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#if anybody ever talks to me and i accidentally say something like that IT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT i just sometimes say words
ghost-bxrd · 9 months
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okay so this is an idea I’ve seen brought up maybe once before, but maybe Jason (before the Bats find out who he is) accidentally lets something slip that makes them realize that he’s literally, like, a child (seventeen, sixteen, I’m not sure how old he is at that point exactly, but either works)
and Bruce “adoption addiction” Wayne promptly looks at this obviously traumatized teenager and decides that he should adopt Red Hood.
I just think Jason would be so confused (maybe a little pissed too)
I’ve touched on that a little bit in What you’re longing for (you claim to abhor)!
I think this trope is wayyy underrated. Like, Jason is still so, so young. Basically a child. Even if he died at sixteen and then spent two years with the league (even if we’re counting the time he spent dead as aging). He’s barely even legal when he returns to Gotham. Or if we’re being generous let’s say he’s nineteen.
Doesn’t matter, he’s barely out of his teens (maybe he’s still IN his teens if you bend the timeline of your fic a little) and he’s experienced horrors that would have most people become utterly unable to function. But Jason? That boy takes his trauma and channels it into anger. Which, not exactly healthy, but well.
Anyway, getting off topic:
YES. Jason is still basically a kid when he debuts as the Red Hood, and you know what else he is? A good boy who’s not gonna touch any alcohol until he’s officially 21.
“But why would he do that? He grew up in Crime Alley! Ain’t nobody got time for age limitations!”
Hear me out! Let’s assume he grew up in a household where his father, Willis Todd, drank quite a lot on the regular in addition to his mom’s addiction. Jason experienced the aftermath of this (perhaps domestic violence?) every time his dad returned from a job/jail and he grew to loathe any and all substances, including alcohol. Knowing Jason and his convictions it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume he’d never touch a single drop of alcohol at all.
So that’s one way he could slip up while taking to his goons (and having the bats overhear) or even straight up talking to one of them where maybe Dick banters a bit and goes “Hey, perhaps you should chill out a bit. Have a drink maybe” and Jason just instinctively goes “Fuck you Dickwing, I’m seventeen/eighteen/nineteen! I’m not allowed to drink!”
And Dick just— bluescreens. And immediately goes to tell Bruce, obviously.
OR
The Bats assume Jason is this old guy (Bruce’s or Drathstroke’s age maybe) and consequently they keep alluding to things that happened way before Jason was ever even born and at first he’s so? Confused??? But eventually it just gets really annoying and eventually he just— snaps.
“How the fuck would I know which Nokia gen hit the market that year? I was born in fuckin’ XXXX, I’m an iPhone kid!”
“Stop referencing the Cold War dipshit, I’m fucking seventeen! I’m glad I remember my own damn birthday!”
“I don’t know, I was like— two back then.”
Bruce, obviously, would take .1 seconds to realize:
“Omg. That’s- that’s a whole child. That’s a whole damn TRAUMATIZED child, killing people and sawing off heads. Omg someone must have hurt him so bad. Don’t worry tho, son, Batman’s got you. You won’t have to hurt anybody ever again. We’re here for you. Would you like the room next to Tim’s or Dick’s?”
Meanwhile Jason: “what the fuck”
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barcaatthemoon · 3 months
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green whistle || sydney lohmann x reader ||
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sydney gets hurt in practice and accidentally outs your relationship when given a green whistle.
the worst part of your job was having to see the players go down. you absolutely loved being a trainer, and when you were finished with your studies, you were excited to be a sports doctor. still, you had become close friends with the players and you hated having to be the one who told them how long they'd be out for when they got hurt. your least favorite was sydney, it killed you to see such a sad look on your girlfriend's face.
you had been working on some paperwork concerning the girls' physicals whenever sydney was rushed in. with all of the commotion, you would have thought that someone broke something. you rushed out of the office with urgency to see your girlfriend being partially dragged in by two of her teammates with a green whistle in her mouth.
"baby!" sydney exclaimed, dropping the whistle immediately. she tried to move out of the grasps of the other girls, but they held on tightly. "let me go, i want (y/n). she's pretty and gentle with me and gives me the sweetest kisses."
"why would (y/n) be kissing you of all people?" lea asked. it was a pretty poorly kept secret that you and sydney were seeing each other. however, the team was very respectful in not bringing it up until one of you did first. that did not mean that lea wouldn't tease sydney about how she constantly stared at you with a disgustingly lovesick look.
"because she's my girlfriend, duh! yeah, that's right, i got the very cute trainer girl's number. remember when you and georgia said i couldn't, well i did!" sydney shouted. your cheeks were red with embarrassment as sydney continued. it was fairly safe, mostly just about how cute she thought you were.
"quiet, and sit still for me," you told her. sydney promptly snapped her mouth shut and sat up straight in front of you. you checked her out and patched her up, glad that it was nothing more than a bit of muscle strain. it felt pretty bad, but wouldn't need anything more than maybe a week or two of rest. "you can rest here for the rest of practice, and before we leave i'll get you something if you're still in pain."
"you're so good at your job," sydney said as you taped her up. you glanced up at her to find her staring at you. lea and georgia looked a bit uncomfortable, but neither of them made a move to leave. "i'm so proud of you. i love you, liebe."
"i love you too." you stood up and pressed a quick kiss to sydney's lips. this time, georgia did turn away from the two of you, but lea didn't move. you watched sydney try to kick at her for fake gagging. "can i talk to the two of you for a moment?"
"we won't say anything if that's what you're scared of," lea promised you. you nodded, greatly appreciating that they already knew that you wanted to talk about. "you guys are cute together. everyone would be supportive if you did want to be open about with us."
"i'm not sure that it would matter. neither one of you seemed phased earlier," you pointed out.
"don't take this the wrong way, but you guys are not subtle. it's like neither of you were born with a subtle bone in your bodies," georgia told you. you chuckled at that, having known that sydney wasn't subtle, but never thinking that you were just as bad. it made sense, even if you weren't overly thrilled about the news that everybody had caught you openly checking your girlfriend out.
"it's cute though, don't worry!" lea reassured you. "all of us really care about syd, and i haven't seen her so happy with anybody else before. just know that sooner or later, you'll get the talk from the national team."
"as if she'd ever let them threaten me," you scoffed. sydney was off in her own little world on the bench, but you knew how protective your girlfriend was. there was no way she'd let more than one or two members of the national team whisk you away for a shovel talk.
"(y/n) has a point. remember when tod went to shout at (y/n)? surprised that he came around the next practice," georgia said. lea laughed at the memory of your girlfriend tearing into the senior medical trainer. you wouldn't have called what tod was doing shouting, but it was enough to have lea run at him from halfway across the pitch.
"liebe!" sydney whined as she reached out for you. georgia and lea took that as their cue to leave. you turned around to see her laying outstretched on the bench as she reached out towards you. her hand made a little grabbing motion over and over again until you walked over so she could grab you. immediately, sydney latched onto you with her arms around your hips as you ran a hand through her hair. "that's better, i missed you."
"yeah? i missed you too," you said softly. sydney fell asleep after barely three minutes of your fingers running through her hair. you went back to the office, but left a hoodie for sydney to cuddle up with while you finished work.
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rucksackmentality · 10 months
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List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):
Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.
Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.
Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.
Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.
FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!
Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.
Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.
Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)
Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.
FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.
Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.
Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.
Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!
Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.
Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.
FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?
Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!
Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.
Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.
Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.
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yandere-class-1a · 10 months
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Also can you do normal yandere class 1a head canons if that's ok? (and can u add mic and aizawa)
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to complete this ask, I got burned out about halfway through and needed to take a little break. I hope you like them though! I wasn't exactly sure how you wanted me to do them so I did all of class 1-A (+ platonic Aizawa and Mic) separately, they do have some connections in them though. There are a lot of words (3,895 to be exact) so I'm gonna be adding a read more button.
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Shoji is absolutely the type of yandere to try and protect you from the bad in the world. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong he will turn into a big guard dog. He wraps you up in his arms and death glares at the person that looked at you funny. If you comment on it he will turn back into the big teddy bear that you know and love. He will not limit your internet access but you bet he will watch over you if you look up triggering or problematic things for your mental health. He won't restrict it but he will have a big talk with you about how it's better to consume positive media instead of negative media. He loves to cuddle you with all his arms, and it's absolutely heavenly. He might be the tallest in class, but no way does this man not like being the little spoon. He loves feeling you wrapped around him actually a little bit more than him being wrapped around you, he just loves the comfort you give him.
Koda is absolutely a cinnamon roll yandere. He doesn't want to hurt you or anybody else for that matter. He feels like the type of yandere to worship the very ground you walk on. If you give him a gift he will put it on a special shelf and cherish it forever. Once he accidentally forgot to put it up on his shelf and one of his animal friends accidentally broke it, he cried for hours until you managed to calm him down. Whenever you can't sleep Koda will send over a bird with a beautiful song to lull you to sleep. If you confront him about it he will try and deny it at first but end up cracking under your gaze. He tells you how he just wants to make sure you get a good amount of sleep, he didn't mean to upset you. If you aren't angry at him he will be so happy, if you are he will honestly turn into the poutiest baby you've ever seen.
Sato is the type of yandere to give you anything and everything you want, especially if it's something to do with baking. He and you probably have a designated day to bake at least one thing. If you don't feel like baking that day Sato will definitely sit you up on the counter and just talk to you well he bakes. If you love to lick the spoon he will definitely bakes the batter specially without eggs so you can eat as much of it as you want. He might look big and scary to some people but he is actually a absolute sweetheart. If you get tired from walking, even just a little bit, Sato will pick you up and cradle you like a baby so you don't have to walk. He feels like the type of boyfriend that will give you his shoes if yours are hurting your feet. Either that or he will carry around a extra pair of shoes in his bag. He doesn't care what people think when he does stuff for you, your his precious angel and he's willing to do anything for you.
Ida's obsession with you stems from a deep-rooted sense of duty and responsibility. He becomes fixated on protecting you at all costs, believing it's his duty to keep you safe, even if it means resorting to extreme measures. Now Ida does not want to hurt anyone, however if they were to hurt you then he most definitely would be willing to bend his morality a little bit. He is smart enough to do full background checks on anyone close to you and is willing to use that against them if they try and hurt you. He will have Aizawa set up security cameras all throughout the dorms saying he wants to protect his classmates as class representative. He does use the cameras for that, however he mostly uses them to keep tabs on you. On a side note he keeps the kitchen stashed with all your favorite foods so you never go hungry.
Sero is the type of yandere to be possessive of you but still lets you have friends (He definitely doesn't have Ida run background checks on them or anything like that... oh who am I kidding he most definitely does). He will definitely get close to all your friends and family if you want. If someone you grew up with shows him your baby pictures you he will definitely internally fan boy. He has a pretty laid back attitude, so he's not super controlling or manipulative. However this man definitely makes up for it with his obsessive ways. He will definitely want to do the spiderman kiss at some point or another, once you start dating it happens all the time. ⚠️Next part of Sero's headcanons continues slightly suggestive things, just thoughts and not actually doing anything⚠️ He's best friends with denki so we can guarantee he's at least a little bit of a pervert, at least to you. He would love to either see you shirtless or in a sports bra depending on your gender. He knows you're not ready for the next step so he's not gonna force you, for now he's fine with just resting his head on your chest or sitting you on his lap.
Todoroki is the type of yandere to be so obsessive for you that it hurts his heart to not be with you. He can be so possessive sometimes that he'll lock the two of you in a room and hide the key. He knows it's a bit over the top, he just can't help it. To him you are a living breathing God, you are so amazing that he just has to be next to you. However he does know that you might try and grow distant if he gets too possessive... To make up for this he tries to be as lenient with you as possible in most things. He will definitely stalk you, but he's pretty open about it. He will be like "He darling! You went to the ice cream shop yesterday and left your notebook. Don't worry though, I picked it up for you". Him and the class decide that kidnapping was out of the question... but sleepovers with the class that "accidentally" last for a week aren't uncommon. Todoroki will invite you over to his dorm all the time, sometimes just to cuddle. He desperately craves physical affection... Please give him some.
Momo is one of the yanderes with more common sense. She makes sure to match how fast she eases you into her yandere tendencies and how well you take them. If your reactions are on the more positive side she will move up a few levels in about two to three weeks. However if you seem uncomfortable she will ease them onto you slowly, conditioning you so it all feels normal. She feels like the type of yandere to invite you with her instead of stalking you, though she's not against it either. Like if she goes to the Mall or even the Library she will definitely invite you. If you don't really want to go she will tell you that you can get your favorite food or stop at your favorite place on the way. If she goes shopping by herself you can 100% guarantee that she returns with at least two gifts for you. If you go shopping with her however you both will definitely come back with bags full of gifts.
Bakugo is on the extremely possessive yandere side. He used to want you to be only his, but after a lot of convincing from the class he realized that they all loved you as much as him so maybe just maybe they could share you. He still can't be in the same room when Izuku's or Todoroki are being lovey with you though, he's working on it though. He used to call you only his and use words like my darling, now he calls you the only theirs and names like our darling. If anyone that isn't in class 1-A gets too close to you, even simple things like brushing against you in the hallways, he will quickly and without thinking grab your hand and not let go until he feels better. Bakugo here is definitely not shy about pda (public display of affection). He will hug and kiss you all he wants no matter where you are, though it's a bit more rough out in public to keep up his tough boy appearance.
Kirishima is the type of yandere to obsess over every little thing you do. He notices every little detail about you and points them out to other classmates. Like one day you came into class and Kirishima just casually tells the bakusquad that your breath smells slightly different than it normally does, probably because you ran out of your favorite scented toothpaste and had to replace it with your second favorite. They all looked at him funny. Not because of the obsessive sound of that sentence, but because he somehow managed to notice something that no one else did. The minute you walk into the room Kirishima's eyes find you. He can somehow keep a good conversation with a person well-watching. He is always telling you how manly you are, even for the littlest things. He is almost constantly wanting to give you affection. His affection ranges from quick kisses on the nose to cuddling for hours. He wants to wash you in the bath soooo badly. Not in a perverted way of course! He just wants to take care of you, you're his darling after all! He would have Momo make a bathing suit to cover up your privates so he could even just wash your hair for you.
