#There’s no chance in hell that man’s music tastes are normal
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mapleandgingeroatmeal · 1 year ago
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Laios Touden would 1000% be the Cbat guy. He would love that song, he would fuck terribly to it for literal years. Look into your heart you know it’s true.
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hearts4sammonroe · 6 days ago
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“Pregnancy Era”
pairing: stephen glass x pregnant!reader
contains: fluff, signs of pregnancy, mentions of morning sickness but no details, mentions of sexual activity (detail), cutie!stephen!
a/n: @devotedlypaleluminary ‘s idea <333 enjoy!
divider credit: @enchanthings-a
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☆ The pregnancy wasn’t exactly planned, yet when all those pregnancy tests you took came back positive, Stephen Glass was the happiest man alive. Happy tears, jumping up and down, holding you, spinning you around, glasses falling off. He may have bad tendencies, but he knew in that moment he wouldn’t never leave you or this baby.
☆ The first pregnancy symptoms/first trimester was hell. But Stephen was there for you through everything. When you got tired, he was scratching your back until you fell asleep, no matter what time of day. When you were struggling with morning sickness, he was holding your hair back, getting you a damp wash cloth, soothing you. When your breasts started hurting, he’d gently massage them for you, making sure he wasn’t hurting you and that he was making you feel better. When you got your first craving, he ran to the grocery to get it.
☆ The mood swings were terrible. If your drink spilt, you started crying. If the laundry was dirty, you were screaming at him. You honestly scared him at first, but after he did his research, he realized it was normal and he knew what to do. But he sometimes made it worse with his constant questions… you’re still grateful for him no matter what! He just definitely asked a lot of “are you mad at me” ‘s in a day.
☆ The second trimester was definitely an adventure, but you both had prepared for it. When your belly started growing, he would admire it, grinning ear to ear. With the belly growth, you got stretch marks — if you ever got insecure about it, he was kissing them and telling you how beautiful you look with them.
When the baby moved for the first time, he probably cried more happy tears than you, immediately kissing your belly and laughing excitedly. “Oh, my God, that’s our baby in there! A whole person that we made!”
☆ Whenever you were just chilling on the couch or in bed, Stephen had his headphones on your belly, insisting that the baby comes out of the womb with good music taste. You guys knew the gender now and were thrilled, but you hadn’t picked a name yet.
“She’s gonna have my music taste for sure. Feel that? She loooooves it.” Stephen nods matter-of-factly while you just shake your head and laugh.
His white boy music started playing… Sweet Caroline��� and baby went crazy with her kicks. That’s how you guys got set on her name.
☆ By the third trimester, your belly was huge and heavy. You couldn’t see your feet. But anytime Stephen got the chance, he was holding your belly to help. Especially at bedtime since it was so hard to sleep. He’s doing anything to help — hold your belly, rub your back to relieve some pain, trace your arm.
☆ At this point, he’s too afraid of penetrative sex because he’s scared he’ll hurt you or the baby. You were usually exhausted, but still down for getting some action. He only ate you out, but it was still amazing. But he was afraid Caroline would somehow know.
He’s already leaning down and kissing your thighs until he stops. “What if she knows?” He asks, pointing to your belly. “Knows what?” You sigh. “That we’re getting freaky!” “Baby, she’s not gonna know. Please get to it.” It took a little more reassuring until he was eagerly eating you out again.
Every time he ate you out, he came in his pants. Tongue circling your clit, fingers plunging in and out, glasses fogged. He’d get so turned on by your reactions that he was cumming in his pants before you could even offer to help him out.
☆ He’s at every doctor’s apportionment, every ultrasound, you name it. He’s nervous as hell but he’s still smiling at you and holding your hand.
☆ You guys went to the hospital for Caroline’s birth on her scheduled due date. Once you got there, you were definitely dilated and ready. Stephen was panicking, but he told you he wasn’t, holding your hand and doing whatever you asked. But you knew he was panicking by the way his legs were shaking, his shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was breathing as heavy as you were.
☆ When you guys were still at the hospital for a few days after Caroline was born, he didn’t get any sleep. If you were awake and holding the baby, he was admiring and smiling widely at his beautiful girls. When you and Caroline were asleep, he was lying in bed with you while Caroline’s little crib was beside the bed. Just looking back and forth, probably trying not to cry more happy tears.
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taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @haydenismyman @anisangeldust @cassielunaaa @madsluvsdilfs @mvst4far @divineani @alealuvshayden @prettiestmini @darthrenswiftie @devotedlypaleluminary @amiratheangel @inlovewithallmusic
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cryptidghostgirl · 1 year ago
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Ritornello (Alastor x Cursed!Gn!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong.
Word Count: 3,565
Previous Part: Rhapsody
Next Part: Rapture
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Okay I know that canonically Charlie is like 200 but we're gonna make her 25.
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After everything with Alastor, Y/n tried to continued their life as it had been before he'd stepped into. It was challenging, they faltered and misstepped. They had been good at being on their own once but now that they had a taste of the alternative, it was difficult to fall back into their old ways. Eventually, they managed to fall into a new pattern of being.
They were a bit more careful now, they didn't dash out unannounced from behind corners or secret hiding places. Seeing Alastor was the last thing they wanted to do. Now, they had someone to avoid.
For seventeen years, they continued on like this. They struggled through their battles on their own, against the overlords and against their own personal situation. They searched high and low for a cure but the only things they ever seemed able to come up with were false promises and temporary fixes. Every day, the curse the overlords had placed on them to limit their powers was growing stronger. Every time they used their magic, played their music, it became more and more corrupted and so, they learned to fight with their hands. This was until they got the call from Lucifer, of course.
The pair were old friends of a sort. Y/n had met him by chance within their first few days in Hell when he'd pulled them out of a tight spot. They didn't spend time together ever or really see one another at all but, Y/n had a vague sort of trust for the man, a strong sense of a debt needing to be repaid. Y/n didn't like owing people things, not even back when they were alive. They didn't like depending on people in that way. When he asked them if they could keep an eye on his daughter, they couldn't refuse.
Charlie was a lot. At twelve years old, she was bright and over the top and constantly bursting out into song. At first, Y/n had been rather uncertain about the whole arrangement, even when she'd gone through her emo phase at fifteen.
Y/n tried to steer clear of them for the most part. Picking her up from school, dropping her off. Babysitting when her parents needed a night to themselves, the normal stuff. When the issues started between Lilith and Lucifer, Charlie was suddenly thrust into Y/n's life a lot more. She had no idea the real reason, both her parents wanting to keep the trouble from her due to their own care and protective natures, and Y/n tried their best to keep it that way. It didn't help that by sixteen, Charlie had practically moved in with the demon but they managed.
Charlie had always pushed for a connection, something more than Y/n making her dinner and getting her where she needed to go. Y/n resisted at all costs. They'd been hurt before by trust, by care. The idea of going through it all again was terrifying. That all changed the day Charlie found out about the curse.
Y/n hadn't meant for her to find out. One of their situation's many many downsides was that while the curse ate away at their magic, it also ate away at their physical form. If they weren't careful, if they didn't temper their emotions and make sure they were eating enough raw meat, the beast would take over.
The beast was a horrific thing in their eyes, blood hungry and devastating. It was sub-human, sub-demon even, writhing and scornful. A mass of twisting shells of prey, a mass of claws and sharp teeth.
Of course, Y/n couldn't keep it from Charlie forever and on one fateful evening, Y/n had transformed. They'd been overworked, stressed about the fact that the Vees were gaining more territory and power, that soon they would be practically untouchable. They had forgotten to take care of themselves in the rush of it all, prioritizing Charlie and their plans.
When they had come back to their senses, come back to themself, it had been to the sight of Charlie. With a damp rag held to their forehead by the demoness and a whole lot of bones from victims of their situation on the floor around them, they had opened their eyes. Y/n had expected Charlie to flinch, to run in fear, to tell Lucifer who knew nothing about the curse. Instead, she had smiled brightly and told Y/n she was glad they were okay. From that day forward, they were absolutely inseparable, completely attached at the hip.
With Charlie's help and cheerful influence, Y/n was beginning to learn how to exist. They loved the girl like she was their own and Charlie knew if she ever had an issue of any sort, she could go to Y/n about it. Even when Y/n had relayed the story of how they'd been cursed and why, there had been no issues, no qualms, nothing. Charlie promised her watcher that she would help them break the curse, no matter what it took.
It was watching Charlie come into herself as a young adult, watching her meet and fall in love with Vaggie that made the real difference. The princess of Hell was unapologetically herself and Vaggie took everything she had to offer with open arms. Slowly but surely, the search for a cure took a back seat as did Y/n's goal of taking down the overlords of Hell. Their life was different, but they were happy. They found themself wishing for the past, the one they had shared with Alastor, less and less, channeling their energy into the world around them. They didn't even notice when the reports started to come in that the Radio Demon of the overlords had seemingly vanished.
Things hadn't been without their challenges. Charlie's relationship with her dad was strained to say the least and when her mom had disappeared? She'd been absolutely inconsolable but with one another's help, they figured things out, made it through.
When Charlie pitched the idea of the Happy Hotel, Y/n had been doubtful. They knew a lot about Hell, the way it functioned, the way the demons within were. It came from decades running around back streets and surviving in the underworld of the underworld. It was Charlie's hope that did it, her earnest gaze. Y/n had caved and after months of hard work, the Hotel had finally opened.
Things were going well, too well even. Then there had been the interview with Katie Killjoy, the other shoe dropping. Y/n had watched it from the sidelines with Vaggie. As soon as Charlie had come down off the set, they had enveloped her in their arms and held them close. With Vaggie's help, they managed to get Charlie back to the hotel.
Once she had calmed down a little bit, Charlie stood from where she had been seated in the sitting room beside Y/n, Vaggie, and the hotel's one resident: Angel Dust. She mentioned something about calling her mom before disappearing into the lobby.
Y/n and Vaggie exchanged a look. They both knew the situation Charlie was in with regards to her mother and how she tended to get after one of her failed attempts to contact the woman. Neither thought this was the time or the place to step in however, and remained seated, chatting idly with Angel as they waited for Charlie's return.
When she finally did, it was with a nervous attitude and a strained expression.
"Hey Vaggie?"
"What?" Vaggie asked as she and Y/n twisted to look at Charlie who stood in the door way behind the couch.
"Can you come help me please?"
Vaggie got to her feet and exited the sitting room with her girlfriend. Y/n turned to Angel to continue their conversation but had barley gotten a word to the spider demon out when Vaggie stepped back in the room.
"Y/n?"
"Yeah?" Y/n replied calmly.
"Charlie actually needs our help with this one, I think."
"Alright then." Y/n got to their feet, shooting a glance back at Angel, "A true hotelier's work is never done." they lightly joked and Angel rolled his eyes.
"What's this about?" Y/n asked Vaggie as they followed her down the hall towards the hotel's main entrance.
"Just..." Vaggie sighed, "you'll see."
Noting the girl's odd behavior and stressed demeanor, Y/n steeled themselves. Not much put Vaggie on edge. She was strong, toughened, as far as Y/n knew, by a brutal upbringing in the streets of Hell. While each use of their powers made the curse grow stronger, they would not hesitate to protect Charlie or her dreams should the need arise. Besides, they'd become quite good at other means of self preservation over the years.
As they rounded the corner into the lobby space, Y/n was greeted by a flash of red as someone pushed past Charlie into the space from the street and a familiar voice.
"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show and I just couldn't resist. What a performance! Why I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929. So many orphans."
Y/n let out a low growl, summoning their lute into their hands and Vaggie pointed her spear at the Radio Demon. It was pure instinct. If they knew anyone, they knew Alastor and redemption was not the Radio Demon's cup of tea. As Charlie shut the door, he turned to face them. Y/n walked a few steps forward, planting their feet a little ways away from Alastor and poising their fingers to play.
"Get out of here." They said through gritted teeth.
Alastor's eyes widened with recognition for the smallest moment. As quick as he had lost it, he regained his composure.
"My what a protective force this Hazbin Hotel has." Alastor mused.
"It's called the Happy Hotel actually?" Charlie hesitantly corrected and he laughed.
"Not anymore its not. I did you the favor of fixing your sign."
A little threat couldn't hurt, a little reminder of who he was dealing with. Alastor had no idea Y/n was any less capable than when he'd first met them. One little note couldn't hurt, wouldn't show any of the damage done. Y/n plucked a single string on their instrument and the room around them began to glow. Everyone's hair lifted around their faces, the loose edges of their clothes beginning to flutter.
"Get out of here now. I wont ask you again."
"Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?" Alastor replied, smirking.
Everything suddenly clicked into place. There was something different about him. Y/n couldn't put their finger on exactly what it was, but they could tell he hadn't been lying. He'd been at the Hotel for at least five minutes by now, maybe more with all Charlie and Vaggie's running back and forth since his arrival. If he had had any truly negative intentions, they would have revealed themselves, especially to Y/n. Alastor was a good liar, but no one was that good, good enough to trick someone who had watched them become the person they are.
"Old friend?" Vaggie repeated, turning to Y/n in confusion.
Their grimace faltered, before falling completely. They released their instrument, letting it hang loosely in their hand by their side.
"Alastor! You're embarrassing me in front of my kid."
"Your kid?" Alastor asked after a moment.
This time the shocked expression that crept its way onto his face stayed there.
"You know him?" Charlie asked at the same moment as Alastor spoke.
Y/n let their instrument dissolve into the air and gestured to Charlie.
"My kid. And yes, Charlie. I know Alastor."
Alastor turned, looking Charlie up and down.
"You got with Lucifer?" Alastor asked in confusion as he looked back at Y/n.
They laughed lightly at the notion, unable to stop themselves. They shook their head.
"No. Oh my gosh, I would never. Seriously just... great guy and all but no thank you. I just take care of his kid for him. Well, used to. We sorta got attached."
Charlie walked up to Y/n as they spoke, pulling them into a side hug.
"Y/n practically raised me. They were kinda the only one who was always there for me."
Y/n looked down at Charlie with a fond smile. They ruffled her hair and Charlie quickly batted their hand away.
It was clear to Alastor that Y/n had changed. They were no longer the trouble making demon he had known, that he had loved. Still, there was that same spark in their eyes, that fervent desire, that want. From just the small interaction playing out before him, he could tell that Y/n had learned how to trust and protect rather than just fight. They had learned to live hand in hand with that creeping need woven so tightly around their bones, rather than despite it.
It made him happy to see, it made him happy for her. At the same time, it caused his heart to ache terribly. They had finally been able to let someone in, and it hadn't been him.
In the years since their separation, Alastor had never stopped thinking about Y/n. Their memory was tender to the touch, shot sparks of joy or anguish down him depending on the day. It was like an old wound that had never quite healed right. Seeing them now was unexpected. The wound reopened. He sheltered himself.
Y/n saw the way Vaggie still had her spear pointed at Alastor, aimed straight at his neck. Gently, they placed a hand on it, pushing it down. Vaggie looked at them, her eyebrows raised.
"If he wanted to hurt anyone here, he would have done so already."
Vaggie stared at Y/n for a moment. Seeing how serious the demon that had become a mentor to her was in this moment, she lowered her blade. Y/n's hand fell back to their side.
"Now," Y/n turned to look at Alastor once again, "why are you here?"
