#side note but i swear i don't mean to be this bad at tag games

[nikialexx]

@blackberry-sunset tagged me in a picrew game (thank you!! yes i am still in love with making these 🥰). i did make the picrew but then i forgot to post it so... it's been a while. but here it is!

and here it is for anyone else who wants to do it!

[daydream-believin]

Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]

notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)

series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.

or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.

chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao

word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)

warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty

You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.

Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.

Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.

And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.

On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.

“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.

Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?

Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.

***

The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.

The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.

There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.

That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.

 I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.

You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.

The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.

You took another look back at the table as you walked away.

Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?

Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.

A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.

That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.

“You like that one, do ya?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.

“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”

“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter..  liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”

The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.

“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.

“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”

Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.

So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.

You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.

It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.

Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.

Deeply afraid.

Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.

You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.

Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.

***

Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.

You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.

“zZz-Hurricane—“

Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.

“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.

And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,

“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”

You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.

You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.

I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?

Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.

Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.

You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.

The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.

You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.

Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.

That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.

***

Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.

The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.

“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.

Well, guess you’re holding on a second.

Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.

That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.

After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.

“Table for two?”

You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.

“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”

Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”

She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.

She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.

The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”

That... wasn’t your concern.

You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.

You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.

Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.

But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.

You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.

That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.

“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”

“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”

“In Utah?”

Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.

“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”

After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.

Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.

You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.

Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.

You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.

So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.

You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.

Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.

***

You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.

Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.

“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.

You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.

“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.

Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…

Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.

Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.

“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”

Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.

If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.

“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”

When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??

Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?

The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.

Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.

You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.

“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”

He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.

“…435-555-1987?”

You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.

Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.

You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.

“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?

“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.

“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.

It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.

“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”

You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”

“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”

You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”

you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.

“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”

“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”

… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.

“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”

“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”

“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.

“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”

“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”

You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.

“Do you know where you live?”

He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”

Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.

“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”

“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.

“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.

After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.

Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.

The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.

God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—

Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.

“I’m sorry about that,”

“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.

“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.

He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.

“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.

“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.

“Nah, that’s it” you were too nauseous to eat right now.

You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you.  The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.

“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.

She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”

You furiously nodded in confusion,

“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”

You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.

You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.

And.

Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.

You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.

Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.

You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.

As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.

You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.

Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.

God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.

There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.

Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.

You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.

Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.

You had to get rid of that bear.

***

You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.

You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.

A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.

God, you wished you could just skip town.

You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.

You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.

Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?

If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.

In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.

Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...

The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.

You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.

The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.

But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.

You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.

As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.

“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.

The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:

A drone shot of Zion national park

Old men golfing

Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses

Rock archways

A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,

“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.

Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool

A Navajo cultural event

More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs

Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you

Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played

Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…

The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”

Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.

***

Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.

Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.

There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.

It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!

***

Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.

But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.

The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.

You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.

You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.

What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.

You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.

You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.

***

Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.

If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.

You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.

Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.

The door was locked.

You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.

He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.

Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.

Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.

“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,

It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”

How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.

“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.

“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”

“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”

“Jesus Christ! WHY.”

Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.

“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”

“I really don’t have any money to spar--”

“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.

A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.

“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”

He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”

“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”

“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.

 You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,

“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”

“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)

The door slammed in your face.

Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.

Okay.

Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.

Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.

Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.

[mayonnara]

i really wonder if any of you stop to give at least a little bit of a shit

this is one example, by the way. BIG accounts are like this too

they pretend to be agree and be like "THIS!!!" but in the side lines they're doing the same. don't be like these people. if you like something, then puff out your chest and don't be a pussy about it. tell everyone how you're into watching kids shooting other kids.

there's no such thing as not condoning this type of thing. there's no such thing as being a "researcher" when you're clearly just glorifying them and making them "quirky uwu". just say it. say that you're a horrible person. it's easier for everyone.

i always check the little "similar accounts" tab, it's very helpful for finding shitty people.

im putting this in the postal tag because im still getting notifications about tcccunts liking my stuff. since this is a side account i noticed that no matter how many people i block they still have access to my posts, and i don't have access to theirs. tumblr, fix your site.

since im incredibly pissed about this, and i can't sleep, im going to rant.

i think we should change the meaning of "community". are you really part of a community if you got caught in a school shooting, they would be worshiping your shooter? are you really part of a community if you got killed and recorded, people would just be looking at your dead body and laughing instead of being sad? are you really part of a community if you're doing something illegal?

this is why i believe there's no such thing as a true crime community. or a gore community. or anything of the sort.

for me, you're all just as bad as maps, proshippers, terfs, and all that bad bunch.

i think its just common sense that these people should be ridiculed and isolated from any fandom, but here in this fandom? no, it's okay, we'll dickride you because you're different, it's a different thing y'know? stop being so sensitive. respect them.

i swear make it make sense. just, make it make a lick of sense.

it just makes me so angry because the games are satire, they're supposed to be funny and be like "ohh haha ginger man pisses on bodies lmaoo", and nothing is real. even if postal was a game about a teenager that goes on a school shooting and it's extremely realistic and shit, it's still not real. then why would you associate something like that to such horrible things? hell, i HATE shooting games and even i thought postal was kinda fun, i went pacifist for all my playthrough but i made another game file and went exploding the town and killing everyone. you know why i can do that? because its not real. why can't you just leave it at that? don't mix two things that have nothing to do with each other. don't glorify people that hurt real people. that should just be common sense.

oh but may, you drew yourself with postal dude once! you cry, but guess what. IM NOT A SCHOOL SHOOTER AM I NOW

also, i wanted to rant about something that really does piss me off as well. why do artists get a pass when it comes to this shit? or just, anything in general. why is when they post horrible shit, it's alright, but when its someone that doesn't make art, or is a beginner, it's a tomato throwing party? do it to both of them. them being able to draw shouldn't give them a shield to do horrible shit. it shouldn't matter how many followers or how notes they have, hold them accountable for crying out loud. "but they make art i like" and? you're just excusing their behavior, you're excusing what their doing because you "like their art". that's just.. it's just insane to me.

i have never seen a fandom like this. i have been in the genshin fandom, i have been in the south park fandom, i have been in the cookie run fandom, i have been in the onceler fandom, and none of them, absolutely none of them were as bad as this one. i didn't even know that was physically possible.

all of you are like, 19, 23, 24 whatever, you should know better than to excuse this behavior. like i said, puff out your chest and tell everyone how you really are. just say it. don't pretend you're innocent.

you know what's funnier? theres currently the genocide going on in Palestine. and these fuckers be posting about it, #savepalestine! #helppalestine! they don't give two SHITS about it, and you still go and like "oh but they post about Palaestine" they're out there watching people dying and enjoying it, you think they CARE about a GENOCIDE?? it's what they love! seriously, this is just so uguugghhg

my brain can't comprehend someone like this. it just can't.

[beautifulchris]

trainwreck

pairing: choi lia x gn!reader

summary: sometimes, relationships are meant to end

genres: angst, lovers to exes!au, good ending?

wc: 1,1k

tw: lia is a bad girlfriend, swearing

notes: hello everyone! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics (ignore the mentions of a dress and 'boy'), banner made by me on canva. also!! idk if you'll notice, but this one is also based on two other songs from anne-marie c: happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You meant to say this for a while now, and today was the day you finally gathered the courage to verbalize the thought.

“What do you mean?”

The words that flew past her lips were nonchalant, like she was completely relaxed. Sitting up, she had her arms and legs crossed and a seemingly emotionless face. At least, that was the face you knew she made when unimpressed.

“I mean… that I want to break up with you.”

In contrast, you were so nervous you could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and sweat was running down the sides of your face. Her reaction didn’t ease you either.

“Okay.”

Was it all you meant to her? After everything, it looked like it didn’t faze her at all. Saying you weren’t hurt would be a lie.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What? Did you think I’d get on my knees begging you to stay? If you want to leave, go, the door’s wide open” she stated as she gestured towards the front door of her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to come back. Cause I know you will eventually. You know what? I give you two weeks at most.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did those hostile yet detached words really left her lips effortlessly?

You grabbed your bag and left her place without delay, whispering to yourself: “I won’t.”

Choi Lia has been an important person in your life, yes.

You loved her intensely and sincerely for many months, but soon, mostly thanks to your friends, you started to acknowledge the little details. Minimal at first, but, over time, they grew bigger until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

She’d look into your phone whenever you’d leave the room without it, subtly mock you in front of her friends, cancel numerous dates to go to parties instead, order take-away when she was aware you cooked for her…

You always put up with it because you loved her, but letting her go, albeit painful, was the best thing you could’ve done for your own health.

Called up my friends, took their advice Put on a dress, I'm out tonight I can't believe I said goodbye Oh yeah, this time you know, I finally let you go, yeah

It had been three days since you put an end to the relationship. Of course your friends would take you out on a Friday night.

The party was chill. There were around twenty people, refreshing cocktails, good background music and board games.

Lia didn’t come to mind once, much to the delight of your dear friends. 

You actually made some new acquaintances, which was nice.

Spending more time with your friends, they saw the difference in your behavior.

“You look happier, Y/N,” one of them informed you.

“You smile and laugh more, you seem more alive,” another one added.

You felt it, too. You felt free from her. Her claws. Her grip on you.

I don't know why you thought that I'd be sheddin' a tear When I'm chillin' at the party, and I'm glad you're not here And I don't know what to say, but the pain disappeared And I'm sorry Bet you think I'm a trainwreck, upset Friday night, layin' lonely in my bed Truth is, boy, I'm so fuckin' happy Without you

Life went on.

A month later, Lia was on her couch, a drink in hand. It was dark in her apartment.

“Why haven't they come back already?”

She was fidgeting, her lips pressed together and her brows furrowed.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

Her phone rang in the deafening silence, making her flinch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Of course, Y/N would call instead of coming unannounced.”

She answered the phone with a confident smirk, ready to hear your begging.

“I put all your stuff in a bag. Do you have a moment this week so we could trade?”

Lia’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

“Also, don’t forget to give me back the keys to my place. I feel uneasy knowing you still have them. Not like you came often, anyway.”

It was her turn to be too stunned to speak. How could you be so apathetic? It wasn’t like you to use this tone when talking to her. She stared at the wall with an open mouth.

“I’ll wait for your message, then. Hanging up.”

Before Lia could protest, the call was over. She sat there, not moving for a while, thoughts twirling in her mind.

So pour yourself another drink Sit on your couch and overthink In all your lies and arrogance, I've been alright, you know So glad you let me go, yeah

Your ex-girlfriend finally gave you a time and place to meet. Without much surprise, it was at her place. Seeing her again after so long was not as painful as you thought it would be—not as painful as Lia hoped it would be.

She had to face the fact you changed. You weren’t the easily manipulated, sweetly naive and blindly in love person anymore. Much to her dismay.

“Here,” you handed her the bag, expecting another one in return.

Instead, she took a step back and offered for you to come in. “Want something to drink?”

“No?” With furrowed brows, you crossed your arms. “Give me back my stuff, please.”

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin with your free index finger. “As a matter-of-fact, no, I don’t. I just want my stuff and leave this place forever.”

“Well… I…” Not finding anything concrete to say, she sighed loudly. 

Reluctantly, she grabbed the bag from the ground behind her and put the handle on your outstretched hand, before taking hers out of your other hand.

“You don’t mind me checking, right?”

She slowly shook her head, eyes unfocused, even if you didn’t wait for her approval. The key was there, that was all you cared about. Wait, no, there was a cute outfit you forgot about, too.

You thanked her and left. She called out for you, but you didn’t turn around. “Erase my number!”

It wasn’t said with a negative tone, but Lia took it like a stab in the back. Which was really audacious coming from her.

She just couldn’t believe you left her without a second thought and didn’t come back like she was convinced you would.