Ojiro is the type of yandere who literally just wants to take care of you. He will buy you whatever snacks you want, no matter how hard they are to find. He hates to see you sad so he will almost always have a funny or cute video saved on his phone to cheer you up. He honestly buys the most thoughtful gifts in all of class 1-A. He will teach you martial arts if you ask him to, though he's absolutely gonna baby you if you get hurt during training. He likes when you play with his tail. He will definitely wrap his tail around you while you're both sitting down. He is extremely shy about telling you his love for you. Him and Koda can sit together for hours and just talk about you, but when it comes to actually telling you about it he gets all shy. He once managed to get out the words I like you but before you could even respond he tried to cover it up with a like a friend.
Aoyama is the type of yandere to constantly compliment you and not be shy about his obsession. He loves to do Mini fashion shows for himself and You. He will invite the whole class and they all show up. Bakugo might take a bit more convincing but he cracks when Aoyama shows him one of the dresses/suits you will be wearing. If your having a self conscious day where you don't like something about yourself fo to Ayoama. He is always ready with a list of things he loves about you. The list doesn't have only things about your body either... It has little habits you do, your tone of voice, your passions, your different styles, your personality, ect. He is always ready to make you any type of clothes you want. He can make the comfiest bra's and/or panties if your comfortable with that. He knows how to make binders and breast forms for trangender darlings as well. He gives you your favorite type of cheese randomly, and if you don't like the taste of cheese he buys cheese scented candles for you.
Denki is the type of yandere to follow you around like a lost puppy. He is super duper protective of you to the point that he will do his best to remove anyone and anything that has the potential to harm you. At some point you got a splinter in your foot and this boy convinced everyone that soft carpeted floors were a necessity to have in the dorms. He may not be good at numbers or other academic things, however he is amazing with people. He would never hurt you, that includes manipulating you, but he'a not above manipulating other people. Half the time nobody even notices he's manipulating them, and if they do, Denki will manipulate them more to think it's all in their head. Denki is a naturally cuddly person so cuddle sessions are a must have. If you ask him for cuddles he will drop everything he's doing and cuddle you. He isn't the type to get jealous cause he knows you love class 1-A and only them romantically. He is more the type to get to show the other person that you belong to him.
Izuku is the type to know everything about you, even things you don't know. Izuku definitely has at least 3 notebooks full of all your information. The first one starts of pretty standard, just your name and quirk, same as everyone else. It then gets more in detail about your quirk until it's basically entirely explained as far as to your family tree to compare the quirks to your own. It then sorta just kept on going from there. He definitely has a secret shrine to you. It has little things like pens that you left behind up to pictures of you at all times of the day. He keeps it hidden in a locked drawer so no one can find out about it. He’s a huge stalker. He almost always knows where you are and when he doesn't he panics and searches the entire city for you. He likes to watch you sleep secretly, only for about half an hour though.
Mina is the classic type of stalker that watches you from a tree. She will absolutely positively have a wall covered with photos of you in her room. Now she's not a complete idiot, so she buys a pretty tapestry and covers up the pictures with it. She is super bubbly and friendly so she has no problem talking to you. She will listen to you talk about something you love for hours if it would make you happy! Of course if you preferred to listen she has tons of stories to tell you, even if she might bend them a little bit to make herself sound more amazing. She definitely sends you good morning and good night texts, just not at normal times. Her good morning texts range from 4:00 in the morning to 12:00 noon. Her good night texts are around 10:00 in the nighttime to 2:00 in the morning. She definitely posts all about you on her social media's. If your not comfortable with pictures she will just post all about how amazing and beautiful/handsome you are. If someone says something like "Oooo what's their number" or "I bet I could date them" Mina will instantly block them. If they something more, suggestive to straight up filthy, Mina will not hesitate to break their online profile. She has a passion for coding and knows how to hack into accounts without leaving a trail.
Tokoyami is the type of edgy but soft yandere. Tokoyami loves it when you listen to his poetry. He could go on for hours with edgy (yet very cute) poetics about how you are his beautiful Shining star. Darkshadow also likes to talk to you. However theirs are more asking you questions and listening to your answer so they can store it in their mind. Tokoyami is really shy when it comes to physical affection, Dark Shadow is definitely not though. Tokoyami will be sitting next to you in the common room and Dark shadow will just pop up and be like "Tokoyami wants to hold your hand but he's too scared to ask". Tokoyami isn't that great with speaking words, mostly prefering to write instead. He will write cute little notes for you and leave them on your desk. He makes handmade black envelopes and seals them with a red wax stamp. Dark shadow likes to put little random questions at the back of the card, like what's your favorite color or do you have any pets. Dark shadow likes to write in pretty pink glittery gel pens just to mess with Tokoyami.
Uraraka is the type of yandere to be so caring that you hardly see the obsessiveness because you're too happy from all the love she gives you. But let me tell you that the obsessiveness is 100% there. She's very careful that nothing can hurt you. If you do somehow manage to get hurt she will take care of the wound extremely tenderly. It could range from a splinter to a broken leg, it doesn't matter because she treats you so sweetly it's impossible to top it. At times she will become quite clingy, wanting cuddles and kisses galore. If your just not a touchy person or maybe you don't like skin on skin contact she will try and back off. However she needs some type of contact or she gets super pouty and sometimes depressed. If you want to bring her out of this state all you have to do is link your pinkies. It's not much but it makes her super happy that you're even touching her. Be careful as when her emotions get super high her quirk gets out of control and you might float up to the ceiling.
Jiro is like the edgy to everyone except you girlfriend. Once you found a cute and fluffy pink key chain and gave it to her. She paused for a second and you panicked thinking you messed up. When you offered to take it back she snapped out of it and hugged it to her chest tightly. She gently smiled at you and said she absolutely loved it. After that she placed it on her bookbag and hasn't taken it off since. She is super flirty to you but if you so much as say she looks pretty she will turn into a blushing mess and not be able to look at you for at least 10 minutes. If you ask her to teach you and instrument she will absolutely agree. If you are a slow learner it's ok, She has all the patience in the world for you. If you learn quickly she will eventually start playing musica with you. It doesn't matter what type of music you like she definitely has a playlist of all your favorite songs that she listens to when she misses you.
Hagakure is definitely the type of yandere to stalk you any chance she gets. She would have major problems approaching you cause she thinks you're too good for her. She honestly thinks that you are absolutely one of the most perfect beings in the universe. Her quirk literally makes her invisible so she could stand directly next to you and you would never know. It may sound a bit creepy, and she is well aware of this, but she likes to watch you sleep. She loves how peaceful you look when you're having a good dream. If you were to sleep walk/sleep talk she will let you do whatever it is you do as she finds it adorable. If she thinks you might hurt yourself in your sleep she will gently lead you back to bed and tuck you in tightly. She will sometimes follow you for hours. When people ask her what she likes to do her reponse is "being with y/n". It sounds normal enough to not cause suspicion but it's still the truth, she does love being with you! You just Don't know she's there most of the time...
Tsu is the type of yandere to be extremely sweet to almost everyone but if they so much as look at you wrong that switch flips fast. So basically Tsu is overprotective central. She will protect you from any harm that comes your way. She has a dead serious glare that is honestly scarrier that original Bakugo. She loves to cuddle up next to you in the sunshine on a warm day. She doesn't like intense heat but she loves sunlight. She will curl up next to the pool and just sunbathe with you if you want. If you love swimming she will take you swimming all the time. She uses her excuse of being able to breath under water as a way to kiss you. Let me explain, she will press your lips together and blow air into your mouth so you can stay underwater with her. She will 100% take selfies with you any chance she gets. She actually has a locked folder on her phone called 🐸 ~ My Darling ~ 🐸 with over 500 pictures of you.
Aizawa is like a father type yandere to you. He's gonna be super duper protective of you. If a villain tries to attack you while your in class (because Class 1-A is just a villain attack magnet) you’re the first one he thinks about protecting. He knows it's wrong to have a favorite student but he just can't help it. Your just such an amazing person to him how could he not favorite you?! He absolutely is not afraid to show his favoritism to anyone. If Nezu comments on it aizawa will just be like "What are you gonna do, fire me? Who else would be willing to take care of those problems children?". If you accidentally mess something up he will just simply forgive you and tell you it's ok. Like once you and denki had a sleepover and forgot to do homework... Denki had to do 10 laps around the field and you got asked if you needed help on any of the questions. He definitely teaches you privately different skills that aren't related to your quirk.
Present Mic is like an extremely proud father. At any game or contest that he announces he scream out praise at every little thing you do. He's been asked about it before and his answer was just pure confusion. He doesn't understand that he might be focusing more on you than the actual thing he's supposed to be announcing, he just thinks that you're doing amazing and wants everyone to know. Mic is extremely handsy with you, of course in a fatherly type of way. He will often be seen with some type of contact with you. He will pat your back, ruffle your hair, hold your hand in crowded areas, ect. He will hangout with you and Aizawa in your dorm room as you all take turns picking a song to listen to. If you really like a certain band or singer Mic will get you both tickets to one of their concerts.
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bubblybloob · 8 months
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I dare you to draw smitten with either cold or the beast, you pick.
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This is because I said I hadn’t gotten many asks for the Smitten, huh?
This might actually be a bit more Cold focused, long thing I wrote below.
There were fights, a lot of fights, actually. How could there not be? Eleven voices given form, only to be cramped back into one space. At least this time it was a house, not a body.
It wasn’t a bad thing, far from it; Hero wagers most were thankful for the permanent, familiar company, while the rest indifferent. Hero himself quite enjoys chatting or playing games with the others, it isn’t uncommon for him to seek out one of the voices simply so his stirring thoughts can have an outlet.
However, sometimes the others don’t click. Usually it was fine- Broken, Hunted and Contrarian seldom got physical. Opportunist and Paranoid might if they felt strongly enough about something to throw away their pretenses or fear, but they weren’t often the issue.
The rest tended to jump to bold accusations and wild conclusions, looked forward to it even. Skeptic occasionally found himself going from relatively mundane quarrels to all out brawls from causing accidental offense. Stubborn and Cheated had a tendency to get too excited about coming out on top in one way or another, and the other two…
Sometimes it felt like they only ever fought each other.
Okay, that was lie, Cold purposely ruffled the other’s feathers out of pure boredom. Hero wondered if he had made up some sort of challenge to see if he could get the non confrontational voices riled up for a fight, given how often he pushed their buttons. Once he flat out punched Contrarian in the face just to see if he’d retaliate.
If Cold couldn’t get them to crack he’d sigh with something akin to dejection and approach someone like Cheated, maybe Stubborn if he was feeling risky- pretty much anyone with a shorter fuse so he could get some form of thrill.
But they weren’t his go to, that would be- of course- Smitten.
“You vile, wretched thing! I won’t hear another word of nonsense out of you. Begone! Foul creature!”
“Call me all the names you like, you won’t get the response you’re looking for.”
It happened just about every other day: Cold would say something off putting, Smitten would respond with something that would offend anybody else, a bit of snarky back and forth later, and suddenly hands were being thrown.
“What are they arguing about this time?” Cheated grumbled, coming up to stand beside Hero, whose eyes were encircled by dark shadows.
“I ‘dunno, woke up to them yapping at each other, or at least Smitten’s yapping, I don’t think Cold has ever raised his voice.” Hero yawned out, scratching at his horn tuft.
“With how often those two are at each others throats, I think we should count ourselves lucky one is so soft spoken.” Cheated stretched his arms and body upwards, his wings instinctively snapping outwards and flapping as he tried to relieve his muscles. The large wings smacked Hero’s side as he did, which had the heroic voice stumbling backwards as Cheated mumbled a small “sorry” out.
“It’s fine. I think it’s less that he’s soft spoken and more that he’s sharp spoken. He talks like he knows where all your vitals are.” Hero responds, shivering at his own words.
Cheated shrugs. “Probably does, he’s our resident freak after all.”
“How is it then that you feel nothing? Without feeling one will rot away, yet you’re still here.” Seems Hero had missed part of drama during his and Cheated’s little chat. Smitten had now grabbed Cold by the chest feathers and was looking ready to tear into him.
“Who knows, really? Maybe I’m like a ghost, haunting the remains that our godly self expelled. Or maybe we simply can’t die, I haven’t eaten in a while.” Cold replies with a sharp whistle.
“Ooo, he shouldn’t be so candid about saying that out loud, never know when Hunted’s listening.” Cheated says behind a wicked smile. No doubt the avian had tucked the information away for blackmail, or to get a favor from Opportunist, who also found a new joy in digging up dirt on the others for his own benefit.
Hero was about to step in at this point. Smitten looked ready to let loose, and Cold seemed to be passively soaking in the drama of it all. But before Hero could open his mouth, Smitten’s hold relaxed, and his head hung low.
“No, I see through your tricks, scum. I will not loose myself to anger over frivolous things such as this. Leave, now, I must prepare myself for the morning time.” Smitten let’s go of Cold’s feathers, which were not bunched together and frayed. Cold hums something tired.
“Weak willed of you, can’t approach her killer?” Cold tilts his head.
A flinch. “I know what you’re doing, I won’t fall for it this time, villain!” Smitten whips around, and goes to walk from the conflict.
Cold’s wry smile falls flat on his face, he turns his head toward Cheated.
“Not today pal, Paranoid seemed extra twitchy though, probably didn’t get much sleep. It’s still early and he isn’t fully alert in his head, might be able to start something up with him if you push hard enough.” Cheated suggests. Hero punches him in the arm, just when he thought there would be no morning fight to put down.
Cold’s brow raises, evidently interested in a fight with someone who rarely raised his hands. He moves past the two, already on the prowl for their jumpiest member.
“Troop on, you emotionless fuck- ow, stop that!” Cheated yelps when Hero punches him again, this time a little harder.
Cheated’s words seemed to have stopped Smitten in his tracks however, he mutters something to himself, and whips back around. “You can’t be as dispassionate as you claim! You’re merely afraid of your own feelings!”
The accusation makes the Cold stop dead. His expression is hidden, but Hero swears he sees his feathers puff out. He expects them to quickly flatten back down.
But they don’t.
Cold slowly turns the upper half of his body, his face looks… almost strained. His composure had finally cracked.
“Hmm?” He darkly hums. It’s an oddly moderate response, given how Cold takes any and all opportunities to tease whomever he talks to, especially for outlandish claims such as this.
They were outlandish… weren’t they?
Hero had a bad feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t explain.
“I’m right.” Smitten looks a little surprised, before a damn near elated expression creeps onto his face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Cold doesn’t respond, still half turned to leave. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t swayed in the past ten seconds. Hero wonders if he was still breathing.
“You aren’t unfeeling at all, are you? You’re full of emotion! What’s is it then that makes you push them under the deep, dark waves of the heart? Fear? Want? …Guilt? I can guess what it’s for.” Smitten continues with his theory, the Cold still hasn’t retaliated.