----
It was late. Vaggie had told Y/n that Charlie wanted to speak to them about something in their office and so, Y/n found themselves outside the familiar door. They knocked once on the dark red wood.
"Yeah?"
They opened the door and Charlie smiled.
"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Sunshine?" Y/n asked as they entered the room, taking a seat in the chair across the desk from their young charge.
"Just about Alastor."
They should have known. Not only was the hotel at a potential risk thanks to the decision to allow him to work with them but Charlie had always had a sharp sense of curiosity. Y/n sighed.
"Fire away, kiddo."
"Well, how do you two know one another? Can we trust him? Do you think he means what he says he does? I thought you hated overlords? I.. I..."
Y/n smiled softly, the change in their face easing Charlie's nervous temper.
"We will handle these one at a time, no prying. Deal?"
"Y/n, you realize how suspicious that makes you sound, right?"
"Fine. A little prying. Deal?"
"Deal."
Y/n leaned back in their chair, letting out a sigh of nostalgia. Their hands rested on their stomach as they kicked their feet up onto Charlie's desk.
"I... I met Alastor practically right after he arrived. We both thought the overlord system was dumb and so, we decided to team up."
There was a moment of silence, broken by Charlie. The young demoness had always loved Y/n's stories, begged to hear them. They had never once heard this one before.
"Is that all?"
Y/n shook their head.
"We dated."
"You dated!" Charlie exclaimed in shock, nearly jumping out of her seat, "You dated the Radio Demon. Were you in love?"
Of course she'd go on and ask that next. Not 'how'd that happen?' not 'when was this?' No, Charlie had to go for the hardest question first, like she always did.
"Yes." Y/n hesitantly replied, "I did."
"I... oh my god. This is actually crazy. You dated? You actually dated. Like for real, in love, dated."
"Alright." Y/n clapped their hands, taking their feet off the desk and righting themselves in their chair, "Next question."
"Bu-"
"I said some prying."
"Fine." Charlie sighed, crossing her arms, "But I am gonna get that story out of you eventually."
"I'm sure you will, sunshine." Y/n chuckled lightly, "Now. Can we trust him? I... I'm not sure."
All the excitement vanished from Charlie as she looked seriously over at Y/n.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?"
"Because, he's up to something but not with us. Or, if it is with us, it's not to hurt us. I... something happened to him, something is different. I am not sure what I just... he's not here to hurt us... I think..."
"You think?" Charlie repeated indignantly, "Can you be a little more sure of that maybe? Why only think?"
"It's been a long time since I've seen him, Charls. Maybe being an overlord is what changed him. I have no way of knowing but my gut tells me he's okay, at least for now."
"You knew him before he became an overlord?"
"You really think I would team up with one of those bitches? Come on. You know I hate them."
"I-"
"Next question." Y/n quickly interrupted, not wanting to think on the past anymore than was necessary, "I think he does mean what he says, as was implied in whether or not I trusted him but the same caveats that applied there apply here too. And I do hate overlords, I just..."
"You just love him." Charlie teased.
Y/n's cheeks grew hot. They looked away.
"I do not. I loved him. There is a difference."
"Uh-huh. Sure. Why did you guys break up?"
Y/n turned back to Charlie. They couldn't say no to those eyes.
"Well, he became an overlord. Also I maybe... never told him. About the curse. He could tell something was up and..." Y/n took a breath, "couldn't take it after a while I guess."
"So you guys still loved each other when you broke up."
"What are you scheming over there."
"Nothing! Nothing!" Charlie quickly replied as she not so discreetly scribbled something on a piece of paper, "How long were you together?"
Y/n placed their hands on the arms of the chair, pulling themselves to their feet.
"Alright, trouble maker, I think thats enough lore outta me tonight."
"But Y/n!"
"I'm gonna go to bed. Vaggie already headed upstairs for the night I think. Sweet dreams, princess."
"Good night Y/n." Charlie dejectedly replied as she realized she really wasn't going to be getting anything else out of her mentor that night.
"Good night."
Y/n was about half way through the Hotel back to their room when they felt a hand on their shoulder. Reacting purely out of instinct, they ducked out from under the person's grip, spinning around with their fists raised. Alastor smiled down at Y/n and they sighed.
"What is it?" they asked, straightening up.
He had expected Y/n to be angry, to have that familiar sharp edge behind their voice. Instead, they looked up at him. As if everything was normal, as if it hadn't been thirty years since they'd last seen one another, as if they had just been together yesterday, their eyes met his.
"I... it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too." they replied after a moment's thought, "What are you doing up this late?"
"You know me, sleep is not my preferred way to pass time."
"I meant what are you doing in the hall, but sure. Yeah, I know you."
"That darling Charlie asked to see me."
Y/n scoffed, shaking their head with a tired smile.
"Of course she'd... yeah."
They stood in the hall facing one another. Just a few feet apart. The silence was thick.
"You seem happy."
"I am." Y/n nodded, "Charlie is a great kid. I was pissed when Lucifer first asked me to look after her, I'll admit it but, she has grown on me."
"I didn't know you were acquainted with the big man. I thought you despised all authority figures."
Y/n looked critically at Alastor, over his whole being. He felt they were looking into his very soul, the heart of all his intentions and desires. He felt absolutely naked in the worst way under their gaze.
"No, just overlords. Especially ones who make deals for the souls of others. It's a stupid and outdated system. Even the best of them like Rosie abuse their power to get what they want."
It was a well sharpened arrow, the remark. Perfectly aimed. Alastor had, after all, introduced the small group inhabiting the hotel to Husk and Nifty just that afternoon. Y/n turned their back to Alastor.
"She has big dreams and the passion to see them through. I believe in her. Don't... don't fuck this up for her, Alastor."
----
Next Part -> Rapture
@moonmark98 @luzzbuzz @snowlotr @randomuser-89 @fakeguysarehot @xdolls-crownx
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qfzeeph · 1 year ago
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People liked the first Kaito x Reader post I made, so lets say, hypothetically, I made a part 2. And for the sake of debate, lets say that it was about him having a lil' crushy crush on the reader >:)
♡Kaito (Vocaloid) x Reader/Master HCs [2]♡
♡All fluff. No spice!♡ ♡Kaito is crushing on the reader!♡
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☆ He won’t outright say he’s got a crush on you, but there will be signs. He’s shy about it, worried you’ll think of him differently if you were to find out how he felt.
☆Kaito has been down this path before with other Masters who have gotten bored of him in the past. He hopes that if anything ever came of the two of you, it’d last. He’s simultaneously nervous and yearning at the same time, afraid of the worst outcome but praying for the best.
☆ He tries to spend as much time with you as he can, learning about your favorite things and what makes you yourself. He’s a quick learner and before you know it, he’s gifting you little things like your favorite snacks or candies when you’re having a rough day.
☆He flusters real easy. Any sort of accidental contact, be it bumping into him in a crowded space or your hands grazing one another when reaching for a treat, his face lights up bright red. He always apologizes, hoping you won’t notice his flushed cheeks. You see it every time. ☆In case you couldn’t tell, he’s not the best at hiding it. He might not outright say how he feels, but you can tell from every move he makes he’s into you.  ☆You see more of him. Much more of him. He wants to be around you as much as he can, chasing that serotonin only you can give him.
☆He puts a lot of extra effort into the songs you ask him to sing, the more intense his feelings develop the more effort he puts in. He wants to be his best for you, hoping you’ll catch on. ☆His heart melts if you compliment him. He’d stutter out a nervous “thank you,” as if he had forgotten how to speak.  ☆He’d eventually get brave and confess. Unless you beat him to it, he’ll be the one to tell you. Not because he’s any less nervous, but because keeping it to himself would become too much to bear. Of course he’ll be a shaking nervous wreck, but once he starts his onslaught of praise for you he’ll loosen up and put his entire soul into it. He wants you to know how special you are to him and how much it would mean to him if you were to return his affection.
☆If it ended up you two were smitten, he’d be overjoyed. Expect a barrage of light kisses and hugs on the spot the minute you tell him you’ve felt the same way the whole time.
☆If his confession caught you off guard, he’d hope you’d at least give him a chance. He’d understand if you didn’t despite the fact it’d sting like hell for him, but he’d hold out for the best outcome either way.
☆If YOU were the one who approached him to tell him, he wouldn’t know how to respond at first! He’s wanted this so bad, but he never expected you’d be the one to come to him. Of course he’d tell you he loves you too, but not without short circuiting out of pure joyful shock first. 
☆Bonus:☆
☆L/N: You thought normal Kaito was shy about his feelings. L/N Kaito is worse. This man is mortified to speak to you and prefers to fawn over you from a distance. You’re going to have to be the one to catch him and lay all your tender feelings on him. Once you have him though, he’ll gradually start to open up to you and only you. ☆WxS: He’s always trying to impress you, whether it be magic tricks, voice impressions, monologues from a play, or some sort of crazy stunt Miku taught him. He’s planning on asking you out via a magic act, by the way. ☆VBS: Everytime you see him, he’s either got a new brew of coffee for you to try, a baked good he made himself for you to taste, or a new mix for you to listen to. You’re his motivation! There was never a formal confession, but a touching of hands on the DJ board one day when he was showing you how he makes his music and a heat-of-the-moment peck on the lips after that sealed the deal for the two of you. ☆MMJ: You’re a distraction. A lovely, lovely, distraction. He can’t get any stagehand work done when you’re around, or when you’re on his mind. If only he wasn’t so busy, he could talk to you more. If you offer to help him with his handiwork, you may just get him to slip up and tell you how he really feels. ☆N25: Good luck. He’s a proud one, and isn’t going to drop the act for anyone. Except for you of course, when you’re alone and there’s nobody else around to see him. He’s honest with himself and you regarding his feelings, and he’s just as passionate as he is irritable. He loves aggressively, but not so much as to break your boundaries. You belong to him, but in the best possible way.
...cool fun fact. I've been trying to write a fic of N25 Kai and it keeps uh. going in an interesting direction. I had to put it down for a little bit because some life stuff came up but if I ever get around to finishing it, lord have mercy on all of you. anyway, thanks for readin' and I hope you enjoyed <3
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coffeebrownn · 2 months ago
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I love how in every variation of Winterfield (or any Chris ship for that matter), it's always Chris having the BIGGEST 👏 JUICIEST 👏 crush on Ethan and neither man knows about it
Like this old man is pining and going red-faced so freaking hard it's insane and he DARES to gaslight himself into thinking it's professional only
ME TOO I WISH WINTERFIELD IS MORE POPULAR LIKE GODDAMN MAN.. they're like opposite attract but more in their way of approaching(?), (i do think they have similar values/ideas),
i've summed their relationship as previously mentioned (mostly hc):
- selfish (Ethan) vs selfless (Chris)
- Ethan losing his humanity since the mold infected him, but he still has the compassion and bravery vs Chris willingness to give up his personal value to become a soldier to fight off BOW
- Chris always being treated as a "someone who's in charge" and Ethan does not care about that and so he never lets Chris BS come to him (which is great, i think that Chris need to act certain way in front of people, and Ethan acts as a median)
- Chris amd Ethan finds each other interesting and subconciously study each other under a microscope, (they both act "normal" but they're not "normal" you know?)
- I have this headcanon of their relationship that Chris goes all up to HWS, asking them to check on Ethan's mental state daily/weekly) , and Canine is smart enough to know his whole ordeal (i mean everyone does but not as detailed as Canine, he can smell the tea) and tell Chris that he's just doing it not because it's all for "professionalism"
Canine knows Chris' yearn for Ethan, and Chris want to know if Ethan is still pining over Mia, and he wanted to bring Mia's quality (that Ethan pines over) to just serve to Ethan (idk something about Chris understanding that he'll never have the characteristic/quality of Mia).
Which is really interesting to think about? someone who's altruistic, for most of his life ( i wouldn't say that chris is entirely miserable, but there's this diconnect with people around him), and now he has the selfishness and a chance to gain this simple desire.
- (headcanon) their wavelength matches, from jokes, to ideas, etc. sure they don't have similar taste in music or food but that doesn't really matter for Chris. Ethan's dry humor? Chris laughed because maybe it's just the way Ethan manages to store 1000s (if not more) of dry jokes, Chris absurd joke referencing an obscure 90s movie that Ethan never watched? the idea of Chris knowing that movie is just funny on itself and Ethan will ask Chris on "how the hell he knows that", idk man at least for me they just connect to well.
- BUT They argue a LOT too, it's not all lovey dovey shit, they're both stubborn AF, Ethan finds it annoying yet endearing when Chris tries to apologize, he'll never straight forwardly said it though (annoying)
and like you're right, seeing Chris never having a crush on his life and meeting Ethan and fallen in love with him (HARD) is the funniest shit ever.
(ps. read this fanfic it's up there with my chris POV hc)
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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 1 year ago
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Texas angst?
Why of course :)
Despite what he might tell you, his immune system is absolute sh*t and he gets sick a lot, though he usually works it off and there’s a 50/50 chance as to whether it gets better or worse.
^sorta related to the hc above: heat exhaustion. Yeah. He’s suffered from it on more than one occasion yet he still works outside when it’s boiling hot for WAY too long.
^oh yeah he also has asthma but refuses to use his inhaler cuz he’s afraid of being seen as week. Same goes for his iron supplements and meds that his therapist gave him.
If he gets into a serious fight that’s going too far, either the person he’s fighting has to give up, or someone has to separate them. There’s no other way for it to end. Texas is going to fight till his very last breath, and would rather die than accept defeat.
poor baby is insecure about the little bit of pudge on his lower belly 😔
(this is sorta happy but also sad-ish) whenever Texas is missing his mom, who’s name was Maria, he’ll go sit down on the beach and just stare out onto the ocean for hours since it reminds him of her (not to mention, the name "Maria" means "of the sea"). He also named his chihuahua Maria, after his mother.
He hates that he has to listen to what his government tells him to do, but if he doesn’t, his handlers will hurt them. One of the worst parts is, is that Texas thinks that they’re allowed to do this. The State Handlers are NOT, under ANY circumstances, allowed to harm the states. Texas doesn’t know this. Even if he did, he’s too scared to tell anyone.
Texas cannot handle seeing any animals die. He can’t. He will cry. Even if it’s a movie. Oklahoma tried teasing him about it and Louisiana nearly strangled him for it. Everyone needs a Loui in their life. (TW: s3lf h4rm and dr^g and 4lcoh0l mention under the cut, but I’m also gonna include some normal hc’s cuz why the hell not)
Texas does alot of stuff that he doesn’t know counts as self harm (ex: taking REALLY hot showers, biting himself, pulling at his hair, not eating for extended periods of time, etc…).
I’m not gonna say he smokes weed and cigarettes, but I’m not gonna say he doesn’t.
Yes he does in fact drink alcohol to numb the pain.
Normal-ish hc’s!
If you decide to ask what’s in his cup, prepare to be mildly horrified (or not). What’s in his cup? Well dear reader. Straight up whiskey, at least 10 shots of caffeine and espresso, a few red bulls and a C4 (the energy drink). This man is not okay (i promise) /ref
To the surprise of pretty much the whole statehouse, Texas does in fact listen to hyperpop, ESPECIALLY Odetari and 6arelyhuman (fun fact: they’re both from Texas. Yeah.). Sometimes you’ll hear him muttering under his breath: "hey scene sl*t we’re still cutting tonight, that’s why my wrists are so sore-". The only state that wasn’t surprised was surprisingly Louisiana. Cuz him and Texas make song recommendations to each other and they have the same music taste (except Loui doesn’t listen to country alot-).
