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#please lmk if there is anyone else you think should be on this list
1-800-c3dr1c · 2 months
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hiii, i have a request if they're openn
for luke castellan, a smut. he finds reader riding his pillow and mayne punish her? and he's a mean!dom
LUKE CASTELLAN SMUT ONESHOT.
submissive! reader. dominant! luke castellan. mean! luke castellan. female reader. reader is shorter than luke. established relationship (boyfriend and girlfriend). pillow humping/riding. unprotected sex. overstimulation. (lmk if i forgot anything)! ANOTHER WARNING, NSFW IS AHEAD.
requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in my tag list for whenever i post anything related to luke castellan under this post or in my inbox, as well!
i hope you like this, anon!! (and anyone else reading ofc), let me know what you think! <3 this is also my first time writing for luke, so hopefully i do him some justice!
taglist : @ayoitsmarie33 @junos-web
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while luke castellan was busy playing capture the flag and most likely winning, you were busy with something else. quiet whimpers left your parted lips as you struggled to keep yourself quiet, sitting on your boyfriend’s bed and grinding against his pillow for at least a bit of friction. you wanted something else in its entirety, but for now, you’d have to settle for this. your shorts discarded and your panties pushed to the side, your cunt leaking and begging for anything, especially from the boy you loved.
it was a shame that he wasn’t here, and you were strongly feeling the affect of his absence. covering your mouth with one hand, you used the other to support yourself.
“be quiet, dove.” that oh-so familiar voice startled you, your head snapping around as you instantly paused in your movements.
luke castellan, shed of the armor you’d seen him in just before the start of the capture the flag game, stood just a few feet behind you. his arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
“luke-” you started, in a futile attempt to explain what was going on without getting yourself in trouble.
“i know,” he leaned forward, tracing your jaw with a hand. “needed some release, hm? when the fuck will you learn?” his eyes darkened after the last sentence, a tint of anger laced in his tone. “my cock is the only thing that can make you cum. what the fuck do i have to do to make you understand that?” he spat in your face, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “nasty girl.” he drawled.
“wait, no, ‘m sorry!” you gasped, falling back onto his bed with a squeak.
“you’re sorry? sorry doesn’t fucking cut it. you should know that by now. you’re fucking pathetic.”
his words sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes tightly.
“what the fuck have i said about not looking at me?” he instantly questioned, scoffing at you.
“t- to never close my eyes,” you whispered back, hesitantly letting your eyes flutter open.
he loomed above you, a cocky smirk on his face. “i think you should be punished.”
“wh- what?” you stammered, eyes widening.
“you fuckin’ heard me. how ‘bout i fuck you ‘til you’re dumb and all you can think about is my cock? bet that’s all you could think about when gettin’ off on this stupid pillow. the pillow doesn’t know your body, i do. so what the fuck made you think a fucking pillow could get you off?” he laughed in your face.
“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry!” you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together for friction. gods, he was being so cruel.
“you should be sorry. fuckin’ say it like you mean it.” he hissed out.
“i do!! i do mean it!” you whined.
“no you don’t.” is all he said before he leaned forward, kissing you so feverishly that any reply you may have had on your tongue was instantly melted away, just by how hot and desperate the kiss was.
you’d barely even realized—half-conscious just by his kisses alone—that he’d already taken off his pants, and was in the process of removing his boxers. when you did, your breath hitched.
“please..” you begged, wanting so desperately to tangle your fingers in his hair. however, due to your hands being restrained, you couldn’t.
“only good girls get what they want. you’re far from a good girl, dove.” he responded lowly.
“i’ll be a good girl, promise!” you were nearly blabbering, and he hadn’t even touched you.
“yeah, y’will?” it was almost as if you could feel the way he didn’t believe you. this was nothing new, after all. you claimed you’d be good, if only for tonight. and then you went back to being a fucking brat. despite that, you were his fucking brat. only his.
you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. he nearly smiled, finding your tears so, so pretty. “gonna cry, dove? go ahead. cry all you want. next thing, y’know, you’ll only be crying out my name and how you want me to stop fucking you,” he whispered, mouth now by your ear. “but we both know you’d be lying to the both of us.”
you swallowed, watching his expression. “nuh-uh..” you mumbled, wanting to look away. but you knew the rules. keep your eyes on him the entire time.
“yuh-uh,” he shot back, grinning at you. not a nice grin, no—one that told you that you were about to be fucked. literally, and figuratively speaking.
with his hot and bothered cock free from the confines of his boxers, he didn’t hesitate. lining himself up with your sopping cunt, not even needing to prep you due to how much slick was running out of your pussy and down your thighs, it was enough to make sure any pain you might have felt would be washed away almost instantly. he slid in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.
“fuck.. luke!” you cried, already shaking. you were overstimulated due to the fact of you trying to get off on his pillow, and he knew as such. did he care? absolutely not. that only made him want to fuck into you so much more, to the point where you’d try to claw at his back and beg him to stop.
“shh,” he cooed, laughing in your face. “you can take it, you stupid girl. you’re just a hole for me to fill, yeah?” there was a glint in his eyes, something that told you he’d be far from done. you were practically gushing around his cock like a bitch in heat (his words, not your own) and he adored it.
“mhm!!” you nodded frantically, whining as you blabbered incoherently about how much you needed this. which was true, you had desperately needed this.
“fuuucckk,” he groaned, his thrusts speeding up. you gasped, trembling already. “mine. all fuckin’ mine. you know that, huh? don’t ever try to get pleasure from something that isn’t my cock, that isn’t my fingers, that isn’t my mouth. that’s all you’ll ever be pleasured by- fuck- and we both know it.” he leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss to keep you quiet, your tongues in a battle for dominance—one you were obviously going to lose—and tangling with each other like this was your purpose.
“gonna cum, gonna-” you sobbed, gulping in large portions of air as you panted.
“c’mon, dove. be a good girl..” he grunted, “let me hear you.” he added, and you swore you could feel him. all of him, filling you to the absolute brim.
and fuck, did it feel so good. so much so, you clenched around his cock immediately, milking him for all he was worth as you came with a half-concealed scream, cut off by the way he shoved his fingers into your mouth to keep anyone from hearing you. your sounds were for his ears only, after all.
he stilled inside of you for a second, eyes half-lidded. your chest was rising and falling quickly, your cheeks tear-stained and puffy. “no more..” you choked out, knowing that he hadn’t cum yet himself.
“aw, i can’t do that. i haven’t cum, dove. you can take it all, right?”
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freshlove-sturn · 2 months
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HELP ME OUT? PT 3
pt 1 pt2 pt3 pt 4 pt5 pt6 pt7 pt8
chris sturniolo × fem reader
pink- reader
orange- chris
blue- matt
summary: chris is falling behind in english. he knows he has to get in grade in check before his big lacrosse game, or else coach will bench him. so what better idea than to reach out to the smart girl who sits in front of him in class? after all, it's just a little help... right?
chris pov
“what you are you smiling about?” matt furrowed his brows at me from the drivers seat.
“i’m not” i lied. quickly looking down at my phone. i knew that matt would be able to tell it all over my face that i was lying. what was i supposed to say? ‘oh yeah the girl i’ve never even talked to until now has my stomach all in knots just by speaking.’ ? i’d sound like an idiot.
“you practically skipped down those stairs grinning ear to ear” i knew he wasn’t convinced.
“yeah sure” i say sarcastically. trying to make him feel like he was being unreasonable.
“seems like someone has a little crush” he teased.
i look over at him. his eyes are fixed on the road. he glances over to me and shrugs, grinning. i knew my silence wasn’t helping my case. “what? i hardly even know the girl”
i wanted to know her. no, i needed to know her. everything about her entranced me. from the way she would cover her face when she laughed to the way she would fidget with her bracelets. i wanted to know everything about her. her favorite color, her favorite song, hobbies, her dreams, all of it.
“so? you don’t have to know her to think she’s pretty.” matt rebutted
“whatever i’m done talking about this. you’re turning this into something it isn’t.” i desperately wanted to change the subject.
matt didn’t respond. he just shot me a knowing glance. sometimes i hated how he could see right through me.
reader pov
after chris left, i got in the shower. my mind running wild. there’s no reason he should be having this effect on me. all he did was sit there and listened to me talk about topics he only had to know in order to be able to play next friday. that’s all this was. nothing more. right? i mean, strictly “business”. i’m just helping him out so he’s eligible to play.
but i couldn’t ignore the feeling in my chest that wanted there to be something more. i felt it clawing and grabbing at me any time chris and i shared glances that lasted just a few seconds too long. i felt it when his fingers grazed mine. i felt it when his knees brushed against mine and neither of us moved.
it scared me, if i’m being completely honest. i never really thought twice about a boy until now. i’ve never had a boyfriend, never had a first kiss, never been on a date, hell i’ve never even held hands with a boy.
it’s not that i didn’t want any of those things. i did. i really did. i wanted so badly to experience a boy throwing pebbles at my window, kissing in the rain, you know, everything that happens in the movies. i’ve just never met a boy who seemed worth it. i was either too shy, or they were just complete assholes that i wanted nothing to do with.
but something felt different about chris. something i couldn’t quite pin down. it was driving me crazy.
when i get out of the shower, i pick up my phone and notice that chris had texted me.
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i feel my face grow hot. a now familiar feeling. one i had just felt over and over again just a few hours prior. i catch myself smiling at my phone like an idiot. chris sturniolo was going to be the death of me.
i lean over to my nightstand and plug my phone in before turning over in bed and closing my eyes.
the last thought that crossed my mind? chris.
a/n: HEY GUYS !! sorry this part is kinda short. i’m so so so so glad that y’all are enjoying this series so far !! PLEASE give me feedback, any ideas/ requests for next chapters, anything !! lmk if anyone else would be interested in being put on my tag list !
tag list: @rac00ns-are-c00l4
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jelly-of-many-ships · 6 months
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COMPLETE OFMD S2 CONTENT LIST:
To anyone looking for a complete list of trailers, vids, and photos released for OFMD season 2, here ya go.
(I’m not rly active on anything other than tumblr rn so i’m sry if I missed smth)
! LINKS CONTAIN SPOILERS !
So, first of all we have the official teaser trailer, released on August 30th: TEASER LINK
On September 14th we finally got the full length trailer. I’m assuming we’ve all seen these already: TRAILER LINK
There was a promo vid containing new s2 scenes that some people were getting on their TVs and recording and uploading to twitter. What some people don’t know is that that the official OFMD facebook account recently uploaded the same promo thats actually good quality and not just recording off a tv screen. Anyways if there’s a scene you’ve been seeing but it wasn’t in the trailer or teaser, its probably here: PROMO VID LINK
Here’s the links to some of those twitter vids if you don’t know what i’m talking about: twitter vid, twitter vid, These have the same content as the facebook link, just shitty quality.
Oh also Vico Ortez (plays Jim) posts a lot of s2 things on their tiktok. Nothing with spoilers just BTS (not the k-pop band I swear to god) I guess this doesn’t count but some of it’s rly funny: Vico Ortez tiktok
PHOTOS:
The first batch of season 2 photos we got were from Vanity fair on august 24th, but those photos plus a bunch of others are now available together somewhere i’ll say in a sec. Here is the article that showed us the first look at s2: VANITY FAIR ARTICLE
So, warner bros discovery gave us an *almost* complete collection of currently released photos. This does include the vanity fair photos but most of these you can’t find anywhere else. they say which episode every photo is from and let you download them too which is pretty cool. The site also has some great articles in the media releases section but they’re not that relevant. Go to the images section to see the s2 pics: S2 PHOTO COLLECTION
The final thing I found was the exclusive photo “The Streamr” posted on twitter. In fact there’s this whole thing happening with the OFMD twitter fandom and The Streamr and apparently they’ve posted exclusive photos that aren’t in the Warner Bros collection. Once again I am not actively on twitter so I don’t really know that much. I was only able to find one exclusive image posted by them but if there are any more please let me know. THE STREAMR EXCLUSIVE PHOTO
EDIT: found another photo on twitter! YET ANOTHER EXCLUSIVE PHOTO
EDIT: There’s a S2 behind the scenes vid from the max YouTube channel and it’s got so many extra clips it’s practically a third trailer!!! Also apparently there are some more articles that just released and I’m a bit busy rn but I’ll find and add them soon behind the scenes vid
EDIT: OMG THE MAX YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED A SCENE FROM EPISODE 1 AND IZZYS CRYING AND THE CREW IS COMFORTING HIM ITS CANON S2E1 SCENE
that is all that I personally know of but if there is anything else you think should be included please add it or lmk, I want this to be a complete list. If anything new comes out I will try my best to add that as well.
I was pretty confused where everyone was getting all the s2 info and I couldn’t find a complete list anywhere so I decided to make my own. hope this cleared it up for anyone else🤗
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katsukidynam1ght · 13 days
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“I’m not dead,” he says, but it still almost sounds like a question. “Not according to your vitals. Do you think you should be?” Katsuki seems to consider that for a moment, eyebrows creasing as he tries to think back. He winces. “Yeah. Probably.”
A long and convoluted Bakugou-centric angst fic nearly a year in the making. Featuring Aizawa and Yamada in their parental roles as well as a slow-burn relationship between Bakugou, Kirishima, and Midoriya. The first part of what will inevitably be a long series of angst and love. Remember: no matter how badly it hurts, it will turn out in the end. Tags will be added/altered as needed. Content warnings will be provided in the notes of each chapter. Please heed the warnings provided if you are sensitive to triggering content.
IT'S FINALLY HERE!! it's finally here. i'm really not sure i have anything else to say. i'll let the fic speak for itself.
if anyone wants added to the tag list lmk. pls
(tag list for updates and also help me reblog this pls: @vesterport @nielution @pancakemoment @wintosavesavetowin @sunflower-anatomy @kamiiin @epickiya722 @finnthemann @peternumber4 @justtorzaplease )
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chimmychoose · 11 months
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hi jimin fans, i need your help.
Hi. I have a long post ahead. If you really like Jimin, please read my entire post from top to bottom.
I made a very simple website for Jimin. See here: jimin.us
Right now, it is only a compilation of things fans can do to help support Jimin every day. This means engaging with YT videos, playing Spotify playlists, Pandora, and requesting radio.
