#discourse on spice I suppose

[holy-mother-of-whumpers]

I agree with both... The animatics are spicy, but because of ✨connotations✨ maybe we should call them flavored.

The flavour, for me, being that it's very close and personal. Poseidon bullying Odysseus, Zeus manhandling him, Circe maneuvering him through her legs there is a lot of contact. That's juicy to me 👀😏 still, not overtly or meant to be suggestive.

The fact that most animatics have a setting, aren't happening in the general void many animatics live in (not a negative comparison, if an animatic is trying to give a more ephemeral/emotional effect, removing the setting is a good move) make them somewhat more grounded - and touchable, as the characters often touch each other (like the blood pouring on Eurylochus head: that feels thick).

It's like your animatics are apples while many others are citrus fruits: you can bite into them - again, not against citruses, I don't go peeling an orange if I want to chew and I don't drink apple juice because I HATE IT WITH BURNING PASSION AND THEY SNEAK at least 20% IN ALL THE OTHER MIX OF JUICES AHHHH (why is there apple in my red berries juice huh? Huh???) wait I lost the metaphor, sorry.

I appreciate the orange for its acidity and the apple because I munch happily, but I don't think the apple should be more acidic or that the orange should be more munchable. Me praising the apple is not a shade to the orange.

Back to the point.

Everything is very solid (love the darker outlines for things), I'd even say yours are one of the most 3D-like 2D animatics around/pos.

Also you have a focus on the expressions that make them very raw, like even their feelings are close and personal for us to witness (and bite into, crunchy ehe).

Other also, the use of color is really spicy because it's just a bit here and there like spices are usually just a pinch and enough to make the whole dish more flavored for it! Like Circe and Poseidon's eyes, or when Penelope walks into the hall with the suitors and the background turns danger-red.

I don't think Aphrodite is sexualized, she's so chill with her body she could hang out with Hestia and Athena and none of them would have a problem (Aphrodite is always wearing her charm and to the virgin goddesses the body is but natural), and Circe's seduction is all about power and control, not sexy times.

So yeah, the spice is def there, but it's not necessarily sexy-spice, it's more flavor-spice. I can see people faced with something so solid, raw and touchable and wanting to touch it.

This not to excuse in the least those who harassed you or I heard turned your animatics into bad stuff. Screw them (throwing Aphrodite's dove in their faces like those old memes of cats with cheese slices) praised be your brother with the power of the calculator ahahah

So: spicy but not sexualized; in the way an asexual can be sexy in looks and personality (and write smut) but still uninterested in that aspect for all other intended purposes (I should know).

Just letting you know i LOVE all your Epic animatics 🙏🙏

The extra spice you unapologetically put in some of them makes them stand out more to me and for that they're among my favorites

Hehe thank you! I wouldn't say its extra spicy just cuz I depict nudity more, I mean the tone would be just the same if Circe had clothes on or not. And for Aphrodite's pose she does, it would be still "spicy" even if she had clothing, the dove joke wouldn't land tho... 😅

[brownwomanisland]

Thoughts on Harry Potter book series - 11 paragraphs

So I read the entire Harry Potter series from the Philosopher's Stone to the Deathly Hallows and I have some thoughts. I went in there for a few reasons: familiar subject to help me get back into reading, filling in gaps I had from only watching the movies, and to find out if some of the discourse I've seen online is accurate.

First, I'm so happy to have read the books. It was really fun to compare what I remember from the movies to the books and often times I understood the screenwriter's decisions to remove some elements or spice it up. I won't go into specifics right now but I think the movies captured the essence of the books - different to the nitty gritty details - well. I'd rate the entire book series an 8/10 to be honest.

Secondly, a lot of what I've read on people's views about the books and characters seem to be projection of their dislike of the author onto the characters tbh. I went in trying to find out if Hermione was misogynistic or a self-insert of JKR or if her S.P.E.W element was white saviourism or if goblins were supposed to represent Jewish folks and.... none of that really passes the canon test to be honest.

Hermione is an insufferable know it all but she's loyal and caring and does her best but she likes being right and it's easy to find her annoying sometimes. Her and Ginny's dislike of Fleur don't scream misogyny as much as it did jealousy. I don't know much about JKR the individual to see any self-insert but Hermione was consistent as a character. I still love her and her annoying ways <3. In the Goblet of Fire when Ron is being nasty about some girl's looks, she says that she has a nice personality and that her acne isn't even bad anymore. She encouraged Ginny to go date other people so she would stop being so freaked out about Harry. She loves being right so she lacks tact but she's always advocated for people to be treated fairly.

With regards to S.P.E.W., she is an imperfect activist as any 13 year old would be but I do not think it fair to consider her a white saviour. Hermione doesn't get enough flack for that jinx on the Dumbledore army that scarred Marietta - her one anti girl's girl move but to be fair, she didn't know it would be a girl who would tell on them. Otherwise, it's through her and at times Hagrid's and Lupin's eyes that we learn the Wizarding world is very prejudiced, even non pureblood frenzy people like our next main character - Ron.

Ron is unsympathetic to most magical creatures to the point where I found myself irritated at times because he's generally well-meaning but insensitive and mostly insecure as a character. He won't call anyone a Mudblood but he's ready to separate himself from the likes of werewolves, giants, goblins. I bet if he never met Hermione, he would be among the Wizarding folk that aren't blood supremacist but who don't care or think much of the well-being of other magical creatures beyond daily usage and comfortability.

With regards to the goblins and Jewish people slant, I don't see it. I understand as an adult that there are stereotypes alluded to each religion - some of which are very well earned (e.g. religious fundamentalists are prone to extremism) - but I can't see this particular point as anything but a massive tell and self-own. I didn't like Griphook as a character nor the goblins' logic of anything goblin made is always theirs even if you paid for it and they expect you to keep paying for it as long as the original purchaser is dead (like what? Don't be greedy). Call me ignorant but goblins are a mythical creature here and that's it. The centaurs are also an annoying group but they also echo the sentiment the goblin's shared about not being like humans and not sharing the same values.

Onto Harry now, he is ... nice if dislikeable at times but in the way I find Hermione dislikeable. The movie cuts out a few things that would make audiences less sympathetic to him but ultimately he is a likeable person with flaws. Every character in the book has flaws. Aside, fuck Snape. Harry should have named his pet that, not his son.

So imagine I go into the series trying to find proof of JKR's racism and misogyny and antisemitism and I come out with a story that I think talks about all of those things in the way a story written through the eyes of a male orphaned teenage boy can. If the story were as bad as people who hate the author think, it would never have so much merch and spin-offs and adaptations, and versions, and theme parks. Sure, some people can be annoying (dramione shippers, book snape lovers, people who hate marauders fans, marauders shippers, people who write racist rape fics) but the story is alive and well done. Some elements might be awkward and some characters may feel sidelined but there's a lot of room to add meat but there's also a WORLD to play in.

The elements I think were handled awkwardly were the shoehorning of Lupin and Tonks - I wish we got more of them. I actually wish we got more of Andromeda as well - I can see why she's a fanfic favourite - someone who can easily be mistaken for Bellatrix but seems to be her total opposite but also her baby sister? - that's ripe for fanon. Personally I wanted Draco Malfoy dead - avada kedavra that racist.

I can't stand Dumbledore. He's imperfect and a little more than manipulative. We learn that Severus is the reason Potter's family is dead and that was never Dumbledore's secret to keep from Harry especially with the way Snape terrorized children. He let that man bully the child and did nothing about it except chastise Harry everytime he said Snape instead of Professor Snape. Dumbledore keeps his and other's secrets and plays everyone like a chessboard instead of speaking openly to them as equals. Fuck him and his eye twinkle lol.

Snape was a coward and honestly the only person fit to write a book on him is also Rita Skeeter. He was a pureblood supremacist for most of his life, he bullied children, he bullied the child he's partly responsible for making an orphan (who he had no intentions of ever hiding with Lily's husband). If any character was a shoehorn, I think it was Snape. That chapter was not a redemption arc as some people say. He was not an anti hero so much as a reluctant spy because his "all mudbloods must die" leader of the "all mudbloods must die" club he WILLINGLY joined killed his favourite mudblood lol. Fuck that man. If anything, Snape was given a ... curve to keep Alan Rickman on the series because book Snape is so fucking tedious but Alan Rickman as Snape was glorious - I liked his sassiness.

Now I think of some fanfics I've read with some author notes I've read and I think - that's projection, that's fanon, that never happened, why are you writing racist porn? But now I see the inspiration for Dark Harmione fics (as long as there's no rape and incest) because honestly, she has a bit of a mean streak canonically (but I support women's wrongs sometimes).

[rivendellwatch]

[Spice Week: Boundaries ≠ Prudery]

(Because sadly, people cannot be f*cking decent anymore)

⚠️ Content Note / TW: Mentions of non-con, abuse, SA, and fandom discourse ⚠️

This post discusses why themes such as rape, non-consensual acts, and abuse are not welcome in this event. It also responds to some… colorful feedback I received through the event form, and offers some clarification around boundaries, BDSM, kink, and tagging culture in fandom.

Babes, consider this a small rant cause I just have to reply to this gem I received in one of the forms-

First of all: the fact that someone genuinely thought it was appropriate—or even remotely mature—to crawl into a feedback form (you know, the kind meant for thoughtful, constructive event participation) and spit out that little gem of bile just because I drew a clear, respectful boundary against content like rape, abuse, and non-con… it’s genuinely mindblowing. I mean… really? We’re not in middle school anymore.

Calling someone a "prude" for saying “hey, maybe let’s not center sexual violence during a fandom event that's supposed to be spicy, fun, and enjoyable for the majority of people filling this out” isn’t some big intellectual mic drop. It’s not edgy. It’s not rebellious. It’s just pathetic. It’s the fandom equivalent of angrily knocking over a Jenga tower because you lost one turn.