Texas👏Does👏Trickriding👏. It👏Terrifies👏The👏Others👏.
He also makes knives and daggers out of random rocks his finds and he’s (not)surprisingly good at it.
^he makes slime too and you can pry that off my dead cold hands.
Me when,, me when I torture the blorbos,,, 👉👈 (I’m so notsorry):
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sweetponythings · 2 months ago
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Tipiskaw International High School Part 13
Beware that this story contains bullying, homophobia, mentions of abusive relationships, transphobia, mental health, heavy subject matter, drug use, suicidal thoughts. Please take care when reading.
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Only Your Love Can Save Me
By the time that Saturday came around, Jake had started to really settle into his new life in Miriam's home. She was warmer than anyone Jake had ever known and only got kinder the more time they spent together. She was like an aunt, a mother and a grandma all rolled into one kind, accepting, loving lady. Jake had been taken shopping a couple of times with Miriam that week, allowing him to buy some personalising furnishings for his new bedroom, a few band posters here and there and a brand new duvet set for his bed. It had really started to feel like his own little space. Things were good – well, as good as they could be considering the circumstances. His parents now thought of him as dead to the family or as if he had never existed at all. Whenever he remembered the exchange by the front door, a flood of awful feelings and thoughts flooded his brain like black water, clogging his rational thoughts. Jake kept finding he had the urge to just… disappear. To run away from this place and everyone here, to find a bridge overlooking a highway and to just – but almost as soon as those thoughts had a hold, Jake would remember he had a roof over his head, someone who loved him letting him stay under her roof and three square meals a day. Remembering those things pulled him back from that edge. However, he still didn't have Tom… and that was the thing he craved most of all. Everything felt empty without him to look forward to seeing every day, but it was too late. Jake had his chance, and he blew it.
Miriam had been more than enthusiastic when Jake mentioned being invited along to a party by Aiden, more enthusiastic than Jake was feeling, at least. The blue-haired young man had made his reluctance more than clear to the e-boy, but Aiden could be very convincing when he wanted to be. The shorter boy had practically begged Jake, telling him ‘he would have nobody else to hang out with’ as James was undoubtedly going to find his soccer buddies and vanish for the rest of the night, leaving Aiden all on his own. Jake relented after half an hour of nonstop messages from his friend, although the last thing he really wanted was to be stuck in a house filled with drunk teenagers and music loud enough to burst your eardrums. Miriam happily agreed to Aiden coming round so both boys could do each other's makeup before the party, telling him that her makeup style would be a bit too old-fashioned for his more ‘modern’ tastes.
Aiden arrived not long after Miriam and Jake had finished their dinner that night, both boys greeting each other with a hug on the front doorstep and the bi-colour-haired boy reaching to shake the hand of the woman who had so kindly decided to look after his dear friend. Both lads rushed up the stairs like it was Christmas morning to blast some music out from Jake’s laptop and mess around while putting on their cosmetics and deciding what Jake was going to wear. Miriam was more than relieved to see Jake acting like a teenager again, having a bit of normality once more. It was a joy to see the lad smiling with a friend, getting ready to have some fun after all the hell he had been through. Within forty minutes, Jake's room was now a total mess, like a bomb had gone off. Clothes were thrown here, there and everywhere as Jake had tried to dig through his drawers to find one of his favourite t-shirts, then making a mental note to himself to try and tidy up a bit before they left, and Miriam saw the state of the place. Aiden was close to slapping the taller boy as he kept dancing along to a Kesha song while the e-boy attempted to do his eyeliner. “You're going to look like a long-lost member of Kiss if you don't fucking stop. James is going to be here soon!” “Okay! Okay! I'm sorry; I really like this song!” Jake finally stopped flailing his arms around and using his hairbrush as a microphone for a brief moment so Aiden could focus on putting the final details around his eyes.
Jake could faintly see his own reflection in Aiden's excitedly shining eyes, the smaller boy flashing him a satisfied grin when he was done and then turning around Jake's pink hand mirror to face him. “Done! What do you think?” While he had braced himself, expecting to see raccoon eyes in the mirror's reflection, Aiden had done a highly impressive job! Nothing too much; Aiden had added just the right amount of detail, colour and sparkle to give Jake a boost for tonight. The blue-haired boy admired his own appearance; he felt…pretty, cute, perhaps even a bit striking. They both looked good; Aiden had chosen a red jacket with a white t-shirt, some black jeans and a pair of grey, check-patterned Converse, while Jake had eventually chosen one of his new black t-shirts with a short-sleeved white button-up over the top of it, some distressed jeans and a pair of pink sneakers, which he had to hide from his parents and hadn't had the chance to wear out yet. The cool new look filled him with confidence, despite the sinking feeling still sitting in the pit of his stomach. Now they were both ready to hit the party and hopefully not make too much of a fool of themselves. “Thank you, dude. I love it!” Aiden looked ever so pleased with himself; watching all of those tutorials earlier on YouTube was worth it after all. They had been a brilliant distraction from all of the thoughts buzzing around his head regarding James; Aiden had to down two coffees earlier on that day to keep him awake after barely getting a wink of sleep the prior night, consumed with the thoughts of everything that James had said to him and done for him during the week. Helping him discreetly in P.E. and getting him to the nurse's office, saving his artwork from Yul, and gifting him the roses which now stood proudly on his dresser in his room.
Meanwhile, every time Jake could feel himself getting genuinely excited about tonight, it was almost instantly dampened by those sinking feelings that he hadn’t been able to shake off all week: dread, fear, self-hatred, hopelessness, despair. Aiden kept noticing Jake’s vacant eyes staring off into space; God knows what he had gone through the past week, but Jake snapped back to reality just in time to catch the younger boy’s eyes on him, hopping off his desk chair and making an attempt to clean up a bit before their Brazilian friend arrived and trying to make a bit of light conversation. “So… Who’s going to be there tonight, any ideas?” Aiden had started to apply a little bit of lip gloss as he answered. “Well… Me, you, James, Benji…” Jake rolled his eyes at Aiden’s obvious statement, throwing a t-shirt at the back of his head, much to the e-boy’s annoyance. “Okay, okay! Don’t screw up my hair, dickhead!” Jake properly laughed for the first time all week at the reaction from the younger boy; Aiden just seemed to have this magical ability to make him do that and forget about his troubles for a little while. “I have no idea who else will be there, Jake; we’ll just have to wait and see…” Jake was tempted to bring up Tom’s name but decided against it. He would have much better things to be doing tonight, no doubt. Right on cue, the roar of James’s jeep pulling up to the house caught the attention of both young men, beeping the horn and waving up to the window to get the attention of both boys.
The car ride over to Benji’s address was mostly uneventful; Jake couldn’t help but notice the somewhat tense ‘chemistry’ going on in the front of the car. James had his eyes on the road and the stereo blaring, while Aiden was staring into space, looking right at James. It was easy to see that the curly-haired man had noticed, grinning like he had just won the lottery while trying to not get distracted by the younger lad. When the three young men made their way to the front of the house, the front door was already wide open, and the music could probably be heard from the next town over from how loud it was. Benji’s usually calm, peaceful and expensively well-put-together home was now a scene of utter carnage, chaos and debauchery. Where there were once decorations strewn about the place; almost all of them had been torn down and thrown all over the place. There were countless dark red stains all up the previously white wallpaper and dotted about the brand new carpet on the floor. One door that led into the kitchen had been taken off of its hinges and was now being used as a raft in the pool. There were people everywhere, standing in the doorways, occupying every room and hallway, and sitting and/or lying on the floor in various levels of drunkenness. Outside wasn't much better; half of the people in the pool were in varying states of undress, throwing what looked like a couch cushion back and forth to each other in the water.
"Now this is a fuckin' party!" James's eyes had lit up as soon as they lay upon the scene. Jake and Aiden stood side by side in pure shock and horror, the scene looking more akin to bedlam than any kind of enjoyable experience the two boys had in mind. Once they were all in the living room, the Brazilian lad had already pulled out his phone, taking a selfie while the two other young men looked on in a confused daze. James’s attention was then drawn to the fact he had recognised someone in the garden through the glass door in the kitchen, disappearing into the crowd much like Aiden said he would. If Jake was apprehensive before, he was downright regretting ever stepping out of the door of Miriam’s house now. “This was a horrible idea. L-let’s just go.” Jake swivelled himself right around, heading back for the door they had just walked through, Aden’s hand coming out to grab Jake’s arm to stop his escape. “Aww… come on, Jake, it’s not that bad.” Jake’s eyebrow raised at the e-boy’s statement, brown eyes then looking over to the centre of the room where someone was attempting to hang onto and swing from a very expensive-looking chandelier. Adien didn’t relet, simply just trying to ignore the chaos. “Come on… we just got here! Let’s try and have some fun! Oh, look –” Aiden’s attention was drawn to the fact that Hannah, Jade and Logan had found Benji’s childhood Wii console and were now playing Just Dance in front of the TV, despite the fact that someone had thrown a can of beer at the screen. “We’ve got to play!” Aiden’s puppy dog eyes weren’t working on Jake this time, the blue-haired lad looking down to give the younger boy an unimpressed stare. “Fine, I’m going to play. Why don’t you… get us some drinks?”
Jake swerved left and right, trying not to bump into anyone, which was quite the task when there was barely the room to breathe in the overcrowded kitchen. Grabbing two red plastic cups, Jake filled them both with what he hoped was punch, undoubtedly spiked from the empty bottles of Red Stripe and Malibu sitting next to the punch bowl. The red liquid in the bowl and the cups certainly had a strong odour to it. The stuff smelt like hand-sanitiser and tasted just as bad. This was going to be a long night, so Jake decided that grabbing a couple of cans of beer from the countertop behind him wasn’t a bad idea either. Returning to the front room, a little dance party was well under way, Aiden doing his very best to keep up with the others. Jake couldn’t stop himself from giving a little smile upon seeing his friend having so much fun; Aiden certainly deserved it after the traumatising stunt that Riya had pulled not too long ago. Her attempt to destroy the e-boy’s confidence had done nothing but seemingly make him stronger. Jake’s smile turned into a frown rapidly; he wished he could be like that. Like Aiden, who was strong and resilient, who always bounced back despite the adversity. Those dark thoughts that Jake had been desperately trying to push away all week came seeping back into his brain like parasites, taking control of his mind and dissolving any kind of rational thoughts that tried to fight back. Taking a seat on the upturned couch at the back of the room, Jake cracked open a cool beer and started to down it like he was dying of thirst, perhaps getting shit-faced would suppress those thoughts just for a little while…
Two hours later and Gabby and Ellie had arrived, instantly coming over to Aiden and Jake. The Polish girl instantly joined in with Just Dance with the e-boy and tried to help him beat all of Benji’s high scores. Ellie wasn’t quite as interested and took a seat next to Jake to catch up with him. The two friends happily chatted while getting more and more tipsy on whatever booze they could find from the kitchen as they watched Gabby and Aiden try to recreate the lift from Dirty Dancing after Logan, Hannah and Jade had gotten bored and made their way outside. More and more people arrived as the night went on, bringing with them more alcohol and various other… fun activities. The smell of weed was potent throughout the house, and both Ellie and Jake were certain they saw at least two girls come out from the bathroom with some kind of powder down the front of their dresses. Jake looked over each person that passed by carefully, wondering if he might catch a glimpse of Tom. As unlikely as that was, a small part of him still had a bit of hope he might see him tonight.
James still hadn’t made a reappearance, although the group of friends could’ve sworn that it was him that they could hear yelling from outside. In fact, not even Benji had made an appearance yet, despite the fact that it was his party. Despite their rocky start in their relationship, Ellie had become surprisingly easy to talk to and get along with for Jake, with only the occasional exchange of insults between them. Their conversation being occasionally interrupted by the thuds, shouts and repetitive banging coming from upstairs, one of the bedrooms being directly above their heads. All four of them unanimously and silently agreeing that it would be best if they stayed where they were and didn’t investigate any further. Even grouchy Ellie couldn’t hide the sorrow she felt for the seventeen-year-old lad, placing her small hand on top of his in sympathy after he explained all that had happened to him on Monday. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I know things haven’t been perfect between us, but if you wanted to ever talk privately, you know where I am.” Jake smiled at the sincere response, patting Ellie’s shoulder with a slightly choked-up “Thank you”.
All of a sudden, Tristan emerged into the living room, nervousness etched onto their pale face. They then tapped Aiden on the shoulder to get his attention, taking his focus from where the e-boy was sitting on the arm of the upturned couch. He and Gabby had both been taking a break from dancing and started conversing with the other two while rehydrating with the mystery red drink from the kitchen. All four of the friends saw the concern in Tristan’s eyes as they spoke. “Aiden, you haven’t seen Benji, have you? I think someone threw his PS5 in the pool… and they tried to barbecue his laptop.” Aiden shook his head in response to their question while Gabby burst out laughing, Jake and Ellie staring at each other in disbelief; they both mentioned not long ago they thought that they could smell burning. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Right, I’ll help you look for him. Where’s the last place you saw him?” The goth enby then looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly racking their brain. The copious amounts of alcohol they had undoubtedly consumed were not aiding things either. “Umm… I’m pretty sure I saw him… being tied to his parents' bed by Spencer, around forty minutes ago, but he’s not there now. I checked.” Aiden didn’t want to ask any more questions upon that lovely bit of information, sighing with a roll of his eyes and getting up to start the search. “I’ll be back in a bit; don’t barbecue anything while I’m gone!”
Jake nodded with slight unease as he watched the split-haired boy leave; Aiden had been his rock, preventing him from getting too overwhelmed with everything going on the whole time they had been there. He still had Ellie and Gabby, though; they were good company. “I forgot about the pool! I’m going for a quick swim; I’ll be back in a few minutes, babe!” Before Ellie could even think about stopping the hyperactive girl, Gabby had already run out of the room and was no doubt making a beeline for the pool. The American girl and the blue-haired lad just looked at each other knowingly before bursting into fits of laughter. Just as Jake could feel himself starting to relax again, all peace in his mind was dissolved in an instant. Riya Sharma had just emerged from the front hallway, Yul Kim in tow. The stench of cigarette smoke followed the pair like an omen of disaster. Jake’s heart rate picked right up, beating so hard that he could feel it all the way up to his throat. All of those memories of last Thursday came flooding back: Riya’s words and the terrifying look in her eyes as she towered over him and reduced all of his self-worth to dust. “I-I’m going to go-o out for a while. I need some f-fre-sh air – I’ll see you in a bit, Ellie.”
