven't written a single word yet so-

Hopper-Byers Firestarter au. Hear me out.

Joyce and Hopper are a couple teens strapped for cash and are offered a chance to participate in an experiment for 200 bucks. They figure what's the harm, they've got a 50/50 shot of just getting an injection of distilled water, and if they do get the drug they'll probably be tripping balls for a few hours before they go about their merry lives. Right? Wrong! lol

There's something wrong. They're both given the drugs, but Joyce swears she saw one of the test subjects claw at his eyes, smearing his blood soaked hand on the chart above him. She swears she has a whole conversation with Jim, sharing everything and nothing all inside their heads.

They've both been given powers, and a few years later, they'll have been the only ones not dead or driven insane. He has minor telekinesis, and she's able to push people into doing or agreeing to what she wants.

Time passes and the two grow closer and a few years later there's a ring around their fingers and Joyce is pregnant with her first. The problem? They're being watched. They don't always know how or even particularly who, but the why is clear- the scientists want their lab rats back. So they plan in secret. Gather resources, vet doctors as safe, research locations, and slowly start selling furniture over the course of months. One day, they gather all their belongings in Jim's truck and set off. They spend months on the road, crashing everywhere they can and taking the long route while crossing at least 10 state lines to shake the government tail they've acquired. They're terrified they'll never shake them and Joyce will have to give birth on the road, but finally they arrive at their intended destination with no one following them- a tiny town in bumfuck Indiana where no one would think to find them.

They're still looking over their shoulder and checking for anyone else following them, or bugs planted in the house, but for the first time in years, they feel safe enough.

Years continue to pass and the two realize something about young Jonathan- he seems or have inherited some form of telepathy from them, meaning whatever fucked up drugs are in them that changed who they are can be passed down. They talk with him, making him feel safe and loved, while also warning him of what could happen if he wasn't careful.

Fast forward a bit and Jonathan's three now and Joyce is pregnant again, this time with twins. Hopper and Joyce are both overjoyed and terrified. Anything could happen and moving around is so much harder with three kids, two of them being newborns. They ramp up their paranoia and frequency of checks for government tails.

They think they're in the clear, but when Joyce gives birth in a hospital they checked multiple times, little Will is the only survivor of the two, the other twin tragically dies in childbirth 😔

Don't believe that? Neither do Joyce or Hopper. Publicly, they cry and grieve, but quietly, they dive into research to find out what really happened to their little girl.

Unfortunately, their efforts are put on hold as they realize Will has some kind of electrokinesis. which is a major problem for a baby. every time he was hungry or threw a temper tantrum, sparks would fly and he would short out anything from the lamp to the whole house if he wasn't careful.

years pass, and we pick up when Will is 12 and Jonathan is 15 in 1983. At this point, Hopper is convinced their unnamed girl really is dead, and Joyce's faith is starting to waver as well. They've spent many years following trails, having even taken the boys away one summer to trace a lead that led nowhere. There was one close call a few years ago where a couple suits tried to take Joyce while Hopper was at work, but she defended herself and by the time Hopper came home, he scared the shit out of the suit enough to leave them be and lie about how the mission went. What followed was an intense and heated debate, but they ultimately decided to stay in Hawkins.

What follows at this point is what I'm hoping to make as a combination of s1 of st and the plot of firestarter. They do find out el's alive and theirs which I cannot wait for because hell hath no fury if you've messed with Joyce Byers' kids. I also have this specific idea that Will and El are psychically linked, but I'm still trying to figure out the details of that. I'm still working out how I wanna do a lot of this, and I'm really sorry if the way I phrased some of this may come across as unappealing but this won't stop rotating in my head I'm obsessed and I haven't even finished the book. If you've made it this far and have any questions I'm more than happy to answer them considering I want to be able to expand this.

[dragmedowntobeaconhills]

Prompt #10 || Tony Oller

Pairing: Tony Oller x Fem!Reader

Request: hey I was wondering if you take requests that you would write a tony oller imagine. Anything let your creativity free and write what lever you want thank you bye 👋

Word Count: 477

Prompt is from this list (X)

A/N: Hello, its been a while lol I haven't written fanfiction in a long time, I actually convinced myself I was done with it, but I just came back after a hiatus from this hellsite and was pleasantly surprised to see this request in my asks and couldn't pass it up. I never get asks period, let alone requests, the latter is probably for the best because I'm terrible at filling them 99% of the time. This is actually the first time I've written, finished, and posted a request all in the same day I got it. Ever. But anyways, since its Halloween, that's the theme! Thank you so much, anon, I'm rusty but I hope you like it! Happy Halloween! 👻🧡🎃🖤

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Its the night before Halloween and you and Tony were at a little Halloween event. You were currently in line for a hayride, with you in a very good mood considering this time of year is your favorite everything; holiday, season, and month. Tony stood beside you, a little grumpy and bored as he hadn't wanted to come to this thing but he did because you wanted him to.