These are the intended users: - people with busy workdays who want to support Jimin - relatively new fans who have no idea where to start
This is the problem: - busy fans don't have time to be be querying multiple websites and crawling through 20 Twitter accounts to figure out what they're supposed to be doing if they want to support Jimin - new fans have no idea wtf they're doing
This is how the problem is solved: - compile a list of all relevant links so that everything is in one centralized location
- reduce the number of clicks required to find and engage with said platforms. Streamline engagement without automating away the human-like interaction with each site
- reduce task time by engaging with multiple platforms at the same time
- site is responsive and mobile-friendly, so users who are on the go can be doing this on their phones
- the site is not embarrassing to look at so you can browse it at work. I do need to add a collapsible menu to hide the logo but that's a todo down the line
This is how you use it: - clicking on "Open All" will open ALL links in new tabs. Then you can go tab by tab, closing each one as you complete the task. This is basically the equivalent of bookmarking everything and opening all tabs at startup. (If you would rather do that, feel free to use this site as a jumping-off point.)
- clicking on "Play All" ONLY plays the Spotify playlist(s) for now. It is possible to play all the YouTube videos programmatically at the same time as well, but it will NOT count for views. However, clicking on each embedded video manually (even at the same time) SHOULD count for views. This is all according to the YouTube documentation, which... I don't blame anyone if you decide not to trust it. "Open All" is probably the safest bet.
- If you're going to use "Play All" to stream, make sure you're logged in to Spotify. Even so, I am not entirely sure that it counts for streams. I didn't find anything in the Spotify docs about it. Only Spotify community and Reddit posts say it counts for streams.
- clicking "Open all X links" will open only the links for that section. (For example, "Open all YouTube links" will only open all YouTube links in new tabs, not the Spotify or Pandora links.)
This is what I need help with: - I am not familiar with any of the filtering algorithms used by these platforms. I also don't regularly use Spotify or Pandora so I have no idea what playlists are good (I use YT Music regularly.) I need many Jimin-centered playlists on these platforms that have proven non-filtered stream numbers. Please send me playlists. If the Spotify community is correct, then playing them all simultaneously should count for streams. But who knows, correct me if I'm wrong.
- I got the radio stations list from that link on various tumblr blogs. If there are more radio stations, lmk.
- Pandora has an API, but you need to request access and right now requests are closed. If anyone has a valid Pandora API key and would like to help, pls share :)
- If there is something else that you think Jimin fans could do every day to support him (and I mean important things, not stupid weekly online polls like who has the best haircut or whatever), then please send it to me.
- I would like to eventually add an archival section so that we can remember all the good stuff about Jimin's first album release :)  Please send me things that you think are worthy of archiving. (Emphasis on eventually, my schedule's not great right now)
Other notes: - IMPORTANT: If "Open All" does not open all links for you, you will need to tell your browser to allow this site to open pop-ups. There should be a little icon to the right of your URL bar. Or search "Manage pop-ups &lt;name of browser>."
- I've only tested on Chromium, Firefox, Edge, and Android phone. If you have some other browser/device compatibility issue, lmk.
- Requesting radio tidbit: take this with a grain of salt, take it or leave it, etc. But: if your local radio station does call-ins and you happen to have a phone number with an area code that is in the same area as the station (or you find a way to get a phone number with an area code that is in the same area as a specific station), call in. Locals are great. Also: DON'T just request Like Crazy, request other non-Jimin related songs too.
- If you are a discreet Jimin fan who really wants to support Jimin on US radio but are honestly far too busy to be clicking through all of these different radio request pages, please message me.
- this is not the best website ever. I realize this. There are so many things I would love to do to improve it, but it's really just a time limitation. That said I made this for free with love.
- Yes, I have lost my fucking mind, this is not a real problem to be solving but I fixated for six hours and it's so hard to stop EDIT: Please send me TikTok videos that need engagement too
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moronicromantic · 8 months
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read your input on "poc friendly", i'm planning to write a fanfic soon... but i want poc to feel like it's a space peaceful to them and so that they can search it up
what'd you think i should do, i'm really new to this :')
oh, and also, can I tag you when I first post my fic?
some people may disagree and that’s fine. these are just my opinions :)
the biggest tip i can give you is to just let people know what they’re getting into :) if the reader you have in mind isn’t white, just write “character name x non!white reader.” if you have a certain race or culture in mind, like maybe the reader is desi, just put “character name x desi!reader.” if you’re just writing a general reader insert that’s open to everyone, just say “character name x inclusive!reader.” content warnings are there if you want to add other details, like eye color (try to avoid adding eye colors for reader inserts unless it’s a fantasy story…like try not to give the reader blue eyes for no reason) or hair length and such. warnings don’t have to be about bad things, they’re just there so people are prepared :)
if you just want poc to feel like your blog is a safe space for them (regardless of if your fic is a reader insert or oc), you could also specify that by literally stating that your blog is a “safe space for everyone” or by having a do not interact list (such as minors dni, homophobes dni, racists dni, and anyone else you don’t want interacting with your blog). the dni list usually goes on people’s pinned posts where they do a rundown on their blog, but you can also list it before your fic starts (like in the area a summary or the content warnings go).
i’m sure you’ll do great regardless. and ofc you can tag me :) everyone’s new at some point and we all learn as we continue. people keep learning even years after they start something too <3 every fic is different and if you want people to feel comfortable, just let them know what they’re getting into. if the fic is good enough i just ignore physical details that don’t match me and pretend they never happened. that’s what our imaginations are for 🙏
each fic is different though, and sometimes authors have different types of characters in mind for their reader inserts. if this didn’t help please lmk and i can go into more detail 😭 i just wanted to give you this for now
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eyndr-stories · 1 year
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Chester and the Jesters (FNAF SB fanfic) C2 - With a shnoz like that how could he NOT be nosy
In Summary:
The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??
Things To Know (always read responsibly!):
Biggest warnings are for blood, death, knives, murder, the police, violence, also the OC is at one point hit by lightning. All fun stuff
About 70,000 words in total, 9 chapters, so roughly like. 7,500 words per chapter
This is an OC story, not a reader insert or a self insert! But if you want to imagine otherwise be my guest lol
Angst, fluff
OC x Sun & Moon, there's romance but zero spice
Occasional swearing
Heavy focus on Sun and Moon but most of the rest of the gang is there too :)
Afton doesn't exist, sorry peepaw, Vanessa is here but she's very chill. She's a kickass gamer girl lmao
Moon does an attempted murder but its fine. He's just a lil guy ok
OC uses they/them and also sign language most of the time
Impersonation, lying. There's also manipulation. Yall I wasn't kidding about the angst
There's also a lot of focus on how they're all robots, very cool robots with feelings lol
That's all I can think of, as always please lmk if I should add anything!
Ao3 Link: Right here!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
C2 - With a shnoz like that how could he NOT be nosy
     In theory, so long as Chester was careful, everything would work out just fine. With the cops camped out at the end of the building's expansive parking lot and more patrolling the town, hiding out in Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza Plex was, admittedly, almost ideal.
     Almost.
     The issue with impersonating a technician, or at least someone who would pass an interview for a job as a technician, was that Chester did not know much of anything about technical equipment. It wasn't like they could ask what exactly their day to day job responsibilities were, either. So, Chester did what they did best. They were quiet, and they were observant. They sat back and watched and learned.
     Several things became clear over the day as Chester watched their coworkers hurry back and forth through access tunnels and to different parts of the complex. Firstly, their initial concern over someone noticing that they weren't doing much of anything quickly faded because the rare few others they did see were coming and going very quickly, and everyone seemed to have a list of tasks to do. These tasks, Chester learned, were assigned via small handheld devices that fit neatly into a tool belt, which everyone seemed to have.
     First order of business, find out where to get one of those tool belts.
     Chester also noted through their observances that there appeared to be one other technician manager aside from Rosa, a tall man by the name of Lance.
     Lance Baxter was in the access halls more often than anyone else, and Chester quickly realized that it was because he was absolutely riddled with anxiety and stress. He would often hide out in the tunnels, taking the longest possible route around or just stand somewhere inconspicuous and tap at his handheld device. The man looked like he hadn't slept a wink in weeks, and jumped if anyone tried to approach him a little too suddenly.
     Lance was perfect. Chester quickly formulated a plot in their mind, working out what they needed to say before getting into the mindset of someone woefully lost on their first day of the job, which wasn't actually all that difficult.
     Chester tapped Lance on the shoulder. Lance jumped, quickly putting his handheld device away as he turned to face them.
     "Excuse me sir, it's my first day and I'm a little lost. I was trying to find Daniel but I can't seem to find him anywhere," Chester signed.
     Lance followed the signs, then pushed a large pair of glasses up his nose before signing back, speaking aloud as he did. "I'm so sorry, I'm afraid Daniel quit yesterday."
     "Oh no!" Chester put a worried hand to their forehead and looked around helplessly. "I'm not sure what to do, Daniel said he would show me the ropes. I'm so sorry to bother you, but would you mind helping me out??"
     "Ohh that is quite a pickle! Yes, yes of course! I can help you. I can do that! Yes." Lance awkwardly looked around for a moment. "Um… I'm not sure what all Daniel told you. But I see you don't have a tool belt yet! So let's start there!" Lance latched onto the direction with relief.
     Much to Chester's relief as well, they ended up not having to do much of anything but look lost. Lance rambled as the two of them walked, leading the way to an employee stock room. Lance didn't question Chester at all about why they didn't already have a tool belt or one of those hand held devices. He was woefully caught up in his own anxiety, and actually apologized to Chester several times during his rambling.
     "So sorry about Daniel quitting, we've been having a really rough time of it lately. I hope you haven't been lost for too long!! The faz-phones have maps on them, it's really easy to see where you need to go. Rosa and I assign tasks as they come up. Since its your first day I'll try not to overwhelm you, don't worry!" Lance assured. "It's usually not so bad, its just that lately things have been… well, we're just short staffed is all!"
     They made it to the employee store room. Lance strode past a line of janitor carts, a table of walkie talkies set into chargers, and a shelf of heavy duty flashlights before arriving at the rack of technician toolbelts. The 'faz-phones' as Lance had called them, were lined up on a shelf, plugged into labeled chargers.
     "What's your number? The technician number Daniel assigned you?" Lance asked, looking over the row of phones.
     Chester froze. Should they make something up? Pick a number from the line of phones at random? But what if they chose one already assigned to someone else??
     "Don't worry if you can't remember! It took me a while to memorize mine, too. Here, this one isn't in use. Since its your first day it won't be any trouble to reassign your number," Lance said quickly once he'd caught sight of Chester's panicked expression.
     "Thank you," Chester signed, relieved. They accepted the faz-phone, giving it a look over while Lance made a note in his device to reassign their number later.
     "Try not to forget again though, it'll be much more difficult to reassign your number once you've got an in progress task list assigned to you," Lance warned. "You should memorize it anyways because you need it to punch in."
     "Right."
     Lance grabbed a tool belt at random for Chester and mentioned that should they loose any of the tools, replacements could be found here in a crate at the back of the room.
     "When you select a task from your list there should be an option to view it on the map. You can also pull up the map tab whenever you need. There's different types of tasks as well, electrical, repair, diagnostics, installation, etcetera. Usually we try to personalize task lists to each employee based on your profile, but with how few of us there are we kind of have to help each other out a lot. If you ever handle an animatronic repair task, the repair chamber in parts and service central can connect to your device, just plug your technician number into the computer and it'll update your faz-phone with any replacement parts you need." Lance paused. "I'm so sorry if Daniel already told you all of this! I tend to ramble from time to time." He laughed nervously.
     Chester was far from annoyed. They were deeply appreciative of Lance's rambling. "No worries."
     Lance glanced at their own phone, wincing at whatever he saw pop up on the screen. "Um, I'm so sorry, but I've got some tasks I can't reassign. If you have any questions or need anything else, you can contact me or miss Garcia through your faz-phone. Good luck with your first day, Chester!" Lance offered an apologetic smile.
     With that, Chester was alone in the room. They looked around, noting a bookshelf near the end of the room full of employee handbooks. There were several health and safety booklets, a few maps, some 'in case of emergency' booklets, and-
     Chester breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Technician booklets. Manuals and guides to the animatronics and a lot of the tech around the plex. They didn't have time to read right now, but they'd definitely be reading those over the moment they did have the time.
     The faz-phone buzzed in Chester's hand. They turned it on to find a quickly growing list of tasks. As the list kept updating, the little scroll bar on the side shrinking smaller and smaller, Chester's worry grew in kind. They navigated through the tasks, trying to find one that looked relatively easy.
     They'd be doing a lot of learning on the job, it seemed. Chester took a deep breath to steel their nerves. All they had to do was do this job well enough to not be fired. That wouldn't be too difficult, right?
~~~
     A few hours later, as Chester was elbow deep in a bumper car with an angry impatient metal wolf looming over them, they were starting to regret some of their decisions.
     As the animatronic wolf told it, she had apparently ripped the wheel of the car clean off in frustration because the last tech who serviced it hadn't aligned the wheel properly, causing the car to constantly drift to the right. Chester was having a hard time getting the base of it to sit right. It didn't seem to want to sit all the way down into the bit that connected it to the two front wheels. Chester could easily guess that the previous technician had wedged it in as far as it would go and had called it a day, since it still technically worked well enough to move the wheels left and right. Since it wasn't properly bolted in, however, it had easily worked its way loose again.
     Chester pulled the entire wheel and its connecting cylinder out of the car, figuring they'd set it in there wrong. They really didn't know what they were doing. The wolf certainly wasn't making it any easier.
     "Hurry it up! My next race starts in ten minutes!" she growled, folding her arms. The glamrocks, as Chester had learned they were called, were comprised of a complex inner working of moving metal plates and extremely durable endoskeletons. The intricacies of their impressive design meant their faces were allowed a small range of expression through the use of adjustable plates around their brows and cheeks, and their complex range of motion allowed for the conveyance of body language. And so, it was very clear to see that this particular animatronic was deeply annoyed with Chester.
     Chester huffed, doing their best to ignore the looming wolf robot, and tried to get a better look at the inside of the bumper car, to try and puzzle out how it was meant to connect. The wheel's cylinder was meant to sit in a tube connected to metal rods, which in turn connected to the wheels. As the cylinder turned the tube, the rods would be pushed or pulled in tandem, turning the wheels. Chester eyed the tube, wondering if there was a dent in it preventing the cylinder from fitting in it properly.
     There wasn't a dent, but upon close inspection Chester did find a loose screw sitting at the bottom of the tube.