Jake bolted through the living room straight for the kitchen, barging his way past people to get out of the back door. Turning to the right and walking right past the pool, trying to avoid the scattered remains of a smashed PS5 on the ground and finding a private corner against the wall on the far side of the garden, well out of the way of most of the people around him. sinking down to his knees as he desperately tired, regaining control over his breathing. Please, God, no, not again, not here. Please don’t let me have a panic attack in front of all of these people. Jake’s brain was short-circuiting with all of the horrible memories and thoughts coursing through it, Riya’s words calling out to him as clear as day as he hugged his knees to his chest and began to cry, all alone on the cold tiles. ‘You’re worthless; you’re a pathetic, washed-up bitch, a pathetic whore.’ The sounds of shouts and screams of people enjoying themselves ringing in his ears along with the blood pounding around his head, adding to all of the overstimulation. The insults from Riya bled into becoming about what happened afterwards: ‘You’ve lost any chance you had with Tom because you tried to keep your mother and father happy, and now you’ve lost them too. Was it worth it? YOU’LL NEVER BE HAPPY! YOU HAVE NOTHING!’ Jake needed it to stop – the words, the noise, the chaos, the pain; he needed the whole world to stop. Looking in front of him, he saw a large white trestle table that people were coming and going from, getting drinks and snacks. A strong drink of something was the only thing Jake could think of which could possibly quiet his mind once more. Staggering forward, he looked down at what was on display. What would have the highest percentage? What would knock him out the fastest? Settling on a bottle of vodka, he poured himself a plastic cup half-full of the stuff, trying to ignore the fact that it tasted like bleach, gagging and wincing as he tried to down it in one. He could’ve been drinking a cup of some kind of cleaning product for all he knew; he didn’t care. He just needed to get out of his mind. Filling his cup a bit more, Jake’s brown eyes made contact with something else on the table, more powder, but next to it scattered here and there were pills, small and round with different logos imprinted onto them. Due to the poor lighting, the blue-haired young man couldn’t make out the colour of any of them. Jake’s knowledge of the topic wasn’t fantastic, but he had a good feeling they were ecstasy. Without any rational thoughts to hold him back, he scooped up a couple and shoved them into his jacket pocket. If the booze didn’t work its magic on shutting his mind up, these surely would…
Aiden had no luck in trying to locate Benji, walking into every room he could find in this seemingly endless house, finding plenty of people doing unspeakably ungodly things but not a single indication of where the person he was looking for was. There was one last room to try, a master bedroom at the very top of the house. Pushing the door open, the place was empty, not a single person in sight. Wanting to be double sure, Aiden made his way around the room, looking under the bed, peering out of the window and looking straight down at the pool, even checking the space under a dressing table in the corner. Nothing; there was only one place left, a large oak wardrobe with a heavy metal lock in the centre of the doors. Aiden had to brace himself before he made his way over, just in case someone decided to jump out and scare him. Just as his small, pale hand reached out to try to pull one of the doors, it swung wide open, making Aiden jump in the air with a start. “Aiden! Quick, come in and hide with me.” The e-boy stood there utterly stunned; it was James. He was sat cross-legged on the floor of the wooden structure, half a bottle of Bacardi lying next to him. Had he been there this whole time? “JAMES, WHAT THE FUCK?–” The Brazilian shushed the smaller boy and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into the wardrobe and rapidly shutting the door with a loud CLUNK. “SHH! We’re playing hide and seek.” Aiden facepalmed with a sigh, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. “Hide and fucking seek. How old are you? Seven?” “Eight, actually. Now, shut up! I can’t let anyone find me. I might’ve… accidentally broken Benji’s PS5…” The e-boy rolled his eyes again, typical James.
“I can’t fucking believe you! I need to get back to Jake; now let me out!” Aiden pushed against the heavy wooden doors, trying to get out, but they wouldn’t budge in the slightest. There wasn’t room in the stuffy wardrobe to move back enough to gain the amount of momentum needed to throw himself forward to try to force his way out. After a good while of trying, Aiden’s hands and side were killing him. He relented with annoyance and lay back against the wood, side by side with James as the dark-skinned man just grinned with amusement. Aiden had his head in his hands now, close to crying in frustration. “It’s stuck! We’re fuckin’ trapped!” Aiden was full-on panicking as he tried to think of a way out; yelling and banging against the door would be pointless due to the pounding music downstairs. He had left his phone in his jacket pocket, taking it off when he got too hot while playing Just Dance. James’s would be no use either because it had run out of power. They were screwed! James laughed at the dramatic display from the e-boy, not bothered in the slightest by their circumstances. James was then picking up the bottle of rum and handing it over to the split-haired boy. “At least we have this! Have a swig; it’ll take your mind off things.” With no better options, Aiden took the bottle grumpily, unscrewing the cap and downing as much as he could handle, almost coughing his lungs up at the taste and shoving it back into James’s hands. Aiden felt like he was close to losing his sanity as James tried to make a somewhat slurred casual conversation with the frustrated and slightly tipsy younger man.
Black boots paced their way up the gravel drive of Benji’s house, cautiously hopping up the steps. Tom pulled his jacket around himself as the cold air nipped at his skin. He had expected a wild party, but this was next level. Poor Benji was running back and forth like a man possessed, freaking out at the mess, with Tristan running after him in an attempt to calm him down. Tom was looking back and forth for James; he had told him about the party after all and told him to come along if he could. Tom would rather stay at home if he was honest with himself, but when James mentioned the chance of Jake being there, Tom had no other option but to come as quickly as he could. Finally Tom spotted a familiar face, Ellie. She was nervously pacing around the front room with a can of beer in hand, her face lighting up into a smile as she waved Tom over to her and squeezed his hand in greeting. “Hey, stranger. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up tonight. Want a drink?” Tom gave a bashful smirk and “no, thanks” in reply, eyes still looking left and right for the others. “Where’s Gabby?” “She decided to go for a swim and regretted it almost instantly. She went upstairs to get changed, but she’s been gone for, like, thirty minutes. I’m honestly starting to get a bit worried.” Tom pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “What about James and Aiden?” Ellie shrugged and took another sip of her drink. “No idea. James was outside, but he ran upstairs ages ago, and I’ve not seen him since. Aiden was helping Tristan look for Benji, but they’ve both come back downstairs, and I’ve not seen the twink since.”
Tom was starting to feel a bit worried; Gabby, Aiden and James were smart people, but he didn’t want to risk them coming to any kind of harm, especially not here. Ellie piped up once more, eyes very serious as she spoke. “I’ve not seen Jake for ages. He was here with me, but then he just… took off. I thought he may need some space, but he’s still not back either. The thing is, he ran off just as soon as he saw those two.” Ellie pointed towards the downstairs bathroom door; Riya and Yul had just stepped out of it with wide eyes and a suspicious white substance around their noses. The scar-faced boy caught the end of their conversation as they came into view; Riya was mentioning something about the fact that she had ‘invited her dealer, and he said he would be bringing the hard shit with him.’ Tom’s lungs tightened at the information he was taking in; this was bad. Four of his friends were missing, with not a clue as to where they might be. Jake's whereabouts were especially worrying due to the fact that he was undoubtedly in a more vulnerable state than normal, especially if the things that Aiden had told him were anything to go by.
Taking charge, Tom pointed Ellie towards the staircase. “Right, we need to look for them all. You head up there and look; I’ll go outside and try my luck there.” Both teens darted off in opposing directions, ringing each missing person with their phones and calling out their names in hopes of finding them. Tom was wasting no time, calling out for Jake. Searching high and low and asking everyone he came across if they had seen him. Diego briefly took a moment to take his tongue out of Spencer’s mouth to tell Tom that he last saw the blue-haired lad sitting against the wall nursing a cup of god-knows-what about fifteen minutes before, then saying he saw Jake sneak around the back of the house. Thanking his teammate, the black-haired boy dashed off like a rocket to attempt to find the boy he so desperately wanted to see. Tom just wanted to be sure that Jake was okay, mentally begging over and over for him to please be okay.
Back upstairs, the rum was almost all gone from the bottle, both boys taking many turns having a drink, performing whatever dares they could in the cramped space and asking each other the most random questions they could possibly think of in a two-man game of spin the bottle. Aiden’s tolerance for alcohol wasn’t great in comparison to James, who seemed close to sober despite the slight slurring in his Brazilian accent; regardless, he was having a surprisingly fun time. Aiden put that down to the fact that he was stuck with James. He just had this aura that Aiden had grown to love, or perhaps… it was just James that Aiden had grown to love. The Curitiba man looked oh so handsome in the low light of the wardrobe, a slither of moonlight being let in by a crack in the side of the wardrobe’s left wall, not to mention how James looked at Aiden like he was the greatest thing on earth. The bottle hand landed on James this time after a long streak of bad luck on Aiden’s part. It was time for a dare, Aiden decided, and he had a particularly ‘interesting’ one in mind for the older man sitting next to him. “Okay, James, your dare is… to do what you did on Monday again. Like when we were in the nurse's office.” Aiden had lidded eyes as he reached the back of his hand out towards James. Recalling the sweet way his soft lips grazed the back of his hand, distracting him from the agony in his stomach just before they said goodbye. James wasn’t sure what Aiden meant, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Aiden’s face fell, looking shy and a tad disappointed, managing to utter out a quiet no. “Y-you know, a kiss…” Aiden's eyes looked back at his hand that was still stretched out for the other man to put his lips to, things finally clicking for James as he felt his face heat up a little bit. The Brazilian’s eyes grew deviant as a smirk took hold of his face, so Aiden wanted a kiss, did he? James knew exactly what the smaller boy needed. Grabbing Aiden’s hand, James pulled the boy right in front of him with effortless strength, Aiden’s eyes going wide in shock. James’s large hands then came to grasp at either side of Aiden’s head, pulling the boy’s lips onto his own. Aiden could’ve screamed in surprise, but he realised… He didn’t mind what was happening; he was actually quite enjoying it. The e-boy closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering as the world grew dark and the only thing that existed in that moment was James’s lips on his. The Brazilian pulled back briefly for a gasp of air, only for Aiden's hands to tangle in his hair and pull him right back in for another bruising kiss, Aiden then boldly climbing into James’s lap as they continued to make out for as long as both of their lungs could hold out. Nothing else mattered in that moment; neither one of the young men wanted it to ever come to an end.
Around the back of the house, Jake Hamilton held his whole life in the palm of his hand. Blinking back tears as he gritted his teeth. “It’s too much… I don’t want this anymore… I can’t do this anymore… I don’t want to be here anymore…” Jake’s brain was like a broken record, repeating the same line over and over again. He held the pills in his hand, the moonlight shining upon them in the most beautiful way. There were two conclusions for what could happen next, Jake thought to himself. Result number one, he could take these drugs and have the greatest trip of his life, then wake up god knows where without a care in the world, or, result number two, he could get that high and simply… not wake up again. Fall asleep and be gently taken away by that blanket of darkness, never having to worry about anything ever again. It was now or never; Jake’s hand trembled as he brought it up to his face, sticking out his tongue and opening his mouth while squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Now was the moment for it all to stop and go away – “JAKE, STOP! DON’T!” Before the blue-haired man could move an inch, a hand was flying towards his and slapping the pills out of his grasp; a pair of black boots were then stomping on them on the floor, and a large pair of arms came to wrap him up in a tight hug. “Holy shit, Jake. Are you alright? What were you thinking?” Jake stood there in shocked silence. It was Tom, and he was… hugging him. Then Tom was holding his face and he was talking, but Jake could hear a word. He was only focused on what he could see, and what he saw was the most beautiful man in the world. He saw the man he wanted to be with all week. Without thinking, Jake pulled Tom towards him, gripping his black jacket and pulling him in for a passionate, loving kiss. Tom’s eyes widened in shock as he was cut off midsentence by the action, watching as Jake's dark brown eyes squeezed shut and tears rolled down the smaller boy’s cheeks, coming to land on Tom’s face. Tom was the one to pull them away, bringing up a hand to cup Jake’s face, the blue-haired teen nuzzling his face into Tom’s palm. “Are you okay, Jakey?” The taller boy’s voice was filled with nothing but concern as Jake continued to cry, but despite everything, he managed to crack a smile through his tears at the question. “I a-am n-now, To-om.” The scar-faced man giggled at the cheesy comment, looking deep into Jake’s eyes, watching the brown orbs fill with sadness once again.
“I’m so sorry, Tom…” “What for, sweetheart?” “F-for pushing you away! I’m so sorry for-for not speaking to you all week. I’m sorry for even thinking of touching those pills… I-I-I got kicked o-out of my parent’s house, an-and I wanted to tell you! B-but I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore after I told you I couldn't be with you and I-” Tom stopped Jake’s rambling with another deep kiss, letting the smaller boy melt into his embrace and then pulling away to leave a peck on Jake’s forehead. “I know, hunny, I know. Aiden told us… I’m so sorry. I’m here now… I won’t let you go through it alone. That first day we spoke… in the bathroom, I told you so. I’m here for you, regardless of if you want a relationship or not.” Jake's hands shot up from his sides to tightly grasp Tom’s scarred ones. “I d-do want one, Tom; all I’ve wanted all week… is you… I-if you’ll have m-me?…” “Fuck yes! Come here, you…” Tom didn’t need to say anything else; this time both boys leant in for a long, loving kiss, all of the emotion of the past week being stripped away by that beautiful movement. Two puzzle pieces coming back together after too long apart. It was beautiful; everything felt beautiful. “C’mon, babe. We’re leaving this shitshow. I swear this place is fucking cursed! Miriam will be wanting you home by now anyway.” Both young men strolled hand in hand back to Tom’s car, only pausing for a moment for Tom to shrug off his jacket and pull it over Jake’s shoulders and arms, trying to keep the shivering smaller boy as warm as possible. All of that darkness had been flushed out of Jake’s system by Tom’s presence, his words and his actions. Finally Jake had what he wanted: a lover whom he could depend upon, a lady who gave him a home and treated him like her own son, and friends who he would do anything for, and he knew they’d do anything for him too. Tom pulled the passenger side door open for Jake to sit down in the front seat. Jake was still rubbing the wet tears off from his face as Tom pulled out his phone and tried dialling Ellie’s number, wondering if she had any joy in finding the others.
Ellie had found one of the group, her girlfriend. A plume of smoke flew out as she pulled one of the upstairs bathroom doors open in an attempt to find Gabby, and Ellie found her all right. Sitting in an empty bathtub with Tess, sharing some brownies as Hunter and Ally sat on the bathroom counter, Hunter’s lips wrapped around a bong as he took a long hit and then brought Ally’s lips to his, shotgunning the smoke into her mouth. Ellie had to do a double take at the utterly shocking display in the bathroom, marching over to grab Gabby by the hand and pulling her out the door without a word to the others; she could chew them out next week at school. Now she had to find the rest of the boys. Trying to question Gabby was pointless, as the girl was hardly making a lick of sense, babbling on about something to do with penguins and the ice caps. Ellie continued the search, finally coming to the top of the house, another empty bedroom, until an unusual banging noise caught the attention of both girls. “Babe! The wardrobe, the doors keep moving! What if it’s a kitty stuck in there?” There wasn’t even time to try to stop the Polish girl as the lock was undone and the doors were flung wide open. The sight was something to behold.
