#a weird girl's guide to becoming a ghost

[murmurmurl]

Derin and Blanche first meeting. I do not know how to make comics but the oc brain worms are stronger than anything else

[kysstar]

BURN FOR THE SPOTLIGHT | CHAPTER TWO : : RIVALRY NEVER DIES

pairing : : kang yeosang x idol!reader

series synopsis : : you and yeosang have been rivals since childhood—outsmarting, outshining, and outdoing each other at every turn. years later, just when you thought you were free, he shows up at KQ as a trainee. on camera, you're civil. off camera, it’s war all over again. but rivalry feels different now.

genre : : academic rivals to lovers, idol au

chapter warnings : : mentions of alcohol

word count : : 2.4k

[ series masterlist ]

—You never meant to become a trainee.

In fact, you could probably write a whole essay titled "The Many Reasons Why I Would Never Be a K-pop Idol." At the top of that list? You weren’t the type. Too loud. Too opinionated. And absolutely not the kind of person to spend hours perfecting a dance move when you could be sleeping or binge-watching dramas.

But life had other plans. And those plans started with karaoke and bad decisions.

It was your best friend’s birthday. Which meant drinks, singing off-key, and screaming your lungs out to second-gen hits in a tiny, overly decorated karaoke room.

You had been gone. Drunk off cheap soju, yelling the lyrics to Wonder Girls’ “So Hot” like it was your last performance on earth. Somewhere in between pretending you were the main vocalist of a nonexistent girl group and fake crying through a sad ballad, a man had stepped into the room.

You barely remembered him.

Just the vague image of him standing there in slacks and a half-unbuttoned shirt, holding some business card you couldn’t be bothered to read. He’d said something about “potential” and ���audition” and “KQ Entertainment,” but you waved him off, too busy fighting for the mic with your friend.

“Cool story, man,” you had said, mid-song. “Go scout someone who can actually hit this high note.”

The next morning, your head was pounding.

Your phone buzzed with a new number and a message that read:

“Congratulations. You’ve been selected to join KQ Entertainment’s trainee program. Please report to the address below by Friday.”

You blinked. Then read it again.

“What the hell is KQ?”

Your friend nearly choked on her cereal. “BLOCK B’s company.”

“Okay... and?”

“ZICO used to be under KQ. ZICO. You have to go. For me.”

You laughed it off. “They probably got the wrong person. I was drunk, remember?”

“They heard you drunk and still want you. That’s either insane or you’re secretly talented.”

You weren’t convinced. But your friends? They staged a whole intervention.

“You literally hate school right now.”

“You have nothing to lose.”

“Just go for a day and ghost them if it’s weird.”

And so, against your better judgment, you went.

And it was… quiet.

Suspiciously quiet.

Where were the rooms packed with hopeful trainees? The hallways buzzing with nervous energy? You’d heard stories—other companies had floors filled with them. But here, the lobby was empty, the halls silent. You walked around, confused, until a staff member finally guided you to the training floor.

That’s when you met him.

Kim Hongjoong.

He was sitting cross-legged on the practice room floor, scribbling into a notebook, headphones in, completely absorbed in whatever track he was building.

He looked up as you entered. Paused. Then stood up so fast his notebook flew off his lap.

“Hi—! Are you a trainee?”

You blinked. “…Yeah. I think so?”

His face lit up like someone had turned on a switch inside him. “You’re new?”

You nodded slowly. “I just got in today.”

He practically beamed. “I’m Hongjoong. I’ve been here alone for—like, months. You’re the first person they brought in after me.”

He looked like he wanted to throw a welcome party on the spot.

From that moment on, you stuck together.

Hongjoong was your first friend in KQ. He showed you where everything was, how to check the schedule board, when Eden usually came in for training sessions, what to eat from the vending machines when lunch breaks got skipped.

You weren’t used to the schedule yet. Dance at 9 a.m. Vocals at 12. More dance. Then monitoring. Practice rooms stayed open late—sometimes until midnight—and Hongjoong? He’d still be there. So, you stayed too.

You didn’t know why at first. Maybe it was guilt—he really had been alone for months. But slowly, it became something else.

The two of you trained together under Eden, side by side. Hongjoong was serious about it. Focused. He had this hunger in him, like he had something to prove. And you? You had no idea what you were doing. But Hongjoong never made you feel behind.

He’d stay after hours to help you polish your choreo. Show you how to project in the vocal room without blowing out your throat. He laughed when you fell, encouraged you when you nailed something.

Sometimes you’d sneak out together during breaks—nothing wild, just grabbing snacks from a convenience store down the block or sitting on the rooftop with hot drinks, legs swinging off the edge as you talked about anything but training. Music, family, stupid memes. The pressure was suffocating some days. But it helped, having someone who understood it exactly the way you did.

The thing about the entertainment industry was that nothing was guaranteed. One minute, you were training to debut as KQ’s first female soloist. The next minute? Everything was gone.

You still remembered the way the company sat you down, the way they told you, in the most business-like tone, that the project was being terminated.

Not postponed. Not restructured. Terminated.

Just like that, years of hard work went up in smoke.

You had been so close. And now, you had nothing.

Hongjoong had found you later that day, plopping down next to you on the floor of the practice room. He didn’t say anything at first, just passed you a can of soda.

Then, after a long silence, “You’re not gonna quit, right?”

You exhaled. “Should I?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. But you’re too good to waste this.”

You stared down at the can in your hands. “There’s nothing left, Joong.”

“There will be.”

—You had almost gotten used to it. Almost enjoyed the peace.

KQ had become your second home—the kind that exhausted you, challenged you, and sometimes made you want to scream into a pillow, but still, home. You liked the quiet, the tight-knit feel. Just a few trainees working in the same dusty rooms with the same scuffed mirrors and overworked speakers. You knew the schedule, the staff, the vending machine that always jammed when you needed it most. And for a while, it felt like you were part of something small but steady.

Then came the announcement: new batch of trainees.

The first one was Yunho. You remembered him clearly—tall, bright, loud in the best way. He had a smile that made people relax, even when they were sweating through choreography. He introduced himself like he’d been waiting for this his whole life. Said “nice to meet you” with both hands clasped and eyes shining like it wasn’t just a formality.

Then came a few more. You didn’t memorize all their names at first, but you remembered Hongjoong talking about one of them—Mingi. Apparently, he and Yunho knew each other from before. “He’s got stage presence,” Hongjoong had said. “And confidence. Like, dangerous confidence.”

As the weeks passed, the halls got louder. The lunch table filled up. You finally had other girls to train with. It was weird, having people in the changing rooms again. Having someone to talk to about the hell that was cardio Fridays.

The instructors started asking older trainees to help the new ones settle in. Minji, your dorm partner, got assigned a guy named San—small, scrawny boy, endless energy. She came back from his building tour half in love and half exhausted.

So when your name was called to introduce another new trainee, you had felt a sense of pride. This meant the company recognized your hard work. It meant you were someone they trusted.

But then, Instructor Yang casually mentioned that the new trainee had come from Bighit.

You blinked in surprise. That wasn’t something you heard every day. Unlike KQ, Bighit was an established company, home to one of the biggest groups in the industry. If a trainee had transferred from there, they had to be good.

You felt a flicker of curiosity. Why would someone leave Bighit to come here? What kind of person was talented enough to train under such a powerhouse, yet willing to start over at a much smaller company? You didn’t know, but for the first time in a while, you were genuinely interested in meeting someone new.