     Relieved that the error wasn't a lack of knowledge on Chester's part, they quickly pulled out the screw and tried fitting the wheel's cylinder back into the tube. It clunked into place without issue. From there it was a simple matter of screwing a bolt through the tube to hold the cylinder in place. They closed the hood of the bumper car, relieved.
     Chester turned to the wolf. "That should be-"
     "Great. Outa the way." The wolf strode past Chester and climbed into the car. "I've got a race to win."
     Chester quickly moved out of the way- they were far too busy to be run over. The wolf lady sped off at once. Chester pulled up their task list and marked that particular in progress task as complete, opting not to leave any notes in the optional note box. They weren't sure if others could see their notes, and they didn't want to inadvertently give away their complete lack of knowledge. The task vanished from the list and was instantly replaced with two more.
     Chester heaved a sigh. They scrolled through the list, noting that a few tasks that had been there a while were gone now. Chester guessed that these tasks had been reassigned, or had even resolved themselves, by some miracle. They hunted through the list for something easy. There were a few 'high priority' tasks at the very top of their list. At first, Chester had been deeply intimated by these, worrying about the level of skill they might require. As they reached the end of their current tasks, however, they begrudgingly decided to at least look them over.
     …Something wasn't right here. Between two tasks labeled 'Animatronic repair' and 'Welcome area projector installation' was another high priority task labeled 'Replace lightbulb'. Chester selected the task, reading the details.
     Apparently, a light in an area the map declared 'Superstar Daycare' was out, and needed replacing. The lightbulb type was listed, and the map also helpfully listed what supply closets stored replacement bulbs. Chester accepted the task, marking it as 'in progress', and started on their way towards the nearest supply closet.
     Maybe the task had just been labeled wrong? Whatever the case, Chester was grateful for the easy fix. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say.
     Chester puzzled absently over the nonsensical phrase as they made their way out of Roxy Raceway, walking along the colorfully painted far wall, vibrant orange desert canyons populated by tall cacti. What was a gift horse? Was the horse the gift? Was it considered bad luck to look at a horse in the mouth? Chester couldn't extrapolate the connection between the phrase and its intended meaning. They knew by means of gleaning implication from others that it meant to not attempt to find problems with something graciously given, but where the hell did horses fit into the picture?
     It seemed someone had the foresight to store a step ladder in the storage closet with the lightbulbs. Chester was grateful for this, they weren’t sure if they would have remembered to grab a ladder otherwise. Lightbulb and ladder acquired, Chester pulled their map back up and made their way to the daycare, storing the lightbulb in their tool belt and setting the top step of the ladder over their shoulder to free their hands. They'd been back and forth across the building enough times that they thought they should have started to get a feel for the layout, but for some reason they couldn't wrap their mind around these halls. They kept running into areas they could have sworn they'd passed, or they'd pass the exact same gift shop they would have sworn they'd seen on the other end of the building.
     Chalking it up to stress and exhaustion, Chester put it out of mind as they came at last to the daycare.
     Past a blissfully quiet check in area and down a set of stairs, Chester navigated through a collection of tables and chairs situated outside of what appeared to be the actual daycare itself. The top half of the two-story high room was enclosed with netting, reminding Chester of bird exhibits in zoos. Chester pushed open the giant double doors, which were reminiscent of a castle’s wood gate entrance. The medieval references continued inside the daycare itself. Across from jungle gyms and slides and neatly organized stacks of toys was a moat full of plastic colorful balls, little bridges leading across to a massive castle themed fort. High up beyond the reach of most average ladders was the top of a tower, decorated with chiseled foam stones and flowering vines of paint. Beyond the balcony atop this tower, a theatrically red curtain was drawn over a doorway, hiding a space beyond. The only thing here not on theme was the security desk by the door, currently unmanned.
     Chester spied a group of kids, all gathered together around plastic tables and tiny chairs. Amidst all the bright colors and surrounded by kids, Chester almost didn't notice the figure sitting with the kids until he sprang to his feet.
     "Hellooo!" the figure called. "You must be here to fix the light for us!!" The figure took a moment to check over the children, a few of whom had turned to look at Chester. The figure looked like another animatronic, but he wasn't animal themed like the others. He looked like a sun, his flat circular head encircled by seven orange triangles. He was tall and narrow, all bright oranges and reds and yellows, and clad in stripes and bells and ribbons like some sort of clown. He wore a soft bright red scarf around his pole neck.
     "Yes, I-" Chester's hands stalled as the animatronic did an honest to god cartwheel around the table he'd been sitting at before running right for them. A jolt of fear shot though them at the sight of someone barreling towards them, and before they knew what they were doing they'd crouched into a defensive stance, fists raised.
     "Woah there! Are we boxing??" The animatronic halted instantly to sign and speak in tandem, then raised his own fists. He bobbed fluidly and exaggeratively from side to side, like a character in a fighting game.
     With a brief bout of embarrassment, Chester lowered their fists and straightened back up. "I'm here to replace a lightbulb."
     "Of course!! It's right over here in the snack time area! Leave your shoes by the door and I'll show you," the bot said, spinning on his heel not a moment after quickly flashing the last sign and waving for Chester to follow. He bounded across soft padded floors.
     Chester followed, kicking off their shoes and placing them out of the way before taking quick strides to keep up. They noted some of the kids were staring after them and the animatronic, so they gave the kids a little wave. One waved back, nearly knocking a pair of star shaped sunglasses off of her face.
     The animatronic stopped in a small nook off the side of the main daycare. Above a little kitchenette surrounded by tiny tables was the faulty light in question, a dim yellowed dome sitting snug against the low ceiling.
     Chester set up their step stool under the light. The stool was the perfect height for the job, and Chester began carefully twisting the dome off.
     The animatronic was watching them carefully. Chester glanced at him, but couldn’t discern much. The bot's face was a set mold with a big pointy nose and an even bigger grin. His white eyes glowed faintly as he scrutinized Chester. His eyes lacked any discernable pupils, but it was clear he was staring at them none the less.
     “Say, did you know you seem to have picked up the wrong name tag??” the animatronic said.
     Chester froze, fighting down that panic. They struggled not to drop the dome, instead setting it down gently between their feet. Hands free, they signed at the animatronic. “I don’t know what you mean.”
     “It must have happened because you two have the same name, right? But the barcode on the back is the first Chester’s employee code!”
     Chester looked down at their stolen name badge. Apparently this bot could see the barcode on the back. Chester tried to think up some excuse, some explanation. They could have agreed with the animatronic’s assumption, laughed about the mix up, but what would happen the next time Chester met this animatronic and they still had the same name tag? When the barcode on the back was still the same, surely the bot would get suspicious.
     The animatronic went on in the face of Chester’s panicked silence, tapping a thoughtful finger on his chin. “Here we thought the first Chester had quit months ago! If you two mixed up your name tags that must mean the first Chester decided to come back? Which is funny, because the first Chester seemed to really, really want to leave really badly all the time!”
     “Chester did quit. They just… gave me the old name tag,” Chester signed quickly.
     “Oh?? How lazy, they wouldn’t even make you a new name tag!” The animatronic ‘tsk’ed.
     Chester shrugged. “We’re really short staffed, I’m sure they were busy.” They reached up and started to unscrew the old lightbulb. With one hand they continued to sign, quickly changing the subject. “So what’s your name, then?”
     “OH!! Of course, where are my manners?!” The animatronic reeled back, slapping both hands to his cheeks. “I’ve got lots of names and nicknames and they’re all just great!! Sun, Sunny, Sundrop, Sunshine, Mister Sun- take your pick!”
     “You don’t have a preference?” Chester asked. They shook the old lightbulb next to their ear. They heard the faint rattle of a dead bulb (as well as the constant ringing, which didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon) so they stored the old bulb away and began screwing in the new one.
     “Nope! I love them all!” the animatronic insisted, signs punctuated by the jingling of bells on his wrists.
     “Sun seems easy enough. Is that alright?” Chester asked.
     The animatronics' head spun a full 360 degrees as he gave Chester two thumbs up. “That’s a-ok!”
     "You don't have to sign if you don't want to, by the way. I can hear just fine," Chester mentioned.
     "Noted!" The animatronic, Sun, watched Chester work. His fingers started to fiddle with the ribbons tied around his wrist, jostling the bells tied to the ribbons. “You seem a lot nicer than the other techs! Are you going to stay for very long?”
     Chester couldn’t fathom how they’d managed to come across as nice, but they weren’t about to argue. “I’m not sure yet,” they answered honestly. They’d be around as long as the cops were still after them. With the new lightbulb securely in place, they reached down for the dome covering. “It’s my first day on the job.”
     “Only your first day??” Sun’s faceplate turned only a few degrees, mimicking a head tilt. “How’d you know about the first Chester quitting if its only your first day?”
     Chester fumbled with the dome, nearly dropping it. “I didn’t. You told me that. I made a reasonable assumption when I said that before, about them giving me Chester’s old name tag.” They focused on screwing the dome back on so they could hurry up and get out of here. This bot sure was asking a lot of questions.
     “I see! You must have been right, I can’t imagine why else you’d have Chester’s old name tag!” Sun said.
     “Okay, all done.” Chester hurriedly climbed down, folding up the step ladder and setting it over their shoulder. “Sorry for the intrusion,” they quickly signed, already heading for the door.
     “It’s no problem!! Have a nice day, goodbye!” Sun called after them.
     Chester grabbed their shoes on the way out and closed the doors to the daycare behind them, then breathed a sigh of relief. That had gotten a little too close for comfort.
     Chester got their shoes situated and hurried off, eager to put some distance between themself and the daycare. They pulled out their faz-phone, marking the task complete. They’d return the ladder to the closet they’d found it in, and then get on with their next task.
     Chester recounted the encounter in their head as they walked, making sure they hadn’t told Sun anything incriminating or conflicting. That Sun guy sure was nosy. So long as Chester avoided running into him again, they should be fine.
     Before the end of the day, Chester ran into Rosa once more. She mentioned forgetting to ask for their technician number earlier. She needed it to assign them their schedule, since the computer had wiped all those employee files, which would have allegedly contained Chester’s assigned technician number. Chester read off the number printed on the back of their faz-phone, promising to memorize it soon.
     Finally, the day was over. Chester ducked into a restroom down in the access tunnels and hid in one of the stalls to wait for the building to close for the night.
     Perched atop a toilet seat, dressed as a technician for an entertainment complex, hiding out from the authorities and living an absolute lie, Chester took a moment to think about the unfortunate directions their life had taken.
     Chester thought about karma. They were not religious, not superstitious, they didn’t even particularly believe in luck. They did believe in the possibility of such things, however. And so, they had to wonder, if their misfortune was in some way retribution for something they’d done. Some horrible mistake they’d made without even realizing the true extent of their actions. Perhaps the lack of realization was part of it, perhaps not even knowing how terribly they’d managed to hurt someone was crime enough on its own.
     Chester had never meant to hurt anyone. Of course they hadn’t. Sometimes, despite their best efforts, they wound up hurting people regardless. Sometimes it took them a while to even realize their mistakes. Maybe the realization was just around the corner, waiting to hit them over the head. Maybe this was all somehow their fault after all.
     Chester looked down at their hands. They’d washed their hands, scrubbed their fingers nearly raw.
     Even so, they could still picture the blood that had stained them a little too easily.
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crushzone · 3 years
Note
Which characters do you think would actually use tools/toys instead of just their hands to spank??
Contains: Impact play
OOOOH good question, because I realized almost all my responses had been with just hands.
Wing Spikers and Their Favorite Impact Play Toys
This is listed in the order of pain infliction from lower to higher intensity (in my opinion!!), but keep in mind that they can also go lighter or harder with the hits haha.
Faux Suede/Fur Lined Paddle
❥ Daichi ❥ Yamamoto ❥ Amanai (but she doesn’t really hit you with it LOL, just likes the softness of the fur) ❥ Akiteru
Riding Crop
❥ AKITERU ❥ Daichi (He actually prefers his hand) ❥ Aran (only lightly though cuz he is a softie) ❥ SAKUSA
Leather Slapper
❥ KITA (it feels like a belt, he likes the sound it makes.) ❥ Iwaizumi (prefers his hands tbh, only brings this out when u are being extra naughty) ❥ Sakusa ❥ Akiteru (but will be light handed)
Wooden Paddle 
❥ Shimida (he is a sweetie but I know he can be freaky too, I just know it) ❥ Daishou ❥ OSAMU (idk, it just looks like a cutting board, it feels just right in his palms lmao)
Rubber Flogger
❥ Kyotani ❥ Sakusa ❥ Hoshiumi ❥ Hanamaki (is absolutely in love with the way the strands drape across your skin)
Anything more painful than this
❥ ENNOSHITA (veteran tier brat tamer) ❥ Sakusa (but he will go easy on you because he just wants you to have a good time) ❥ Daishou
Which Wing Spiker would you like to have your bum smacked by? (Closed)
187 notes · View notes
ptergwen · 3 years
Text
favorite crime
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w/c: 1.6k
warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst
summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess
a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3
-
“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.
peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.
there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.
it’s time to let you go.
“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”
emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.
you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.
quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.
beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.
he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.
you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.
a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.
you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter���s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.
peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.
you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”
his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.
“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.
“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.
hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.
using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.
“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“
peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.
“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”
tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.
part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.
he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.
peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.
“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”
it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.
you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”
peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.
“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”
you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.
this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.
“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.
free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”
“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”
that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.
“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”
affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.
your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.
“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”
you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.
what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.
you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.
“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.
tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.
“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.
you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.
“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”
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starfleetimagines · 2 years
Text
Weyoun - Untouchable
Pairing: Weyoun 6 x gender-neutral reader Word count: About 1k Notes/warnings: This is a blend of two requests from two anons - one requesting a fic based on the word untouchable, and the other based on "I need you". As for warnings, I guess sickness and angst.
Tag list: @space-helen, @mrs-l-mccoy, @geordisoong, @wraith-queen-todd, @shroedingershund - if you want to be added to or removed from a tag list, please lmk! Also, if you're on a tag list and have changed your URL, please lmk that too so I can update it accordingly
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You reached out to the forcefield that separated you from your love. “I just want to touch you. Just… feel you here with me.”
Weyoun looked at you sadly. He, too, reached for the forcefield, fingers brushing against its energy for a moment. “I know, my dear, but I cannot touch you. Not without infecting you.”
Tears burned in the back of your throat. “I need you, love. I miss you so much.”
His own eyes glistened. You knew he hated seeing you cry. “Soon,” he promised. “This’ll be over soon.”