Aiden brooks on his back while James hovered over him, pinning him down to the floor of the wardrobe as they ferociously made out with each other, only stopping when they realised both of the girls were watching the show. Aiden went bright red as James sat back and rubbed the back of his neck with a coy smile. Ellie was the one to break the long silence that followed, uttering a somewhat confused “umm… guys?” Aiden then sat up, opening his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Gabby. “THEY WERE GOING TO MAKE A BABY!” “NO, WE WEREN’T!” Aiden leapt out of the wardrobe, ready to strangle the dark-skinned girl as they ran around the room, Gabby running her mouth the whole time. James managed to get himself up with the help of Ellie lending him her hand, then turning to face the redhead and asking a quick, “Is she stoned?” Ellie then muttered out a small “Yeah…” as she looked at her girlfriend, now jumping on the bed in the middle of the room like it was a trampoline while shouting, “I ATE SOME BROWNIES!” Aiden was looking on utterly stunned at the fact he was just caught making out with James by two of his best friends. “Ugh, she met up with Ally, Tess and Hunter, and they gave her some edibles for some fucking reason. I’m going to kill them all next week, I swear. Anyway, come on, we’re leaving. This house is a fuckin' nightmare.” James nodded in agreement as he reached for Aiden’s hand; the younger boy then happily accepted the gesture with a blushing smile, then standing on his toes to reach up towards James’s ear to whisper quietly. “That was my first kiss, thank you, James,” then pecking the taller man on the cheek as they walked out of the room, Ellie and Gabby following close behind. James turned around briefly to speak to Ellie as they made their way down the stairs. “Are you sober enough to drive?” A single resounding “Nope” came from the American girl’s lips, with her asking, “What about you?” in return. James shrugged with a “Nowhere near enough” at the bottom of the staircase as he watched Aiden dash into the living room to grab his jacket from the back of the still upturned couch, the four then walking out of the front door to be met with the smiling faces of Jake and Tom. “There you all are! Come on, hop in. Let’s get out of here.”
 The ride back was a content one for all six of the teens. There weren't enough seats, so Aiden had to settle for sitting on James's lap for the whole ride back, Ellie then commenting that he should've been used to that by now, earning her a punch in the arm from the e-boy. James certainly didn’t mind as he continuously kept pulling Aiden in for more kisses. Jake and Tom gave each other a brief confused look, which then turned into smiles, glad for the other two boys who were now making out on the backseat, Ellie loudly complaining the whole while. Amazingly, no one threw up in the back of Tom’s car, much to his relief when he pulled up on Miriam’s driveway and ushered everyone out of the car. The older woman held her hands on her hips at the sight of them all, her disappointment quickly vanishing and being replaced with pure joy upon seeing Jake pull Tom in for a brief kiss as they all walked through the front door. Tom helped Miriam pull out the spare blankets and pillows as Jake led all of his friends up to his new room to give them a little tour before bedtime. Aiden and James cuddled up together in a makeshift bed made out of sleeping bags and couch cushions on the floor as Ellie and Gabby did the same on the other side of the room. Tom and Jake then climbed into the blue-haired teen’s bed, the two boyfriends now ready to settle in for the night, content and happy as they wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Jake smiled from where he leaned against Tom’s slowly rising and falling chest, whispering in the darkness, "Hey, Tom?" and getting a sleepy "Mhmm?" in response. "I love you too." Jake could feel the smile that came from Tom at his words— two scarred arms and hands coming to wrap even tighter around Jake's tired body. Everything was going to be alright now, because they all had each other, and nothing could break what they all had found together. Jake had finally found what he wanted: happiness.
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aller-geez · 5 months ago
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Vaelyn’s Journal
(A glimpse into the journal Vaelyn left when he disappeared after the fire at a Toad Biscuit show)
(A continuation of this fic can be read here, and LET ME TELL YOU, WORTH THE READ.)
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Nebralis 3rd, 4777
Well, here I am—journaling. Never thought I’d sink to this level, but Rexar said I needed a hobby that wasn’t, and I quote, “making everything about myself” or “picking fights for fun.” He doesn’t get it; those are my hobbies, Rex. But no, apparently, scribbling in a notebook counts as productive. So congrats, journal, you’re officially my new therapist. Sorry in advance for the mess you’re about to witness. At least you don’t charge by the hour.
Tour’s been insane lately—in the best way possible. Last night’s crowd was on another level. I swear my ears are still ringing from the sheer volume of people screaming our lyrics back at us. There’s nothing like it. That wall of sound? It’s like an electric current running through your veins, charging every nerve, making you feel invincible. For those two hours, you’re not just a guy on a stage; you’re a god, and they’re your worshippers. It’s addictive, man. Makes all the sleepless nights, shitty gas station snacks, and the occasional questionable motel worth it.
Oh, and “Inferno’s Lament”? Absolutely nailed it. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I shredded that riff so hard the strings were practically begging for mercy. Rex didn’t even try to steal my thunder for once. I caught him smirking, though. He’s sneaky like that. He’d rather choke on his own pride than admit it outright, but I know he was impressed. It’s the little things, you know?
Kriia, on the other hand, is a one-woman health brigade. This morning, she stormed onto the bus wielding a blender full of something green, chunky, and entirely too suspicious. “It’s for your immune system,” she said, like that explained the fact that it smelled like a lawnmower threw up. I choked it down like a champ because I’m nothing if not a team player, but let me tell you, grass has no business being in liquid form. Pretty sure my taste buds are filing a formal complaint.
Speaking of the bus, it’s becoming more of a madhouse with each passing day. Rexar’s got his guitar permanently glued to his hands, Kriia’s organizing everything like she’s running a military operation, and I’m just trying to keep up with it all. Life’s chaotic, exhausting, messy—and I love it.
Here’s hoping it stays this way.
(Also, note to self: figure out how to casually bring up to Rexar that we need actual snacks on this bus. If I see another bag of stale chips, I might riot.)
Nebralis 10th, 4777
You’ll never believe what I pulled off last night, journal. During soundcheck, I might’ve cranked my amp up to 11. Not metaphorically. Literally. The poor speakers didn’t stand a chance. One minute, everything’s normal, and the next, there’s this unholy screeching noise followed by a very satisfying pop. The crew was pissed—like, “ready to string me up with guitar cables” pissed—but the look on Rex’s face? Priceless. He looked like he was one bad chord away from punting me straight into next week. Worth every penny it’s going to cost to fix the damage.
That said, Rex has been… weird lately. Normally, his broody “I’m too cool to smile” shtick is just part of his charm, but recently it’s like he’s carrying around the weight of the world on his overly muscled shoulders. Case in point: I made what I thought was a hilarious crack about his hair looking like it had gone twelve rounds with a weed whacker and lost. Usually, he’d fire back with something equally brutal (and probably funnier), but this time? He just gave me this weird, disappointed look, like I’d kicked his dog or something. It was unsettling, honestly. Note to self: retire the hair jokes until further notice.
Anyway, back to more important things—my music. I’ve been working on a new song, and let me tell you, it’s a beast. Heavy as hell, with a gnarly breakdown that’s going to melt faces and maybe even break a few bones. The kind of track that makes the crowd go feral in the pit. I’m calling it "Oblivion’s Grasp," and yeah, I know it sounds pretentious, but it fits. It’s got this raw, almost primal energy that just screams “instant classic.” Rex hasn’t heard it yet, but I’m banking on it being the thing to snap him out of his funk.
Tour life is exhausting, yeah—barely any sleep, running on gas station coffee, and constantly surrounded by people who are way too chipper for their own good—but it’s moments like these that remind me why I love it. The chaos, the adrenaline, the thrill of creating something that can make thousands of people lose their minds all at once.
Now, if only Rexar would stop looking like a kicked puppy, and Kriia would stop trying to make me drink liquid spinach every morning, life would be perfect.
Nebralis 22nd, 4777
Something’s wrong.
It started small—barely noticeable. Just this weird pressure in my head, like someone pressing their thumb into my temples. At first, I brushed it off as another headache or maybe the lack of sleep catching up to me. But now… now, it’s whispers. Faint, almost inaudible, like a distant radio frequency that keeps cutting in and out. They’re constant, though. They ebb and flow like waves, just loud enough to make me turn my head, only to find… nothing. Every. Single. Time.
I haven’t told Rex or Kriia. What would I even say? “Hey, by the way, I’m hearing voices now. Cool, right?” They’d just worry, and the last thing I need is Rex launching into another lecture about “self-care” or Kriia dragging me off the bus to meditate under a tree or some shit. Besides, Rex is already on my case. He’s been riding me about snapping at the crew, and yeah, okay, maybe I’ve been a little… prickly lately. But it’s like my patience is razor-thin, and everything—everything—feels like it’s grating against my nerves.
We had another fight today. I don’t even remember how it started. Something about my amp, maybe? Or was it the soundcheck schedule? Doesn’t matter. It ended with Rex storming out, his footsteps heavy and furious, and Kriia giving me that look. You know the one—the look that says, “You’re better than this, and you know it.” But am I, though? Because right now, I don’t feel better. I feel… cracked. Like there’s something sharp and dark splintering just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to break through.
I can’t shake this feeling, either. Like something’s watching me. Always just out of sight, hovering in the corners of my vision. It’s stupid, right? Stress, exhaustion, maybe even a touch of guilt over how I’ve been acting. That’s all it is. Except… sometimes I’ll catch a flicker of movement—a shadow where there shouldn’t be one. Or I’ll hear my name in those whispers, just faint enough that I can convince myself I imagined it.
I’m probably just stressed. Or tired. Or maybe…
...Maybe it’s something else.
Nebralis 37th, 4777
I haven’t slept in three days.
Every time I close my eyes, the shadows come alive. They don’t just move—they writhe and twist like they have a purpose, like they’re watching me, judging me. Sometimes they take shapes: faces I don’t recognize, with mouths stretched too wide, eyes that don’t blink. It’s like they’re daring me to look away, and when I don’t, they dissolve back into darkness, leaving behind this awful itch in the back of my mind.
And the voices… they’re louder now. No longer faint whispers in the distance, they’re right in my ear, hissing and mocking, their words just out of reach. Sometimes, I think I catch a phrase—“failure,” or “liar,” or “you don’t belong here”—but it’s so fleeting, I can’t be sure. I feel like I’m being haunted, stalked by something I can’t see but know is there.
I’m losing it.
Rex and I had another blow-up today. I don’t even know what set it off. He said I’m “impossible” lately, and he’s not wrong. I can feel it, too—this creeping, suffocating sense that everything is spiraling out of control and I’m powerless to stop it. I lashed out at him. I could see the hurt in his eyes before he stormed out, but I didn’t stop him. What could I even say? Sorry I’m losing my mind, please don’t take it personally?
Kriia tried to step in, like she always does, her calm, steady voice trying to pull me back to reason. But I snapped at her too. It was worse this time. Her face fell, and for the first time, I saw real pain in her expression. She didn’t say anything, just left the room quietly, and now I can’t stop thinking about how much she didn’t deserve that. None of them do. They’re trying to help, but every time they reach out, it feels like claws digging into my skin.
If this is what losing your mind feels like, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. It’s like being trapped in a box where the walls are closing in, and you’re screaming, but no one can hear you—or worse, they can hear you, but they don’t know how to get you out.
The worst part? I’m afraid to tell them what’s really happening. How do you explain to your best friends that the shadows are watching you? That the voices are getting louder? That every time you blink, you’re afraid something will be there when your eyes open again?
I’m terrified. But even more than that, I’m ashamed.
Eclipsin 2nd, 4777
Tonight’s going to be epic.
We’re playing one of the biggest venues of the tour—massive stage, insane acoustics, sold-out crowd. The kind of show every musician dreams of. And I’ve been planning something special: a surprise pyro effect during “Burn the Sky.” I spent hours setting it up, tweaking the timing, making sure it’s flawless. When it goes off, it’s gonna blow Rex’s mind.
He needs it, too. The guy’s been in this weird, brooding headspace lately, even more than usual. I mean, I get it—touring is exhausting, and dealing with me can’t be a picnic. But tonight, when he sees those flames shoot up on cue, he’ll have no choice but to crack that stoic exterior. Maybe he’ll even smile. Hell, I might faint if that happens.
The whispers are quieter today. I’m not gonna lie, it feels like a win. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe I’m finally starting to beat this thing. Or maybe—get this—I just needed a good distraction. Who knew the cure for existential dread and auditory hallucinations was obsessing over pyrotechnics? Thanks, science.
Anyway, I feel good. Really good. My head’s clearer, and for the first time in weeks, I’m not jumping at shadows or snapping at everyone like a rabid dog. It’s like the fog is finally lifting.
Rex and Kriia still give me these side-eye glances, like they’re waiting for me to combust or something. Can’t really blame them; I have been a bit of a nightmare. But tonight, I’ll remind them why we’re out here doing this.
This show is going to be legendary. The crowd’s gonna scream their lungs out, Rex is gonna lose his cool when he sees the pyro, and for once, everything’s gonna feel right again.
And hey, if the flames accidentally singe Rex’s eyebrows off… well, that’s just a bonus.
Eclipsin 5th, 4777
What have I done?
The fire… it spread so fast. One moment, the crowd was screaming in excitement, their energy electric and feeding the stage. The next, their screams turned to panic, to terror. Smoke, flames, chaos—it’s all a blur in my mind, fragmented and broken like a smashed mirror.
I remember the pyro. I was so sure it would be perfect, that it would blow Rex’s mind and leave the crowd breathless. But something went wrong. Or maybe I went wrong. My mind feels like it’s full of holes, memories slipping through the cracks. I keep replaying that moment in my head, but it’s like trying to watch a shattered movie reel.
People got hurt. People… died.
I can still see their faces, distorted by the flames. Some were terrified, running for their lives, while others… others were laughing. Twisted, horrible laughter, echoing over the roar of the fire. Was it real? Or just another trick of my broken mind? I don’t know anymore.
I saw Rex, just for a moment. He was looking at me—no, through me—like I was a stranger. Like I was something dangerous. And Kriia… she wouldn’t even meet my eyes. That look of betrayal, of fear… it’s burned into my memory as vividly as the fire itself.
I ran.
I didn’t know what else to do. The smoke, the heat, the chaos—it all swallowed me whole, and I ran. My legs carried me out of the venue before my brain could catch up. The shadows were everywhere, crawling along the edges of my vision, twisting into grotesque shapes that felt too real to ignore. And the voices—they were louder than ever, screaming accusations, calling me a monster, telling me this was all my fault.
Maybe they’re right.
I can’t remember how I got out. I only know that I didn’t stop running until my legs gave out beneath me. I woke up… somewhere. A cheap motel, I think. The walls were stained, and the air reeked of mildew, but I didn’t care. I was too afraid to leave.
It wasn’t until today that I finally checked my phone. Rexar’s messages were there, a flood of frantic texts, each one worse than the last. He said he saw me leave the venue, but I haven’t responded. What could I even say? “Hey, Rex, sorry I burned down the place and killed people. Let’s grab lunch soon!”?
The voices won’t stop. They whisper every horrible thing I’ve ever thought about myself, clawing at the inside of my skull. And the shadows—they’re still here, slithering just out of reach, mocking me with their presence.
I can’t shake the feeling that something is chasing me, something I can’t outrun. Maybe it’s the Oblivion. Maybe it’s just me.
But one thing is clear. I can never go back. Not to the band, not to Rex, not to Kriia.
….I’m not sure who I am anymore, but whoever I was died in that fire.
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eryiss · 11 months ago
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[Jet x Freed] Cubicle Capers - Chapter Four
Summary: Jet was meant to do more. He was meant to do something with his degree. He was meant to have a purpose. He'd taken a job at Grimoire Pharmaceuticals to work his way up into a lab position, but found himself stuck in a cubicle. Every day the same. At least he had a new boss coming. Freed Justine. He’d be like the rest, though. Boring, outdated and.. hot as hell?
Notes: Conflict. Forgiveness. Embarrassing pictures. All here right now. Again, this was requested by @jethro-art.
Links: Ao3, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Epilogue
Chapter Four – The Argument
Jet
There were shit days, and there was the day that Jet was having.
