#seriously so fucking pissed off right now

[queer-froggit]

i'm ending it here because i'm boutta be here all day lol

ramble under the cut!!!!

lust's friend group is very tiny because everyone judges him for his job, but they're also all sanses so they're like "eh, not my problem" and really just ignore him, and even besides them lust has to work to get people to respect him. horror and lust are frenemies because they HATED each other at first sight- horror was very vocal about his prejudices and lust doesn't take shit from anybody. however, they're both old men just trying to get through their hell of a day without killing themselves, and they find common ground in that (same thing with lust and cross, except for them it's more lust teaching cross how to take himself seriously and turning into rivals instead) in my interpretation, lust dated a lot of people before realizing he was aro, with blue being his longest relationship. a lot of shit happened, but they're besties now.

horror and wine are frenemies because lthough they relate to ecah other, they do it in a "i pity you way", which pisses them both off. horror could never work for the royal guard, and i like to think horror takes his brother to move in with farm after leaving nightmare. it's basically saejun teaching him how to be a person again, and i think geno and farm would also make nice friends, since "old men who have finally learned to be content with what they have" trope. speaking of geno, i think he HATES reaper, like hate hate. i still haven't read aftertale, my only sources are analysis and pages out of order, but it just feels right to say? reaper likes pissing people off, so he sees geno as a pal because of this hate.

reaper and wine are dreams mentors, since reaper was supposed to have an appearance in dreamtale. reaper is more of a "using to learn your god powers" mentor while wine is "using your societal power", but they basically teach him that not everyone is going to want to be buddy buddy, and that's not something he should see as a failure (since they both have gone through the horrors). wine sees black as a more upbeat version of himself, but nox is always trying to be an opp, so he sees to reason to be friends. also they all hate fell because they think he's lazy and all bark yet no bite lol.

dust and fell are obviously friends in canon, but i feel like they especially relate because of their feeling of being trapped in hell and having to be guarded all the time (they're SO 30 for 30 by sza coded it's ridiculous), and if not romantic, i think that feeling can get familial. horror sees fell as a fake though, because he thinks underfell is just "undertale but they say fuck", so he thinks fell is all talk while he knows he wouldn't survive a DAY in horrortale (no one would), but dust and horror are friends, so horror forces himself to tolerate fell and give him advice about surviving (but more in a condescing tone).

sci and fell are a secret third thing because i could see them being siblings, rival friends or romantic (curse you cpau) so idk. same thinf with wine and cross because they're both royal guards who have gone through dictatorships, so they should relate to each other, but tehy're both bitches so they would probably be enemies, but them sparring would be so perfect???? maybe like a "my mentor is a bitch but it's to train me to do better", which works perfectly because cross is always trying to get people to see him as a superior, and wine always feels superior (but it's to do the same thing as cross), so wine talking down to him riles him up enough to try and beat him, and they can both let their stress out when they spar :) (they eventually realize that they've been living in a dictatorship where rheir leader has been incredibly selfish, don't worry)

swap and blueberror... idk how to explain it. i think they're very jinx and ekko coded. blueberror is the more hyper and blunt version of swap, and swap has to calm him down sometimes, but they would be besties because they bounce off of each other 👍

nightmare and ink are colleagues beacuse i said so :) ink is nightmare's equivalent of people watching video essays as background noise. also nightmare wanted to study fresh because he sees him as an anomaly (someone whose emotions he can't read, yet feels uneasy around him, depsite not knowing who he is), but then learned like one thing about him and decided not to open that can of worms. fresh just thinks nightmare is weird.

i think that's it... thank you for the chart sign!

Ship chart but it’s not a ship chart it’s a friendship/found family/QPR chart

[squiddyfics]

get gone

namgyu x f!reader

description: namgyu’s long hours spent at the club, wasting his life away, have gotten to you. you finally decide to leave him, but it doesn’t hurt to say goodbye first.

18+ minors dni

warnings: nsfw, angst, drugs mentioned, unprotected piv, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation

a/n: happy valentine's day hehe

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

He broke his promise.

Namgyu's shift at the club always ends at two in the morning, but he's never home when he's supposed to be. Whenever he does finally return, his eyes are bloodshot and his mood is sour.