That excitement lasted exactly five minutes.

The moment you stepped into Instructor Yang’s office and saw him, everything around you seemed to freeze. Your breath caught in your throat. Your body locked up. Your mind short-circuited.

Kang Yeosang.

You hadn’t seen him in years—not since graduation day, when he had walked across the stage, accepted his diploma, and vanished from your life. No more competing test scores. No more petty fights. No more constant one-upping each other. You had thought you were free.

And yet, here he was. Standing in front of you once again.

Yeosang looked just as shocked as you, his sharp eyes widening the second they landed on your face. His lips parted slightly like he was about to say something, but nothing came out. You doubted he even remembered how to speak in that moment.

“This is Kang Yeosang,” Instructor Yang’s voice broke through the silence, though it felt like a distant echo. “He’s transferring from Bighit to train under KQ. Since you’re one of our most experienced trainees, we’d like you to show him around, introduce him to the others, and help him adjust to the environment.”

Your jaw clenched. You wanted to refuse. You wanted to tell Instructor Yang that someone else—anyone else—could do it. Maybe Hongjoong. Hongjoong was great with new trainees, great at making people feel comfortable. He could handle it.

But then, reality hit you like a slap in the face.

You were close to debuting. So close. The company had been hinting that you'd be debuting as a soloist. You had worked for years to get to this point. If you wanted to secure your spot, you couldn’t risk anything—not even something as simple as rejecting a tour.

So, instead of saying what you truly wanted to say, you swallowed back your pride. You forced your lips into a small, controlled smile, ignoring the way your stomach twisted in protest.

“Understood.”

The moment you stepped out of Instructor Yang’s office with Yeosang trailing behind you, you already regretted everything.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, like the universe itself was laughing at your suffering. Of all the people KQ could have brought in, of all the trainees you could have been assigned to, it just had to be Kang Yeosang.

You barely glanced at him as you started walking down the hallway, your pace brisk. “I’m only doing this because I have to,” you muttered under your breath. “So keep up.”

Yeosang scoffed lightly behind you. “Didn’t realize you were so excited to see me again.”

You almost stopped in your tracks just to glare at him. Instead, you tightened your jaw and ignored him, leading him toward the first stop of the tour.

“The practice rooms,” you announced flatly, pushing open a door to reveal one of the smaller training spaces. “This is where you’ll be spending most of your time. Vocal training, dance practice, self-evaluations. Pretty much your second home, unless you’re planning on slacking off.”

Yeosang stepped inside, glancing around. “Bighit’s were bigger.”

Your grip on the doorknob tightened. “Well, you’re not in Bighit anymore, are you?”

He smirked at that, clearly enjoying the way your voice tensed. “Guess not.”

You ignored him again and kept walking, not even waiting to see if he followed. If he got lost, oh well.

“This is the main dance studio,” you continued, pushing open another door. This one was a lot larger, with full-length mirrors lining the walls and speakers set up in the corners. You crossed your arms and turned to him. “We use this for group evaluations. If you suck, everyone sees. No pressure.”

Yeosang chuckled, stepping inside. “You still talk too much.”

You shot him a glare. “And you still have an ego the size of a stadium.”

He grinned. “Good to know nothing’s changed.”

You really had to fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. Instead, you turned sharply on your heel and kept moving. “This way.”

The next stop was the vocal room, a small space with a single piano and a setup for recording. “You’ll be doing monthly vocal assessments here,” you explained. “But I doubt you’ll have much of an issue, since you probably think you’re great at everything.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “Why? You worried I’ll score higher than you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, please. I’ve been training here for years. You’re new. You have catching up to do.”

Yeosang tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “We’ll see.”

God, you wanted to wipe that expression right off his face.

As you continued the tour, you begrudgingly led him through the trainee lounge, the cafeteria, and the small recording booths. Each time, you kept your explanations brief, not because you were trying to be efficient, but because you refused to let him think you cared about helping him.

When you reached the rooftop—one of the only peaceful places in the building—you hesitated.

You almost didn’t want to show it to him. The rooftop was where you and Hongjoong would sometimes escape when things got too overwhelming, when the pressure of training became suffocating. It was your space.

Yeosang noticed your pause. “Something wrong?”

You sighed, pushing open the door. “This is the rooftop. People come here when they need a breather. Not an invitation for you to follow me up here whenever you feel like it.”

He stepped out onto the rooftop, looking around. The city lights stretched far in the distance, the breeze cool against the night sky. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at you. “Didn’t think you’d still be here after all these years.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the railing. “Well, I’m not a quitter.”

He hummed, leaning beside you. “Never said you were.”

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you here, Yeosang?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted out toward the skyline, his usual cocky smirk fading into something unreadable.

“…Bighit wasn’t for me,” he finally said.

You frowned, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. Yeosang never admitted weakness. Never showed anything beyond confidence and arrogance.

For a brief moment, you almost felt… something. Not sympathy, but curiosity.

But then he turned back to you, smirk returning. “Figured I’d come here and make your life hell instead.”

And just like that, whatever momentary softness you felt vanished.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you pushed off the railing. “You already are hell, Kang. Let’s go. I still have to show you the dorms, and I’d rather get this over with today.”

God help KQ. The war had started again.

© kysstar

taglist : : @yoonbroom @charlie-xo @xionarauwu

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

The reader was always the black sheep in the village because she was quiet, introverted and didn't like social contact, she would lock herself in her room and read tons of books... Disliked by her family, she didn't get much food, and since she had a lot of siblings, her parents preferred to feed her older and stronger siblings leaving the reader visibly malnourished. One day, the reader decides to run away from home during a snowstorm, but unfortunately she loses consciousness and wakes up on Donna's property. Donna makes friends with a shy reader and discovers her sad past. Donna understands the reader and notices that they have a lot in common!!

Yesss!!!!! Thanks for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

The weird, the lady, the doll

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, insecurities…

Word count: 7,064

Summary: You wanted a better life...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

Snow, all you could see around you was the color of snow. White in front of you, white behind you, on the sides, surrounding your weak figure as you made your way down an uncertain path.

Your weak legs told you that your decision had not been the right one, but your head encouraged you again and again to keep going. Your life was not going to improve by staying in the hell you called home, or rather, that your family called home.

An accident, a slip, something that wasn't planned, that's what you were in your family, the youngest of your siblings, the least of their worries. It was true that you were never worthy of such attention, why? Because you didn't even make an effort to get it.

Lonely, glued to your books, not talking to anyone, not wanting to. This is how you spent all those 20 years of your life, like a ghost, like the stories that spoke of a monster locked in a tower, a presence that had no importance, a useless girl who only took up room, and stole food.

But if your life were like in the stories, a miracle would have appeared sooner or later, a miracle that would get you out of the tower, that would make you value yourself as you deserved. The years passed, and that didn’t happen.

When you were 20 years old, your parents already thought that you were nothing but a burden, ha, as if they didn't think that way before. The food that arrived in that dark corner that was your room was becoming less and less. Your brothers needed more food, you didn't need strength to read; arguments that only emphasized more your family's wish for you not to exist, for the story that was your life to be just that, a story.

Nothing was waiting for you on the other side of the door, no one was going to rescue you from dying of hunger, no one was going to miss you. If so, why not make things easier for your family? That same afternoon you gave wings to the thought that invaded your mind daily, what would happen if you didn't exist?

You weren't looking for anything. Nothing would be a greater reward than getting out of there. You just wanted to disappear, to be guided by the wind to a place where perhaps you would stop feeling like a nuisance, ideally far from the village.