Slowly, over the past few weeks, little things had gone wrong and he'd dealt with it. His coffee machine as home had started giving the beans a weird taste. The supermarkets had decided to change the layout and he had no idea where his usual brand of heavy-duty trash bags had ended up. The new neighbour across the street had decided he'd start making his front lawn look presentable, but had to blast out trance music at top volume to do so. Jet's nerves had already been grated on, even before the shit-show of the morning.
Speedster, his vintage sports car and only transportation, had decided to splutter and smoke and cut out. He tended to the car like a child, taking every precaution to make sure she ran like she was showroom fresh. He'd invested a fair portion of his meagre wages on her, and for no understandable reason, that morning she had died.
That would have been bad enough already. To deal with the fact his pride and joy was dead on the street would be difficult, not to mention the fact all the money he'd spent on her had essentially been flushed down the toilet. But then he had to navigate the streets – littered with trash since the refuge union were rightly, if annoyingly, striking again. Then the bus system, which had been underfunded since before Jet was born. Then the tram system, which as a cost cutting measure had decided to half the carriage amounts and force everyone into overly cramped and revoltingly sweaty quarters not fit for humans. They also were running late, and Jet hadn't known he'd had to contend with any of this crap before his normal leaving time, meaning he was late for work. Very fucking late for work.
He stormed into the building, cursed out the stupid turnstile which took three attempts to identify his ID card, and ran up the flights of stairs because it would be faster than taking the elevator. Sweaty and angry, he threw his bag down under his desk and let his expression harden. He would let himself be angry for a little while before he started; best not let that anger touch his scanning or he'd be pissed off all day.
"Jet," Laki said, head poking into his cubicle. "Freed says he wants to see you when you get in."
Jet ground his teeth together a little. "You think I could have a couple minutes before I go?"
She winced. "I don't think so. He seemed pretty insistent," she screwed up her face. "The phrase 'if he deigns to show his face' was used, so I'd probably go now."
He forced himself to unclench. He had wanted to get a mug of non-burned coffee, and maybe a chance to splash some water on his face, before he did anything professional. He wanted to not be pissed off at the stupid busker and his stupid crowd of watchers who had gotten in his way. He wanted a moment to get his heart rate down. He wanted a better goddamn job that might be worth the stress of a crappy morning.
But duty, and managers called, so he had to do as he was told.
This was Freed, though. In the half a year he'd been working there, Freed had never once been unreasonable. Jet was always punctual, and it was obvious this was a random occurrence. Freed would see reason. With two knocks, Jet walked into Freed's office.
"Hey man, I'm really sorry-"
Freed silenced him from behind his desk, not with a word, but with a raised finger. He motioned for Jet to take the seat opposite him, and Jet did so with a scrunched-up face. Freed seemed different.
The room was different, too. Freed's phone was lit up red on all lines, the pinboard beside his desk which previously had been entirely clear now was filled with spreadsheets and random charts, and a small collection of half drunk and discarded mugs of tea and coffee decorated his desk. Freed had always kept his desk clean and his office minimalist. He was a neat freak, Jet had assumed, and yet his office today looked cluttered and messy.
"I don't know what you think is happening," Freed said, and his voice had an edge to it. "But you cannot do this."
"I wasn't-" Jet tried again, but Freed shot him a look that shut him up.
"I am your boss and as such it is my responsibility to make sure you adhere to the company rules of employment. One of which – the most obvious, I would say – is that an employee must be in the office and working for the hours their contract dictates. Your contract states you should be in the office at eight thirty and leave at five. It's ten o'clock, and you've only just gotten here. That cannot happen. There is a small amount of leeway I can give you. An hour and a half goes far beyond that."
Jet knew that, and it kind of pissed him off that Freed felt the need to explain it in that condescending tone. "Yeah. Obviously, but-"
"I understand that perhaps I blurred the lines of proper conduct between us by our trips to the bar," Freed began, and Jet could see where this was going. Oh fuck no. Freed wasn't actually gonna do this, was he? "But, us having a friendly relationship outside of work does not allow you to disregard the rules of your employ."
"You're kidding me," Jet muttered, leg bouncing.
"If us meeting outside of work is going to give you reason to think you can come and go from work without care for the proper-"
"Are you fucking kidding me!" Jet snapped, and it might have been louder than he expected because Freed sat up a little straighter. Jet didn't care. If Freed was implying this, then fuck Freed. "That's what you thought this was huh? Me, cosying up to the boss so I don't have to come to work on time? That's my evil plan, huh? Make friends with ya then half ass this job."
"One and a half hours late-"
"Happens! Shit like that happens! You don't get to-" Freed didn't get to imply their meetings in the pub, which had been a weekly thing for them both since the first, were anything but two guys having fun. Freed didn't get to imply that Jet was going to the pub with him for malicious reasons. Freed didn't get to paint Jet in that light. But he couldn't say any of that. It all sounded too soppy and emotional. Instead, he stood up and walked to the door. "Fuck this."
"I'm not finished speaking with you Jet," Freed said in a voice that might have intimidated Jet if Jet wasn't sure he was in the right.
"Who cares?"
"We are going to have this-"
"HR's been on our asses about taking all our vacation days since that lawsuit. I'm taking mine. Guess I'm not late after all."
"Jet."
"Whatever you're about to say, I don't give a shit. Don't care about the words of a guy who'd assume the words of me," Jet shrugged. "In fact, take your words and shove them up your tightly wound, hypocritical, shitty at Donkey Kong asshole!"
He left the office, slammed the door, picked up his bag from the cubicle, and got the fuck out of there. If Freed wanted to yell at him tomorrow, so be it. That just gave Jet a full day to think of the ways to make Freed feel as shitty as Jet himself felt.
Fuck Freed Justine. Fuck him.
———
Freed
Exactly twenty-two and a half hours later, Freed had been given more than enough time to realise how terribly he'd handled the situation.
He could give himself excuses. He could say that before Jet had arrived, the CFO had come into Freed's office to discuss a matter, and had decided that because Freed wasn't drowning in paperwork and visibly stressed beyond functioning, he wasn't working hard enough. He could say that this had led to his phone being the go-to for all the questions that no department was specifically meant to answer. He could say that the reality of his office job had started to crush him, and for the first time Freed was considering quitting a job purely because he was struggling to handle it.
None of that mattered, though. Yes, he was a person who had flaws and bad days, but so were his employees. If he hadn't allowed Jet to explain his lateness, then Freed had no right to explain his unfair assumptions. He was wrong, he had deserved Jet's yelling, and the onus was on him to fix things.
As such, Freed had spent the morning waiting at the elevators, looking for Jet. He hoped he'd come in. He would come, wouldn't he? Jet hadn't quit, so he'd come back to work eventually. Right?
His question was eventually answered, when Jet trudged out of the stairwell beside the elevators, and Freed saw him from the corner of his eye. Jet saw him at the same time, and they looked at each other. Jet's posture was rigid and anticipatory, the very personification of someone waiting to close either fight or flight.
"Could I speak with you in my office please, Jet," Freed requested. The shift in Jet's jawline and the slight straightening of his back told Freed that Jet was ready for a fight.
The walk from the elevator to Freed's office was long, and Freed had to wonder how long it must have felt for Jet the day before, swirling with anger and annoyance and, if Freed wasn't deluding himself into thinking Jet saw him as a friend, a sense of betrayal. That made the guilt squirm harder in Freed's stomach. But he was going to make this right; or at least he'd do his best to try.
With the door closed firmly behind them, Freed took his seat behind his desk and gestured for Jet to take his own. Jet's leg was bouncing and his fingers twiddling. Jet was a fidgeter. A ball of energy. It must be hell to work in this office.
"Yesterday," Freed began, and suddenly, looking into Jet's eyes, the professional apology he had planned went out the window. "I behaved like a dick to you. I was unfair and presumptuous and put outward stresses onto you. I was rude, and I'm incredibly sorry."
Jet looked at him. His face portrayed nothing. Freed continued.
"For what it's worth, yesterday won't be removed from your designated vacation days, so you haven't lost any Holliday due to what I did."
"So I've got a full day on record without doing any work." Jet had muttered that. Maybe Freed wasn't meant to hear, but he had.
"No, your figures are entirely as they should be," Freed explained, and a look of panic flashed across Jet's face. Freed belatedly realised what that sounded like – like Freed had fudged the figures in a way that could come back to haunt them – and quickly spoke again. "I got your work done. I realised… fairly soon after you left that I was in the wrong, and that your professional reputation shouldn't be affected," his cheeks flushed a little, and he had no idea why. "I made sure all the scanning was done; you don't need to worry."
Jet looked at him. Stared him down. "What time d'you leave last night?"
"That's not important," Freed dismissed. He hadn't actually left at night. It had been a little after one in the morning. Saying that would be like pointing out a sacrifice he'd made, which wasn't fair. Recompense wasn't something that should end in pity.
"So I ain't in trouble, and I ain't behind on work, and I ain't missing a vacation day. That's all you wanted to tell me?"
"And that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did, and I promise it won't happen again."
Jet kept staring at him. Freed could only stare back. Jet was clearly expecting something, but Freed had no idea what that was. If Jet needed something to forgive Freed, then Freed would get it for him no questions asked, but he really had no clue what that thing might be. Maybe Jet sensed that, because he spoke again. "You not gonna explain what was stressing you out? That you had your boss breathing down your neck or whatever, and that's why you were being an asshat."
"I've found that an apology followed by an excuse tends to not be worth saying," Freed met Jet's gaze. "I'm sorry, I was wrong, no amendments needed."
And, rather heartbreakingly, Jet looked like he'd been struck. Like such a thing was so unfamiliar in his life that it was worthy of a shocked response. Like he didn't think he deserved it. Like it was so out of the realms of possibility for Freed to treat him like a human being. Like an equal.
Freed really had fucked up. And Jet really hadn't been treated right. It wasn't appropriate for Freed to quietly think that he could treat Jet right. He could make the man feel worthy of all the apologies in the world. He could make Jet smile that sharp toothed smile.
"Oh, right. Thanks."
Before dangerous thoughts could persist, Freed pushed on. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, laminated card. "This is also a gesture of good will, I hope. It tends to make people laugh and, given you like making fun of me when we're drinking, I thought you'd appreciate it."
He placed the card on his desk and let Jet pick it up. He saw the moment apprehension gave way to amusement.
"You look like a jackass," Jet grinned. "What the hell made you do that to yourself?"
"A drunken mistake, I'm afraid." Freed glanced down at his old ID card from about five years ago, with his green hair buzzed short and looking entirely ridiculous. He had a face that served long hair, and certainly not an army style buzzcut. It was a point of consistent ridicule among his friends that he'd done that, made worse by the fact he'd done it days before a job translating for the king of Lichtenstein, his most publicised job. "It's ridiculous, I know. Feel free to circulate it around the office should you feel the need."
"Nah, I'll keep it to myself."
"Really?"
"Not a fucking chance. Gotta make sure this gets around. You okay with me doin' a scan of this and sending out a company wide email, make sure everyone knows."
"Do as you wish," Freed laughed. "But, might I ask, are we good?"
Jet paused. "I think we're good. I'm gonna stew on it a little longer, I think, but I think we're good."
"I'm glad," Freed smiled. "I've taken too much of your time already, so feel free to leave."
"Yep, got work to do," Jet agreed, holding onto the ID card. "See you later Bossman."
"See you later."
Jet saluted to him, and Freed leant back in his chair with a small sigh. The dampening of his nerves hit him suddenly, and he placed his hands on the desk to stop them shaking. It had been far too long since he'd cared like this about something.
Jet had called him Bossman. That was enough for now. That was a promise that they'd get back to where they'd been, even if Jet was still a little raw and likely to make some negative assumptions about Freed for a while. He could understand that. He could live with that. So long as it ended up okay, that was fine.
A little trill came from his PC, and Freed glanced over to it. An email, sent to the entire company list. The little fucker had actually done it. Brat. Freed had to grin. He really did love being in Jet's aura; the chaos was wonderful.
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xwonderfuldeath · 1 year ago
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.o| It's a small world : XXII |o.
Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex
Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥
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His head was spinning, his eyes struggling to open as he tried to work out what was happening. Taehyung tried to move his hands, but the pain of the bonds made him moan softly, as he turned his head right, then left, to see where the hell he'd ended up. It was strange, his mouth pasty, his wrists aching, his head like a brick. The acrid taste on his lips made him slowly panic, his condition proving to him that he had consumed something illicit, which he would never have taken in his normal state, and Taehyung replayed the sequence of events in his head. He was at the festivals, Jimin was giving the best performance of all time, Jungkook had moved away for a second, a blink of an eye, before he felt something stick in his throat. Panic overcomes him, as he is now fully conscious, locked behind this thick glass cage, his eyes getting used to the strange darkness with difficulty. His heart sinks, painfully in his temples, as he searches for something he recognizes, to find out where he is, but he doesn't recognize anything.
“- Awake at last. Excuse this little… inconvenience, but it had to be done if I was to have a chance to interview you.
- You are… Damarro.
- I see my prestige precedes me. But I'll take you, call me Heisukei.”
He recognizes the man from the party, from his vacation at the chalet, the place is white, like a laboratory, somewhere underground. There was no resonance when neither of them spoke, and Taehyung took a breath before looking at him again. Heisukei was taller than Jungkook, or a normal Korean, which told him he must certainly be American, or European. He couldn't see him well in the half-light, hidden behind the large tubes. Taehyung wasn't sure he wanted to understand what was inside. He didn't even really want to be here, to be perfectly frank.
“- What do you want from me?
- Me? Not much. I have nothing against prestigious doctors like you. I even find you fascinating, a real waste when it comes to your decision to stop practicing altogether.
- I only stopped working for you.
- Exactly what I say, a waste.”
A thud startled him, as he saw a shadow pass by, two military-looking men forcibly dragging the hospital director away, under Taehyung's curious and questioning gaze, he was lost, not understanding what was happening, or where it was all going to lead him. Heisukei had this kind of terrifying smile, as he let the men shove the old man into a capsule.
“- Let me show you my work, Mr. Kim, so we can understand each other better, and have an adult conversation.”
With a wave of his hand, he tells the two men to start work, and they both move to one side of the tube, each grabbing one of the levers, before lowering it in perfect synchronization. A howl of pain passes the man, before a propeller noise is heard and Taehyung cries out, a mixture of pure horror and terror, trying to free himself to potentially help the man in his pain. The shredding noise finally stopped, as did the screams, before the large tubes, hitherto invisible because transparent, filled with the red liquid. The man had been transformed into an amont of flesh, leaving only his nectar. Horrified, Taehyung watched the scene as if in slow motion. The door opens, and all that's left inside are bits of bone, which Taehyung looks at Heisukei, trying to understand why he'd let him discover something so macabre.
“- Now that we're on the same wavelength, we're going to have a very interesting conversation about my companion.
- I have no idea what you're talking about.
- Come on, don't play that game, Doctor. Your life's at stake, you know?”
-x-
No matter how loud the music, Jungkook can't quite get into it. For the fifteenth time, he puts his phone to his ear, listening to the long beeps, before finally hearing the unpleasant voice of the answering machine. A long shiver of terror runs down his spine, and he tries again, looking around, trying to find a sound resembling a ringtone, but the place is too noisy, so he hears nothing but background music. An animated growl passes his frustrated lips, as Jungkook looks around again for a face he knows, before quickly approaching Min Yoongi's minty head.