You looked over your shoulder to where Doctor Bashir was lingering. “How soon?”
Julian shook his head slowly. “I don’t know for sure. It could be days, could be weeks. We still haven’t been able to isolate the protein of this virus. It keeps mutating just as we think we’re close to a cure. I am sorry.”
“It’s been two months!” you snapped. You shook your head quickly and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Julian. I know you’re doing your best.”
He offered you a slight smile. “Just hang on a little longer.”
You nodded slightly and looked back to the sad Vorta sitting on a biobed, alone. It was where he’d been for the last nine weeks. After the war ended, Weyoun was offered a commission with the Bajoran government as an assistant strategical officer. He’d been on an away mission, tentatively exploring sections of the Gamma Quadrant for signs of Dominion activity, when he’d picked up a pathogen on a planet’s surface. No one else had been infected, luckily, but Weyoun had come back to the station ill.
Weyoun had had mild symptoms, though Julian said those could quickly change if he didn’t find a cure. Nine weeks later, Weyoun was still suffering from relatively mild symptoms—fever, chills, fatigue, and a surprising lack of appetite. Due to the virus's constant mutation, there was no way anyone could come into direct contact with him without risking infection. So Weyoun had to isolate in a containment field, just waiting for Doctor Bashir to find a cure.
“Forget about all that,” Weyoun said quietly. “Tell me about your day.”
You sat on the chair Julian had kept next to Weyoun’s containment field for you and sighed. You began recounting parts of your day to him, trying your best to make routine tasks sound exciting.
Weyoun settled down on his biobed and watched as you spoke. A soft smile played on his lips, despite the circumstances. It had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you. When you weren’t working, you spent your time in sickbay with Weyoun. You’d tell him about your day, read to him, and play games like chess and checkers—ones that you could move his pieces for him.
But it wasn’t the same. None of this was the same, nor was it what it should be. You and Weyoun had just decided to move in together and had begun that new journey of your relationship. You’d also finally started to recover mentally from the war and feel at peace with life again. It was all falling into place.
For now, though, this fractured way of life would have to be enough. You held your hands in your lap, fingers twitching with the overwhelming urge to reach out to him. But he was just out of reach.
- - -
The next week, you rushed down the hallway of the promenade, earning confused stares as you went. Odo even scolded you about running on the promenade, but you just told him to bite you and kept going.
You entered sickbay, ready to see your love violently ill or, worse, dying. Julian had called you, telling you to come down to sickbay immediately. He would not tell you why, and that worried you deeply.
But as you stepped through the doors of sickbay, you saw Weyoun standing next to Julian, alive and well. And out of the forcefield.
You stopped dead in your tracks, eyes wide, and gasped.
“Hello, my love,” Weyoun said softly.
You opened your mouth to speak, but shock held your tongue in place.
“I synthesized the vaccine this morning,” Julian told you, smiling widely. “I wanted to make sure it worked and that there were no side effects before calling you down. But… he is completely cured.”
You glanced to Julian. “He—he’s cured?”
“I am.” Weyoun smiled widely and reached out his hands to you as he stepped closer.
Emotions overwhelmed you. A sob caught in your throat and you ran to him. You crashed into him, holding him as close as possible. Weyoun wrapped his arms securely around your waist.
You nuzzled your face against the crook of his neck, instantly comforted by his scent.
“Thank you, Julian,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll give you two some privacy.”
You and Weyoun stood there for a few minutes, neither speaking. Your arms clung to him for dear life, as if letting him go would mean another two months without him. Weyoun’s hold on you was just as tight, and you knew the next little while would be an adjustment period; wanting to touch each other and be near each other at all times, as if to make up for lost time.
As you stood there, Weyoun’s arms around you and your bodies pressed against one another, you felt pure and utter relief wash over you. Life was back to what it should be. You murmured an “I love you”, voice muffled by Weyoun’s shirt and neck.
He ran his hand up and down your back slowly. “I love you, as well, my dear Y/N.”
You smiled widely. You never wanted to leave his arms, and you never wanted to be apart from him again. Perhaps moving in with one another isn’t the only next step on the horizon for you two.
80 notes · View notes
blueprint-han · 3 years
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[Image ID: A black picture with the title “HOW TO SUPPORT FANFICTION AUTHORS” written in bold caps lock, colored with a winter forest picture. End ID.]
Well, this post has been made countless times, but I’m making one too because I’ve seen a lot of people say they’re new to tumblr and don’t know the whole “reblogging is better than liking” rule and other stuff. So without any further ado, here are ways YOU can support the fanfiction authors. Now keep in mind this applies to almost every author out there, not just the stayblr fandom, so if you’re a silent reader (or even if you aren’t), I advise you go through this post. Warning, this is a fairly long post going into detail, so yeah. I still expect you, the readers to read this, and if you’re a writer, feel free to lmk if i’ve written smth wrong or if you want me to add something! ^^
In this post I’ll go into thorough analysis of the pros and cons of each of the methods listed here and how YOU as a reader can show the authors whose fics you read more love and motivate them to produce content.
WARNING; LONG POST! GOES INTO A DECENT AMOUNT OF DETAIL. NOT EDITED, EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.
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#1 : LIKING !
I think this is basic common knowledge, and a lot of people tend to do this. When you like the post, the author sees it, you see it, and if the author has their liked posts accessible (which majority of the time they don’t), and if someone deliberately goes to check it, then they see it. See why so many authors say just liking does nothing? Only liking says “Hey, I’m gonna tell you your story is not that good by simply liking it and not sharing it with other people. :D”
♯ PROS:
You’re telling the author that you've read their fic, and either you’ve enjoyed it to a certain extent, or you’re just saving it to read for later.
Likes are seen by you, the author and anyone who has access to your likes (which, most people don’t).
♯ CONS:
If you ONLY like, you’re not really helping the author’s work reach a wide audience because this site isn’t Instagram. Reblogging is the only way people can SEE our works. I’ll cover more on that in the next section.
In a nutshell, liking is good! But you should most likely use it in a combination with the other stuff I’ve listed below, because just the like itself doesn’t really do much in giving the author any feedback or interaction on their fics.
To clear shit up; I’m not talking about those people who don’t read the story or appreciate it in the first place. I’m talking about those who appreciate the fic, like it, but don’t leave any sort of feedback to show that.
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#2 : REBLOGGING !
This is SO, SO important. I cannot stress on this enough. Let me explain WHY so many writers stress on reblogging content: 
Tumblr’s tag system is inherently fucked up, and has grown more so over the year. I’m not kidding, at first, the fic either used to show up in the tags or it didn’t, but now, sometimes your fic can be REMOVED from the tags because of,,, idk tumblr tag shit. Anyways, as you can see, it’s very demotivating for authors at that point, because the major way for people to find their content and expand their blogs has been blocked.  
Due to this reason, tumblr authors need to RELY on you, their followers to help spread their works to a wider audience. Now again, before you get me wrong, I’m not saying you ae forced to rb our works regardless of whether you like them or not. BUT, that being said, if you DO infact like the story, there’s no harm in reblogging, right? By doing this you’re indirectly telling the author — “hey! :D I liked your fic! Which is why I am gonna share it to my followers so they can read it too :D” Trust me, you’re doing nothing but helping the people who produce content for you to read. Seems like a worthy cause to hit the reblog button, right? It’s only a one, or maximum two step procedure.
Leave tags in your reblogs! Trust me, as an author myself and as much as I know from all my author friends, we oft check the tags of your reblogs to see if you found any part amazing or even if you have anything to say about the writing we put so much hard work into. Even a key smash or a “This was so [insert adjective] 🥺” is enough to leave a smile on your authors face. 
♯ PROS :
You’re !! Sharing !! Your authors !! Works !! This leads to them getting more recognition, so for the content they’re so graciously providing for free, you’re promoting their blog and helping them expand it.
If the tags are being a shit, which majority of the time they are, then you’re literally making an author’s day by reblogging! You’re showing them that you, a follower and appreciator of their works are willingly sharing their content because it deserves to be seen by more people. Again before any dumb people decide to attack me, i am talking about people who like the fic but don't bother reblogging and are silent/ghost readers. I am not forcing anyone to read anybody’s work.
YOU’RE MAKING YOUR AUTHOR SO HAPPY WHAT MORE REASONS COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT !! 🥺
♯ CONS :
Literally none, because as far as I remember no author is against reblogging of their works. It’s quite literally the way this platform functions. Reblogging is IMPORTANT.
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#3 : COMMENTING/SENDING FEEDBACK !
This kind of overlaps with the previous section, but THIS IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT STEP !! When you leave feedback, you are directly giving the author something so much more valuable to them than high follower/note counts or money. Your feedback is literally our serotonin. I kid you not the number of times I’ve received a positive comment and smiled and it has made my day. There’s a reason youtubers (though not the best example, bear with me here because it was the only one I could think of) ask people to subscribe, like and COMMENT. The subscription is like a follow, the like is ofc like a heart, and the comment is equivalent to an rb with comments in the tags. 
You might argue and tell me that a comment is basically like an ask so the reblogging step isn’t necessary, but I’m sure 99% of you use YouTube and you know that more comments leads to people’s videos boosted in the stream/trending charts. This is what reblogging does. Reblogging shares the piece with other people like minded, which leads to a boost in reads. You are literally helping your author grow.
It’s quite literally the same thing as youtubers. Youtubers NEED validation to keep their content creation going, so do writers, so do other ccs on this site. This post is however, focused on WRITERS, so keep that in mind.
♯ PROS :
By doing this, you’re giving author valuable feedback! It’s similar to what you do in rbing with tags. Interactivity with their fics boosts their note counts and helps expand their audience, so srsly, now think of it: your one comment is playing such a massive role to help ccs create more content.
Imagine how much of a difference the note counts will be in when every person who simply likes after reading the fic, reblogs, leaves a comment and sends an ask. the note counts would be high on each and every fic, which is validation in itself, but your comments would inspire the writer so much more! Please, don’t skip the commenting part. Even a simple one like: “this is so cute!” is wonderful. 
♯ CONS :
Remember, if you’re gonna give constructive criticism (which I’m sure you all are smart enough to know if different from hate), make sure the author is okay with it. Authors need to be in a specific mindset and must be ready to accept criticism, so if you’re gonna give constructive criticism to them when they’re at a low point, it may demotivate them.
Just commenting, instead of reblogging and commenting in the tags/ reblogging and then leaving an ask in their inbox, while it gives validation in plenty, will not lead to the author’s work being spread. Therefore I suggest either reblogging and commenting in the tags or reblog and then leave an ask, or comment under the fic!
!! reminder; I am not saying that if you don’t rb and just leave feedback, your feedback has no value. We authors truly appreciate every bit of feedback, but this post is aimed to help you learn how to interact with and support authors, and make them feel more motivated, because the current scenario of liking and scrolling is taking a toll on their creative abilities. Take it from a person who’s been writing for a year.
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#4 : COMMSIONING VIA THEIR KO-FI/OTHER APPS !
Before any of you attack me, let me tell you that this is not a step that is 100% necessary to do. ONLY donate if you can and if you genuinely want to, and if anyone is forcing you to pay for something against your will, you need to get yourself out of there.
Regardless, if an author has a kofi and you’re able to and you want to donate, you definitely should! It’s also a valid form of support.
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#5 : ADDING THEM ON REC LISTS/ RECOMMENDING THEM TO REC BLOGS
This is such an underrated option, to be honest. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen my fic was recommended onto some rec list and it’s made me smile so hard. If you like some fics, create a rec list! They’re oft very popular amongst the fans too. Making rec posts is such a great way to share your favorite stories with others. 
Rec blogs! I’ve seen a couple going around, and needless to say they are a great way to get someone else to read your favorite author’s work whilst also giving them your own feedback. These blogs oft accept recs via a form or ask box, and they leave your feedback along with their own, or else they’ll oft tag the author in the feedback post, so look! You’re basically helping your author share their fic to many more people, because you’ve given them feedback and a reblog.
♯ PROS :
Validation! Feedback! Reblogs! More exposure! Helping a blog grow! Spreading love! basically a run down of the stuff I’ve said before!
♯ CONS :
Literally no con of this. Unless, a one in a million case, this author says they don’t like receiving feedback/being tagged, and I’m sure NO person has said this before, at least none that I’ve heard of.
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#6 : FINAL COMMENTS; MISC !
When an author points out about how the interactivity is drastically reducing, don’t just give them blind apologies. Yes, you feel sorry for not interacting as much, we understand, but rather show that you’ll become a better content consumer through your actions. We need to see that we’re not just throwing words into a void and that people are actually trying to be better content consumers. 
Understand the fact that authors don’t get paid for this, and 99% of the time, these authors don’t take commissions either. They’re giving you novel worthy writings for free. Take Percy Jackson: You think the author would have felt motivated to write the subsequent parts, let alone two whole series based off of it if literally no one showed that they were interested? Rick Riordan has sales, he is being paid, there are millions of people and big agencies who provide him feedback. Now take that huge amount and simmer it down to an audience of maybe 10000 people This is what fanfic authors want. They don’t want your money, nor are they telling you to risk your lives for them. All they want is, a reblog, some tags, some feedback, some INTERACTIVITY.  A sign that they aren’t throwing fics into the void and that people actually like them, some motivation to continue. Seems fairly easy to throw an rb with some tags, right?
Don’t bother to tell me that we do this for ourselves and we shouldn’t ask for likes and reblogs and feedback, because 1) you are consuming the content that we “write for ourselves” and 2) writers post their content here for interactivity and feedback. We could just not post and write and save our fics in our dungeon drafts for years. But we choose to post to entertain the readers, the consumers. And we aren’t even asking that much in return.
Don’t give me the whole “I’m scared that authors feel that comments are annoying” excuse either because seriously this has been DEBUNKED SO MANY TIMES. Istg, in the nicest way possible, if you still think writers are annoyed by interaction and feedback, after so many posts, long rants have been posted as to how we’re not, then you must truly be living under a rock. There, I said it. Please stop thinking this way, I’ll say it again, AUTHORS ARE NOT ANNOYED OF FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, TAGS, REBLOGS. WE LOVE IT. Saying this is like saying that the audience in a theatre play shouldn’t clap when the play ends because the actors would find it noisy. 🤡
I’ve seen some people saying they have anxiety issues and such, so pls note that I’m not invalidating your condition. If you’re trying to be more interactive, I really appreciate it! If you can’t, that’s fine too. You’re trying.