And now we're at the final stop And I'm the one that's gettin' off I know you hope I'm cryin', but I'm doin' just fine

She was now part of your past. Unerasable, of course, but peaceful.

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

[chipped-chimera]

WIP WEDNESDAY - 12/07/23

AND IT'S ACTUALLY ON A WEDNESDAY! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag <3 I regret to inform you ... it's more hair again @.@ (this one is actually different, I swear)

More under the cut, as usual~

Soooo if you've been following me you probably know I've done a few things since my last WIP Wednesday, namely more tattoo stuff, and more recently ... more hair stuff.

After a LOT of agonising over it I finally consider the neck 'done' ... or done enough (vaguely ... thinking about doing something more in the transition between the tattoo and the jaw but I probably should stop honestly or I'll never stop). This means I probably have enough done to get away with taking screenshots while I work on the rest of it. Been pondering drawing up an actual plan for the rest beyond what I've been doing so far - mostly winging it and smashing things together. Might get stuff done faster, who knows.

Anyway I am back on my hair shit, yet again that's going just about ... as well as you'd expect ...

Okay okay, I'll be honest, this has been fixed but I gotta say after spending a whole 12 hrs staring at lines of code, changing entries and having to redo them several times because I'd fucked up some file name or changed my mind or found out 'no that is not where you should be putting that folder you absolute dingus' and this was the best I could do was kind of hilarious. 😂

The important part was I'd gotten it IN, which was a process and a half, considering THIS time I'm using a custom made 2048px hair texture (alpha is 4k) and a higher poly mesh - which means yeah, this is the same hair rebuilt from scratch.

After some additional fiddling ...

... and a very unamused Ven (I'm sorry hun) ...

I got it in. All of it. No missing textures, no hair cards in the hair cap slot. The physics look janky but it's somewhat intentional - this is a minimal effort rigging job based on the alt rig, the priority was to get this hair texture IN so I could see how it looked in game and how everything sat before I dug myself further into a sunk cost fallacy over this second version of the hair.

And I'm actually pretty happy with it? There is some curl distortion yeah but it's not as bad as it was last time - and considering I'd rigged that one PROPERLY is saying something. Higher poly + textures are making a big difference here. It's pretty obvious in the comparison -

Also yes I am aware this one is WAY too shiny, but that one is a considerably easy fix now I know how Vertex Paint actually affects this value. I was a bit too generous on the highlight gradient so I've already repainted what I have so far, using side-by-side references with existing game meshes to try and get it 'equal' but it's likely gonna be a lot of back and forth calibrating with that one.

Excessive shiny-ness aside I'm actually REALLY happy with how the side curl is sitting nice and neat in her jacket collar this time! Also man ... doesn't that look silky ... (ok maybe some shine is good lmao)

I guess that's kind of it on the mod front. I've got other projects in a very initial stage (it's fanfic. Ofc it's fanfic) but work on both the tattoo bodysuit + hair is eating up a lot of my daily spoon allowance so that one will happen when it happens I guess (and probably when at minimum, this goddamn hair is done).

Oh and this hair is using UUH4V. I GOT IT TO WORK. Which means I'll be able to use multiple rigs which will hopefully prevent these carefully crafted curls from getting minced beyond recognition, fingers crossed.

Anyways until next time!

(Uh, I tag anyone who read all of this. Yes you. sorry I don't know many people yet and I'm shyyy)

p.s. yes hair tutorial. soon. In the case you are similarly frustrated and desperate as I was and working on hair please note I AM VERY OPEN TO TELLING YOU ALL THE INFO just ask me. Cause tutorial might take time unfortunately. But it's in the works.

[envirae]

ROM-COM TROPES WITH 7DREAM

IN WHICH: 7dream each find their own stories of love in this tale of anger, affection, sadness, and passion.

an nct dream oneshot series

please fill out this taglist form OR send in an ask if you would like to be tagged in any of the fics!

— MARK LEE: JUST FOR A MOMENT

SUMMARY: when an innocent agreement to become his wingwoman turns into having to pretend like you’re his girlfriend, Mark suddenly starts to see you in a new light. he tells himself it’s nothing big, but are the two of you really just faking?

PAIRING(S): mark lee x fem!reader, platonic!kim jungwoo x reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, college au, fake dating au

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy, kissing, alcohol usage, mark and reader are kinda dumb

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

READ HERE

— HUANG RENJUN: THE WAY I DON'T LOVE YOU

SUMMARY: After harboring your feelings for your brother's best friend for over a decade, you’ve officially admitted defeat. But when you decide to date around in an effort to get over him, you’ve suddenly piqued his interest.

PAIRING(S): huang renjun x fem!reader, brother!kim doyoung x reader

GENRE: brother’s best friend, fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

WORD COUNT: 5k? (subject to change)

READ HERE

— LEE JENO: IF WE TAKE THE RISK

SUMMARY: When your best friend suddenly gets a girlfriend, there’s a clear shift in the air. It doesn’t go unnoticed, either. After toeing the line between friends and more, Jeno’s determined to find out your secret. Even if it means destroying your close bond.

PAIRING(S): lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRE: best friends to lovers fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

WORD COUNT:

READ HERE

— LEE DONG HYUCK: THEN I FOUND YOU

SUMMARY: Lee Dong Hyuck is a side character. He observes people as they go by, living vicariously through them. But when a messy haired, bright eyed girl suddenly walks into the cafe where he works, Dong Hyuck wonders if he can have his own story.

PAIRING(S): lee dong hyuck x fem!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

WORD COUNT:

READ HERE

— NA JAEMIN: ALL THE WORDS I NEVER SAID

SUMMARY: When the most popular boy in school starts getting love notes, smart but quiet y/n seems like the last possible subject. That is, until, Na Jaemin sees a small girl slipping a small pink envelope into his locker.

PAIRING(S): na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRE: secret admirer, fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

WORD COUNT:

READ HERE

— ZHONG CHENLE: WAITING GAME

SUMMARY: Academic rivals Zhong Chenle and L/N Y/N have never once seen eye to eye. There's no lengths they won't go to in order to beat each other, even if that means some foul play.

PAIRING(S): zhong chenle x fem!reader

GENRE: rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

WORD COUNT:

READ HERE

— PARK JISUNG: BAD BAD NEWS

SUMMARY: in desperate efforts to try to fit in, young and cash strapped Park Jisung takes a bet to date the quiet social reject, and stay with her for at least three months. Sure it's a little dirty but, all's fair in love and war.

PAIRING(S): park jisung x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, high school au,

WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy

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[delaber]

Can’t Have Your Cake and Another Cake Too

Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: Okay, I’ll stop breaking Rafa’s heart now... Last time, I swear! Thanks for the prompts to these lovely anons. Alhough this is not a prequel to Poetic Justice (Rafa x ER Nurse), poor Rafa’s facing some of the same issues. I very loosely based this story on J. Cole’s Kevin’s Heart (don’t know why I’m always incorporating J. Cole into my fics, but apparently he’s always lurking in the back of my mind) and Phlake’s So Faded. Let me know what you think!

Words: 4.7K

Warnings: Cocaine addiction! Does not have a happy ending (nobody ODs and nobody’s dying ...Only on the inside lol)

Tagging: No one! This might not be for everybody and I don’t want anybody to feel forced to read it 😌

It was supposed to be a great night out. The entire gang was there, and at the instigation of Diggs, Rafa was supposed to be on the prowl to get laid so he could take his mind off of his broken heart.

From his seat in the booth, Rafa had a fairly good view of the dance floor and he had already spotted a few honeys who likewise had acknowledged him by smiling and sending him a couple of long looks. One of them had even twirled her hair between her fingers while blowing him a kiss. He had the green light, all systems were go!

However, of all the things that could've thrown him off his game, Rafa would not have placed a single bet on a phone call. But the minute he pulled out his vibrating phone and checked the caller ID, both the group of honeys on the dance floor and his friends occupying the seats all around him were completely forgotten. Nothing else mattered anymore.

He stared at the screen for a while, reading the name over and over again. What the fuck was Morris calling him for? Rafa had told him to stop. Morris knew he was too weak to say no even though he had promised his girl that he'd stop for good.

...Or, you weren't his girl. Not anymore.

But Rafa was still determined to win you back no matter if you had stopped answering his phone calls or not, so he took a tough decision and pressed the decline button beneath Morris' name. He even contemplated putting his phone on flight-mode to remove all unwelcome temptations - he knew you'd never take him back if he fell back in - yet, for some reason taking himself off the grid was easier said than done, and before he had pulled himself together to actually press the little airplane button, a text from Morris had ticked in. It only consisted of two words but Rafa understood perfectly.

'New candy.'

Fuck... Rafa considered the pros and cons of accepting for a few milliseconds before he came to his senses. No, no, no. The only way he'd ever win you back would be by showing you that he could stay sober even after your break-up. Morris could fuck off! As if awaking from a trance, Rafa hurriedly put his phone back in his pocket and desperately tried to forget about Morris' enticing offer by telling himself that he was strong enough to shake it.

...although deep down, he was aware that it was already too late. That no matter what, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it now. And no matter how hard he tried to re-focus on the honeys on the dance floor and tell himself how stupid it was to hit Morris up, it was no use, the damage was done; he was desperate to get high!

Deeply, horribly ashamed of himself, Rafa texted Morris the address of the club and impatiently waited a couple of minutes before he walked outside with heavy footsteps. It felt as if he was walking to the gallows, the shame eating him up from the inside. You'd be so disappointed in him!

However, in order to make himself accept what he was about to do, he reminded himself that apparently, you didn't care if he was high or not. If you did, you would've returned his phone calls, and you would've reacted to the fact that he had been sober for three weeks now - but you hadn't. And with that in mind, Rafa managed to push away most of the shame as he laid eyes on Morris' sketchy Subaru parked by the curb on the other side of the road. He walked across the street with determined footsteps, carefully looking over his shoulder to check if anybody he knew were watching him approach what was clearly a dealer's car.

"What's up, bruh!" Morris called as he rolled down his window. He was wearing sunglasses, looking like an absolute turd in the dark night.

Rafa put his arms on the car's beltline and shot Morris a bro handshake through the open window, "what the fuck are you wearing sunglasses at night for? You look like a dick."

"Nah, man, it looks cool," Morris laughed, "do you like them? Hell, you should like them - you paid for them."

"What do you mean I paid for them?"

"With the amount of money you spend in my shop, I think it's safe to assume that you paid for these sunglasses and the rims on the ride too," Morris snorted.

"Yeah, about that," Rafa looked away, the embarrassment slowly creeping up his spine again, "you gotta stop calling me."

"You said that last time as well but look at you now," Morris laughed.

"Come on man, it's important that I stop."

"You don't wanna stop though."

Rafa let out a sigh, "look, I'm trying to prove something to my girlf- ...ex-girlfriend."

"A'ight, I respect that," Morris nodded slowly but then he quickly continued, "so did you just call me here to pin your lady troubles on me? Cause I have a customer waiting up on Seventh Ave."

Rafa blew out some air, embarrassed by the decision he was about to make.

"...Or do you wanna buy?" Morris continued as he read Rafa's body language.

"...you're not gonna tell Diggs are you?"

"Do I look like a fucking snitch?" Morris looked offended, "and you know me and Diggs don't talk no more."

"Yeah, alright. This stays between us, okay? If word gets out, I'm fucked."

"A'ight bruh," Morris laughed, "Now, how much do you need?"

"Just... just give me an eightball," Rafa mumbled.

Morris let out a small laugh, "an eightball? Man, you're not about to quit," he chuckled and handed Rafa a zip-lock bag with white powder in it.

"Shut up," Rafa mumbled and pocketed the baggie, "how much?"

