#i’d put myself through hell for queue

[playboths]

@heygutlcss liked for a starter!

“Some people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes.” He’s proof of that. He won’t ever admit it, but he is. He thinks Grazi might be, too. Both of them falling for the same wrong person. They might be able to laugh about it years later, but he doubts it.

[playboths]

She’s right. He hates it, but she’s right. It’s his fault that things are the way they are. His and Patrick’s. Art won’t take all of the blame. If Patrick hadn’t dated Tashi, this whole thing could have been avoided. He picks at the skin of his palm and looks at her. “What do you want me to do?” He doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do, but he’ll try.

❝    i'm an ᴀꜱᴛᴏɴ ᴍᴀʀᴛɪɴ that you steered straight into the 𝒟ⁱᵗᶜʰ.    ❞

ttpd  lyric  starter  for @playboths

[fuck-customers]

hey gang! me again (from /post/741038774641983488, bitching about the two coworkers and the filthy deli slicer), and i guess we couldn’t go three days/two shifts without more bullshit from J1! as i write this it’s currently the morning after the shift described below. thankfully, i have the day off today, due to a prior appointment, so i might be able to wind down again before going in again tomorrow afternoon.

so before Chef C left on the hell shift prior, he asked me to be there at noon, when the first folks are showing up for their prep. good thing, too, because shortly after i arrive, before i even clock in, the head line cook (M) that showed up the same time i did informs me that he’s just gotten a text from C saying that both the sous chef S and the pantry cook J1 have called out for the day, leaving me as (currently) the only person available with any experience on pantry.

before i switched mostly to dish, this was fine, because i could rest assured that the old pantry lead (name irrelevant; no longer works there) would have as much as possible done and prepped for the next shift, even with the one day off we had between. the only time she wouldn’t is if the store was going to be closed for 3-4+ days straight and we needed to be concerned about spoilage. thus i would be left with minimal prep actually needed to be done and could just focus on the essentials.

considering this prior prep cook is the one who trained me and J1, it’d be safe to assume that she’d follow the same practices, right? well, clearly, that’s giving her too much credit, because again, i never got trained to any degree on how to make the vast majority of what gets “cooked” for pantry, and apparently she’s incapable of planning ahead even if for no other reason than to simply make her own job easier.

to make matters worse, we had just gotten a shipment, so the walk-in was packed full without any room to get around; i’d have put it away myself, but i don’t know where the vast majority of the shit goes, and i don’t want to fuck up the already tenuous inventory log situation that C constantly grouses about. i’m resultantly unable to get counts for anything we already have, so for the time being i focus on what i am able to easily access to get done, which is mostly plating desserts.

after a couple hours, a temp (E) comes in to help. there is a language barrier and she has never worked pantry before, only line, so i have to train her (through translation apps and my own rudimentary kitchen spanish) while also trying to figure out what the hell i’m doing myself. chef doesn’t get around to teaching me how to make two of the items we need until about half an hour before service starts, meaning i once again did not get a break and had to rush through making them myself, while i also try to get E set up with making sure everything she could put together was ready for service.

as you can probably imagine, this doesn’t go particularly well! E does great with the actual prep stuff, with dressing the cold cured meat dish and this that and the other, but as soon as we get to service it becomes an absolute shitshow. apparently nobody taught E on line that you need to send dishes out in the order the tickets come in, so we’re 15 tickets deep with more printing, and she’s ignoring things i specifically showed her how to make while we were slow to, instead, pull from the end of the queue to make salads that i keep having to drop what i’m doing to coach her on how to make correctly when they have a special request applied.

ultimately this results in me getting scolded by the GM/service lead to send tickets out in order, to which i just respond that “i’m trying,” and M comes to my defense when i can’t hear it to point out that i really wasn’t set up for success today, and folks kind of back off. thankfully we only end up with one extra dish (to my knowledge? something was said about extra carrot cakes but they were never brought back) and it’s just like. a half salad that E didn’t prep right so we couldn’t send it out.

insult to injury is that there were actually others present who had worked pantry before. one of the expo cooks (D) actually comes back to help J1 all the time, but because of S being absent he had to focus on expo—and he ended up leaving before dinner service without raising a finger or even pausing to ask to make sure i was going to be okay with just me and the temp. D’s got a problem habit of leaving without doing everything that needs done, anyway, which ended up resulting in J2 getting forced into overtime to pick up his and J1’s slack on that front, which is why he wasn’t there for this shift. probably ultimately for the better but i really would have appreciated the extra pair of hands.

due to the string of buffoonery that resulted in us missing no less than 3 kitchen staff and damn near everyone who knew how to do anything of substance on pantry, i wasn’t really given an opportunity to call for help. thankfully M had my back and nobody seems to have any hard feelings now that it was made clear to them that i wasn’t given room to do anything but struggle, and the GM and service staff took it pretty well when i apologized for how much of a shitshow pantry became, but i really should not have been left drowning like that in the first place.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[iminnlovewiththc]

she won't go away

summary: camilla is a senior with a developed eating disorder she can't push off her. her best friend and crush, Ellie, knows nothing about it. until they skip school and Ellie becomes suspicious.

trigger warning: ED.

word count: 2.3k

I fully expected the clothes on my body to fit like a glove before my first day of senior year. But as I stand in front of the mirror, tugging at the material that won’t pull, I want to scream loud enough to break every glass reflection in the world so I never have to see myself again. This may be extreme, but one would understand if they knew the extremes I went to to lose weight. 

I figured that if I didn’t eat as much as I had and picked up on a running habit, I’d lose the nasty weight I put on junior year. 

“What the hell? That’s impossible,” I groan as I pick at the clothes and pinch my belly. 

“Impossible how good you look?” my mom asks, flooding into the bathroom. 

I immediately rub my hands down my clothes and look at her reflection in the mirror. I try to focus on her as best as I can. “No,” I say. “I don’t. This shirt and these jeans are tight.” 

“Then change out of them,” mom says. 

I like that she can be optimistic, but at the same time it angers me. She’s never been a bigger woman–always skinny and petite with hair that never fails her. I, on the other hand, depend on the way my hair falls on my face or how my clothes sit on my shoulders or stomach or how they hug my waist. She can put on a potato sack and still look flawless. And for that, I don’t always stand by her affirmative words. They may be kind, but they’re tainted. I am her daughter, and for that reason she sees me through a different lens. 

“Mom,” I murmur. 

“What?” 

Can’t you see? I want to ask her. But instead, I say, “They were supposed to fit me.” 

Her eyebrows raise up, silently asking, ‘What do you mean?’ 

“Nevermind,” I say, opting out of the conversation. Maybe if I don’t think about it, I won’t feel the pressure. 

I walk out of the bathroom and into my room. I throw off the top and grab a black shirt from my dresser. Mom follows me in but doesn’t fully enter, she just stands at the door. 

“You shouldn’t feel so insecure, Camila.” 

I hold back my scoff. It’s stupid, though, because I spurt out a smart remark. “Yeah, well I do.” 

“You did lose weight,” she says, “if that’s what you want to hear.” 

I pick a jean skirt and shimmy into it. It slightly sags and I smile at my mom. “Thank you.” 

She continues talking about my health and such but I tune her out. I pull on a thin cardigan, my dirty white sneakers, and my black backpack overly decorated by pins. By the time I’m done, my mom is whistling from the kitchen. I know this because I can hear her scuffling and the whirring of the microwave. 

“Yes!” I shout. 

“Eleanor is here!” 

I roll my eyes at the nickname and peek out the window. She sure is, in her black Jeep. I run down the hall and stop by the kitchen bar. My mom has left me yogurt and fruit. I look up at her and smile. She’s done this every day since I was in first grade. Then, there was more on the plate, but the main dish was the yogurt and fat slices of fruit (besides grapes). 

I pick it up and start for the door, but the soft voice of my mom cuts between my path. 

“You hang out with her a lot, huh?” 

I look at her and laugh. “Yeah, we’re friends,” I say. 

She pulls her lips in and her eyes turn to crescents. The look on her face is one I know all too well–she’s trying to look into me. I may not be lying–well, not really–but my face still warms up and I switch from my right foot to my left. 

I swallow harshly and say, “We’re just friends.” 

She shrugs and picks up her mug of black coffee. She stares over the ceramic, sending a questioning set of eyes my way.

 I take this as a queue to leave. 

I rush to Ellie’s car and hop in, my backpack falling between my legs. It thumps against the floor and a ‘damn’ rushes past her lips. 

“What?” I say. 

“I mean,” she says, rubbing her neck, “it’s barely the first day and your bag is already heavy.” 

“So?” 

“You don’t have to be so prepared.” 

“But I want to be,” I tell her as I pick up an ugly piece of watermelon. 

She lets me enjoy my heavy bag and drives us to school. She picks at my fruit and I let her eat my yogurt with my spoon. We don’t really care about that kind of thing, we’ve been friends since freshman year and she’s never minded. She doesn’t swallow the spoon, either, she just paws at the edge of the spoon. 

By the time we get to the parking lot, it’s ten minutes to the bell. We sit with the engine off for a minute or two and just watch everyone rush in. I don’t really remember much of anything before this summer. If even that. The slight eating disorder has stolen a bit of my memory. 

As if she can read my mind, Ellie asks, “Do you remember freshman year?” 

I shake my head. “No, not besides us meeting. And you know,” I say, looking at her, “the occasional first hang-outs and birthday parties and stuff.” 

She grabs my hand and lifts it to her lips. It shouldn’t catch me by surprise–she does this a lot, the kissing hand stuff–but my heart stutters and I struggle taking a breath.

“Ah, how I miss that.” 

“I know,” I whisper. 

“It was love at first sight,” she says in the same tone. 

What does that mean? I feel the need to ask. She’s staring deep into my eyes and I so desperately want her to be telling the truth but she may well not be. She may be saying this platonically. 

I nod. 

She reaches over the console and kisses my cheek. She lets go of my hand and steps out of the car. I do so as well, dragging my heavy backpack over my shoulders. 

I don’t ask about the comment or the kiss on the cheek. I don’t think it matters why. We’ll be going to college before we know it and most people want to be single then to explore and kiss and fuck who they want. I’m certain she’s all I’ll think about, but I’m not sure I’ll be the one on her mind. 

After fourth period, Ellie rushes up to me before the cafeteria doors and pushes me against a patch of lockers. “Let’s skip,” she says. 

“What?” I ask with a contorted face. “It’s the first day!” 

“So?” 

I look like a puppy the way I frown and shy away from her. “I want–need to show up.” 

Her hands run down my arms and one hooks into my right hand. “Fine,” she whispers, a whine in her tone. “Only for lunch.” 

“Won’t we get in trouble?” 

She sputters like an engine. “No. They don’t care.” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

“C’mon, Mila.” 

I look around and then down at our conjoined hands. “Where?” 

A big smile spreads across her face and she pulls me down the hall. “Somewhere you’ll remember.” 

“Where?” I ask again. 

She turns her head and purses her lips. “Shush and c’mon.” 

“I’m hungry,” I whine. 

“I’ll feed you, don’t worry.” 

She does. On the way to wherever we go, she pulls into a McDonalds and buys a twenty piece and two medium fries. I remember saying I was hungry, but as the food sits in my lap and the greasy smell pours into my nose, I feel ill. I hide it well enough for Ellie to tell, though. She doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way. 

On our way to the location, Ellie jokes about my self control. How I’ve yet to steal fries or begin eating. I laugh but the darkness behind the joke spills out and tries to suffocate me. So I peek my head out the window and let the warm air enter my lungs. 

When we get there, I do remember: a patch of dust and dead grass beside train tracks. It’s after a bunch of business buildings and venues. We found this place when Ellie got her license the summer before junior year. Joel, her adoptive dad, didn’t care where she went, nor how old she was. All he cared about was if she had her license. 

We would come here and eat burgers and fries and milkshakes. That was the year Ellie began smoking weed, and this was the perfect spot to do so. I never smoked, but I’d watch her. 

“I miss when we would sit here and just not say a word,” she says with a joint already in her hand. I want to tell her no, that we have class, but she puts up a good sober act. 

I nod and sit down on the log still lying on the ground from a year ago. I put the food between us and take out my fries. I nibble on one fry while she downs half of them in one go. 

I don’t speak, I let her do all the talking. I’m trying to add up all the calories I’m consuming. I’ve never been the best at math but when it comes to this I’m a fucking expert. 

I think I eat about five fries before Ellie notices. She turns to me while she stubs out her joint and almost hisses. I think about chunking them all in my mouth, but she’s caught me now. 

“You haven’t even had a chicken nugget,” she tells me. She opens the box and pushes it towards me. “I already ate my half.” 

“Oh,” I murmur and nod. “Sorry.” 

She doesn’t acknowledge my apology, but she does acknowledge the biggest elephant in the room. “You’ve lost a lot of weight since summer started,” she says. “Are you okay?” 

I hum. “Of course I am.” 

She sighs and reaches over, grabbing my fries. She places them inside the chicken nugget box and slides them over to her left. She scoots in and grabs my hand, tucking all of my fingers into a fist and caressing my knuckles. 

“You don’t look it,” she murmurs. 

I don’t know if I should take this as a snide or concerned statement. I opt for just shutting up. I know remaining silent doesn’t help my case, but it doesn’t plummet either. I just sit with her thumbs kissing my skin and look at the dirt. 

“I don’t mean this as a rude thing,” she continues. “You just look underfed, not well taken care of. You look whiter than normal and it’s been hot out.” 

I tsk. “Okay,” I moan. “Ellie, I'm more than okay. I just sat inside all summer. You wouldn’t know because you were gone for half the summer.” 

“–And  here for the other half, so I know something’s been up.” 

I don’t like that she’s trying to crack me open. If I wanted her to know about the eating issue, I would have brought it up. But it’s none of her concern, because it’s not even her body. 

“I am fine,” I say sternly. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

She shoots up and looks over me, trying to intimidate me. She never has but now, I feel like a rock has slid into my throat and won’t go away. “Why aren’t you eating?” 

“I am!” I say, now almost shouting. 

“No,” she says, violently shaking her head. “You aren’t, and I care about you, Mila. So please” –she kneels on the ground in front of me– “tell me what’s going on.” 

I stare at her, my eyes drilling into her own. Gloss covers the surface and I realize my safety might concern her more than I thought. I shift in my seat and I take her hands. “I haven’t been eating, you’re right. I wanted to lose weight and all the working out and cutting out bad stuff wasn’t working. So I just stopped.” 

She leans forward and kisses me. It’s a small peck, but it feels like a bigger gesture than it is. Her face pulls away from mine but I follow her. I kiss her gently, my nose softly rubbing against hers and our breaths panning against one another’s faces. It’s the only breeze that alerts us that we’re here, and this isn’t some dream. 

I speak first. “I’m sorry,” I say. 

She pulls away and kisses both my palms. “No. Don’t apologize for not telling me. I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me this. I want to help you any way I can. I know it’s not something easy to fix, but I’m willing to sit down and help you.” 

I kiss her cheek. I mumble a thank you in her ear and rest my forehead on her shoulder. 

“So,” she chuckles two seconds later, “what are we going to do about this kiss.” 

I shrug and scoot back. “What do you want to do about this kiss?” 

She chuckles and stands up, pulling me with her. She grabs the leftovers and we race to her Jeep. I slide right in and immediately, we make out. It’s heated, and I don’t know if we should keep on doing it. 