You couldn't stand by and watch him ruin his life, destroying his physical and mental health each weekend as he delves into a world of illicit substances and people who don't give a fuck about whether he lives or dies.

That's why you made him swear to stop staying at the club past his shift. You respect that he has a job to do, but beyond that, there's no reason for him to stay out and slowly kill himself.

Last week, he actually stuck to his word, which was a pleasant surprise. It made you hopeful that he was finally turning things around, for once prioritizing his life with you over cheap thrills.

But now it's three a.m., and he's nowhere to be seen. You run your hands over your face, attempting to stay awake. You won't be set at ease until you see him walk through the door. Each night he doesn't come home on time is a night you spend worrying that he's finally succumbed to the consequences of his actions, leaving you alone in the world.

He never texts you back on these nights, either. You open your phone and click on your text thread with him, fruitlessly hoping that things might be different tonight. Of course not; your messages remain unanswered.

You can't keep doing this anymore, can't keep caring about a man who doesn't care about himself. Up until now, you've stuck by his side, scared that if you left him he'd spiral even further. Enough is enough, though. You have a life to live, and without spending so much of your time stressing about Namgyu's well-being, you'd be much freer.

These are your last thoughts before you pass out on the couch, unable to force yourself to stay awake any longer.

The sound of keys in the door wakes you back up. When you open your eyes, it's lighter in the apartment; the sun is beginning to rise. You check the time on your phone.

6:09.

Namgyu opens the door and looks surprised to see you in the living room. You meet his eyes with a glare.

"Thanks for finally gracing me with your presence," you snap.

"Chill," he says, and the word sends a surge of anger coursing through you. "I just spent a few extra hours networking."

"Networking?" you scoff. "Is that what you call getting fucked up and partying with junkies?"

"I made hella tips," he says. "This group of super-rich dudes said they'd keep giving me money as long as I could convince the bottle-service girl to sit with them."

"Oh, okay, so now you're pimping out your coworkers. That makes me feel so much better."

He throws his keys down on the table much harder than necessary. "Are you seriously mad that I'm making money? Would you rather we get fucking evicted?"

"I'm mad that you broke my trust!" you shout back. "You were supposed to leave at two, Namgyu. You promised."

He kicks off his shoes and storms toward you. "You think I want to be out for twelve hours straight? I'm doing this for us. I would've thought you'd be grateful, but I guess that's expecting too much of you."

"Oh, fuck you." You laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "Don't try to spin this as if doing lines in the club bathroom is somehow for my sake."

"I'm playing the game," he says. "This is the world I work in; this is what you signed up for when you started dating me."

"Well, I'm done now. I'm done."

He pulls the sleeves of his slightly oversized dress shirt over his hands. Normally you'd find this cute, but right now it's just pissing you off.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm telling you I can't do this anymore," you say. "This isn't how I want to live."

"You don't mean that." He shakes his head. "You haven't slept. Let's go to bed and talk about this in the morning."

"Motherfucker, it is the morning," you spit, gesturing to the sunrise outside your window. "And I mean every word of what I'm saying to you right now. I can't stay with you; not when this is the path you're choosing for yourself."

Suddenly Namgyu's apathetic expression morphs into one of concern, and he's on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands. "No, baby. You don't need to leave. This was the last time, I swear."

"You swore the same thing the other week, but that didn't seem to mean much to you."

"It's different this time," he says, rubbing his thumbs over your hands as if that will fix anything. "I understand now. I know you don't really want to go, so let's just talk this through, yeah?"

"You didn't even have the decency to send me a text." Your voice is smaller now. "I can't spend my nights wondering if you'll make it home in one piece. It's killing me."

"I'll change."

"It's too late," you say. "I've made up my mind."

Still kneeling in front of you, Namgyu hugs your waist, pressing his cheek against your stomach. "You can't leave me. You can't."

God, he's so fucking pathetic.

“Get off of me,” you say, but he only squeezes you tighter.

“You’re not leaving. You’re not leaving.” He says it like a prayer.

“Get the fuck up,” you tell him. “This is just sad.”

He does get up, but instead of walking away, he leans over you, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips. Despite how angry you are, you kiss him back.