You know what’s really wild? This wasn’t even an open comment box.

Anon asks are still very much closed.

They had to go find the form, read the rules I laid out, and still go “you know what? I’m going to call her a prude and then throw a tantrum, and say no one will join her stupid event because I cannot write what I want.” Like okay, sorry Netflix didn’t pick up your pilot script for Law & Order: SVU—but make it horny. Maybe next time?

Also—and I cannot stress this enough—me not wanting rape/abuse/non-con in a community event isn’t an attack on your kinks, your freedom of expression, or your 400k tragic dubcon elf fic. It’s literally just me saying: “some things are not welcome in this space for the safety and comfort of participants.” If that enrages you? I beg you to talk to a houseplant, do some breathing exercises, or consult a licensed professional.

Because if you think calling someone a “prude” for protecting survivors, drawing boundaries, and setting community standards is a zinger… babes. The only thing you’re swinging is a damp sock full of sand.

You wanna write that content? You can! Tag it properly! Find an event made for it! Throw a rave in the non-con tag if you like! But this event? This is not the dungeon you're looking for. This is my digital living room and I’ve vacuumed and put out snacks, and you’re trying to piss on my carpet because you didn’t see a whip in the decor.

“Don’t come crying when no one joins your stupid event”—ohhh okay, thank you Nostradamus! 😭😭 Truly, how would I have ever survived without this anonymous prophecy from the Oracle of Bitterness dot com?

Like people haven’t already dmed me asking for the dates because they want to join, filled the form with kind words, expressed gratitude for having a space where they can actually breathe and write without fearing they’ll trip over yet another trauma minefield. The sheer delusion of thinking I’ll shed even one single solitary tear because you personally can’t write about violence and coercion under a pastel banner that says “spice week” with a cartoon heart?? Babe. Be serious.

I’m hosting a community event.

One where people can enjoy sexy, dramatic, angsty, spicy stories without having to read through emotional landmines. And if your first reaction to not being able to write abuse and non-con for this event is “WELL NO ONE’S GONNA JOIN THEN”—dude. That’s not the mic drop you think it is. That’s you basically saying, “I can’t function creatively unless I include something non-consensual and I think everyone works like that so I'm gonna insult you to show you you're wrong, since you don't allow it in this optional event.”

Do you hear yourself?

Also? I’m not doing this for numbers. I’m not playing the fandom popularity game, I’m not tallying RSVPs like a clout-hungry cryptid. I’m doing this for the writers, artists and readers—especially the survivors, the ones who messaged me privately and in GC to say thank you, the ones who feel seen, the ones who’ve been burned before by content labeled “spicy” that left them shaken instead because yes, sure, some people tag correctly but not everyone.

I’d rather have ten people join and feel safe, respected, and excited, than a hundred who think consent is just a suggestion.

So no. I will not be crying. Not when I have a google doc full of enthusiasm, a schedule full of genuinely thoughtful creators, and so on.

But thank you for your concern, Weather Channel. I’ll be sure to wear my raincoat on the day nobody joins.

And let’s talk about the word “prude.” The way that dusty little insult got yanked out of a mothball-filled hope chest like we’re living in a 1950s sitcom and I just scandalized the town by showing ankle at a high school dance (*gasps in French*). Like girl, be serious.

“Prude”? In the year 2025? Because I had the lion, the witch and the audacity of a bitch—to set clear boundaries around an event I’m voluntarily organizing, in my own free time, for free? That’s what you landed on?

You wanna know what’s actually bold in this day and age? It’s not pretending you're edgy because you write dubcon in lowercase italics and slap a shrug emoji on it. It’s choosing boundaries. Choosing safety. Choosing to say, “Hey, let’s maybe make sure no one logs on and gets slapped in the face with a trauma trigger disguised as ‘haha silly smut week’.” THAT takes guts. That takes a spine (something you should normally, have but since you came as anon to spill bile, I guess yours isn't really doing her job).

That takes community care, not a superiority complex.

And you wanna call me a prude? Me, a person who has survived real abuse and SA—who has had to fight like hell just to feel safe in fandom spaces again—and now wants to create a space where others don’t have to go through that same minefield of "well it's just fiction, lol" excuses?

You want to call that prudish?

That’s not just offensive. That’s wild. That’s the level of bad take where the smoke alarm should’ve gone off before you even hit submit. It’s dehumanizing. It’s invalidating. And above all, it’s painfully, hilariously revealing—because if someone’s first reaction to a space with clear consent policies is “you must be a prude,” then I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’ve told on yourself louder than any warning tag ever could.

This isn’t about prudishness. It’s about respect. Respect for creators. Respect for readers. Respect for survivors. Respect for myself.

Let’s be very clear: 👉 Not allowing rape, abuse, or non-con ≠ prudishness. 👉 It means I actually give a damn about people feeling safe. 👉 It means I care about the survivors in fandom. 👉 It means I’m not gonna risk people being hurt just for "numbers/engagement in said event".

If that makes me a "prude" in your eyes? Good. I’ll wear it like a shiny little badge.

Look—if you love writing dark fic, non-con, dubcon, abuse-centric dynamics, or deeply complicated content for whatever reason (whether it’s cathartic, personal, narrative-focused, or just your jam)… then genuinely, go off! Do you! There’s absolutely a space for that in fandom, and there are countless readers and writers who engage with that content mindfully and responsibly. You know what would be amazing? Host your own event!

There are many people who would absolutely join you in that, and you could build a space that fits your needs and tastes beautifully. No one is stopping you. Because you deserve a space that suits you, just like I’m trying to make one that suits me and the people who expressed that they wanted this kind of vibe.

What’s wild is that some people who filled out the form literally said, “Hey, this event probably isn’t for me—but no hard feelings, I wish you luck!” and then just… left. Like functional, emotionally regulated adults. And I loved that! That’s normal. That’s healthy.

Not every event is for everyone—and that’s the point of having different events!

You don’t crash a themed party just to complain that the theme you like doesn't exist in said party.

This isn’t about kinkshaming. This isn’t about labeling people as "bad" or "wrong" for what they write. It’s about boundaries. Clarity. It’s about an event—a specific, time-limited themed space—that has a particular tone and audience. That’s it. That’s all.

No one is being persecuted. No one’s AO3 account is on fire.

These are optional rules for an optional event that literally no one is being forced to join. It is free. It is for fun. It is a sandbox I’m building because I care about curating a space that feels safe and warm for a specific group of folks who want to show up and vibe together without having to brace themselves for untagged trauma bombs or power dynamics that make them flinch.

So if that ain’t your scene? That’s okay. Honestly, truly. Just don’t try to rip down the vibe for the rest of us who do want it. That’s not rebellion, that’s just being the kid who yells during storytime because they’re mad it’s not about them.

Ending note: Also, if any other bright lightbulbs of rage are thinking about dropping their hot takes into my form to “put me in my place”—just a heads up: I do collect email addresses for each response, thanks to the form settings, from now on. So! By all means, be bold. Make my inbox sparkle with your tantrum. I’ll know exactly who to thank.

[nicromancytarot]

Hello boys, I recently saw some discourse on some reading choices that people have been posting, and one of those things that came up were to do with celebrity crushes, all while I have entertained the idea of creating fun little pick a cards on celebrity crushes, I would like to say that readings are based on where you are now, so it’s not a “will you date your celebrity crush?” Period, its a “from where you are going right now, could you have the chance of dating your celebrity crush?” As when we do readings, free will always comes into play.

I will never entertain such things as “will your celebrity crush fuck you?” or anything like that, my fame pick a cards are just things that I find fun to do, I personally really enjoy the intricacies of fame and popularity, so making pick a cards about those are just interesting to me.

My pick a cards are absolutely not to be used to fuel any delusions or parasocial behaviour, again, they are strictly for fun and entertainment purposes.

Even if you picked a pile that gave you a yes on your celebrity crush, you’re probably not going to due to free will and all that stuff, they’re just there for fun and spice.

When you read a pick a card from me, take it with a grain of salt, there’s no need to get upset or rude about the answers that you receive, I do this for fun man, I’m not charging anything as of right now so calm your horses.

As of right now, I have two more celebrity crush pick a card ideas, if these seem to inappropriate, I am totally fine to be told so, however I personally do not see the issue.

- Will you meet your celebrity crush?

- What will your celebrity crush think of you?

Neither of these are to be used to entertain any parasocial mindsets, again they are only for fun!

When it comes to my “Fame” section, it is mainly focusing on what you can do to become famous, how can you manage fame etc, it’s for those few people who are really trying to achieve fame, and grow in that industry. The celebrity crush parts are just for fun, not supposed to be taken as a serious thing.

I have a very diverse amount of readings, I like to really think about everything, I also take a lot of inspiration from my favourite youtube Tarot readers. BUT CELEBRITY CRUSH READINGS ARE PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT (wasn’t aware people were taking them seriously, my bad lmao)

PERSONAL READINGS

When it comes down to personal readings, it unfortunately seems like I have to say it again, as of right now, I am not doing any personal readings, I do not think I have achieved the amount of respect that I deserve when doing these, I had people demanding, not following or interacting with my posts, and just being straight up rude and entitled.

You are not entitled to a reading from me.

As for exchange readings, I am quick to do readings, and I am even quicker to type them up, so you will probably receive your reading from me first. If you do, for the love of God, give me my reading too lmao, I am so tired of giving people readings after they ask for an exchange, but then not receiving one back, like what do you gain from that?

Also! I love the concept of shifting realities, I personally myself have been trying to shift for three years (I try like twice a year #real) So I was wondering if anyone else is into shifting, and if you’d like some shifting themed readings!! I personally think it’s genius. It would entertain concepts such as

-What can you do to help you in your shifting journey?

-What method is best for you?

-What would your shifting S/O think about you?

etc etc, very fun, so give me your opinions lads.