But for the people who have no reason other than feeling lazy to rb and comment, your lack of interactiveness is not excused. Please. Tumblr is a reblogging site. If you’re gonna consume content like authors are some sort of machines, I encourage you to go get some more perspective.
This site is not Instagram or the satan bird app. Your likes are appreciated but frankly speaking, they do nothing to the author except tell them “Hey i read ur fic but i'm not gonna support u :D” and honestly, that is detrimental to their creative capabilities and mental health. 
DON’T FOLLOW AN ACC JUST TO MINDLESS RB THEIR SIGNAL BOOST POSTS AND THEIR REBLOGS OF GIFS AND NOT INTERACT WITH THEIR WRITING AT ALL ! Trust me, authors prefer a lower amount of interactive followers than a high count that doesn’t even give them any feedback. Again your follows are appreciated, but when you’re following, you know the type of content the author creates, so the author expects that the more followers, the more interactivity. These days, this is just becoming the opposite. So don’t do it! If you’re gonna follow to read, interact with their works. I promise, this will make both you and the author happy. A win-win situation.
In conclusion: SUPPORT YOUR FUCKING AUTHORS! THEY ARE NOT MACHINES THAT HAVE NO FEELINGS TO PRODUCE CONTENT FOR YOU! FICS TAKE DAYS AND DAYS OF PLANNING, PLOTTING, OUTLINING, WRITING, EDITING, MAKING TEASERS. SO JUST SHOW THEM YOU APPRECIATE THEM WITH AN RB. IT’S THE L E A S T YOU CAN DO.
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I will be liking this post here written by the lovely @chaninfused​ and @scriptura-delirus​ . Please take time to read it because if you weren’t convinced by my arguments, you will see how much frustration we as writers face on a daily basis. Please, just show support. Here is the post by @stayndays​ about how to get more people to read your work, because it also has a note on reblogging. Please educate yourself, and put an end to this mindless consuming culutre and bring up some interactivity.
If you’ve read this far, I want you to go to two of your favorite authors and leave some feedback in their inbox, and tag me in it (either tag me yourself or ask the author to do so, they won’t mind). Show your writers that our words are taking effect and you are becoming better consumers. I mean it. I’m serious. I want every single one who reads this post to do this. besides valid reasons, if you’re lazy to do this, you’re a part of the problem. PLEASE get more perspective.
Also, feel free to add to this post! I’d love to read your thoughts too, remember to be kind though. And, if I think your rb is somehow contradicting my points and is bringing down the reason I made this post, I will politely ask you to delete your comment, because this post is about being truthful about the harsh reality of tumblr consumers and how we can change it. I’m sure none of you will let it get to that point, though. <3 love you guys. 💓
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And, just a reminder, don’t just blindly like this too. Do what I said before, and while I am not forcing you, I’d appreciate your reblog, because seriously, it took me 3 whole days to write this, plus, I’m sure this will help more of your followers understand the fault in consumer culture. haha, that’s it! This post was way too long uff.
also, this is ur cue to not be stupid in my inbox. You have something to say? Think I worded smth wrongly? I’m sure it wasn’t my intention to do so, point it out with manners. 
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697 notes · View notes
ameliora-j · 3 years
Text
happier than ever // hp x reader
words: 1.7k
warnings: breakup, talk of the war, angsty asf, i think that’s all but as always lmk loves! :)
a/n: based on happier than ever by billie eilish,, italics are flashback/song lyrics
a/n ii: i do NOT like nor do i promote billie eilish in any way at all. but the song is trending on tiktok and i thought it’d be a good fic idea
it was the biggest argument the two of you had ever had. the one that resulted in the end of your relationship. you regretted every single second of it. you knew that he was trying. that he just wanted to help. he was trying to make a better world for himself. for everyone. for you. for both of you. so you could have the future you always talked about.
but lately he wasn’t around. he had a lot of responsibilities, you understood that. but you were his girlfriend. and lately he wasn’t being much of a boyfriend. you tried to push it away when he called rain checks on your dates. or when he was late because it “slipped his mind.” or when, sometimes… he didn’t even show at all.
it was your final straw when he showed up three hours late for your anniversary dinner. it wasn’t even your true anniversary… that was two weeks ago. but he had missed that because he was at hagrid’s hut with ron and hermione. you pushed it off with a shrug and a small smile. no more than a “it’s okay harry, i promise. i know you have a lot on your plate right now,” as you kissed his cheek and retreated to your dorm for the night.
but that night… that night you just had so much pent up anger. you were sick of it, truthfully. and you flipped out. “why’re you so dressed up, love?” the question would usually have made your heart sink. but by now you were used to it. now you just scoffed. you were numb to the hurt of him forgetting.
“had an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend. but it seems like he forgot… again,” you spoke plainly.
“darling i’m so sorry you have to believe me,” he implored.
“it’s fine harry. really,” you shrugged as you blinked back your angry tears.
“we can… we can reschedule. tomorrow i promise,” he bit his lip hopefully.
“no. it’s fine,” you shrugged.
“okay. if tomorrow doesn’t work, we can try next week maybe?” he tried again. you shook your head again. “okay well if not next week then i’m not sure. i’ve got army meetings and ron, mione, and i have plans with hagrid. plus we’ve got the end of years coming up so i have to study. when do you want to reschedule for?”
“i don’t harry,” you answered, finally letting the dam break. two tears fell slowly down your cheeks. “i don’t want to reschedule. or try a different day because there won’t be one. it’ll just be the same thing all over again. you’ll be late. if you even care to remember that we have a date at all,” you spat bitterly.
“yn, i’m trying,” harry quickly became defensive at the venom spitting from your tongue. “i’m doing my best really, can’t you see that? i’m trying to save the world here, you’re not making it easy by being so clingy,” he spat ruthlessly.
“then let me make it easier on you, harry. you never have to worry about me again,” you offered a sad smile as you turned and began to walk away.
“you’re breaking up with me?” the sea-eyed boy was dumbfounded.
“yeah. i’m making saving the world easier on you. you won’t have to worry about a clingy girlfriend anymore. go do what you need to do and save the world harry,” you told him. “too bad you couldn’t save your relationship as well,” you sniffled as you retreated to your dorm.
it hurt you to leave harry. but you both needed it. two years of dating and an even longer relationship… and it just all went to shit. it exploded right before your eyes.
you spent the following weeks buried under your covers. sobbing your little heart out, when you weren’t in class. you knew what would come of breaking up with hogwarts’ golden boy and the savior of the world. the dirty looks. the whispers. however, what you didn’t expect… was for the whole wizarding world to hear about it.
what you didn’t expect was for the front page of the daily prophet to read in big, bold lettering: “THE BOY WHO LIVED: HEARTBROKEN.” you read through the article by rita skeeter and you were fuming. she had called you “cold” and “heartless.” and much, much nastier words that you couldn’t even repeat, all of which were completely untrue.
harry had made you out to be the bad guy, of course. the golden boy could never do anything wrong. you scoffed as you picked up the paper and stormed your way to the great hall. all conversation at the gryffindor had died down as their eyes locked on you, storming over to harry. “you LIAR!” you screamed as you roughly shoved his chest, throwing the paper down in front of him.
he raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the article. “i see no lies here,” he shrugged, causing ron, ginny, and hermione to stifle a laugh. you rolled your eyes at this. “you’re nothing but a cold. heartless. bitch,” he spat ruthlessly.
“as if! harry that’s you! you’re cold and you’re heartless! you don’t care about anyone but yourself, oh chosen one,” you spit right back.
“cold and heartless when i’m saving the world?” he raised an eyebrow as he scoffed.
“please cut your little bullshit ‘i the chosen one am saving the world’ ploy. it’s nothing but bullshit! neville could save the world just as well as you can,” you shook your head. “you’re nothing without your title harry. absolutely nothing,” you growled. you saw red. nothing but red. you were positively pissed. anger was the only thought processing in your brain. “you’re an entitled brat harry. who never sees himself in the wrong even when you break hearts.”
“then i guess we’re one in the same, aren’t we, yn?” he snarked.
“oh please. you wish harry. i don’t relate to you. i could never relate to you. cus i would’ve never treated me as shitty as you did,” you shook your head as you spoke. crossing your arms defensively as you prepared to tell the chosen one all about himself.
“i treated you so shitty and yet, i still work my ass off to continue to save your life along with everyone else on the planet. right,” he scoffed.
“cut your bullshit harry. stop with the savior of the world shit. you scared me half to death with all of the dangerous shit you did. you stick your neck out and swim oceans for people who wouldn’t even step over a fucking puddle for you! you think these people care about you? they don’t! you’re a pawn in their little war. that’s all you’ll ever be!” you scoffed again. “i don’t even know why i’m wasting my breath. you only ever listen to your fucking ‘friends’ anyway,” you put air quotes around the word as you forced yourself to keep your tears at bay.
“so what if i’m a pawn! i’m helping! you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter you’re entire life! you’d never know what this life feels like!” he shouted back.
“that’s your problem harry! you never see anyone’s problems but your own! you weren’t even aware of the fact that you made me miserable! for weeks you made me miserable. i couldn’t even tell if i still had a boyfriend or not!” you harshly rubbed your nose on the sleeve of your robe. “i wish it wasn’t true, but now that i’m away from you, i’m somehow happier. at least i know you don’t love me anymore instead of having to wonder every night,” you shook your head.
“we’re done yn! you made that very clear when you left me after forgetting one date! why do you care so much!” he yelled.
“because it wasn’t one date harry it was multiple! hogwarts was my home harry! and you made me hate this school!” you shouted.
“so what?! we’re over yn, i’m moving on and handling it in my own way! you should too!” his face was red and the vein in his neck was protruding. all eyes in the great hall—including those of the professors’—were on the two of you.
“no! cus i don’t talk shit about you all over the daily prophet or in school for that matter! i’ve never said anything bad about you!” you yelled at him.
“well why not? apparently you have every right to since i was such a horrible boyfriend for trying to make a better world for the two of us to have a future in,” he scoffed.
you rolled your eyes and decided upon not wasting your breath at his use of that defense yet again. “cause that shit’s embarrassing harry! you were my everything and all you ever did was make me fucking sad!” you rubbed at your nose again, nearly positive that the tip of it was now rubbed raw.
“i’m sorry that you feel like i was so terrible to you. i’m sorry that i couldn’t save our relationship like i saved the world like you said,” he shook his head.
“oh don’t try to make me feel bad harry! i have a whole laundry list of good and bad things about you. but at some point the good stopped outweighing the bad,” by now the inevitable had happened and tears had begun to spill slowly over your lash line.
“really? cus it sounds like you have nothing but bad things to say,” he snarked with a small scoff.
“i mean i could list all the times you showed up on time, but it’d be empty because you never did. you ruined everything good in my life, harry. and you always say you’re so misunderstood but you’re not! you’re just a heartless, selfish, asshole!” you shoved his chest roughly. “just fucking leave me alone! and keep my name out of your mouth,” you rolled your waterlogged eyes as you walked away.
once you were in the safety of your dorm, you let it all out. you slid slowly down the closed door and pulled your knees to your chest, releasing all the sobs you held in during your screaming match. your heart broke for the second time in less than a month. you choked over sobs as your stomach twisted in pained knots, matching the feeling of your heart thumping behind your ribcage.
your everything was gone. but somehow… you were happier than ever without him.
312 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 3 years
Note
hi, i love all your work! could i please request headcanons for what it'd be like to go from being enemies to lovers with nikolai lantsov.
thank you:)
A/N maybe i moved this up on my request lists bc i woke up today and went 'nikolai lantsov'
--
- i'm being a little liberal with cannon bc my mind first went to 'princess! reader who hates nikolai bc they're competitive and then they have to team up together to try to get their parents to break up their arranged marriage but fall in love in the process (this might be a little undetailed but i'm thinking of writing a full fic or mini-series with this plotline so let me know if you'd be interested!! i could see a smutty ending to that fic but idk,, lmk what you thing ig lol)
- Ok so first off enemies to lovers with the loml nikolai lantsov would be SO GOOD bc he's so dramatic and obviously attractive so even though you hate him you know he's hot,, there's never a dramatic realization that he's attractive bc it's just a fact
- butttt you'd rather give up any claim you have to your family's throne than feed his already gigantic ego
- okk but lets get to the beginning of your enemies to lovers relationship
- so basically every summer your parents go and stay with Nikolai's family at this super fancy vacation home bc your parents are both royalty and your kingdoms have a very healthy relationship
- just bc it's the summer season doesn't mean it's summer vacation,, so as children for about a month you two share a tutor,, and when i tell you that created a rivalry so fast i mean it
- you're not the eldest princess and you're always trying to be the best for your parents approval, nikolai just wanted to impress the really smart girl who had a pretty laugh (poor nikolai lol,, he had no way of knowing how important being the best in school no matter what was to your self esteem)
- maybe if you two could communicate you’d like each other a little better at this point but it starts when you’re pretty young and by the time you’re like 13 it’s a solidified dynamic (and 13 year olds are the MEANEST and most insecure people in the world so that’s when your relationship turns to full enemies)
- now that you’re 13 you have more princess-y requirements, especially over the summer. So when you see that Nikolai gets to practice with swords and gets more free time while you have to practice setting tables you hate him more than ever. 
- Nikolai senses that you’re extra hostile but he has no idea why,, he tries asking once but he makes a joke about how ‘maybe you’re jealous bc youre no longer the center of my attention’ and even though he’s just trying to ease the tension you feel like he’s making fun of you
- so that’s when things get aggressive, but at that point summer is almost over so it’s whatever
- next summer comes and you’re still SO MAD at him,, so when you get to the estate you’re like ‘i’m not even talking to him idc how quiet these next three months are’ 
- and you get there all determined to hate him,, but once you get there and see him something in you cracks bc he had the audacity to spend the last year going through puberty AND LIKE HE’S ALWAYS BEEN CUTE BUT THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE 
- so youre mentally panicking bc how do you even talk to someone that looks like that now???? but then you remember that you didnt even want to talk him so in a panic youre like ‘maybe i can avoid him and he’ll just assume it’s bc i hate him bc i do,, who cares if he’s unbelievably hot now’ 
- nikolai doesn’t assume anything, he just gets to the estate and is like ‘why hasn’t she insulted me yet?? is she suddenly too good to give me attention?’ so during the lessons that you still share he gets an idea
- he decides to one-up you in everything bc that’s always gotten a reaction out of you 
- it works,, every time he corrects you or steals an answer from you, you’re ready to snap but then you look at him and take in his stupidly perfect face and  you just shut up 
- nikolai thinks it’s not working so he just tries harder
- by the end of week one you can’t take it anymore so when the tutor leaves at the end of lessons you snap, you tell him off for how often he’d repeat what you said and change a few words and get all the praise from the tutor
- on the inside he’s like ‘took long enough’ but the more you rant he’s like ‘is she okay???’ he’d be more concerned if you weren’t threatening his pride and at this point he’s still annoyed bc if you were that annoyed you should have just talked to him instead of ignoring him for a week
- he’s thinking that just bc you got really pretty over the last year doesn’t make you too good to yell at him on the daily
- the worst thing anyone can do to nikolai is ignore him LMAO (lowkey relatable)
- so he starts arguing with you and you’re so upset that you forget about how aggressively attractive he is 
- and you two are alone in this room and the more you argue the closer you two get
- the climax of the argument is when neither of you are yelling, you’re just so mad you’re beyond raising your voice and once you’re both at that point it goes like this: 
“Nikolai Lantsov, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met” 
“Well then, Darling, you should look in a mirror.” 