“- Have you seen Taehyung?
- Nope. Not since just now. Why not?
- He's not answering his phone.
- Maybe he can't hear it?”
Yoongi looks at him, realizing that he clearly doesn't want to hear something like that, and pulls out his phone, trying to reach Jungkook's lover as well. Direct messaging, so he calls Jimin, looking for a less noisy corner to have a better conversation than with the bass noises. Several intonations are heard, before they hang up on him, and his eyebrows furrow, he tries again, but this time, nothing. No dial tone, just the answering machine directly, Jungkook can understand when Yoongi turns paler than average, that something's wrong.
“- What?
- Something's wrong .”
The realization of this information makes Jungkook pinch his lower lip as an expletive passes his lips, he grabs his phone with more fury, dialing the emergency number of their illegal little group, barking out his orders, as Hoseok comes in a little panicked, understanding that the three of them have the same problem without needing to really talk.
“No mercy. I don't want to hear it, the first one who finds him gets a good shot.”
-x-
The heavy silence buzzes in his ears, as Jimin takes the bucket of icy water over the fresh burns of torture, a grinding of teeth passes his lips, he can no longer really speak, nor answer, he barely straightens his eyes when his hair is pulled back, making him scrape the cold, soaked ground. The man in front of him glares at him as he punches him again, this time in the stomach, causing him to regurgitate the alcohol he'd consumed earlier in the evening.
“- Disgusting.
- Speak for yourself. You type like a little girl.
- Tch. Aren't you going to answer me? Your buddy spilled the beans a long time ago.
- Then why are you hitting me?”
The man loses patience with Jimin's attitude, and takes another blow, making him stagger. If he wasn't tied up with his wrists in the air, like a common animal, he'd already be rolling on the ground. But he could only take a few steps to the side, his head spinning as he tried to stay awake, watching his tormentor circle him like a predator. Jimin had woken up an hour before, in this icy room, and ever since, this creep had been giving him a hard time. Yet he remained sure of himself, making no comment on the man's questions, unwilling to answer any of the obviously stupid man's interrogations, because he would never hand over his friend, even if he had to die to do so. His eyes were cloudy, and he coughed up a little blood. He wasn't a doctor, but it was never a good sign to have something like that pass your lips. Jimin can't hold his head up.
“- You could be smart, and answer me, your death would be quicker you know?
- My death? Yours won't be so sweet.
- He'll never find you. Suga will never know about this.
- You're an idiot. He's probably circling the city already.”
The very idea of Yoongi looking for him makes him smile, even if he had to die, then he'd accept it, he wouldn't die without really loving, and remaining himself. He closed his eyes, terribly tired, as he could feel the man in front of him moving, his last thought before falling completely into a coma being that Suga must have been worried about him, and that he must have looked adorable. The bang of the gunshot being the last thing he can hear, not completely sure whether he's totally alive or not.
The pain in his head seems to have subsided as he finally regains consciousness, the bin of the machine to which he was attached by the drip, his eyes rolling to understand what's happening, as he can feel the arms around his aching body, and the doctor's voice, which he recognizes as Taehyung asking the patient to let some air.
“- Where am I… And Elyzabeth?
- Don't worry, everything's fine. Everything's taken care of.
- Settled?
- Heisukei is no more.”
Nodding, he tries to situate himself in time as he moves a little, to be more comfortable in bed. He was at Yoongi's home, he could recognize the familiar smell of the blankets against his back, before turning his head slowly and seeing what was around him, Taehyung was straight, he had a few bruises too, but he seemed to be doing fine, Yoongi looked like he was about to cry, while Jungkook was on the phone behind them. Elyzabeth wasn't there, so he looked for her a little before Taehyung spoke again.
“- She's gone to get some fresh water, relax now. Patients get better when they're relaxed.
- What happened…? Heisukei..? And the rest?”
Yoongi spoke up, they'd gone through all Heisukei's businesses, one by one, before finding where they'd brought them, taking down everything in their path. They'd arrived just in time for Jimin, his tormentor about to finish him off with a bullet, but Yoongi had been quicker. Jimin nodded again, still feeling the weight of fatigue. Closing his eyes gently as Taehyung embraced Jungkook, telling everyone to let him sleep. They were safe, all of them, and that was the best news of the day for him.
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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago
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I seriously don't get it. Like, you can be a fan of an actor or a director and it doesn't mean you automatically love every single movie they've ever been in or made. You can talk normally with other fans about what you loved and what you didn't. And *gasp* you might have different opinions because taste is subjective! And just because it's not your type of movie doesn't mean you won't give it a chance or not be excited about the next one.
Why is the attitude towards BTS so different? Hell, sometimes they don't even love the work they put out or change their minds on it as their tastes evolve. You can support and love JK and wish for his happiness and success without vibing with every single thing he does. And it's ok to talk to each other about it without it being classified as a personal attack on the artist. The whole point of art is to provoke thought and discussion!
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i think the reason why the attitude is different toward bts is bc kpop fandoms (and maybe this fandom especially) are toxic as hell 😭 the kpop fandom culture sucks and i think we can all agree on this. literally anything less than absolute worship is considered “hate” and (as you said) “a personal attack on the artist”, which i think is stupid as hell because ??? make it make sense. 😑
yeah i don’t know why it’s such a “controversial” thing to have an opinion that’s different than the majority of the fandom, an opinion that doesn’t include always screaming about how much you love bts and the thing they’re doing. i say bts but honestly i only ever see this kind of stuff happening with jk. 95% of the discourse i come across is jk discourse.
i am literally a jk stan. we all know that. if i love a thing he does, i’ll proudly say it. i can yell about how much i love Stay Alive all day long. you guys KNOW how much this blog used to revolve around jk. clearly i am not “out to get him” and i am not lurking in the shadows with my little rat hands waiting for him to release new content just so i can dunk on him. 😑
as a fan and a literal consumer of his music, i am allowed to have certain expectations. he doesn’t seem to be going down the direction that i would’ve liked, and that’s perfectly fine. you do you, boo 😗 if it’s not my taste, then it’s not my taste. but i’m still allowed to have my opinions on this and i’m still allowed to express them.
expressing my disappointment does not mean that i hate him or i don’t support him anymore. it’s as simple as that, but apparently even that is still a very hard pill for a lot of people to swallow. “but they see everything!” okay lol i can guarantee you (not you anon, just people in general) that bts are not creeping on my tumblr blog and taking notes of every single thing that i’m saying about them. even if they are, i can still guarantee you that they do not care lol. me not listening to a song/album literally will not affect their streams at all. it will not affect their revenue in any way. jk is still a multi millionaire whether or not i listen to or buy jjk1. he does not give a shit about me because he does not know i exist lol.
with that said, a big reason why i am PISSED is because of the fans. jk doesn’t care about me, do you think he’s crying in his room because i said i didn’t like a song? do you think that he - a 26-year-old grown ass adult and global superstar with 10 years of experience under his belt - cannot handle criticism? do you think he’s a baby in an adult man’s body or something that you feel like you personally have to defend him against any and all criticism? that you have a duty to make sure that he doesn’t hear anything less than positive that people have to say about him?
if your answer is yes, then, well, idk what else to say to you lol.
but if your answer is no, and you still come after people for having different opinions, then lol sorry i think you’re weird 🤷‍♀️ why can i only speak my mind when it’s something along the lines of “OH MY GOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH. ALBUM OF THE CENTURY”? when i say something as simple as “i’m a little disappointed by this. this isn’t something i really vibe with,” i’m considered a hater, an anti, and told to shut the fuck up? why can i only say what i really think when it aligns with what the majority of the fandom is thinking?
i am not attacking jk by not being into his music. i am not attacking jk stans by having a different opinion than they do. i am literally just being honest about what i think, my opinions which only affect me. what is so hard to understand about that lol
another point that i would like to touch on is when people say things like “but why can’t you let people enjoy it?” erhm. i’m not going into people’s inboxes and screaming in people’s faces “I DON’T LIKE IT, SO WHY DO YOU? YOU SHOULDN’T LIKE IT EITHER!” 😑 if my not liking the music ruins your fun, if it genuinely hurts and upsets you, then maybe you should take a step back from all of this and reevaluate. if you are hurt by an online stranger having a different opinion than you about something as simple as MUSIC (which is subjective to everyone’s personal taste) made by someone you will never know, then i don’t think the internet is for you, honestly.
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chim-chim1310 · 2 years ago
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I'm also looking forward to tae's album. That man has a good taste and unlike jungkook, he's classy and has more dignity. Idk if he's going to be backed by 🛴 but I doubt it and for sure he won't get the same numbers as jungkook. I'll be rooting for him though and I'll be preparing my 🍿 to see jjks and kths fighting. Tkkers will be losing their minds lmao but then again they love tae more than jungkook
I do like some of tae's songs. And I do think he would do good considering his fanbase. But I also think his songs are not to everyone's taste. So I wonder if it will have a large impact globally. But if he decided to release something other than his normal style then maybe the song would be more popular. We'll know after we hear the song. But he hasn't teased any new music nor has he gone anywhere to work on music, no studio pic either. So idk if his album is even coming out or not. Or if it will be after jk's album.
Cause I thought that after seven, tae will release his album and then after that jk will release his album but tae hasn't shown any sign of releasing new music yet. He's just doing that fashion thing.
I've also noticed something about taehyung is that he is not a saint. I think no one in bts is a saint.
In my opinion if tae will be offered an opportunity like jungkook got.... I think he wouldn't think twice before accepting it. If he's getting an opportunity to get big, he would definitely grab onto it.
I've noticed that taehyung likes to be a socialite but I have never felt his passion for music. And also I feel like he's a bit........ detached from the group. Like I think he's not really emotionally attached to the bts. Like yeah he loves them and they're his family bit I think if he has the chance to make solo big or be in the group then I think he would chose to go solo. And honestly any smart man would choose to go solo if they'll be given an opportunity like that lol. But then again scooter is a snake and not someone to be trusted.
But I could be wrong about tae. I do think I will like his album.
I do think that his album will not be promoted like jungkook's but it will definitely be treated better than jimin's album. He wouldn't face sabotage. I think hybe and scooter had decided to invest on jk and are hell bent to establish him.
But I wouldn't be surprised if taehyung will accept such an opportunity if it's given to him.
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talenlee · 2 months ago
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March 2025 Wrapup!
It has been a fraught month full of happenstance and circumstance, and I sit here, at the end of the month of March with a platter of articles and stories to share with you, in case you missed some of it. This simple stop is meant to give you a chance to see articles you may have missed and gives me a chance to reflect on what I did in an otherwise very busy month.
First of all, the articles (and videos!) I put out for the Game Pile:
So Clover, a truly fantastic board game. This article came out as a result of the story of playing it with one of my niblings and their friend group at a birthday party – and the story of watching game rules help minds lock into an activity was so delightful.
Star Realms Frontiers And Such, where I took old articles about Star Realms and compiled them into a video. This video was both easy to make and a lot of fun to do, because it involved busting open a game I’d deliberately set aside.
High Magic Lowlives, which is part of my ongoing effort to engage more with indie tabletop roleplaying games, which I guess I’ve been doing now for over a year. This game does things that make no sense to me, and it does it with a fascinating confidence.
Flocking Hell, a delightful early access game about puzzling through limited resources to maximise sheep, which I got exposed to thanks to its creator reaching out and asking me my opinion. This was, in my opinion, tons of fun and I recommend you check out the video, then check out the game, and if you’re a developer, send me your games so I can look at them.
Minor trivia, March has five mondays, which means we got five Story Pile articles this month:
Gunpowder Milkshake, a movie that I watched because a friend described it as their OC’s favourite movie, and oh man that OC has great taste. I really liked Gunpowder Milkshake as a great grungy action movie, and I wanted to talk about it just to shout ‘hey, have you seen this cool thing?’
Lower Decks (Again), which now it’s over, I think might be one of my favourite Star Trek series. It certainly has more good episodes vs bad episodes than the other really strong Star Trek series I watched all of, Deep Space 9.
My Adventures With Superman Season 1, a take on the Superman narrative that does two interesting new things, which is, addressing the messed up way Superman relates to his friends, and also, making Lois Lane a person. I really liked this season and I look forward to watching more of it!
Neru: Way of the Martial Artist, A failed Shounen Jump manga that got cancelled after a few dozen issues and which I look at and can say ‘hey, it’s not actually that bad, but also, really, its competitors aren’t in a lot of ways, meaningfully better.’
Orblivion, by the Orb, and oh yeah hey this is weird! This is a weird album of music I don’t normally listen to that left me laying on the sofa with headphones on going: what the heck do I say about this.
We have some entries into the Dev Diary, which have been complicated and slowed a little because of the circumstances of the month:
Instructions
Blood and Bones
Finite Space
Adversariality
What about other articles? Let’s start with some game development articles. I talk about the idea of form factor, a game development term that I may throw around too easily. Starting on the seeds of my article The Hater’s Guide To Generative Media, I made an article that laid out a case for how Generative Media is now part of life and what we do with that. And I got into a tizzy about the idea of defining media literacy and how people use the term in a way I find frustrating to do, especially as a term extracted from academic contexts and then its meaning and use discarded for … what ends?
Oh that’s a bit bleak, what about Dungeons & Dragons stuff? That’s way easier to talk about! There’s an article about the way that the alignment system of 3rd edition D&D is full of invisible tripwires and has fundamental problems, and the way that weapons in 4th edition are built around a worldbuilding note. I also looked into the idea of dragon regulations in fantasy settings, where if there’s something like a dragon in the world, people are going to have regulations about it. Finally, and the biggest article of its type for the month, I did a long-form writeup of the Drow Demense in Cobrin’Seil, which is five thousand words talking about a city, and a way of handling the Drow that you can transplant from my world into yours and hopefully have Drow that are a bit less weird about women and an underdark that’s a little more clear about why it’s weird (but not about women).
I try to make no more than one Magic: The Gathering article each month, and this month it was an examination of the set Aetherdrift specifically in terms of the different critters that the game thinks you can ride around on, or maybe have as some kind of pet. This presentation I put together and then shared with Fox, so enjoy a Powerpoint Part of two people. I wrote about the way art is expressed in The Locked Tomb, a world where there’s huge constraints on what people can even try and do with their lives, and how art just naturally bubbles out. Transformers is also a place with weird culture, and part of that culture is the way we find meaningful stories in its silliest spaces, and that was a great chance to talk about Battletrap, a character I love who is a byproduct of extremely weird and silly character choices. Finally, I made an article explaining the different parallel gameplay spaces of Smogon and VGC for Pokemon and how they relate to entry hazards.
I also said that Christianity venerates being stupid.
I also made a Locked Tomb fan t-shirt design, here! Check it out! It’s a reference to the character Noodle, a dog, who is the best boy, and who I am confident will survive and have a lovely time because how bad can things get in The Locked Tomb?
If you like this design and want to put it on something, you can get a sticker here, and a version for putting on dark colours here.
At the point I write this I have been through a real weird wringer of a semester. Basically, my workplace had an organisational problem that they didn’t address over the break (because they couldn’t), and the result was that to start the semester, I was rostered on for about three weeks’ worth of teaching. Obviously this presented problems and there was a chance there’d be no work after that point — which was a huge source of anxiety. This has since changed (hoorah) and I am now duly employed until the end of the semester (the end of June).