“Ooo, might be onto something there, Smitty.” Chester looks almost excited as he says this. His words seem to encourage Smitten further, who puffs up under the praise.
Cold stands there.
“Go on then, tell us the harsh truth, fiend. You’re no emotionless husk.” Smitten moves closer and closer to Cold’s position. Hero wonders if he should put himself between the two, but he can’t say he isn’t interested to where this is going.
Smitten stands face to face with his Cold counterpart. Hero swears Cold shrinks back under the close attention.
“You’re afraid.”
For a moment, they stand there, a stare down. Hero briefly hears the faint phantom sounds of glass breaking under the weight of godhood.
In a blink Cold draws his arm back, and his fist connects to Smitten cheek.
WoooOooO cliffhanger that might never keep going.
I’m unsure if this is common theory or whatnot, but I’ve not for a moment believed Cold was emotionless. I think he’s hurt by what’s happened to him, so much so that he thinks being emotionless, acting only to entertain will bring him some form of twisted comfort.
I think he’s too afraid to let himself feel, so he pushes his feelings far, far down, and pretends he feels nothing. He’s so good at it that he believes it to be true.
He’s so good at ignoring both physical and mental feeling that he himself believes he is nothing but a thrill seeker. In reality, his emotions, his physical needs, it all hurt him, so he squashes both.
Think about it, you usually get him by killing the princess in cold blood, and then subsequently stabbing yourself. Both hurt him. He only knows hurt from both, so he throws them aside.
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lifeontoast · 10 months
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Yule Ball
Cedric Diggory x reader
A Harry Potter Advent special for you! Enjoy! Also this is really cliché and cheesy but oh well! (by the way both Cedric and reader are 7th years)
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The Yule Ball. Quite possibly the most hotly anticipated date in the school calendar. And you had nobody to go with.
All your friends had been asked, as they told you excitedly in late-night dorm room gossip sessions. You couldn't help but sigh with jealousy, even though you smiled and said you were happy for them. You never got any attention from anybody, and you kind of liked it that way, until this whole Yule Ball business got started. The announcement at the start of the year had got everybody excited, yourself included, but as time went on you grew rather fed up of hearing about it every five minutes. After half-term it got unbearable. Everybody talked about what dresses they were wearing, what shoes they had bought, accessories… it went on and on and on.
If you had to pick somebody to go with, it would be Cedric Diggory. But he’d already be going with someone, there was no way someone like him didn't have a date already.
You’d liked him ever since first year, since that time that your hands accidentally touched in potions, over some sliced Dragon skin. You’d never forgotten it, but you assumed that he had. But… recently, you’ve been catching him looking at you as you pass him in the corridor, more than what would be normal for such an interaction. It was like he was looking for you, actively seeking you out. It was so bizarre that you just couldn't fathom it. Hogwarts’ golden boy was looking at you? (not that it wasn’t warranted, you’re absolutely gorgeous) You shared a DADA class, and it was so weird… you could’ve sworn he spent more time trying to stare at you discreetly than listening to the professor. He was distracting you by doing absolutely nothing at all, and it finally came to a head when the professor asked you a question you couldn’t answer. He just blushed and said you didn’t know, earning you a, frankly, withering look.
You tripped through the rest of the day, confused, until you felt a hand on your shoulder after the end of school, when you were just about to head to your common room. You looked around, and it was Cedric.
‘Y/N… I have something to ask you.’ he said softly, looking into your eyes. He was displaying a rare moment of vulnerability! You stared back at him, too shocked to say anything. He took it as a sign to continue.
‘Listen… I know this is probably a long shot, but would you like to… come to the ball with me?’
Your heart started beating at an alarming pace. You felt sure that he could hear it. Did he really just ask you that? To go to the ball with him? You almost fainted. Before you could do anything silly, you nodded emphatically, a huge grin plastered on your face. He reciprocated it, making your already-madly-beating heart melt.
So that was it. You did have someone to go with after all! Now all of your friend’s boasting made total sense. You wanted to go and scream it out from the Astronomy tower:
I’M GOING TO THE BALL WITH CEDRIC DIGGORY!
But you didn’t. Obviously.
TIMESKIP: THE EVENING OF THE YULE BALL
Tonight’s the night! You had bought your outfit, your shoes, and all the various detritus that comes with an evening out. The weeks following Cedric’s asking you out were nothing like you had ever experienced before. You found him asking you every day how you were, how school was, what your workload was like, etcetera. But he was asking you to actually spend time with him, something you’d never been asked to do before. It was like a dream. Being with Cedric was just so easy - you found out who he really was, outside of his golden-boy persona. He was so lovely, and charming too, and it wasn’t hard to start catching feelings for him. Not that that was any bad thing, of course.
Nobody did much work at school that day, all were too busy dreaming about the night ahead of them. You would not be ashamed to admit that you were among them. The teachers gave you all knowing looks and didn’t set any homework, knowing what you’d all be up to the instant school was finished for the day. It turned out that they were correct: straight after potions, you shot to the common room at lightning speed, opening the door of your dorm to all your giggling friends, already drunk on the party atmosphere of the party that wouldn’t start for hours.
It continued as the hours passed and you all got ready, laughing and smiling. You were genuinely really looking forward to it, more than you thought you would. Most of all, you were excited to see Cedric and spend the night with him. Hair done, outfit on, shoes on, you looked an absolute picture. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t really believe it was you. All your friends looked similarly stunning, and marvelled at your ethereal beauty. After that, well, it was time. Descending your dorm room stairs like a host of heavenly angels, everyone in the common room turned their gaze to you. Some of the girls paired off with their dates in the same house, and some of them walked off to meet theirs elsewhere.
Cedric was nowhere to be found, and you grew anxious. Your friends reassured you and told you that he was probably waiting for you at the ball. You nodded, took a deep breath, and headed towards the Great Hall. it wasn’t an easy task in your shoes, but you managed well enough, until you saw the stairs. You decided to stand regally at the top of the staircase for a moment, like royalty surveying their kingdom, to delay your descent. You glanced around worriedly, looking for your date. The hall was decorated immaculately; stars twinkling where the ceiling would be, snow on the white floor, glittering silver tinsel and baubles everywhere the eye could see.
Like a charm, Cedric was standing at the bottom of the large staircase, just staring at you, open-mouthed. He himself looked striking in a black tuxedo and dress robes, his white bow tie tied perfectly. His stunned face gave you the encouragement you needed to start descending the stairs, almost gliding, in fact. You reached him, and he finally recovered.
‘Y/N… I can’t believe this. You look absolutely stunning.’ he said, taking your hand and placing a kiss upon it.
‘Well, Cecric, it has to be said, you do clean up pretty well.’ you quipped back. ‘But seriously, you look fantastic. Really handsome.’ you added quietly, blushing a little. It was true! He really did look amazing, like your very own Prince Charming.
He offered you his arm, smiling, and led you into the hall. He chatted to you whilst you got drinks, and you stood together at the side of the room, sipping on wonderfully fruity mocktails. After a while, he threw you a smirk and held out his hand. You knew what came next. Dancing with Cedric Diggory! You never thought you’d see the day.
Just as you made your way to the dance floor, the up-tempo tune changed to a slow waltz. You’d been dreading a situation like this; luckily, Cedric knew what to do. He held you close, arms around you, and gently pulled you along with him. Eventually, you found the beat and your feet just moved themselves. Once you didn’t have to put all your focus on not tripping over, this dancing business was actually rather enjoyable! You looked up at him for the first time, your eyes locking instantly. He was a much better view than your shoes. You held his gaze throughout the whole rest of the song, and even when it finished, you just stood there, looking at each other.
You finally broke your trance, noticing that the waltz had been replaced with a fast-paced number. The change was almost painful. Once again, Cedric knew exactly what to do; it was like he’d been practising (he probably had been, just to impress you). He held your hands and you jumped around together, attracting the most scathing looks, but for once in your life not caring in the slightest.
And so it carried on that way, hour after precious hour, changing how you danced with each new song. From crazy jigging to Viennese waltzing, you did it all.
Finally, at the end of the evening, he tucked your arm in his and walked you back to your common room, leaving you with a soft kiss on the cheek to remember the night by. You couldn’t sleep that night; your head was filled with the technicolour whirlwind of an evening. Of course, you’d see him tomorrow, and probably every day after that until the end of time, but you would remember that night for the rest of your life.
You couldn’t wait.
Thanks so much for reading! You rock!
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drdemonprince · 1 year
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How do you tell if someone is interested in you? In the past I've had a hard time telling if someone has been romantically interested in me, and it's only been in retrospect or when talking to mutuals or hearing it from the person that I've learned that they were interested in me, and perceived my reactions as disinterest. I've also occasionally interpreted behaviors as signs of interest incorrectly which has led to awkward situations and even loss of friendships.
Especially when it comes to friends, I just want to know how to ask if someone is interested in me or express interest in them without destroying the friendship. Obviously a hard situation so don't expect a magic solution but would be curious if you have advice!
There is no foolproof way to know if a person is attracted to you, which is why we have the power of overt communication.
Just check in with your own desires first, and then communicate about it! Are you interested in the person? That is reason enough to consider expressing your feelings, but doubly so if you have received some signals that suggest they like you. It's much better to clear the air than to spend months or years trying to decode messages and working yourself up into a lather over all the intrigue.
You can ask the person if they are interested in you, or you can ask them if they meant any particular gesture in a flirtatious way. I've had friends ask me that before, and even when the answer was no, we were fine! It's a cishet allistic nonsense myth that communicating openly about desire will "ruin" a friendship. What ruins a friendship is a tangled web of unspoken projections and longings forming beneath the surface for years without anybody feeling free to name what is happening.
Sitcoms be damned, you can literally just ask a person "is this a date" or "I've noticed you've been touching me on the arm a lot lately, are you flirting with me?" or "We have a really strong friendship chemistry, have you ever wanted something more?" or "I love our friendship and I'm so very happy with it, but I'd also like to pursue dating you, if you were into it." or the like. These are all perfectly fine things to say to a person, things that I've heard and responded to before or known friends to have said.
I have had many friends that I was attracted to, or who were attracted to me -- and none of us died from not getting to fuck one another, nor did any of us go crazy from unrequited desire. I've never felt creeped out by a friend being into me, and when they have brought this attraction up, I was relieved to be able to convey to them when I wasn't available or interested myself. Open communication meant they could stop wondering about it and I could stop worrying that I was somehow accidentally giving romantic signals off. I tend to be expressive and attentive to people I care about, and I don't want to have to reign that in or become artificially cold for fear of seeming flirtatious. It's better to just talk about.
And when i've had a burning desire for a friend who wasn't into me, all I've had to do is make sure I behave respectfully to them and don't expect anything out of the friendship and then made sure to keep my masturbating about the person a good distance away from the real human being themselves so they didn't have to ever think about it or know that it was happening. sometimes I've sustained close friendships for years while being really into a person who just wasn't into me, and I was able to separate the reality of them from my fantasies. More often than not, the attraction has ebbed and taken on far less urgency once it's no longer an open question and it's clear to me that it's not worth pursuing.
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arrowheadedbitch · 4 months
Text
Okay everyone, get ready for a long as hell post.
Tw, suicide attempt, suicide, suicide talk
This is my really indepth Shawn hc that is more of just straight up a story at this point
So STRAP IN!
Okay, so during the ten years, at some point Shawn is super duper depressed. He's not going well at all. He's thinking of offing himself, and he has it all planned out. But, he calls his dad first, in hopes that despite their rocky relationship his dad will talk him out of it. But, as soon as his dad picks up the phone...well, you know Henry, he assumes the worst. So Henry is already yelling at him, why are you calling, what do you need now, blah blah blah, so shawn hangs up on him without ever getting a word in edgewise, he never gets to tell him why he called, and now it's just confirmed to him that he should end it and he's feeling a little spiteful too, so he downs a bottle of painkillers, one of the ones with the candy coating, yknow? He only survives bc he didn't care to lock his apartment door and one of the random girls he's always hooking up with came by to get something she accidentally left there, he doesn't answer but the door isn't locked so she thinks she'll just slip in an get her stuff, but instead she finds shawn and gets him an ambulance. After Shawn gets better, he either manages to charisma his way into convincing the doctors that it wasn't *really* a suicide attempt and gets realesed or does his regular sneaky shit and escapes and dips town so he doesn't have to do any therapy or go to grippy sock jail.
To this day, Henry doesn't know, GUS doesn't know, NO ONE KNOWS, *shawn tells NO ONE*
And he can't take advil anymore, can't stand the candy coating.
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Hear me out, him accidentally letting it slip during a big argument with Henry
I'm thinking Shawn says something that alludes to what happened during the argument without out right saying it so Henry gets to be more confused than angry as Shawn realizes what he almost reveals and completely shuts down refisung to elaborate
I'm imaging that scene in modern family where Alex accidentally mentions to her dad that she did stuff she wasn't supposed to as a teen and slowly backs out of the room
-------
And I could go on a whole rant about the candy coated painkillers, and I will!
The idea of picking something that's supposed to be sweet, that is supposed to go down easier
Because that's kind of the whole point of candy coating, and Advil tastes good as hell, I don't care what anybody says
He chose something that would be sweet and go down easy for his final moments
But it ended up sickly sweet
And it still got stuck in his throat
And it burnt on the way down
He started out tasting good (there's a reason Advils child lock game is so good) but it ended up tasting awful and burning
The burn and pain contrasted with how he thought he would go out
(Maybe even a perfect metaphor for his relationship with his father too....)
The taste is stuck in his mouth forever, a taste he can never forget
The sickly sweet burn of a whole bottle of candy coated painkillers
And even just the term "Candy Coated Painkillers" feels kind of perfect for Shawn, like aiygjvifjtjejjdksndh
---
Also the fact that he never tells Gus? AUGHH hits me right in the heart
He doesn't call his mom or his best friend, he doesn't tell them, they wouldn't even know until after he was long gone
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Maybe Lassie finds out at some point, finally switching gears from looking for something in his criminal record to checking his medical history
Or as a favor for Juliet (thank you Sid/@obsidiancreates ) to find out the truth about a scar he won't tell her about
Lassie doesn't tell anyone, but he does switch out Juliet's stash of Advil for Tylenol, no candy coating.
Shawn finds out he knows because he gets protective of all the new suicide cases in a completely different way than before
Shawn has to tell him to tone it down before Gus starts getting suspicious
-------
And then of course, there's the major angst potential of an AU where Shawn /does/ die
Especially if told from Henry's perspective...