“You are so entitled, so ridiculously self obsessed that it ruins your attractiveness.” 
“...” he literally just like blinks twice. “You think I’m attractive?” 
“Uh? No--i didn’t say that at all, maybe if you didn’t have the language comprehension of a child you’d understa--” he just reaches forward, grabs the collar of your dress, and kisses you. 
- it’s your first kiss so you have no idea what you’re doing and it’s with some one you CANT STAND and you’re so mad bc you had expectations for your first kiss and he’s taken that from you--but the thing is,, 
- he’s good at it. Like really good at it. Like so good it makes you curious about what he does the nine months of the year he’s not stuck here with you bc there’s no way he hasn’t had practice. 
- but you’re also extremely confused and nervous and aware of how stupid you’re being (and a little hormonal bc being 14 isn’t easy) and then he places his hand on your cheek and that snaps some sense of reality into you bc it’s one thing to enjoy the kiss but another thing entirely to want him to escalate it
- so you place one hand on his chest and push him off of you slightly. He takes the hint, pulls away enough to look at you and then you two just stare at each other 
- your hand is still on his chest and you have absolutely no idea what comes next, but you find yourself looking at his lips
- since you haven’t slapped him or pulled away more than a few inches he thinks maybe things are okay so he leans forward slightly and kisses you again. 
- you reciprocate a little too fast, the kiss lasts two seconds before thinking about how insane you’re being so you push away entirely. 
- He lets you go,, and in the most awkward display ever you’re like ‘uh I need to go,, i can’t be late to ball preparation lessons’ and you leave that room faster than you’ve ever left a room in your entire life. 
- the next day you consider pretending to be sick to avoid him but that would only give him more power over the situation so you go,, and he’s just sitting there calmly
- youre on edge the entire day but he never even jokes about it
- a part of you is a tiny bit annoyed bc who kisses you and then pretends it never happened? but overall, you’re relieved 
- the days pass and it never comes up but now whenever you two argue you think of how quickly kissing him both shut him up and got rid of your tension 
- the summer goes by quickly, your usual dynamic has returned and you wonder if he even remembers kissing you. twice. in a row. 
- the next couple of years are normal,, even when you two no longer take lessons together you still dont like him. He’s just so assured and he takes such joy in bothering you. 
- and then one summer your parents sit you down and they’re like ‘we need to plan the future alliance of our kingdom’ 
- you’re a little confused bc you’re rarely allowed to sit in on these things bc you’re a girl and you’re basically meant to just be a royal’s bride--and then you realize why you’re there. 
- you start protesting before your father can finish announcing your engagement 
- the parents were smart bc they announced it at the end of summer so you two couldn’t drive them crazy or conspire
- the first thing you do when you get back to your castle is write to him for the first time ever 
- your letter is basically ‘pls tell me you’re doing something’ 
- the two of you talk until you come up with the plan to get your parents to break up your engagement 
- your parents dont really care about your feelings and they expect the two of you to argue with them,, but they care about the kingdoms
- so you two decide that if you act like youre so in love that you let your duties slip the engagement will end,, especially if you two are in love in a toxic way 
- so the next summer you two make sure to flirt and act like youre totally obsessed with each other and skip lessons together and just are constantly together and acting like you’re on a honeymoon
- your parents are like ?? since when 
- at one point you flirt with a random guard just so Nikolai can have a ‘jealous outburst’ while your families are strolling through the garden 
- ngl jealous nikolai had you ready to RISK IT ALL,, you were ready to drop the plan and marry him on the spot 
- he notices bc he notices everything about you and when your family walks away he gives you a quick kiss and youre stunned,, much to his delight 
- your desire to break up your engagement takes a slight backseat in your mind bc you decide to set off on a secret goal to make him flustered
- it doesn’t take much, your dresses get a little more risky, your comments get a little more suggestive
- the only problem?? he seems to have his own personal goal and it’s to make you even more flustered than he is
- soon the two of you are lost in layers of pretend and competition
- when your parents are finally thinking about delaying the engagement and keeping you two away from each other until you calm down a little (i feel bad for them,, an entire summer of being surrounded by the ULTIMATE sexual tension) 
- you’re sad and you don’t know why bc this is what you wanted, but then Nikolai stands up and says that you two planned for this and he has the letters to prove it (he was ready to drop the receipts LMAO) and youre like ??what are you doing?
- and he says he’d rather marry you then never see you again bc now all he wants is to get know you bc he has no idea how he wasted so much time arguing with you 
- and you just meltttt but your in front of your entire family and his as well so you just sit there for a minute and then you tell him you feel the same way 
- but the summer’s over
- you kiss him before leaving and he says you’ll have to visit bc he can’t go an entire year without seeing your ‘pretty face’ 
- you promise to visit him soon
- your at home for exactly a day and a half before getting an invitation to visit him 
- you laugh bc the only way that letter could get to you that fast is if he mailed it before you even left 
- you say yes obviously,, and spend some time having a really cute fall-dating vibes together until you figure out how you really feel 
- and you feel like he makes your heart STOP and that’s why you hated him,, bc you didn’t like being vulnerable 
263 notes · View notes
cryptiql · 3 years
Text
smoke signals
pairing: dabi/m!reader
warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3
words: 6.5k
a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)
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dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.
dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.
so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.
the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.
what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?
not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.
dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.
you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.
"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.
"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.
"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"
"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.
kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.
after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.
"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"
shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.
"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."
and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.
the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.
right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?
he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.
the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.
the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.
when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.
even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.
your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.
"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."
a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.
sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?
"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.
"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."
after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.
"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"
dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.
"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."
"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.
"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"
dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.
five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.
it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.
many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.
dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.
a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?
the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.
he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.
the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.
his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.
the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.
"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."
dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.
"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."
dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.
with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.
"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.
"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."
dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.
"the name's, y/n, by the way!"
try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.
your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.
"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."
okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.
"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.
he hates it. he hates you.
dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.
"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.
you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.
"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.
"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—
"you were saying?"
"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.
the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.
this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.
you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.
dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.
"you're welcome." is all he can muster.
half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.
this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.
but it's not.
trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.
dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.
"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.
"why do you call me that?"
you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"
you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.
"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?
you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.
"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."
upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.
"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."
once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.
"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."
"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.
your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.
"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"
dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.
he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.
not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.
"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.
"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.
"hm?"
dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.
"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."
you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.
"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"
you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.
"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.
"no."
you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.
"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."
dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."
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gamerwoo · 3 years
Text
Seventeen: Welcome to Caratland (End)
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Characters: Seventeen x reader (gender neutral)
Genre/warnings: horror/halloween au, choose your own adventure au, horror au, angst, murder, major character death, 
Summary: The night before Halloween, you and your 13 friends decide to go explore the infamous abandoned amusement park: Caratland, where it’s rumored that rides start on their own, empty mascot suits are seen walking around, and people don’t return the same as when they left. Can you and your friends survive the night in Caratland?
a/n: realizing halloween is coming up, i’ve decided to FINALLY finish the au i did last halloween. for those who kept up with it: i’m sorry for discontinuing it. there was hardly any interaction with it so i just lost interest and motivation. and the lack of interaction is why i decided to just put all the choices in this part so you can see all the endings and whatnot. i’m sorry it took so long to wrap things up and there will probably be mistakes so i’m sorry about that, but i hope you all still enjoy it. ALSO LMK WHICH PATH/ENDING YOU GET FIRST TIME AROUND!!!
Tag list: @sadienita @xummie @mingoats @xxbluestrifexx @kwanseo @junhaoshua @allegxdly​ 
Previous | Caratland Masterlist
[NOTE: there will probably be mix-ups with paths and endings because i literally just did all of this in 3 days and posted without anyone proof reading it. i will go through everything later to fix and edit things, so please be patient with me!!!]
»»————-  ————-««
16 -- A
“It’s probably best to go back to the breach, right?” you decided. “We know it’s there so it’s the best way to get back.”
“_____ has a point,” Wonwoo shrugged.
“Alright, everyone head back to the hole -- and don’t get split up,” Seungcheol stated before deciding to take the lead.
“Okay, but if I see one of those glorified Chuck E. Cheese mascots coming toward us, I’m leaving all of you behind,” Seungkwan muttered as he followed with the group.
All of you were glancing around trying to keep an eye out for the animatronics, while also trying to quickly and quietly make your way back to the way you’d gotten into the park. You kept mentally kicking yourself for convincing your friends to come here. If it wasn’t for you, you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. You were just lucky everyone was still here...
The gates were starting to come into view, and you felt relief begin to course through you. Your legs were starting to move faster on their own, just wanting to get out of this living nightmare.
Seungcheol shooting his arms out to stop the group was what had you skid to a stop. He whispered loudly for everyone to get down behind the nearby shrubs and two trash bins. The fourteen of you poked your heads around to see what had gotten him to act like this, and your heart sank at what you saw
Serenity was blocking the hole in the fence.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan hissed.
“We’re gonna die here...” Seokmin whispered, but Wonwoo was quick to comfort him.
“What’s the plan now?” Hansol wondered.
“I know it’ll risk us going to jail or something,” Jihoon began, “but I think it’s time we just cave and call someone.”
“No, I’m not going back there!” Seungkwan whispered intensely.
Your eyebrows furrowed as your turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”
“I’d rather get arrested than get murdered,” Mingyu insisted. “At least we know we’ll be safe and alive in jail.”
You made a face, “Will we, though?”
“Listen,” Hansol interrupted as he pulled out his phone, “I’ll just call my parents -- they’re really chill. And worse case scenario, they just lecture us.”
But as he went to make the call, all his phone did was beep at him like the line was busy. He took the phone away from his ear and looked down, furrowing his eyebrows.
“We had service all night, right?” he asked.
“Yeah...?” Joshua replied.
“Well now I don’t for some reason,” he said, turning his phone screen to show his friends.
Mingyu’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding.”
Then everyone, including you, were taking out their phones and checking for service. Just like Hansol, you had no bars.
Unfortunately, everyone else was in the same boat.
Now, Seokmin was on the verge of tears, “We’re going to die here!”
“Don’t get hysterical yet,” Minghao told him. “There’s gotta be a way out of this. Even if we have to wait around until morning, we can probably out-run these hunks of metal.”
“Y’know, I heard a friend of a friend snuck in here once,” Soonyoung began. “Some dude Changkyun knows. He said there’s apparently some sort of underground exit under the food court.”
“At this point, we’ll have to try anything,” Wonwoo sighed.
“So back to the food court?” Seungcheol practically whined.
You took a deep breath, “Unfortunately, yeah.”
[GO TO: 17 -- A]
»»————-  ————-««
16 -- B
“Does anyone even remember where the hole in the fence is?” you asked.
Everyone either gave you blank stares or shook their heads. You let out a sigh.
“Alternate way it is,” Minghao shrugged.
“Let’s just hang here until someone thinks of something,” Seungcheol suggested. “We’re all here, and I think those things are still hanging around wherever we were before. It’ll take a while before we see them again.”
So the fourteen of you hung out at the merry-go-round. Most of you leaned up against the horses or found yourselves sitting down on them. A few of you sat on the two steps of the platform. Chan and Wonwoo were sitting in one of the carriages that most families or parents sat in. All of you were scrolling on your phones or looking at someone else’s phone, trying to research anything about Caratland that might help you find a way out. Maybe a map or a blueprint or something might come up. 
Suddenly, the ride jerked. You almost fell over onto Junhui as the ride began turning slowly, the music trying to play but the wiring was too old and worn that it just sounded demonic at best.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Jihoon scoffed. “Who turned on the ride?”
The question was overlooked by Mingyu’s shriek. Every head who was on his side of the merry-go-round whipped over to see Bongbong sitting on a horse only a few rows away from the tall boy. But another scream from Seungkwan was what brought attention to the answer to Jihoon’s question.
Eight was standing at the controls of the ride, his never-changing smile on his face as he slowly waved.
“Run!” Joshua called, leaping off of the horse he was sitting sideways on.
“Run where?” Seokmin called as he scrambled to get off the ride and jump the short fence.
“Food court!” Soonyoung shouted as he pumped his legs as fast as they would go. “It’s a long shot...but I have an idea!”
“I’d rather know the idea first!” Jeonghan called after him as the group ran together away from the merry-go-round.
“One of Changkyun’s friends apparently broke in before!” he tried to explain between breaths. “He said there’s an underground exit there! Who knows if it’s legit, but...”
But it was the only plan they had.
[GO TO: 17 -- A]
»»————-  ————-««
17 -- A
All of you had to squeeze through the tiny basement windows to get back in after finding the doors to be locked once again.
“How’d those fuckers get out in the first place?” Jeonghan huffed as he landed on the concrete floor of the basement. “The doors have been locked this entire time.”
“We’re being chased by animatronics that haven’t been functioning for years, and they’re out to kill us for some reason, and that’s what you’re going to question?” Soonyoung pointed out.
“Can we focus, please?” Seungcheol whined. “The sooner we find this secret eit, the sooner we’re free.”
“Everyone start searching,” Hansol said, waiving for everyone to scour the basement.
All of you searched every inch you could. The floor, the walls, shelves, behind old cupboards and props -- but there was nothing.
“What if it’s not here?” Chan suggested.
“Yeah? And where else would an underground exit be other than in the basement?” Jeonghan shot back.