He puts his hands on your waist and pulls you up so you're standing too. Your own hands find his face, fingers tracing over the features you've come to know so well, the features you'll be saying goodbye to.

As he guides you to the bedroom, still kissing you, you break apart just enough to say, "This doesn't change anything."

Namgyu throws you down on the bed and climbs on top of you, his lips and hands laying claim to every part of your body. He’s always been physically affectionate, but he’s touching you even more now, with the ravenous passion of someone who knows this could be the last time.

He kisses your neck in just the right spot, and grips your breasts with just the right amount of pressure, perfectly riding the line between pain and pleasure. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he makes you feel, but you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

"How could you give this up?" he mutters against your skin. "No one knows your body like I do. It'll never be this good with anyone else."

You know it's true, but you don't want to think about that right now. Instead, you decide to show him what he'll be missing out on, everything he lost due to the consequences of his own reckless actions. You reach down and wrap your hand around the bulge in his pants, squeezing lightly.

He reacts to your touch instantly, rocking into you as curses fall from his lips. He grasps at the hem of your shirt, urging it off of you. "I need you."

One by one, each piece of clothing separating you and Namgyu from one another is tossed aside, until there's no barrier between you. He grinds against you, sliding his shaft along your wet slit. His cock twitches at the moan he elicits from you.

Given his obvious desperation, you expect him to fuck you without hesitation. You're surprised when he lowers his face between your legs, kissing your inner thighs.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as he licks up your slit, taunting you. You attempt to push his head to the right spot, but he's taking his sweet time. By the time his lips encircle your clit, you're already bucking and moaning like a madwoman.

"Fuck, Namgyu," you breathe.

Your reaction spurs him on, and he pushes two fingers inside you, fucking you with his hand while he continues to suck on your clit. There's no warning; you're climaxing in record time, falling apart beneath him as your high racks your body in violent waves.

Namgyu doesn't give you even a second to recover. You're still panting, your walls still clenching as he pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean before raising himself back up and slamming into you.

You cry out, but he silences you with a kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, all your senses in overdrive as he fucks you mercilessly.

"Oh god, Namgyu, hold on, I'm—" but you're cut short as another orgasm rips through your body.

You grip his hips, attempting to still him, to ease the pressure on your sensitive core, but he's relentless. He pounds into you at a shocking pace, and the overstimulation causes tears to well up in your eyes.

"Who else is gonna do this for you?" he asks through gritted teeth. "Who else is gonna fuck you until you can't think straight?"

You shake your head, unable to respond; the pleasure is overwhelming.

"Fucking answer me."

Between moans, you manage to gasp out, "No one."

Your words send him over the edge, and he finishes deep inside you with a guttural growl.

A moment later, he’s collapsing on the bed beside you. He drapes an arm and leg over you in one final weary effort to keep you by his side.

After taking a minute to catch your breath, you slip out from under his grasp and stand up. You clean yourself up quickly, then start getting dressed.

“What are you doing?” Namgyu asks, pulling on his boxers.

“I told you, I’m leaving.”

You grab a suitcase and open up the drawers of your wardrobe, stuffing clothes inside. Namgyu shoots up and rushes to your side frantically. Each time you move to grab a handful of clothes, he takes a pile of them back out of your suitcase, shoving them haphazardly back into the drawer.

“Stop it!” you shout, but he continues to unpack your suitcase, trapping you in an endless cycle. “You’re acting like a child. Let me leave or I’m calling the fucking police.”

He ceases for a moment to laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

He steps back then, finally seeming to understand the gravity of the situation. He sits down on the bed, watching as you gather up your belongings.

You grab a smaller bag and take it to the bathroom, throwing your toiletries inside. Once you’ve gotten all the necessities together, you take what’s left of your life and head down the hallway.

You hear his quick footsteps on the floor behind you, but you don’t turn around.

“Wait,” he says, his voice cracking. “Wait, please. Don’t leave me. I love you.”

You swallow hard, but you still don’t look at him. Seeing his face will only make it harder to go, and you know this is what you need to do. Without another word, you open the door and shut it behind you.