To wrap up my way too long rant, my readings are not law, I am a human being, I am not a machine, I have two arms and ten fingers, CELEBRITY CRUSH READINGS ARE NOT TO FUEL YOU PARASOCIAL MFS RAHHHHHH

They’re just for a little bit of fun 🤏

[olderthannetfic]

This whole f/f wank is so ridiculous. Every time it comes up I’m always left confused and wondering what’s the end goal of the discourse? Because it’s not women writing more f/f for sure. Policing and moralising about what other women like and do in their free time doesn’t seem like a decent strategy whatsoever. It’s not surprising that people don’t want to associate with these types of spaces. I'd defintely feel too paranoid and on edge to fit into all the moral demands.

I think the fact that there needs to be a justifiable reason for the lack of f/f outside of people’s personal preferences, the way people talk about m/m shippers as dirty fetishists, the women on booktok being called porn addicts for enjoying “spice” sometimes, the women that enjoy het ships that aren’t sunshine and rainbows only (e.g. reylo, zutara, darmione, sasusaku, etc.) being called abuse apologists, the way younger fans talk about older women participating in fandom (I could go on) kind of proves that fandom does hold some disdain for women and queer people. Which is very ironic. I guess my point is that this preexisting disdain and the perceived injustice about the supposed lack of f/f seems like a good moral justification to demand that other people make you things because you’re too lazy or not skilled enough to make them yourself. Women and queer people just happen to be an easy target for that.

It’s kind of like a new version of not like other girls where just being shitty to other women is not acceptable anymore so people look for moral justifications for it. Be it preferring m/m over f/f or f/m, enjoying the wrong smut, “supporting abuse”, etc.

English is not my first language so I hope this was understandable to read 😅

--

Well... some of it is just kvetching, and that never has an end goal other than venting one's feelings.

[emblemxeno]

Man I hate the fire emblem fanbase so much it is hurting my enjoyment of the games. They can nitpick every little thing about Engage's and Fate's story, but watch out if you point out that Edelgard blaming the church for her experimentstion and not, y'know, her uncle who she KNOWS is an Arganthan, or how it doesn't make sense that the disappearance of 9 royals was swept snugly under the rug in the empire, or how Jeralt was suspsicious of Rheas doing to Byleth what she did to HIM, and suddenly you're a "hater" and "you have bad taste" and " lack media literacy".

3houses has the same storytelling issues Fates and Engage have, but bc the game has big tiddy lesbians and "I can fix them" traumatized characters = best JRPG since FF7. Fuck right off bruh. I'm so tired.

It does lend a lot of chances to be hypocritical in the fandom yes.

For as much as people can hate about Engage's time travel and magic stuff, or anything regarding Valla in Fates, at least those are purely fantastical. Does it erase the problems? No. But "magic world has magic things that don't need to always be explained in great detail" is-or at least should be-a sufficient explanation.

3H's issues, meanwhile, are almost always logical, informative, and communicative. Edelgard's war is predicated on logic jumps built upon exaggerated issues, an inflated ego, a savior complex, and half truths, and she herself is a canonical liar and manipulator. 3H's worldbuilding is based upon taking NPCs, books, and character biases as fact, despite there being known cover ups in Fodlan's history; to the point where it's not even fully known whether the other Hresvelg siblings actually exist. Jeralt is supposed to be 100% trustworthy as your dad, but being vigilant means you'll probably realize he's kind of shit and did a poor job properly teaching Byleth growing up.

Fates might have the Valla curse and a magic truth throne, but those things have a simple A -> B explanation and impact on that game's plot. It's easy to criticize because it's easy to understand.

3H on the other hand, you have to constantly twist yourself into a pretzel in order justify every angle and every motivation for every character in the game, mostly in service of not overly shitting on Edelgard's character, which usually results in kowtowing to her fans by shitting on Rhea, Dimitri, the church and Faerghus or, in my eyes, giving up and claiming "no one's completely in the right and that's why the story's good in the first place!"

From my perspective, if this happens, where someone can't form a rock solid opinion on even just how they personally feel/think about the writing, then either they need more time to themselves instead of online discourse or (where I lean) the writing they're discussing simply isn't that good enough to warrant engaging with its bad faith fans.

Side tangent that doesn't really fit but I wanted to say it anyway: Other FE games' moral dilemmas worked as well as they did because they were ornamental; a spice to the main emotional and thematic thrust of what their stories were trying to convey. Even the more complex examples like the Tellius and Jugdral games, weren't trying to sell their stories based on "look how complex and morally gray everything is", they were natural elements of war stories that supplemented the more major storytelling beats (Tellius' discrimination aesop, religious and political dogma, class warfare, and Jugdral's geopolitical inheritance feuds and territorial disputes, blood quantums, and passing the torch to the next generation).

3H's main drive... is the moral grayness. War horrors, comparisons between peace time and conflict, and constant conversation over "what the other side's justification is" while trying to "fix Fodlan." And the sloppy, fractured, and overly bleak attempts at nuance exemplified in the story is precisely why moral grayness shouldn't be the main factor. But people ate it up because... well, the prose wasn't too shabby I guess.

[bananasfosterparent]

I'll be honest chief, not a fan of how a lot of astarion's fans who preach on the spawn ending give them the right to feel ownership of the character and story. "I give you permission to ascend Astarion, but only if you admit it's toxic!"

God I loved the spawn ending genuinely because it was wholesome and healthy version of how his romance can turn out, but the fact that people are being smug about it, write essays on it, at how everything relates to their personal trauma and that it must be the only way to solve it is nuts.

It's a video game guys, chile.

THANK YOU Anon! <3

The people offended are those who think that he has a "canon" ending and that it's the spawn ending. And like, from their POV, I understand why they're offended. But while that's the morally good and irl aligning "healthy" option, it is no more canon for his narrative than the asc ending. On top of that, it's like they look at us and hear "power courses through you--authority!" in their heads lmao

I understand people being uneasy about his amoral evil ending. It IS dark after all. On top of that, the spawn ending is often tied to someone's personal experiences/memories or something else for them. That's fair. But have they ever considered that the asc ending is the same way for us? Doesn't ever seem like it.

If someone can't see it the way we do.... that's okay! They don't have to see things like Asc fans do. That'd be boring for all of us anyway.

But they can at least respect the fact that we see it differently and it's not bad for us to do so. We have nothing to be ashamed of or sorry for. We have nothing to admit. With the nuances of his story, we see the same information and interpret it differently. That's what you're SUPPOSED to do with this type of game.

You know that phrase, "Don't yuck someone else's yum"? Honestly I don't even care. In fact, PLAESE yuck my yums. Variety is the spice of life and we need different people who like different things. So go ahead! Yuck our yum.

The ISSUE starts when you want me to yuck my own yum.

Cause like you said... behind all this discourse and abuse cycle talk.. it's just an RPG video game. It's a tool. It's not real life.

[netflixonyourcouch]

Friendly reminder: You don't have to be nice about new music sucking

Especially hip-hop.

I recently spoke about how poptimism grew obsolete. Poptimism rose in the early 2010s, where people had to make a case that you could listen to like, Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, Katy Perry, Carly Rae Jepsen, etc. and really enjoy their music the same way you could enjoy an album by Bon Iver or The National. It was a way for publications to pre-emptively shield themselves from any criticism from people who didn't think pop music was "real music." I grew to understand poptimism, and converted to pop through two albums that belong to R&B (Lemonade and ANTI) but are also two of the biggest pop albums of last decade.

But hip-hoptimism has gotta stop.

Hip-hoptimism seems to be a similar answer to poptimism where people are like, "What?? You CAN listen to Lil Uzi, YEAT, Playboi Carti, Ken Carson, Sexxy Red and Ice Spice! There's nothing wrong with having FUN in music."

Refer to title. It's okay to not be nice with these people. These artists suck. Plain and simple.

You're not going to convince me that Whole Lotta Red is good, when there's a song called "Jumpoutthehouse" and the only lyrics in the song is "Jump out the house!!" over and over again, shrieked in the most annoying way possible. Lil Uzi wants to be clever than he actually is, but his albums are incoherent messes and way too long. There's not a single good thing about lyrics that go, "My coochie pink, my bootyhole brown," yet people are CONVINCED that "Hood Hottest Princess" is some amazing album. "But it's fun!! She's having fun!!! You must not like fun!" FUN ISN'T THE ONLY REQUIREMENT OF MUSIC. Give "fun" a rest! Ice Spice raps like she's literally disinterested in rapping. And people are convinced Ken Carson is so amazing, but this is just an unlistenable mess, the beginning punctuated by a bunch of "HUH HUH HUH HUH HUH HUH" in the place of actual lyrics: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3QCk9sD3JY

Which of these new artists are supposed to be so great, so cutting edge and so masterfully artistic?

People are afraid of discourse which strongly rejects new music because they think it's a result of the old generation getting it wrong or being out of touch. Fuck that. It's time to stop being afraid of being honest about music. People are free to have their own opinions, and sure, nobody likes to have their opinion trampled over, I completely get that. But context is hella important, and we have to at least TRY to preserve history by remembering the good as good and the not so good as not so good. Imagine if everyone was like, oh Milli Vanilli and Vanilla Ice were better than Nas and Jay-Z. Well that's exactly what's happening when you let internet kids dictate the worst trap music ever is somehow the best that hip-hop has to offer.

I'll hop off my soapbox now, but I'm sick and tired of just laying back and watch people ruin the game that I love.

[pandora-whowalksbetween]

y’all waking up every morning and deciding who you want to exclude from enjoying a game today:

[lollylandgirl]

Spanish has (at least) two different words for what English calls spicy and the one that looks closer to spicy is the less spicy™ so it's always confusing to see English spicy discourse in the wild.