I actually think we should wait. I kindly and slowly pull away, a trail of saliva that once linked us falling onto the fat of our lips. 

Ellie takes this as a sign to get going. She turns on her car and drives back to school, where no one but our teachers care for us.

[waywardxrhea]

Chapter 7 - Walls

What happens when you lie to the Devil? How long can one woman keep a lifetime of secrets from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? The answer may surprise you...

installment list

pairing: Matt Murdock x enhanced!fem!OC

series content: coffee shop AU, fluff, humor, friends to lovers, pining, language, canon typical violence, angst, drinking, implied smut, medical emergencies, mental health disorders (PTSD, panic disorder), implied smut.

"i'm gonna break down these walls i built around myself. i wanna fall so in love with you and no one else could ever mean half as much to me as you do now. together we'll move on, just don't turn around. let the walls break down." - walls, all time low

word count: 4.7k

Some walls between Crystal and Matt come crashing down.

The next night couldn’t have been more different from karaoke at Stardust. That’s because that evening, Crystal found herself with Daredevil crouched in what remained of the same tunnel system that collapsed weeks before. “So you think that he’s actually here? The man in charge?” she whispered as Daredevil listened into what was happening up above them in the building that seemed to be where all of the tunnels originated from. 

“Yes, I know it,” he told her. “I’ve heard three men address him by name. So unless my intel is wrong about who he is, then I’m sure.”

“So then what’s the plan? Surely they’re armed to the teeth in there, you can’t just go in and get their boss without taking some fire, and no offense, but that shirt isn’t exactly bulletproof…” Crystal told him.

Daredevil scoffed humorously before saying, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were concerned about me.”

“And if I am?” she asked. “I will admit that I’ve…enjoyed these last few weeks working together.” 

“Surprisingly I have too,” he admitted. His tone turned serious again as he said, “The plan is to have you put up stone walls between Ranklin and his men. Then you’ll open up a spot where I can get in to take him out. From there we’ll use the tunnels to get him out of here and to the precinct. Detective Mahoney knows the plan and will be waiting for me.”

“He knows-?” Crystal started to ask, her heart rate and fear spiking at the words. 

“Not about you, about me bringing him in,” Daredevil clarified quickly. 

His ear turned upward toward the building and he whispered, “It’s time. He’s in the hall directly above us.” He listened for a few more seconds before telling her, “He’s got men on either side of him. Put up a wall here and…here, that should separate them.”

“Got it,” she told him, creating steps on the stone so she could reach her arms to either place at the same time. 

“Now!” 

On queue, Crystal slammed her fists up into the stone causing walls to build up into the hallway above and chaos to ensue as the man in charge was boxed in. Working quickly, she also created a hole in the space that Daredevil pulled Ranklin down through before dealing a blow to his temple. The man crumbled to the ground and Crystal resealed the hole above them. 

“I’m impressed,” she told him with a brief slow clap at how efficiently he got the job done. “You should get moving though before his men figure out what’s going on. I’ll meet you after you take him in.”

“You sure you still don’t want to be involved in this? It may be better to get ahead of the press before they run a story you don’t want them telling,” Daredevil told her as he hiked the man onto his shoulders. 

“I’m sure,” she told him before creating an opening for him down the way and going in the opposite direction to throw off any reporters that may have been lurking in the area.

Crystal waited for a few minutes after Daredevil turned over custody of the man to Mahoney before using her powers to scale up to the top of the building she saw him on top of. As she landed a little roughly on her feet, she staggered when her heart gave an irregular stutter before going into overdrive once again. 

She tried to get to her feet, but when she did, she got light-headed and began falling backwards toward the edge of the building. Before she could tumble off though, Daredevil was quickly by her side, pulling her into his strong arms before helping her to a nearby AC unit to lean against.

“Your heart…” he mumbled, placing his fingers on her carotid to assess her pulse. Crystal tried to control her breathing in order to slow down her heart, but was unsuccessful and she began to lose focus of her surroundings. “I need to get you to a hospital…” he mumbled, lifting her into his arms carefully. 

With black threatening to engulf her vision any second and panic beginning to set in at the severity of the episode, Crystal dropped her American accent without thinking and told him in her usual one, “No, no hospital, please…” After she said this, Crystal could have sworn she saw Daredevil’s lips part open in shock and heard him whisper her name under his breath, but wasn’t sure as black engulfed her vision and she lost consciousness. 

For what felt like mere moments, Crystal blacked out, only to come to in a living space she had never seen before. As her eyes fluttered open she was met with the bright light of a billboard shining through the large windows of the living space. “Where the-?” she whispered to herself, her heart kicking up in anxiety once more. As she whispered that she also realized that she was no longer wearing her balaclava or hat and began frantically reaching around the couch she found herself on to find them. 

“You’re safe,” came the voice of Daredevil from behind her, interrupting her search for the two pieces of clothing that hid her identity. What gave her a bigger shock than waking up in a stranger’s flat though was when she turned to look at Daredevil and saw him pull off his mask before saying again, “You’re safe Crystal.” It was Matt. 

“You, you’re, I-” Crystal stuttered out as shock continued to fill her body at the revelation. Matt Murdock was Daredevil? 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, breathe,” he whispered as he skillfully navigated his way to sit beside her on the leather couch, running a hand up and down her back to try and calm her down. Once her breathing and heart rate were back to normal, Matt asked, “Are you okay?”

Crystal scoffed before saying, “I mean okay is a relative term… I’d say shock is the best way to describe what I’m feeling right now.”

“And that’s completely understandable,” he told her. “Can I grab you some water? Let you think for a minute before we…address everything?”

“Oh, sure…” she whispered, feeling like she was having an out of body experience. After he returned and she drank nearly half the cup of water, she finally found her words, asking, “Okay, I mean absolutely no offense by this, but how…?” She trailed off at the end, unsure of how to finish her thought.

“How can I do what I do as Daredevil if I’m blind?” Matt asked with a quiet laugh. 

“Yeah, that…” Crystal mumbled. She hesitated for a moment before asking quietly, “Are…are you actually…?”

“Blind? Yeah,” Matt replied, a huff of air leaving his nose. He leaned back onto the couch as he told her, “When I was nine I was involved in an accident that resulted in losing my sight. From that moment on though, all my other senses were heightened. I was trained how to use them to my advantage and now…”

“Now you’re essentially a crime fighting ninja…” Crystal said with a quiet laugh. 

“If that’s how you see what I do, then yes,” Matt replied, a smile tugging on his lips at the joke. “When it first happened I was like you in thinking that because I was given such a gift, God chose to punish me by taking away my sense of sight.”

Crystal nodded and was quiet for a moment before saying, “Right before I…I passed out, I heard you say my name. How did you know it was me?”

“I suspected for a while, but when your heart started acting up that’s when I knew,” he admitted. “The accent always threw me off when I started thinking about it too much though,” he added with a shrug. 

She laughed before admitting, “The accent was something I did in an absolute panic when you cornered me for the first time.” 

Matt laughed and told her, “See, I thought I could tell that when you spoke it wasn’t your normal, but I just thought maybe you were pitching up or down, not using a whole different accent…”

Crystal shrugged a bit before asking, “So when we first worked together, you said you could hear the police officers’ hearts and that’s how you knew they were there. So when I have an episode…?”

“I can hear it, yeah. And it’s terrifying to me. I can't imagine how it is for you…” he said. “When it happened at Stardust I had to pretend that I couldn’t hear the decreasing amount of blood getting to your brain and the rest of your heart and I… I just froze because I was terrified of what could have happened if it didn’t get under control.”

“I’m sorry for putting you through that, I-” she tried to say but was stopped by Matt putting his hand up to stop her. 

“Don’t apologize for something that’s completely out of your control,” he told her, taking her hand in his and rubbing circles over the back of it. “Why don’t you get it fixed? Once you told me what it was I… I kinda looked into it and it’s treatable, so why don’t you?”

“Oh, uh… I mean health insurance at Stardust isn’t the best and all…” she mumbled quietly. 

Matt’s gaze landed on her heart for a few moments before saying, “That isn’t the whole truth.”

“H-how…?” 

“I’m a really good lawyer,” Matt said, a wide smile making its way onto his face at his own joke. “But really, I can tell when people lie by listening to their heart. Well…most of the time. You seem to be the one person I have a hard time reading sometimes.”

“Because of the stutters in my heart,” Crystal said, nodding her head in realization. 

“Exactly. It’s like a puzzle trying to solve you some days and I have to admit it’s my favorite pastime,” Matt said, subtly moving closer to her on the leather couch. 

Crystal’s heart began to pound inside her chest as Matt’s fingers ghosted their way from her jaw to right above her heart. She finally dared to glance up at Matt's face, framed by his tousled hair and then at his hazel eyes that she had never seen without his red lenses. He was a sight to be seen, that's for sure... She glanced down to where Matt’s hand rested then looked up to admire his handsome face again, before whispering, “Is it now?” breathlessly, the words barely audible to her own ears as she said them. She felt as though her breath was coming in even shallower now the closer he got to her. 

Matt nodded and told her, “The sounds your body makes are…unique. Your heartbeat is one of the most distinct ones I’ve ever heard. And your accent, God your accent is so beautiful.” His fingers began making their way back up to her jaw, then stopped right beside her lips and he added, “And that damn lip gloss you wear. You always match it to your perfume and some days it’s so intoxicating that I just want to…” His words trailed off as he moved to rest his forehead on hers, asking, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” she whispered, the word almost sounding desperate as she said it. 

And just like that, Matt gently pressed his lips to Crystal's, his hand drifting to the back of her neck to hold her in place, seemingly not wanting the kiss to end. After only a few moments though Crystal pulled away gently yet abruptly. This swift motion seemed to shock Matt, the emotion audible in his voice as he said, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” 

Crystal sighed quietly, digging her nails into her thighs as she whispered, "No, I just...” She let out a rough breath before finishing, “Bad things tend to happen to people I care about. I… I don't want something to happen to you."

In response, Matt coaxed her hand into his and squeezed gently before telling her, "I've had the same outlook for years, but... You can't give into the fear. If you do then you'll always regret what could have been."

After thinking over his words for a few moments, Crystal nodded and said, “I’m tired of being afraid…” before leaning back in for a proper kiss. 

With her panicked thoughts pushed aside now, Crystal sank into the kiss, a feeling of complete bliss filling her body as her lips danced with his, never wanting the moment to end. The kiss ended all too quickly though as Matt pulled away a few moments later, resting his forehead against hers once again as he let out a satisfied sigh, whispering, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long…”

“Me too…” she said with a quiet laugh, leaning in once more for a quick kiss. “God, I could kiss you all night…”

“How about Friday night after I take you on a date?” Matt asked, placing a kiss to her cheek this time. 

“That was smooth, Murdock,” Crystal told him with a laugh. “But yes, I think I would quite enjoy that.”

“Then a date it is. Friday evening at the Thai place down the road from Stardust?” Matt asked. 

An excited gasp left Crystal’s lips as she gushed, “That’s my favorite restaurant! How did you-?” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, a realization dawning on her as she asked, “Wait you knew didn’t you? You’ve heard me talk about it before haven’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Wait…so if you’ve heard me talking about that with Raeyes then…” She groaned as she put her face in her hands, heat rising into her cheeks at the many thoughts racing around her head. 

“You’re blushing,” Matt said, the smirk evident in his voice. 

“And you know that too… God how many embarrassing things have you heard me say or do?” She gasped as she said, “You totally knew when I was blushing when you flirted with me!”

“Yes, and I think it’s adorable,” he told her, that charming smile once again gracing his lips. 

“Embarrassing more like…” she mumbled into her hands as she shook her head. 

“I think the way your body reacts to me is very attractive. Don’t let that mind of yours think otherwise,” he told her.

Crystal laughed before saying, “This is going to take some getting used to…”

Friday night rolled around and Crystal was just finishing up getting ready for her date with Matt with Raeyes’s help. As Raeyes curled Crystal’s hair, she said excitedly, “I can’t believe you’re finally going on this date! How excited are you? Because I know that I’m excited for you!”

Crystal laughed nervously before replying, “I’m actually quite nervous…”

“No, no, no, no nerves, turn that energy into excitement! It’s your first first date in like…four years! These are exciting times!” Raeyes told her as she fluffed out the curls in Crystal’s hair. Raeyes rested her hands on Crystal’s shoulders and said with a devious smile, “Et voila! Your hair is perfect, but by the end of the night I expect it to be absolutely ruined!”

“Rae!” Crystal gasped in shock at the lewd comment. 

“I’m just saying! A man that fine has got to be great in bed and I expect that my work of art is going to be destroyed!” Raeyes teased once again as Crystal stood up from the dining chair to lightly punch her roommate in the shoulder. 

Heat instantly flooded Crystal’s face as she heard a knock at the door to their flat indicating that Matt was in the hall, presumably listening to the entire exchange. Raeyes let out a squeal of excitement and shoved Crystal’s purse into her hands before hugging her and saying, “Have a good night, make good choices, I don’t want to see you again ‘til tomorrow!”

Crystal couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at the words before she took a deep breath and headed toward the door to greet Matt. When she opened it, Crystal was immediately met with Matt’s charming smile as he greeted her, taking her hand and placing a kiss atop it. 

“So she doesn’t want to see you til tomorrow huh?” Matt asked in a sly tone as they walked together toward the lift, his hand wrapped around her bicep rather than using his cane, even though at this point Crystal now guessed that it was just for show anyway.

“How much of that did you hear?” Crystal asked, her eyes scrunching closed in embarrassment at the question. 

“For transparency’s sake, the whole thing,” he replied with a laugh as they stepped into the lift. 

“I am so sorry about her, she’s just…excited for me,” Crystal said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“And what about you? I can’t help but pick up on some nerves and making you uncomfortable is the last thing I want to do right now.” He ran his hand over the soft fabric of her dress as it made its way to her hip before telling her, “I may have bought some of that rosé you like so much with the intent of bringing you back to my place tonight so…”

“It shouldn’t be legal to be this suave…” Crystal told him, a smile breaking out onto her face at the prospect. 

“There is in fact no law against it,” Matt said as the lift door opened and they exited. 

“Oh right, Mr. Top Honors in law school,” Crystal joked. 

Her tone turned serious though as she took a deep breath and said, “Well if we’re being transparent here, then we might as well get the awkward part out of the way yeah?”

“If you’re okay with sharing,” Matt told her. 

“Well, better to say it now while we’re still in the building in case you…change your mind about this date…” Crystal said, slowing down their pace as they approached the doors. Deciding it would be best to just rip the band-aid off, she found herself rambling, telling Matt, “Well considering that you said you heard everything Raeyes said in the flat, you heard that it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a first date and I certainly haven’t even thought about it since I moved here. That’s because my…my last partner passed away and until now I haven’t been able to convince myself that I’m ready to date again… I mean don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely enamored with you and I want to be here, I just wanted you to know in case that’s kinda, I dunno… a-”

“Crystal, Crystal,” Matt said, running his hand down her arm and grabbing her hand, signalling her to stop. 

“Sorry, I, uh… God I keep mucking this up, don’t I?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose as she sighed in defeat. When she opened her eyes she saw a broad smile on Matt’s face, something he tended to do when she used a particularly British term around him. She laughed incredulously before asking, “This isn’t completely awkward and a turn off for you?”