Especially if all of Psych is just Henry imagining what could have been if Shawn didn't die......
But that's all for now!
Enjoy, angst lovers!
[Thanks to @obsidiancreates and @mores0 for talking with me about this AT LENGTH in the Psych discord :)]
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quillfulwhimsyverse · 7 months
Text
Scent of Truth: Amortentia Gone Awry
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: You tried to prove yourself that the feelings that suddenly arose within you were the consequence of someone using Amortentia on you. You were wrong.
A/N: No warnings. This might be the first part of many to come. There can be a handful of grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. Enjoy.
________________
You were tired to say the least. And you were angry, if anything. For a couple of nights you have laid in bed waiting and begging for sleep to finally take you, only to have your mind spiraling even more deeply into the matter than before. It was as if the universe had conspired to awaken something within you, something you never knew existed until now. And that something drove you mad. 
That is why you were currently standing in the Weasley Wizard Wheezes, looking around trying to avoid anyone's interested eyes directed towards you. You were looking for something in particular, yet after standing in one place for a bit of time, you were sure you won’t be able to find it here at all. Suddenly you became aware of a tall body behind you.
“Having a bit of trouble, love?”
You jumped, startled, and quickly reached for a shelf to steady yourself. In the process, accidentally knocking at least fifteen of the potions you were interested in to the ground. 
“Scared me, Weasley.”
Fred laughed a little. “Oh, did I? I am sooooo sorry, darling.” He said in the most over the top apologetic tone you have ever heard, but of course, he didn’t mean one bit of that apology. Afterall, after you turned around, the smirk was there, on his lips. “I would ask you, what you are looking for…” he laughed, “but seeing you here, standing in front of this Amortentia Potion stand, for at least…” he checked his non existing watch, “30 minutes, I wish to ask, who you’re looking to attract?” He whispered the last part, moving closer to you. 
“I don’t want to attract anybody,” you murmur, the fact that he was staring at you completely flying over your head.“ I am just looking for the effect of this thing, I assumed you would have mentioned it somewhere on the bottle.”
He laughed, taking one of the Amortentia bottles from the stand, turning it around and reading the back of the item. “Well, darling, everyone who has taken the potions class knows the effect of this thing, isn’t that why the potion is so popular among you, girls?”
But instead of answering, you only looked at him and frowned. Why would anyone be interested in this potion.. You thought. Becoming very well aware of the bottles lying on the ground. Fred followed your glimpse towards the ground and smirked. “Forget about it, George or I will pick it up later.” 
“Now tell me…” he said slowly as he came a little closer, his voice was low and this caused your arms to tremble slightly. But fortunately (unfortunately) for you he only reached past you to put the bottle he was holding back to the stand shelf. You felt his eyes on you, he was smiling slightly with his lips curved upwards, the way he smiles when he talks to girls. The way he smiles when he flirts with girls. “… what’s up with you and the effects of this potion?”
You suppressed a shiver. You tried to look as normal as possible, not to make him ask any unnecessary questions about why you are acting so suspicious, because, let’s face it, even for you… you were acting a bit suspicious. 
“I don’t know why… But I think. I think someone might have slipped a little Amortentia into my drink, or something. And I just wanted to be sure that that is exactly what happened.” you explained. It sounded dumb. You know it did. But that was exactly what you were thinking. How else would you explain the feelings that surfaced within you at random. 
Fred laughed out loud. He only laughs this way when a prank goes well, or when the teasing he does  works on people and gets them all flustered. “Would you like me to use some Amortentia on you, so you can see if the effects are the same?” He chuckled silently into your ear. 
WHY… you yelled to yourself in your thoughts..why would I want to feel the same way I do now!!?
“But you know…” he said casually, still leaning slightly towards you, “I always assumed my good looks and my charming personality does the job better than any amount of Amortentia could…”
Your heart was jumping rapidly in your chest, you could hear its beats in your ears. “Why won’t you ask the girls if they find your personality charming.”  And there it was. That little, small, yet powerful ping of jealousy. 
He chuckled, purposefully shifting his body so close to you, 
that if he leaned in a little closer, somebody from a side would think you were kissing. This made you slightly uncomfortable. 
“Now now…” he shook his head and you felt his right hand’s index finger brushing your left hand, that was resting on the shelf’s edge, slightly, “don’t be bitter. But do tell me, who has occupied your mind so bad to have you blame it all on this innocent potion?” 
“Oh I will tell you… that this is none of your business. You had no business whatsoever writing the effects of the potion on the potion, so I have no business telling you anything about the consequences of the potion.” 
“Something tells me that you’re not that sure…” You raise your eyebrow at him suppressing a deep inhale while his eyes look straight into yours. “You’re not that sure if it is the Amortentia, are you?” The look he saw in your eyes almost made him suppress a laugh, but seeing you, slightly stressed, he only managed to let out a ‘tsc” with his tongue falling from the roof of his mouth. “Ah. So you might have actually caught feelings, haven’t thought of that, did ya’?”
“No, of course I have thought of that. But it’s simply impossible.” Freds smirk grew a little wider and you felt a blushing creeping into your cheeks. He sure as hell was getting a kick out of you struggling to make sense of yourself and falling into his little tease-traps. 
“Well there is a very simple solution.” He says and you’re quite sure he will suggest you some sort of an antidote to lift the effects of Amortentia. Only he doesn’t. He reaches past you again, slightly and very gently brushing past your hair with his nose, to pick up another bottle of the potion. You start shaking your head. He silences you with his strict look and starts unscrewing the bottle cap letting the steam rise in characteristic spirals. 
Only then it hits you, when some sort of trance lifts your body faintly, that you two were in public the whole time. Kids run past you holding differently shaped candies in their palms, wanting to show it to a friend. The bottles you accidentally dropped before are nowhere to be found on the ground now, someone must’ve swooped them up without you noticing. 
Your attention turns back to the redhead when he moves the bottle faintly in front of your nose, his eyebrows lifted slightly up while he looks down, straight at you. “Smell it.” 
“Are you stupid?” 
“Oi! I’m trying to help you out and you’re insulting me. Not nice, not nice, Y/N.” You quickly try to push the open potion away from your face as he pushes it closer to you, but then with his free hand he grabs your own hand, trying to keep you from jerking it away. “C’mon, doll, don’t you want to know?” 
“At this point, I am convinced you want to figure this out much more than I do.” You sighed.
“Not gonna lie, I am interested.” He still held the bottle near your face, someone passing by laughed at you both, but before you could react, Fred already spoke “Go on, would ya?” Then quickly he turned back to you.
“I don’t get what you are so afraid of. Ya already know what you like and if you don’t smell something else, there ya go, we will find the bloke that slipped this to ya, and jinx him, alright?” At this point he seemed to be watching you very closely as if you would sprint through the door at any given moment.
You nodded slightly, rolling your eyes a bit. You took the potion from his hand, raised it to your eye level and just started at it for a moment. You tried to understand what you wanted the outcome to be. Fred was still watching you closely. You lowered your head to have a whiff of the potion.
At first, you smelled absolutely nothing, for a second you thought the bottle was filled with water. But then it hit you. It started coming in like a well written melody, well assembled together by different instruments. At first you noticed the refreshing, yet salty scent, there was a bit of a moment you thought you had smelled the sunscreen…Must be the ocean. Then the second smell overtook the previous one and you’ve realized that now you smell of old books, the ones you and Hermione loved to read in your free time. But the last scent almost sent your heart spiraling. You smelled The Burrow. Not the house specifically, but one person who lived in it. The scent was so strong that you couldn’t help yourself from remembering when you got familiar with the smell: 
That one summer you stayed for a couple of weeks at The Burrow. At that time you stood shivering in Molly's garden, while the rest of the Weasley children sent the gnomes flying in the air. Molly was pissed at all of them for neglecting their duties all day long, so there you were, enjoying the view late at night. Ginny giggled slightly at you being cold, because you completely forgot to bring your sweater with you. The excitement of seeing gnomes getting the best of you. One of the twins furiously thrusted his sweater into your hands, complaining that you gnashing your teeth in cold was even more annoying than trying to grasp the gnomes in the dark. He urged you to put the sweater on and help them all out. And that was the first time you smelled the fire, cookies, hints of broomstick polish from Quidditch practice ever, associating the smell to Fred Weasley ever since. 
“So?” Fred asked impatiently when you opened your eyes suddenly in a very heavy shock. 
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Behind The Screen
[TWST AU]: Self-Aware AU, but with logical takes.
[Synopsis]: In this timeline, MC/Yuu/[Y/N] was playing TWST one day and then something off-putting happens.
[TW]: Mild cursing
[(A/N)]: I know. This AU has been done multiple times with most of them being…possessive. I decided to try the concept, but with my own take on it. Also MC/Yuu/[Y/N] is around 16-18 years old in this AU.
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MC/Yuu/[Y/N] is just your ordinary gamer who loves the game, Disney: Twisted Wonderland.
They played that game almost everyday ever since it was first released.
They get to experience everything from leveling up the characters (especially their favorites who may or may not be bias towards) to collecting items.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N] fell in love with the storyline and laugh at the humor whenever something ironic and sarcastic happens.
All fun and literal games until one day something happens.
As MC/Yuu/[Y/N] logs into TWST and expected a character greeting them with a gift each day, there wasn’t anybody on the screen.
They thought it’s probably a glitch. It happens.
Shrugging off the weird occurrence, they continue the game as usual, leveling up the characters and winning in battles.
As they were reading through a chapter, something slips up.
Ace Trappola, everyone’s favorite little bastard accidentally mentioned how MC/Yuu/[Y/N] look stupidly cute today with their new haircut.
They freaked out a little.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Okay. I may need more sleep or did I hear Ace right about my looks for today?
Ace: *Sweatdrops*
Deuce: *Whispers* Ace, say your line. You’ll blow our cover.
Ace: *Whispers back* You too, Dunce-face. You’ll get us in trouble.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: …I’m not dealing with this shit.
Ace: No wait-
They exit out of the game and starts texting to a friend of theirs asking advice on what to do with a possibly possessed app game operated by the Japanese branch of the huge corporation.
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[MC/Yuu/[Y/N]’s Bedroom]
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Okay, that’s it. I’m reporting this to the development team and possibly FBI because what kind of sick game is this?
Riddle: No wait! Prefect!
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Don’t “Prefect” me! I know how this shit goes, and it ends badly.
Lilia: Oh dear. You read too many Yandere fics, haven’t you.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: …How do you know that?
Ace: Duh! It’s obvious. We’re in your phone. We sometimes sneak into your search history.
Jack: I’m afraid to ask questions about your…free time.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: You don’t have to know, Jack.
Vil: You need a better wallpaper, honestly. Who edited this abomination?
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Uhh…I did the wallpaper.
Vil: …You need to work on your photoshop skills.
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[MC/Yuu/[Y/N]’s Bedroom]
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: You’re telling me you listened to everything I spoke about this past year?
Riddle: Unfortunately, yes.
Leona: You cursed at us for being “too handsome” and “how stubborn” we can be.
Azul: Let’s not forget you spilled some secrets nobody else would know. You still sleep with a stuffed dolphin after 4.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Luckily nobody ask for my phone.
Kalim: Your world sounds a lot of fun to learn about. I always wonder what it’s like outside with no magic involved.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Believe my words, it’s not pretty.
Vil: I heard you talked about some fashion brands. Louis Vuitton?
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Yeah…That and other brands are expensive as Hell here.
Idia: I was wondering about your Otaku culture…
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Oh! There is enough to talk about with new anime and manga coming out everyday.
Malleus: *Peeks into images of Gargoyles*
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Tsunotarou? What are you doing on Google Images?
Malleus: Oh. Forgive me, Child of Man. I was curious about your device.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Nah, it’s fine. Just be careful when you’re searching for something.
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[MC/Yuu/[Y/N]’s Bedroom]
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: *Fanning over a character* Jesus Christ! I can’t with this guy!
[Insert an image of Yoru from Valorant.]
[(A/N): I couldn’t help myself.]
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Deuce: Huh? Hey, isn’t he from-
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Oh, yeah. I sometimes dabble into Valorant and he’s one of my mains.
Ace: So your type is the edgy bad boy type~?
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Don’t even try, Ace.
Ace: *Threw his hands up in defense* What? It’s not like I can leave here.
MC/Yuu/[Y/N]: Touché.
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✨[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]💫
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bonny-kookoo · 2 years
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Jungkook: Velvet Heart 🔞
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There's something wrong with Jungkook.
Tags/Warnings: Yandere AU, Idol!Jungkook, captivity, emotional manipulation, violence (not against mc), injury, medication and abuse of such, obsession, OCD, blackmail, very shady ways of the company in regards to JKs issues, fluff but its.. You'll see, NSFW mentioned but not descriptive
Length: Short
!! Disclaimer: I do not believe Jeon Jungkook to be like this, God no. This is pure fiction, and meant to be seen as nothing but entertainment. Thank you.
♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Jungkook has always been an odd kid.
But nowadays, there's no denial that there's something terribly wrong with the now young adult. He's social when needed, a perfect actor in front of the media, shows himself as both sexy and cute to please a broad variety of fans. But he's not quite right in his head, and everybody knows.
Onve you know what he's capable of, what he's already done, that smile of his looses its innocence. Those eyes of his change in their sparkle. His grin is no longer cute- it's dangerous. Menacing. Like a wolf snarling in your face.
It's not a smile of happiness. It's more like a warning.
No one's ever allowed in his hotel room - not even room service. He himself actually has a habit of bringing along his own bedsheets, so you'll never leave a trace of yourself anywhere, but at his own home, he shares with you. If he has to bring you along to schedules, no one's allowed to look at you, speak to you, nothing. You're basically to be treated as invisible. Only he can ever interact with you.
And you? Well.. you don't have many memories apart from him.
Found by him at the side of a lake, washed up from your own failed act of jumping out of life, you'd suffered harsh injuries to your brain, leaving you with not only amnesia, but other problems as well. When he'd taken you home, late at night, you couldn't even talk, didn't know how to hold cutlery. He'd instantly done his own research, had looked up ways and therapies he could manage by himself- and so, he somehow helped you learn to exist again.
Maybe that's why you're so attached to him. Horribly so.
You still have a hard time speaking most of the time, but he understands you just fine. Or maybe he doesn't care. You don't mind.
You remember however, when you'd learned the word 'hate'.