[just-antithings]

Boyfriends discourse is making me loose all my marbles. Someone made an almost 40min video and spent like half of it shitting on Boyfry

I quote “We also need to talk about how it handles polyamorous relationships. The polyamory idea has a stereotype of being intended for nothing but sex and swinging. Does Boyfriends do anything, and I mean anything to disprove of that? No, not really

They portray polyamorous men as nothing but gay and sexual intentionally. For reference, there’s literal nsfw comics on their patreon.”

So the comic is full of gay stereotypes, which is bad (it’s high school stereotypes but ok), it fetishizes gay man because it’s ‘uwu cute’ , but it’s also too sexual because of 3 mildly suggestive scenes? (Boyfriends is sfw. The author keeps all the nsfw on their Patreon for a reason. The main webcomic is SUPPOSED to be cute fluffy). The characters are “underdeveloped”? Yeah I’d assume they are, given how the comic is not finished and also slice of life

Boyfriends does nothing to disprove bad polyam stereotypes? This person just finished ranting about High Guardian Spice and its ‘forced/token representation’ (I haven’t watched it so I can’t comment). How do you actively disprove stereotypes without that??

Swinging? There’s a scene in the comic where the MCs go to pride. Character A is asked out for a drink by this Random Guy. Character B comes in and says “sorry he’s taken”. RG turns to Character C, B says “he’s taken too”. He turns to Character D and reluctantly asks “how about you?” “Taken”. They all laugh, drink with RG as friends and talk about their relationship

They have multiple chapters dedicated to the MCs talking about their boundaries

I’m just So tired. I don’t care if the person making the video is gay. What business do you (‘you’ as in ‘this person’) have shitting on a queer man’s wish fulfillment slice of life webcomic? Go find something else, it’s ONE webcomic

[bigbadredpanda]

I just glossed over the whole argument and focused on the potato part so I apologize if I get anything wrong

Hello 👋🏼 I just came across something in Twitter that peaked my interest, but had no way of verifying whether it was true or not since I’ve never read the original MDZS in it’s Chinese version so I’d like to ask for your help if it’s alright

Was there ever a mention of potatoes in the MDZS novel in China? Particularly during the Burial Mounds settlement period with Wei Wuxian and the Wen refugees?

Person A said that the mention of potatoes in MDZS is a historical inaccuracy in MXTX’s part in the book. There were others who stated that the mention of potatoes was in CQL and that: (1.) it was a different vegetable in the book, (2.) there was no mention of potatoes in the novel, or a (3.) possible mistranslation

(2/2) I’m only curious about the potatoes— I honestly thought that Wei Wuxian was talking about wanting to plant chilis or some spices rather than potatoes but maybe I remembered wrong Regarding what OP said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong if MDZS had potatoes in them— historical inaccuracy does not mean that it’s alright to disregard and disrespect the fact that the foundations of MDZS are grounded on China’s culture and history though

Hi! Huh, I have not seen this potato debate but then again I do not keep my eyes peeled for fandom discourse as I have other fish to fry.

I can certainly confirm that potatoes are mentioned in the novel. In chapter 73, Wei Wuxian wishes to plant potatoes (土豆 tǔdòu) in Burial Mounds but Wen Qing points out that radishes (萝卜 luóbo) are easier to grow.

As for the supposed historical "mistakes", well, I'll just rehash what MXTX already said in her postscript of MDZS about her story being a deliberate mash of various elements from different eras:

架空文有一个好处就是不用太考据，一些习俗也可以乱改。本文大体风俗从魏晋南北朝和唐代那一块，少有椅子，说“坐”通常是指跪坐，礼服是唐巾和圆领袍。但是明朝才有的辣椒和苹果出现了，始于宋代的义庄出现了，建筑上的“重檐歇山顶”是清代叫法，某些词汇和引用的诗句更是穿越。还提前到十五岁就取字。总之就���作者把所有喜欢的古代元素都糅在一锅里炖了，无严谨可言。所以，随便吧，看看人物和故事就算了。

One good thing about writing alternate history is that it does not require too much research, some customs can be altered at will. Most of the customs in the text come from the time periods of the Wei, Jin, Northern, Southern and Tang dynasties [~220-907]. There were few chairs and "sitting" usually referred to a kneeling position, the attire was composed of a Tang cap and a round collar robe. However chillies and apples did not arrive until the Ming dynasty [1368-1644], coffin homes emerged with the Song dynasty [960-1279], buildings with hip-and-gable roofs are mentioned during the Qing dynasty [1644-1911] and some expressions and poem references are even more anachronic. The age at which one gets a courtesy name was also advanced to 15 years old [instead of 20]. In a word, the author mixed all her favourite elements of ancient history in a stewing pot with no rigour whatsoever. So just read for the characters and the story and leave it at that.

While it's true that the international fandom can not see the "alternate history" tag on the original novel page and that it's the first foray for many people into Chinese fiction, it's highly disingenuous to level accusations of historical inaccuracy against an author who made no claim to write a faithful account of history and who wrote instead a xianxia novel, a fantasy genre reliant on Chinese cultural concepts with its own specifications and tropes. Conversely, I haven't seen people being up in arms when a Western story in a generic medieval setting contained factual errors. It seems to me that some people with a chip on their shoulder just want to drive a wedge between the fandom.

[marmosa]

it takes two.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: a little 18+ humor at a point, but it’s pretty low-key. 

A/N: this had some anti-olives discourse and i’m not sorry about it olives r fcking nasty. also [y/n]’s smell is daisy love by marc jacobs for reference, it’s a perfume i really like but i was like there is no way anyone knows what a fucking cloudberry is, so next time you’re at sephora or sumthin go get a whiff of it, it’s lovely. anywho hope you guys like it, i had tons of fun writing the banter in this one, hope it turned out as nice as i thought :) p.s i didn’t proof read this so sorry in advance <3

***

[y/n] hated potions. She hated it more than anything else on this planet and that was saying something considering olives were literally out there existing. Potions shouldn’t have been such a hard class for her, not when she had no problem in her other classes, and certainly not when all it included was following a damned recipe.

Which explained why she wanted to drive a dagger through her skull when Professor Snape announced they’d be spending the next few days preparing to brew amortentia. Not only was the romantic part of it so nerve wracking it made the entire class nauseous, but the prospect of messing it up and not smelling anything at all was even worse (for those who cared, at least).

“You’re dismissed. Make sure to study up on the potion before hand or you’ll sorely regret it,” Snape called out to the class in that tone of his voice that sounded like rancid milk. Was it mentioned that [y/n] also hated Snape? Yeah that too.

As [y/n] packed up her things, she felt a tap on her shoulder, “Speak of the devil.”

“I’m not the devil, I know you lot think ginger’s are evil, but I can assure you I am no devil,” Fred shook his head displeasingly, crossing his arms and leaning back against her desk, “Also, what a way to great someone, sheesh woman, you’d think you’d be more excited to see me.”

“Okay, firstly, there was no need for that whole spiel,” [y/n] held her hands up defensively, “Secondly, I only said that because I was just thinking about you before you arrived.”

Fred rolled his eyes at her back-tracking, but smiled smugly none-the-less, “Aww you were thinking of me? Nothing too naughty I hope,” he winked.

[y/n] flipped her bag shut and looked up at him with a deadpan expression, reaching up and punching his shoulder, “you wish, Weasley. The only naughty thing I’d be caught doing with you is tying you up to turn you in to the police.”

“Tying me up? Didn’t take you as the type for that sort of thing,” Fred grinned, biting back another remark as he watched her groan in annoyance but refuse to make eye contact with him, “but honestly, what were you thinking about?”

“Well,” [y/n] began, pulling at his sleeve to get him to follow her out of class, “You know we have this amortentia potion coming up and I’m doing shit in this class, but I was thinking you could help me study since you have a track record of being good in this class?”

“Hmm,” Fred pondered the offer, shrugging, “what’s in it for me?”

“You get to spend time with me?” [y/n] smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes dramatically to emphasize the effect.

“That’s a shit deal,” Fred chuckled, raising his brows with a small grin at [y/n]’s frown.

“Yeah, it is,” [y/n] sighed, an idea popping into her head, “but if I brewed it successfully you’d get to find out who I fancy, I know you’ve been poking around there because you’re an nosy git who won’t leave me alone about it.”

Fred scoffed in mock offense, tilting his head to the side, “Rude, but not false. Y’know, that does spice up the offer, but what’s stopping me from just finding out by having you smell someone else’s brew? And who’s to say I’m gonna know who smells like that anyway?”

“You’re so difficult,” [y/n] groaned, sinking her shoulders, “you know what, just forget it. I’ll go bother George or something, y’know the better twin.”

Fred’s smile fell as he screwed his features together, ”Excuse me? You’ve got some nerve you little-,”

“I don’t-woah!” [y/n] yelped as Fred tackled her to the side of the empty hall, trapping her against the wall, his hand planted to the side of her head and his other arm situated above her head.

“Take it back,” Fred demanded, giving her a once over, amused at the way she silently reeled over the position she’d just been put into.

“And why should I?” [y/n] snapped back, staring right back at him as soon as she’d gotten her bearings.

“Take it back,” Fred repeated simply, his voice low as he tried to coax his desired response out of her.

“Again, why should I?” [y/n] hummed, relaxing against the wall and looking at him with a sly smile.

Fred rolled his eyes and straightened himself back up, pushing his hair out of his face with one hand, “you’re no fun, you know exactly why.”

“No I don’t,” [y/n] continued, chimed in amusement, “do you think George isn’t as good as you?”

“Now don’t you go putting words in my mouth,” Fred snipped, “you know just as well as I do that’s not true.”

“I don’t know, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” [y/n] shrugged, biting back a laugh at Fred’s less than amused expression, “I’ll cut you a deal. You help me with potions and I don’t tell George your dirty little secret.”