Everything about the cult, about Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything only served so your pale skin would be blessed with a few rays of sunshine. The masses in which your parents surely asked the Black Gods that the little strength you had left be passed on to your brothers, were the only moments in which you were aware that you were part of a whole, and not a single being locked in a room.

Your desperation, the desire to live your introverted existence in solitude, without feeling like an obstacle to the happiness of others, made you so desperate that even you began to pray.

You weren't praying for the food that was taken from you, you were praying to be able to fade away, to be able to disappear from that place and wake up to something that didn't seem like a continuous nightmare. Maybe that storm was the answer to your prayers.

With that thought, perhaps illusory, that the Gods took pity on you, you took the few possessions they allowed you to have, your favorite books, and left that place, hoping to never return.

But the Black Gods were not merciful and your weak steps were lost in the storm. As you walked, your bones ached, your vision blurred. Maybe it wasn't your prayers that were heard. Maybe it was your family's.

For a moment you wanted to go back, but it was too late. The color white, a symbol of purity and goodness, surrounded your sad figure, cutting your skin as if they were blades. You didn't know where you were, or where you were going.

The darkness of the trees acted as a guide. You stopped at each one of them. The white did not stop harassing you, the pain in your legs made you stagger. You couldn't stop, but on the other hand, you wanted to. Maybe you would merge with that white. Your existence would be buried by snow, maybe that was the authentic prayer that the Black Gods were willing to fulfill.

But a wave of rage woke you up from your sad reverie, from your desire to give up. With a grunt, you continued walking, swinging dangerously across an old wooden bridge. Maybe you had already succumbed to hunger. Maybe that was the bridge to the other world. But no, the blades continued to torment you, the wind rocked the wood to scare you. It was a test of courage. Too bad you never had it.

The wood creaked beneath your feet, icy blades traveling towards your skin. It was the end of your journey, or so you thought. The end of the path made its way thanks to a coincidence that caused the color white to disperse. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe that path would take you forever out of the village.

With a jump, you climbed onto dry land, stumbling in the process, forcing your body to crawl. White continued to predominate, your audacity continued to be punished. A red spot stood out among the snow. Your leg had been injured in that last gesture of bravery. You couldn't walk. You didn't have the strength to endure the pain either. You were hungry, and cold.

With your injured hands you crawled on the ground, in a last effort to take refuge in the trunk of a tree. With a groan of pain, you dug your back into the wood and squeezed your eyes shut. Hunger roared in your gut, the cold made you shiver. The end was approaching and your head turned towards what looked like a metal fence, elegantly guarded by two stone angels. It couldn't be Heaven, it wasn't cold in Heaven.

“(Y/N)...” a voice that came from nowhere made you open your eyes. White, just white. Your breathing calmed down with the sound of what was once your older sister, the only one who loved you and who left your home when she got married, to never return.

“Katia...” you whispered with a completely broken voice, cracked by the shivering of your teeth and the stinging of your leg. You couldn't see her, but you knew she was somewhere. “Help me…”

Silence, the sound of the wind was her response.

“(Y/N), can you help me with my homework?” another sweet voice spoke in your sister's place. Oh yes, that companion of yours who was always with you before she disappeared, your first love. Yes, you could have gotten married to escape your family, but even that couldn't be normal. You were always attracted to women and that led to hitting, screaming and many hungry nights.

The books said that when you die, your whole life goes through your mind. Maybe that's what you were feeling at that moment, but you just continued to suffer.

Exhaustion hit you suddenly, blood gushed from your wound and the voices stopped. Your eyes could no longer see the white color that surrounded your dying body. They could only see your frozen hands closing in on themselves reflecting your failure in trying to have a better life.

You sighed in defeat, looking up at the sky, looking at the only thing your eyes were able to see, those snowflakes falling on you without getting into your skin. The storm had subsided, or so it seemed.

Talking was never your strong point, and you refused to say any last words. No one could hear them, or so you thought. Something in front of you caught your attention. Your vision was blurry but something stood out among the snow, something black, maybe Death itself?

That black figure would have passed through the white color, blurred. Black, just black walked towards you slowly, with a mysterious air. Maybe the grim reaper wanted you to confess your sins, but even in that situation you were not capable of doing so.

You simply denied that glance at the strange figure, closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over you. Before you left completely, you noticed something on your shoulder, could it be the claws of death? Have a nice trip, (Y/N)...

Your head felt heavy as the darkness embraced you. You didn't feel cold anymore, just warmth, a relief from that horrible cold. Maybe it was the dark path of death. Maybe that black figure was leading you to your final judgment. But it wasn't the glow of the beyond that your half-open eyes saw, it was a dark room.

Your entire body was shaking under what looked like sheets. It didn't look like your shroud, it looked like a bed, a real one. You didn't see the dark branches of the Black Gods, there were no heavenly songs to welcome you, above you, there was only something terrifying.

A doll, a sinister doll was watching you from too close occupying your entire range of vision. Your heart raced but your muscles tensed preventing you from moving. The puppet watched you, tilting her head like a puppy, gasping in surprise when she saw you open your eyes completely.

“Oh, oh, oh... She's awake...” she hummed, making you grab the sheets in shock. You still had a hard time thinking clearly. You could only see a simple doll talking, something that shouldn't be happening.

The puppet moved a little closer to your frightened body and then got off the bed with a funny movement.

“Donna! Donna! She has woken up!” she yelled with a voice that made you grimace, almost covering your ears from the horrible impression. The doll ran towards the exit of that small room and you began to get more scared.

Quietly, alone, you sat on the bed with a groan of effort. Something tugged at your leg and you threw off the covers to find out what.

Little by little the memories came to your mind. You remembered that horrible wound you got on your leg, now hidden by a white bandage. It hurt, but it wasn't the same pain it had been... Well, you didn't know how long it had been.

Your eyes ran down your thin leg, healed by something you couldn't understand. Your gaze ran over your old clothes stained with the blood from your wounds. More bandages pulled at your skin, on your arm, on your fingers. You didn't look like you were dead, but you didn't feel alive either. Hell? It didn't seem like it. Nor did the dim darkness of that room resemble what you had read about Heaven.

So... Where were you? Who was that talking doll?

In your state of shock, you could slowly hear sounds that reminded you that you were alive: the creaking of wood, the sound of the wind hitting the windows, a terrifying and comforting atmosphere at the same time.

“Where…?” you whispered, your voice hoarse, listless, as if it had forgotten to function, as if even your body had assumed this was the end of you.

Your vague words were interrupted by other sounds, by footsteps approaching you, walking slowly towards the door. Desperate and scared, you looked for some kind of shelter, but pain, hunger and exhaustion prevented you from even considering that option.

Your breathing was nervous, your chest hurt every time it rose and fell. The creak of the door opening was like a signal that put all your senses on high alert.

That black figure, the one similar to death, slowly entered the room. It was not death, but a woman in mourning, a black dress, black veil, a shadow that walked slowly towards you.

Next to her, that terrible puppet jumping up and down, climbing onto the bed again, making you retreat sharply.

“You see? Look, look, the girl is alive,” the doll hummed in a satisfied tone.

The woman stopped next to your bed. You couldn't know exactly, but you could sense that unknown eyes were looking at you through that black veil. She was like a ghost, you couldn't even tell if that woman was really there, or if she was a figment of your imagination.