You'd spoken it to him one day, randomly to ask what it meant, and he'd suddenly developed an entire mental breakdown. Hands on your shoulders slightly shaking you on the couch, eyes wide open and filled with terror. "No." He said, chanted almost. "No, no, no, no, no!" He shook you, back and forth. "Dont say that, don't ever say that to me! Ever!" He barked before he stilled. "I know you hate me. Everybody does. It's because I'm me, isn't it?" He'd laughed, shaking hands holding your cheeks, before they held your neck. "You do, don't you? You hate me?" He smiled, but you shook your head. He copied the action, amused, emotions all over the place. "No?" He chuckled. "You're such a liar, princess." He laughed, thumb running over the front of your esophagus, before his hands traveled again, forcing your face to look at him. "Thats fine. I still love you." He mumbled. "I'll always love you." He grinned, before kissing you softly.
Sometimes he's like that.
Jungkook doesn't trust anybody, not even himself. He's terrified of loosing you, has invested in a simple portable camera to set up in the hotel room wherever you might stay, so he can watch you like now, as he's getting his makeup done. Everyone, including the other members of the band, know this isn't good. This isn't healthy. But he's a major part of the success they all have.
If he's exposed as a high-functioning sociopath who's keeping someone hostage out of twisted love, everything would crumble to ashes.
So reporters are paid off if they ever find hints. Lawyers are always on call if things go south, or if Jungkook breaks another staff's jaw for accidentally mentioning you. Psychologists are there if one of the members has to watch the youngest pull someone's teeth out from their throat again after snapping out of control because the guy had been smiling at you.
Jungkook had even expected a thanks for it. He'd saved the guy's life, after all.
It's not healthy. Not at all.
But money rules the world- and Jungkook makes them all a lot of it.
Without him, the house of cards will fall and burn.
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On the twelfth of January, he always celebrates with you.
You don't know why, and you also dont know what. You're sure you know it's not your birthday, and neither is it his, but then again, you don't really care either way. You live from one day to the next, and you exist because Jungkook wants you to. So you're happy when he's happy.
"Do you like it?" He smiles, holding out another spoonful of cake to you. You happily accept it while your legs swing back and forth from the height of his lap. He likes feeding you. It reminds him of the earlier times, when he'd just found you. Sometimes, when he's feeling gloomy, he'll Revive those old habits. He'll help you eat, help you clean your face or brush your teeth.
He loves reminding himself that without him, you'd be read. Rotting next to the waters, eaten by bugs and torn apart by animals.
Instead, you live a lavish life under his watch, enjoying what the world has to offer every day. He's trained you like a dog, after all these years. He can trust you. You won't ever run away.
You're way too scared without him, after all. As you should be.
You fall asleep in his arms a bit later on the hotel bed, filled with sweets and his love, while he scrolls for some stuff on his phone. He smiles when he looks at a photograph from the news on the TV he took on his way home one day.
[Missing girl officially declared dead after only one year and two months, police reports. Parents: "we want to move on." All investigations closed as of yesterday, as the case comes to its end.]
Recorded on the 12th of January, three years ago.
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It's quiet around him, these days.
With the lawsuits wrapping up behind closed doors and far away from the public eye, fans worry about the maknae due to his silence. Meanwhile, he himself couldn't be happier, having spent the third day in a row waking up late during the day next to you, sleepy as ever, still resting. You sleep a lot. Always have.
Sometimes more, when he wants you to. Then you'll get some help slumbering off from him. He knows how to measure the dosage. He's done it a thousand times.
In his dreams, you sometimes scream. He doesn't know why, takes it as a warning to hold you even closer, and when he dreams such things, he will be restless. He will sleep with his length inside your warmth, as far as it goes, so he can stay as close as humanly possible with you. He doesn't mind the mess you both make.
It's proof of your love.
Sometimes he wants to take you outside. Go to dinner, walk alongside Han River, but then he realizes that you might remember what had happened that Night. You might loose all dependency on him, all love for him, all memories- and it makes him angry at himself, makes him pull his own hair in frustration necause he can never let that happen.
Everybody knows he's hanging on by a thread.
And if you ever step out of line, if you ever leave-
That fragile little chain keeping him grounded will snap, freeing the beast.
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Will you ever be free? Do you want to be?
If freedom is away from Jungkook, will it ever be enjoyable?
You don't have to think about that. Not when his hands hold your wrists down into the mattress so hard they will surely bruise. Not when he almost growls like a predator at every thrust he pushes into you. Not whe he kisses you like he doesn't care about breathing.
Not when he's got you all chained up to his side, like a dog, loved and loyal.
You exist for him.
You're alive because he wants you to be.
You've survived because he loves you more than anyone else ever could.
You're his.
And don't you ever forget it.
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Umbrella Academy season 4:
I finished the entire season a few nights ago, so lets talk about some things;
I haven't checked in with the fandom in any way, but from most of the tiktoks i've seen, not many like this season. Completely understandable, makes sense, especially after seeing that weird (a lot of people used the word:) predatory relationship which went down between Five and Lila. I definitely did not see it coming, and though I don't find it predatory myself, as they are both consenting adults, since Five is in the body of an (i think) 20-something year old, but has the mind of an (if i remember right) 60/70 year old(?). I think how it happened can also be an excuse; they were trapped together for (what felt like to them) 7 years. Not to mention that Five had probably been lonely for some time now, and though Lila claimed that her marriage satisfied her, I really don't think it did.
This all however, is totally not an excuse for their behavior. Lila was married with three kids, and Five was the brother of her husband. They were in-laws, which does add to the weird pile.
The only thing I really enjoyed about their "hang", was their travels through all the different timelines. And now we have another academy (The Phoenix Academy), that's just a fun thought. I would have loved to see an episode where they explored the different timelines with different academies.
In other news: I love Luther.
I'm sorry, but I just do. I think the way he desperately tries to keep everything together when it comes to their family is commendable. In previous season, I always hated how he excused Reggie's behavior, but now that he's left that behind and focuses solely on his siblings instead is adorable. Both and he and Allison have given up on the whole incestuous relationship they had, and now they don't even mention it nor acknowledge it. Though normally I would say that that's not a healthy way to deal, I think it's actually better to just leave it all be.
Yes, I know he's kind of pathetic. Yes, I know he is also somewhat selfish. No, I do not care. He's trying very hard to be cool older brother Luther and cool uncle Luther. I think his whole descent into sex work should have been talked about in a better way, but somehow he always brought it up as a thing he enjoys doing? I'm not going to go into prolematic things that the writers have been doing, but this is definitely one of them. There's nothing consensual about sex work, and it should never be shown as something that one might enjoy doing.
This is one of the first actual seasons, however, where we get to witness Diego doing his thing! (I know we've seen him do some other tricks, but they never been this detailed.) I was so shocked to see him do his little spin in the air to redirect the bullets during the second episode, but I was disappointed to see that Lila did NOT care.
Talking about Lila and Diego, did anybody else catch that one part in the first episode about how they basically had the twins accidentally? Diego explains to Luther that though he loves Lila and his kids, he feels exhausted and not at all satisfied. Then he explaines that they had the twins through Lila telling him that since she was breastfeeding, she couldn't get pregnant. It's unclear now if they were both mistaken, but just the way he was talking about it, it felt like to me that he felt betrayed by Lila. I'm pretty sure that Lila was aware that she could still get pregnant, she just knew that she wouldn't be able to convince Diego, so instead she did this.
Viktor is as cool as ever. He's always been very cool, but thinking back to all other old (pre-transition) Elliot Page roles, its so noticiable how uncomfortable he was in his body, and getting to see him now, playing a male character, whos not only accepted by his siblings but Reggie too?! Amazing. And him bonding with Reggie? Delicious, I ate that right up. Reggie calling him "boy" (and other masculine nicknames)? Love, love, love.
This is one point for the writers and Netflix, this is exactly how Hollywood should handle an actor coming out, and I hope that this will be an example for future media that will feature transgender actors in the middle of transitioning.
Klaus is our little weirdo who DESERVES a break. He needs it. Please.
We get to see him clean this season, but I did not expect him to behave like this while off drugs. Honestly, I'm not sure I expected anything. I guess I kind of just thought he'd do drugs anyway? Or that he'd get clean but still behave somewhat the same way.
Poor Klaus was also a character subjected to sex work this season, it just made a bit more sense this time. He definitely did not enjoy it, that was something they made very obvious, but they still couldn't do it just right. It was awful watching him have to make a choice between getting money to pay off his debt and leave or a sole condom for "dealing" with costumers. They didn't make it obvious how many clients he really had, but through dialog, you could kind of guess that he had way more than the one girl whose money he tried stealing.
I loved seeing his relationship with Allison this season. And I loved his relationship with Claire even more. I felt the scene where he went home to rob Allison's place so he could get money to buy drugs was realistic, but since I've never had any experiences with addiction of that kind, I won't speak on it.
The villains of the season were kind of nothing if I'm being honest. I loved their sense of style, but other than that they were basic, text-book style villains, who were mostly around to just help the story along. They weren't too memorable, but neither was Reggie's wife? Partner? I'm not sure who she was, or if she counts as a villain or not? I didn't really understand her role, but I did like how she treated the siblings the first time they met.
Then there is Ben and Jennifer.
I feel like we never really made Ben an official part of the siblings, even though he is supposed to be. His relationship with Jennifer was very cute, but once again, it was not too memorable, even though it was supposed to be the main story of the entire season. I find it weird how it all looks unplanned while also being completely planned? Like, you'd assume that ever since season 1, this has always been the story of Ben's death, and yet it still feels like it just wasn't? It feels like they were putting this whole thing together blindly, and then someone thought of the right thing and that was what made it all make sense.
And I don't like how things with Jennifer went unexplained! What does that fucking squid have to do with anything???
But anyway, other than all that, this season was a very basic example of a Netflix series. It was entertaining but not deep. It was a good watch, but I don't think I could ever do a re-watch. I think it was overall, just nice.
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hunterevie · 10 days
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Once in a while somebody will ask if there is a way to remove kudos on Ao3 on the subreddit and that normally leads to people putting their opinion across about whether we should be able to remove kudos from stories. Whether this is because they’ve accidentally pressed the button; they’ve found the author has some troubling views or they got to the end of the story and decided they didn’t like it.
Of course I am very anti this idea because Ao3 is not social media. It’s an archive for people to put their stories out for all to enjoy regardless of the content. A kudos is just a way of somebody saying ‘I’ve perceived this, and at that moment I liked it.’
But it’s deeper than that. It’s about how this function can be used to run authors out of a fandom. Either because they’ve upset a BNF and that person wants to get revenge, or because they’ve written something problematic a lot of the fandom don’t agree with. Essentially, it’s about brigading.
Whenever I put this view across. I’m told I’m being too sensitive. Or I’m overreacting. And all I can think is, well isn’t it nice you’ve never been attacked on social media and didn’t almost stop doing something you loved due to the actions of others?
From my perspective, I can easily see how a remove kudos function can be used to completely destroy the reputation of authors. And that is just because of my experience on Twitter.
Because my profile wasn’t just outed to 6000 people because I happened to say something a highly aggressive BNF believed was aimed at her. No, it went further than that. She actively told people to block and unfollow me. How do I know this? Because I still have friends in that fandom who told me.
People I respected and thought were decent didn’t allow me to put my story across and decided to do exactly that, block and unfollow me. Because her ‘receipts’ included something anonymously sent to her, and something I wrote on my account that was vaguely similar. I mean anybody who can’t work out I wouldn’t say something on my account and then attack a person anonymously isn’t worth my time anyway.
But I digress.
Imagine you had the ability to remove kudos from a story on Ao3, and that person knew I was a fanfic writer and knows my profile on Ao3? (Which they do because I used the same username). That co-ordinated attack could leak over onto Ao3. They could ask anybody that’s ever read my work to remove their kudos so that my stats go down and it looks like my stories are more unpopular than they really are.
Sometimes people filter by most kudos. They may decide that a story with 15k hits and 50 kudos because of a co-ordinated attack isn’t worth their time. Because ultimately that person doesn’t know why the author has so low kudos. It could be because the quality of their work is bad? Which means they may skip over it.
And yes, whilst we are told as authors to ‘write for ourselves’ we don’t upload to Ao3 for fun. We do it because we do like the engagement with others and we do want to share our stories. So imagine how demoralising it would be to see stats go down just because somebody decided they didn’t like you?
Basically if this ever happened to me I’d never write again and I would just remove all my stories. Which would be a loss to me, and those who do like my stories. Because they’d be left with no answers on my current WIPs.
And I can see many authors taking the same course of action if a ‘remove kudos’ button was ever added. Because it’s an easy way to trash the reputation of an author, and it’s naive of people to think it wouldn’t be used as a tool for attacking others.
Anyway, enough of that. Thanks for coming to my TED talk about Ao3 kudos and here’s Jensen and Misha as a reward for sitting through it.
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candywife333 · 11 months
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Champagne Confetti
PART 3 of Just Want to See you Like That
This series is based on Jungkook's 3D and is probably going to have close to 6-7 parts, depending on where the storyline takes me. I'm feeling a bit dramatic, so expect a lot of angst. Tumblr is going to be referenced in this fic under a different name, Bumblr (I know, totally goofy name).
Summary: Y/N, an overworked employee at HYBE , only ever posted on Bumblr when she was feeling cornered. It was truly her escape. She didn't really do insta or even twitter. Most people would look at her and think this glass wearing quiet girl would most probably be posting pics of flowers and cute animals. But no, looks could be deceiving. Y/N's posts were far from innocent. In fact , they were borderline risque. She didn't expect anybody but a few horny people to come across these pics; people who would view and compliment in the best case scenario. What she didn't expect was that a certain star would be a regular consumer of her material. A star that technically had no business simping after her like that.
Disclaimer: This work is not representative of the real Jungkook's personality and behavior. It is merely fiction and please treat it as such.
Trigger Warning: voyeurism, exhibitionism, may or may not have dub-con later on
Please don't read the fic if any of these themes are disturbing or offensive to you.
Taglist is open
I couldn't believe how freeing it felt to quit that damn job. I had loved interacting with the kind staff and organizing things; something I was a pro at. However, the constant verbal abuse and condescension I had suffered at the hands of the administration had gone on long enough. Since I don't drink, I grabbed a huge bottle of apple cider from the store and headed back home to pop this bottle open and pour the golden liquid into a glass delicate pink wine goblet I had purchased last month.
I decided to have an apple themed party for myself. So I got home, showered with apple and cinnamon shower gel, put on a vintage flare dress with a pattern of green and red apples littered all over, and sat down with my cider and a decadent apple fritter that had been embellished with a wonderful berry compote.