"Could you at least pretend like you're enjoying being with me?" You say in amusement when you look up at him and see his expression.

"You dragged me to this fall festival for ‘fun,’ and now we’re here, standing in line for an hour, to pay for a hayride. Explain the fun to me again." He sasses, looking down at you.

You giggle at his attitude. He's so damn cute when he's grumpy. "I shouldn't have to. You're here with me, that should be fun enough." You smile cutely up at him.

He rolls his eyes but can't keep a smile from tugging at his lips. "I'm with you every day, baby."

"Exactly. My mere existence in your life should be all the fun you need." You respond.

He scoffs in amusement, giving into the smile. You bounce on your feet beside him as you grin. "See? Now you're smiling and it didn't take much because, me." You say proudly.

He throws his arm around your neck, pulling you into himself. "Way to stay humble, sweetheart." He teases, pressing a kiss to your head.

You giggle, making yourself comfortable against him, always loving every second you spend in his personal space. "I'll shamelessly say it right now. I'm not humble, I've never claimed to be humble."

Tony laughs and you feel the rumble of his chest through his sweater, a familiar warmth spreading through yours at the sound of his amusement.

"I love you." He states, looking down at you.

You raise your head to look up at him, already smiling. "I love you too." Raising up on your toes, your lips meet his.

That is, until the hayride returns and the occupants exit, the line you're in starting to move as those in front of you get on. You pull back, an excited squeal leaving your lips as you waste no time, grabbing Tony's arm and tugging him with you as you bound ahead.

"I'm still not entirely into this, you know." He says after helping you in before following.

"Its gonna be fun, baby!" You reply excitedly as he sits beside you, his arm returning around you when you lean into him. "Plus, when we get home later, I'll make it up to you."

His gaze moves to you at that, one of his eyebrows raising as he smirks slightly, his reaction making you erupt into giggles as the truck begins pulling forward, the hayride starting.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All rights reserved @dragmedowntobeaconhills2024

Thank you for reading!

Gif credit is linked directly underneath it

Masterlist (X)

Happy Halloween! 👻🧡🎃🖤

[khaosophist]

What's the point of any of this?

It's like I'm queuing up my own thoughts.

I wrote something. It just showed me a lot about how I thought about things.

I gave my wife goosebumps again. So there's that... You'd think I'd ride that high...One moment it's like we're soulmates, and in another, there's barely any words between us. What with work and the kids, it's understandable.

I still have expectations. It pisses me off. These entries are always heartfelt...But the tree isn't always what partakes of its fruit. Maybe we connected for ten minutes as a whole. Boy were those moments amazing. But I don't sustain myself from these moments enough. What's five minutes of love to two hours of reflection? With every letter the sweetness decays, and leaves only emptiness on my tongue, and I persuade myself the air tastes like her, and smells like her, and feels like her.

I am one clingy...ugh...just...it's like the more I let myself out there without expectation, the more vulnerable and pathetic I feel. That a properly adjusted person would be able to let these weights and emotions pass by like a stream. Honestly, I like reading my journal. Sometimes it's shown me what feelings I've surpassed or integrated. Like...I'm happy I'll be walking my oldest from school to our home. Less weight for my Twili Shorty...

I did all the chores I hoped to do.

I have so much going on...

I'm acutely aware how difficult it is to devote a whole day to something everyday. I might not be as passionate about shortstacks as I thought if I'd rather go to the gym, or just sleep.

What does she think about? Every time I write, it's also like I'm writing her a love letter. Because my journal isn't for stories or brilliant Ideas. It's just...a stream...

I still haven't found my pins or my necklace. But a bracelet should come one day. Harder to lose. Lol.

Would she want to have lilac skin? Those long ears...in the end, it doesn't matter as long as she just shares her soul with me. I feel like she doesn't do that. Maybe journaling is its own thing and I just have to find...I've written about this before...Her crochet is so fun...She wanted to crochet a midna for me. She made a cute artic fox. Bag. A mindflayer. A spider. An ice cream narwhal...Always in my face, and I just squander them...sometimes. Every time I look at bag...it makes me think she's my gobberina, deep down...I forget her mischief too easily. It comes so naturally to us. It's scary. A dumb joke here...a silly word there...a luscious jiggle...a feigned retort...then there's that...damn gaze she gives me from time to time. Like she's just a gooey, and warm marshmallow pressing against me. Like she's falling in love all over again.

Once we have a home, what will she dream of? Tying the strands of family into a knot...changed a lot. Like a cycle is over, and understood. That we found something that is enough. Three kids. Three years difference...rule of three...