Maybe one day Namgyu will pull himself together, and maybe then a life with him will be possible. Until then, you can’t keep putting yourself through the torture of loving him.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part three)

genre: slow burn fic, fluff with hints of angst, light drama, no explicit smut

kms masterlist | <- part two | part four (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, light suggestive themes, overthinking/anxiety

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

summary of recent events: during lunch you and rafe brainstormed some ideas for your art project. despite your awkwardness and an unfortunate misunderstanding, rafe had been mostly chill the whole time. after you both said your goodbyes to leave for afternoon classes, you awaited a surprise: rafe had somehow gotten your number and sent you a text message.

word count: 3k+

a/n: i know this part is more like a breather but i promise next part is gonna have y/n and rafe interacting a LOT more + it’s all building up to sth bigger and i really don’t wanna rush this story, so bear with me please <3 however i decided to bring in some jj action hibihihi. anyway please enjoy and as always any kind of support, comments, reblogs etc. is appreciated <33

This was insane. So fucking insane. You were seriously starting to think this was one of those cruel dreams where you spend an entire fantasy life with your crush, only to wake up at the best part, heartbroken and pissed off at your alarm clock.

Ever since you got home, your heart had been running a marathon, and that weird, buzzing feeling in your chest just wouldn’t go away.

Your mind was racing with questions.

Where did Rafe even get your number? Why didn’t he just ask you for it during lunch? Why did he text you—what was his intention here?

WAS IT EVEN RAFE????

Maybe someone was messing with you. Your mind flashed back to English class, to Kelce Statter grinning like an idiot while having texted someone. Was it him?

You frowned. That would be a pretty fucked-up joke, and honestly, you doubted Kelce had the patience or brainpower to pull off something like that.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed, inhaling the familiar scent of your room, trying to slow your racing thoughts.

If someone had strapped a heart monitor to you today, you’d probably be in the ER by now. It had been ages since your adrenaline had spiked like this.

Rolling onto your stomach, you grabbed your phone again, elbows propped on your mattress.

Your brows furrowed as you opened Cara’s chat:

Of course. The one time you actually needed her, she was nowhere to be found. Probably got caught texting in class, and now she was stuck listening to Ms. Langford go on about the importance of English literature or whatever.

You switched to your chat with Rafe, biting the inside of your cheek as you stared at his messages.

You should probably text back. You’d already left him on read for an hour, just because you had no clue what to say.

Not that he actually gives a shit.

But still. He had taken the time to get your number and text you. That had to mean something, right?

Dude, you’re overthinking this again. It’s literally just two texts.

Pressing your lips together, you started typing:

As soon as you hit send, you tossed your phone to the other side of the bed and groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

God, you just said hi—so why the hell did it feel like your entire nervous system was short-circuiting?

Shit. I should’ve left out that stupid smiley.

:)

WHY did its face look both pissed off and kind of turned on at the same time?!

Great. Now he probably thought you were sexually frustrated. And the whole I assume this is Rafe? thing? Seriously, Y/N. Of course, it’s Rafe. What a dumbass question. His cute ass profile picture made it obvious.

So now, not only you seemed desperate—you seemed desperate AND stupid.

Bzzzrt.

You sat up so fast it gave you whiplash, grabbing your phone in record time. Heart pounding, you unlocked it—

Cara.

You exhaled, part relieved, part annoyed, and opened her messages.

You sighed and let your phone drop onto your bed again. If only you could somehow call this dating—but whatever was going on between you and Rafe… well, there wasn’t even a between to begin with.

There was nothing.

At best, you were classmates. Maybe project partners. Nothing more.

You ran a hand over your face. This whole thing was exhausting, and the worst part? Nothing had even happened between you and Rafe. Well—except for the fact that you’d acted like some socially inept, know-it-all nerd just hours ago.

And yet… you couldn’t deny that it was kind of exciting. For the first time ever, you’d had an actual conversation with Rafe Cameron, and he hadn’t just gotten up and left in the middle of it.

AND THEN HE’D TEXTED YOU?! LIKE, HOLY SHIT?!

Which, in turn, made you feel like some dumb, hopeless girl. Because, seriously—what were you even expecting from this? A friendship? A friends with benefits situation? A relationship?