“That’s not-,” Fred groaned, his argumentative spirit draining out of his body as his will to spend time with her won out, “Fine. But if you ever tell a lie like that to George, I’ll feel no remorse telling everyone and their mother that you like being tied up for fun.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” [y/n] hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What? It’s not like it’s true,” Fred teased, his smirk falling when she remained silent, “No way, [y/n] that’s got to be a lie.”

“So what if it isn’t? You’ll never know,” [y/n] giggled, biting back a smile.

“Now wait a minute-,” Fred began, startled at this random piece of questionable information, but was cut off as they arrived at [y/n]’s class.

“It was lovely chatting with you, but I will have to see you later,” [y/n] hummed playfully, giving him a quick hug before darting into her classroom leaving a shocked Fred to himself, “bye Freddie!”

***

“Do you think Fred likes me?” [y/n] rolled onto her stomach and looked over at her friend expectantly, bumping her ankles together to distract her from the rapid beating of her heart.

Nadya tossed her books to the side and slid her legs off the side of her bed, leaning forward to try and be level with [y/n], “Are you really asking me that right now?”

“What!” [y/n] scoffed, pouting, “it’s an honest question!”

“Of all things holy,” Nadya groaned, burying her face in her hands, “Of course he likes you? You really asked him to be your homework helper and he said yes. Who in their right mind willingly studies for potions?”

[y/n] chewed on the inside of her cheek, nodding along, “You are absolutely correct. But like, if he doesn’t, isn’t it going to backfire on me when he realizes I smell him in the amortentia potion?”

“Bold of you to assume that any man knows what he smells like,” Nadya chuckled, “Remember in grade school when the boys would wear that atrocious body spray? It was ghastly.”

“Again, you’re absolutely correct. But Fred has like a distinct smell, it’s like camp fires, caramel, and fire-whiskey,” [y/n] sighed, letting herself bask in the though of how lovely he was, “it’s wonderful.”

“Kinda creepy that you know how specific it is,” Nadya pursed her lips and titled her head to the side to avoid [y/n]’s flat glare.

“Oh yeah because yesterday you totally weren’t telling me about Sam’s ‘absolutely magical eyes’, your words not mine,” [y/n] hummed, a smug smile drawing itself across her lips.

“You’re a twat,” Nadya snapped back, rolling her eyes, “back to you, aren’t you suppose to meet him in the library in like 5 minutes?”

[y/n] glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and nearly feel onto the floor running to get her stuff, “Shit! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Because you were too busy talking about what Fred smelled like,” Nadya deadpanned, taking her turn to smile smugly.

“I would wipe that stupid look off your face if I wasn’t running late,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes teasingly, grabbing her textbooks, “see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner,” Nadya affirmed, waving goodbye.

***

“Took you long enough,” Fred lulled, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m surprised you were here on time, especially for something as boring as homework,” [y/n] replied, setting all her stuff down and sliding into the seat across from him.

Fred looked at her dumbly, wanting to snap back but not knowing how to without admitting he was just excited to see her, “Shut up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who asked for my help?”

[y/n] leaned her cheek onto her balled up fist and exhaled deeply, “Touché. You’re a handful Weasley.”

“You love it though,” He hummed, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That I do,” [y/n] chuckled, kicking his ankles playfully under the table.

“Well, if you need my help it’s counter productive to do it across from me isn’t it? You don’t want to be swinging a book around over and over again,” Fred mentioned while flipping through his own textbook to find the lesson.

“That’s a good point,” [y/n] shrugged, pushing all her stuff to the other side of the table and switching her seat, glancing over at his book to note the page number, “Y’know, I actually really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, volunteer work is important after all,” Fred teased, quickly back-tracking when she stared back at him blankly, “Kidding! You know I’ll always make time for you,” he mumbled, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

[y/n] rolled her eyes and pretended to fish around her bag so he wouldn’t notice the embarrassed look on her face, “Thanks. Same for you.”

Fred chuckled softly, leaning his cheek onto his fist to watch her silently, admiring the way she looked out of uniform in her favorite sweater and pair of jeans. She practically glowed in the low light of the library, her hands constantly pushing a fly away of hair out of her face, her face screwing up in an adorable sort of annoyance. He was smitten, no doubt about it, and honestly- he was okay with that.

“What’re you looking at?” [y/n] muttered, catching his unwavering stare.

“Nothing, you’ve just got an eyelash on your face,” Fred played it off nonchalantly, reaching forward and brushing off the imaginary eyelash.

[y/n] tried her absolute best not to combust right then and there, thanking him quietly before redirecting his attention to the work, “So, what do you say we start here? The measurements are rather odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Fred bit back a smile and nodded, amused at the loss of her fiery attitude, his heart thumping loudly against his chest.

“Yeah, they are.”

***

“Fuck!”

Nadya glanced up from the journal sitting in her lap, the pair of eyes she was sketching seemingly following along with her as she located [y/n] standing in front of the mirror, looking ready to fall apart.

“What’s all this about then?” Nadya inquired, cocking her head to the side.

“We’re making the potions today and it didn’t seem like a big deal two days ago but the anxiety has finally caught up to me and I feel truly sick,” [y/n] shuddered, jumping up and down in place to try and shake out her prickling nerves.

“I know you’re worried, but what are the chances of anyone knowing what that smell is? By the way you described it, it’s so painfully specific that only someone who’s known him for ages would know,” Nadya reassured her panicking friend, smiling softly.

“I know, but what if-,”

“If you keep talking yourself into believing it you’re gonna be miserable. Just breath, go do your best, and have fun. Nothing will go wrong,” Nadya explained calmly, knowing just how much of a busy-brain [y/n] could get.

“Ah, you’re right, I’m only gonna make myself feel worse. I’ll stop, thanks Nadya,” [y/n] padded over and gave her a quick hug, “see you at lunch?”

“See you at lunch,” Nadya nodded, waving her goodbye.

***

“You’ve all finished brewing your amortentia I presume,” Snape spoke in that nasally tone of his, glowering at the class.

The class replied with a cacophony of “yes’s”, the anxiety of each person literally rolling off the walls in waves. People who had a fancy in that class practically had a neon sign above their heads that said so, while those who didn’t sat back and relaxed in peace as they pondered their grade.

[y/n] glanced over at Fred who caught her gaze, passing her an enthusiastic thumbs up, which she returned happily despite the knots forming in her stomach.

“Well then, if you’re done, get into your groups and test it out. Remember if you smell nothing that it doesn’t mean you failed the potion, you must reference the check list of properties before coming to a conclusion,” Snape explained, folding his hands behind his back, “is that clear?”

The class responded with “yes’s” once more and in an instant the room was bustling as the groups got to smelling their potions to test out the initial effects. [y/n]’s group agreed that they’d go clock-wise, leaving her last to test out the potion.

“It smells like honey, baked goods, and lavender,” Charlie spoke up, his cheeks tinging red as he probably registered quite who the scent was probably related to.  

“That’s a lovely combination,” Dina nodded, leaning forward and taking a whiff of their own brew, “truly I can’t smell much but there is a faint note of citrus,” they shrugged.

[y/n] and Timothy exchanged knowing glances, a fancy probably developing in Dina’s life that they hadn’t quite registered yet.

“My turn,” Timothy exhaled, nodding stiffly as if to reassure himself as he smelled the potion. His eyes nearly popped out his head as he took a step back fanning his face slightly, “that has got to be the strongest smell of herbs I’ve ever smelled- he’s probably been spending extra time in the Green Room, that twat.”

The group broke into laughter as he gracefully excused himself to go stand outside to let the smell filter out of his nose. As soon as he’d left, the group look at [y/n] expectantly, all excited to hear what she smelled.

[y/n] swallowed thickly and leaned over her pot, her nerves finally spiking as she took a whiff of the brew. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she finally registered the smell, her face growing hot, as an embarrassed expression pulled itself onto her features- of course it was him.

“So, what did you smell?” Dina chirped enthusiastically, leaning against the table.

“Yeah [y/n], what did you smell?”

[y/n] felt her heart drop to her feet, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and into the pot in front of her. Of course he was going to ask.

“You did promise you’d tell me,” Fred smirked, leaning against the table, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“That I did,” [y/n] chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ll cut you a deal this time. You tell me what you smelled and I’ll tell you what I did,” Fred offered, raising his brows to emphasize his tantalizing offer.

“Deal,” [y/n] nodded, rolling her shoulder a few times, “I smelled a camp fire, caramel, and fire whiskey.”

Charlie and Dina exchanged wide eyed glances, quietly agreeing that the smell was certainly unique and equally lovely before excusing themselves to go get a final grade from Snape.

“What a unique smell,” Fred hummed, eyeing her groupmates oddly “Guess I have to hold up my end of the bargain then. I couldn’t really tell you the specifics, but definitely berries, daisies, and driftwood.”

“That’s even more unique than mine, whoever you smelled sure does have a refined palette,” [y/n] giggled, calming down as she realized Fred had no clue who she was talking about with her own smell.

“She sure does. I think it’s her perfume or something, she wears it everyday so I recognized it almost immediately,” Fred chuckled, shrugging, “But fire whiskey, I truly wonder who that could be, you wouldn’t happen to be willing to tell me? Would you?” he bat his eyelashes innocently.

“In your dreams Weasley,” [y/n] huffed, shoving him playfully.

“Ouch, tough crowd,” Fred pouted, turning so his elbows were leaned onto the table behind him.

“You know I’m only keeping it from you for my own sanity,” [y/n] chuckled, reaching over and shaking his shoulder softly.

Fred chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing in the opposite direction from her, his mind clouded with doubt, wondering who this mystery person could possibly be- praying to everything holy that there was even a possibility of it being him.

Unbeknownst to him,  [y/n]’s internal dialogue was practically doing the same thing trying desperately to put a person to the smell he describe but coming up empty, her heart sinking slightly while she admonished herself for getting her hopes up too fast.    

“Well, you know I’m not gonna give up until I find out. I’ll sniff everyone in our year if it means getting my answer,” Fred teased, winking at her.