“No, it’s not. Your rambling is actually endearing and you’re sharing things that need to be known going forward. I appreciate that,” he told her, taking her hands in his. “Now, I would still love for this date to happen, but if you’re not ready we don’t have to. Having someone you love die is one of the worst feelings and I understand if you aren’t ready.”

“How do you always know the bloody right thing to say Murdock?” Crystal asked, her gaze finally returning to his face which was filled with sincerity. 

“I do persuade people to do the right thing for a living,” Matt said with a shrug. “So, would you like to try again another time or would you like to continue?”

“I would love to see where this goes…” she told him, feeling a light blush on her cheeks as she smiled at him.

“Me too,” he said as they turned and continued making their way to the Thai restaurant. 

Once they made it to the restaurant and began chatting, Crystal began to feel her nerves drifting away the more Matt made her laugh and the more he continued to flirt with her. 

When they got their food, Crystal asked, “So do you have any family here in Hell’s Kitchen?”

Matt briefly raised his eyebrows and let out a quiet laugh before saying, “Believe it or not, I just found out who my mother is last year.”

“Oh?” Crystal asked curiously.

“Yeah. My dad was a boxer and he raised me by himself until he got killed because he won a match he wasn’t supposed to. After that I went to St. Agnes, the orphanage run by Clinton Church, and was raised by the nuns there. Turns out one of those nuns is my mother. Found that out rather unceremoniously, but…we’ve been working on our relationship.”

“Oh wow, that’s… I’m sorry about your dad, Matt…” Crystal whispered, a hand covering her mouth in slight shock. 

“Thank you. It’s been a lifetime of trying, but I’m trying to accept that maybe everything does happen for a reason,” he told her with a small smile on his lips. After a bite of food, he asked, “What about you? Any family back in London?”

“Blood relatives, yes. Would I consider us family, no,” she told him with a shrug. “Mum died just a couple months before I left and I’m dead to my father and brother.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mom,” he said with a nod, taking her hand across the table and squeezing it comfortingly. Using a brighter tone, he asked, “You have a brother? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned him.”

“Twin brother actually, he uh…he sorta hates me. I mean, I get it, when you have a twin sister who can do what I do and you can’t you tend to get jealous.” She scoffed and added, “Mum was really the only person who kept us from killing each other, and once she was gone he and father turned hateful. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

“Well whatever the circumstances, I’m glad you’re here,” Matt told her. “For me, Foggy’s the closest thing I have to a brother. Since we met at Columbia his family’s treated me like their own. We only tend to nearly kill each other occasionally.”

“With you, I have no doubt you mean that literally,” Crystal said with a laugh. 

“Guilty as charged,” he said. 

When there was a lull in the conversation a few minutes later, Crystal asked, “What’s your favorite candy?”

After a few moments of silence, Matt finally replied, “Well, because of…certain aspects of my senses, I tend to like organic dark chocolates. The less processing something has the better. What about you?”

“Well this is something that has changed since I came here, but… I’ve got the biggest sweet tooth for strawberry mentos. Raeyes says I have an obsession, which I think is an overstatement, but…”

“But you also had several when you were getting ready for tonight,” Matt said, a playful smirk on his lips. 

“How did you-” she started to say but then laughed, saying, “Right. Nevermind. Still gotta get used to that.”

“It took Foggy and Karen a while to get used to it as well.”

Crystal raised an eyebrow before asking, “Oh so Foggy and Karen know about…?”

He nodded, saying, “Foggy found out himself and I ended up telling Karen.” 

“Does Marci?” 

“No. And we intend on keeping it that way. The more people who know, the harder it is to keep them and myself safe,” he said. He took a sip from his drink before asking, “Does Raeyes know about you?”

Crystal nodded, telling him, “I told her that first night we worked together.” She laughed before admitting, “At first she thought I was going out to hook up with you actually. I thought about telling her I was but then I felt like she would start prying when you visited the shop. Turns out I was with you just…not in that way.”

“So you have thought about shagging me?” he asked, a shit-eating grin on his face as a furious blush made its way onto Crystal’s cheeks. 

Crystal fumbled over her words for a few seconds before finally settling on, “I plead the fifth."

“Fair enough,” Matt said, seemingly unable to stop grinning at her reaction to his comment. 

Before he could offer anything more up in the conversation, the server came over to their table and asked, “Anything else I can get for you two tonight? Dessert maybe?”

“Just the check, thank you,” Matt told her with a warm smile. As she walked away, he told Crystal, “I forgot to mention I bought ingredients to make brownies to go with the wine when we get back to my place.”

“You really know the way to a girl’s heart, don’t you?” Crystal asked, feeling a warmth rise in her chest at all of the gestures Matt had made throughout the night already. 

“I’m honestly grasping for straws here,” he told her with a laugh. 

“Well you’re doing a bang up job,” she replied. 

“And I intend on continuing that back at my place,” he said, sending her a wink behind his red lenses. 

The next morning, Crystal’s eyes fluttered open as light began filtering through the curtains in Matt’s bedroom. “Good morning, beautiful,” Matt’s groggy voice said as he tightened his hold around her. 

“Good morning, handsome,” she mumbled back, lazily running her fingers over his toned abdominal muscles. As she snuggled her body closer to Matt, she asked, “Want me to make breakfast? I’ve got a brilliant quiche recipe.”

“You know, most women I’ve ever had over don’t offer to cook the next morning,” Matt told her with a chuckle, running his hand over her bare skin, a chill following in its wake. 

“Yes, well, I thought we established that I’m not like most other women you’ve dated,” she told him with a quiet laugh. She turned her face toward his, kissing his jaw before telling him, “Now I’m going to go make breakfast before we get distracted with part two of last night.”

“I wouldn’t mind skipping breakfast for that,” Matt told her before kissing the top of her head and pulling her body on top of his. 

“You’re making this really hard, Murdock,” Crystal said with a giggle. “But you thoroughly wore me out last night and now I’m starving, so food is a must.”

“I’ll just wear you out again after,” Matt told her playfully as he let her get up from the bed, offering her a shirt from his dresser. Crystal pulled on the shirt and her knickers before quietly padding into the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast. 

As they ate breakfast together soon after, Matt placed his fork on the table before saying, “Okay, I can’t try to ignore it anymore. Is everything okay? You’ve been acting almost…cautious this morning and you didn’t sing while you cooked like you usually do. Did…did I do something wrong? Was I too-?”

“No, no, no, you were perfect! It’s nothing you did, I promise,” Crystal blurted out, stopping him before he could try and blame himself for her behavior. She scratched the back of her neck before admitting, “I just started overthinking is all… It’s just…knowing how your senses work I got to thinking and I just feel incredibly annoying. I feel like every noise I make is too loud and I-”

“You didn’t seem to be worried about that last night,” he said with a cocky smirk. Crystal opened and closed her mouth as she tried to come up with a witty response, but couldn’t, so Matt teased, “You’re blushing.”

“Sorry…” she said bashfully as she took a sip of her juice. 

“Don’t be, like I told you last night, the way your body reacts to me is incredibly attractive,” he told her warmly. “And don’t worry about being cautious or quiet around me. I know how to tune out what I don’t want to listen to, and you…you’re something I will never get tired of listening to.”

“I’ll try not to think about it too much,” she agreed. 

“Good. Now how about we head back to my room and you make good on your promise? You got me thinking about last night, and well…” he said, pulling her close and into a passionate kiss. 

“I think we can make that happen…” she said between kisses as she jumped into his strong arms before he carried her off to the bedroom once more.

next chapter

[takeabigbiteblog]

“I Only Popped In for Milk — And Ended Up Questioning My Life Choices in Morrisons (Again)”

You know those days when it’s hotter than Satan’s armpit and you think, “I’ll just nip into Morrisons for a couple bits”? Yeah, that was me. A casual Wednesday. Temperature sitting pretty at 79°F (that’s 26°C for the rest of us not clinging to Fahrenheit like it's the Queen’s currency). The kind of heat that makes your thighs stick together, your patience run thinner than budget toilet roll, and your inner child scream, “ICE CREAM, YOU FOOL, GET ICE CREAM!”

But let��s rewind a bit.

I walk into Morrisons with the energy of a tired pigeon. Just a light shop, I told myself. A bit of bread, maybe some eggs, you know — the sensible stuff that real adults buy. But then I did the loop. You know the one — start by the fruit and veg pretending you’re healthy, then snake your way through bakery (ignore the doughnuts, they’re judging you), past the crisps like you’re strong enough to say no, then bam — you’re in the frozen section and suddenly Chicago Town pizza is in your hand like it teleported there. Did I need it? No. Did I care? Also no. It's 26 bloody degrees and I’m barely functioning.

And that’s when it hit me. The craving. That primal voice from the depths of my sunbaked soul:

"ICE CREAM. NOW."

So off I marched to the holy grail — the frozen desserts aisle. You know that bit in the movies where the heavens part and the angels sing? That was me, standing in front of the ice cream freezer like I’d just reached Nirvana through dairy. But bloody hell, the options. We’ve got 2-litre tubs big enough to bathe in, Cornettos in flavours I didn’t know existed, vegan oat milk things pretending to be ice cream (bless ‘em), and those overpriced branded ones that give you four tiny bars for the same price as a family-sized tub. Madness.

After a good five minutes stood there like a confused meerkat, I locked eyes with Snickers ice cream bars. My stomach went, “Hell yes.” My brain whispered, “It’s £2 for four, mate. You can get a whole bloody tub for that.” But did I listen to reason? Of course I didn’t. My eyes had already overruled my brain. Happens a lot, if I’m honest.

But wait — plot twist. As I sauntered towards self-checkout like some snack-laden god, what do I see?

KitKat Mocha Nescafé.

Mocha. Bloody. KitKat.

Now if there’s one thing I need more of, it’s coffee-flavoured anything. But you best believe that sucker ended up in the basket. There’s no justice. Only impulse.

I scanned my bits, dodged a woman arguing with the self-checkout about her leeks, and bagged up my guilt. Then it was time to queue for the Too Good To Go bags — the only form of gambling I regularly participate in. Ten-minute wait, standard. My feet were killing me. I was already regretting the pizza. I’d sweated through the lining of my shirt. But the British spirit kept me going (that, and the £3.09 bag of mystery food I’d convinced myself would be life-changing).

Eventually, I’m on my way home. Bags in both hands. Paper, obviously — because I wanted to feel good about saving the turtles or whatever. And guess what?

The fucking handle broke.

Middle of the street. Bag half open. Gravity threatening to yeet my ice cream and coffee KitKats into oncoming traffic. I had that split second moment of “Do I just abandon it all and live in the woods?” But no. I clutched it like a newborn child and soldiered on.

Finally got home. Sweaty. Grumpy. Stomach doing the samba. What’s the first thing I did?

Put the kettle on.

(Obviously.)

It’s like a national reflex. You come in from shopping and suddenly you’re halfway through your second cuppa before you even know what the hell you bought. Somewhere between the first sip and the fourth biscuit, I remember the Snickers ice creams. My overpriced little frozen indulgences. I was still annoyed about the price — £2 for four fun-size bars? That’s 50p per disappointment.

Still, I unwrapped one. Took a bite. And… meh.

It was alright. Just alright.

The caramel wasn’t caramelly enough. The chocolate was trying too hard. The peanut bit was the best part, but honestly, I could’ve just had a Snickers bar from the shelf and stuck it in the fridge.

One bite and I muttered to myself:

“Well that was bollocks.”

Then I made another tea. It’s how we cope.

Sat at the kitchen table, legs sore, brain frazzled, I had one of those shopping hangovers — when you’re not sure what you actually spent money on but you know it wasn’t worth it. I could’ve got a whole tub for that price. Hell, two litres of glorious ice cream. I could've lived in that tub. And instead I’ve got four bars that taste like regret.

Lesson learned: always trust tub over stick.

So now, I sit here — possibly six cups of tea deep, surrounded by Too Good To Go mystery groceries, and a melting sense of disappointment — sharing my pain with you. Because shopping in a heatwave is not just an errand, it’s a bloody odyssey.

And next time I go to Morrisons, I’ll probably do it all over again.

Because that’s what we do.

We pop in for milk.

We come out with guilt.

And we learn nothing.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 201

Not even gonna lie, I kinda gave up on the queue at this point. It seems like every time there is an update to the site, my scheduled posts vanish. So, instead, I brought my tablet and a mobile hotspot to work so I could post on time,

Got to do what you got to do, right?

Shout outs for this week go to @bogwalkr and @peachymis, both of whom have been going through chapters at a very impressive clip.

Thanks, as always, goes to @baelpenrose for his beta reading, and also @quantumizedinsanity, who is trying to help me get this huge thing cleaned up for AO3.

“Can I retire yet?” I groaned as I fell on my sofa.

Immediately, I levitated back to a standing position with a shriek when a disembodied voice responded. “You have four more months until then, Wisdom.”

One hand slammed into my sternum while the other braced against the nearest sturdy surface as I caught my breath. “Are… are you speaking to me again, Miys?”  Thankfully, I didn’t even have to remind myself to not get my hopes up, seeing as I was half panicking and half mad as hell.

“I have never declined to speak to you.”

Wincing at the literal nature of the response, I tried again. “I was under the impression that you were angry with me, specifically, and no longer fraternizing with the humans on board, in general.  This is definitely the first time in several months that you have voluntarily spoken to me unless I asked a direct question in an official capacity.”

“Technically, asking an empty room the remaining duration of your tenure in your current role with the Council is a question in an official capacity, and one which could be interpreted to be directed at me.”

Discretion was the better part of valor, and cowardice sufficed, so I agreed to let it drop. “I thought I had one Terran year after the establishment of the Colony?”

“A year which will largely consist of handing over your responsibilities and smoothing the transition, not any actual work.”

Shaking my head, I made my way to the console. “One adult beverage, hold the additional nutrients just this once,” I asked before continuing. “And I don’t know where you got the impression that handing over a job isn’t actual work.”

“I fail to see the laborious part of a transition in which you have been training your replacement options for the better part of a decade.”

“Oooo,” I drew out mischievously. “You really are talking to me again. And to what may I attribute this wondrous occasion?”

“I am simply responding to your inquiry and also attempting to report a malfunction within the computers that is preventing new information from being transmitted to the escort fleet.  The time stamps are updating, but the data transmissions are simply reporting data from the last fourteen ship days. It is also transmitting the data out of sequence. It is distressing.”

Surrrre it is, bud. I’d received more impassioned weather reports. Out loud, I assured them “I’ll have Derek take a look. I assume that is why you told me rather than Pranav or Alice?”

A buzzing hum betrayed their coming excuse. “I am not entirely certain that Derek is not the cause.”

I arched a brow at the ceiling and pursed my lips to one side. “It’s not like he’s going to lie about it. He’ll just refuse to fix it.”

“I still request that you belay any inquiry in that direction until I am certain.”  The response was rushed, which told me all I needed to know.

Miys had done it, and humans dinking around in the system were the scapegoat. “In that case, let me know when you’ve finished your investigation, and I will put the appropriate parties on it,” I caged.

“Duly noted. What will you do once you leave the Council?”

I twisted my neck into a very uncomfortable position, purely out of confusion. “I’m…. I’m not sure, Miys.”

“You may call me Noah, Wisdom.” There was a subsonic hum behind the normal buzz of their ‘casual’ tone.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do when I leave the Council, Noah,” I sighed, sitting on the couch again and dropping my head against the back. “I suck at glass blowing, at any constructive portions of agriculture, and my knitting is ugly at best.”