"Rafa, you're my man, so I'mma give you a discount because I feel bad for you and your girl. Three hundo."

"Three hundred?! Last time it was two-eighty without the discount."

"Times are changing. I haven't seen you in three weeks, man. Plus, this is a good batch," Morris poked Rafa in the chest, "my contact got it shipped in directly from Medellín. Look, it got fish scale and everything!"

"You better not fuck me over," Rafa muttered and threw Morris three hundred-dollar bills before he turned away from him with an annoyed huff.

"Pleasure doing business as always, Casal! See you next weekend!" Morris yelled after Rafa with a small laugh, apparently not a care in the world for who knew about their illegal transaction.

"Fucking idiot," Rafa muttered to himself without turning around. He had more important things to do than to scold Morris about his indiscretion.

Rafa hurried to the restroom and carefully locked the door behind him before he frantically pulled out the zip-lock bag. He examined its contents and saw the pearl-like surface that Morris had talked about - Fuck it looked good! He opened the bag carefully but froze when he caught his own reflection in the bathroom mirror; the loving look he was sending the bag of coke was sickening. It made his stomach plummet. Had he really been reduced to snorting coke alone in a dirty bathroom of a sketchy club? He remembered when it had been a group activity. Before he couldn't control it.

Shake it off! He told himself. He had every intention of stopping after tonight. This would be the last time.

You said that last time as well, a small voice rang in the back of his head, but he ignored his guilty conscience and instead poured out a small pile of the pearl-like coke on top of the hand dryer. Quickly, he pulled out a random card from his wallet and used it to form two heavy lines. Before his guilty conscience could interfere again, he also grabbed a one-dollar bill that he neatly rolled into a small tube and put between his right nostril and one of the white lines, ready for the rush. His gaze, however, lingered on the random card he had used to break the coke into lines; it was his fucking rewards card for the small organic, artisan shit coffee house that you liked. What wouldn't you say if you knew what he was doing? In his mind's eye, he could see the disappointed look you always sent him whenever he'd come home all hyped up, rambling his mouth off. You never got angry with him and his love of coke, but somehow your disappointed demeanour was way worse. He would've taken screaming and yelling over the disappointed stare and the slow shake of your head any day.

Slowly, he removed the dollar-bill from his nostril, stood up straight and met his own eyes in the mirror again - and for a moment, he could truly see how pathetic he was. What the hell was he doing? He was throwing away his last shot at getting you back - and for what? A few hours of euphoria and confidence?

But she doesn't want you back, a small voice rang inside his head, you called, and you called, and you called. You declared yourself clean to her voicemail and she still didn't reach out. Fuck her!

"Yeah, fuck her," Rafa mumbled before he put the dollar-bill back to his nostril. Quickly, he snorted both lines of coke, shooting his head back afterwards, sniffling a bit as he cleaned his nose with the back of his hand. He knew he only had a couple of minutes before the euphoria kicked in, so he quickly brushed off the dollar-bill and the rewards card and tugged them both back in his wallet. The remainder of the coke was stowed away in his shirt's breast pocket for safe keeping.

Ready for the rush, Rafa was impatiently staring at himself in the mirror. He was thinking about how to avoid Diggs and his condescending looks for the duration of his high, when he was finally overwhelmed by the familiar fuzzy feeling. It came out of nowhere and started behind his eyeballs and continued all the way down to his toenails. It felt as if someone had pulled a large, fluffy blanket down over him, and it was slowly heating up his body, making him feel safe and secure. His pulse quickened in time with his breathing, and he had to close his eyes to get himself under control. He felt fucking powerful! Morris had not lied about this coming from a good batch. "Shit, Morris," he laughed.

There was a knock on the door, and Rafa remembered that he had occupied the men's room for a good five minutes now. He took a last look at his suddenly hazed eyes, aware that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, anyone could see that he was high as a kite. He contemplated riding out his high alone in the bathroom but also knew that with the amount of energy present in his body, he couldn't stay in the small restroom all night. He had to dance! To fuck! To fight!

With a suddenly confident bounce in his step, he opened the door, and sent the guy in line what he hoped was an apologetic nod before he confidently strode towards the honeys on the dance floor.

"Hey Rafa!" he heard someone yell behind him.

Hoping it was someone who wanted to fight, Rafa quickly turned around but was slightly disappointed to see Diggs coming towards him with a huge grin on his face. Shit! Rafa realised that he had to act nonchalant around his best friend. Diggs absolutely couldn't know about the coke in his breast pocket, or he'd be all up in Rafa's face about it.

"Diiiiiggs! My man!" Rafa yelled overly excited, clearly very, very high.

Diggs shot him a look at his weird behaviour before he continued, "where've you been, man? I've been looking for you everywhere."

"R-r-r-r-r-r-r-rrrrrrrestroom," Rafa laughed, he was too happy to pretend otherwise.

"Why are you saying it like th-" the huge grin was slowly slipping from Diggs' face, "...hey, Rafa - look at me," Diggs suddenly sounded all serious as he took Rafa's face in his hands, carefully examining his features, "Rafa, look at me."

Rafa let out a low chuckle, "Diggs, you know I think you're handsome and all that, but I don't like you that way," he joked.

"You're being weird," Diggs furrowed his eyebrows, "- and your pupils are huge. Have you been doing lines in the bathroom?"

"Maybe," Rafa laughed, unable to stop himself from revealing his dirty little secret, "why? You want some? I still have a few hits left," he padded his breast pocket.

"You know I don't do that shit anymore..." Diggs let go of Rafa with a sigh and looked away from him.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're a fucking saint now," Rafa said a bit more harshly than he had intended to. Ever since Diggs had met Emmy, he had been boring as hell.

Diggs chose not to comment on Rafa's low blow, and managed to keep his calm, "I thought you'd stopped, bruh."

"Morris made me an offer I couldn't refuse," Rafa laughed in an accent halfway between Tony Montana and Vito Corleone.

"Yeah well, I'm not the only one who thought you were done fucking around," Diggs said seriously. He was having none of Rafa's jokes, "I just saw your girl downstairs. She wants to talk to you."

It took a few seconds before Rafa understood, but when he finally grasped Diggs' words, he felt the blood drain from his face and his mouth run dry, "what? No, you're kidding me..."

"Nope," Diggs sighed, "I've been running around trying to find you for fifteen minutes..."

"Shit! What the fuck do I do?" Rafa said in a panicked voice, licking his lips frantically, "I told her I was sober! If she sees me like this, she'll never take me back."

"Yeah, well you better pray that you don't run into her."

Rafa ran his hand through his hair, "fuck I'm screwed. She's downstairs?"

"Was fifteen minutes ago."

"Alright, I'm jumping out this window. You stall her, tell her that I got sick or something."

"You can't jump out this window?" Diggs said incredulously, "we're 50 feet up, if you do that, you die! Just walk out the doo- ...oh shit, dude, we're blown. She's here. She's coming over."

"Fuck! Can I still bolt?"

"Of course not!"

"Well how do I look? Alright?"

"You look-" Diggs cut himself off, "...maybe just try and avoid her looking into your eyes, okay?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"The light in here's paying you a favour but apart from that you're gonna have to pull yourself together. You brought this upon yourself," Diggs said harshly before his demeanour changed completely as his eyes interlocked with yours over Rafa's shoulder, "heeeeey," he smiled broadly, "look who I found."

Rafa slowly turned around and met you. Your stunning beauty - as always - immediately knocking him to the ground. He couldn't believe that it had been four weeks since the last time he'd seen you. He'd do anything to get you back!

"Rafa," you nodded formally with a stiff face. Rafa couldn't help but make a mental note on how weird it was to see you without a smile on your lips. You were normally always so happy. He had done this, he reminded himself.

"Hey baby," he whispered, the words weirdly familiar in his throat.

You briefly raised your eyebrows while looking away from him, clearly uncomfortable by the sound of your old pet name.

"Sorry," he continued, "force of habit. ...I'm just happy to see you."

Your gaze slowly found his face, and Rafa prayed that you couldn't see his coke-eyes from where you were standing.

"Well..." you said and clicked your tongue, "I'd like to talk to you."

"I'd like to talk to you too," Rafa said quietly.

"And you're sober? Like you said on my voicemail?"

"Yes," Rafa breathed, "completely sober," he lied thickly, hyper-aware of how awkward it was with Diggs shuffling nervously beside him. He was uncomfortably rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Good," you finally let out a small smile, "do you want to sit down?"

"Yeah," Rafa nodded.

"Yeah, I'll - uh - I'll leave you to it," Diggs cleared his throat and padded Rafa between the shoulder blades as a way of wishing him good luck.

"Thanks man," Rafa muttered before he followed you down to a vacant booth in the corner of the room. Instead of sitting down opposite you, he made sure to occupy the seat next to you, hoping that it would minimise the risk of you looking into his eyes. He just had to pretend that he was sober until the high quieted down. Fourty-five more minutes - Less if he was lucky.

"So, how've you been?" You said quietly as you were both overlooking the dance floor, avoiding looking directly at each other.

"Not good," Rafa said quietly, "like shit, actually... how about you?"

"Yeah, well I guess 'shit' sums it up neatly... How's sober life?"

"Oh, it's - yeah - it's - it's great!" He said, the lie thick in his throat, "I feel so much better now." He knew how much he had hurt you, and he knew how difficult it must be for you to face him after you'd said that you never wanted to see him again - which just really only made his lying so much worse. Fuck, how he hated himself for what he had done. What he was still doing.

Your eyes darted across his face before your gaze settled on a spot just below his chin. He was relieved that you weren't staring him square in the eyes. "I was so happy to hear your voicemail," you whispered, "you really flushed your stash?"

"Yes," he croaked.

"I'm glad that you're finally taking care of yourself," he couldn't make out your face in the dark but he could hear a hint of happiness to your voice that you were clearly trying to suppress. It made him feel horrible.

"Yeah, I want to stay sober for you," he said slowly. At least that wasn't a lie.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," you said quietly, the happiness definitely shining through now.

Rafa's heart was fluttering in his chest, and he felt the coke-induced euphoria run amok in his brain, "...does that mean you'll forgive me?" All his senses were heightened.

"It's a step in the right direction" you said quietly, still not looking directly at him, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too baby," Rafa said quietly and boldly took your hand in his.

Finally, you looked up at him, and to avoid you noticing his bloodshot eyes with the dilated pupils, he took a quick decision, leaned in and crashed his lips against yours.

Luckily, you mistook his desperation for passion and fiercely kissed him back, your hand releasing itself from his, and instead caressing his neck. In-between kisses you managed to mumble, "I'm still... mad... at you."

"I know," Rafa mumbled, enjoying the familiar feeling of your lips against his. Your hands switched to caressing his torso, and your small fingers travelled over his stomach and up his chest, coming to a halt over his heart. It was racing against his ribcage and he had no idea whether it was due to the coke or due to the heap of emotions he felt in his chest. He couldn't believe he was kissing you again. He had completely written it off no more than half an hour ago.

Your right hand moved away from his heart but came to a sudden halt when you felt a small bump in Rafa's breast pocket. Still kissing him, you ran your fingers over the bump a few times before you remembered that it was where he always kept his coke. Quickly, you pulled your lips away from his.

"Wait, no, don't take kissing away from me," he hummed, completely unaware of the discovery you'd just done.

You were looking at his euphoric face with the closed eyes and the swollen lips as you moved your hand over his breast pocket once more.

When Rafa realised what was going on his eyes flew open and he spluttered, "it isn't what you think!"

But he was too slow to react, and before he had had the chance to move away, your fingers went inside his breast pocket and grabbed the small bag from there. "You've got to be kidding me!" You said angrily as you held his coke between your fingertips.

"Baby, I can explain," Rafa said quickly while desperately grabbing your wrist.