Just as I popped open the bottle, giggling in glee, kicking my bare feet in the air on my comfy couch, my phone started blowing up. I stared at it frozen, rather confounded at what the reason for this cacophony could be. BANG PD?!!?! What the hell?! I never talked to the man. The only time I had even come across him was when I had accidentally bumped into his plush frame in a hallway. I would exaggerate and say that the tiny bump sent me flailing off onto the ground, but that would be a bit dramatic. I had lost my sense of balance and went crashing into a bucket of dirty cleaning water, clearly a great alternative to my extra imagination.
I was blushing in mortification reminiscing about that incident, as I came back to the present. I picked up my phone and was met with the gravelly steady voice of Bang PD as he drawled out , "Hello Y/N. How are you doing? Hope you are having a great evening". I felt paralyzed in awkwardness as I responded back timidly, "Of course PD-nim. I am doing great. Is there anything I can help you with?"
I heard a heavy sigh on the other end as PD groaned out in what seemed to be exasperation, "I am so sorry for what happened with our admin personnel this morning. My secretary informed about the incident and I am ashamed for her behavior. Please understand that I would never want any of my staff treated that miserably". Feeling shocked at his apology, I squeaked out, " Oh, please don't apologize PD. I know that her actions are not a reflection of HYBE's attitude towards employees. However, I find that my service isn't that valued at HYBE and I think maybe I am not a good fit anymore."
Strangely enough I could hear mumbled cursing on the other end of the phone as PD loudly exclaimed, "Of course you are a perfect fit for HYBE. Don't ever doubt that. I knew from the day I hired you, seeing you in your training period, how meticulous you are with running the maintenance of the place --even though we don't pay you to run management. Your dedication and management skills are invaluable to us. You may think I don't keep an eye on our maintenance staff, but I do. And everyone I have talked to from stylists to artists only have great things to say about you. In essence, what you do for us irreplaceable work".
I sat there on the couch with crumbs and sticky glaze all over my lips, as he continued, "Please come back to your job. But this time we will hire you as one of our administration managers. You are clearly overqualified for the position. Jennifer has been fired so you won't have to deal with her. And your pay will be hiked up to thrice what we used to pay you."
I almost choked on my own spit as I scrambled to tremulously say, "I am pleased to come back Sir. I won't disappoint you". He resumed speaking in a cheery voice, "Wonderful. I expect to see you back tomorrow at 9 AM. Your pay for the month has been wired to you". He hung up as I sat there in a daze before I got up from my seat and whooped loudly in the air yelling in mirth, "Take that you scumbags. Can't fuck with me and my bag". I couldn't wait to go back and show those bitches what I was made of. My luck was on the rise.
-----------------
I skipped into office the next morning, elated at the upgrade in position. Walking inside the cubicle, I saw one of the nicer admin staff. Her name was Stacy Lee. She smiled a wide smile that you could only see in a toothpaste ad as she ran to me excited, "Hello!!! You must be Y/N. It is great to meet you. I've seen how hard you worked to carry the whole building for months on end. It is a pleasure to finally actually get to work with you."
Her warm aura encompassed me as I shook her hand and smiled at her, "I think we will get along just fine". Stacy briefed me in on all the work I was supposed to do. As I slowly finished my tasks throughout the day, mostly responding to phone calls and typing reports, I caught the sight of a certain black haired buff man walking through the doors of the lobby accompanied by Taehyung, the ever kind angel of HYBE. He was one of the nicest people to staff. Never spoke down to them or belittled them. He would even go as far as to thank them for all the tiny tasks they did for him, and invite staff to parties and dinners along with the rest of the members.
I knew him pretty well from a very interesting incident that happened a few months ago. He had been hungover, reeking of alcohol, heading into his private office to clearly mask his situation. He had stumbled into the lobby, knocking over the cleaning supplies that had been placed there in the morning. I had seen him haphazardly stumbling around and happened to grab him by his shoulders, escorting him into his office before he could lose all dignity and make a fool of himself.
I had handed him some coffee, soup from the cafeteria, and 2 ibuprofen pills to quell his hangover. He had started vomiting, so I had held his hair away from his face sticky with sweat, steadying him as he vomited. Wiping his forehead with a wet cloth, I had placed him on the spacious sofa in his office and told him to sleep for a bit. After that ordeal, he had been super kind to me. Sometimes he had followed me around like a little puppy dog as I completed my tasks. When I asked him why (rather startled at this rich idol's devotion), he responded in a jubilant voice , hugging me as he jumped up and down, shrieking with joy, "You are a wonderful person. And I want to be your friend".
I couldn't resist his puppy like dark eyes which stared innocently at me. We became really good friends, meeting each other up for dinner occasionally when he wasn't super busy. As Taehyung walked in, he walked over to me with an ecstatic grin on his face ," How you doing Y/N, my fluffy little cupcake?", as he came around the counter to squeeze me around the waist , engulfing me in his too warm embrace.
I snickered at him, "What's up Tae? You seem rather busy these days?" He flirted back shamelessly, "I'm never too busy for you my buttercup". I cringed internally and groaned , "Don't do this Tae. My heart can't take this level of sugar, I'll get diabetes".
As we were conversing, I felt a dark set of doe eyes piercing my frame, burning holes into my chest. I hadn't really gone over the top with the clothes today; a high waisted black business pant with a lacy pink top that showed just a tiny bit of cleavage. Wonder why the creep was staring. Last time I checked, I hadn't been the one desperately, vulgarly, pounding into any staff in a closet.
As I pondered all this, Tae whined, "Please come outside tonight to celebrate with us. It'll be just the boys, TXT, and our managers". Apparently it was his birthday, and he had been hyping it up beyond measure, trying to convince me to show up for close to a month now. He continued, "Come on Y/N. There will be champagne confetti. I know you don't drink, but you will love the confetti popping into the air. You are such a baby, but I love that about you. I will force you to come if you don't agree. Am not even above threatening you."
I stared at his dead pan expression. I sighed, "Okay Tae, I will join you this once only. You know how awkward I get with new people." He jauntily shook his head up and down, running away screaming, "Hyung, I finally got Y/N to come out of her shell. Get ready to get wasted guys". I scoffed. Tae himself hated drinking. Dude was more likely to consume 10 cupcakes rather than even a shot of soju. I guess both of us would have a sugar high tonight.
Even though Tae left, the black eyed black haired devil hadn't left the room. He seemed oddly stunned, his face contorted onto an "O" shape, his round eyes unblinking, mouth open completely as he stuttered out incredulously, " Are you by chance....cherrybomb123 on Bumblr"?
WTF?!!!! I was panicking internally. How would he know? He couldn't possibly recognize the pale pink lace bra barely peeking out of my top? And if he recognized me, who the hell was he? My brain was screeching out with the answer as I stared at him in shock. I was royally screwed, and not in a good way.
Taglist : @sporadicarcadebanana , @darkuni63, @jessicalynn85, @mint--yoongs, @fortunecookiesworld
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melon-wing · 11 months
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Not-So-Secret Soulmates [Scar/Grian]
[[FANFICTION MASTERLIST]]
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Grian stood at the small grave, looking at the name with a pained expression. His heart ached for the friend he had just lost, even when he knew it wouldn’t be forever. He hadn’t meant to kill Bigb. He had managed to convince himself they were secret soulmates so much that he had forgotten Bigb had still been connected to Ren after all. He probably wouldn’t have built that trap otherwise. Or maybe he would have done it, but he would have apologised to Bigb before they had perished. This way he had actually celebrated his secret soulmate’s death, indirectly, but still. He had cheered. 
Grian almost felt as if arms were embracing him and he wondered if that was really the case. He remembered being a ghost last time. He had still been able to stay in that world and while he had just watched, maybe soft touches were possible. Him and Scar had been able to hear the shouts of the dead in their first game after all. Sometimes the wall between the dead and the living got thinner as emotions ran high. 
“I’m so sorry, B. I didn’t mean to kill you. I wished things could have been different. I really… I really wanted to be with you”, he whispered into the cold night air.
“You wanted him to be your soulmate instead of me, didn’t you?”
Grian jumped, whipping around so quickly he almost fell, the feeling of the soft embrace immediately disappearing as a cold shiver ran down his back. How hadn’t he heard Scar walk up to him? It was so unlike him to not pay attention and Scar usually wasn’t one to hide his presence well enough. It took him a moment to overcome the shock to realise Scar was still waiting for an answer, his eyes looking deep into his and it was as if he was pulled into these brown pools filled with uncertainty and sadness.
“Yes. I wanted him to be my soulmate. He was the one I was disappointed about most when we discovered he wasn’t my soulmate.”
Scar let out a small laugh, but there was no joy in it, it sounded so hollow.
“I mean… I knew that. Why am I even surprised? I just never thought you’d admit it just like that. But yeah, it’s true. Nobody would have been happy having me as a partner. I’m irresponsible, I mess up stuff and I don’t think before jumping into action. I’m the worst at this and anyone would have been better. I’m a walking, talking catastrophe.”
Grian could see something breaking inside Scar as his voice reached a higher pitch as he spoke, cracking every now and again, his words making him spiral downwards even more. 
“Scar-”
“No. Don’t you dare deny it now. You know it’s true! I pretended I didn’t hear you scream when you found out. I pretended it was something else that made you this upset, but I knew. I knew we were soulmates before you did. I knew the moment I stepped foot into this weird world. Because how could it ever be anybody else other than you?”, Scar ranted on, a shaking hand pushing his hair from his forehead as he looked at Grian, his eyes a mixture of sadness and madness. He was losing it quickly and Grian was too overwhelmed to know what to say to him. “Scar, please…”
Scar just shook his head, eyes moving from Grian to the grave behind him. “I thought this time we could win together. Me and you until the end. This time we wouldn’t have to fight to death. I didn’t want to see you cry again like last time. It was so hard to keep pretending then and not just hug you. I promised myself to protect you.”
“Wait… pretend?”
The glint of madness seemed to disappear and Scar smiled softly, but still so sad as he recalled the memories of their first game. “Grian. I’m not that bad at fistfighting. I’m a clutz, but even I don’t stumble that often and fall face first into a cactus. I didn’t want to hurt you. I let you win. Had I known you’d cry over my dying body like that I would have just accidentally fallen into a ravine before we ever reached that damn ring of death.”
Grian only stared at him, thinking back to their encounter in the desert, not trying to linger too long on the memory of the screams and blood. Now that Scar had said it, it seemed so obvious. Not even Scar was that much of an idiot when something was important to him. Apparently winning had never been important to him.
“I- Thank you, I think?”
Scar just shook his head and Grian was pretty sure getting gratitude wasn’t the reason he had brought it up.
“It’s in the past now. We were a great team back then. Not so much anymore. What happened to us, G? I thought you enjoyed being with me, even if I can be an irresponsible buffoon sometimes. We hang out all the time on Hermitcraft. We have lots of fun together, don’t we? Why do you hate being my soulmate so much that you want to team up with someone else?”
Grian pressed his lips together, glancing everywhere but at Scar’s face. He hadn’t known his attitude would hurt Scar this much and he knew he owed his partner an explanation, but he had a hard time admitting it out loud, when he had only ever told Bigb about the way he felt.
“I didn’t want to be the one to kill you again”, Grian finally whispered, looking up from uncertain eyes at Scar who seemed slightly shocked at his confession. “If you weren’t my soulmate I could have tried to do the same thing I did last time: Stay as far away from you as possible and make sure we’re not on the same or on opposing teams. I know this is a game and I know we all respawn… But I didn’t know back then. The first time. I thought I had killed you. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t fight you again. A piece of me broke that day, Scar, and I have been unable to repair it.”
“What?” Scar just gasped out, looking at him as if he was processing those words for a moment and then a bit of the sadness disappeared and he seemed less lonely and broken as a hopeful glimmer appeared. “So you teaming up with Bigb…?”
“He was helping me, Scar. We spent so much time together because he’s one of my best friends and he knows me. And I tried to replace you with him and I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you this much. It’s not that I don’t like you… I like you too much.”
Scar seemed to stop, all thoughts coming to an abrupt halt as his wide eyes looked straight into Grian’s. And then suddenly his cheeks started to turn pink as his shocked expression morphed into a small shy smile. It was an expression that made Grian’s heart race faster again. It was funny how the smallest of changes on Scar’s face could make him react like this.
Scar finally stepped up, taking a hold of Grian’s hand. “You don’t have to do this. Keeping your distance. I promise I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. We don’t have to fight and even if we die”, Scar took the hand to his lips, kissing it softly, looking up from the hand at Grian, “We’ll be right back together. I will be there when you wake up on Hermitcraft. We’ll be together. This is not real, Grian. We aren’t dying.”
“I know…”, Grian whispered, looking at Scar, those bright green eyes looking at him from beneath long eyelashes. “I just. I’m scared. What if I make enemies and you die because of me? What if I stumble and fall? What if some mob gets to me?”
Scar just shrugged, smiling fully now as he lowered Grian’s hand once more. “Grian. Do I look like someone who thinks he could win this? I cost you two lives already. So if you stumble, I’ll just have to catch you and put you back on your feet again. And if we die, I’ll be happy knowing we did our best together as a team. And once this is over we can be together without worrying. Back home.”
Grian smiled back at Scar. He just couldn’t help it. Seeing that smile was always too infectious. There was still a deep worry inside him, but yet he felt calm as well. Yeah, he might die and hurt Scar. But Scar wouldn’t mind. Scar would still be there waiting for him once he woke up again. Scar lifted his free hand up, letting it rest softly on Grian’s cheek and Grian leaned into the warmth of that touch, closing his eyes for a moment, allowing his constantly racing mind to slow down for the first time since this game had started. When he opened his eyes, all he could see and think of was Scar. Scar with his soft locks and bright smile. And with those deep eyes that looked at him with so much affection. It was truly a miracle he hadn’t suspected before that his feelings weren't one sided. “Promise me, Scar… Promise you’ll stay by my side. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me this time.”
Scar smiled and nodded.
“You’re not alone. Not in this world and not in the next.”
And as they both leaned forward their lips touched to seal the promise and Grian could feel a spark running through his whole body and he just knew that even if they didn’t win, he had gotten everything he ever wanted in this miserable world. He had found something precious that would stay far longer than the time they’d spend here. He had finally found love.
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scary-grace · 1 year
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Love Like Ghosts - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever.
But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble.