You couldn't speak, you didn't want to speak. You were scared, terrified by the puppet, inhibited by that authoritarian black figure. A part of your head caught your attention, as if it wanted to tell you something, as if by chance something was escaping you.

“Hello, hello, hello, hello,” the doll said, speaking directly to you, preventing something important from slipping through your thoughts, something that your mind wanted you to remember.

You opened your eyes wide, still scared, trying not to look at the puppet's sinister face.

“Let's see, let's see, let's see...” the doll murmured, walking to both sides of the bed. The lady still didn't take her eyes off yours. “Who are you?”

You didn't respond. You just stood contemplating the environment around you, with a strange feeling, with those thoughts that seemed to scream to be heard.

“Hello? Anyone there?” the puppet insisted, hitting your head with her wooden hands and shrugging her shoulders when, again, silence was your response. “This girl doesn't speak.”

The woman looked at the doll with a slow gesture, crossing her hands in front of her body, it seemed like she was sighing.

You, with wide open eyes, painfully brought your knees to your chest, thus hiding your fear, covering yourself from any danger. You still didn't know why, but everything that situation told you it was precisely that: danger.

“Are you mute? Deaf? What kind of problem do you have, silly girl?” the doll asked, clearly annoyed by your defensive and shy attitude.

You shook your head, hoping it was enough of a gesture for the puppet to stop harassing you with simple, but overwhelming questions.

“No? No, what?” she asked when she saw you shake your head. “Hey, you should show some gratitude to whoever saved your stupid life.”

Those words made you resent the pain, making you look again at your bandaged leg, at your healed wounds. No, there was no way it had been the puppet. That only left you one option, the lady in black.

You turned your head to look at the woman, who was breathing slowly, with an expectant pose, as if somehow she was as impatient as the doll to hear your answers.

“Have you saved my life?” you murmured in a tone so low that you feared you would have to repeat it again. Fortunately, that weak voice reached the ears of the woman who nodded slowly, with an elegant gesture.

“What do you mean with this simple you?” the doll protested, jumping on top of you, making you moan in pain from your injuries. “Show some respect, stupid mortal, do you know who you are talking to?” she rebuked you with a harsh tone. The lady didn't move and you started sweating when you realized it.

Somehow, your mind cleared, letting you know where you had seen that black figure before. The church, a priestess, Miranda, four Lords. Among them, a dark lady of dark presence. That dress, that veil. There could be no doubt, Donna Beneviento.

That authoritarian figure who sat to the right of Mother Miranda, ensuring that you, faithful villagers, remained calm. You never heard her speak, you never gave it importance.

Despite that, she was known in the village, precisely because of the evanescence of her existence. Lonely, sick, psychopathic, nothing good could be heard about her, a tormented woman, a black veil that hid the jaws of a monster ready to devour your body, to drink your blood. There was nothing you could do to prevent those images from crossing your mind when you had her that close. She didn't look like a monster. She saved your life, maybe to devour you later?

“Gods...” you murmured involuntarily, clasping your hands, closing your eyes tightly, bowing your head as a sign of respect. “La, La, La, Lady… Be, Be, Be, Beneviento…”

“Oh, so your memory has awakened, huh?” the doll joked, whose name you now remembered, Angie.

“I'm, I'm, I'm sorry... I'm not, no, no,” you stammered. Oh, how pathetic, you didn't even know what you wanted to say, if you wanted to apologize, or on the contrary beg for your life. “I, I, I, I'm sorry, I... My, my lady, I... I, I...”

“Eh, eh, eh, enough, we're not in church,” Angie complained, probably because of your meaningless babbling, one that made you tremble even more, wondering what your horrible fate would be.

“I, I'm sorry...” you murmured, clasping your hands even tighter, causing terrible pain in your wounds. With a strong smack, the doll separated them, causing you to moan in pain again.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” the puppet mocked, imitating your voice with a grace that would have been funny if it weren't for the situation you found yourself in. “Shut up now, silly.”

You obeyed, nodding profusely, letting a tear of terror and despair slide down your cheek.

“Tell me what your name is,” that voice was different, hoarse, velvety. It hadn't been the doll. It had come from the direction where Lady Beneviento was.

Your voice didn't seem to want to come out, but you forced it to. You couldn't die that way.

“My name is... (Y/N),” you murmured, trembling, with your breathing complicating the tranquility you wanted to feign.

She nodded slowly, without speaking.

“What, what am I doing here?” you dared to ask after a tense silence, one that scared you more than that doll. The lady in black looked at the puppet, which seemed to come to life with that look.

“Ahem, ahem, everyone pay attention, can you hear me in the background?” she said comically, as if she were starting some kind of show. “Okay, okay, I'm going to tell you the story of (Y/N), the silly girl who left her house in the middle of a storm. Well, well, it turns out that... Anyway, let's get to the point. That silly girl named (Y/N) appeared half dead in our territory. The end.”

You blinked after that brief explanation. That wasn't your question. The memories were slowly coming back to your mind. The question was, why had she saved you?

“I don't... I don't understand...” you whispered, running a hand over your forehead, noticing how the sweat betrayed your fear.

“What you don’t understand?” Angie asked, annoyed by your erratic behavior.

“I don't understand what I'm doing here, or where I am,” you said with a firmer tone, noticing how, surprisingly, you had an easier time speaking. It would be the adrenaline.

“You're in our house, silly girl. Donna saved you from freezing to death,” the doll explained, without meaning to do so, of course, crossing her arms. Your gaze was once again direct to the lady in black, to that powerful and dangerous Lord.

“Why?” you asked automatically. No, she couldn't take pity on a stupid villager like you. It didn't make sense. The dark figure shrugged, making your body nervous.

“Do I seem to know it?” Angie said, making the same gesture as her owner. “I guess she felt sorry for you.”

You nodded, wanting to thank her in a discreet way. Deep down you knew you weren't safe.

“Are you hungry?” Again, again that hoarse voice whispering through that black fabric. You shook your head, faking it in the worst way possible, as your stomach gave you away by growling indiscreetly.

Donna nodded slowly again, turning and walking towards the door, sparing one last look at the puppet, who stood up in a kind of military salute.

“At your command, ma'am, the girl will not move from here, ma'am,” she said comically, leaning over you, pretending she was watching you.

After a while of silence, under the doll's uncomfortable gaze, the door opened again. The lady carried in her arms a small tray with a steaming plate that caught your attention instantly. You hadn't eaten for more than two days.

“Look how nice, she brings you dinner in bed, then you'll complain about the service,” Angie joked, moving away from you so the lady could leave that bowl of soup in front of you, handing you a spoon.

You looked at it eagerly, but your instincts forced you not to sink the spoon into the plate, to keep yourself safe from any trap.

“But what are you doing, silly? Eat,” Angie snapped, moving your hand to guide the cutlery.

You hesitated, looking at the lady waiting expectantly at your side. Her breathing was the only thing that didn't make her look like a ghost. After a moment, you lifted a spoonful to your mouth, feeling the comforting warmth of that soup and its delicious flavor.

You devoured that dish eagerly, under the watchful gaze of the doll and lady, unconscious of their presence due to hunger.

“Wow, wow, we were hungry, huh?” the doll mocked, looking at the already empty plate.

“Angie, leave,” that soft, low, almost inaudible voice said. The doll obeyed instantly, leaving you alone. The fear inside you increased considerably.

The lady moved the tray away on a nearby table and pulled a chair to the side of your bed, sitting elegantly, looking at you, you didn't know how, you couldn't tell.