"Rafa, you fucking idiot! Don't touch me!" You wrestled yourself out of his grip, got up from your seat, and fast-paced towards the door.

"Baby! Baby!" Rafa yelled out as he ran after you.

"Don't touch me!" You cried, attracting the attention of everyone in your path.

You stormed out the door, Rafa at your heel desperately clinging to every inch of you that he could reach. When you reached the curb outside, he finally managed to run up in front of you, stopping you in your tracks, "baby, I can explain!" He said desperately.

"You said you'd flushed it all!" You were screaming at him now, the tears running down your face.

"It was a mistake, baby, I swear I didn't mean to. I flushed it all, I promise. It's just a setback."

"When did you buy this, Rafa?" You said through gritted teeth, "how long did you manage to stay sober before you decided you wanted to throw it all away?"

Rafa looked away from you, he was so embarrassed by himself, "Morris called and I tried to say no, I really did! Baby, I tried so hard to resist it. But he was persistent."

"Well, did he force you to buy?" You hissed. You were having none of his excuses.

"...No." Rafa admitted.

"When did you buy it?" You emphasised every word, "before or after you called me last weekend?"

"After..."

"When? How long after? When did you have your setback?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! I need to know if you did it because you were physically craving it, because you just felt like getting high, or if you did it because you’d thrown the thought of us away when I didn’t answer you.”

"I tried to fight it, I swear I tried to fight it," he was getting choked up.

"Rafa, tell me when you bought it."

He considered shooting you a lie but he didn't want to fuck up any more. "I bought it tonight..." he finally muttered under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

"You're not serious!! You bought it tonight?" You bellowed, "are you trying to tell me that you planned on throwing away your soberness tonight? That if I hadn't shown up, you'd be high as balls right now?"

Rafa didn't say anything, he just looked at you with huge eyes, the embarrassment evident on his face - and first then did you notice his blood-shot eyeballs with the abnormally large pupils that had taken over most of the green that was normally present.

"No..." you whispered when you realised, "no, no, no..." you groaned quietly, clutching your chest, "you're high right now?" The heartbreak was evident in your voice.

Rafa sent you a pained look. He fucking hated himself.

"You're high..." You stated in a whisper, the tears were streaming down your face, "you lied."

He had broken your heart. Again.

"I - I didn't mean to," he croaked, "I was just so happy to see you. I knew you wouldn't want to talk to me if I told you the truth."

"So you planned on telling me when?"

"I don't know," he croaked, "I didn't think it through. I've been sober for three weeks. Tonight's just a small setback. Baby, I swear, I'll block Morris and I'll flush this baggie right now if I can just get you back," Rafa was begging, “I’ll stop if you tell me to!”

"Rafa, how many times do I have to tell you," you cried, "You have to stop because you want to. Not because I tell you to stop! I don't care about the snorting! I don't care that you party and get high! You've done lines of my tits several times for God's sake! But I can't live with the constant lying that has become part of it!"

Fuck, Rafa knew what you were building to. His life's biggest mistake. He had it coming, he knew it. He deserved it. He was a fucking cheating coke-head and he hated it. "Please don't bring it up," he sobbed.

You didn't listen to him. You had to confront him with it because he clearly hadn't understood. "Rafa, you fucked another girl! And you were so high that you didn't even realise it! And when you woke up the next day and saw what you'd done, you lied about your whereabouts and the fact that you'd been high as fuck! I had to learn about it through her!" You were sobbing, "...and instead of staying home and comforting me, you lied about having to go to the studio, and you met up with Morris and you got high! Again! If knowing that you're breaking my heart with your constant lies doesn't make you want to quit, I'm not sure what will."

"I want to stop!" he sobbed. He had never felt so horrible before, "I love you, I want to be with you," he sniffled and took your hand, "please give me another chance! I'll stop snorting. I'll stop lying. I'll do anything for you."

It looked as if you were contemplating his words but the look in your eyes darkened suddenly and you let out a whisper, "no Rafa!" as you pulled your hand away from his.

"Baby, please!" He pleaded desperately, "I love you."

"You love coke more," you whispered.

"I have a problem," Rafa tried desperately, "I know. I can't stop. But I'll get help. I'll do whatever you want me to do!"

"Rafa, if you stop snorting because I tell you to stop, it will never last! You love getting high!"

"That's not true... it's pathetic," he cried.

"Rafa, honey,” you said quietly, “- ask yourself this; would you be throwing away this baggie and deleting Morris' number if I wasn't leaving you because of it?"

"Yes," he croaked immediately.

You took a deep breath of air, hurt written all over your face, "Love," you sighed desperately as a fresh wave of tears started streaming down your face, "you're lying again..." you sobbed, and put the baggie in the palm of his hand and folded his fingers around it.

"I'm flushing it," he croaked.

"Do whatever you want," you whispered and looked him in the eye, "We're not together anymore. I'm done - it's over,” you said as you slowly turned around and started walking away from him.

“No, no, no! Please come back!”

“No Rafa… This time I'm serious,” you said before you started walking again.

This time, Rafa didn't run after you. He just watched you walk further and further away from him as your hands dried the tears off of your face every two seconds. He imagined you stopping, imagined the hurt look you'd send him. How he'd run over to you and take you in his arms. Imagined how he'd apologise and you'd both hug and cry and kiss it out. But you didn't stop. You didn't send him any look at all. And he didn’t run to you, he was glued to the pavement.

He stood as if frozen in time and looked after you even long after you'd disappeared around the corner. Suddenly, however, he noticed that he was still clutching the baggie in his closed fist. Slowly, he opened the palm to reveal the beautiful mother-of-pearl-coloured powder. He contemplated dropping it down the gutter next to him. It would all be so easy.

But instead, he closed his fingers around it and pocketed it right above his broken heart. It would help relieve the terrible thunder that he felt rolling over him. It brought along a storm of emotions. A hurricane of regrets. And he was desperate to get high.

[santastic]

the big, bad wolf || hwang hyunjin oneshot

》》 pairing: hyunjin x female reader

》》 summary: every year, you and the boys celebrate halloween with a party at hyunjin's - who just so happens to be your mortal frenemy. every year, you all dress up. this year, however, you decide to make it a bit more interesting: everyone picks an outfit for their random secret santa partner. it seems like a bit of innocent fun, but felix has an idea...

》》 word count: 2.4k

》》 genre/tags: halloween au, not quite e2l but e2 like...sexy tension???, suggestive themes (mostly just implications), a little bit of crack lmao

》》 warnings: cliche cheesy dirty flirting (come on hyunjin you're better than this), thicc romantic and sexual tension, reader is a simp in denial, suggestive themes, implied smut at the end, talk of biting but no actual biting, reader has dom vibes, hyunjin is bold until someone else is bolder

》》 notes: my first oneshot on this blog! I already wrote a halloween drabble, but I felt like writing something bigger than that and my friend (I see u vi) inspired me by suggesting some spicy hyunjin content. n e ways, happy halloween everyone! and if u don’t celebrate halloween, I hope u have a lovely weekend <3

navigation || skz masterlist

Halloween is always fun with your friend group. I mean, it's fun anyway - lots of cheap candy, neighbourhood celebrations, an excuse to get way too drunk - it's just a lot more fun with eight other crackheads.

You guys have a sort of tradition going by now, even though each year is a bit different. Hyunjin throws the party, Minho brings the alcohol and hides it from Chan until it's too late to stop everyone from getting shitfaced, Jeongin and Felix bring ungodly amounts of candy, and Jisung is a skeleton (literally every single year - it started when you called Tate Langdon's skeleton makeup hot, and it never ended).

Everyone (except Jisung) keeps their costume a secret - unless they're Chan and Felix, in which case they do couple costumes and keep it a secret from everyone else. Sometimes you even decide on a theme, like the year before the last, where everyone was supposed to dress as their favourite Pokemon. This inevitably led to intense fighting roleplays to assert dominance as your respective type, and in order to spare your reputation in the neighbourhood, you decided the next theme would be a little less wild.

This year, the theme was 'secret Santa costumes', meaning you each picked a random name from a hat to decide who you would be buying a costume for and a few days before Halloween, you were given your own costume to wear to the party by whoever pulled your name from the hat of destiny.

Technically that's not how secret Santa works, but no one questions Chan when it comes to holiday business.

You just so happened to get Jisung, and while the temptation to keep the skeleton thing going just for the meme was definitely there, you ultimately decided he should be a classic bedsheet ghost - except with no eye or hand holes cut out. You know, to add a little sprinkle of chaos to his already very chaotic life.

The lovely boy who decided your spooky fate was Felix, who had coincidentally been in charge of buying Hyunjin’s costume too - when you asked why, he said it was because the number of people was uneven, so he had kindly volunteered to take on an extra. You had honestly expected him to pick something weird or wild for you, so you were quite surprised by the outfit he had settled on.

"Is this...little red riding hood?" you had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the dress and hood in your hands.

"Yep! I saw it the other day and I thought it would be nice to go for one of the classics, you know?" he had explained, smiling as if he was ever so proud about his decision. Something about the hint of mischief in his eyes made you suspicious, but you had let it slide. "You don't mind, right?"

No, you didn't mind. You had given Jisung a ghost costume, so you didn’t really have room to speak on the originality of Felix’s decision. Besides, the dress didn’t look too cheap, nor did it look especially short, and the hood-cape made you feel way too powerful for someone wearing a $20 Target costume.

So you really didn't mind at all, until it came to the day of the party. Now, as you stand in the doorway to Hyunjin’s apartment, you suddenly mind a lot more.

”Lee Felix, I’m going to decorate the lawn with your fucking intestines, oh my god!” you whisper-yell to the boy who conveniently manages to dart away with the excuse of needing to help Jeongin open all the candy bags. Your angry eyes follow his retreating blue form - Chan picked his outfit this year, and of course he decided Felix should be an Among Us character.

Everyone in the group knows about the slight tension (read: obvious beef) between you and Hyunjin. Technically speaking, you’re friends. He invites you to his parties, you hang out with him when he’s with the boys. It’s just that neither of you can stand each other, because you’re both very bold and even more stubborn.

Whenever the two of you are together, you bicker like children and it’s pretty much endless. You could probably throw insults (and the occasional murder threat) at each other all day if the other members didn’t interrupt, and on those days you’d be more than happy to teach Hyunjin a lesson with a nice, strong punch in the nose if the opportunity were ever to present itself.

So, with this in mind, it’s quite clear why you’re planning Felix’s murder when you see Hyunjin walking around as the big, bad wolf.

You’re genuinely considering sneaking out the front door before anyone else sees you and running back to your apartment (because Felix just so happens to be your ride home), but fate decides to mess with you and suddenly, Hyunjin locks eyes with you from across the living room.

The way a huge smile instantly graces his pretty face sends a rush of butterflies, followed by anger, through you as you stare back at him. His clip on wolf ears are admittedly quite cute, but the fake fangs he’s wearing send your thoughts in a very different direction. As he makes his way over, you suddenly wish you had followed Felix to the kitchen - at least they keep the alcohol in there. In his living room, you’ve got no choice but to deal with Hyunjin while sober.

”Well, would you look at that? Seems like I found my little red riding hood.” he teases with a wink, leaning against the wall beside the door.

When you scoff at him, he gives you another big grin and you can’t help but stare at the fangs again. The vibrant blue contact lenses he’s wearing make his gaze feel intense even when he’s smiling, and the way his long, blonde hair falls freely gives him a glow that’s both angelic and positively demonic. He looks so annoyingly handsome, as per usual; if only his personality wasn’t the personification of the words ‘cocky asshole’. You can’t help but think it’s a huge waste of beauty.