“That’s so creepy, you’ll be lucky if you can even get close enough to smell your own brother,” [y/n] laughed, letting her head roll forward slightly.

“Whatever you say,” Fred hummed, shimmying his shoulders to a silent tune, “better go get that grade of yours then, we didn’t do all that studying for nothing.”

“We might’ve since you couldn’t tell who I smelled,” [y/n] bit back a laugh when Fred glared back at her.

“You’re a twat.”

“I know.”

***

“Nadya! My dearest darling companion to ever to walk this planet, do you happen to know anyone who smells like caramel and fire whiskey?” Fred asked, throwing his arms around the two girls.

Nadya nearly spilled her drink at Fred’s sudden appearance, which didn’t particularly go down well with her, “Fred if you scare us like that again I’m going to hex you so severely you’ll be stuck in the infirmary trying to figure out how to get your wand out of your arse.”

Fred’s face drained of all it’s color (if that was even possible, being as pale as he already was), “Sorry Nadya, my bad.”

[y/n] stifled a laugh, continuing to munch on her piece of chicken, ignoring Nadya’s side eye that practically screamed “handle your own boyfriend”.

“But back to your question, I can’t say that I do, who do you have in mind so far?” Nadya humored him, trying her best to give leeway to both her best friend and her best friend’s crush.

“Well, as [y/n] so wisely said, it’s too creepy to go around and sniff people, so I’m just going off of hunches. Oliver seems like a likely candidate and so does Casper, but I’m still not sure,” Fred sighed, obviously already impatient in his search.

Nadya glanced over at [y/n] who was all to comfortable pretending she wasn’t a part of the conversation, happily sipping at her cider.

“I’m not gonna say anything, you can search for as long as you’d like, I’m not budging,” [y/n] shook her head, smiling all too amused, patting Fred’s head patronizingly.  

“You’re no fun,” Fred pouted, huffing and standing back straight, dusting off the invisible dust on his robes, “Well since I’m not gonna get an answer out of either you, I’ll take my search elsewhere, see you around.”

“Bye Freddie,” [y/n] chirped, waving goodbye to him, “So you were right.”

Nadya broke into laughter, elbowing [y/n] playfully, “I told you! You got so worked up and he hasn’t even gotten close to an answer.”

“Casper, he really thinks I’d like Casper? He’s lovely and all but imagine having to sit through him telling you about how handsome he is? That sounds absolutely awful,” [y/n] shook her head, giggling at the thought.

“I truly think he’s just lying to himself at this point, there’s no way he’d be that dumb,” Nadya claimed, refiling her cup.

“I think so too, you know Fred though, he love’s a good challenge,” [y/n] shrugged, taking another bite of her chicken, “well have to see.”

***

“Okay, I think I’ve figured it out!”

[y/n] groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes, sinking as far as she could into the couch that she thought was tucked at the very back corner of the library, “please, it’s been nearly two days! You haven’t given it up yet?”

“Not at all, it’s fun, irritating, but fun,” Fred beamed, skipping over and plopping down next to her on the couch, “See I think I’ve narrowed the search down to these three guys.”

[y/n] glanced down at the small sheet of paper he held out to her and then back at him, a tired sag in her eyes as she felt guilt start to push against her chest. Maybe she was in the wrong for letting him run around and play a fruitless guessing game that she knew he would probably never get the answer to.

“I’m thinking if you give me another clue, I could zero it down to-,”

“It’s not them Fred.”

Fred fell quiet as [y/n] pushed his hand down, taking the paper and tossing it on the small table to her side, pushing his fingers into a small fist that she held gingerly, “It’s not anyone you’ve guessed.”

[y/n] sighed and swallowed her nerves, deciding it was now or never, that if she didn’t say something now she would be tormented by regret and Fred’s relentless guesses for the rest of her life.

“It’s no one you know because,” [y/n] looked away, literally incapable of meeting the wide inviting look he was giving her right then, “it’s you Fred. I like you.”

When she was met with silence, the rock finally started to settle at the pit of her stomach, her brows knitting together as she bit back her bubbling emotions. She tried to pull her hand back but had it quickly snatched back by Fred who had threaded their fingers together.

“I knew it,” He grinned, cupping her face with one hand and pulling her to him, his lips pressing against hers extremely gentle for how abrupt the kiss had been.

[y/n]’s eyes went wide before sinking shut, her free hand wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. They sat like that for a while, the quite chatter of the other students background noise to the gentle kisses they passed between one another, the pent up impatience and nervousness draining out of them with each and every kiss.

The two of them finally pulled away, a red hue fanned over Fred’s face, his freckles even more noticeable now that she was up this close.

“Shit, I didn’t ask permission to kiss you, did I?” Fred mumbled bumping his forehead against hers, squeezing their still intertwined hands.

“It’s okay, at least I kissed back, yeah?” [y/n] whispered, thumbing over the small scar on his cheek, probably from a quidditch match.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be better about it though,” Fred promised, tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Me too,” [y/n] smiled, adoration practically rolling off of her in waves, “wait- what did you mean you knew it?”

Fred pulled back and sat up straight, his lips pressed together so tightly he was practically forcing all the blood out of them, “Well, I kind of already knew from the time your tablemates sort of left us alone in potions. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

[y/n] felt her face fall, her mouth getting stuck open in an o shape, as she stared at him dumbly, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately no,” Fred giggled, placing both of his hands on the sides of her face, “don’t be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, just disappointed in myself, that shit’s embarrassing for me!” [y/n] groaned, placing her hands on top of his.

“Well it all worked out in the end didn’t it?” Fred chimed, his lips stretching out into a grin.

“I suppose it did,” [y/n] hummed thoughtfully.

“Now the real question is how you didn’t know what your own perfume smelled like,” Fred quipped, immediately bouncing back to teasing her.

“Oh for god’s sake, do I look like I research perfume scents in my free time?” [y/n] scoffed.

“A little bit,” Fred muttered.

“You know what never mind, don’t you ever try to kiss me again,” [y/n] shoved him off her playfully, scooting all the way to the opposite end of the couch.

“Now don’t be like that,” Fred groaned, crawling over to her.

“Nuh uh, nope,” [y/n] shook her head, sticking out her legs in a feeble attempt to stop his advance.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, too late, come here.”

“I said no- fine! Fine, goodness gracious.”  

“Mhm, that’s what I thought, now give me another kiss before you have to go back to doing boring homework.”

“Fine.”  

[ofgeography]

FINALLY. SORRY. I’M SORRY. FINALLY. I’M A DAY LATE, OR ALSO LIKE HALF A YEAR LATE, DEPENDING ON HOW YOU LOOK AT IT. SORRY.

-

“that’s when things really took a turn,” homer muses, tapping his fingers against his cheek. “like—when they turned nasty.”

he felt donut push another cup of coffee into the hand still on the table, and he took a grateful sip. all this caffeine and sugar was doing wonders to revive him.

“they weren’t nasty before?”

“well, the nastiness was isolated, you know? but now it started to bleed out. i think we all began to feel, like ... i dunno, man. like there were real stakes.”

—

the thing about meetings of the young socialists club was that most people only went to them because there was always an abundance of free pizza and weed, and the agenda usually consisted of everybody talking shit about university administration and competing to see who would be fucked the most by their student loans. athena herself couldn’t think about having to make loan payments without spiraling into a panic, which was why athena was going to be a hedge fund manager so she could hire an accountant who would do it for her. in theory, she supposed she agreed with socialists about, like, how being a billionaire should probably be classified as a war crime.

but in practice, athena wanted very much to be a billionaire, so you see her problem.

“i’m just saying, it would be dope,” athena said, blowing a halo of smoke above hera’s head to make her look like a stoner angel. hera always insisted she came so that she could understand the minds of her future campaign rivals, which was why she never allowed herself to be noted on the roll call. she couldn’t have young socialist in her political history; it would be career suicide for a future senator of south carolina. “come on. you’ll be my secret weapon.”

hera raised her eyebrows. “what makes you think i’m any good?”

“well, for one thing, i happen to know you have a conceal-and-carry license,” athena told her, voice dry. “and i was there last year when that coyote got into the yard and you shot it from the attic window using only a rubber band and a bottle of nail polish.”

“necessity is the father of invention,” hera sniffed. “the answer is no. i will be in the stands, dressed like a sexy baseball pitcher, selling extraordinary amounts of popcorn to freshmen because they want an excuse to talk to me. it’s our biggest fundraiser of the year. we make a lot of money for scholarships.”

“we wouldn’t have to make money for scholarships if education was free,” pointed out dio. he had his head in athena’s lap, and they were operating on a one-bite-for-me-one-bite-for-you pizza consumption system. “not to, you know, distract from your very important sorority social events planning, here at this meeting about socialism.”

athena patted his forehead like he was a disgruntled puppy. “shh, the grownups are talking,” she told him. “also, you know very well people only come to these things because it’s basically free therapy.”

“all therapy could be free if we — ”

“dude,” athena interrupted. “i really need you to understand that you don’t need to give me a stump speech. you have my vote.”

“gonna be hard to own a penthouse under socialism,” hera said dryly.

“no one will need a penthouse under socialism,” said dio.

“all the same, i’d like one,” athena told him. “that’s what luxury is. stuff you have that you don’t need. let’s have socialism where everybody gets a penthouse.”

dio pinched the bridge of his nose. “that is against the nature of penthouses,” he told her, and then reached up to pull her hand, and the pizza she held in it, to his mouth. around a bite of cheese and pepperoni he continued, “they’re at the top, you see, of other houses. which are therefore not pent.”

“pent means top?”

“pent means slope.”

“so why can’t everyone just have a sloped house?”

“do you want a sloped house?”

“i want a house with floor to ceiling windows that lets me look down on the little people and comes with an infinity pool. and a fountain. for champagne.”