Another hum issued from the ceiling, and my heart twisted in hope for better times. “You show significant proficiency in combat medicine - a disturbing amount for a human with no record of enlistment, radicalism, or training.”

“Eyeah. We’re not going into medicine.”

“Your psychological profile is rather counter indicative. What about your aptitude in cultivating spores?”

I scowled softly. “Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than is necessary or healthy is not an aptitude.”

My drink spilled down my shirt when I heard Tyche’s voice drily intone “You would be surprised.”

“What the fuck!?” I shouted, brushing droplets off of me. “You called my sister?”

“I apologize, I did not.” A grinding noise I had never noticed before was added to their voice, and I wondered if it was a malfunction or an emotion I hadn’t identified yet. “I am unable to accurately produce the necessary level of emotional tone, and have established that Tyche’s tone is the one you are most responsive to in the regard to that emotion.”

Of fucking course. I rubbed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Hokay. Let’s run this back. You mentioned my proficiency in cultivating spores. I said ‘Leaving food in my fridge entirely longer than necessary or healthy is not an aptitude’.”

“You would be surprised.”

“You want me to learn to grow fungi.” In context and less startled, I blinked several times. “Wait. Waitwait wait.”  Scrabbling, I bolted to set my drink in the console for a refill while I flicked my datapad open and started typing furiously. “Noah, I need you to send me all mycologists on the Ark. If you find them before I do, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“I do not eat Terran food.”

“But you do ingest composted matter, and I can get that. You can do whatever you do while we chat. We’ll have dinner. It works…” I trailed off as my search came up with one biologist with a focus in the topic and three with sub-specialties. “Okay, we do have mycologists…. That’s a good sign.” Granted, it wasn’t very many, but if I went that route I would have someone to show me the ropes.

“Cultivation of spores on hot planets is particularly difficult.”

“We have caves,” I waved off. “Networks and networks of caves. The humidity is excellent in subsurface formations warmed by geothermal springs.”

“If humans do not take up the space.” Was Miys wheedling? That sounded like wheedling.

“Most humans despise humidity unless there is a corresponding amount of airflow,” I assured them. “Else will be fine, I just need to figure out what their preferred diet is these days….”

“Yes, Else.” The confirmation was sharper than I was used to, but I shook my head and continued on with the new challenge.

“AH!” I barked. “Says here that eighty percent of Else’s current configuration subsists on high protein vegetable matter and - capsaicin. Whoops! Sorry about that, Noah.” It did no good to even pretend I was blameless in our resident fledgling species’ love of the spice.  Granted, I was maybe half of half of half of a percent responsible, but still. Culpability.

“Technically, bell peppers contain capsaicin, and I am quite all right with those.”

That made my brows furrow. “Noah, Else loves capsaicin, the higher the concentration the better. Bell peppers aren’t going to cut it.”

“I understand that the podlings prefer much spicier fare,” Noah conceded. “But it does cause me burns.”

Suddenly, their interest in my future vocation seemed a lot less like concern for Else. Very, very carefully, I ventured my next comment. “We have the areas of the Ark dedicated to cultivation of foods that may harm you designated as a biohazard.”

“This is correct.”

“And the bell peppers are not in there,” I pointed out. “They are in the same BioLabs as the lettuces so that they go into the same biowaste containers. Because we know you like them.”

“This is also correct.”

“Is someone growing spicy spice in those labs without our knowledge? In labs other than One and Five?”

“This is not accurate. No, Wisdom, they are not.”

I nodded slowly. “So you are suggesting that we cultivate the produce from BioLabs three, four, seven, and ten in locations on Von as far from the produce from Biolabs One and Five as possible?”

“That would be preferred.”

“And Biolab Six is safe to put near the spicier group?” Six was dedicated to simulated genetic sequencing on Terran livestock that was considered either unkosher or haram.

“Yes, Wisdom.”

I nodded again. “But not Nine.” Nine was the same aquaponics lab that Eino assisted in, the one that smelled like hell and cow farts.

“Certainly not Nine. Data indicates that the crops in Nine would work far better embedded in the crops from Four and Seven, specifically.”

“Hmm.” I raised my brows and stood to get another drink. Four and Seven held crops that were especially prone to rot and required a significant degree of climate control. Which made them a very odd choice to suggest they be grown near the aquaponic crops. Something was going on, that much I knew.  I couldn’t tell if it was help or sabotage. “Well then. A toast. To computer malfunctions, mycology, and… knowing what crops don’t mix well.”

“Indeed.”

I needed someone a bit more familiar with this, for sure. And I knew just where to start.

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[annoyingstupidmiracle]

Frat Boy- l.r.h.

CONTAINS SMUT...OBVIOUSLYY

Word Count: 2813

I hope y’all enjoy ;) Lmk what you think, and I DO accept requests!!!

I sighed while thumbing through the stack of papers on the desk that were waiting to be completed. I was currently working on physics- my worst subject. As soon as I began to work, a crowd of voices entered the room. Turning around, I encountered my sorority sisters who were all laughing. Yeah, I’m a sorority girl. We’re all apart of Alpha Phi, the hot girls who did well in their classes, but didn’t choose the big majors, and we partied... a lot. Which is exactly why I’m having trouble with my subjects, because I had gone to class hungover from the Frat party we went to last week. 

“I heard there’s a Frat party tonight.” One of the girls, Leah, said to the group. I instantly stopped writing and listened in on the conversation.

“Yeah, isn’t it at Alpha Delta?” Another girl asked. My heart instantly dropped. There had been one of the frat boys that shared nearly every class with me, which was another reason I hadn’t been able to get all of my work done. He was the most attractive person I had ever seen, and I couldn’t concentrate around him. 

Checking the time, I silently cursed to myself. My last class of the day started in nearly 15 minutes, which also happens to be one of the classes I share with the Adonis. I shoved my earbuds in my ears and gathered my textbooks before exiting the house. I hurried across campus to the correct building, just when the door swung open, knocking me back and causing the books to drop from my arms to the ground. Stumbling, I tore the earbuds from my ears and went to yell at the person who was in such a hurry to leave the building but came up speechless as my eyes met the blue ones of the special frat boy, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. 

“(y/n)?” He spoke causing my mouth to run dry. My heartbeat harshly in my chest as I stared at him. 

“H-How do you know my name?” I asked finally after moments of silence.

“We have pretty much every class together, you know?” I nodded, still allowing my eyes to bore into his. “And I see you at all the parties.”

“Yeah, my sorority sisters make me go.”

“Ah, not a partier then?”

I shrug. “Depends on my mood, I guess.” He smiles at my response before crouching down to gather my textbooks. 

“Well, then I hope I can put you in the mood to come to my frat’s party tonight?”

“We’ll see,” I say with a smirk, finally gaining my confidence back.

“We will.” He replies, smiling back at me. He stood back up and extended his arms that held my books in them. I pulled them into my chest and watched as he opened the door for me to enter. I decided to sit myself in the middle row so I didn’t drag too much attention to myself, but just enough so that the professor will think I’m listening enough to not call on me. 

The door of the classroom opened again, and a loud laugh followed. There, entering the building was Calum Hood. Another frat boy, who was also part of the same frat as the pretty blonde boy across the room. They walked up to one another, joking around and shoving one another in the isle of seats. I was pushed out of my daze by a hand squeezing my upper arm. 

“See something you like- or should I say someone?” I turned around and met the mischievous eyes of Ashton Irwin, my sorority sister Leah’s, boyfriend. 

“Shut the hell up.” I grumbled. 

“I hear his frat is having a party tonight.”

I nod, gulping at the thought. “Yeah, they are. What’s it to you?”

“Leah told me. She also told me that you have the hots for-” Before he could say anything further, I cupped a hand over his mouth.

“I swear, if you ruin this-” I was cut off by him licking the palm of my hand causing me to move it away from him. “You’re disgusting.”

“Not as disgusting as the sex you’re-”

“What about sex?” A perky voice questioned while plopping in the seat beside me. I groaned, turning to who I already knew was Michael. 

“You guys are going to ruin this for me.”

“Ruin what exactly?” Mikey asked. Ashton nodded his head over at the blonde who was talking to Calum. 

“Miss (y/n) has a crush on our boy Luke.” I let my head fall into my hands and sighed. 

“I don’t have a crush on him. I just- think he’d look good like... I don’t know. In my bed?”

Mikey laughed. “And your car, and in the shower-” 

“Okay, okay. Can you guys please stop giving me shit?” I begged.

“Alright, students!” A loud voice boomed through the room. We all stopped our conversations and faced the professor. “Today, we’re learning about the reproductive system!” Ah, right, anatomy. Of course, it had to be today that we learned how the penis ejaculates.

*

I ran my fingers through my now curled (h/c) hair as I stared at my makeup that Leah had done for me. She sat back with her arms crossed and a smirk spread across her face. “Well, don’t you look hotter than before.”

I laughed, “thanks. I’m fucking nervous.”

“Babe, Luke won’t be able to control himself. You know how he is.” I sighed. Yeah, Luke was the type to get around on campus. That’s why I hated myself for having growing feelings for the guy. I usually avoided going to the same parties as him, but I couldn’t avoid the sexual tension for long. I used to tutor him, our sophomore year, it took everything in me not to drop on my knees. He had me weak every time I saw him. Everyone could see it, hell, I think he could too. 

“You really think so?”

“Have you not heard the things he’s said about you?” I shook my head. “Well, maybe if you didn’t have your earbuds in your ears all the damn time, you’d know.”

I blushed at her words and stood up, finally ready. I had fishnet tights over my legs along with a tight black dress that stopped barely midthigh. Platform heels decorated my feet and strapped up my ankles. Along with it all, I decided against any sort of undergarments in hopes that I’d get lucky with a specific hot blonde. 

“Alright, I’m ready.” Leah grinned and dragged me out the door. We walked for a few minutes along the sidewalk in the cool October air until we finally met with the huge fraternity. They had a huge sheet with spray painted Greek lettering on it in order to stick out to everyone attending the party. The sun had already set and people were walking up the path to the double doors of the house. Ashton was waiting, leaning against one of the pillars of the house while chatting with Michael and Calum. I gulped, squeezing the arm of Leah who gave me a reassuring look.

“You’ll be fine, just go in and take a few shots.” I nodded and followed her up to the boys.

“Ah, you actually came!” Calum cheered while staring at me.

“Me?” I asked.

“Yeah, Luke said he invited you.” He said with a grin. “You look good, by the way.” And with that, he walked inside. Leah looked over at me and smirked.

“I told you they think you’re hot.” She says while elbowing my side. I giggled and rolled my eyes. 

“Alright, Mikey. Come in and take some shots with me.”

“You convinced me. Let’s go.”

We walked inside and were instantly met with the dank smell of weed and booze. I took a deep breath in order to get used to the smell and looked around. I seemed to be one of very few girls who decided to dress like this for a party, but I didn’t mind. Eyes trailed behind me as I walked, and I loved it. One of the many perks of being apart of Alpha Phi.

“Damn, (y/n), you’re like a fucking celebrity.” Mikey joked while nudging me. I finally reached the alcohol and poured us each a shot of some Pink Whitney. We clinked our glasses together and threw our heads back, letting the harsh liquid flow down our throats. I clenched my eyes together, shaking my head. 

“Alright, another one.” Mikey grabbed the bottle, laughing at my words as he poured the alcohol into the small glass. With another tilt of my head, my second shot was down then a third and a fourth only minutes later.

“(y/n)?” I turned around towards the voice and met with Luke who stood there with an unopened beer in his hand. 

“And that’s my queue to leave.” Mikey said while walking away.

“I came.” I told him while gesturing to myself.

“Yeah, you look hot.” He compliments, eyeing my form a few times to take in my appearance.

I swallowed my pride and smiled at him, “so do you.”

Luke seemed to think for a second before speaking. “Do you want to grab a beer and go out on the balcony with me?” He asked, shocking me.

“I, uh, yeah. Sure.” Bending down into the cooler, I felt his eyes on me the entire time. I smirked, wrapping my hands around a cold can and stood back up. He reached out to grab my hand and lead me through the large crowd of people up the stairs. There were a few straggling drunks in the hallway of the second story, but no one that was watching as he took me out the double doors of the balcony. I cracked open the can and sipped on the beer nervously, waiting to see what his plan was.

“So, is this the part where you kill me?” I joke while watching as he popped his can open as well.

“Actually, it’s the part where I tell you what I want to do to you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said, I just wanted to talk.” What the fuck am I thinking? Nodding, I allowed him to go on. “I wanted to hang out with you alone, but a party is fine too.”

“Mhm,” I mumble against the cold can of beer against my lips. Luke seemed to let his eyes trail down my legs covered in the lacey material before throwing his head back.

“Fuck the small talk.”

“What do you-“ Before I could finish my sentence, he had taken three intimidating steps towards me and cupped my cheek in his hand, pressing his lips against mine. My heartbeat sped up, and my stomach flipped as well. I didn’t hesitate to let my free hand tangle in the back of his hair, pulling at the ends. He groaned against my lips before eventually pulling away. Looking down into my eyes, he searched them for some sort of reaction. I blinked innocently up at the frat boy and smiled.

“I can’t get your gorgeous face out of my head, (y/n).”

“Thank god.” He cocked his head in confusion, so I elaborated. I took a few chugs of my beer before finishing it and tossing the can to the ground. “I really, really want you.”

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He nearly growls under his breath before grabbing my wrist and taking me back inside to what I’m assuming is his bedroom. Without another word, he closed and locked the door behind me before pressing me against it. I gasped with surprise but felt nothing but pleasure as he lifted me up by my thighs and carried me over to the bed. I plopped down onto the mattress and watched as he tore his shirt from his body and discarded it to the side.

Luke curled his fingers around the edge of my dress and pulled it up over my waist. I stared at him to get his reaction when he notices- “You’re not wearing any… Did you expect this to happen?” He questioned with a laugh.

I nodded, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth. “I hoped it would.”

“With me?” I nodded again. His eyes flickered down to my womanhood before starting to pull down my tights. One they were down my legs, he looked back up at me and put two fingers between his lips, letting his spit drench them before inserting them inside of me. I jerked upwards, leaning up on my elbows as my mouth fell open in an ‘o.’ “You like that?”

“Mhm, yeah.” I moaned causing him to thrust them in and out of me. I allowed myself to relax as I grew wetter by the second. After a few seconds, he added his mouth which only made me moan louder. His tongue flattened against my clit, circling around it in a pattern that drew me close to the edge. He was amazing with his mouth. “L-Luke, please.” I begged, but he didn’t stop. Although I wanted to cum around him, I couldn’t help it. He wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked while curling his fingers inside of me. My chest heaved up and down as my thighs attempted to clench together while my climax approached. He used his free hand to keep my legs from closing and felt as they shook at his touch. “Fuck!” I screamed out. He chuckled against me before sitting up and pushing me farther on the bed. With quick hands, he pulled my dress over my head and stared at my chest.

“No bra either?” I smiled cheekily up at him before his hands came down and groped my breasts. I reached down and unbuttoned his jeans before sliding them down his legs revealing his name brand boxers. I nearly drooled at the size of the bulge before palming him through the thin material. Carefully, I pulled his member out and pumped him a few times. “God, your hands feel so good.”