“Excuse me-” you begin, ready to start the first round of arguing, but he cuts you off like the annoying brat he is.

“You’re excused,” he says, thinking his comment was very smart, and if it wasn’t a night meant for fun and games, you might’ve killed him on the spot.

“Fine, excuse you. I’m not your little red riding hood. In fact, I’m not your anything, thank you very much,” you snap, brushing past his tall figure as you head to the table the boys have set up to the side. There’s an array of Halloween-themed food, prepared by Chan, and you settle for a red velvet cupcake decorated with black frosting and what you assume are meant to be cat ears poking out of it.

“Right, sure, but we’re still matching tonight. It’s kind of like-”

This time, you cut him off. “It’s not like Chan and Felix. It’s not. We’re not wearing couple costumes, so don’t say it.”

He shuts his mouth (finally) and you take it as your cue to leave before he says something else to piss you off. Unfortunately, he seems to have the desire to ruin your night further and chooses to follow you on your journey.

“So anyway, I guess this was Felix’s plan, right?” He gestures to your costumes. “Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”

You don’t bother to address the second part of what he said and instead just nod, scanning the room for the previously mentioned mastermind. As soon as you can get your hands on that boy, you swear you’ll slaughter him for subjecting you to Hyunjin’s torturous teasing all night.

“He was already on thin ice after trying to tell me Bulbasaur is a better starter than Charmander, but now he’s actually dead to me,” you growl out once you spot him sitting beside Minho, laughing happily with his classic red solo cup and a slice of chocolate cake. Jeongin sits beside them, tearing open bags of candy with no assistance from Felix, because of course he was lying about helping him earlier.

Hyunjin laughs softly and you curse your heart for skipping a beat at the sound. Sometimes it feels like your head hates Hyunjin while your body is stupid enough to like him, and it’s part of the reason why you hate talking to him so much. Every time you stop throwing insults and sass at him and instead sit back and listen to what he has to say, a part of you realises you don’t exactly have a proper reason for disliking him. He’s not all that bad, and sometimes you even find yourself laughing at his jokes and witty remarks.

But you’d really rather not go through the endless cycle of those thoughts right now, especially when the cause of your problems is standing beside you eating a chocolate bar.

“I have to say, though,” you comment as you turn to look him up and down, “the big, bad wolf concept suits you pretty well.”

Before he can accept the compliment, you continue. “You’re both big, hairy beasts who dress like grandmas.”

The obvious offence on his face is so satisfying you almost wanna snap a photo to reflect on this moment in the future, but you refrain from doing so. He would just pose anyway, and the photo would probably end up making your stupid heart flutter again.

“Well, at least you think I’m big. Besides, if dressing like a grandma gets me closer to eating you, then I suppose it’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” he whispers in a husky, seductive voice that kind of makes you want to choke-slam him, but you suspect he might enjoy that anyway.

It angers you when he makes flirty comments like that, because as annoying as they are and despite you knowing full well he only says it to get under your skin, it still makes your heart race every time. Maybe in another universe, Hyunjin is a sweet boy who innocently flirts with you and brings you roses instead of a big, bad bitch who’s just acting like a horny teenager. Annoyingly enough though, you think you’d fall for him either way.

You turn away with the intention of finally escaping to the kitchen to grab something to drink, hoping to settle the thoughts dancing around your head, but he reaches for your wrist. The feeling of his fingers pressing warmth into your skin just makes your head spin even more, and you’re so distracted you don’t pull away from him.

"Aw, don’t run away now. Are you scared of me, little red? There’s no need to be, I’m just joking. I won’t bite unless you beg me to."

You pull your arm back as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hyunjin has a lot of things (a severely irritating personality, a stupidly handsome face for such an asshole, a loud voice solely meant for pissing you off on a daily basis, the list goes on), but the thing he definitely has most is the fucking audacity.

However, the most annoying part by far is the way you feel your face heat up when you register the last thing he said. You’d rather die than let him make you flustered, so you shake your head slightly to clear those thoughts from your mind and look him in the eye again.

"Scared? Me?" you scoff, staring him down with a steady glare and if he was anyone else, he'd probably shiver in fear.

Unfortunately, he is not anyone else. He is Hwang Hyunjin, and Hwang Hyunjin does not shiver; he beams with a smug grin and makes your blood boil.

"Mhm. Look at you. You’re basically dressed as my prey tonight, babe." He purrs the pet name like the absolute fuckboy he is. "And sure, the real you is feisty, but you're all bark and no bite."

The overly confident, proud smirk on his face makes him look like a damn peacock flaunting its feathers, and you decide then and there that you'll do anything to get rid of it.

"All bark," you echo his words, walking towards him slowly, "and no bite, huh?"

You swear you see his eyes widen for a split second at your change in demeanor before the stupid smirk returns, and the little rush of victory you feel from catching him off guard is enough to keep you walking forward.

His gaze never leaves yours, especially when you're standing on the tips of your toes in front of him, noses just barely brushing against each other. Your hands grip his shoulder to balance you, and you run a finger over his collarbone up towards his cheek, where you gently cup his face. The small distance between the two of you means you can hear his slightly uneven breathing and see the curiosity swirling in his bright blue eyes as he waits for your next move.

You reach a hand up and thread your fingers through his long, bleach blonde hair, and his breath hitches when you gently tug at it. Even his wolf ears almost seem to droop submissively. He doesn't dare move, but his eyes keep flicking down to your lips and back up again.

"Now, that's just not true at all, is it?" you whisper, tilting your head as if waiting for an answer, but he can't find the words to form a witty response. It’s about time he learned some manners, really, even if he needed your guidance for that.

"I'm warning you now," you continue, "you might wanna watch your tone. I might look like your prey, but I promise I bite harder than you do, babe."

You make sure to emphasise the pet name, purring it in the same way he did minutes before. He bites down on his bottom lip, and the way his fangs press into them makes you lick your own lips nervously. It seems as though he can't take the tension anymore, because he goes to lean in and finally close the distance between the two of you as his hands find your hips.

Of course, you'd never let him have that control, especially after his bold attitude from earlier. Even though the temptation to lean in is certainly there, you step away from him and smile sweetly.

"Learned your lesson yet, puppy?"

He doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly still taking in what just happened. When he registers your question, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought - the way a dog might, funnily enough - before he hums quietly.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should teach me once more, little red,” he suggests, voice low and slightly breathless, “but preferably a bit more in depth this time.”

- ᴇ ɴ ᴅ -

(A/N: AHHHHH I haven’t written a oneshot in SUCH a long time oh my god,,,,, it was a lot of fun tho even if I’m not super confident writing full things. this one was short anyway so I kinda feel like it doesn’t count, but I’m still v happy to finally post my first skz oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3)

© santastic  —  all rights reserved. reposting, translating, copying and/or stealing is prohibited. ask permission if you wish to create anything inspired by my original ideas.

[mypimpademia]

SFW alphabet with Kuroo Tetsuro

Kuroo x reader

TW: Maybe some swearing

Note: You can also request SFW alphabets for other characters on my character list if you'd like

Template creds:

https://phantom-nen.tumblr.com/post/624557493194047488/sfw-alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kuroo is very affectionate. Usually shows it through lots of kisses and hugs.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How did the friendship start?)

He'd probably be the crackhead ass best friend that convinces you to do dumb shit with them.

It would most likely start in middle school in a super cliche way. He'd probably be running in the halls and run into you, say sorry really fast then keep running. And the next day come to give you a real apology and you guys just hit it off.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Kuroo loves to cuddle, and khen cuddling with him, hes always the big spoon. Has your back to him chest with his arms around you, while you're sitting up, chest to chest laying down or on your sides, anything where he can have you super close really.

Hes also the type to be reluctant to letting you get up to use the bathroom because he doesn't want to stop

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Once hes absolutely sure that you're the one, he'll start wanting to settle down. But he won't actually do it till he's ready.

He at least has basic knowledge, he can make spaghetti, rice, a grilled cheese, all of that, but can't do anything super complex. He definitely has potential to learn though.

He's pretty good at cleaning, it just the staying clean part that doesn't always work. I feel like he lives in chaotic cleanliness, meaning it'll look out of order but he knows where everything is. But if you simplify it and put everything into small units or something, he'll be really clean.

E = Ending (If they break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The longer you've been together, the easier he'll let you down, but the harder it'll be for him.

Depending on why you're breaking up, he'll talk it out with you. If you're going out on good terms, he'll ask if you'd like to stay friends. But if its on bad terms, he'll cut all ties with you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel commitment? How quickly do they want to get married?)

Like I said on domestic, he'll want to settle down and get married once he realizes he's got the right person. Doesn't really care when, as long as youre both ready and able to do it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, he play fights a lot and gives really tight hugs, but he wont if you ask him not to.

Emotionally, hes pretty soft for you. He'll open up to you when he feels a good amount of trust, and he'll make if clear that he'll be your shoulder to cry on when you need it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Kuroo loves hugs, and he hugs you whenever he can. Usually hugs you in an almost back breaking grip, he might pick you up and spin you around too.

L = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Always said it when you guys were friends, and when you were dating he kept saying it. But never said it in a romantic way till about 10 months into your relationship, so decently fast

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Kuroo is confident, and doesn't get jealous too often. But when he does, he gets pretty jealous. He'll get super touchy with you, hold your hand, and your waist. If you're talking to someone he'll just stare at them, and drag you away when he reaches his limit.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kuroos kisses are usually rough, and passionate. But they'll be softer if he's in a soft mood.

Kisses your lips and face the most, and if youre short than him he'll kiss your forehead and the top of your head.

He really only ever likes kisses on the lips and jawline. He'll take anywhere else, but those are his favorite places.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kuroo is the type to get used as a jungle gym by little kids. But he'll probably play tag and hide and seek with them. He's like the fun dad type around little kids, and his parental side come out around them.

When theyre not playing, he's lying down with all of them watching a Disney movie while they're hugging him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Kuroo likes to sleep in, so mornings with him are spent going in and out of sleep while you hold each other. And once you're completely awake, you'll probably lay in bed for about an hour just talking.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Kuroo is a night owl, so the two of you will stay up, playing games, talking eating, etc. Then you'll go to bed around 1 - 3 am

O = Open (When would they start revealing themselves to you? Do they say everything all at once, or wait awhile to reveal things slowly?)

Since you guys were best friends before you were dating, there wasn't much to open up about. But opening up romanticly took him around 6 months. He's an open book, so there wasn't too much to say, so he said it all at one.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Kuroo is super nonchalant, so he really does ever get mad. It takes a lot to make him angry, so don't expect to see him heated too often

Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Kuroo surprisingly remembers a lot about you. He doesn't remember everything you say word for word, but he knows a decent amount. He knows you favorite color, food, family names (even if you've only mentioned them once), favorite flower, etc.

R = Remember (Whats their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first "I love you" will forever be his favorite. It was such a soft and vulnerable moment, he just knew it'd be something he'd never forget

S = Security (How protectively are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Kuroo let's you freely talk to anyone, but if he gets a weird vibe from someone, or youre talking to someone that he knows isn't good, he'll make sure to keep an eye on you.

Normally either keeps his distance and watches you from afar, or stands next to you with an arm around you.

Doesn't really want protection, he wants to be the one protecting you. But if he had to choose, it'd be to defend him when hes mot there to defend himself.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, and everyday tasks)

Kuroo is a very driven and passionate person, so he puts a lot of effort towards your relationship. However, it will falter if he sees that his partner won't reciprocate that energy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Kuroo likes giving tight hugs, and rough kisses, and he's even rough during play fights. So his bad habit is that sometimes he gets too rough, hits you a little to hard during play fights, and squeezes you too tight during hugs, but nothing that hurts for more than a few minutes.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Again, Kuroo is very confident, so he never gets too concerned with his looks. People even call him bed head, which is probably true. He'll come out of the house without changing his hair from how it was after waking up and still feel like he looks good.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Once he's really into your relationship, he'll definitely feel like something is missing when hes not with you. Hes not clingy about it, but its not the same without you

X = Xtra (Random hc about them)

Kuroo takes a lot of pictures of you to the point where you make up 50% of his gallery. He even has them categorized; selfies, full body photos, cute pictures of you sleeping, you making dumb faces, etc.