Your body automatically shrunk, moving as far away from Donna as possible, not wanting to be close to her, expecting the worst. It never came, just a sigh after an eternity of silence.

“Why did you want to die?” the lady asked, breaking you out of your fear, making you turn your eyes towards her, making you shrink even more into yourself, shaking your head. “I don't like to talk either, but I think it's nice to answer when someone asks you a question, don't you think?”

“I didn't want to die,” you whispered, you understood that phrase as a veiled threat.

“You have left your house in the middle of a storm, you have crossed the bridge, you have entered my territory. I guess you know what happens when someone does that,” she said with that melodic voice, with that accent that was unknown to you.

“Yes, my lady,” you answered tiredly, with your heartbeat sounding louder than your own voice.

“Mm, then, why?” she asked again. The tone of her voice revealed that it was not comfortable for her to communicate with you at all. You almost preferred the doll's irreverence to that somber voice.

“Why haven't you killed me like the others?” you responded, gaining confidence, taking advantage of the weakness that you also had, an extreme shyness and no desire to socialize.

“Is that what you wanted?” she asked back, with a more aggressive tone.

“No,” you answered in a dry tone, looking away, hissing at the throbbing pain in your leg.

“Then speak. What were you doing in my territory?” she asked again, getting nervous, playing with her hands surely preventing her nerves from ruining this attempt at conversation.

“I got lost,” you whispered, looking away again, remembering the color white, the cold, the pain, the hunger...

“You got lost,” she repeated, with a dark voice, as if she didn't believe your words.

“I just wanted to... Escape...” you finally said, gripping the sheets tightly. “…To leave this damn village.”

“Oh, and why is that?” she wanted to know, relaxing the movement of her hands.

“Because...” you said, shutting up instantly, surpassing your ability to communicate clearly, lying on the bed and covering yourself with the sheets, hoping that this dangerous woman would take the hint.

A sigh preceded the sound of the chair moving, the feeling of her arms picking up the empty tray, the sound of her heels moving away from you, the slamming of the door, leaving you in the most absolute but comfortable solitude.

Sleep and fatigue had been stronger than your survival instinct, perhaps a few hours of sleep would help you clear your mind.

“What is this, silly?” the doll asked, rummaging through your old backpack.

The day had started strange. When you woke up, you had breakfast served on your nightstand. You didn't see the lady all morning, but, fortunately or unfortunately, the doll began to keep you company.

“Those are my books,” you whispered, snatching the object from her in a defensive manner. Those were your only friends, your only companions.

“Oh. Do you like to read?” Angie asked, with that sinister curiosity.

You nodded, shielding your things from those cheeky wooden hands.

“Donna likes to read too,” Angie said, with a listless voice, reaching into your backpack again. “Oh, oh, what is this?” she said, taking out a small doll, your small doll, the one that your sister Katia gave you when you were little, the one that served as a reminder that your sister really existed, and was not a creation of your head when you felt so alone.

“Give me that,” you protested, stretching your arms to reach the doll. Angie was faster than you, and she dodged you with a mocking laugh.

“No, no, take it from me if you can,” she taunted, dancing comically out of your reach, your beloved doll held in a way that made you burn with rage.

“Basta, Angie,” a voice that came through the door hissed, Donna. The doll stopped teasing and the lady in black bent down to pick up the doll and look at it curiously, sitting back down in the chair next to you.

You flinched again, still scared by her presence.

“Mm,” the lady murmured, observing that doll closely. “Double stitched dress, fog gray tone. Two days of manufacturing, pale color. If I'm not mistaken, it has to be...” she whispered, to herself, folding the doll's dress, noticing a number written on the porcelain. “Yes, number 345.”

After saying those numbers, her hands reached out to you, returning you to your dear companion, which you took with trembling hands and a frown.

“It's funny, I made that doll more than 15 years ago,” she commented, relaxing in the chair, without taking that mysterious look off of you.

“You... Did you make this doll?” you asked with a hoarse voice, looking at the porcelain face, one worn by time. The lady nodded slowly, sighing, as if she too was nervous. You didn't understand why.

“Yes,” she replied coldly, crossing her arms. “It was a commission from a certain Nikolai Dinovic, for her little daughter Katia. Do those names sound familiar to you? Or are you a little thief?”

“I'm not a thief,” you protested carelessly. You could be anything, but you never stopped being honest, not even when you were starving. “Katia was my sister.”

“Your sister,” the lady repeated, moving, uncomfortable again, nervous.

You nodded again, confused by this strange attitude.

“I have always been lucky to have a good memory, (Y/N). I'm afraid I didn't know the Dinovic family had another daughter,” she said with an inquisitive, distrustful voice.

You were not surprised by that information at all.

“I guess so,” you sighed, squeezing the doll in your hands.

“Are you some kind of impersonator? Have you come to kill me?” she asked suddenly, with a gruff voice, clenching her fists tightly, until her knuckles turned the color of snow.

“No, no,” you said, scared by that reaction.

“How do you explain that I don't know anything about your existence then? Speak,” she said with a demanding tone, surely suppressing the urge to suffocate you.

“Not even I'm sure I really exist,” you confessed with a low voice, with fearful sweat soaking your forehead again.

“Sciocchezze...” the lady murmured, with that same somber tone. “Explain yourself before I lose my patience.”

Your desire to flee from that place contrasted with the fear you had. You wouldn't gain a better life by confessing your miserable existence, but you wouldn't lose more than what you had at the time, a roof over your head from the cold.

“I'm not surprised you don't know anything about me, no one does,” you said in a low tone, looking away from her. “I was never treated like a member of the family.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured, giving you pause to continue.

“My... My brothers are the strongest in the village, or so they say, but I... I'm no good for anything,” you said, noticing how your eyes began to water. “Since I was little I was misunderstood. I didn't want to talk to anyone… I didn't love anyone other than my sister Katia. When she left I… I closed more into myself…. I... I will never be what they expect.”

“So what do they expect?” she asked, with a dark tone, but a bit softer. You shrugged, playing with the doll in your hand.

“I suppose someone who doesn't spend the day reading books, someone who is capable of getting married, or at least not being so...”

“Weird,” the lady finished, making you sob and wipe your tears. “I see, that's why you escaped.”

You could only nod.

“Mm, very well, weird girl, you can stay here until you recover. If you want to leave before... Well, I'm not going to stop you, but that will mean death for you and you don't want that, or so you told me,” the lady commented, getting up from the chair, picking up the book that you had on the table, taking a quick look at it before abandoning you again.

The days passed slowly.

Your leg was getting better and better, you even had the strength to walk. Donna fed you, she kept you strong, you didn't know why, but you stopped wondering. With each of the trays of food that she brought you, there was an extra gift, a book, each time a different one. A kind and unexpected gesture, but it didn't surprise you. After all, she had saved your life. That was the strangest thing of all.

With your spirits still low, but with more desire to live than ever, you began to feel more and more comfortable. The lady's visits were limited to mealtimes, but the words that came out of her mouth were more and more frequent. You assumed that once your identity was known, you were no longer a threat. You understood that feeling, you thought the same way.

 Did you really have as many things in common as you began to think?

“Get up, weird girl, you're coming with me,” the lady said one day, leaning out of your door, interrupting one of your quiet moments of reading.