The life of a university tutor is not one that promises infinite stability, though, and I did know that going in. Still, this semester has had a really awkward start, and that came through in some very real forms of anxiety.
In other news, though, this semester has been really good! Teaching students is always energising and I really like talking to them. We’ve got some new challenges this year in particular – the first year of kind of fully-fledged, everyone’s-used-to-it generative media tools where the novelty has come off and people have their opinions about their practical function. We also have some really cool opinions coming through from students – like how thoughtful they can be about the whole situation with generative tools.
It’s just heck on birthdays, though; my mother, father, and nephew have birthdays week to week to week in March, which meant my free time was a tiny bit squished, and then, know what the day after tomorrow is? My sister in law’s! It’s a whole chain of birthdays right in the March period. I wonder what was so exciting about June all those years ago.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
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alastor-simp · 1 year ago
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Soothing Sounds📻🌧- Alastor x Reader Oneshot
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Thank you @itsmskeisha for the request. Hope you enjoy
"UGHHH! Satan damn it!" you exclaimed as your pillow ended up on the other side of the room. It was 3:00 AM in the morning, which was the witching hour, haha how ironic, and you still couldn't fall asleep. Your name was Y/N and you were currently staying at the Hazbin Hotel that was run by Lucifer's own daughter, Charlie. She had found you a month ago on the day of the extermination, and you happened to have arrived in hell at the worse possible time. Thankfully, she was able to help you avoid the angels and offered you a place to stay at the hotel, seriously how sweet is she?! Nevertheless, you adapted to life at the hotel and got along with a lot of the other inhabitants like Angel and Niffty. However, after being in hell for a full month, you assumed that catching zzz's would be easy peasey, but it wasn't. Heaving a sigh, you got out of your bed and decided to make a trip to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of warm milk would help you relax and fall asleep.
Opening the door slowly, you slowly tip-toed down the hallway, as you didn't want to wake up the others, especially Husk, as that poor cat man needed his sleep for those hangovers. As you made your way into the kitchen, you noticed the lights were turned on along with the sounds of music playing. Peeking your head out, you were surprised to see Alastor, cooking while dressed in his pajamas. He was stirring something inside a big pot while he swayed to the music that was coming from his microphone staff, that was leaning against the wall. Feeling rude to be staring at him, you softly knock against the door to get his attention and whispered a "Hi Al." Alastor's ears perked, as he turned his head towards you, with his signature grin on his face: "Ah! Salutations, my dear! Grabbing a late night snack perhaps?" His head tiled at you, as his hand was continuing to stir the pot that was in front of him. "I can't sleep sadly, so I figured some warm milk would help me.", you said as you walked closer to Al, with a small smile. "Oh dear! Don't worry darling! I can help prepare that for you!". You were about to protest, saying he didn't have to do that, but he already snapped his fingers and a pot had appeared on the stove, and milk hovered over it as it magically poured itself in. Alastor told you it was going to be a few minutes and gestured you over to one of the chairs to have a seat. Thanking him, you headed to one of the seats, and sat down. Alastor turned back to what he was making, humming softly to himself, while also keeping an eye on the milk. The aroma in the air smelled heavenly as it was coming from whatever Alastor was making. You asked Alastor what he was cooking as it smelled delicious. Turning his head back to look at you, the smile on his face got even wider: "Gumbo, my dear! A Louisiana delicacy! Care for a taste? Be warned, the spice will knock your socks off, HAHAHA!" Giggling at Alastor antics, you sadly refused as eating something spicy would probably wake you up more but you thanked Alastor for offering you to try it. Al was deflated a bit, given his ears dropped a bit, but he quickly said he would save some for you tomorrow to enjoy. Alastor then quickly asked why weren't you able to fall asleep, and questioned if it was because of screaming meemies. Shaking your head, you leaned back against your chair and stared at the ceiling: "No, its not nightmares. I can only fall asleep if there is some rain sounds playing. I use to play them on my phone when I was alive, but my phone sadly broke when I fell and I don't really have the funds now to get one. Charlie has offered, but I declined as she already allowed me to stay here at the hotel. Plus with it being hell, the chances of it raining here are VERY slim."
The whole time you were explaining your situation to Al, his heart ached more and more for you. How frustrating he thought for you. Normally, he would cackle in laughter at seeing someone stressed or annoyed with something, but he didn’t feel that with you. He was an insomniac himself, but he was able to deal with it after spending an eternity in hell, but a darling like you shouldn’t have to go through this. Lowering the heat on the stove, as to prevent the gumbo and milk from burning, Alastor made his way over to you. Not noticing him walking closer, you jumped in shock as you felt two hands on your cheeks, pulling your head that was pointed up, to come down and look at Al. Words caught in your throat as you stared at Al, his ruby red eyes gazing into your soul. His fingers moved a bit on your cheek, touching the spot under your eye, most likely examining your dark circles. “It pains me to see you so fatigued, darling. If my powers could extend to that length and cause a rain storm for you, I would do it without question.” Well, that made your heart skip a beat, you never expected Al to have a soft side like this. Smiling softly, you thanked Al and told him he was sweet. Staying like that for a few minutes, Alastor jumped up and rushed back to the stove, turning off the milk and placing it into a cup. He sprinkled some cinnamon on top then came back and handed it to you. Thanking him, you grabbed the cup and stood up from the chair. You told him that you would drink it in your room and hoped it would help you a bit. Alastor nodded and wished you a pleasant sleep as he watched you leaved the kitchen, leaving him only with his thoughts and gumbo.
***NEXT DAY***
The milk had actually worked and you were able to fall asleep, but you only slept for 4 hours which wasn’t enough for your body to function properly. The lack of sleep was affecting your day and the droopy feeling in your eyes was becoming more frequent. Niffty noticed straight away that you were tired and said you should take a nap, but you shook your head as you didn’t want to mess up your whole sleep schedule, but you thanked her for looking out for you, and gave her a hug which she happily accepted. The day went by quick and was slowly drawing to a close, thank Satan, but you knew that heading to bed and trying to fall asleep was gonna be yet again another challenge. Sluggishly walking down the halls, eyes barely able to stay open, you didn’t noticed the person walking in front of you, and bumped right into their chest. “Ah, I’m sorry.”, you apologized and looked up to see that you had bumped into Alastor. "Quite alright, my dear! I was just looking for you!" Alastor said, as he gazed down at you, smiling wide. He raised his fingers up and snapped them. Out of nowhere, a little portal opened on the top of his hand, and out came a wooden vintage radio. "This is for you my dear! This radio should help you with your sleeping problems!". Handing the radio towards you, you grabbed it from his hand, and looked at Al, feeling a bit confused. "Um, thanks? You didn't have to get me this, plus I don't think electric swing will help me fall asleep.", you said, smiling shyly up at Alastor, who's smile got even bigger. "HAHA! Not to worry my dear! This radio is special! Well! Time for bed! Sleep well, darling!" He then disappeared into a shadow, and flew away from you, leaving you by yourself. Gazing at the radio, you wondered what was so special about it, but you just shrugged and made your way back to your room.
Sitting down on your bed, you placed the radio on the night stand. It was very different to the radio you use to have at home when you were alive, but you knew how old-fashioned Alastor was, and how much he detested today's modern technology. Pressing one of the buttons, the light inside the radio began to glow a soft yellow, and static emerged from it. As you turn the dials, the static began to thin out and what sounded like slow jazz began to play. As the sound got clearer, you froze in shock from what you heard. As the jazz was playing, there was also rain sounds playing as well. Your eyes got teary, as you didn't think this was possible. How was Alastor able to do this?! HOW?! Your heart began to beat rapidly at the sweet gesture that Al gave you. "Thank you, Alastor", you softly said, as you turned the lamp off, and laid down, placing your head on the pillow. Soothing sounds of the rain and jazz filled the room, creating a relaxing sensation as your body became absorbed in it, and pretty soon, you fell asleep. Unbeknownst to you, there was a deer shaped shadow, standing in the corner of your room, it watched you with soft eyes, whispering "your welcome, y/n", before fading away.
Here is the sound that would be playing on the radio -->
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nashvillehq · 2 years ago
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name: Sid Thorne gender & pronouns: Cis Man | He/him age & date of birth: 30 years old | October 30th, 1992 neighborhood: Downtown time living in nashville: 12 years occupation: Singer, Songwriter, Co-Owner of Bad Omen Music
BACKGROUND.
TW: drugs, death, cancer, overdose, addiction
Among the burning buildings and sirens that accompanied Devil's Night, Annie Thorne was giving birth to her first and last born child, Sid. Divorced before he reached corporeal realization, Ethan Wilson didn't meet his son until he was three days old. This absentee pattern would continue for the majority of Sid's childhood. He was unique in knowing his father as bad dad, Ethan's other three children knew him as a doting father who was there for them whenever they needed it. This separation was the first of many things that left a bitter taste in Sid’s mouth, leading him to harbor anger and spite later in life. As child, however, his mother’s love made up for everything his father couldn’t give.
From as far back as he can remember, he’s been a performer. Whether it be singing songs or dressing up and performing skits for an audience of action figures and his mom or practicing in front of a mirror. Music was his passion, his coping skill. Annie tried to get him in sports, he played baseball until he was in his teens but nothing quite stuck like the need to be creative. He hated school, it was forced hell for him because he was never a normal kid. He painted his nails black, wore eyeliner, clothes never fit right because they were thrifted or hand me downs, he struggled to follow lessons, and he was always getting into some kind of trouble. Between the rough neighborhood he lived in, his absentee father failing him, and lack of social life from school, Sid developed a deep seeded anger and resentment for the world around him. This led to a lot of fights and eventual further isolation from the crowd.
He did find comfort in some things, however. Writing, singing, and playing music was his greatest outlet (along with listening to it of course). Sid found comfort in melodies and lyrics that no one else could ever seem to offer him. He put his emotions into songs and art, worked relentlessly on fine tuning his abilities from the small room in their apartment. When his mom was diagnosed with cancer, he changed it to writing things for her - coming up with jokes to see her smile. The disease took her quick, and with that last bit of light gone from his life he felt no need to stick around in Detroit anymore. He took off to Memphis to live with his cousin. There he met he met another musician and told them the vision of the band he wanted to create. Quickly they became best friends and moved to Nashville where they would have a better chance at fulfilling their dreams. They formed the Crimson Crypt and immediately started making music, playing gigs, and grinding their way through the underground. After a year or two of this, they finally had a song that made some headway and were picked up by a label.
The industry is hard and there’s no doubt about that. Barely eighteen with little to no social skills and thrust into an environment with no experience was rough. They were on tour constantly, opening for bigger names, playing festivals, and small gigs throughout the country. There were dedicated fans that loved them but for all that love they were also met with a lot of hate. Sid and the band kept pushing through, trying to not let it weigh on them and devoting extra time with the fans that did like them. Far too early into all of it, Sid started becoming a garbage disposal for any and all substances. It was all he could find that helped with the anxiety and compulsive thoughts. Anything to numb the pain of loss, hate, and his own insecurities. It didn’t, however, stop the anger and often it amplified it. He would start fighting and arguing with haters at every show, giving them attention instead of playing for those there to see them. That’s what they were all doing at that time, though. Living fast and playing hard, so it was hard to see that it was becoming a problem.
Somewhere in the mess of everything, a new beacon of light came into his life. He met Juliet at one of the shows he was playing. Some no name news outlet for the scene was interviewing him and he spotted her. Sid left mid-interview to meet her and one smile from her had him hooked. Quickly she became his person and integrated into the little Crimson Crypt family. Though it didn’t stop his substance abuse issues, it was her helping the band get through to him that made him see it was becoming a problem. He tried to stop many times, especially when they went out on tour but the withdrawal only made him worse, getting into fights with people in the crowd or at bars that dared to show any kind of dislike for him or the band. Sometimes he went out of his way to start a fight with someone for simply looking at him the wrong way. The withdrawals and behavior got so bad that the tour manager eventually encouraged his drug use so he could get on stage and get through the remaining dates. Unfortunately it was all cut short when he got on stage ranting about nonsense and halfway through the set he forgot his own lyrics, mumbling and incoherent until he collapsed.
When he woke up in the hospital, Juliet was there and it was the worst he ever felt. He’d been blinded by all the spite that he didn’t see what he had right in front of him: the love of his life that wasn’t scared away by anything, a band that had bonded beyond friendship into family, and fans that adored the music he wrote and the shows his band put on. They broke their deal off with the record label, took a hiatus so he could go to rehab and clean up, and they started over. Together with a couple of other bands slighted by the labels available to them, they formed their own record label and called it Bad Omen Music since they all came together in low points of their life or careers.
Things got better for the band and for Sid. He married Juliet, and after ten years they’re still going strong. The band and the record label continue to see success. Sid’s addiction and anger issues are still a work in progress, but today he recognizes those problems and continues to put effort into getting better with it all the time. He also recognizes what he has instead of focusing on what he doesn’t. His life is good and now he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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kandyrezi · 2 years ago
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[ ♡ / ♢ ] Android!Funtime Foxy x Reader hcs.
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- : - : - : - : - : - : -
» funtime foxy is overly-dramatic, androgynous, and a bit of a diva.
» he loves performing for children, but he becomes very shy if he has to interact with others or if he’s on stage with the other animatronics. but if there are no children to entertain during the night, then he’ll perform a show for the one-man audience; meaning you. 
» even if you ask him to do something as ridiculous as the macarena, the spinning starts before you can even finish your sentence while he exclaims, “oh, what a fun choice!” (there is no spinning in the macarena dance. he doesn’t even know what that is.)
» funtime foxy is normally reserved, and somewhat impassive around other animatronics.
» can’t resist checking himself out in literally every mirror he passes by. you just have to deal with it. he’s one of those guys who just can’t stop running his hand through his hair all the time and fiddling with it.
» he likes sewing clothes. he’s quite proficient at it, too.
» it’s normally not your job, but he lets you put eyeliner on him before one of his shows - actually, he wants it to be you instead of one of the other workers.
» you’ve tried to ask if you can give him a different name to differentiate him from his counterparts at fazbear’s pizzeria and fredbear’s diner, but he refused, preferring ‘foxy’ as his real name.
» when it comes to strangers, he tends to have the behavior of a frightened, rabid dog whose bite hurts like hell and bleeds like a water fountain. for a fox-type of android, he has some pretty wicked sharp teeth. don’t try to sneak up on him to play the ‘guess who’ game by covering his eyes from behind, because there’s a real chance of him  accidentally violently lashing out in panic. he wouldn’t ever forgive himself should he hurt you in any capacity.
» he’s isolated from the outside world, so introduce him to new music and broadway musicals. reciting the same song and dance for the children becomes droll after a while, so he’d really like what you would show to him.
» seriously, if you’re just sitting, chilling on the floor with your ipod, he’ll saunter his way over to you and make himself comfortable in your lap. his audio receptors can pick up on the sound waves from the earbuds just fine, but you’ll end up sharing/wearing them with him anyway.
» he has a particular fondness for britney spears and green day, but his favorite song would be mr. brightside. you’re a little confused in his taste for music, but you don’t judge.
» he has a knack for making people mad for the fun of it. you’re not sure if he does it intentionally, or by accident just with his over-the-top personality.
» funtime foxy has feelings for you long before he’ll have the guts to let you know. he’ll flirt and dance around his feelings, but he’s too shy to actually be upfront and honest.
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