“okay, so you can see why maybe that doesn’t quite fit with the egalitarian underpinnings of socialist discourse.”

“blech,” said hera.

athena and dio both looked at her. dio raised his eyebrows. “blech, equality?”

“equality is fine. but anyone trying to take away my right to have a champagne fountain is getting one between the eyes.”

athena beamed. “you see?” she cried. “this is why we should play. we’d clean house.”

“i’m not playing paintball with you, it’s pedestrian,” hera told her flatly. “end of.”

athena sighed. “this is why people don’t like us. they think we’re snobs.”

from her lap, dio snorted. “to be fair you did just call them the little people,” he pointed out, and then, without warning, sat straight up, eyes wide. athena waited him out; this happened to dio, sometimes. he’d be going along just fine and then it was like he’d been suddenly struck by some magic idea that transformed him. she liked this about him; it was like being friends with a magic eight ball except instead of predicting the future it gave you ideas about free-market economics. “athena. that’s brilliant.”

“thank you, i know,” she told him with the confidence of someone who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“honestly, i can’t believe i didn’t think of it before.”

athena nodded, sagely. “me either, to be frank,” she said. “i’ve been trying to tell you this whole time.”

“i mean — it’s wrong to weaponize class warfare, but if we do it that way they can’t trace it directly back to us.”

“exactly,” said athena. “that’s my point, precisely.”

dio gave her a big, smacking kiss on the cheek. “and you’re sure you’re okay with it? it might fuck some things up. no last words?”

athena took a bite of pizza. “last words are for fools who haven’t said enough,” she told him. he kissed her again and then got to his feet and dashed out of the room. athena didn’t know who he thought was going to clean up all the empty pizza boxes, but that wasn’t her business.

hera took a delicate bite of a single slice of pepperoni that she’d plucked from an untouched slice. “quoting marx to the marxist. nice.”

athena shoved the rest of her slice into her mouth. “was that marx?” she asked. “i read it in a fortune cookie i got last week. sounds dope though, right?”

hera laughed. she leaned over and plucked a piece of pepperoni from the pizza in athena’s hand, taking a delicate bite. she made a considering face, then put the rest of it into her mouth. you really could taste all five spices. what she didn’t know, of course, because she had consistently refused to partake of the pizza itself, was that there was a sixth spice, a mystery flavor no one on campus could pinpoint, which was baked not into the pepperoni but into the cheese; and it was this sixth spice that made all the difference. this sixth spice which elevated the ’za above all its competitors. this sixth spice, which —

-

“okay, that’s enough about the pizza,” says donut.

homer groans, dropping his head against the table. “i’m hungry,” he whines. “and i’m about to have a serious sugar crash. who eats donuts as a hangover cure? you guys are animals.”

ray ban sighs. “if i get you a breakfast sandwich, will you focus?”

with his face still pointed toward the ground, homer smiles. “like a teenaged overachiever on adderall,” he promises.

there is the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, and the door opens and closes. homer keeps his head against the metal of the table. it’s cool. it feels good. he has a headache, and also, he has kind of talked himself into wanting pizza. god. pizza would be so clutch right now. all that grease and bread and cheese. he wonders whether ray ban is going to mcdonalds for his breakfast sandwich. they’re pretty good, but homer really prefers hardees, if he’s honest. he doesn’t know if this stupid state has hardees. probably ray ban was just going to go to a fucking panera bread or something.

“well, while we’re waiting,” donut prods, “might as well keep going.”

homer rolls his head back and forth. “can’t,” he grumbles. “too weak from hunger. i’m seeing spots.”

“that’s the alcohol leaving your bloodstream,” donut tells him dryly. “now talk.”

homer sighs. “look, it’ll be better if i show you,” he says. “give me my phone.”

“so you can text your accomplices?”

“no, so i can show you The Post. look, you can watch me do it over my shoulder, but i do not give you permission to search my phone. surely that’s a right i have.”

“the rules on phone searches are kind of nebulous, actually,” donut says. “but i am very uninterested in seeing your nudes or any of the nudes you have accumulated.”

homer lifts his head, perking up. “you think i’m cool enough for girls to send me nudes?” he asks, touched. “i mean, putting aside the fact that, once again i must remind you, i am blind, and can’t see them?”

donut pats his hand reassuringly. “sure i do, kid.”  with a sigh, he gets up and leaves homer alone in the interrogation room for a couple of minutes; when he comes back, he slides something across the table. homer’s phone. he could weep, but he’s a grown up, so he doesn’t. instead, he lifts it to unlock with his face. the beautiful, familiar voice of apple’s voiceover lady says: “Messages. Twitter. Mail. Instagram.” he double-taps. “Dictate.”

“User For The Birds,” he says, then waits for it to load. He hands the phone over.

homer puts his head back down on the table. “read it and weep,” he instructs. “i’m napping until my man ray ban gets back with my breakfast sandwich.”

read hour six

[foodbytesback]

I Critique a Bunch of Cooking Products Meant for Children

Absent-mindedly scrolling through Twitter, I saw a listicle claiming to be the best gifts to give to children who are eager to learn how to cook.  My first thoughts upon seeing this were a.) oh shit, it’s not even Halloween (at the time of writing this) and we’re already Christmas shopping? and b.) ugh, I thought I unfollowed Bon Appetit, why are they on my timeline? 

Much like the author of the piece, I too spent a good deal of my childhood begging for an Easy-Bake Oven- oblivious to how poorly they really work and of how much of a rip-off the refill packs are- and am dumbfounded by how mature the equivalent offerings for today’s children are in comparison.  I wasn’t allowed to make Easy-Mac by myself until I was 10, the fact that there are children out there doing some of the things on this list blows my mind. I mean, sure, maybe the children of Bon Appetit employees can be expected to be slightly more culinarily-skilled that the average child, but just how good of an idea is it to give kids these kinds of things? 

Also, I’m short on time this week, and making fun of listicles is quick and easy.  So let’s make fun of some things!

On one hand, I can appreciate that kids like to dress the part.  On the other hand, I feel like I’ve never seen a home cook in real life wear an apron. On the other OTHER hand, these kids could be watching a lot of be-aproned YouTubers, so that could be swaying their opinion of aprons.  I can’t help but feel like BA’s choice for “Inspired by African Prints” aprons is them trying to be all “no really guys, we’re not racist anymore!”

What kind of bougie-ass kid has their own ice cream maker? smh my head

Ok, discourse on whether or not anyone would want to eat a poop-shaped cookie, these kinds of overly-detailed cookie cutters are notorious for not retaining their shape as they bake.  Unless you’re trying to teach a child a lesson in how to curb their expectations to minimize disappointments, don’t get them this.

Yeah man. Baby tongs.

What.  What? I mean… What? 

God, I love the glazed look in their unfocused eyes.  They’re just as confused as I am.

On one hand, I appreciate the idea behind teaching children how to appreciate what spices are and why we use them, and I have previously gone on the record as saying bundling cookbooks and the spices featured in them together is a great gift idea.  But I’m not entirely sure what a child is supposed to do with whole mustard seeds.  Maybe I need to buy the book to find out. 

All potential for crass comments aside (the post is for the CHILDREN), I’m pretty sure your kid doesn’t necessarily need to be a gourmand for this one.

Considering much of this list is framed around “kids want to get into cooking because it makes them feel more grown-up,” a cookbook of simple recipes written by a teen feels like a great way to bridge that gap.

I… really don’t think giving a child a cast iron skillet is such a great idea. Like, sure, I can get the idea of how a small, lightweight pan won’t stay put on the stove and could lead to burns, but I feel like the risk of them dropping a full-weight cast iron skillet on their foot is just as bad if not worse.  Also, don’t buy your kid a $150 Le Creuset, just get like a $10 Lodge.

You really think kids can make raindrop cakes?  I don’t think I could make a raindrop cake.  And as far as I know, they don’t really taste like much, which makes me feel like most kids would be disappointed after the spectacle of it wears off.

Normally I hate these kinds of unitaskers that are just gonna sit around taking up space.  But I can imagine this is probably both healthier than taking the kids to Dunkin and safer than giving them a deep fryer, so like, I guess I can give it a pass this time. 

Oh HELL yeah! Tacosaurus Rex!

Much like with the cast iron skillet, there’s this weird, doting mother in me that thinks giving a kid a knife isn’t a GREAT idea.  But, like, I guess for a more experienced child chef it’s not that big of a deal.  I still can’t help but picture that one Vine of a kid running around with a knife though.

This might be the single item on this list that I have the biggest gripe with.  In my experience, gingerbread dough is a very stiff dough, so I don’t really think the mold is a.) necessary, because the dough will hold the shape that you cut it into as it bakes, or b.) something that would really work well unless you really cram it in there.  The reviews seem favorable, sure, but even if it does work you’re only gonna use it once a year.

My only problem with this is the insistence that these are “just like grandma’s.”  Is there a new, cool generation of grandmas rockin tats that I don’t know about?

Uhh it’s fancy sprinkles.  Sure, why not. Kind of an underwhelming way to end the list.  

[almostkoo]

pairings: jung hoseok x oc

summary:  oc notices something strange about hoseok, their friend who’s normally upbeat and cheerful suddenly things start going left quickly in the middle of using a ouija board for fun with friends things get really weird really quick

word count: 2.0k

warnings: language, mentions of wine, a switchblade is mentioned a few times, demon possession 

authors note: fifth story!! of spooktober i hope you guys don’t mind i threw in one of my favorite kpop girlies, i love her so much. this is my first time in general really trying to write something “scary”, i hope i did well i didn’t want to overdo it! i hope you guys enjoy !

link to main masterlist

You, Hoseok, Jungkook and Nayeon stood outside the door leading to the basement of you and Hoseok’s shared house. Anxiety washed over your being and clung to you like a wet blanket. You couldn’t shake the fear that something bad was going to happen. Standing in the back of everything gave you a better view of everyone. Jungkook was dressed in all black (with the exception of his pink bunny slippers on his feet), Hoseok dressed in his pajamas and Nayeon dressed comfortably in an oversized shirt and joggers.