Y = Yuck (What are somethings they wouldn't like? Either in general or in a partner.)

Kuroo wouldn't enjoy a partner that has nothing that they strive for. They don't have wants, or a goal, they're just there.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Kuroo moves around a lot in his sleep, but when you're next to him he moves a lot less. And he's a generally heavy sleeper, but tends to wake up if you even get out of bed to use the bathroom.

[jjk-biased]

FATE'S GAMES SPECIAL

*not canon or part of the storyline, sorry 😔✋🏽

smau masterlist

content that didn't make the cut:

— chapter 25 alt end:

𝗶𝗳 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱

“Daniel Y/L/N,” you gritted out.

“Long time no see, sister.”

The fucking nerve of this guy to even have the face to meet you. He somehow still upheld a small smile, which made you more livid.

“Why are you here?”

“To make amends. Is that too bad?” He shrugged lightly, too casual for your liking.

This was the asshole that had caused you a lot of years of suffering. He was the reason you had to shed blood, sweat, and tears to simply finish your degree in college. He was the root of your problems, the cause of why you had trust issues.

Mainly, he was the reason why the only people you could call your family was the seven best friends who took you in.

“You lost that chance years ago, Daniel!”

You tried your best not to let the anger within you take the wheel. If it did, you were sure you had to leave Seoul with a case of murder stained in your records.

“I’m leaving,” You murmured, snatching Jungkook’s hand and storming off to God knows where.

He followed you wherever you went though. No matter how many turns you took, he was hot on your tail. It took so much in you not to break Jungkook’s hand from the frustration you felt.

“Just give me a chance to explain, sister,” He pleaded.

You finally heard the desperation leak in his tone. Giving up, though not letting your guard down, you allowed it. You gave him yet another chance to redeem himself.

With reluctance, Jungkook left you to talk to Daniel. After reading his last message and texting Hoseok, you closed your phone.

Let’s relive the years of anguish, you sarcastically cheered internally.

“Don’t call me sister. That title died with you three when you moved to America without even so much as telling me,” You breathed out, tears trying their best not to fall from your eyes.

Daniel visibly flinched at that jab. He was a shitty brother after all.

“I… I didn’t mean for it to happen…”

“What a shitty excuse. You didn’t mean for it to happen? What bullshit is that?”

“I never thought they’d take it too far,” He whispered, unable to keep eye contact with you. If he did, he would see how much pain he had caused you.

You chuckled rather sarcastically.

“Yet they did. And you never did anything, did you Dani?” You sneered, the nickname that left your mouth didn’t feel as warm as it did.

Growing up with a traditional family wasn’t something you both could escape from. Your parents had a love-less marriage, meant only to expand whatever business they had.

As first-born, Daniel was expected of a lot of things. Intelligence, charm, and any other business-related characteristic that should help them prosper. But he wasn’t any of those things. He didn’t take interest in the entire idea. Instead of stocks and investments, he wanted modelling. Instead of maths, he wanted fashion.

Neither your mother nor father were having it.

So while he was forced to sacrifice his childhood for your parents, you had the freedom to exercise yours.

He’d be gifted with various accountancy and business related textbooks and would watch as you played with your toys and dolls. He never had those.

Your parents didn’t pay mind to your hobbies. They didn’t mind that you often geeked out at every video game you loved. They were too focused on making Daniel the CEO he will be.

He was angry. He was envious.

But he would be lying if he said he didn’t love you.

You were an empath at heart and would often cheer him up when the pressure was too much. He could still remember when you discovered him breaking down after a certain scolding happened— you dropped everything to rush to his side and say “It’s okay, Dani. I’m here for you.”

The memory of the countless cupcakes you had attempted to make just to make him smile was still etched in his mind. They weren’t the best tasting cupcakes out there, but they were made by you. And it made everything okay.

However, every thread snaps when it reaches its breaking point.

He had reached his— his envy became far too strong than the care had for you.

It was supposed to be a light remark so their parents could give him some sort of leeway in life. But the anger rushed out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop the word-vomit from pouring out.

He watched your parents’ treatment change and had to witness you take the burnt for him. You were now the one they had criticized at every twitch of a finger. They suddenly turned against you, angry at how you “wasted” your life with videogames.

He regretted every single thing he had said.

Perhaps it’s too late now.

“I had no power over them, you know that,” he muttered, taking your silence after he had explained everything as a cue to speak.

“You know… I never really minded them moving to America. But even you left me, Dani,” you croaked out.

“I’m sorry.”

“I became broke when I entered college. I had to work different jobs and eventually stick with the career I have.”

“I’m sorry,” He whispered once again, hands clasped tightly.

“I had no one else to rely on for a few years until my friends showed up,” You sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

It seemed more like a mantra by now. While it wasn’t enough to compensate for each day you had to go by without anyone else, it eased your heart a little bit.

He had also mentioned that he was sent by his parents to fix whatever you two had for the sake of the company. Your fame would bring them benefits, they said. Your brother ignored whatever ulterior motive they had initially planned, and took this chance to finally own up to the shittiest fuck up he had done.

You were thankful for the honesty, sensing that he was true to his word.

“I can’t forgive you immediately, you know,” You reminded, fiddling your thumbs out of anxiety.

“I know. I don’t mind waiting.”

Your brother had finally returned to you.

Jungkook stood beside you as you two waved your brother goodbye. He insisted on holding your hand when you two bid Daniel adieu.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to Jungkook, who had been patiently waiting for you and Daniel to talk it out.

“I’m so—”

He cut you off by tightly engulfing you in his arms. Jungkook softly patted your head as he brought you closer with his other hand.

“I’m glad you’re okay, pumpkin,” Jungkook said ever so gently, resting his chin on your head.

Turning red at his gesture, you allowed yourself to melt in his arms and returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Thank you, kook. I can’t tell you that enough,” You murmured, feeling warm from his gentleness.

He had sadly broken up the hug soon after. It was the first time you’d seen his ears become red but you didn’t point it out.

Clearing his throat, he once again took your hand in his and led you to wherever the others were. He said you might get lost if he didn’t clutch one hand and it would be hard to find you because you were vertically inclined.

If everyone else heard his excuse, they’d definitely say Sure Jan.

You didn’t mind though, actually liking the feeling of his large hands encasing yours.

And if you did mind, you couldn’t actually speak. After all, Daniel decided to leave you with a few parting words that made you embarrassed and rattled.

“You seem to have a crush on your guard dog, N/N.”

Ah you should’ve smacked him when you had the chance. You? Have a crush on Him??? How ab...surd…

You honestly didn’t know anymore. But Jungkook’s hand in yours, you were certain that everything will now turn out fine.

Jungkook’s only problem now was how he’d be able to find the courage to say what he wanted to say earlier.

I like you, Y/N.

But he was content with whatever you two are now, your hands snugly fit with his.

*note: the reason i didn't chose this path is because it seems illogical. don't you think?

i mean,,, it won't be easy to forgive Daniel for what he had done,,, so i made him the bad guy ;-;) but it gets better in the end i swear!

also another reason was i really wasn't happy with how it turned out ;-;) seemed too rushed for them to make amends doesn't it?

this post is part of my special milestone event!

and another fate's game bonus is a q&a with the characters!! (but no one sent in asks throughout the week so it's still open) so if you have questions for the characters, send asks!!

taglist: @armymaknae @rjsmochii @chogiyeol-utopia @deolly @liitlefaiiery @patpus @br0ther-s @tyraparker @ancailinaerach @tae165 @cherrycolababie @nininek12 @atulipandarose @hannahdinse8 @hereforaus @thewariestofheads @thia-aep @diorhobii @seungcheoluwu @mipetronella @callmesenpaix @jungshookmeup @yoongisabby @parkchaeyoung1997 @alpaca1612 @bangtan-serendipity @karissassirak @fullsunkook @salty-for-suga @cholychi @smolbeaniejimin @netflix-batman-sleep @snickerdoodleeee @faeriegukkie @kpop4mysoul @crazylittlemay @theneighborhoodfangirl @ughtear @youurkryptonite @lovelyseomin @pureshinso @kawaiimusiccollection @aviwasabi21

permanent tag: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

[clussysposts]

ABC's with Alexei Stranger Things

{+18 warning Russian dialogue in bold italic}

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex) Say it with me ya'll: CUDDLES Doesn't matter the pace, whether the moment was rough or sweet, you bet Alexei will cuddle you afterward. He'll hold your head against his chest and rub circles around your back, but don't get too comfortable around this purring Russian because round two will soon commence.

B = Body part (their fav body part of theirs and their partner) Alexei can't get enough of your hair. He loves finger combing it to relax you and he's made a habit of twirling it around his index when you're close to him on the couch watching tv. During intimacy, doesn't matter the potion, he'll have his face buried in your hair. The smell of your shampoo and the softens of it against his face is his drug of choice at this point. Alexei was indifferent when it came to his appearance, but when you started calling his chubby cheeks cute every second you could he had no other choice but to believe it.

C= Cum CREAMPIES there I said it. But that's not all, oh no, if Alexei comes somewhere else, let's say your stomach, he will be overwhelmed with the image before him. As if in a trance, he'll start working his cum all over your soft stomach the same way he'd rub sunblock on your back. The first time he did this it caught you off guard. You bit your lip shyly as he made a slutty mess, and when the sensation of his big hand made you moan he whispered to himself, "My love looks so cute covered in my seed."

D = Dirty Secret There's honestly no secrets between you two. He has lost all shame around you and you love it.

E = Experience Alexei's sexuality peaked during college years. His priority was getting the best grades in the class, but like any other horny person, he didn't turn down the classmates that found his intellect plain out hot. Once getting tangled with the wrong people, there wasn't much time in his schedule to tend his needs...

F = Favorite position (graphic) Having you on your stomach, your sweet moans muffled by the pillow as he's pleasing you from behind is one of his favorite position... You straddling him? Heaven. Though that won't stop the Kamasutra and sexy dice from being used.

G = Goofy (are they more serious at the moment, or are they humorous, etc.) Boi is goofy 25/8 During sex isn't an exception! Looney Tunes has messed with that man's head, I tell ya. Now then, don't be surprised when he howls, whistles and stomps his foot like a horny wolf while you show off your new lingerie. You'll be mid moan when a wave of laughter hits you both hard enough to fall off the bed.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) When it comes to grooming, he doesn't do nor demand much from their partner (though a landing strip gets him going) He's area is low maintenance meaning the occasional trim is good enough.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment) Wishing to fuck the days away like two horny teenagers with no other care in the world but make the other one happy...then reality kicks in like a blow to the nuts, so you both end up late for work again. Yup, let's go with that ^_^ don't wanna get all corny n shit.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon) When you two were just friends, Alexei had no choice but to take matters in his own hands (literally) Now having reached a sexual relationship with you, he doesn't have the need as often. He rather you do the handy work for him. Two handjob puns?

K = Kink *clears throat*

L = Location The bed, a classic. It's way more comfortable there considering the length of time doing it, and if he's going to be unconscious afterward he might as well be in bed, to begin with. When he's feeling sentimental he'll ask you to meet him on the couch, like the first time.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Your smell, your laugh, your smile, the way you bite your thumb and drink from a straw, and suck on a lollipop, and when you curse in Russian and get on your tippy-toes to kiss him... You, just you and all of you all the time, bye.