You nearly laughed out loud. That thought was about as far from reality as it could possibly get. Honestly, you had a better chance of making a groundbreaking scientific discovery—and you sucked at science.

Alright, one thing at a time.

You caught yourself staring at your phone again, still no reply from Rafe.

It’s fine, you told yourself. You only messaged him ten minutes ago, and just because he texted you doesn’t mean you’re suddenly texting buddies or some crap.

Holy shit, I’m overthinking this again.

You needed a distraction. Like, right now.

But staying here was only going to make you lose it. You needed to get out, do something.

Your gaze drifted back to your phone, and you tapped on Cara’s number.

Her soft voice came through on the other end. “Let me guess, you need help coming up with a reply?”

“He hasn’t answered yet.”

“Asshole.”

You laughed. “It’s not even been ten minutes.”

“Yeah, well, ten too many,” she shot back, but you could hear her trying to hide a grin. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I thought we could hit the beach, chill a bit, you know, whatever.”

“You’re losing it, aren’t you?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

----------------------------------------------- The afternoon sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky, casting a golden glow over the beach. The waves weren’t exactly massive today but they were still decent enough for surfing.

Not that you’d be surfing anyway—your head was way too all over the place for that. You’d probably wipe out the second you got on the board.

No, today was about chilling. Just you and Cara, away from the crowd, tucked under the shade of your beach umbrella. You lay stretched out on your towels, talking about everything and anything—everything except Rafe Cameron.

Diggory, Cara’s cute family dog, was happily lounging with you, curled up on a damp towel with his portable water bowl nearby.

“--and then I ghosted him because, like, what kind of guy eats salami, pickles, and Nutella for breakfast?” Cara finished, shaking her head as she recalled her short-lived fling with a Swedish Touron from last week.

You laughed, tossing the sunscreen aside after finishing your legs. “A psycho probably.”

“The worst part? His weird food choices—and yeah, plural—didn’t even make up for his performance in bed,” she scoffed, scratching Diggory’s head. “Two minutes in, he finished, and acted like he’d just found the love of his life.”

You shrugged. “What’s that saying? 9 out of 10 Tourons mistake a one-night stand for a love story.”

Cara let out a dramatic sigh. “Ugh, I think I’m done with Tourons for a while. Time to keep it local.”

You chuckled, but before you could reply, muffled voices drifted over from the side, catching your attention.

“Doesn’t get more local than that,” you noted, subtly glancing toward the new arrivals on the beach.

Cara propped herself up on her elbows, following your gaze. A slow grin spread across her lips. “Pogues?”

You smirked, eyes lingering on the tanned blond with a surfboard under his arm. “Maybank’s kinda cute.”

Cara shot you a look over her sunglasses, raising an eyebrow. “JJ Maybank? Okay, girl, you definitely have a type. He’s basically Rafe Cameron but like broke.”

You scoffed, furrowing your brows. “I mean, objectively, he’s attractive. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Objectively, they’re all one grade below us,” Cara said dryly. But then her expression shifted into an amused smirk. “But yeah, fair point. All four of them? Absolute smash.”

You both cracked up, the tension from earlier fading for a moment.

In the distance, a firetruck siren wailed, and Diggory let out a dramatic howl in response.

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Cara murmured, scooping up the still-howling terrier into her arms.

You chuckled but quickly went quiet as a 6-foot, sun-kissed Pogue strolled up to your little beachside oasis.

JJ Maybank’s cocky grin peeked under your umbrella, his surfboard left behind with his friends.

“Heard a dog over here,” he remarked, his gaze flicking between you and Cara. “Or was that one of you howling for me?”

You bit back a laugh, while Cara rolled her eyes. “Piss off, JJ.”

You knew better—she was flirting.

JJ let out a dirty chuckle, crouching down as Diggory leaped from Cara’s lap, tail wagging like crazy. “Your dog disagrees.”

He scratched the excited terrier behind the ears.

“Pfft, Dig would run up to a serial killer,” Cara scoffed. “He’s got no moral compass whatsoever.”

JJ smirked, glancing up at her, his eyes flickering over her sunscreen-glazed legs before meeting her gaze. “Neither do I.”