Cross-posted to Ao3
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21
Chapter 1
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Rent in the city you live in is so goddamn fucking high that it was either keep living with the worst roommates in existence or find a way out to the suburbs. But the suburbs are wall-to-wall McMansions, so far out of your price range that calling it a bad joke would be an insult to both concepts. All except this one single neighborhood. And within this one single neighborhood, this one single house.
You knew there had to be a reason it hadn’t sold. You’re not an idiot. So you did your research, like the law student you wanted to be before your loans from undergrad kicked in, and found absolutely nothing. No murders in the house’s history. No accidental deaths. No urban legends about curses and creepy children living in the walls. You even went so far as to track down a previous owner, who was perfectly nice, and perfectly willing to talk about the three weeks he spent living there before he sold it and ran for the hills.
No, he said, he didn’t hear anything. Or see anything. No strange accidents or unstable floorboards. There were no strange bumps in the night or objects left out of place. Just a constant, ever-present feeling that he was being watched.
Carbon monoxide leak, maybe. When the pre-purchase inspection happened, you made them check that twice. And for toxic mold. But there was nothing. Just an old house in a too-big lot at the end of a quiet street, hemmed in by the wetlands on three sides. A total steal. You couldn’t believe that no one had bought it.
People come close, your realtor told you on your last walk-through. One time I had a lady come all the way to the end of escrow before she backed out.
Why’d she back out? you asked idly. Your realtor made a face. She didn’t say?
Oh, she said all right. Said something was wrong. That it didn’t like her. The realtor scoffed. It doesn’t like or not like anybody. It’s a house.
He said that, but you could tell he didn’t believe it, and because of that, you asked him if you could finish the walkthrough alone. He left reluctantly, clearly concerned that you were going to back out of the sale, too. You weren’t planning on it. You just wanted to see if there was something you were missing, if everybody else who hadn’t bought this house had picked up on something you didn’t. You walked from room to room, picturing where you’d eat, where you’d sleep, where you’d set up your office when you finally went to law school and got licensed and set up your own practice. You didn’t feel anything wrong, even when you sat down in front of the fireplace and played devil’s advocate one last time, trying to talk yourself out of signing the papers. It was just a house. Your house.
When you came down the front steps, your realtor was leaning against his car, looking more than a little dejected. His face fell when he saw you coming. Change your mind?
You shook your head. Give me the papers, you said. And I’ll need a pen.
Moving in took you one weekend. Less, even. Living in tiny apartments through college and your first few years on the job didn’t give you much room to accumulate pointless stuff, as much as you might have liked gathering little trinkets as a kid. It took you one and a half trips to move all the important stuff, and then it was just you yourself. You, yourself, and your dog.
Looking back, you definitely should have brought Phantom with you to check things out before you signed the papers. In horror movies, dogs are always the first ones to figure things out. But when you hooked up Phantom’s leash and let her out of the car to sniff around, she didn’t react at all beyond how dogs usually react to arriving in a new place – sniffing everything, picking up everything in her mouth, yanking at the leash until you let her tow you around the front yard. When she clambered up the steps to flop down on the porch, you breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom liked it here. You liked it, too.
And you still like it, three and a half weeks after you moved in. In fact, you think you might like it more than you did when you moved in. That’s not a surprise, really – your main criteria in buying a house was that it was a house, and not an apartment you have to share. Sure, your commute in to work sucks now, but it’s worth it when you get to come home to somewhere quiet. No terrible music. No terrible perfume or makeup smears on the bathroom counter. No rotting food in the fridge or moldy dishes in the sink. Nobody’s having very loud, very kinky sex in the room next to yours all night, because there’s no room next to yours – and there’s nobody in your house but you. You sort of wish you’d done the home ownership thing a while ago. It would have saved you a lot of stress.
“It’s kind of perfect, actually,” you say to your friend over FaceTime. “Really perfect. I wish you could come see it.”
“Yeah, me too. But you know how it is. Loans.”
“Loans,” you agree. “The downpayment on this place basically cleaned me out. If anything goes wrong I’m going to have to start selling my organs.”
Your friend laughs. “Start with plasma. You can replace that easier.”
“Or feet pics. I don’t have to replace those at all.”
She laughs, and so do you, and the sound echoes through your house. “Listen to that,” your friend marvels. “It must be dead quiet there.”
Quiet, sure – but over the past three weeks, you’ve noticed that the house feels alive even when nobody’s making noise on purpose. You can hear Phantom’s toenails clicking on the floor in the living room and remind yourself to get a rug. And a couch. You’re doing laundry, and the sound it makes is comforting. The hum of the fridge is, too. “I don’t mind,” you say. “I like it here. The only problem is the dust.”
The house has been empty for years by now, so it makes sense that there’s a lot of dust. You knew that going in, and you’re still slightly horrified at the clouds that come up every time you touch a surface that you haven’t dusted earlier that day. “We’ll just call you Cinderella,” your friend jokes, and you scowl. “Or not. Sheesh, lighten up. And throw a housewarming party! Get some real noise in there.”
“We’ll see,” you say. The idea of letting people you work with know where you live is frankly upsetting. And so is this conversation, honestly. You don’t know where the frustration’s coming from, but you’ve got to get off the phone. “I have to go. Phantom’s eating something and I need to fish it out. Love you.”
“Love y-”
You end the call and drop your phone screen-down on the table. The frustration you felt before is ebbing already, and with it comes relief – and confusion. You know you’ve got a bit of a temper, but you never let it out on friends, and you keep it hidden at work. Even at home you’re careful. You got Phantom from a rescue, and too much banging around or sharp words stresses her out. So why did you get so close there? Is the fairytale thing really that upsetting? Were you really that pissed at the idea of letting someone else in your house? Why?
Because it’s yours. It’s your place, where you don’t have to make excuses for anything you’re doing, where you can do whatever you want. God knows you worked hard to be able to have this place. You’re going to enjoy it the way you want to enjoy it. Nobody else gets a say.
The weird mood clings to you through the afternoon and into the evening. Of course it’s a Sunday, which means you’ve burned through the last of your weekend being mad at a friend over nothing. You could keep moping, or you could try to get out of it. You pick door number two and head out to the back porch with Phantom.
You didn’t pay much attention to the yard when you bought the house. You were more interested in the bigger stuff, like making sure it wasn’t haunted or cursed. But the yard is – nice. Or it will be nice, once you get your shit together and start pulling weeds. You got rid of anything that might make Phantom sick, but you’ve let everything else run wild, and the blackberry bushes along the border to the wetlands grow so high you can’t even see the fence. You did check and make sure there was a fence, of course. Phantom is pretty docile, but it’s hard to trust the judgment of a dog who chews on her own feet and sleeps upside down.
She looks like she’s having fun, though. She’s doing that thing dogs do, where they clearly want to take off at high speed but can’t decide which direction to go. Maybe you should help her out. You pick up her ball out of her toybox and wave it to get her attention. “Come on, Phantom! Go get it! Get your ball!”
She starts running before you’ve even thrown it, and you call her back, laughing. “Come here, you. I’ve still got it. Wait –”
She prances in place, ears pricked and tail wagging. “Wait – okay, go! Go get it!”
You chuck the ball and she takes off after it at full speed, catching it on the run and depositing it back at your feet covered in grass and slime. You remind yourself that slime is part of having a dog. You pick it up and throw it again, and again. On the third throw, Phantom stops mid-chase and freezes in the middle of the yard.
You’ve never seen her do that before. “Phantom,” you say, but she doesn’t turn. “Phantom, leave it. Come here.”
She doesn’t move. She whines, cowers, wiggles a few steps backwards – and then the biggest coyote you’ve ever seen springs out of the darkness, jaws wide open and ready to close on Phantom’s throat.
Phantom turns and bolts, but she’s not fast enough. Its jaws close on her hind leg and she howls. “No,” you shout, your voice somehow strident and shrill at the same time. You pick up the nearest thing you can find – your phone, totally useless – and bounce it off the coyote’s head. It snarls and lets go of Phantom, who limps back to your side, making the worst sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. You can’t help but try to calm her, even as the coyote prowls closer, even as you watch your dog’s blood drip from its teeth. “Sweet baby. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
The coyote’s going to bite you. You’re going to live with that. But while it’s biting you, you can hurt it as much as possible. You’re bigger. You have body weight and hands and a dog you have to protect, and so what if the fucker looks absolutely rabid? There’s a shot for that. They can probably give it to you at the emergency vet when you take Phantom in. The coyote sinks into a crouch, preparing to lunge. You get your feet under you and try to calm the racing of your heart. The coyote snarls, leaps, and –
And. You don’t know how to process what you’re seeing, so you’re stuck on and. And the coyote is poised in midair, thrashing and snarling at something that’s holding it in place with all four of its paws off the ground. And it stays suspended there just long enough for you to blink a few times, for you to realize that what you’re looking at is real. And then its neck breaks with a hideous snap, so hard that its head is nearly torn off, and its body drops to the ground at your feet.
You stagger back, almost tripping on Phantom – and then you scoop her up in your arms, even though she’s not anywhere close to being carryable long-term. It’s the only way to be safe as you back up the porch stairs, as you both collapse just in front of the back door. Something just happened. Your dog’s leg is bleeding and your heart is pounding and something just happened. What was it?
Something broke the coyote’s neck. That didn’t just happen on its own. Something killed the coyote, fast and brutal but not fast enough that you didn’t see fear flash in its eyes when it realized there was no way out. It wasn’t another animal that did that, and there was nobody in your yard but you. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens when you move into a nice, normal house. This is the kind of thing that happens when your house is haunted. And whatever’s haunting your house can snap necks with its bare hands.
But not your neck, you realize. Not your neck, and not Phantom’s. Whatever’s haunting your house can kill things, but it hasn’t killed you or your dog, in spite of having all kinds of opportunities to do so. In fact, this is the first time anything haunted has happened in your house at all, and it paid off for you, big-time. Maybe whatever’s in your house is –
Friendly is not a word you’re going to use when there’s a sort of mutilated, completely dead body in your yard. But you think you can safely call whatever it is ‘not hostile’, at least not to you. And if it’s not being hostile to you, you should be friendly in response. “I don’t know who did that,” you say to your empty yard. “But whoever it was, thank you.”
You don’t wait for a response. Your dog is hurt, and you have to get her to the vet, and for the rest of the night you don’t think about what happened at all. But the next morning, when you go out to chuck the dead coyote over the fence and patch up whatever hole it got in through, the coyote is gone. The only evidence that anything happened at all are a few drops of Phantom’s blood dried on the ground, and a spot of dry, dead grass that was definitely alive last night.
There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and when you talked to the previous owner, it’s not like he didn’t warn you. But what he warned you about isn’t quite what’s happening to you. The previous owner, a perfectly nice guy named Shirakumo, told you that he spent his entire three weeks here feeling like he was under a microscope. Like it was trying to make up its mind about me, he said. I decided I didn’t want to be here when it figured it out.
You’re pretty sure whatever’s in the house has made up its mind about you. At least enough to decide that between you and the coyote, it would rather keep you around. So unlike Shirakumo, you don’t feel like you’re being watched. You just feel like you’re not alone.
It’s a weird distinction, but it’s undeniably there. There’s something in here with you, something unseen, and if it was watching you, you’d know. It isn’t watching you. It’s doing whatever things it does, and you’re doing the kind of things you do, just coexisting side by side in your new house. It’s there when you leave and it’s there when you come home, just like Phantom is, and Phantom doesn’t seem to mind it. More than a few times, you’ve caught her play-bowing and wagging her tail at empty space. If she was nervous about it, you’d be nervous, too – but dogs always know when a house is haunted in horror movies, and Phantom’s not acting scared. But your house is still haunted. Maybe it’s just not haunted like that.
You tell yourself to just live with it, but it starts getting weird after a little while. If someone was here in person, you’d talk to them, include them in the silly questions you ask Phantom about whether the two of you should get takeout for dinner instead of cooking and whether or not she is in fact the bestest girl in the whole wide world. Maybe the thing in the house is waiting for you to talk to it, and getting upset that you’re not. This is a good time for you to remind yourself, like you do every so often, that the thing in your house isn’t friendly just because it’s not hostile to you, and it can still snap necks with its bare hands. It’s in your best interest to keep it – not hostile.
You keep telling yourself to talk to it, and you keep chickening out for a whole week and a half. Then you’re in the middle of emptying the dishwasher and hit your head on an open cabinet door hard enough that you see stars. Then you stumble backwards and land flat on your ass on the kitchen tiles. “Fuck,” you say, with feeling, and Phantom comes running. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m fine. I’m just a dumbass.”
You’re conscious of the thing in your house, of the fact that it’s here, just like always. It’s not watching you, but if it was, what would it say about this little scene? A response flies into your head, and you say it before you can think of whether or not it’s the smart thing to do. “Yeah, keep laughing. The first time this happens to you I’m going to laugh my ass off.”
There’s no response, but you weren’t expecting one. You should probably have made your opening statement to the ghost a little friendlier. But your neck hasn’t snapped yet, so you pick yourself up off the floor, close the cabinet so you won’t hit your head again and kick off round two of this embarrassment, and get back to work.
Attempt one on talking to the ghost was a failure, but you have a rule about trying things at least three times before you give up, so you try again. This time you come home from work, greet Phantom like always, and then slowly, deliberately turn to face the totally empty patch of air in the hallway. “Hi,” you say. “I’m home.”
Nothing then, either, and if you’d started the sentence with “honey” instead of “hi” you’d have sounded exactly like your dad. You’ve always thought that the way characters in movies deal with their haunted houses is cringe. Yours is a different kind of cringe. Possibly a worse kind of cringe. But when you turn away from the empty air, your neck stays unbroken, and that sense of company, of presence, doesn’t fade. If nothing else, you’re not pissing it off.
To be clear, you don’t talk to your house all the time. You don’t feel like talking all the time. But when you do, you start speaking out loud, and soon it becomes a habit. It might be an embarrassing habit, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And talking to it instead of tiptoeing around it makes you feel a little better about the situation. Less like you’re being haunted. More like you’re at home.
Your coworkers find out that you moved after two months. You’re not sure how, because you definitely didn’t tell them, but you did have to tell HR to start sending your pay stubs to a new address. Somebody there must have spilled the beans, and as pissed as you are, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Just like there’s nothing you can do about the fact that half your coworkers have invited themselves over for an impromptu housewarming party. Tonight.
“This is stupid,” you complain as you wipe down every flat surface on the first floor, trying to get as much of the ever-present dust up as possible. “I see them enough at work. The whole point of working is so I can afford to spend time not at work.”