The youngest frowned and rolled his eyes, “Soonyoung just said it was underground, he didn’t say under what part of the food court.”
“I mean...Jeonghan has a point,” Seokmin admitted hesitantly. “The basement is underground.”
[TO GO UPSTAIRS TO THE FOOD COURT GO TO: 18 -- A]
[TO CONTINUE SEARCHING THE BASEMENT GO TO: 18 -- B]
»»————-  ————-««
18 -- A
“It can’t hurt to check somewhere else,” you spoke up, moving to stand beside Chan. “We’re looked everywhere down here. What if it’s not in the basement? There could be some secret tunnel under a different location and we’re just going to be here wasting our time.”
“I mean...yeah, that makes sense,” Jihoon decided with a shrug. “Alright, we’ll try back upstairs.”
“I don’t wanna go back up there...” Seokmin whined, clinging to the nearest person -- it happened to be Junhui.
“We’re all going,” you reassured him with a soft smile. “Let’s go. Nothing’s going to happen.”
You led the way up the stairs this time, but you found yourself going slow. You strained your ears for any noise on the other side of the basement door but the food court seemed to be quiet. Maybe the animatronics couldn’t get back in since the doors were locked.
You pushed the door open cautiously, poking your head out to glance around. It seemed empty, so you opened the door wider and let everyone else out.
“Is that e--”
SLAM!
All of you jumped back and turned around hearing the basement door slam shut behind the last person out. 
“Fuck this, I want out,” Mingyu stated, shaking his head as he began to quickly walk away from the door.
“Hold up,” Wonwoo reached out and grabbed Mingyu’s wrist to keep him with the group. “We should stick together.”
“It probably just closed from the weight of the door anyway,” Minghao figured before going to pull on the door handle.
It didn’t budge.
“Move out of the way, toothpick,” Seungcheol smoothly pushed Minghao out of the way before trying the door himself.
Still nothing.
“D-did it...lock?” Chan asked slowly.
“Haha, would you look at that?” Seungkwan said, checking his wrist that very clearly didn’t have a watch on it. “I actually have to get the fuck out of here. Bye!”
“Maaaaybe,” Hansol grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him back, “don’t do that.”
“Yeah, nobody goes running off, got it?” Jihoon checked, shining his light at everyone to make sure they agreed to the new rule. “Shit’s too weird to be splitting up.”
“I think our best bet would be to hide in the security room until morning,” you spoke up. “It’s probably the safest place in here.”
“_____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “Let’s go -- and stick together.”
As a group, all of you made your way to the security room, with you, Jihoon, and Soonyoung leading the way. All of you had your lights, shining them around to make sure the entire area was safe until you made it to the security room and barricaded the door closed.
“Jesus Christ, I hated that,” Mingyu panted as if he had been holding his breath the entire time you were walking.
“I think I almost shit myself,” Soonyoung admitted.
“Imagine your last words being ‘I think I almost shit myself’,” Junhui snorted.
“Hang on, shut the fuck up,” Seungcheol snapped, holding a hand up as he quickly scanned the group in the room. He was trying to count heads while all of you were talking, and as he quickly recounted, his blood turned to ice. “Why are we one short?”
“One short?” Jeonghan asked.
“Someone’s missing,” he said urgently.
“Alright, let’s run attendance real quick,” Jihoon decided, trying to stay level-headed. He pulled out his phone and went to the group chat. “Obviously I’m here. Soonyoung?”
“Here.”
“Seungcheol?”
“Here.”
“Mingyu?”
“Unfortunately here.”
“Hansol?”
“Yup.”
“_____?”
“Here.”
“Joshua?”
Silence.
Jihoon looked up from his phone, repeating, “Josh?”
You and your friends looked around, trying to find Joshua’s face in the crowded room. But nobody spoke up, and the silence following Joshua’s name became deafening.
“Oh fuck...” you breathed, trying to not completely lose your shit. “Did we really lose Josh?”
“We have to go back for him,” Jeonghan insisted.
“What? No!” Seungkwan shouted. “That’s suicide!”
Then everyone was bickering. While everyone of course wanted to hope Joshua was safe, half of the group felt that going back out to look for him would mean all of them would get killed. The other half, on the other hand, were willing to risk their lives to go on a rescue mission.
[TO GO OUT LOOKING FOR JOSHUA GO TO: 19 -- A]
[TO STAY IN THE SECURITY ROOM GO TO: 19 -- B]
»»————-  ————-««
18 -- B
“I mean...how would it be under anywhere else?” you asked slowly with a shrug. “No offense, Chan. But like, this is kind of the only basement in the place.”
“See?” Jeonghan sneered.
Chan just frowned and rolled his eyes.
“There’s gotta be something we missed,” Soonyoung said, trying to stay calm. “Let’s just sweep the place over again.”
But after more looking, you still came up with nothing.
“At this point, I’m about to just dig through the boxes of old animatronic parts and just hope there’s a portal at the bottom or something,” Joshua sighed, slumped against a wall with Jeonghan beside him.
“Good luck,” Jeonghan scoffed. “I already tried picking one up to move them away from the wall but they’re super fucking heavy. It’s literally impossible.”
You turned your head to look at the large stack of boxes. There were piles of various sizes, but the ones at the back pressed up against the wall went up the highest. It was a long shot, but behind the boxes was the only place nobody checked because it couldn’t be reached. But with everyone giving up hope, it didn’t hurt to try, right?
“Hey, Gyu,” you spoke up before pointing to the boxes. “Think you can move those?”
Mingyu shrugged, “Yeah, probably.”
He walked over to the wall and began lifting boxes one-by-one. He grunted as he picked them up and moved them away until he called everyone over.
“There’s metal behind here!” he called over his shoulder.
“Ooh, is it the door?” Soonyoung asked excitedly, pushing himself off the floor.
“Told you it was better to look down here,” Jeonghan said once more.
Jihoon groaned, “Can you let it go? Leave Chan alone already.”
Seungcheol started assisting in the box-moving until the metal door was accessible. Seungcheol tried to push it open, but it didn’t budge. He tried harder, but still nothing.
“Can I try?” Mingyu asked.
Seungcheol stepped out of the way, gesturing for the tallest to give it a shot.
Mingyu threw his shoulder into the door a few times before it finally swung open, leading to a narrow corridor that looked like it would bring you straight to Hell.
“Okay,” Soonyoung breathed out, “let’s see if this is the way to freedom.”
[GO TO 20 -- A]
»»————-  ————-««
19 -- A
“Why is this an argument?!” you shouted over the bickering. “Our friend could be dead! I don’t care if nobody comes with me, but I’m going to find Josh.”
“I’ll go,” Jeonghan stated.
“Me too,” Hansol volunteered with a slight raise of his hand.
“Plus, I highly doubt an animatronic got him,” Minghao scoffed as he went to join your group as you went to open the door.
“Well...good luck with that,” Seungkwan nodded.
In the end, it was you leading the way, with Jeonghan, Hansol, Minghao, Seokmin, and Seungcheol tagging along -- the latter two clinging to each other as you opened the door and went down the short hallway to the door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY on the other side.
“Why would he split off from the group?” Jeonghan wondered. “If he were trying to prank you guys, he would’ve had me in on it.”
“Maybe he just--”
Your sentence was cut off by a scream -- your own scream. Your eyes saw the scene before you: Joshua’s body laying just in front of the EMPLOYEES ONLY door, a bloodied mess. All you could do was scream.
Standing over him, covered in what you could only assume was your friend’s blood, was Bongbong.
“_____, run!” Minghao shouted, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the door.
He quickly reached for the door and slammed it closed as you and the others ran back down the short hall. Jihoon had poked his head out the door to see what the noise was, and you crashed right into him, hyperventilating as tears welled in your eyes.
God, that image was going to be burned into your brain forever.
“What happened?” he asked.
“J-J-Josh!” you sobbed.
“Those things are in here,” Minghao panted, closing the door to the security room and pressing his back. “Th-they got Josh.”
“You’re fucking with us,” Seungkwan said quietly and very unsurely.
“Would Minghao fuck with you?!” Jeonghan cried. “If you don’t believe us, why don’t you go out there and check for yourself, Kwan? Go get yourself traumatized!”
“Okay, don’t scream at him, it won’t help anything,” Wonwoo spoke up, trying to somehow keep the group put together.
“Let’s just focus on finding a way out,” Seungcheol decided in a shaky voice. 
“U-um...guys?” Mingyu spoke up, staring into the monitors.
Everyone gathered over to see what he was looking at.
Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.
They knew where you were.
“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”
“I get it’s scary, but we have to stay calm and--”
“Hey!”
Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He smirked, gesturing to the door.
“While you guys were shitting your pants, I found the underground exit,” he stated.
“Well fuck, kid,” Jihoon whistled under his breath.
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.
Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”
Jeonghan just rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”
[GO TO 20 -- A]
»»————-  ————-««
19 -- B
You felt like a shitty person for not wanting to risk your life for Joshua. You felt extremely guilty that you didn’t want to go out and look for your friend, but truthfully, you were afraid to die -- and that’s why half your friends didn’t want to go looking for him. Not everyone was brave enough to be a hero, and while you always told yourself you would be when putting yourself into the shoes of horror movie characters, it just wasn’t the truth.
But in the midst of the argument of whether or not to go out to search for Josh -- the argument that you stayed silent for -- Mingyu spoke up in a shaky voice, “U-uh...g-guys?”
Everyone turned toward him to see he was staring into the monitors. You all gathered over to see what he was looking at.
Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. However, the monitors had gone fuzzy so you couldn’t see anything in any of the rooms.
Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why are the cameras suddenly down?”
You wished they stayed that way after seeing what was displayed next. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.
They knew where you were.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.
You could see on one of the monitors, Bongbong was standing in front of the camera holding a familiar body. Joshua was being held up by his neck, and blood was coming out of his mouth, nose, eyes, and even his ears. 
You weren’t the only one to let out a scream and flinch away from the camera, hiding your face as you started panicking and crying.
“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”
“We have to find the fucking exit!” Seungcheol said in a panic. “Everyone go--”
“Hey!”
Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He was just staring at you like he hadn’t just witnessed what all of you did -- and maybe he didn’t because he was too busy searching.
“Way ahead of you,” he stated.
“Thank god,” Jihoon said under his breath.
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.
Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”
Jeonghan just glared at him, “I’m not in the fucking mood.”
And then he went down the ladder.
[GO TO 20 -- A]
»»————-  ————-««
20 -- A
Other than only being wide enough for one person to walk through at a time, it was also very dimly-lit. It definitely looked like something straight out of a horror movie that would 100% lead to the characters’ imminent death.
Needless to say your heart was pounding in your ears.
There was another metal door, but this one was far easier to open. The squeak of it echoed down the corridor as the thirteen of you filed into the room. It seemed to be where they kept the spare mascot suits that actual employees would wear. There were a few of the bodies of the suits hanging up, with heads scattered in corners and on shelves, along with gloves and feet strewn about.
“I hate this,” Jun stated, looking around the room. 
“I know these things are empty, but looking into their empty eyes is somehow worse,” Jihoon mumbled, staring at an Eight head.
At the opposite end of the tiny room in the right corner was another metal door. You were starting to wonder how many more metal doors you’d have to encounter in this place.
To the left of the room, there was a tiny wooden door that seemed like it would lead to a crawlspace. You assumed there was just more storage back there, but nobody cared enough to look back there, anyway. The focus was to get out of this place and get to safety.
“C’mon,” you nodded your head toward the other metal door that you assumed would lead to the exit, “let’s keep going.”
As Seungcheol went for the door, you and your friends heard banging. You all paused, Seungcheol’s hand on the handle. You listened for the banging again, and then looked to where it seemed to be coming from.
“Guys?” Joshua’s voice called from behind the small wooden door. “Guys?! Oh my god, guys! C-can you hear me? Hello?! Help me!”
“Josh?” Jeonghan took a step toward the door.
[TO HELP JOSHUA GO TO 21 -- A]
[TO CONTINUE TO THE EXIT GO TO 21 -- B]
»»————-  ————-««
21 -- A
“Joshua!” you cried as you ran to the small door.
You knew what your eyes saw, but was it possible none of it was real? How else would you be hearing Joshua’s voice? He must’ve been alive somehow. Anything seemed possible at this point.
You got down on your knees, opened the small door, and crawled your way through. You stood up as your friends tried to get in behind you, but what you saw made your heart fall into your stomach as your hands went to cover your mouth, muffling the loud sob that came out.
Joshua’s body was slumped against the left wall, looking just as you had remembered.
He was still dead.
Your friends had similar reactions to you. Seokmin even threw up. 
Seungcheol shook his head slowly, eyes full of tears while some streaked his cheeks, “We... W-we have to bring his body...”
“He’s right,” Jihoon said solemnly -- his body seemed to be shutting down now, almost uncapable of processing his emotions. “We need evidence of what happened tonight. Nobody will believe us otherwise.”
“I-I hate to say it, b-but...it’ll s-slow us down, though,” Wonwoo interjected through his sniffles. “What if we don’t make it out?”
[TO TAKE JOSHUA’S BODY WITH YOU GO TO 22 -- A]
[TO LEAVE WITHOUT JOSHUA’S BODY GO TO 22 -- B]
»»————-  ————-««
21 -- B
You quickly reached out and grabbed Jeonghan to keep him from going any closer to that door. He turned to look at you, a pained expression on his face.
“Jeonghan, that’s not Joshua,” you told him. “You saw what happened to him. Whatever it is, it’s not him.”
“I think _____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “We need to keep going.”
You kept your hold on Jeonghan as all of your began filing out of the mascot room into another narrow corridor like the other one. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.
But this door didn’t budge.
Soonyoung was at the head of the group, and he groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”
You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...
...Or maybe it was closer and closer.
Junhui walked down the way you’d come and poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. He whipped his head back around and booked it straight back to where your group was trying to open the door, calling, “You might wanna hurry up on that door!”
Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.
“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”
Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.
“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”
“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”
“There’s fou-- thirteen of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”
“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.
[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]
[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]
[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]
»»————-  ————-««
22 -- A
“We can’t just leave him here,” you stated. “Not only for the evidence, but because he doesn’t deserve to rot away here. His family doesn’t deserve to wonder what happened to him.”
“I’ll grab him,” Seungcheol offered, swallowing his fears and stepping forward to scoop up his friend. “Let’s get him home.”
Chan was the last into the tiny room, so he turned to go. But the wooden door was suddenly closed and wouldn’t open back up.