“I bet my mouth would feel better.” I say confidently. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised as I switched my position so that I was sitting up. I parted my lips enough to allow him to slide in my mouth. I dragged my lips down to his shaft, my nose brushing against the happy trail against his navel. Groaning, Luke tangled his hand in my hair, pushing my head down slightly. The tip brushed the back of my throat, allowing for more spit to lubricate his member. I pulled off him and looked up.

“I know what would feel even better.” Luke says before pushing my shoulders back against the bed, pinning me underneath him. Spreading my legs, I waited for him to slide past my entrance and let an erotic moan erupt from my throat as he did. “Yeah, much better.”

“Please,” I whined.

“Please what?” Luke smirked. He knew what he was doing.

“Please fuck me, Luke. I need you so bad.” And with that, he slammed himself in me all the way. Our moans filled the room as well as the sound of skin slapping together. I lifted one of my legs up and rested it on his shoulder as he pounded in and out of me. My back arched against the mattress as my nails scratched the skin on his back, clearly leaving marks. Without warning, he pulled out of me.

“If I go any longer, I’ll bust so hang on.” I laughed at his words and waited for him to grab a condom. Once he did, he slid it over him and lined himself back up with my entrance. Grabbing the backs of my thighs, he held onto them as he began to slam himself in and out of me constantly, and roughly. I reached a hang down between my legs and rubbed at my clit to get myself closer to the edge, knowing he was close as well.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” I whimper. Luke chuckles and spreads my legs even wider, hiking them over his shoulders before leaning down against me. His lips latched onto mine, getting me closer to my orgasm. My body begins to shake as I reach my second climax of the night, feeling him twitch inside me as he reaches his as well.

“Good fucking girl.” Luke growled, watching me writhe beneath him. I breathed out, finally able to catch my breath and looked at the blonde through tired eyes.

“I thought you were good in bed, but not that good.” I admitted causing him to chuckle.

“Glad to meet your expectations.” After throwing away the condom, he pulled his pants back over his legs and tossed me a clean shirt that was neatly folded on the nightstand. I looked at him with confusion.

“What’s this for?”

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere tonight- or for a while.”

Laughing, I slid the shirt over my head so that it draped over my bare torso. “So, that means what exactly?”

“I’m gonna make you mine, whether you like it or not.”

“Not complaining.”

[adorethedistance]

A Pretty Good Bad Idea - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, peer pressure kinda, very mild n fluffy

Words: 1865

Summary: Touring with the Julie and The Phantoms cast as a dancer has been the best time of your life, and the only thing that could make it better is the reciprocated affections of a cute, blond drummer.

A/N: So this piece is 1) inspired by this interview and 2) entirely self indulgent. It’s something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind every time I’m doing warm ups, and putting it down on ,, digital paper is my only way to get rid of it lmao. I hope y’all enjoy bc I know this scenario makes me really happy and I love sharing my joy with y’all.

I let out an involuntary whine when I roll forward into my almost-center splits. My hips are so sore from yesterday’s performance I had to force myself to start stretching in the first place. Getting a head start, I arrived at the concert venue an hour earlier than call time to get my lengthy stretching routine out of the way before the other girls show up. Slowly but surely, the rest of the dancers arrived and we began getting ready together.

“I have a speaker!” Tori announces to the room upon entering which makes me jump up from my seat.

“Yes! May I do the honors and bless y’all with my musical theatre playlist?” The rest of the group cheers, exposing themselves for the theatre kids that we are. After hearing the chime that signifies the speaker-phone pairing, a few seconds pass before “Cell Block Tango” begins to play. The entire group feigns outrage but we know all the words and soon indulge in such shameful pandering. A good pre-show playlist is what really gets me amped up for performing and after yesterday’s queue of ‘today’s hits’ pop, the musical theatre is a nice change of pace.

Since I’d gotten here so early, I decided to do my makeup before stretching and I still had time to spare. The only thing left for me to do was to get in costume but I’d wait until a little closer to showtime so that I could still eat and drink for the time being. This also meant I was free to roam and bother other people as they got ready, doing what I’d done almost an hour ago.

“So, Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on with you and Owen?” I feel my breathing halt for a microsecond before looking up at, one of the other dancers and also my friend, Ella. My eyebrows are cinched in confusion as I try my best to figure out what it is she’s getting at.

“I don’t know, Ella. What is going on with me and Owen?”

“Oh come on. Your Instagram story from yesterday?” Oh. That.

“We just went to lunch?” I seemingly ask more than state.

“Yeah. Just the two of you. Don’t hold out on us, we wanna know what’s going on!”

“Really, Ella, there’s nothing going on. We’re just getting to know each other better.”

“Just getting to know each other better? Or getting to know each other better?” Tori butts in, dusting her cheeks with a subtle highlight.

“The first one?”

“How many times have you hung out?”

“Just the once.”

“Are you planning another date?”

“It wasn’t a date-”

“Do you want us to help wingman you?”

“I really don’t-”

“Hey.” The rapid-fire of questions cease when the gang of us look up to see Owen himself standing in the doorway.

“Speak of the devil,” Tori snickers as the rest of the girls slowly disperse and smugly resume doing their makeup. Owen makes a face in reaction to her comment but chooses not to pry.

“Could I borrow some hairspray? This one piece of hair won’t stay.” Despite each of the girls having a full can of hairspray on hand, nobody makes a move to give him the product, indicating that I should be the one to help him out. Rolling my eyes at the look Ella is giving me through the mirror, I stand from my chair and hand Owen the can of hairspray. He then looks straight ahead and moves to use the product but I stop him before he can.

“What’s your plan?”

“What?”

“Are you just gonna spray the piece?”

“...yeah?”

“That’s not gonna work since the rest of your hair already has product in it. Can I help you?” Owen nods amiably and takes a seat after I gesture for him to sit in my chair. I then realize my mistake as I need the comb on the grey countertop, and have to consequently reach past Owen in a way that wouldn’t be so compromising had I not worn such a low-cut top. Thankfully it’s over as fast as it began, and walking to the sink in the corner of the dressing room, I run the cool water over the bristles. It isn’t until I turn off the tap that I notice how eerily quiet the room had gotten. None of the girls are talking, attentively studying my every move as I cross back to Owen.

“Is this Chicago?”

“Uh, yeah, We’re listening to my musical theatre playlist though, not the whole soundtrack,” I respond in spite of the nervous laugh that falls from my lips. The slight slouch in Owen’s posture doesn’t help me to see what I’m doing clearly enough. Using my index finger and an upturned palm, I tilt his chin up to get a better look at his hair, willfully ignoring the fact that he’s staring at me right now.

Still, silence fills the room as I take the wet comb through the front section of his hair where the stubborn strand won’t stay put. Once the water binds the pieces together, I grab my can of hairspray and struggle to uncap it. The outside is slick from god knows what, but thankfully Owen doesn’t let me struggle anymore and holds up his hands to wordlessly offer his help. I hand him the can, and he pops the top off after barely struggling. Handing the can back to me, he holds onto the lid, and the entire exchange remains completely silent.

I have to work quickly in my next step, but it’s not enough to distract from the fact that everyone in the room is watching me intently. Holding the aerosol can away from the crowd of people, I put some of the product on the comb and quickly work it into Owen’s hair while it’s still wet. Once the comb has formed his hair to my liking, I stop brushing it through in fear of the now dry hairspray ruining the shape. Then, I use my left hand to shield Owen’s eyes from getting any product in them before spraying the offending area to seal in my hard work.

The sound of a cell door sliding closed signifies the end of the song, and I wait for a second, eagerly anticipating the next song to play. Upon hearing the staccato piano notes of “Bad Idea” from Waitress, a smile appears on my face.

“I love this song.” Lunging back on my right leg, I create a little distance between us to make sure I didn’t completely butcher the rest of his hair, singing as I do.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I know, I totally agree.” Pleasantly surprised by his joining in, my smile grows bigger.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you.”

“I’ve never known anything so true-”

“It’s a terrible idea, me and you.” The effortlessness that the two of us find in harmonizing is a genuine shock and an absolute thrill all at once. Once Owen sees how excited I am by his joining in me, it’s like a switch had been flipped; the two of us immediately slip into Actor Mode and begin to sing the song as if we were performing it on a Broadway stage.

“You have a wife.” I take a small step back out of the character’s hesitation.

“You have a husband.” Owen mirrors my action.

“You’re my doctor-” I cross my arms across my chest, but release my right hand to gesture to Owen standing in front of me.

“You’ve got a baby coming-” He uses both hands to gesture back to me in my ‘pregnant’ state.

“It’s a bad idea, me and you,” the two of us turn slightly away from facing one another in false bashfulness. When the music picks up, the two of us avidly step toward one another to come together. In perfect synchronization, I grab Owen’s forearms and his hands face upwards to hold onto my elbows.

“Let’s just keep kissing ‘til we come to.”

“Heart, stop racing, let’s face it-” Owen pivots his step out to the side to face forward, extending his right arm which cues me to turn into him and take his other hand to spin out.

“Making mistakes like this will make worse what is already pretty bad.” Then he extends his right arm forward, and I turn into him once again.

“Mind, stop running. It’s time we just let this thing go.” Instead of spinning out again, I stop in front of him where he wraps both of his arms around me.

“It was a pretty good bad idea,” in our harmony I cast my gaze upward to see Owen staring right back down at me, and I feel like I’m seeing stars, “Wasn’t it though?”

The two of us continue dancing and singing with one another as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s only the two of us, here and now. The other girls in the room don’t miss the way I seem to smile like never before, and I sure as hell don’t miss the way my stomach fills with butterflies. When he holds me so close and dear for each intimate moment of the song, I’m seeing stars. A bold happiness consumes me, the same happiness I felt when Owen and I laughed over lunch in that small pizzeria.

The final harmony draws the song to a close and when it finishes, the two of us fall into a breathless kind of laughter.

“I didn’t take a big enough breath for that last part.”

“Me neither.”

“Your hair stayed intact.”

“I must have a pretty good stylist.”

After recovering from our laughter the two of us wind up in a palpable stupor as we stare into one another’s eyes. A few blinks and my trance is broken, I become aware of our surroundings.

“I should get dressed soon, and you definitely need to get dressed.” Owen nods still somewhat breathless.

“Yeah. See you later for pulse?”

“Save me a spot,” I joke as he backs out of the threshold of our dressing room. Leaning against the doorframe I watch him disappear into his assigned dressing room with a small smile still lingering on my features.

“Just getting to know each other my ass!”

“What the heck was that?”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to wingman you?”

“Do you even need a wingman after something like that?”

Turning on my heel, I face the bunch of insatiable dancers and shake my head in disbelief.

“We were just acting, you guys.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe you were acting, but he sure as hell wasn’t. Did you see the way he was looking at you? He is totally in love with you.” Ella shakes me by my shoulders.

“He’s just a really good performer is all.”

“When is your next date?” she completely ignores me.

“Okay-”

“Oh, and I want to be the maid of honor at your wedding-”

“It was just a song, Ella.”

“-Oh my god you guys are gonna have the cutest kids! I mean, your hair with his eyes and cheekbones? Ahh! The cutest.”

***

A/n: the way that being on tour isn’t the most unrealistic part of this fic, but instead Owen actually knowing the lyrics is? Work diva.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayenneferburnham​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul��� @celestialmolina​ @lilyjoyner​ 

[laurenairay]

2) “You’ve been avoiding me, why?” with Jacob Markstrom please!🖤

Here you go @danglesnipecelly – thank you for letting me borrow your man! 😘

This is the last of my prompt list blurbs so I hope you’ve all enjoyed them!

“You’ve been avoiding me, why?”

*

Drinking always had repercussions. You knew that, not even because you were no longer young and naïve. Sure, your tolerance had gotten better over the years, but the amount of time you went out partying had decreased in turn, so it all balanced out. And by that, it means that casual drinks were absolutely fine, but one big night out would knock you off your feet.

And now, one of your newest friendships was suffering because of your dumb actions.

Three weeks ago was Elias’s birthday. Annica had invited you as you were one of their neighbours and you’d grown quite close with her over the past couple of years since she and Elias had moved to Calgary. Through them, you’d met Jacob this year…and you knew the moment that you saw him that you were in trouble. No-one should be that tall, that handsome, and that sweet – it just wasn’t fair. Luckily you’d managed to keep your heart eyes to yourself (although you had a feeling that Annica had her suspicions) as well as keeping your cool around him…until the party three weeks ago.

You’d managed to make excuses to avoid group gatherings, only meeting with Annica when it was just the two of you, but she had begged you to come to the casual party Elias was throwing at their place tonight, and you hadn’t found it in your heart to tell her no, even though you were dreading facing the man you’d made a fool of yourself in front of.

It had only taken 30 minutes before you found yourself cornered by Jacob in the kitchen.

“Finally, I thought I’d never get you alone,”

You cursed under your breath before looking up at the Swedish giant with a nervous smile, making Jacob frown slightly, before his face smoothed out.

“You’ve been avoiding me, why?” Jacob asked softly.

Was there any point in lying?

Probably not.

It’s not like he didn’t know…

“Because I made an absolute tit out of myself last time I saw you?” you offered, smiling wearily.

Jacob laughed, making you wince, but he just shook his head.

“That’s why you’ve turned into a ghost? I thought I’d done something wrong!” Jacob mused.

Oh god no, that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“You were wonderful. It was me who was a dumb drunk mess,” you grumbled, face flaring with heat.

“You were not the drunkest person there – so far from it. And you weren’t a mess…you were cute,” he insisted.

Cute? No, he didn’t mean it like that. You sent him an unimpressed look but he just grinned back at you. Where to even start?

Even just thinking about the events of the night three weeks ago made you cringe so hard. The evening had started well, don’t get you wrong. You’d worn a cute flowery dress and put your hair up in a pretty braid, with a little light make-up to finish off the look. Annica had greeted you with a big hug and a large glass of white wine…and that’s where the night went downhill.

In short, you’d gotten absolutely smashed on white wine with Annica.

Wine drunk was a different level – while you knew that you definitely weren’t the only very drunk person that night, everything you’d done…ugh. Not okay.

“What do you remember from the night?” Jacob asked, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Everything, unfortunately,” you grumbled.

“It can’t all have been bad,” he teased.

Hah. That’s what he thought.

You admit, it started slowly. A bottle of wine shared between you and Annica got you started on karaoke (who brought the machine with them, you had no idea), with a whole queue of people continuing after you.

Then came the second bottle of wine – when you’d finished that, a lot of other people were drunk too. Elias himself was so drunk that he fell off the sofa laughing at something that Noah had said. And instead of helping him up, you and Annica had sat behind him and braided his hair, each of you having a spare hairband around your wrist to secure the two messy braids (and you were certain Jacob himself had taken a few photos of the braiding session).

You knew you’d eaten after then. And drank some water too. But that didn’t stop you from getting drunk-teary as Milan’s wife showed you the cutest new photos of her kids (they were just so cute!). Drunk-teary, like seriously. Thankfully you hadn’t full-on cried but that was bad enough. Annica had saved you from that…by dragging you into the kitchen and pouring you another glass of wine.

This devolved into the two of you going back and forth, telling each other you’re so pretty, no you’re so pretty, until Elias and Jacob stopped just watching in amusement and interrupted the love fest, with Elias taking Annica outside into the backyard for some fresh air, Jacob just getting you some more water.

As you recounted it all to Jacob, the smile on his face only grew.

“None of that was bad! I told you so – you were happy drunk and no-one thought bad of you, I promise,”

“I wish I could believe you,” you sighed.