The baby started laughing recently. Fucking hits harder than drugs. They're also the only child I had nightmares about. They didn't breathe when they were born. I don't always talk about it. What is there to talk about?

I'm always looking for meaningful coincidences, which, of course, is counter intuitive...I know this. When the butterfly rested on my staff. I wasn't looking, but I found it.

I'm still hurt. Why do I care so much of what they think of me? Why can't I just believe, and move on? It's ambition. Greed. I want them to notice me, because I believe other people find them important...that if they recognise me, then it means others will too. I don't believe those who recognise me, and crave that those who don't recognise me...recognise me; vindication, y'know?

Stupid. It's stupid. I need to change my focus. Sure, keep to the dream. A monster is a monster. But being accepted shouldn't be the point. The point should be rest, and relaxation. Devotion, and meditation. Fun, and expression. That's the LARP I want.

Ugh... I don't know any costume designers...mmmh...Okay, right, there's someone else I could try...we will see.

She hasn't answered if she has any fantasies. Nor mentioned it. I've stopped asking her if she read my journal entries. The urge to do it isn't bothering me as much. But, I suspect writing about might change something. Lol.

I have to move on and look for a better job. I've silently promised myself to do this. Either I get tired, or my time is focused on the now. Next Saturday...just one...I can do this. An hour just an hour is enough.

Look at that beautiful skin colour...

SIMP TO THE EXTREEEEME OOOH YEEAAAAH!

[purplesurveys]

1860

What store did you last buy clothes from? Landmark. I had a last-minute need for a dress for a family friend's debut, and with the One Free Time I had so close to the date, that was my best bet to find something, anything haha. I didn't find anything I was envisioning, but I got a pretty enough blue-green day dress.

Which parent are you more similar to? I am so much like both of them in many ways. I have my mom's explosive temper, uptight-yness, facial and verbal expressions; but I also got my dad's patience, liberal way of thinking, love of animals, and awareness of pop culture lol.

What are some of your favorite qualities for another person to have? I find it very cool if they have a hobby they have no shame in being a geek about. Most people (at least here) still think it's a loser thing to have encyclopedic knowledge about a niche interest – because being mainstream is the correct way to do things! /s – which is SO annoying to me.

What smell reminds you of your childhood? Brewed coffee and warm pandesal. This was my grandparents' default breakfast, and it stung to miss out on this smell when we moved + even more so when my grandpa passed.

Are you happy with who you are? I am increasingly learning to be.

Do you ever sleep with your bedroom windows open? I did that until college – pre-job, essentially, when I wasn't yet able to contribute to the family monies. Now that I'm able to help out, I have the AC on hours a day and haven't had the windows open in years lol.

Have you ever had a job where you didn’t fit in with your coworkers? Nope.

What was the last word document you typed? It was a transcription of an interview.

Have you ever gotten sick from someone else’s cooking? Yeah, I got food poisoning from a stick of barbecue at my uncle's place one time. To this day I still haven't eaten anything inihaw if it's there.

Do you crave approval and attention from others? Approval, yes, as a perfectionist; attention and affection not nearly as much.

What was the last kind of cheese you ate? Manchego.

Do you have any crazy neighbors? No but there is a toddler who wail-cries everyday which drives *me* crazy.

Have you ever abused any substance? No.

How young is too young to be sexually active? I don't think there is an age for something like this. If you are, you are.

Would you ever dye your hair silver? Probably not.

What was the last fun thing you did? Welp I hung out with Angela and Hans the other night and all we talked about were plans for their wedding lol.

Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? Nope.

Is there any drama currently going on with your family? Kind of but it's mostly blown over now. When it does get mentioned it's mostly in passing or just general updates of what's been going on since.

What’s your favorite kind of soup? Miso.

When was the last time you were on a university campus? I was in UP around two months ago to have late lunch and watch a softball and football game with Andi.

Do you know anyone who practices Hinduism? No.

Where’s your favorite place you’ve ever lived? This current house.

When was the last time you spoke to the first person you ever kissed? Three and a half years ago.

How many texts have you sent today? Just a couple.

What’s a political issue you have a strong opinion on? The blatant Chinese bullying of the Philippines.

What snacks do you like to get at the movie theater? Potato Corner is a Must for me, and I feel like malls understand that now because in nearly every cinema you go to you are guaranteed a Potato Corner five steps away.

Have you ever stayed in a hotel in the center of a big city? Apart from my own country where most hotels are in the center of big cities, I have done this in Shanghai, yes. It was nice, because knowing that China blacks out the internet there happened to be wi-fi in the hotel I was staying at.

Are your fingernails painted? Nope.

What was the last fruit or vegetable you chopped/sliced up? I don't think I've ever chopped a fruit or veggie before.

When you take a nap, do you nap in bed or on the couch? Either, really. I feel like I've done a share for both equally.

Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Eh, just work.