“What the hell?!” he grunted as he continued to try the door.
“Why’d you let it close, dumbass?!” Jeonghan demanded.
“I didn’t!” Chan shouted back. “It was just open!”
“Ugh, leave it to the fucking baby to--”
“G-guys?” Seokmin asked.
“Can you get off my fucking case?!” Chan huffed as he stood up and went to stand toe-to-toe with Jeonghan. “You’re always such a fucking asshole to me! Why can’t you--”
“Guys?” Seokmin tried again, looking between the left and right walls.
“Are you two really going to argue right now?” Jihoon groaned. “We’re literally--”
“Guys!” Seokmin finally shouted over everyone. “The walls!”
“What about the--”
Jihoon’s question died down as soon as all of you began looking at the walls. They were moving in toward each other, which would crush all of you between them.
Everyone was suddenly in a panic. Everyone was throwing themselves at the door, trying to tug it open before the walls could do anything. Some of you -- such as you and Wonwoo -- decided to spread out so you had more room. But some -- like Jeonghan and Chan, who grouped up by the door with a few others -- created a big human-lump that would be crushed faster. You heard their cries and pleas before they were crushed to death with a sound you couldn’t get out of your ears.
It was only a moment later you met the same fate.
[GO TO ENDING B]
»»————-  ————-««
22 -- B
"Nobody wants to be the asshole that says it’s better to leave him behind, but...” you trailed off.
Wonwoo was right. Joshua would more than likely slow you down. Besides, you knew Josh would want all of you to have the best chance of getting out alive as possible.
“Th-then you go ahead,” Seokmin spoke up, almost like he was afraid to.
“What?” Jihoon asked.
“I...” Seokmin looked at Joshua as more tears welled in his eyes. “It makes me sad to think he’d just be down here alone. I don’t care if he’s...gone. He can’t just stay down here.”
“I’m not leaving my best friend down here,” Jeonghan agreed.
“Seokmin, he’s--”
“Look, just go,” Hansol interrupted whatever Jihoon was going to say. “I’ll help them with the body. You guys just go on ahead.”
Minus the three who wanted to collect Joshua’s body, the group turned and left the small room and went back to the mascot room. Soonyoung tugged on the metal door and led the way down another corridor that looked exactly the same as the one that had led into the mascot room. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.
But as you were walking down the hallway, you heard the yells and screams of your three friends. All of you turned on a dime and ran back toward the mascot room but the metal door was already closed and wouldn’t re-open for some reason. All of you were yelling and trying to open the door until you heard a sickening crunch, and then silence.
You all fell silent. You didn’t know what to do now.
“We--” Jihoon’s voice cracked so he cleared his throat. “We should just...keep going...”
Following behind Jihoon, you all turned one by one and went back down the hallway. You turned the corner and walked down that long hallway toward another metal door.
But this door didn’t budge.
Jihoon groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”
You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...
...Or maybe it was closer and closer.
Junhui walked down the way you’d come and poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. He whipped his head back around and booked it straight back to where your group was trying to open the door, calling, “You might wanna hurry up on that door!”
Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.
“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”
Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.
“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”
“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”
“There’s fou-- nine of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”
“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.
[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]
[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]
[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]
»»————-  ————-««
23 -- A
“Mingyu, keep trying the door!” you called to him. “We’ll try to hold them back.”
“We?!” Seungkwan repeated.
Mingyu continued to try to pull the door open as the animatronics slowly turned the corner and began walking toward the nine of you. You weren’t sure how to prepare yourself for this at all, but you knew you couldn’t just turn your back and die.
But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against eight fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.
Well, not you specifically.
Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward Mingyu, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.
That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.
“I got the--!”
Mingyu’s exclamation of finally getting the door open was cut off by Bongbong’s arm swinging out and clotheslining him into the wall and cutting off his oxygen. 
The attack that was meant for you, but you had ducked underneath.
The light flooded into the corridor, and just like that, the animatronics just shut down. The light turned off in their eyes, and they were frozen with their hands reaching out for you.
Except Bongbong’s arm that was now frozen in place, keeping Mingyu strangled against the wall. 
You could hear Mingyu gasping for air as you slowly opened your eyes that you’d squeezed shut when you ducked. You looked up and saw the animatronics were lifeless now, and then you shot up and turned to try to help Mingyu. You pulled and pulled on Bongbong’s arm while you had to watch Mingyu slowly die. It was like watching a movie in slow motion, the way his body went limp and the life drained from his eyes. Still, you stood there and sobbed and told him you’d free him as you continued to pull uselessly at the animatronic.
When it finally set in that you didn’t stand a chance, you ran out the back parking lot where the door opened to. You ran out of the park and to your car -- which was still parked near the other 3 that belonged to your friends that were no longer with you -- and drove off toward home with tears still streaming down your face.
The clock on your car radio said 6:08am.
[GO TO ENDING A]
»»————-  ————-««
23 -- B
“The door’s useless!” you cried. “We’re not going to just turn our backs and die. That’s not how I wanna go out.”
Nobody had any faith, but they knew you were right. Laying down and dying after all of this wasn’t worth it. If you died, at least you would die fighting.
But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against nine fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.
Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward the door that wouldn’t open, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.
That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.
[GO TO ENDING B]
»»————-  ————-««
23 -- C
“The door will work!” you swore “Like the basement, remember? Just keep trying!”
Sure, this was different in the way that you had to pull and not push, but it had to give eventually, right?
You continued to face the animatronics that were now starting to close in on all of you. Seungcheol tried to squeeze in besided Mingyu, grabbing the handle and pulling with him. Jihoon crawled between Mingyu’s legs and stood in between the taller boy’s arms, both of his hands wrapped around the handle and tugging with everything he had.
You moved to put yourself in front of your friends. You got all of them into this mess, so you deserved to be the first to die.
As Bongbong closed in on you, you closed your eyes.
“_____--!”
The darkness you saw behind your eyelids suddenly seemed brighter, and you felt a gust of wind from behind you.
There was a couple seconds of silence.
“Holy shit,” Minghao breathed.
You opened one eye just enough to see Bongbong’s face just inches from yours. But...why were the lights in its eyes off?
You opened your eye wider. Then the other one. Its arm was only a hair away from you, but it made no move to actually touch you. There was also light flooding into the corridor from behind you. You whipped your head around to see the door was open, and you looked back at four animatronics. Were they off now?
“Oh my god,” you sighed in a shaky voice, taking a step backward toward the door.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Wonwoo said as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you out the door.
The door opened to the back of the parking lot. All of you ran as fast as you could toward your cars, only stopping at the hood of the closest one to catch your breath. Seungcheol pulled out his phone.
“It’s 6am,” he reported.
“Maybe that’s why the door didn’t open,” Wonwoo panted, hands on his knees.
“I don’t care to speculate,” Jihoon said as he went to get into one of the four cars. “Take me the fuck home.”
[GO TO ENDING C]
»»————-  ————-««
ENDING A 
You weren’t sure what to do about the texts from the group chat when you got home. You swore everyone was dead. You watched them die in front of you.
Soonyoung said he was tripping balls the whole night.
Jeonghan agreed, saying he was sure there was something in the air making them hallucinate.
Even Jihoon was saying something weird had happened that night, because he thought he saw everyone die.
So...maybe they were right?
But when you inevitably went to school Halloween day, something didn’t seem right. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you. 
Maybe it was from how emotionally and mentally drained you were, and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, but you swore there was an odd glow to their eyes that wasn’t just the glimmer of the florescents.
And why did Junhui wink at you?
[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]
»»————-  ————-««
ENDING B
Get dressed.
Brush your teeth.
Brush your hair.
Go downstairs and converse with your parents.
Drive to school.
Say hello to your friends.
Laugh at what Soonyoung said.
Promise to walk to class with Seokmin and Seungcheol after you go to the bathroom.
Go into the bathroom.
Use the mirror to fix your outfit.
Use your fingers to brush through your hair one more time.
A light reflects off the mirror.
You are the only one in the bathroom.
[NONE OF YOU ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND BUT SOMETHING ELSE DID]
»»————-  ————-««
ENDING C
(NOTE: i know some people might’ve only had josh die while other had more people die. so this part will mention multiple people who didn’t make it home but i will only mention josh by name. sorry if it seems kind of confusing)
You didn’t even want to go back home after everything that happened. But you needed to shower and change, so you dropped your friends off before going home. After getting out of the shower, you checked your phone. Your heart dropped and your stomach was doing flips at what it saw.
One series of texts was from a group chat that was all of the people you were positive made it home from Caratland. All of them were wondering what the fuck was going on.
The other was the original group chat, with a text from Joshua asking if everyone made it home okay. It made a shiver go down your spine. How could he be texting? He died.
Those that had died started having a conversation about hallucinating, insisting something weird must’ve been in the air to make everyone trip and see things that didn’t actually happen. Nobody knew if it was possible. Minghao suggested that at this point, anything was possible. But still, why did all of you have the same hallucination?
The group decided it was best to ignore the message.
When Wonwoo offered to give you a ride to school, you said yes.
The two of you walked to homeroom together and saw the usual group of your friends sitting at the left side of the classroom. But seeing the friends you thought had died now just sitting there like nothing happened made your skin crawl. You wanted to turn around and walk out.
Wonwoo squeezed your hand and continued forward.
You sat and chatted with the group, and everyone seemed to be dancing around the fact that things were...weird. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you.
Maybe it was from how emotionally and mentally drained you were, and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, but you swore there was an odd glow to their eyes that wasn’t just the glimmer of the fluorescents.
And why did Joshua wink at you?
[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]
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thepavementsings · 2 years
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i am also desperate for more charles/pierre and lando/carlos fic so if YOU have any recs.... pls drop them!!
Hello Anon! Thank you for this ask because I do not write fic but I DO read them. This got so long so I will start with Pierre/Charles and please send me another ask and I will do Carlando under that I provide for you you provide for me MWAH.
This is NOT extensive but some of my favourites here. If any of you have recs not on here PLEASE either send me an ask or send me a message either! Ofc if anyone wants theirs taken off the list please lmk
None of this will be coherent sorry in advance but Under the Cut:
Listen. These first two. I know you’ve read these. But it gives me a chance to gush about them here. Read them. Read them again. Comment on them. Anyways, Bye.
Indentation in the shape of you by @baking-soda
There is zero chance you follow this blog for whatever reason and you have not read this fic. The most beautiful aching story about love and trust and trauma and Pierre as a p*ssy monster on full display. Am I supposed to try and sell you on these in this fic rec? We should literally be paying to read this but dr. Baking-soda is too gracious.
Your dream and your teeth by @yekoc
I think this is the Pierre/Charles fic I’ve read the most? It’s insanely sexy and it’s a really fascinating look at how love is about understanding and compromise and acceptance. The characterizations in this are everything to me, and I think it subverts some of the typical expectations for their dynamic in a way that is really interesting and fresh and impeccably done. Friends to lovers done right.
I started this and then realized it’s gonna be me telling you to read all of Yekoc’s fics on Pierre/Charles so the next 3 are one run-on sentence for each of the others you're welcome:
Careful Design - when I tell you I am the most OTP bitch to ever OTP bitch but this is Seb/Charles/Pierre ENDGAME Pierre/Charles and I will never read a triple pairing again because nothing will ever live up to this.
The Pull of You - PHONE SEX. but it’s complex and layered and it makes you THINK about every line you have to read it at least 3 times to get all the genius little things packed into 3K
The Bells That Can Still Ring - The newest masterpiece it is Post-WW1 AU, it is everything, as a reader you care so much about both of their journeys please go read it and comment on it because I actually can’t even form a coherent sentence about this one I cry everytime I try
This is New by @radiocheck
I…. love this story. The tension of ‘will they won’t they’ throughout is just enough to be satiated in the chapter but keep you on your toes for what is inevitably coming later. I also think this is my favourite fic that highlights the real friendship that is at the heart of these two. It made me smile so much.
Did You Know? by Kiwialicat
This is a gorgeous take on how trauma and love coincide in a relationship. It does mention the death of real life people so please heed the tags, but it’s really to me about kindness and care.
raspberry spring, iris heaven by distressedgremlin
An older one but so so good. They’re on vacation and Charles wears dresses and it makes you feel raw with it. It’s vulnerability and knowing someone and being known and it's gorgeous.
If I were proper, I’d have a chance: not with you but with somebody else by ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)
A/B/O Sauber!Charles. I rarely recc A/B/O because I am very specific with the way I enjoy it written. It took writers I really trust delving into it for me to start even opening it as a tag. but this is a fun one, it’s really sweet, and I think it’s a fun exploration of a more youthful version of their characters
Your little ribs around me by Anon
Firstly this is my favourite title for a Pierre/Charles fic ever because it feels so much like them? I dont know how to explain it but the familiarity and protectiveness but the slight constriction of it feels very fitting. Anyways. The fic itself is also just. The intimacy and the character depth and the emotional history that is packed into just under 2k of writing is incredibly impressive.
Stars grew pale by poolside
Monza-versary blindfolds. That should be enough for you to read this. The familiarity between the two of them, how Charles is so observant that it makes the reader more observant, even with blindfolds. Really just a smart and enjoyable fic. Read all of poolside’s fics for Pierre/Charles basically but this is my favourite :)
darkest little paradise by @restacks
Post Monza 2020 blow job. It’s hot and it’s needy and a little desperate. I love how each of them give and take what they need in it. This Charles is also so interesting.
leave everything unsaid by withfeathers
this one is a really beautiful look into their relationship with grief, both individually and for each other. It also features Pierre’s fingers in Charles’ mouth which is my favourite visual for them in all fic, but particularly in a non-sexual context. 
ADDED 
Of Mute Swans and Nests by @pierregasiy
Ballet AU!! This is my COMFORT FIC and I know it is many others’ too. I did ballet as a kid and the AU here is so richly curated and nostalgic to me. The attention to detail, the way the characters are have so clearly carved out their own spaces in this world, the development of this pack of kind of misfits that you so badly want to root for, UGH. MWah. Even though it deals with a lot of angst it’s also FUNNY. The slow burn is rewarding because it doesn’t get too bogged down by it’s own circumstances, which is really refreshing. Thank god it is back up so you all can read it and go write nice comments. 
There’s more I KNOW i’m missing, also some that are currently out on a little break but when they are brought back WILL be added to this. And to all the fic authors, thank you thank you. This is my favourite f1 pairing and everytime I see a new wonderful story with them it makes me feel so grateful. Happy reading everyone :)
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