“Anyone that remembered anything, which was very few people because vodka was flowing heavily, only thought it was cute and funny, I swear,” Jacob grinned.

The way that he kept insisting, the way that he kept repeating that you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, gave you a spark of hope. Maybe?

Then his face went serious, making your stomach fill with butterflies.

“And do you remember what you said to me?” Jacob asked softly.

You swallowed heavily. There it was. How could you not? It was why you’d been avoiding him.

“Yeah, I do,”

When he’d gotten you the water in the kitchen, you’d told him he was the most handsome man you’d ever met. With the biggest drunkest smile on your face. You wish you had Annica’s memory-loss bliss, but unfortunately the memory was seared into your brain. You could only thank your fairy godmother that instead of doing anything even more stupid, you’d just skipped off to find your friend afterwards.

But being here with him now, knowing in your gut that he remembered everything too, that gave you the heaviest feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“You said I was handsome. The most handsome guy you’d ever met,” he said.

Almost word for word. Wow. Fantastic. Just what you needed. Even just hearing the words said out loud again sent another hot rush of embarrassment flooding through your body, and it was all you could do not to shudder.

“Yeah I’m well aware. Can you just forget it, please?” you sighed.

But Jacob shook his head, confusing you. What? “Why would I want to forget?” he asked, frowning.

“Please, J, it’s embarrassing as hell and I’d like to still be able to show my face around here,” you pleaded.

Why was he being like this?

But then he stepped closer to you, impossibly closer, one hand rising to cup your face. You inhaled sharply as his thumb stroked over your cheekbone, unable to look away from his beautiful blue eyes.

“Why would I want to forget the most beautiful woman I know, telling me that I’m the most handsome guy?” he said seriously, towering over you in a way that took your breath away.

He…you…what?

“You can’t just say that,” you murmured, feeling helpless, but in no way that you wanted to be rescued.

“I mean it. I’m not just saying it either. I wish I told you sooner,” he said firmly.

“Jacob…” you whispered.

You trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did he mean it? Did he really mean it? Jacob saw the uncertainty mixing with hope on your face, and licked his bottom lip nervously. The thumb that had been stroking over your cheek brushed over your bottom lip, making you gasp.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

Even though the two of you were in public, in the open kitchen, it felt like you were in your own little world. You were completely consumed by him.

“Yes,” was all you could whisper in reply.

Jacob wasted no time in leaning his head down to press his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but whimper as he kissed you firmly, no hesitation, no nerves, just kissed you over and over and over until your head was spinning.

And then he broke away, making you gasp for breath, heart racing even more at the intensity in his eyes, the wet shine on his lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” he murmured.

You just clutched at his shirt, your knees feeling weak, words escaping you. He’s wanted to kiss you? Was this really happening? Jacob could see how overwhelmed you were, his eyes desperately searching yours for any sign of discomfort, but he found only surprise. So he took a deep breath to settle his nerves.

“Let me take you out on a date. Let me show you how beautiful I think you are,” Jacob asked softly, smiling hopefully.

The smile that spread across your lips felt ridiculous, but you couldn’t stop it. “I would love that,” you replied, smiling shyly.

Jacob just grinned before ducking his head to kiss you again, his hands travelling down your body to clutch at your waist as your hands slid up around his neck. This all felt like such a dream, a wonderful impossible dream. But there was no way you could’ve imagined the way his body felt pressing up against yours, or the way his tongue sent shivers down your spine. This was better than any fantasy, and you couldn’t wait to see how it played out.

[playboths]

@infernocte liked for a starter!

“You should’ve seen him when he first got me.” Things with Patrick were nice. At least, they used to be nice. He’s nearly forgotten what that’s like. But Bianca doesn’t know that things aren’t nice anymore, so he just grins and laughs like he’s joking.

[lipstick-seductress911]

Trying to pass the time

Waiting to see your face

Watching the sunrise climb

I wish this wasn’t the case

You used to be excited to see me

Reality sent me reeling

You want me to let you be

Shrugging off the glances you’re stealing

You never knew how much I fought for you

As you lay beside her in bed

Unknown to the hell you put me through

Every goodbye filled with dread

I turned to him when I had no option

A poor substitute to quell my sanity

Handfuls of pills with a strong concoction

Trying to pull away from your gravity

I tried my best to love another

Make it easier for both of us

To you all I did was smother

But what You did was treacherous

What’s worse is my memory

Red glowing of that exit sign

Remembering how I felt with your eyes on me

Fingertips tracing your spine

I remember us laughing

I remember us crying

I remember tongues clashing

I remember us lying

Envied how easy you made it seem

Just another chapter in your book

Maybe it was all just a dream

Another queue I may have mistook

Held on to anything tangible

Hoped I didn’t make believe

Leaving me behind became understandable

A love I could never hope to retrieve

The emotions that were all too consuming

I turned them off once you told me how you felt

my head and heart were left disputing

A hand I couldn’t afford to be dealt

My brain left me pacing

Thoughts left me feeling crazy

Can’t keep my heart from racing

Cigarette smoke kept my focus hazy

I wish I could pull back and push you away

Forget about your love and all the things that make you kind

I’d give almost anything to make you stay

I could never bring myself to leave you behind

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter One: The Edge of a Diving Board

Hello everyone!

So I haven’t used my Tumblr account in years, but I recently binge watched Alice in Borderland not too long ago and like any sane person, I realised that it was pretty darn amazing.. and that Chishiya was hands-down one of the best characters in the show.

 So while I'm still riding the AIB wave, I decided to dig out my old Tumblr and write something! 

This is just the first chapter, and you can find it here on AO3 too. To be honest, it’s probably better on AO3 because the formatting is a little funny on here. 

I’ve written it in first person, but avoided giving the main character a name, so it can either read as a Chishiya x OC or as a reader-insert depending on how you prefer :) 

Please let me know what you think, and if you do read it, thank you!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was David Foster Wallace who put it best. The world was one big queue leading up to a diving board. You took your place in line, climbed the rankings, and once you got to the top? The end. Process over. Because that’s how life really is: breathe, work, jump off the edge. You fulfil a function and then you’re gone forever.

At least, that’s how I’d always seen it. But the Borderlands changed all of that. Suddenly I was being pushed towards the edge of the diving board when I had thought I was still in the queue.

It happened all at once. I had been in an apartment, laughing over drinks with my brother and his friends. It was our first time in Japan, and we were only visiting for a four-day summer trip. I had only been allowed to go on the premise that he was there. Looking back now, I wish we had chosen Brussels or Amsterdam.

The last time I saw my brother, he was laughing with his friends as I closed the bathroom door behind me. I had turned to the sink, taking a moment to splash cool water on my face.

And that was when the lights went out.

‘Power cut’, I muttered, fumbling around for the door handle and re-entering the living room.

The apartment was dark and cold. I was alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tokyo almost looked beautiful without electricity at night, like a ghost city paused in time.

‘Hey!‘ I yelled through the empty streets. ‘誰か’ Anyone?

My Japanese was limited at best, but I had to try. I had to find someone. There was no way this could’ve been a prank. A whole population doesn’t just vanish into thin air, it’s simply not possible.

‘Hey, Is anyone there?’ I tried again.

As if on cue, a light cut through the darkness. I couldn’t help but squint at the large white screen projected across a desolate building. I couldn’t read any of the kanji, but there was one word that stood out clear as day.

GAME

What is this? I asked myself.

Suddenly, the screen changed, this time sporting an arrow pointing to the right. I tried to read the hiragana, but it seemed there was no need. Another light appeared in the distance, glowing ominously over the tops of buildings.

I guess I have to go that way, I thought. Perhaps there’s some kind of big event on and everyone’s gone to watch.

I made my way to the source of the light, which turned out to be an old furniture store. In this sea of darkness, it was as if the electricity had pooled entirely into one two-storey building.

There can’t be an event in a place like this. Where is everyone?

On a wall was a smaller sign with an arrow pointing into the store.

GAME – こちらです

Hesitantly, I followed the arrow up the steps leading to the door. Inside, the hallway was fully lit. The walls were decorated with mirrors and printed canvases, their price tags and sale stickers still attached. Passing beneath an arch that led into a large room, I heard a tiny bleep. It was almost inaudible, but I knew I hadn’t imagined it.

As I peered around, looking for the source of the noise, a voice spoke.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

I jumped, turning on my heels.

Leaning inconspicuously against a wall, a man was staring at me curiously. He was wearing a sleeveless grey top and looked to be in his thirties. He didn’t look like it, but perhaps he was the shop owner?

I stepped forward, intent on asking for help. However, I must’ve moved too quickly in my excitement, as my arm wavered, knocking a tiny vase with an artificial flower off a table.

It rolled across the ground, but before I could apologise and pick it up a neon red laser cut through the vase, leaving a singed hole in the plastic soil.

‘I told you not to do that,’ the man repeated, huffing.

I stared, wordless, at the destroyed flower. Lasers? What the hell kind of game was this?

‘Newbie, hm? This’ll be easy.’

It was a new voice this time. Another man, slightly younger, was reclining back in an armchair. I hadn’t noticed him until now as his green shirt blended into the furniture fabric.

‘A foreigner, too. How lucky,’ Green Shirt said.

My mind scrambled to piece together what Japanese it could.

‘すみません… 何がこれ？皆んながどこですか’ Excuse me, what is this? Where is everyone?

Green Shirt raised a brow, whereas the first man huffed once more.

‘It’s a game. You’ve just got to follow the rules.’ He gestured his thumb to a small side table where there were a several phones lined up. ‘You need to take one before registration closes.’

On second inspection, I noticed that they were both clasping phones tightly in their hands. Maybe this was part of the game? Approaching the table, I picked up a smart phone, finding that it sprung to life immediately with a face recognition screen.

‘FACE REGISTRATION IN PROCESS.

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE’

A timer on the screen began to tick down from two minutes. Around me, I could feel the two men watching my every move. They seemed to be sussing me out, although I couldn’t figure out what for. Surely, since everyone in Tokyo disappeared, we should all band together and find others.

‘REGISTRATION CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.’

This time, the voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once, as if through an invisible sound system. I looked around at the ceiling, trying to find the speakers, when I realised that at the back of the room all of the furniture had been moved aside to make way for a large circular table and four chairs. In the centre of the table was a stack of cards.

‘GAME – RUMMY

DIFFICULTY – FOUR OF DIAMONDS

TIME LIMIT – ONE HOUR’

Four of Diamonds?

I looked at the phone in my hand, where a picture of the aforementioned card flashed up. None of it made sense. And what did playing cards have to do with this?

The first man and Green Shirt both got up and made their way to the table at the back, leaving me no choice but to follow. They seemed to know what was going on better than I did. The three of us each took a seat, only I chose to a sit as far as possible from the other two. Judging from the deck in the middle of the table, we’d be playing a card game, and I didn’t want anybody close enough to see my hand.

The overhead voice continued.

‘RULES –

PLAYERS MUST COMPLETE A SINGLE GAME OF RUMMY.

THE OBJECTIVE IS TO CLEAR ALL CARDS FROM YOUR HAND. THE FIRST PLAYER TO CLEAR THEIR HAND IS THE WINNER.

THE DECK HAS ALREADY BEEN SHUFFLED.

PLAYERS MUST DESIGNATE ONE PERSON TO BE THE DEALER.

TURNS ARE TAKEN COUNTER-CLOCKWISE, FROM THE LEFT OF THE DEALER.

EACH PLAYER STARTS WITH SEVEN CARDS. AFTER THE CARDS HAVE BEEN DEALT, THE FIRST CARD IN THE DECK MUST BE TURNED OVER AND USED TO START A SEPARATE DISCARD PILE.

PLAYERS MUST ALWAYS DRAW ONE CARD FROM THE PILE, AND DISCARD ONE CARD PER TURN.

PLAYERS MAY PICK UP A CARD FROM THE DISCARD PILE, HOWEVER YOU CANNOT DISCARD THE SAME CARD IN THAT TURN.

PLAYERS MUST CREATE SEQUENCES OF THREE TO FOUR CARDS ARRANGED BY EITHER NUMBER OR SUITE. IF A SET OF THREE OR MORE CARDS IS CREATED, THE PLAYER MAY CHOOSE TO LAY IT DOWN IN FRONT OF THEM.

PLAYERS CAN ADD TO OTHERS’ SEQUENCES PROVIDED THEY HAVE BEEN LAID DOWN ON THE TABLE.

ACE MAY ONLY COUNT AS ONE.

JOKERS CAN BE USED IN PLACE OF ANY CARD.

CLEAR CONDITION – BE THE WINNER.’

Okay, I thought, mulling it over. Okay…

I hadn’t understood most of what the voice had said, but I could pick up enough that I figured it was just a game of standard Rummy. I had never played the game before, and I only knew of it through John Steinbeck’s characters. But I had played something similar, a card-melding game that my parents had taught me when I was a small child. I’d played it countless times, and I knew it like the back of my hand. Sure enough, these rules were slightly different, but it was still a card-melding game, all the same.

I looked up at the two men opposite me. They appeared confused, despite their attempts to hide it. Green Shirt gazed at me curiously, then smirked.

Oh…

‘A foreigner, too? How lucky.’

His previous words rang in my memory. Judging by the way the two men were looking at me, they were both counting on my inability to understand the rules. They were assuming I had no idea how to play, or even what rules were just read out. And yet, the brief glimpses of confusion in their expressions told me everything: they had never played a card-melding game before.

So they’ve already decided that they have the advantage?

I tried not to smile.

‘Do you know how to play?’ the first man asked me.

I paused, considering how I should answer. I didn’t know exactly what the stakes were, but judging by the laser I had just seen, losing the game couldn’t be good. In any case, I decided to keep my cards close to my chest.

‘このガームは知らない.’ I’ve never heard of this game before.

I was aware that my Japanese probably sounded like it came straight from a textbook, but in this situation, I couldn’t care less.

The first man nodded. He looked at Green Shirt, and said, ���I’ll be the dealer then, if that’s okay?’

Green Shirt just shrugged and sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Hurry up then. The clock’s ticking.’

Sure enough, my phone displayed a timer which read 57 minutes. I didn’t want to find out what happened if we didn’t have a clear winner by the time it hit zero.

The first man picked up the deck, dishing out seven cards each before returning the stack to the centre. He took the first card and turned it over on the table, beginning the discard pile. Picking up a card from the deck, the first man began his turn.

I didn’t pay attention to what he was doing, as I needed to focus on the cards currently in my hand.

King of Spades

Three of Hearts

King of Diamonds

Five of Clubs

Ace of Hearts

Nine of Diamonds

Eight of Clubs

It wasn’t bad. Or at least, it could’ve been a lot worse. The two kings stuck out immediately as a potential meld. I could certainly build around them. However, another thought came to mind. If Rummy was anything like the game I had learned as a child, it meant that players could add to each other’s melds once they were on the table. In that case, I would have to avoid creating sets of consecutive numbers within the same suite, as a three-card combination in this kind of meld would leave two openings for the others to get rid of their cards, rather than just the one.

Glancing up, I noticed it was Green Shirt’s turn, promptly ended as he threw an Ace of Spades into the discard pile.

That meant it was my turn next.

I eyed the Ace he just discarded and remembered hearing the overhead voice say something about Aces. But there was no time to think about it; the other two were watching me closely and waiting for me to pick up a card.