Phantom huffs a little bit. She’s mostly friendly, but big groups bother her, especially big groups with too many loud guys. “I would never just invite myself over to someone’s house,” you continue. Back in the day you’d have called a friend to complain. Now you just do it out loud. “How the hell am I going to get them to leave? They’re not going to want to leave. This place is perfect.”
You pause for a second, transfixed with horror at the idea of having to kick your coworkers out. “This sucks. Think it’s too l ate for me to fake my own death?” As soon as you say that, you wish you hadn’t. You don’t want the thing in your house to offer to help. “I can’t do that. If I don’t have a job, I don’t have a mortgage payment, and I need a mortgage payment so I can keep my house.”
You finish dusting, then dig out a baby gate from when Phantom was still potty-training and prop it across the stairs. You don’t want anybody thinking it’s okay to go upstairs. The doorbell rings just as you’re straightening up. Coworkers. You grit your teeth, then paste on a smile and go to open the front door. “Hi. Go ahead and invite yourselves in.”
If you’re going to be fair to your coworkers – and you feel like you have to be, because otherwise you might kill them and wind up with a whole bunch of ghosts haunting your house – not all of them are bad. They don’t have to be bad for you to not want them in your house. Most of them just have irritating habits, like clearing their throats on every other word or laughing too loudly at their own bad jokes. There’s only one or two you really don’t like – they pick on your clothes and the way you do your hair, or steal tea bags from the secret stash you keep in your filing cabinet. Both of them are here, and their presence puts you in an even worse mood than you already were.
The only person you’d actually hang out with after work is Mr. Yagi, but he’s your direct supervisor and also sort of old, which means you can’t be friends with him. He’s here, too, and he seems like he’s trying to rein everybody in. You see him stop one of your coworkers from hopping the baby gate and going upstairs and give him a grateful look. He smiles back. Then he startles, coughs into his handkerchief, and stumbles back against the wall.
You start towards him, concerned, but midway there someone slings an arm around your shoulders and stops you in your tracks. “Honey,” Nakayama slurs, flopping most of her weight onto you, “your house’s vibes are fuck awful.”
You didn’t provide alcohol, but it looks like your coworkers brought their own. You shrug her arm off. “Wow. I’m so glad I asked your opinion when I asked you to come over.”
“You didn’t ask,” Nakayama says, confused. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for the penny to drop. It doesn’t drop. Instead a full-body shiver overtakes her, and she wraps her arms around herself like she’s shielding her body from something or trying to keep warm. “Don’t you feel that? It’s – male – male-eh –”
She thinks your ghost is a man. You’re not even sure your ghost is a ghost. “Malevolent,” she says finally. Oh. “It doesn’t want me here.”
“Maybe that’s because I don’t want you here,” you say, and Nakayama laughs. She thinks you’re joking. Mr. Yagi, who’s snuck up alongside you, knows you aren’t. “If the vibes in here are so bad, go check out the back porch. I fixed the hole in the fence, so there shouldn’t be any more coyotes.”
“Coyotes?” Mr. Yagi asks worriedly as Nakayama wanders off through the house. “Is that how Phantom was hurt?”
“Yeah.” You were worried the incident would put Phantom off the backyard, but she loves it just as much as ever. You have a feeling that’s got something to do with the thing in the house. “Like I said, I fixed the hole. What do you think of the house?”
You haven’t asked that question of anybody else, but Mr. Yagi’s opinion is one you’re interested in. “It’s quite – nice,” he says. “Very – lively.”
The pauses in his speech make you wonder if he’s holding in a coughing fit. He has some kind of lung illness. You’re not sure what it is. “Are you okay?”
“Your house.” Mr. Yagi coughs. “I can see why you purchased it. I can see that you feel comfortable and at home here. And at the same time, I understand Miss Nakayama’s use of the word “malevolent”. Something does not want us here.”
“Maybe it’s just me. I didn’t exactly invite people over.”
“I’m very familiar with your demeanor when dealing with a situation you don’t like,” Mr. Yagi says, and chuckles. He sobers up a few seconds later. “This darkness is orders beyond what you could emit. I don’t know how you live with it. It could drive a person mad.”
If this was somebody else, you’d gaslight the hell out of them. But you like Mr. Yagi, and liking him makes you honest. “I talked to people who’ve owned this place before. They said they felt like you do, or like they’re being watched. But I’ve never felt like that here. Watched over, maybe.”
“Watched over?”
You can’t tell him about the coyote. You just – can’t. “Maybe I’m imagining it and I just like the quiet. I believe you about the vibes. I just don’t feel them.”
“I see,” Mr. Yagi says. He looks troubled. You don’t want him to look like that. You don’t want to be worried about this. “Perhaps it’s just an old man’s musings, my dear. You have a lovely home. You should enjoy it.”
There’s a shriek from outside, and you barely manage to mumble an apology to Mr. Yagi before running to investigate. One of your coworkers is freaking out on the back porch, and frantically stubbing out a cigarette in the bargain. You’ve been patient, but the sight of the cigarette pushes you over the edge. “I thought I told you not to smoke here!”
“There was a thing!” Todoroki gestures frantically towards the other end of the porch. “I saw it. Right there. In the smoke –”
“Use your words,” you say. Something’s uncurling in the pit of your stomach, something you’re not all that eager to put a name on. “What did you see in the smoke of the cigarette you weren’t supposed to light up on my back porch?”
“A hand,” Todoroki says. “I saw a hand reaching for me.”
“Maybe it’s your guilty conscience,” you say. Todoroki is close enough that you can smell alcohol mixed in with the smoke on his breath. “Coming after you for inviting yourself to my house and breaking my rules.”
“Your rules are a little strict.” Nakayama slings her arm around your shoulders again. “Don’t you think?”
“No,” you say, sharper than you should be. “I think you don’t know how to listen!”
“Easy there.” Mr. Yagi slides into the conversation sideways. “Todoroki, our hostess did request no smoking. Very politely. And Nakayama, I’m sure you know that hosting an event can be stressful! Let’s go inside and give our hostess a moment to herself, all right?”
Mr. Yagi is hard to say no to, and Todoroki is eager to get off the porch anyway. Nakayama follows him in, and then you’re alone, seething with an emotion you’re finally forced to name: Jealousy. “Come on,” you say out loud, once you’re sure no one else could possibly be listening. “Of all the people you could show yourself to, you picked him?”
There’s no answer, of course. There never is, and after a while, you’ve got no choice but to go back inside and deal with all your mostly-unwanted guests. The bad vibes are infecting the rest of the party, and Todoroki isn’t being shy about whatever he thinks he saw on the porch. Pretty soon everyone is ready to leave. You think Mr. Yagi will be out the door along with everybody else at high speed, but instead he gathers everybody just inside the door for a group picture. “To commemorate the evening,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not telling the truth. Not all of it, anyway. “Everyone smile!”
Everybody smiles, you included – and then everybody scatters, including a few who are probably too tipsy to be driving. You chase after them, make sure everybody who’s drunk is riding home rather than driving themselves, and slink back inside, tired and frustrated. Your house is messier than you like it, your boss thinks you’re living in some kind of hell dimension, and the thing in your house showed itself to one of your dumbass coworkers and not to you. This evening has sucked.
Your phone pings with a message from Mr. Yagi. He’s texted you the photo he took of the group without comment, and when you see it, you see instantly why he wanted a picture in the first place. There are your coworkers, smiling with varying degrees of discomfort. There’s you, smiling because you’ll have the house to yourself again soon. And there’s the shapeless shadow, defying the light beaming directly onto it, hovering just over your shoulder.
There’s something in your house. You know that now for sure. It shows up as a shadow in pictures, but Todoroki saw it as a hand. Other people feel very differently about it than you do – or it makes them feel differently about it than you do. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why every person who’s set foot in the house has had a borderline allergic reaction to it, except you. There’s nothing special about you. For whatever reason, the thing in the house hates you less than it hates everybody else. Why? And why, if it hates you less than everybody else, did it show itself to Todoroki instead of you?
You’ve been thinking about it for a week. You’re thinking about it so hard that you’ve fucked up installing your front porch swing twice, and so hard that you don’t hear a kid calling out to you from the sidewalk. “Hey! Hey, you! Are you the new neighbor?”
The question snaps you out of your fog. You look up and find a girl who looks like she’s about twelve hovering at the end of the path leading up to your door, taking tentative steps over and then pulling her foot back. She’s holding a foil-covered plate in her hands. Behind her there’s an older guy, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. You’re older than him, but not by much. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I told Himiko not to shout. But shouting is so fun!”
His demeanor shifted completely between the first sentence and the second. “You’re Himiko,” you say to the girl, and she grins. Even from this distance, you can see that her teeth are oddly sharp. You turn to the older guy. “And you are?”
“This is my big brother Jin!” Himiko gives him a glowing look, then turns her attention back to you. “Now you tell me your name! That’s what people do!”
“It sure is,” you say, bewildered, and you make your introduction. Then you feel weird shouting at them from the porch, so you make your way down to the edge of the yard, still holding a screwdriver. “So you all are my neighbors?”
“Yes! The pink house just that way!” Himiko points it out. “We live there with Jin’s mom and his brothers and sisters!”
“Sorry it took us so long to introduce ourselves,” Jin says. Then that demeanor switch happens again. “We didn’t want to grace you with our presence until we were sure you wouldn’t cut and run!”
“Everybody leaves,” Himiko says, swinging on your front gate. “We made you cookies to say hi!”
“They’re the best cookies in the world,” Jin says, and Himiko sneaks in past the gate. “Don’t eat them. She still doesn’t know how taste buds work.”
That might be the weirdest thing they’ve said to you so far. “Oh.”
“Himiko, come back,” Jin calls, looking past you. “They didn’t invite us in.”
“I know! But – ooh.” Himiko breaks off midsentence with a shiver. Not the same kind of shiver as you saw from Nakayama when she was here, like it’s too cold – the kind you’d do if a spider walked across the back of your neck. “I just want to meet you! Jeez, calm down!”
“I’m calm,” you say.
“She doesn’t mean you,” Jin says, and a chill runs down your spine. “Himiko, come back!”
Himiko skips down the path back to the gate and steps through. “You should come visit us at our house,” she announces. “He doesn’t want us here.”
He. “What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t like to share,” Himiko says. She laughs, high and almost shrill. “I don’t need more people. I have as many people as I want! I have Jin and Jin’s mom and Jin’s sister and Jin’s brother –”
She’s not talking to you. She’s looking back at the house. “Who’s he?” you ask, and she smiles at you. “I’m not joking. I really want to know.”
“You know,” Himiko says. “Or you will, anyway. You’re his.”
“Excuse me?” Something inside you rebels at the thought. “It’s my house.”
“Yeah,” Jin agrees. Finally – a voice of reason. Or not, because what he says next makes everything worse. “You wouldn’t have kept it if he hadn’t let you.”
Himiko nods importantly, still smiling. Then she looks at you, and – “Um, did you just –”
“Just what?” Himiko asks, but you shake your head. There’s no way you saw what you think you saw. There’s no way her pupils closed vertically, almost disappearing, and opened again – like a blink, but not a blink, because eyes aren’t supposed to do that. “Come visit us, then! Everybody in the neighborhood wants to meet you!”
She pushes the plate of cookies into your hands and goes skipping off down the sidewalk. Jin gives an apologetic shrug, followed by a hyperenthusiastic wave goodbye, and follows her, leaving you standing just inside your front gate with a plate of cookies you’re now eighty percent sure are poisoned and even less of an idea about what’s going on than you had before. You decide, with a skill at compartmentalization that you’ve been honing since you moved in, to table it until you’ve set up your porch swing.
But after the swing’s up, you’re hungry. So hungry, in fact, that you pry up the foil on the plate and take a look at the cookies Jin and Himiko brought over. They look suspect. So suspect that you wouldn’t risk eating them unless you were starving, and even then you might try chewing off your own arm first. It’s too bad. You really could have gone for a cookie right about now.
But you’re an adult, and you have your own house, and a decent amount of ingredients in your pantry. Maybe cookies aren’t as out of reach as you thought they were.
One quick shower later, you’re in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients for your favorite cookie recipe. Back in the day you’d play music, or call somebody. Now you either talk to Phantom, talk to the thing in the house, or both. But Phantom is napping on the tiles on the front hall – her favorite spot on hot days, even though you have air conditioning and you like to use it. That’s a good thing. You and the thing in your house need to have a talk.
“You’ve got an attitude problem, huh?” Your opening lines with the thing in your house are never as polite as they probably should be. “I’m fine with you scaring my coworkers. I’m pretty sure I thanked you for that one. But those were my neighbors. I have to live with them. Or near them. And they seemed – nice.”
It gets quiet after that. Sometimes you can use the silence to convince yourself that the ghost is answering, just not in a way you’re able to hear. Sometimes you even imagine what the ghost is saying. Today is one of those days. “Okay, fine. They were weird. I still have to live with them.” But you have to live with the ghost, too, and the ghost apparently has some weird ideas about what’s going on here. “And while we’re talking about it, what’s this possessive shit? You think you own me? You’ve talked more to my twelve-year-old neighbor than you have to me, so you’ve got a lot of nerve talking about me like I belong to you.”
You’ve got no idea what the ghost would say in response to that, and you have to get out your dry ingredients. You head to the pantry and dig out what’s left of your flour, noting that you’ve got a new bag waiting, and go back to the counter. Except something happens to you midway there. You step into a cold spot, colder than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, and your hands go nerveless and numb like you’ve been flash-frozen. The bag of flour drops from your hands and splits open on the floor, letting up a puff of flour that climbs high into the air like a mushroom cloud. Higher than it should. But that’s not what you’re looking at. You’re looking at the two clean spots on the flour-coated floor, directly in front of you. Two clean spots in the shape of a pair of feet.
They’re not children’s footprints. Whatever’s in your house isn’t a child like Himiko – it’s an adult, like you, and it’s standing really close to you. Your eyes are drawn almost inexorably upwards through the already-dissipating cloud of flour. You’re looking too late. You almost miss it. But before the flour falls completely back to the floor, you see the outline of a torso, the slope of a shoulder. The length of an arm. And the shape of one hand, thumb and forefinger poised to flick against your forehead.
You react before you can think about it. “What are you, twelve?” You wave your hand through the air, trying to dissipate the rest of the cloud, resolutely ignoring the way you obliterate the shoulder, the torso. “Learn some manners.”
The cloud vanishes, and the figure with it. You could almost believe it had never happened at all, except for the pair of clean footprints on your otherwise flour-covered floor.
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