N = NO You two crazy fucks are open to trying everything an anything, long as both of you are down for it.

O = Oral He'll devour you before going to work and call it the most impart meal of the day. Sooner or later one of you is getting fired.

P = Pace (fast, rough, slow, sensual? Etc.) All of the above at the same time with no warning.

Q = Quickie No such thing, unless you count the Oral headcanon.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) Alexei has taken risks, like that one time he almost made you crash your car through 7 Eleven because PERVERT OVER HERE had the great idea of touching you while driving.

S = Stamina (how many rounds and how long) To keep it short, as homeboy Newton once said, an object in motion stays in motion...with the exception of the same speed and direction. So yeah, until one taps out or it is time for work.

T = Toy Once comfortable enough you got your lovely toys out to play. The look on his face when you moved the pink vibrator over his go-to khaki pants was priceless, and after a few waves of pleasure, his face matched the toy! Your love was so eager to see you work your magic on him and yourself that he marked his pants. "Alexei, honey, do you wanna see what I did those lonely nights when you were the only thing in my mind?"

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) No teasing on his behalf. Who's he fooling? You both know he has it bad.

V = Volume He tried his best to keep quiet at first. You knew he was holding back a melody by the way he chewed his lip. Lovingly, you placed a hand on his jaw and tugged his lower lip with your thumb and begged to hear him... Baby boi couldn't hold his moans and grunts any longer from you. Him swearing in Russian? Fuck me up.

W = Wild Card (random headcanon) For the first Halloween together you thought it would be funny to dress as your hubby, Alexei. You wore his signature white button-down shirt and a pair of khakis that were folded at the bottom to accommodate your stature. Alexei was on the couch watching Looney Tunes when you took his glasses from behind to finish off your look. He turned around confused and looked at you up and down squinting. "How do I look?" You posed with jazz hands. "What exactly am I looking at?" He joked. Laughing you gave him back his glasses so he could see your outfit clearly. Seeing you had him lost for words. The love of his life wearing his clothing and looking THAT good in them????? Trick or Treat was out the window. Done. Tonight he had other plans in mind.

X = X-Ray Oh, he THICC

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive) With both your work schedules and fighting the government on the side Alexei finds himself wishing there were more numbers on the clock and an eighth day of the week so he could enjoy more domestic bliss with you.

Z = zzzz After so many rounds Alexei is ready to recharge. You cuddled up against his chest when suddenly he rolls on his back and lets out a snore. You giggle at the look on his face, all pink and warm to the touch and the cute twitching of his nose with every puff. You rest your head on his chest, the snoring lessening, to mumble an I love you before meeting him in the land of dreams.

Note: IDK what possessed me to write this MESS in one sitting but here we are hornier and dumber than before. If you make alphabets for Alexei please tag me. What was your fav letter if any?

[dreams-of-wings]

Impossible (6/8)

Imagine Billy Hargrove with a Mixed Race/Biracial S/O

Warnings: Racism, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, mild violence, you throw hands a lot, angst.

Masterlist

You stay blocking the window sill for a bit cuz you enjoy seeing him squirm.

Honestly, he is bad at this whole climbing thing and he's struggling to not fall on his ass.

You finally let him in after he almost falls.

You're laughing your ass off while he's climbing through your window and simultaneously having a heart attack.

"It would have been less of a hassle if you used the door."

"I didn't think your parents would be happy if someome like me came knocking on their door asking for you."

You raise a brow at this, someone like him?

After a minute it occurs to you.

"Oh you mean a violent, racist, douchbag, with a reputation that surpasses the devil?"

He frowns.

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Hargrove is very self aware, and very self conscious about himself, his actions, and his self worth.

He doesn't like being an asshole but it's all he knows.

He low-key is afraid of growing up to be like his father.

Even though he has that nagging voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he's already as bad as his dad, if not worse.

He hides it all under a mask of confidence, booze, and cigarettes.

It still doesn't make his actions okay.

You snap him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said my parents are out of town."

Now that he's in your room you noticed that Billy looked shaken up.

Billy Fucking Hargove, for once didn't have a scratch on him, but he looked like hell.

You question him.

It takes a while but he finally answers.

His dad got pissed at him because Max wasn't home, and he came hoping she would be here so he could drag her home.

You convince him to let you come along, because he is pissed and you know how he can get.

He caves and lets you tag along.

The next stop was Lucas' House.

Neither Max nore her son were there, but she said the kids all loved to go to Mike's house to play games.

Next stop is the Wheelers residence.

You dont know what's being said between Mrs. Wheeler and Billy, but knowing Billy and being able to read his body language- well. It takes everything in you to refrain from rolling your eyes and honking his horn (though you fail at not rolling your eyes).

I mean come on you guys are looking for Max, this is not the time to be flirting.

Fuck he went in.

You audibly groan and contemplate jacking his car to go look for his sister yourself, unfortunately he has the keys and you dont know how to hotwire a car.

Finally, he's out.

You forgive him because he comes out with a cookie in his mouth and has another one in his hand, which he gives to you.

"Hell, yes!!"

What?

Who the hell turns down food? And cookies at that. Home made cookies. And they're fresh.

Last stop was the the Byers house.

Fuck, Steve is there.

"Stay in the car."

"What? No!" Like hell you were going to let him beat up your friend.

"Stay in the fucking car!"

Steve seems both angry and hurt when he notices that you're in Billy's car.

You can't really hear what's being said, it's all muffled.

You panic a bit when Billy shoved Steve and you worry they'll start fighting.

"Shit!"

You burst out the car when you see Billy storming for the door, but stop to help Steve.

"Why the hell are you driving around with him?"

"He came to my place first, looking for Max and I offered to help him. What'd you say to piss him off?"

Steve gets mad, thinking your taking his side, and for the second time that night you find yourself rolling your eyes. "Why did you tell him you didn't know her? I tutor Max and her friends, and you babysit her friends, and you and I hang out, of course you would know her?"

You both stop arguing when you here a loud crash from inside the house.

"Damn it!" "Shit!"

You both walk in just in time to hear Billy threaten Lucas.

Fucking excuse you, Billy???

Steve decks him across the face, Billy taunts him, and this time an actual fight breaks out.

You try your best to get them both to stop fighting, but neither of them will listen to you, the voice of reason.

When Billy has Steve pinned to the floor and keeps punching him over and over again you finally get physical.

You tackle Billy off him while he's oblivious to his surroundings and use your hands and knees to pin his arms to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem, Billy?!"

You've never seen him look at you so angrily, probably because he feels a bit betrayed.

He somehow manages to roll you both over so now your stuck underneath him.

You flinch when he draws his fist back like he's going to hit you, but the next thing you know- there's a syringe sticking out the side of his neck.

"Holy shit!"

He gets up to go after Max, but promptly falls.

Your a bit shocked by Max's outburst.

Now her, you have never seen that angry before.

When they leave, you stay behind to look after Billy and move him to couch

He isn't happy when he wakes up.

He's actually really fucking pissed.

But he's still a little groggy from sleep and the drug (mostly the drug) so it's funny.

Help this child, he thought he was getting off the couch normally, but turns out he just rolled off and onto the floor face first.

Your freaking out and laughing all at once.

Slurred, "What the fuck's so funny?!?"

He needs aspirin and water like a hangover.

He falls asleep again after you get him back onto the couch, and you fall asleep on the floor propped up against the couch in a sitting position.

You don't wake up till the kids get back (Max wakes you up).

The both of you manage to get Billy to his car. He still asleep like a log.

You go to your place, and they spend the night - Max was worried their dad would be even more angry if they woke him up, and even more so if he caught you helping Billy and Max into the house.

The next morning was very #Domestic.

With You waking up to find Max already up and looking through your cabinets for food.

Suprise, you end up making breakfast for everyone!

Max wanted chocolate chip pancakes, so chocolate chip pancakes she shall get.

No suprise, Billy wakes up while you both are making the sausages and bacon.

Full plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes for everyone! Yay! 😀

Honestly the best morning the two of them have had for a while, but you won't catch either of them saying that outloud.

Max leaves to hang out with the others.

Billy still seems mad about the previous night.

"What, are you going to pout all morning? All day?"

"I dont pout."

"Oh I'm sorry, what would you prefer to call it- sulking? Brooding? Plotting my death?"

He tries to hide a snicker and lightly shoves you.

Going back to school the following Monday felt weird after everything that happened over the weekend.

You tried asking Steve what was up with all the drawings in Will's house, but he wouldn't budge.

Of course you tried asking Nancy and Jonathan too, but they acted like they didn't know anything.

The next few weeks were full of practice tests and prep assignments for finals.

You saw Billy less and less because you were hitting the books.

Sure he knew you were probably in the library, but after that weekend he wasn't sure how to go about interacting with you, or if he should do so anymore at all.

He kinda feels like you picked Steve over him.

He pops buy on Wednesday and almost gives you a heart attack. He's not surprised that you've been working yourself ragged, and your not surprised he hasn't even touched a text book (let's be honest, Billy doesn't strike me at the type of person to take notes in class, just pull out a pencil and paper to look like he's interested and go about his day).

Your freaking out, because finals but he doesn't flinch because you're like the smartest person he knows.

"Oh c'mon," he's managed to take your precious notes away, "You'll be fine, you're only stressing yourself out."

"Billy, I need those!"

"No you don't," He starts acting like he's reading the notes outloud, but he's getting the facts and formulas all wrong.

You correct him several times, and have actually started to chase him around the library.

Finally he closes the book after your sure you must have chased him around at least twice, "See, I told you. You don't need to study, you know this shit."

You both got kicked out of the library, again.

Billy is banned, but the librarian gives you one last chance...starting tomorrow.

You sigh in defeat, "Alright you proved your point, now give me my notebook back."

You reach for it.

"Nah," He raises it above his head so you can't reach it. Asshole.

Tommy and Carol show up and they think he's picking on you.

Neither of you sees them.

Tommy manages to snag the notebook, gives you an obnoxious laugh when you reach for it, and tosses it to Carol

"Give it back, shit face," Your mood went from playful to pissed in point zero seconds.

"What are you going to do about it, Heinz?"

Lord help you, you're about to throw hands again.

Billy snatches the book back and hands it to you, before looking at Tommy and Carol with a very stern expression.

"You idiots got anything better to do, huh?" He takes a few steps towards Tommy and for every step he takes, Tommy backs away.

Carol is distracted, which allows you to snatch your notebook back. She reaches for it again but you slap her hand away.

The message was very clear for them, so they take their leave and retreat back to wherever they came from.

Billy has lunch with you and manages to get you to skip the rest of school with him.

You don't want to miss during dead week, but the whole fiasco during your study period in the Library got you thinking- you need a break.

You also don't want the absent strike.

"You're such a goodie-two-shoes."

Peer pressure sucks.

You convince him to give you 30 minutes after the late bell rings to show up.

You go to class, set up your desk, the late bell rings, teacher calls role and marks you present. 7 minutes have passed.

You feign being ill.

It really wasn't hard. You just acted more tired than normal, threw in a couple "I have to stop what I'm doing because I have a headache," gestures. You even put your head down for a minute. You sit in the front so your body language is easy to pick up on and the teacher allows you to go to the nurses office when you ask. 12 minutes have passed.

When you get to the nurses office you throw the pass on the desk and storm into the private bathroom - closing the door behind you, before forcing yourself to dry heave. 27 minutes have passed.

You convince the nurse that it must be something you ate that's making you sick.

She gives you a pass and let's your teachers know you're sick and have gone home.

You meet Billy outside the school 30 minutes on the dot, he's surprised you actually came, and even more surprised that you lied well enough to get the teachers to excuse you for the rest of the day.