I reached out to the deck.

Seven of Diamonds.

Technically I could’ve used it in conjunction with my nine, but it was too risky. I didn’t have time to wait around in hopes of picking up an Eight of Diamonds. Plus, I’d already decided against consecutive sets.

I tossed it into the discard pile.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The game continued for longer than I would’ve liked it to. The clock was ticking, ticking, ticking, and now read 17 minutes.

So far, my hand had started to come together.

King of Spades

King of Diamonds

King of Hearts

Nine of Diamonds

Nine of Spades

Five of Clubs

Ace of Hearts

I could’ve laid down my kings on the table. But there was only three cards in the meld, meaning one of the others could add the remaining king from their own hand. Across from me, neither of the other two had laid down any cards, and until they did, I couldn’t add anything to their melds either.

Green Shirt then took his turn and picked up a card. He glanced once at me, then threw a Nine of Diamonds onto the discard pile.

I must’ve regarded it a second too long because Green Shirt then spoke up.

‘You’re collecting Diamonds, aren’t you?’

I tried not to smile.

‘どうして知っているのですか’ I asked, playing along. How did you know that?

‘Because you always stare at the cards whenever I discard a Diamonds one.’

He must’ve gotten the wrong end of the stick, because whenever he discarded a Diamonds card, my heart sank. The last thing I needed was a Diamonds card.

‘I’ll try and keep a poker face from now on,’ I muttered.

Green Shirt frowned in response and checked the timer on his phone.

Nine minutes.

Nine minutes until game over.

That’s 540 seconds I had to land a good card.

Come on, I thought. Please be a nine. Please be a nine.

I picked up a card from the deck. It was a Two of Spades. I discarded it immediately.

In the back of my mind, I was starting to panic. Judging by this whole setup, we were playing for our lives. After all, what kind of game would have an invisible barrier that kills those who try to back out?

The first man threw away a Six of Clubs. Green Shirt stared at it and scowled. He must’ve been looking for extra cards to add to his meld on the table.  

By now, the two men were starting to become antsy. The first man kept scratching his eyebrow, whereas Green Shirt kept dragging his nails on the table in impatience.

He picked up a card from the deck, then grinned from ear to ear. He proudly lay down a consecutive suite consisting of the Seven and Six of Clubs and a Joker used to represent a five.  

Carelessly, he tossed down a Nine of Clubs.

My heart jumped, and adrenaline shot through me.

He still thinks I’m collecting Diamonds. That’s why he tossed it.

My hand shot out and snatched up the card from the pile before Green Shirt could figure out his mistake. And figure it out, he did, because his eyes widened slightly.

I looked at him squarely.

‘I have something to confess,’ I said in English. ‘I lied. I’m not collecting Diamonds.’

Green Shirt’s smile dropped. He didn’t understand, but he would soon enough. The thing about Jokers is that they’re always a double-edged sword.

Laying down my new trio of nines, I reached over to Green Shirt’s meld and inserted my Five of Clubs, swiping his Joker for myself.

He made a noise of protest, whereas the first man watched on with disbelief, as if hoping that his intuition was wrong.

I added the Joker to my two Kings, creating a new meld which I down on the table.

Their faces told all. They had no idea that Jokers could be swapped. Even though I hadn’t understood the rules outlined at the beginning, it was evident that this was a rule that hadn’t been mentioned.

Watching them shake their heads, wide eyed… it was like watching a penny drop.

‘ごめんなさい,’ I said.

I’m sorry.

I threw the Ace of Hearts onto the discard pile.

The two men shot out of their seats, yelling frantically. I tried to tear my eyes away, but couldn’t, as two lasers pierced through the ceiling and struck them where they stood.

The two bodies crumpled to the ground, and all was still.

‘GAME CLEAR – CONGRATULATIONS!’

I don’t know how long I remained seated in my chair, but I felt that if I moved, I would collapse too. Swallowing, I took two fingers and pressed them to my jugular, feeling for my pulse.

I had won. I was still alive.

I was still here.

The phone on the table beside me flashed with a message. According to this game, I had a four-day visa, whatever that meant.

It didn’t matter though, all I needed right now was to sleep.

Rising unsteadily, I cautiously approached the where the invisible barrier had been. For all I knew it was a one-way system, and I didn’t want to make a stupid mistake after all my effort in the Rummy game. So, as a test, I picked up a tiny vase and threw it across the entrance.

Nothing.

It was like the lasers had just disappeared altogether.

Tentatively reaching my fingers through, I deemed it safe, and made my way back down the hall to the store entrance. I didn’t know where to go, or how to live in a world like this, but if books and movies had taught me anything, I needed to make some kind of camp, perhaps even head to a food store to collect some supplies –

I stopped.

On a small side table near the entrance doors, a card lay facing up. The Four of Diamonds. The same Four of Diamonds that had flashed on the screen on my phone. The game’s difficulty.

But when did it get here? Perhaps someone had come by whilst I was still playing.

Shrugging, I pocketed it and stepped outside into the ghostly darkness of Tokyo. Behind me, the electricity in the furniture store shut off completely.

Whatever kind of games these were, I had a feeling they were only just getting started.

[forever-rogue]

Hi darling. I would like to request Frankie being overprotective when reader is sick. I have headache rn and I would like to see how our cutie boy can handle it. Thank you 🤩

I love the idea of an overprotective Frankie 🥺 He would be such a good caregiver.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You set the warm kettle back down as you finished pouring the steaming water into your mug. Spying your favorite tea in the cabinet, you grabbed and opened it fishing out one of the last teabags. You'd have to get more when you went to the store next time. You loathed running out of it, especially now that colder months were starting.

"What are you doing?" Frankie caught you completely off guard as he came back into the kitchen, canvas totes in each hand, filled with fresh groceries. You had dropped the tea in surprise but offered him a sheepish look as he came over and set the bags on the counter, "Honey Bee, you should be in bed."

"I know," you managed to croak out, your throat still dry and scratchy. You'd come down with a harsh cold, which had caused you to have stay home from work and rest. Frankie, the ever doting boyfriend, had taken on the role of caregiver rather well, and had been waiting on you hand and foot, trying to help you to feel better. You hated depending on someone else for everything, but this cold had really knocked you down and out, "I didn't know when you'd be back and really wanted some tea. I can do some things myself."

"I know," he agreed, taking the bag and dipping into the mug for you, adding just a bit of honey like he knew you enjoyed. His hand found your cheek as he stroked your skin delicately before placing a kiss to your forehead, "but its okay to let me help you out. You always do it for me. But come, let's get you back to bed."

"Are you sure?" you asked quietly, "I can help put away groceries and stuff. At least let me help that much..."

"Absolutely not, out of the question," he insisted fervently, wrapping an arm your waist and holding your tea in the other as he led you back to bed. You didn't even bother to argue with him, knowing there was no point.

Setting down your tea on the bedside table, next to a picture of the two of you that you loved, he pulled back the covers and ushered you under them. It was like the universe was on his side because as soon as your head hit the pillows, you were heavy with sleep again. Sniffling a yawn, you offered your love a soft smile, "thank you, Frankie. You're the best and I love you more than words could describe."

"I love you too," he promised softly, "now just rest. But if you need anything, call me. I'm going to and make some soup, okay? After that I'll draw you a bath, if you would like."

"I don't deserve you," it was a wistful sigh as you snuggled into the blankets and he offered you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Of course you do," he promised gently, "you deserve the world. Now rest, and if you need anything-"

"I'll call for you," you confirmed with a sleepy grin. He nodded before leaving the room closing the door ever so slightly.

He'd gone to the grocery store early that morning in order to get everything for homemade chicken noodle soup. It was his Abuela's recipe and he swore by it, sure if he had helped him through many colds in the past.

Frankie hated seeing you sick, knowing how independent you were and much you despised relying on the help of others. But he wasn't about to let you handle things on your own either. He had a feeling you'd be okay and feeling much better after the soup anyways, and surely you'd he right as rain in a few days.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When stirred from slumber again, the sun was setting and casting the room in a soft, pinkish orange glow. You stretched and yawned and almost as if on queue, Frankie popped his head into the room.

"Hi baby," he said softly as he came over to you, his hand going to your forehead to set check for any signs of fever, "how are you feeling?"

"Better, I think," you admitted, the tired heaviness of your aching body feeling ever so slightly relieved, "I must have been out for hours."

"You were," he confirmed, "but you need to listen to your body as well and right now your body needs the rest."

"Apparently so," you agreed as you pushed back the blankets, "is that your Abuela's soup I smell?"

"Indeed it is," he grinned at you, "it can work miracles after all. It just needs to finish simmering for a while and it will he ready soon. I made some bread to go with it too."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Francisco. Thank you for taking such good care of me," you beamed as you ran a hand through his dark locks.

"Like I said, you do the same for me," he said gently, "and I love you. Now, what do you say about a bath?"

"Are you saying I stink?!" you joked as he leaned in and pretended to smell you. He jerked back and scrunched up his nose as you glared at him.

"Very stinky, baby," he almost giggled with laughter, "definitely time for a bathroom. You smell like honey and vaporub."

"Jerk," you teased as you slid your legs out of the bed in order to head to the bathroom. But Frankie was quicker and easily scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the ensuite bathroom, "ahh, what a prince my love is."

"Nah," he teased, "don't get used to it."

But you already were. Because Frankie was like this all the time, treating you like you were the only thing that mattered, because in a lot of ways to him, you were. But you loved and adored him with just as much reverent devotion.

Frankie gently set you back down before turning on the water, fiddling with the taps for a moment to get the temperature just before dropping in some of your favorite bubble bath. Stripping off your pajamas, you quickly stepped into the water, sinking down and letting the rising water start to envelope you. A small groan of pleasure left your lips as Frankie sat down the floor next to you, resting his arms atop the edge and watching you closely.

"What?" you asked as you grabbed a few bubbles and placed them on the tip of his nose, "never seen a pathetic sickling take a bath before?"

"Shush," he said as you blew some bubbles right back at you, "you are always beautiful, no matter what you look like or how you feel."

"Mhmm," you replied as you leaned back and closed your eyes, "whatever you say, mi amor."

"Exactly," he insisted, "do you want me to wash your hair?"

Your eyes opened as a little grin crossed your features. There were few things you loved more than the feeling of getting your hair washed, especially by Frankie. He often took it upon himself when the two of you showed together.

"Really?" you asked as he nodded, "I would love nothing more. My body is still tired and sore, and if I'm being quite honest, it's never as good as when you do it."

"Ahh, I've spoiled you too much already."

"Indeed, you truly have," you agreed.

"I'm joking-"

"I'm not," you promised, taking his face in your hands and staring into those soft, deep chocolate eyes, "I mean it, Francisco. I love you more than anything. You make me so happy."

"You do too," he promised, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "now come, let me help you wash up and then we'll have dinner."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Okay," you said, swallowing a hearty bite of bread and soup, "it's official. Your Abuela is a miracle worker and whatever secret ingredients she puts in the soup are magic."

"I know," he grinned at you, as he took your bowl and laddled some more soup into it, "one day you might even learn the secret ingredients. But she has to give permission first."

"Oh?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as you eagerly took the second helping, "and how does one go about getting permission?"

"Gotta be part of the family-"

"I am part of the family," you insisted, knowing full well it was true. His family, including his Abuela, adored you and always considered you to be one of them.

"I know," he agreed, a flush of pink rising in his cheeks, "but she means family family. Like we gotta get married."

"Ohh," your eyes widened as you stared at your soup, "maybe...maybe one day."

"Obviously," his response was sure, but nonchalant that your head snapped in his direction as he looked back at you with a simple shrug. You'd talked about marriage before, more or less in passing, but you'd never given it that much thought before. You figured if it was meant to happen, it would happen eventually, "what?"

"You want to get married?" you asked shyly as he gave you a surprised look.

"Of course," he beamed, "I'm going to marry the hell out of you. Don't you worry, Honey Bee, its going to happen. When you least expect it, but it will happen."

Frankie was just was just waiting for the opportune moment to pop the question. He'd had the ring for months, carefully hidden away as he tried to plan the perfect moment. Hell, he was half tempted to grab it and do it now. Despite still being sick and tired and run down, you looked as beautiful as ever. The soft expression on your face was enough to make his heart melt.

"Well..." you trailed off, staring at your soup and barely able to contain your smile, "I...I look forward to it. Just, you know, so I can get your Abuela's recipes."

Frankie snorted with laughter as he shook his head and reached over to wipe a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

"You must be feeling better if you're giving me this much sass," he stated as you nodded in agreement.

"Its the soup..." you said as you brought the bowl to your lips and downed the rest of it, "and the amazing care from my Frankie. Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me," he promised, getting up to clear away the dishes, "now, what do you say to a movie? If you're up for it? We'll get under the covers, you can rest, and I'll even let you pick the movie."

"Deal," you eagerly agreed, "I make no promises to stay awake but I will try."

"Perfect," he busied himself with the kettle on the stove, "now get back into bed, turn on Netflix, and I'll be there in a few minutes with tea."

"And honey?"

"Only the finest for my Honey Bee," he promised, waving the bottle at you.

"I love you, Frankie," you said softly, "truly."

"And I love you," he shot you a quick wink, "now get into bed and I'll be right there."

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

The Interview: Part One

Title: The Interview - A Luke x Reader One Shot

Words: 3,177

Summary: Y/N gets to interview Sunset Curve when they finally go on tour near where she lives.

TW: None

Author’s notes: Ok… the interview part is kind of inspired by a glorious evening when myself and a friend got to interview our favourite band just before a gig. I was much clumsier that Y/N and made a complete fool of myself on more than one occasion, but it seemed to have worked because they loved the interview – or so they told us.

I hope you like it. I’m not 100% with it, but didn’t want to drag it out for the hell of it. This is set in the UK, so spellings may be a little different.

(credit @nikascott​)

The first time you heard Now or Never, you knew there was something special about Sunset Curve. Their lyrics and the beats of their pop rock tracks made you feel amazing and you couldn’t help but dance every time you heard them.

You spent all your time online anyway, so you decided to set up a Sunset Curve fan account. You didn’t expect much to come out of it due to bein in the UK while they were based in the US. But you religiously shared photos of the guys, wrote funny articles about them after speaking to people who’d been to their shows. Shared credited photos from gigs which soon got you respect from the fans and you began to build up a following.

You managed to fit running the account single handed, fitting it in between being at university studying for your degree in media and working part time. You’re not in it for the recognition, you just want to show your appreciation for a band you love.

Your best friend, Carrie, doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how you can spend so much time expelling energy on four guys you’re never going to meet, but she indulges you because you also run one for her band, Dirty Candi. Your friend and the rest of her group are insanely talented, and even though they’re not a genre you tend to listen to, you support them because that’s what friends do.

It’s been a year since you’d first heard Now or Never and since you set up the account. You’ve amassed over ten thousand followers, most of whom are also in the UK, when you get your first band member follow. Bobby Wilson, the rhythm guitarist likes a post you shared about him and promptly follows you. You get constant likes from him and sometimes the odd comment. Your followers go insane but you manage to keep calm, ish.

The second follow is Alex, the drummer. This time you do go a bit crazy, because he’s adorable and you can’t help be a little in love with him.

It takes less than a day after Alex’s follow before the bassist, Reggie to follow you and send your notifications into overdrive by commenting on a ton of posts. You scream into a pillow on your bed because it’s 2 a.m. and you don’t want to wake Carrie up.