Okaaay, I’m definitely third-wheeling here.

"JJ!" Kiara Carrera’s voice rang out from a few yards away. "Stop harassing random girls!"

Cara smirked. “Your girl’s got a point.”

JJ scoffed, raising a brow before ruffling Diggory’s fur one last time. Then he stood up. “Just making new friends, Ki!” he called back.

His sunlit torso practically gleamed, and you quickly looked away when he caught you staring.

Awkwaaaard.

“You should let your dog run somewhere with actual grass,” JJ teased, turning back to Cara. “Poor guy’s paws probably got calluses from all that Figure 8 pavement.”

Cara tilted her head, amused. “What do you suggest? The Cut? Yeah, no thanks, I’d rather not get mugged and stabbed.”

“You wouldn’t if I was with you,” JJ shot back, flashing his cockiest grin.

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or gag.

Cara let out a laugh, waving him off. “One mutt's enough for me.”

JJ shrugged. “I don’t need a leash either,” he quipped before shooting her a wink and jogging back to his friends.

Once he was out of earshot, Cara turned back to you, a wide grin on her face and a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. “Okay, you’re right—he’s hot.”

You both burst into laughter as Diggory waddled back onto his damp towel.

And that’s how the rest of the late afternoon went: watching the Pogues surf (one cocky blond in particular), snacking on strawberries, and cracking up over dumb jokes and wild party stories.

As the sun began dipping the sky in shades of orange, you slowly started packing up your things.

And you hadn’t checked your phone once—not that it mattered, since it was turned off anyway.

As you folded up the beach umbrella, your eyes drifted back toward the Pogues, hanging out at their own little spot on the other side of the beach.

With a playful smirk, you glanced at Cara, who was rolling up your towels. “Not gonna say bye to your new admirer?”

Cara raised a brow at you. “Pfft, like I’d chase after a Pogue.”

You rolled your eyes. “Nooo, you’d rather ‘accidentally’ run into him while walking Diggory in the Cut.”

“Or maybe I just happen to be coming back from Barry’s, and Dig rips his leash and bolts straight to whatever hole Maybank crawled out of.”

You nodded slowly. “Riiiight.”

Cara stuffed the towels into her beach bag and added casually, “Speaking of Barry, every time I’m picking up my weed, he’s asking about you .”

For some reason, that made your face heat up. You frowned, leaning on the umbrella. “Cara, I’m not hooking up with your dealer.”

She just shrugged, kneeling down to clip Diggory’s leash on. “He thinks you're chill and that means something. He doesn’t like a lot of Kooks. I thought you also liked him?”

“He's cool. That still doesn't change the fact he's selling coke and other stuff,” you said flatly.

Cara met your gaze, looking almost dreamy. “Yeah, and? Imagine: he’s the bad-boy dealer, and you’re his sweet little Kook princess.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You need to stay off Tumblr and Wattpad.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Rafe Cameron Stan No. 1 for life.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and started walking off with Diggory.

You just rolled your eyes and followed after her.

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

Back at home, you had dinner with your parents, then retreated to your room. You dropped your bag and sank onto your bed, phone in hand.

And then it started again — the tingling nerves.

What if Rafe still hadn't texted you? The thought was somehow so depressing.

Oh my god, just check already.

You held your breath, waiting impatiently for your phone to fully turn on. The screen lit up and…

A huge smile spread across your face, and your heart skipped a beat.

SEEMED LIKE HE WANTED TO SEE YOU AGAIN.

Okay, okay, breathe. Don’t read too much into it.

AHHH, BUT HOW COULD YOU NOT.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Seriously, calm down.

And you did—until Cara’s words from earlier popped back into your head, and that heavy feeling settled in your chest again.

Rafe was probably just putting in extra effort so he could get a good grade on this project. This wasn’t about wanting to see you again or anything like that.

You scoffed. What a naive thought.

You know what? Who cares? He wanted to meet up again, and that alone was a nice thought—whatever the reason.

Alright, how were you supposed to respond?

One thing's certain: no more sexually frustrated emojis.

You checked the timestamp on his last message. A little over an hour ago. Okay, that meant enough time had passed for you to reply without seeming too eager.