Of course you're upset when you see Tommy and Carol in the back seat, but you just roll your eyes and brush it off before climbing in shot gun.

Tommy and Carol are mocking you before you even get in.

"We didn't know the, mutt was coming along."

"How nice of you to bring something to entertain us, Billy."

Your looking at Billy through the corner of your eyes as he starts the car.

He waves you off, "Dont mind them."

You have no idea where you're going, or how long it will take so you pull out a book to read.

Before you can even open it, Carol snatches it from you, "What's the Nerd reading?!"

You roll your eyes again.

Tommy snatches it from the red head, "Stephan King. Christine."

"What's it?" Carol pipes up again, "Sappy romance novel?!"

"Wow, you both are actually uncultured, " you snatch the book away from Tommmy, "I'm impressed," and keep it out of his reach by out stretching your arm towards the dash, "Did it take all three of your brain cells to read that?"

Tommy tries to get his hands on you now, but you smack them away.

"Alright, alright!"

The three of you look surprised at Billy, "If you two don't quit your shit," he looks to the rearview mirror, "I'm kicking you out."

The rest of your ride was uneventful.

You arrive at Tommy's house.

His parents are also out of town.

But he lives in a large house with a pool and bar.

They're having an end of the year party and whoops you got dragged along.

You hadn't planned to be doing this with your time so you resort to studying more, much to Billy's behest, and Tommy and Carol's attempts to distract you.

You sit outside on a lawn chair next to the pool while they get everything prepped for the night.

Not much happens till it starts turning dark out, Billy calls you for help with something and when you leave you don't notice Carol and Tommy going for your stuff.

You can imagine your suprise when you find you stuff had been emptied into the pool.

Notebooks, text books, pencils, pens, erasers, even the book you were trying to read on the way.

You look up when you hear Carol laughing as she rounds the pool in your direction, and you see Tommy throw your bag in the pool.

"Are you fucking serious? What are you twelve?!"

Before you can react, Carol shoves you into the pool.

"And that's how you get a book worm to swim!"

You somehow manage to keep your cool, gathering your stuff and putting them on the edge of the pool away from Tommy and Carol. Though you didn't know why you bother, you can tell the ink is smeared and the pencil is faded now, only thing possibly salvageable was your pencils and your reading book, but even that was debatable.

You climb out and sit at the edge.

You feel physically uncomfortable

Your clothing is sticking to you.

And it's basically summer already so the air is hot and a little damp. You look up to see Billy storming out of the house.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Relax, Billy, we were all just having a little fun, right?" Tommy looks at you like you're afraid of him so you're going to agree with him.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck off," you chuck your biggest text book at him.

None of them knew how well a text book could fly till it hits Tommy in the gut.

Go you! Bonus points for nailing him with the corner.

Your trying to wring the bottom of your clothes out when Tommy comes up from behind you and tries to grab you by the back of your head.

"Hey!" Billy is quickly making his way over to the both of you.

Carol tries to stop him, but she is poetically shoved to the side and subsequently falls into the pool.

You manage to elbow Tommy in the balls but the pain only makes him hold on harder.

"You little-"

He doesn't get to finish because he's promptly punched in the side of the face. You quickly back away from the edge incase Carol gets anymore funny ideas.

Billy helps you up and ushers you into the house.

"Sorry..." He sounds awkward, "About them."

You look at him with a deadpan expression, "Billy Hargrove, apologizing," you sigh with attitude, "pinch me. I must be dreaming."

He grits his jaw, "Don't you start being a smart ass with me- it's them who keep giving you crap!" He started raising his voice.

"Yeah, yet you still keep them around," you make your way over to the sink to keep wringing out your shirt and shoulder check him on the way, "Honestly, I don't even know why you keep them around- at least you have your reasons for being an asshole." You take off your shirt -much to Billy's suprise- so you can properly get rid of the water. Let's face it, a soaked shirt sticking to you like a second skin doesn't leave much to the imagination anyways, "Reasons," you turn to look at him for emphasis, "Not excuses," you turn back to the sink, "but understandable reasons nonetheless." You lay your shirt out flat on the kitchen's large counter to air dry (it's too dark and humid outside for it to dry any better outside anyways), "But they're just assholes because....because...." You sputter and shake your head, "I don't know, probably because they know they won't ever amount to anything better in their lives, so they figure they might as well tear down as many people as they can on their way to fucking nowhere."

You turn and look at him with an aggravated huff and cross your arms. Unfortunately Carol and Tommy walk in at that moment.

"You trashy mutt!"

"Stupid whore!"

"You really think, Billy's that desprit?!"

For a second you were confused. Then you remembered you didn't have a shirt on.

You roll your eyes again before throwing your still wet shirt back on.

"And what the hell Billy?! You really gonna' side with this half-breed?!"

Fuck this.

Fuck Carol.

Fuck Tommy.

And you know what? If this doesn't change, fuck Billy too. You dont need or deserve this.

You storm out the back door, gathering your things and shoving them in your dripping bag before walking around the side towards the front. Billy quickly runs out the front door to meet you outside.

"I'll take you home."

"No."

Billy calls your name and he almost sounds tired.

His tone is what makes you pause and turn around.

"Please."

You raise a brow and swallow your pride as well as your snarky comments, "Fine."

The party commences and goes on without the both of you.

Billy isn't quite sure what he enjoys more, being out and partying or enjoying a relaxing evening indoors, heavens knows he can't relax at home.

Max surprises the both of you by stopping by to visit.

The three of you hang out in your living room flipping through channels and eating popcorn.

Billy eats the least pop corn out off the three of you and opted to have some carrots and grapes less than half way through the first movie.

Billy is totally a health buff.

"Are Carol and Tommy really that bad?" Max mistakenly asked about your day.

"They have absolutely no redeeming qualities."

Max doesn't hide how she shoots a glance at her brother, 'And that fool does?' Is basically what her expression asked.

Billy glares at her from the couch opposite to hers and bites a carrot like it's her head.

You're covering your laughter with your hand.

From now on all my Imagines will be tagged by their titles, series, and parts! Hopefully this will make it easier to find a specific imagine if your looking for it. For example, anything relating to this series is tagged with "impossible", the series itself is tagged as "impossible series" and each individual part is tagged as "impossible pt.[1/2/3/etc.]"

Another example: part one is tagged as "impossible pt.1"

[ambrosiafaery]

Fellow vtuber whose been on both Tumblr and Twitter for a while (tho I don't talk about Ambrosia and my characters here as much as I used to with my art,,,) with a few more general tips

- the no commenting thing like op said isn't set in stone, definitely feel free to comment on reblogs. Typical Tumblr culture is to comment in tags as a more passive way to comment, or often times use the reply button on posts if you don't want it on your blog directly. People love talking here, but hate going viral usually.

- ops of posts can and will read your tags so still be nice

- I can't remember if this still exists but I think there were some exploits and/or extensions to delete ops text on a post. Don't do this to artists or on image descriptions it's super rude

- unlike Twitter it's VERY normal to be like 80% reblogs and 20% you talking here. Don't be afraid to share things others made. It's called a blog and not a profile for a reason

- while there are extensions for Tumblr, the in built tag blocking nowadays works on both mobile and desktop and is actually decent like previously mentioned. Block tags liberally if there's stuff that bothers you or you don't want to accidentally pull up in public - if a post is hidden you'll have the option to reveal it and it will show which blocked tags were on it

- Tumblr is at it's core a fandom site. A lot of people think of their blogs as curating things they like. Don't expect the same things that work else where to work here for reblogs, and even sometimes likes. People often use likes as simply bookmarks

- that also means the character limit being higher is actually great tho, write essays I Will read them if I see them. Twitter threads are godawful when you're used to just seeing in a functional format like here

- the algorithm doesn't work here quite like it does elsewhere. Most engagement is over time as reblogs spread through the community. Likes functionally do very little to increase engagement unlike other social media. Posts that break containment will get notes for a long time

- don't be a dick about people only liking posts though, it's pretty rude. Like I said, Tumblr is a place people typically curate things to a blog and that often means having very specific themes for posts. Sideblogs are really useful for that - in my case I've got my main (this blog), my side blog for mobile games, and my aesthetic/inspiration/resource blog. Sometimes someone's liking from one blog and reblogging to another too

- it is well known that empty blogs with a default icon are typically bots (and you should block them) but apparently a bunch of TikTok migrates didn't get them memo so here: if you're new please make a bio and set an icon to literally anything and maybe just reblog at least one random thing. People Will block you for it

-HOWEVER there's also been an outbreak of people making accounts, filling ablog with random things for about a week, and then making a scam donation post for a sick animal or family member. If someone dms you to reblog their dono post, PLEASE be aware of how often it can be a scam. There are legitimate people looking for help on here, but there's also a lot of bad eggs still

- they mentioned don't censor your tags for tag blocking but also know you won't get banned for saying fuck on main (or other words). I don't think you even get suppressed for swearing, it's just links that sometimes do.

- respect the wizard blogs they held this place together when a ton of people left

Tips For Vtubers

Howdy there, I’m Liv and I’m a vtuber much like you, but I’ve been here the whole time so I’m here to compile stuff for you to help make your transition less scary.

To start, here’s is a post with a lot of tips for general tumblr use and here’s one for giving your blog a custom theme.

Beyond that here’s other things that aren’t mentioned but are gonna be relevant for you:

If you’re coming back to tumblr know that you can’t follow from your sideblog, if you want to follow back it will be from your main, as will your likes, replies, asks. Decide what to do with this information now before you settle into a blog.

Fully explore the settings, there's a ton of stuff hiding in there. AND do it on PC at least once, some stuff is not in the app.

Blogs have individual block lists, no idk why either. So if you want someone banned from everything you need to do that manually.

 Also enable tumblr Labs! It’s got reblog graphs which are rad (my beloved orbs) And alternate dashboards, the Blog Subscriptions one is my fave because it means all you have to do is turn on notifications to get all your fave guys in one dashboard.

Contrary to popular belief there is still a porn and adult content community here, if you want to get anywhere near them you have to have age in bio or they’ll smite you.

Tiktok embeds don't play nice with tumblr for some reason, if you also do tiktok then just reupload your videos and link your account there underneath.

The link post type will show up for your followers but there’s a chance it won’t show up in any tags, so don’t do going live posts like that.

BUT you can straight up embed your stream into your posts! As long as you're using the New Post Editor you should see this menu:

Click the video camera, link to your twitch and bam. There it is. You can also do this with the video post type! If you're ever worried about your post format getting bonked just go through the tags and see what posts that DO make it are doing. Together we can overcome spaghetti code.

General "tumblr culture" is to not comment on posts but its not one thats set in stone, your fellow small vtuber account is probably dying for interaction so comment on posts! scream in the tags! send funny asks! Getting interaction right now is going to be a big comfort during a weird time.

Oh yeah we have ask boxes built in, no marshmallow needed.

ALSO we have pinned posts just like twitter, but as long as you want! Put your ref & socials & art tag (yes you can keep your fanart tags) & your minors DNI & a picture of your cat if you want.

OH I do suggest picking out tags for your personal content if you plan to also do reblogging, makes it easy for newcomers to find what you're doing.

#vtuber and #indie vtuber are full of fanart for the big guys. If you wanna find each other use #vtuber uprising

Okay this post is getting so long but final tip: check out custom pages. They're on the custom theme menu and they're basically mini webpages on your blog that can have their own coding. You can do Literally Whatever. Lore! Credit page! Ref sheets! I once put a choose your own adventure where you navigated by clicking specific parts of a picture on tumblr pages. I Mean Anything.

That's all for now, please add other tips if you want. And please reblog! Not just this post but other peoples too! This will all be way less of a drag if we can find each other. 💖