The impromptu “seance” that was about to be performed in the basement interrupted everyone. Nayeon and Hoseok who were in the middle of doing sheet masks and you in the kitchen pouring up refills of wine for everyone while Jungkook had disappeared moments before only to return with a ouija board.

Now here you were Jungkook with the ouija board tucked under one arm and his hand on the door knob waiting for everyone’s approval to open the door.

“Jungkook, why are we doing this?” Nayeon asked.

“Why not? Y/n and Hoseok say their house is haunted. What better time to investigate than at a slumber party with their friends? Especially during spooky season? The more the merrier!” He smiled.

“Our house isn’t haunted. Ghosts don’t exist, you clown. It’s probably old water pipes or some shit making all those weird noises.” You grumbled.

“Water pipes? Okay what about all the moaning Hoseok heard? Or the last time Nayeon was here and someone wrote in her lipstick on the bathroom mirror while she was showering?” Jungkook questioned. You sighed loudly to make a point on how exhausted you were with the back and forth discourse between you and Jungkook on whether or not the house was haunted.

“I feel like you want our house to be haunted.” you said.

“No but if it is you both need to get the hell out of dodge before shit starts getting real. The lipstick on the mirror would’ve been enough to send me flying out the house.”

“Same and I normally stay out of this whole ghost discussion but.. that’s really odd Y/n you can’t even lie.” Nayeon stated. You glanced over at Hoseok who was turned away from you, picking at the hem of his shirt. You and Hoseok had been living in your current home for three months and about two weeks into your stay things started getting extremely weird. From you finding him standing out on the balcony in the pouring rain, the weird arts and crafts figurines he would make and that one time you found him ready to take a bite out of a raw steak out the fridge.

But he passed that last one off as him being drunk.

You didn’t believe in ghosts or demons or really too much supernatural stuff. But the strange behaviors that Hoseok had been portraying alarmed you. You weren’t quite sure what exactly was going on. You hadn’t seen him smile in weeks and it was worrying.

“Fuck it. If we’re doing this can we go on and do it because I really wanna get back to my wine.” you whined. Jungkook opened the door, reaching for the light switch. Only to flick it and realize the light in the basement wasn’t working.

“How much weirder could this shit get.” you heard Jungkook mumble under his breath, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. You all slowly stepped down the stairs. Taking a look around the basement it was fairly empty except a pair of skis and other miscellaneous belongings split between you both.

Jungkook cleared a spot in the middle of the floor. The only light was from the small basement windows lining the walls.

“Do you not owe any candles or a lantern?” Jungkook asked.

“Hoseok has some of those boring non scented ones in the kitchen cabinet above the stove.” You glanced over at Nayeon who quickly started shaking her head and waving her hands.

“No. Hell no. Don’t make me go up there.”

“Nayeon please.”

“What if I run up there and then the spooky ghost haunting you gets me ?”

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. But like we haven’t been harmed yet.”

She stomped her feet. “If something happens I’m haunting everyone here.” Nayeon dashed up the steps. Hearing a little bit of shuffling before she came back carrying as many candles as she could.

“You’re lucky I remembered the lighter while I was up there because that trip wasn’t happening again.” You lit all of the candles before settling and sitting down. Hoseok, blank faced had already sat down as soon as you all made it down the steps scooted closer to you all.

“Alright let’s get it.” Jungkook took the ouija board out of its box, putting the planchette on the board. You eyes the box.

“A fucking ouija from mattel is supposed to potentially tell us if this house is haunted?” You questioned.

“Where did you get this from? Target?” Nayeon asked.

Jungkook sighed, scratching at the sides of his hair.

“And if I did? Where else would I get it from? Amazon? Jeff Bezos isn’t seeing a dime of my Starbucks checks” He scoffed “look I'm sure you know how this whole ouija thing is supposed to go. Just like in the movies two fingers on the planchette. We say hello and don’t finish until we say goodbye. No moving the planchette for fun. I will have a heart attack and Jeon Jungkook will no longer exist. Alright?” Jungkook stated. You and Nayeon nodded.

Placing your two fingers on the planchette, followed by everyone else. So it began.

“Hello. Hi spirits we have questions.” Jungkook said, looking around the room. Nayeon hit his arm. Jungkook gave a quizzical look.

“Is that really how you’re gonna ask the higher powers?” she asked.

“I don’t know how the fuck else to address them. Hi spirits. Are you there?” he questioned. You looked around the room, watching your friends facial expressions. The mild drunk feeling that was over you quickly made you sober up as the air seemed to get colder around you.

The planchette slowly started moving towards the top left corner, the small glass hovering above the “yes”.

“Before we continue. Is anyone fucking with me right now?” Jungkook mumbled.

“No I swear I’m not.” Nayeon stated.

“No.” You all looked at Hoseok who was staring at the board blank, as if he wasn’t looking at anything in the first place.

“I think he’s drunk. Maybe he had too much wine. You know he’s a lightweight.” Nayeon cracked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Hoseok lacked the permanent blush he seemed to have when he did drink too much. But the glossy look to his eyes still remained. You shrugged it off but the look he had was eerily similar to the one he had on the night you found him on the balcony.

“Ask another question, Jungkook.” you said.

“Okay umh. Let’s just get to it. Are there any spirits lingering in this house?” The temperature dropped, causing a slight shiver to escape Nayeon. The planchette jerked back and circled back around to “yes”.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Nayeon whispered. “Jungkook are you fucking with us?”

“What? No! I swear to the heavens I wouldn’t fuck with you guys on something like this! I’m not moving it.” he said, both sets of eyes laid on you.

“Now y’all both know good and well I don’t even believe in this shit why would I fuck with you with this?” You said, borderline offended at them.

“Because that’s what non believers always do.” Jungkook stated.

“I’m a non believer not an asshole. Keep asking it questions.” you grumbled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Is there anything you want from this house?” The planchette pushed back, before slowly moving back to yes. You started sweating and the basement getting chillier by the second didn’t help as you tried to resist the full body chill that threatened to shake through you.

“What do you want?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them. The planchette moved slow once again, going from letter to letter. You, Nayeon and Jungkook looked on.

H-O-S-E-O-K

You heard Nayeon gasp from the side of you. While your jaw just parted. Jungkook froze in his spot, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

“I don’t think I want to play this anymore.” Your eyes shot up to Hoseok, who looked at Jungkook with a wicked grin on his face.

“Uh Hobi. We can wrap up. But can you stop looking at me like that?” Jungkook said, a shake to his words.

Nayeon stared Hoseok down. “Something’s not right here.”

“What’s the matter, Nayeon? Aren’t we all playing a game?” Hoseok turned in her direction.

“Jungkook, wrap this shit up now.” You instructed, keeping your eyes on Hoseok. 

Before Jungkook could open his mouth, he suddenly flung backwards into the wall. The candles went out.

“I said I didn’t want to play anymore.” through the soft moonlight filtering through the windows you could see Hoseok stand up. You and Nayeon shuffled back against the wall. A few feet away from where Jungkook laid unconscious. Nayeon shuffled with her phone, the screen light illuminating her features. You could see the tears streaking her cheeks. The flashlight turned on shining on Hoseok; his soft brown eyes were now cold and empty, a black void.

“What the fuck are you?” Nayeon yelled, struggling to keep her cool.

“What do you think I am?” He questioned, stalking towards you.

“Stay the fuck away from us! I mean it!” You shouted. The fear you felt ran through your veins icy and cold. Making you want to curl up and wish the situation away.

Hoseok reached in his pocket, pulling out a small switchblade.

“I think it’s time to slice, I’m sorry I mean spice things up.”

You threw yourself in front of Nayeon, remaining firm despite her protests asking you to move.

“Aw isn’t this cute? You want to protect your friend.” Hoseok’s lips curved into his signature heart shaped smile. One that normally wanted your heart, filled you with even more dread than possible. That smile didn’t belong to him. It. Whatever was in your best friend.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, the smile dropping from his face as quick as it showed up. “I don’t even remember the last time I had friends.” He walked towards you and Nayeon, who’s hands gripped your shoulders. Preparing for the worst you closed your eyes.

Suddenly another voice filled the basement. You opened your eyes, there stood Jungkook your knight in shining armor. Well more like knight in plaid pajamas but attire was besides the point. You watched as Jungkook held his hands up muttering words in foreign language as Hoseok froze rigid, slowly lifting off the ground. The switchblade falling from his grip. A dark purple smoke escaped his mouth before shattering one of the glass windows. Hoseok’s body slumped to the ground and Jungkook dropped to his knees.

You got up running to Hoseok to check him out. Holding a finger up under his nose to feel soft air leave him. You draped yourself over him as he slowly stirred.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jung Hoseok never in your life get possessed by a demon again. I’ve never been more fucking scared before.”

Hoseok looked at you confused as he sat up, rubbing at his head.

“I don’t even know what’s going on. Last thing I remember was trying to figure out where to hang my jackets in my closet.” He said. That must mean he was possessed for a while. You frowned at the thought.

Jungkook and Nayeon walked over to you. Jungkook wiping his bloody nose on the back of his sleeve.

“You mind sharing where you learned that neat little trick?” You asked.

“My grandfather is a priest. Stuff like that kinda runs in the family.” Jungkook tilted his head back pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Am I going to be fine?” Hoseok asked, fear laced in his words.

“Yeah you might just not remember the past few months. But that demon is gone. Sent back to where the foul bastard came from.” Jungkook said.

“I am literally never spending the night here ever again. Not even for a million dollars.” Nayeon said.

“That’s a lie you’ll be back.” You chuckled.

“Make it two and maybe I will.” She smiled.