That was fine, right? RIGHT?!

Ugh, not really. Again, you sounded like a stupid girl because of fucking course he had meant after school.

Frustrated, you closed your eyes and let yourself fall back onto your bed.

Why were you so bad at… this?

Cara had practically effortlessly won over JJ Maybank today (okay, maybe it had been the other way around but that wasn't the point), and she hadn’t done anything except be herself.

She always just said what was on her mind and if she got rejected or received a weird look in return, so be it. Even outside of flirting, she handled social interactions with ease.

Why couldn’t you do that? Why did you have to overanalyze every single move?

It had already cost you so many potential friendships—maybe even relationships. And no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t turn that part of your brain off. At least not during in-person interactions.

The worst part? You weren’t even truly shy. Well, okay, kind of. But you, you know, the real you—how you usually acted around people you felt comfortable with—was always trapped behind this stupid barrier your own mind had built.

It was so frustrating because—

Bzzrt.

Your eyes snapped open as you grabbed your phone.

Rafe.

It hadn’t even been five minutes.

You sat up quickly and tapped into the chat:

You scoffed amused.

Your heart was racing again, adrenaline kicking in.

You clenched your teeth, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to reply right away, but wouldn’t that seem too much?

Then again, he had answered quickly too…

But what if you texted back now and then he took another hour to reply, or worse, didn’t reply at all…?

Fucking hell, enough.

What if you just… shut your brain off for once?

Just do it. Who cares how it comes across?

You’d already reached peak embarrassment today—you had nothing left to lose.

So you typed your message and hit send without second-guessing it.

…

And it felt good. It wasn’t even a big move or anything, but still, it made you smile.

Your phone buzzed again, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you read his message.

Ruthie Whitmore was an arrogant bitch. Loud, annoying, stuck-up—the biggest pick-me girl in Figure 8. No, probably in all of North Carolina. And she was obsessed with your Economics teacher, Mr. Collins, who was at least in his late 30s.

You didn’t know what it was—Rafe’s bluntness, the fact that you could hide your awkwardness behind a screen, or maybe just how tired you were of your real self always being held back by your own hesitation—but texting Rafe Cameron suddenly felt easy.

Okay, maybe it was also because, deep down (yeah, you still couldn’t fully shut off your brain), you knew he wasn’t actually interested in you.

He just needed to pass art class because his high school diploma depended on it.

And that’s exactly why you saw this chat for what it really was: a conversation with a project partner who was hoping you’d help boosting his Art grade.

And just like that, the conversation was over.

For a moment, you stared at the chat—or more specifically, his stupid little profile picture which had to have been taken by Kelce or Topper at some party. Then you let your phone drop onto the bed and a huge, stupid grin spread across your face.

Normally, the way you had just texted him would have sent you into a spiral of overthinking. Shit, you’d been cheeky (yeah, yeah, nothing crazy but for you it WAS)—nothing like the awkward girl you had been this afternoon.

But the thing was, this was you. You had loud thoughts and strong opinions, you enjoyed joking around, saying stupid shit, and holy shit you LOVED the banter that came with it.

You were a loud soul trapped in a silent body.

I’m basically a closeted extrovert, you thought, laughing to yourself. It sounded ridiculous and cringe as hell but let's be real, it summed you up perfectly.

And honestly, it didn’t even matter what you said or how you acted. No matter what Rafe thought of you, in two weeks, your paths would split again anyway. and you’d go back to your own little bubble—where you could admire him from a safe distance.

Sure, if only it were that simple.

You rolled your eyes at your own naivety. You already knew that the second you saw Rafe Cameron again tomorrow, your nerves would be doing somersaults, and you’d fall right back into being an awkward mess.

Because that was the cruel difference between texting and talking in person: There was no screen to hide behind and no digital barrier to mask your insecurity.

And that was a struggle you had yet to overcome.

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kms masterlist | <- part two | part four (soon) ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess

[def-not-kaz-brekker]

once I was scrolling through Tumblr and my friend was watching my screen and he was like “it’s irritating me how much you’re reblogging things” like?? my brother in Christ how do you thing blogging works. liking doesnt do anything. you have to reblog to boost a post. like bro.