You, trembling at what that order might imply, obeyed, leaning on an old crutch to help you walk. You never really got to see that house, just the top floor. Your clumsy walk down the stairs made you notice a detail that you had overlooked: that portrait, the portrait of a beautiful woman, with cold eyes, with that puppet in her arms. Your mouth opened slightly, as if to ask the lady if it was her.

You regretted doing so, continuing your descent, without taking your eyes off that cold gaze.

Walking in silence, you went further down, to the basement, to a sinister room that looked like a kind of workshop, her workshop.

“Sit down,” the lady ordered you, pointing to a chair abruptly, as if she herself wasn't sure what she was doing. You nodded, walking slowly and obeying that direct order. “Do you know how to sew, weird girl?”

“I…” you stammered as she sat down next to you, leaning closer to an old sewing machine. “A, a little.”

“Va bene... I guess that will do,” she commented, looking at some pieces of fabric and a needle, which she handed you roughly. “I want you to sew those tissues. I know it's a simple thing, but I waste too much time doing it and... Well, since you're here, sleeping and eating for free, at least you'll be useful to me.”

You, embarrassed by the harsh truth of those words, looked at the pattern book that Donna left on the table and nodded, threading the needle with trembling hands.

The two of you sewed in silence, a heavy silence, interrupted by your nervous breathing, by the noises of that old machine.

“Ouch...” you protested, when the needle sank into your flesh instead of the fabric. Without meaning to, you had diverted your gaze to the visible part of her face. You had been hypnotized for some reason.

That moan caught the attention of the lady, who abruptly grabbed your hand to look at your wound with a tired sigh.

“You clumsy girl,” she murmured in a discreet, but slightly unpleasant voice, which made you shrink in the chair.

“I'm sorry,” you said with a broken voice, while the softness of her hands caressed yours, putting them in a position that prevented you from sticking the needle into yourself again.

The trembling of your hands didn't go unnoticed by Donna, who snorted with a nervous laugh, turning away from you instantly and shaking her head.

“You have no idea...” she sighed, returning to her wrists, with a tone of mockery, or annoyance that made you freeze in the chair. “You think you're weird, huh? How did you say... A misunderstood girl?”

“I...” you stammered, trying not to tear the fabric out of your nervousness, not understanding that question so out of context.

“You're stupid, (Y/N),” Donna growled, stopping sewing, piercing your chest with one of those mysterious looks.

That made your pent-up anger come out in the form of a nervous gasp.

“Why are you telling those things to me?!” you shouted, standing up abruptly, offended by the contempt the lady was making of your miserable life.

“You don't know what it's like to be alone in this world, to have your entire family despise you, to live alone and malnourished because it seemed like a waste of time and food to my stupid parents. How can someone who doesn't know what it's like to lose everything, to not believe in her own existence make fun of me?” you continued.

“Wow, it seems like you want to talk now, weird girl, but I advise you to tone it down a bit,” she said, mockingly, crossing her arms in a threatening manner.

“Don't laugh at me...” you hissed, risking your fragile existence again. You forgot who you were talking to. “What do you know about my life?”

“I know enough,” she responded dryly, abruptly “Poor helpless girl who is alone in this world, who thinks she is special because she likes to read... You have no idea what suffering is. You are a whiny and capricious girl who has left home because she didn't like being the weakest in her family.”

“You don't know what it's like to be ignored by your own family! To be the black sheep of the village! To go hungry because your life is not important to the people who are supposed to love you!”

“Oh, I don’t know?” she said, defiantly, getting up from the chair, facing you.

“No, you don’t” you responded furiously, not understanding this very different treatment, far from that strange kindness from the beginning.

“Do you know something, (Y/N)? I think you're wrong about me,” Donna murmured, her hands on her hips, relaxing her tone mysteriously.

“You are wrong about me too,” you responded defiantly, with a confidence that you thought did not exist.

“Idiota,” she said before sitting down again.

“I'm not an idiot!” you screamed furiously, making your screams echo off the stone walls of the old workshop.

“Aren’t you? Che cosa siete?” she asked, with that dark tone that made you shiver.

“I'm... I'm... (Y/N),” you said with a guttural voice, just as dark as hers. “I may not be a strong or brave girl. I may not like people, all people ignore me but…”

“But,” she interrupted.

“But it's because they don't know that I'm really better than them...”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I... I may be weird, but at least I'm not stupidly ignorant, at least I refuse to follow the path that is expected of me, a path of no return, where my life will end just like my sister's. No, I never wanted that for myself, I want to be... I just want to be... Free.”

“Mm, it wasn't that hard to believe in yourself, right?” Donna murmured, returning to her sewing, leaving you glued to the floor. “You know what? I guess you and me aren't so different after all.”

“You must be kidding,” you murmured, surprised, but with your eyes on the floor, letting yourself fall back into the chair.

“Are you calling me a liar?” she rebuked you with that terrifying abruptness.

You shook your head, overwhelmed, wanting to disappear from that place.

“You say you don't know what it's like to be alone...” she said in a lower tone, almost a whisper. “I have been alone all my life. My parents died when I was ten years old, I never had friends. I never talked to anyone. Do you think you're unlucky? That's because you've never known what it feels like to have everyone you approach trembling with fear.”

“I don't...” you said, surprised by that confession, thus understanding the lady's attitude.

“Stai zitto and keep sewing. I’m tired of hearing your voice.”

“I’m tired of being with you,” you growled, making the lady turn towards you, but continue sewing moments later.

Your relationship may have been tense, with those small problems that her actions revealed, but deep down, you were starting to feel a little... Well, you didn't know, you didn't know why her presence was increasingly appreciated by you.

“Why you don’t you leave? You can walk now,” the lady commented, pretending that she was ignoring you.

“I was hoping you would say that,” you said, ironic as ever, outgoing as you had never been.

“Okay, leave, then.”

“Fine,” you said, leaving the sewing supplies on the table and getting up awkwardly from the chair. “Thanks for everything.”

“You're welcome, weird girl,” Donna murmured, with trembling hands, with a voice that didn’t express the passivity her words intended.

“I'm not a weird girl,” you said, turning around awkwardly with the help of the crutch.

“That's what you said,” Donna said, getting up from the chair and walking slowly towards you.

“I don't think that way anymore,” you confirmed, after her insults made you see the reality of your existence, only you had not yet realized that it was thanks to Donna and her erratic attitude. Maybe it hadn't been a coincidence.

“Well, I'm glad to hear it,” she commented, amused, joining her hands in front of her body, like the first day you were in that mansion.

“I... Really, thank you, for saving my life,” you repeated in a calmer tone. “And for, well, for… For that.”

“For what?” she asked, tilting her head comically, pretending she didn't know what you were talking about.

“I know you don't think those horrible things you've said to me,” you whispered, also getting a little closer.

“You are weird, but observant, (Y/N),” she murmured with a slightly mocking tone, but without stopping walking towards you. “I really hope you can find your place out there. At least you can do it.”

“I don't understand you, Donna,” you said, shaking your head, confused by the melancholy that her words emanated.

“What you don’t understand?” she asked, already close, too close to you.

“You are supposed to be scary, terrifying but... These days have been... well, totally different from what I expected. First, you save my life, you feed me, you offer me shelter... Then, you see that I like to read and you bring me a different book every day. You didn't have to do it and still, you did it, and on top of that you help me to overcome my complexes.”

“I may have simply seen something of myself in you, (Y/N). Or maybe I'm just as crazy in the head as they say,” Donna whispered slowly, extending her hand towards yours, making the trembling of your body return in a slightly stranger way.