The one follow you’re waiting for doesn’t come. Luke Patterson, the lead singer and your favourite member hasn’t joined his bandmates, and while you never expected it, you’re more than a little upset by the fact.

“Honey, he’s like a Rockstar. He’s got more important things to do than follow fan accounts online.” Carrie was right, but it still stung a bit.

“I know, but…”

“Y/N, sweetie. I adore you, but you need to let it go. I don’t want you working yourself up over this, please. Why don’t we have a girlie night, just the two of us? We’ll watch cheesy films, eat junk food, and sing bad karaoke. No phones.”

“I love you, do you know that?” I told her.

“How could you not?” She flicked her pastel pink hair over her shoulder with a laugh before going to prepare snacks while I got the lounge ready for an evening of lazing around.

:: ::

Halfway through The Greatest Showman, Carrie falls asleep, so after you cover her over with a blanket, you pull your phone out of the box she hid it in and scroll through social media.

         |Hey, @SunsetCurveFansUK did you see this??

Included in the message is a link to the official Sunset Curve account. You click on it and there’s a note from the band. Announcing a UK tour. You begin to hyperventilate as you try and prevent yourself from screaming out loud, but it doesn’t work and you let out a loud squeak, waking Carrie up.

“What’s wrong? Y/N, are you okay?” She sounds worried, so you shove your phone at her, unable to speak. “Oh, wow. This is cool. Start saving because I know you’re gonna want to go to every show.”

“Yes, yes I will.” Getting to your feet, you do a crazy dance around the small lounge of your apartment, making Carrie laugh. You only realise at the last minute that she’s recording you. “Don’t you dare post that online.” You warn her.

“Too late, sweetie. It’s already on my story and I tagged the band.”

“I hate you. Worst friend ever, I think I’ll advertise for a new one.” You grumble, making her laugh as you settle down on the couch to catch up on everything you’ve missed online.

:: ::

When tickets go on sale, you’re disappointed they guys are only doing four dates in the UK, but you buy yourself a ticket to all of them. Sadly, they don’t offer up any VIP tickets because they’re running contests for fans to win them for each show. Their tour manager, Trevor – who also happens to Bobby’s dad – has messaged your account asking if you’d like the opportunity to interview the band as a thank you for all the work you’d put into promoting them.

“Oh my God, Y/N. You’re gonna meet the band, your favourite band.” Carrie is grinning, happy for you as you stare at the message on your phone screen in disbelief. “Are you going to reply?”

“I… er… what is going on?” You stare over at your best friend who’s grinning widely at you. “This is a joke, right? Someone’s pulling the ultimate prank on me, aren’t they?”

“Y/N, look. For over a year, you’ve been pimping out those guys like crazy. You’ve increased their fan base here, which has made them want to tour here, and now they’re offering you this amazing opportunity. Take it and run with it, You deserve it.”

At her words, you reopen the message and reply to Trevor, saying you’d be honoured to do the interview. Then you freak out.

:: ::

The night of the first show and you’re hovering outside the venue waiting for Trevor to come and meet you once the guys finish their sound check. You can faintly hear the strains of Now or Never, and you get goosebumps. Thankful you’re nowhere near where the queue to get in is growing longer and longer, you start to pace outside the door. It suddenly opens outwards, making you jump, and Trevor’s head appears before behind it.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi.” You hold out a hand for him to shake, surprising him and yourself with how composed your voice sounds. He shakes your hand and then motions for you to enter the venue.

“Great to meet you. The guys all love your account.”

“That’s amazing to hear.” You make conversation as you follow Trevor through a maze of narrow corridors.

“Are you ready?” He asks as you approach a closed door. You can’t help but hesitate, making him look back at you in worry. “Hey, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all just a bit… overwhelming.”

“Look, they’re great guys, as normal as they come. There’s no need to feel nervous around them.” He smiles at you and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to enter. “Guys, this is Y/N from the UK fan account. Go easy on her, okay?” Once you’re fully inside the room, Trevor leaves and closes the door behind you.

“Hey,” Reggie speaks first as they all stand up. You shake hands and instantly feel at ease. “We all love your account, it’s very honest.” He’s clearly referring to your review of their last album where you openly said you weren’t a huge fan of a couple of the songs. It was an integrity you were determined to have on the account. You didn’t want to be seen as the type to blow smoke up their asses just because you were a fan.

“Thanks. I love running it. It keeps me busy and out of trouble, apparently.” You laugh as you pull a fold-up tripod out of your bag and set it up to record the guys for your account. “Do you mind if I film the interview?”

“Go ahead.” Alex waves his hand for you to continue. Once you’re set up, you pull out your journal with your questions written in.

“Hey, Luke. That looks like your journal.” Bobby comments, making the lead singer smile. So far, he hasn’t said much and it’s putting you on edge. Especially as he’s the only band member who hasn’t followed your account. Maybe he hates what you’ve done online. Trying to ignore the doubt, you press record on the video and start to ask the questions.

“My final two questions were submitted as part of a contest I put out to my followers. First up from Ellie is ‘if you could give the others a tattoo, what would it be and where?” As you’d hoped, the response to this question is all four of them bursting into laughter as Reggie’s face lights up.

“I pick Luke and would definitely get my face across his back.” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Maybe if I get him drunk enough, I could at least get my name somewhere.

“Dude, there is no way I will ever have your name, any of your names, tattooed on me.” Luke grinned at them. “I’d probably get Bobby a dick, on his forehead. Just because it would be hilarious.”

You know Bobby is known as a bit of a womaniser and you’ve heard rumblings in the fandom that he’s slept with fans after shows, but you keep quiet as the guys laugh. Bobby picks a rainbow for Alex and Alex picks a cowboy hat for Reggie.

“Okay, the final question is from Sarah and her son Henry. ‘If the zombie apocalypse hit, who would be the first to die.”

“Reggie.” Three out of the four spoke in unison making the bassist pout and you laugh.

“But, we’d try our best to save him.” Alex pipes up, smiling at his friend. “We’d at least try to stick together, but if it’s a choice between me and them, I’m picking me every time.”

“That’s me finished,” you stop the recording. “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to sit with me. I really appreciate it.”

All four guys reassure you it’s been their pleasure and that they enjoyed the interview which pleases you as it took you almost six weeks to think of questions that they hadn’t been asked hundreds of times before.

“I’ll leave you guys to get ready for the show. I need a drink.” You stand after packing everything away and move toward the door to leave.

“Hey, Y/N.” Reggie’s voice calling your name makes you turn back to face them. “We put together a little goodie bag of merch for you as a thank you for all the work you’ve done in helping promote us here in the UK.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do that.” You’re blown away and speechless. “I do it because I enjoy it.”

“And it keeps you out of trouble?” Bobby winks at you. Unsure how to react, you smile a little, positive it looks more like a grimace. You take the overflowing bag and clutch it in your hand.

“Hey, we need a selfie.” Alex says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You suddenly find yourself between him and Luke, Alex’s arm slung over your shoulder and Luke’s hand resting on your waist. All you can feel is the head from his hand as you look at the camera Alex is holding out in front of you. Once he’s done, you take a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of Luke before stepping away.

Another round of thank yous and you leave the room and close the door behind you. Then realise you have no idea which way to go.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke’s voice makes you jump.

“Yeah, I just can’t remember the way out.” You’re embarrassed to admit, but you have to meet up with Carrie in the queue. She’d finally agreed to come to at least one of the shows with you, but only one.

“It’s a bit of a maze, here’ I’ll show you the way.” Luke falls into step beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in the narrow space.

“Thanks, you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s no problem, I’m on a drink run for the guys anyway, and the bar’s this way.” He shrugged, his shoulder once again brushing against yours.

“Well, thanks again. And for doing the interview, I hope it wasn’t too much of a chore.”

“Nah, it was fun. I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what it was gonna be like at first, but you had some great questions.”

Silence fell and you start to feel awkward walking through the venue with a guy you’d crushed on from afar for well over a year. Eventually, the maze of corridors opened out into an area you recognised.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, at the show I mean.” You feel like a complete idiot.

“Yeah, it should be a great show.” You give Luke a small wave and make your way towards the door where a member of the security gets ready to let you out.

“Y/N?” Luke calls out. You turn to look at him. “Do you want a drink?”

Stunned, you kind of freeze to the spot you’re standing in. After a moment, Luke mumbles something and turns to walk away.

“That would be great.” You call out, knowing Carrie would kill you if you said no. You return to Luke’s side and follow him into the space that would soon be filled with fans. The stage was set up with their instruments and you can’t help the shiver of excitement that goes through you.

“Are you cold?” Luke asks.

“No, I just had a chill.” Before you finish speaking, he’s pulled off the flannel shirt he’s wearing and handing it to you. “Honestly, there’s no need. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N, take the damn shirt. It’s cold in here and you’re in a tank top.” He insists with a laugh.

“God, you’re pushy.” You snap at him playfully as you take the shirt and slide it on. It’s still warm from him wearing it and you resist the urge to bury your nose in it.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Just a beer is fine.” You pull some money out of your purse, but he waves it away as he hands over a card to the bartender.

As you take a sip of cold beer, your phone chirps with Carrie’s ringtone.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” You pull your phone out as Luke asks the bar tender to take three of the bottles to the rest of the band. “Hello?”

“Where are you? The doors are opening soon.” Carrie’s voice is almost drown out by the noise around her.

“I’m just finishing up, I’ll be out soon.”

“Was Luke as dreamy as-”

“I’ll be out as soon as I can. Bye.” You cut her off, worried Luke will hear her question and shove your phone away again. “Sorry, my friend’s in the queue. I really should get out there.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” You go to put your almost full bottle of beer on the bar. “Take that with you. You can’t waste good beer.” You laugh and slide the bottle into the sleeve of Luke’s shirt to hide it from the security staff as the two of you walk over to the door. “Hey, it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” The two of you lock eyes for a few minutes before you remember Carrie. “I… I better go. Break a leg tonight.”

Before he can answer, you’re outside with the door slamming closed behind you. You take a deep breath to try and calm your racing heart as you walk around the building to find Carrie.

:: ::

“Where did that come from?” She asks, pointing to the shirt, as soon as you join her. You look around to make sure no one’s listening. You don’t want to be overheard.

“It’s Luke’s.” You whisper, laughing as her eyes widen in shock. Even more when you pull the bottle of beer out from the sleeve and take a long drink from it.

“When we get inside, you are telling me everything. But especially how you came out of an interview with the lead singer’s clothes on.”

Before you can answer, a cheer goes up near the front of the queue as the doors open and security begin letting the fans in.

Slowly, as tickets are checked, the queue moves forward and you’re finally at the front. The security guy recognises you and gives you a smile as he lets you and Carrie inside.

The first stop is the cloakroom so you can check in your bag and the goodie bag the guys gave you after the interview. Then Carrie drags you to the bar and starts pumping you for answers.

“How did the interview go? What took so long? Why did you come out wearing Luke’s shirt and carrying a beer?”

“Woah, slow down.” You order a couple of shots for the two of you from the bartender who served Luke earlier. He waves away your money, explaining you’ve been added to the bar tab the guys have running to your surprise and Carrie’s giggles. “The interview went really well. The guys responded so well to my questions and I took a selfie with them. Oh, shit. The photo’s on Alex’s phone.”

“Oh, really?” Carrie raises an eyebrow at you.

“Do you want me to tell you or not?” You move away from the bar so no one can overhear you. When you’re certain you have some privacy, you fill her in on what happened after the interview ended.

“Holy shit, Y/N/ I think you’re in with a chance there.”

“Carrie, no. He’s a bonafide Rockstar, who lives like thousands of miles away. I’m a student from London. Don’t get carried away. He was just being friendly.”

“Oh, sure. Because all rockstars offer their shirts to fans and buy them a beer.” She looks at you, a weird look in her eye as she orders another round of drinks. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Trevor the tour manager walking toward you.

“Hey, Y/N. I was asked to give you this.” He hands you a slip of paper before melting away through the crowd toward the stage.

“What is it?” Carrie askes as you unfold it. Written in the hardest writing you’ve ever had to decipher is,

Meet me backstage after the show? Luke.

You don’t know what to think, but Carrie crows like a damn rooster, attracting attention from other fans around you.

“Just being friendly, huh?” She hip bumps you, “I’m coming with you to the other shows, I need to see this unfold with my very own eyes.

Read Part Two here

[http-hnigrm]

I was tagged by @hannibalhadalittlelamb to answer these questions! [tyty <3 :]

1. why did you choose your url?:

“http-“ is the beginning of all my side blogs & my main blog :,) it’s j kinda my little thing I do <3 as for hnigrm…. @/http-hannigram was already taken ;__; </3

2. any side blogs?:

so many… so many… they’re kinda cringe tho and I don’t really use them… this is the only side blog I use with any regularity! (even more than my main tbh…)

3. how long have you been on tumblr?:

Just shy of 8 years? damn. makes me feel old as hell ;__; but in actuality I was j on the internet way too young :,)

4. do you have a queue tag?:

not on this blog :,) I can’t be bothered it do it tbh… I put everything in my drafts to sit until I feel like posting it, but no queue :3

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?:

I make a side blog for all my hyperfixations :3 I will admit that I put much more effort into this blog than any others… I j knew when I was watching hannibal for the first time that I would be stuck on it for a very long time afterwards

6. why did you choose your icon?:

hottest picture I’ve ever seen. :,) I thought about changing it recently to my Instagram pfp, but I couldn’t get rid of this photo ;__;

7. why did you choose your header?:

my phone theme is like Hannibal/mind palace ish so I have paintings that remind me of Hannibal/hannigram as my widgets! So I thought Achilles Lamenting the Death of Patroclus was fitting for my silly little blog

8. what's your post with the most notes?:

definitely my “I never feel guilty eating anything” post! kinda silly bc it was one of my least favorites but everyone here seemed to like it! I appreciate the love it got <3

9. how many mutuals do you have?:

on here, probably like 10? on my main I have closer to 35 :)

10. how many followers do you have?:

209! holding u all tenderly in my hands <3

11. how many ppl do you follow?:

My main blog says 1897, but Hannibal centric blogs I’d say around 60?

12. have vou ever made a shitpost?:

I’m not convinced all of my posts aren’t shitposts :,)

13. how many times do you use tumblr a day?:

I fully log on at least once (unless I’m taking a conscious break) but I probably do a quick scroll through on my phone somewhere between 3-5 times? unless I’m expecting something (a dm reply or an ask answer) bc then that number jumps to like 30x… I’m a bit obsessive <3

14. have you ever had a fight with another blog?:

I’m been fortunate enough to have never fought with any blogs in my 8 years on here (at least not to my knowledge?)

15. how do you feel abt "need to reblog" posts?:

not great. I think they cause unnecessary anxiety about what to put on ur blog! it’s ur blog! do what u want!

16. do you like tag games?

love em! i love hearing myself talk :,) </3

17. do you like ask games?:

yes yes ! ^^^

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?:

i literally have no idea… tumblr is fake in my mind… I know it’s social media, but it feels like a silly little diary for my Hannibal brainrot </3 ur all tumblr famous to me besties <33 :3

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?:

yes. all of them. if we’re mutuals, the fine print reads that we are actually engaged to be married! <3 :,)

20. tagging:

@haydenbadartist @snailmailthings @bluebean-draws @mirigen-ly @ezzakennebba and idk! anyone else who wants to! <33