[coyoxxtl]

we got a new coworker who is cool and i really like but my managers are giving him a little more heat for mistakes than i usually see from them and considering he’s a black man it does Not look good

[theredtours]

.

[stellacadente]

if you ever feel stupid just think of this one store clerk i met in dublin who i was chatting with, saying i'm a tourist from italy, to which they said they once went to a concert of a spanish artist and there were many people with italian flags. then they looked at my necklace and asked "oh? that's the italian flag right?" . it's the palestinian flag ...

[vanweezer]

very very personal, just insight into where im at w my family and things that bother me/have encouraged me to move out

"i know youre moving out so im just gonna say no ones kicking you out and if you feel like this is something you have to do then ok"

thanks! i know im not being kicked out! but yknow i kinda yet a weird vibe when your out of touch husband takes me to a cemetery to yell at me, tell me im just like my father/dont give my father "the time of day", and that im "mean to people who care about me" in front of his dead mother's grave in a poor attempt at guilting me out of speaking my mind. but no yeah thanks for stating the fucking obvious that im leaving on my own terms

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[charliesinfern0]

I’m so fucking upset right now it’s not even funny

[charmac]

X

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

imo everyone on earth should be talking about Him (don't want this showing up in the tag even though it's not a diss) but everytime i go to the tag and there's only like 3 new posts i'm like. oh yeah almost no one cares except me and like 5 other ppl on here

i ran out of tags KFHSJENNXN i don't think that's literally ever happened to me before anyways don't read them because it's just me being insane as per usual

[britneyshakespeare]

people who don't know fucking shit about adderall oughtta keep their fucking mouths shut about adderall

[sanstropfremir]

Hi! Have you seen that nct jaehyun, dooyoung and jungwoo made a sub-unit? Their song is called perfume and it is just SO FUN! The song itself reminds me of some of the old suju songs because the beat is so fun and makes you wanna dance, but the choreography is also ridiculously fun! You should check it out) I was reading your posts about the lack of fun in kpop, and this was honestly very refreshing to see. The mini-album is also quite good, and they even did a live-band cover of their songs. As always, nct guys are incredibly talented musically, good job

i actually really did not like their release....or their subunit.....or the album............

[sleepknoot]

Funny shit how my dad gets upset "nobody tells him anything" because on the off chance he actually pays attention to what somebody tells him, he gets all pissy and disrespectful about whatever it fucking is.

[thedepressedjuggalette]

Ever heard the question "You're a Burglar but you can ONLY steal things that slightly inconveniences your victims--what are you stealing?"

My answer:

I'll be stealing the strings to your hoods, you will have loose hoods -- it's gonna feel like a moist handshake on your body. I'm gonna steal all your left footed socks you will HAVE to wear mismatching socks.

I'll also be taking all your coffee filters and the springs to the back of your remotes where you put the batteries.

I'll steal all your shoe laces' aglets, the moment you take them out of your shoes to wash them, good luck putting them back on your shoes!

I'll be taking the soles of those shoes too, at that point you'll be questioning if you're cursed and will be calling up your local exorcist.

I'm also taking the wiring to all your bras, at that point you're gonna put me at the top of America's Most Wanted right next to the guy who eats people, the hash slinging slasher, and the Klan member who shot up schools.

Oh, and I'll also be taking that notebook/sticky note that has all your passwords on it ,a piece from all your puzzles, the box covers to your DVD collections, and the tops to all your makers--Sharpies included.

I'm also taking all the good flavors of your Gatorade and the seals to your new bottles of juice just to make you question if someone took a drink from it before you bought it.

I'll also be taking the tabs to your soda cans so you can't open them.

I'm gonna take all the outlet boxes to your chargers good luck charging your cellphone.

I'm also stealing the earbud tips, at this point you're gonna go to your neighbors house to call a lawyer because you're gonna need to get batman just to hunt my ass down.

I never said I'm a nice person. In fact if you were to have asked before reading all this shit I'd have straight up told you that I'm one of the few people who knows for a fact that if God exists I'm definitely one of the people who is going to hell, I'm 100% sure I'm kicking Satan out of his fucking seat and taking over before calling for a biblical war so I can fight God too.