“No, I don't think so,” you said, letting her hand hold yours. “I don't think you are what people say.”

“No?” she asked, moving away from you a bit, letting your hand fall and bringing hers to her face, to her black veil, slowly removing it, thus revealing her true face. “What do you think about this?”

You looked at her, your eyes roaming over her features, her undeniable beauty, that scar that seemed to be the cause of her shame. You then had another revelation, you had the sensation that your leg was weakening again, as if it had not completely healed.

“It seems to me...” you murmured, involuntarily getting closer, remembering those cold eyes from the portrait on the stairs.

“A monster, right?” she said, her eye shining.

“No... I, I don't think I want to leave.”

“I don't want you to leave,” she whispered, also approaching, raising her hands to your face while yours traveled to her waist.

“I won't leave,” you said, closing your eyes, moving closer to her lips, unable to contain the desire for her to be your first kiss, also your last.

“Stay with me...” Donna said, before daring to close the distance between you, placing her lips on yours, confirming the clumsiness of the inexperience of her actions, the clumsiness of yours, the romanticism of those new caresses for both of us, of that feeling that had been slowly blooming for a long time, in a way so subtle and imperceptible that only with that kiss you could understand.

“I want you to be my weird girl...” she murmured into your lips, not wanting to stop kissing you, caressing you, praising you with that affection so unknown, and so desired for you.

“I will be whatever you want, only with you...”

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Possessive?

[Mean Girls 2004] Janis Ian x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.45k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Mentions of feeling possessive, language (?), implications of feeling like a burden.

[A/N]: This is based off of the movie from 2004, not the musical, but I changed a few things to help it better fit today: the characters have modern cellphones and use social media such as TikTok and Instagram.

Enjoy!

 Janis was well aware of how her mannerisms could come across to others who didn’t understand her. She knew that sometimes, even if she tried her hardest to prove otherwise, she came across as overprotective and possessive of her loved ones. When she had been friends with Regina back in middle school, things started to spiral. Regina soon started dating, only a few months shy of moving up into her first year of high school, and started to ignore Janis more and more, especially once things were official with her very first boyfriend. Janis, who had grown accustomed to spending every day with Regina, would text and call her relentlessly. The two of them would make plans, only for the blonde to cancel last minute without letting her know, essentially ghosting her each time.

After this happened a few times, Janis grew apart from the others and left the school for the rest of the year, cutting ties with Regina. When she returned to start her Freshman year of high school, she had a whole new style. Finding comfort in her new gothic aesthetic, she finally began to express herself the way she wanted, long forgetting about the bright shades of pink Regina would force her to wear in middle school. Because of this sudden change, Regina made it known she didn’t approve by convincing others to poke fun at her, progressively growing more aggressive with her bullying. After all, how would it look if she was still friends with the "weird punk girl?"

Soon after she started to become an outcast, Janis distanced herself from others, all except Damian and her fellow art lovers. She found solace in the company of her friends. She sat with them at lunch, chatting away about art projects and contests coming up in town. It was hard for her to connect with others outside of her circle, too worried there would be another repeat of what happened with the one girl she thought would be her best friend for life.

A student transferred into the school one day, however, and immediately caught Janis’s eye. She was introduced to the class, gleefully waving to everyone as she spoke her name, and was guided to sit beside the goth at the back of the classroom. Right away, Janis grew obsessed with her. From the moment they first spoke, [Y/N] was always on her mind. She was dressed similarly to Regina, although she never wore pink. Instead, she wore muted shades of yellow, green, and blue. Her style was comforting in comparison to the eyesore the Plastics wore everyday.

Even with her brighter clothes and nature, [Y/N] seemed to have more in common with Janis than either of them would’ve thought. Both were openly vocal about their opinions, not necessarily caring about anyone else’s views, albeit [Y/N] tended to take on a more open-minded approach. The two of them could also frequently be heard coming back at someone with a clever, snarky remark when insulted or teased. What drew Janis to her most, however, was her love for art. She was silently grateful that the two of them shared the same art class. Eagerly, they’d babble away about what either of them were working on. For each group project, Janis would ask if she could work with [Y/N] instead of whoever she was already paired with, to which the teacher would reluctantly agree.

Rather shortly after their first meeting together, Janis invited [Y/N] to her table, not entirely surprised to see that she got along with everyone immediately upon sitting down. Damian noticed Janis’s interest in her instantly, and once again, Janis wasn’t surprised when he started to taunt her relentlessly for it. He’d even begun to message her back and forth. Here and there, when the texts would grow too frequent too shortly, she’d block him for an hour or two before unblocking him to message him back and ask if he wanted to hang out.

One day, while mindlessly swirling her spoon around in her half full pudding cup as she curled up on the couch, Janis sheepishly admitted that he was right about her feelings for the newcomer to their group. Damian cheered triumphantly and bragged about how he knew it the whole time, laughing when he received a playful elbow jab to the arm or gut. Eventually, he set the teasing aside and asked her if she planned on confessing to her and asking her out. She shrugged, expressing her worry that [Y/N] wasn’t into girls or that she would laugh at her for taking an interest in her. Damian stared at her for a moment as if she were crazy.

“Uh, hello? Janis, are you insane? Have you not heard the way she talks about women? There’s no way in hell she isn’t as gay as you.” Janis rolled her eyes at his words, but reflected on them regardless, wondering to herself if she might have a chance with her. “Well, yeah, maybe. But what if she does say yes to dating, and then Regina or someone else finds out and makes fun of her for it? I don’t want her to deal with all of that shit. For fuck's sake, she just joined the school.” Damian shrugged. “Hey, she seems to be pretty tough. Like you.”

After a few weeks of planning, cowering, and chickening out of her plans, Janis finally managed to invite [Y/N] to her house when her parents were away for the night. The two of them watched a few movies while snacking on junk food, gossiped for a bit, and then bundled up under blankets as the mood shifted. Janis had turned in her spot on the sofa to gaze over at [Y/N], her eyelids lowered as she got lost in thought. [Y/N] noticed Janis’s staring after a while and questioned her about it, worried she had something on her face as she subconsciously swiped at her mouth. Janis chuckled at her motion and shook her head.

“No, nothing’s on your face. I just…” She sucked in a breath, unsure of how to carry out her confession. Her mind wandered back to a few hours prior when she had been talking to Damian about what she should say. She sighed, her teeth catching her bottom lip for a moment before she finally looked back up at the girl seated in front of her, who was now gazing at her with curiosity.

It took several tries, but Janis was eventually able to tell her about her feelings. There was an overwhelming wave of relief that washed over her upon learning that [Y/N] was interested in women. Uncharacteristically, the goth fell silent, too shy to ask the question burning on her tongue. Her eyes dropped down to focus on her nails picking at one another as she tried her best to steel her nerves. Finally, after swallowing the lump she hadn’t even realized formed in her throat, she managed to squeak her question out.

“Would you wanna go out with me?”

She freaked out after a soft giggle came as her reply. Her head lowered, allowing her to hide her disappointment-filled eyes behind her fringe. “Sorry,” [Y/N] murmured, gently grasping Janis’s shoulder. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. Not about your confession anyway. I’ve just never seen you this shy before. It’s nice seeing this side of you.”

Janis sighed softly in relief at her words, smiling and finally lifting her head back up. “So, is that a yes?” [Y/N] grinned, shifted over on the couch cushion, and placed a small peck to the ravenette’s cheek. “Of course it’s a yes, you dork. How could I say no?”

After talking about a few boundaries after they started dating, Janis began to proudly show her girlfriend off, sneering at anyone who would glance at her wrong. And just as if it were clockwork, Janis was once again starting to come across as possessive. [Y/N] would record a small video or take a quick selfie to post to her Instagram or TikTok, and Janis would always be seen in the frame in one way or another. She’d do whatever she could come up with, wanting to set a reminder that [Y/N] was hers.

When taking a picture in bed to send to a friend on Snapchat or through chat, Janis was touching her in some way, whether it be an arm draped casually around her waist, stroking her hair, or just laying directly on top of her. When taking a mirror selfie, she’d stand behind her and hug her from behind, or casually be doing something in the reflection, such as untying and retying her boots or pretending to check something on her phone. She wanted it to be known that [Y/N] was taken. When they had to go their separate ways for a bit, she'd not-so-casually drape one of her trademark army jackets over [Y/N]'s shoulders, kiss her on the cheek, and tell her she'd see her in a bit. Then, when she was in classes without her, Janis would start sketching [Y/N] from memory. She'd come back to them later when [Y/N] was in front of her to clean the illustrations up.

She wasn’t overbearing with her tendencies, however. Not once did she have a problem with [Y/N] going out on her own or wearing something that showed off her body. On the contrary, she encouraged her to wear what she was comfortable with and be independent out in public. After all, she wasn’t going to be able to stay with her every second of every day, even if she wished she could. She’d compliment her on each of her outfits and even make suggestions that would help her feel more confident, such as framing certain parts of her body.

And after what happened with Regina a few years prior, she made sure not to overwhelm [Y/N] with calls and texts where she was constantly questioning her about where she was at all times. There were times when she would call back-to-back, but those instances only happened when she grew worried. Janis would ask her to let her know when she made it home safely, but if she never received that text, she would start calling to make sure she was okay.

The only time she would make it clear that she was going to go with [Y/N], no matter where she was going, was when she knew Regina or someone close to Regina would be there. The last thing she wanted was [Y/N] being cornered and made fun of without her there to stand in. She knew [Y/N] was fine on her own and that she could defend herself just fine, but she also knew Regina–she knew how brutal and manipulative she could be. She didn’t want [Y/N] to suffer with the same kind of bullying she already had to deal with herself.

During arguments with other students, including Karen and Gretchen, Janis usually blew them off with a quick, witty remark and walked away, not wanting to deal with the headache they would cause if she gave in. Whenever she saw [Y/N] being picked on, however, she would lose her cool. Insults and sarcastic comments would spill from her lips with a terrifying accuracy, never afraid to cause a scene if it meant the person picking the fight would leave [Y/N] alone. More often than not, a teacher, staff member, or even [Y/N] herself would have to pull Janis away and help her calm down. Not even Damian had ever seen her grow so aggressive towards someone–even when Regina was involved.

On more than one instance, Damian truly thought Janis was about to get into a fistfight with whoever she was arguing with.

Even when the two of them were alone, whether it be at [Y/N] or Janis’s house, the goth would get defensive over her. There had been a time towards the end of the first semester when a new dance was growing popular on TikTok, and [Y/N] hopped on the trend almost immediately. It wasn’t necessarily suggestive, but it certainly wasn’t modest either. To add onto the tone of the song, [Y/N] put on a bit of a revealing outfit to fit in with the other dancers.

She had set her phone up in the den of Janis’s home, having been there for the past couple of days to keep her company while her parents were away on a vacation that Janis didn’t want to have any part of. As the countdown timer for the video went off, Janis happened to peek over from the doorway leading into the kitchen, wondering what was going on. As soon as the dance started, that familiar feeling took over her senses. A couple of seconds in, she leaned against the doorway, watching as [Y/N] cussed to herself under her breath, stepped forward, crouched down, picked her phone up, and stopped the recording.

As she started the video over and repositioned it and herself to try again, Janis silently stepped forward into the frame. When [Y/N] shifted to let her hips move back a bit for a move, the ravenette--now standing directly behind her--moved closer and slipped her arms around the shorter girl’s waist. She tugged her firmly against her own torso and gently dropped her chin onto [Y/N]’s shoulder, glaring at the camera and lifting her hand to flip it off.

She knew Regina was likely going to watch the video if it were to be posted, so she wanted to send a “friendly” reminder that [Y/N] is off limits and she has someone with her to help her fight off any teasing she may throw her way. In the back of her mind, she knew Regina would comment on how controlling and possessive she was coming across as–a repeat of their final year in middle school–but she didn’t care at that point. It would crush her if she knew someone was making fun of her girlfriend when she could easily prevent it. Or, at the very least, lessen how aggressive it was.

[Y/N] smiled and chuckled at her actions, letting the pad of her thumb glide across Janis’s arm as she leaned back to kiss her softly on the cheek. “Hun, it’s fine. I’m yours, okay? You know that.” Hesitantly, Janis let go of her and stepped back, allowing her to stop the recording again. She typed something into the caption, then started the video over, asking Janis to let her finish the dance. Janis agreed and stood back a bit further.

She watched as [Y/N] carried out the entirety of the dance. At the end, there were still a few seconds left where the song played freely. [Y/N] improvised a few moves as she chuckled, pulling Janis towards her at the end and letting her wrap her arms around her again. She pressed another kiss to the girl’s cheek and slid forward in an attempt to end the recording. Janis caught her, however, by carefully gripping her hips and tugging them back against her own. She pressed a kiss to [Y/N]’s shoulder with a small smile before finally letting her go.

 She watched with a content grin as [Y/N] picked up her phone and twirled around to face her, smiling ear to ear as she bounced over to stand in front of her again. She tapped a few buttons on her phone before pulling the ravenette into a hug. “I honestly didn’t think I was gonna be able to figure out how to do the whole dance in one go,” she murmured as she leaned back, smirking at the feeling of Janis’s arms resting around her waist.

With a quick motion, she slipped from the goth’s embrace long enough to grab ahold of her hand and tug her towards the couch. As she did so, she snatched the remote from the coffee table and plopped herself down on the middle cushion. Janis followed suit, sitting down closer to the armrest. She watched as [Y/N] clicked the TV on and scrolled to YouTube to browse through the random videos suggested to her, asking which one they should watch first. Janis shrugged and hummed. “Whatever sounds good to you.”

After a moment or two, [Y/N] managed to settle on a video and turned it on. Before she could get comfortable, her phone began to ding and buzz repeatedly, prompting her to glance down at the several notifications popping up on her lockscreen.

She looked over at Janis, who had clearly noticed the sudden attention, and beamed at her. “It’s just people on TikTok talking about the dance. Nothing bad.” She held up her phone to reveal the likes and comments rolling in on the videos she had just posted. Surprised, Janis’s eyebrows raised as she scanned the screen. “You posted it? I figured you would’ve waited until you didn’t have to worry about me ruining it.”

“What? Why would you ruin it?” Janis shrugged and averted her gaze, glancing between the carpeted floor and the TV screen. Her arm lifted far enough for her chipped, painted nails to scratch anxiously at the back of her neck. “Ah, I don’t know. I guess I’m just worried I’m too much sometimes. I don’t want you to think I’m, like, obsessed or something. I mean, I am, but not in some kind of controlling way, y’know? At least, that’s not how I’m trying to have it come across.” She murmured on a bit longer, trailing off and sighing when [Y/N] laughed softly at her rambling. “Sorry,” she whispered much softer.

“No, no, don’t apologize. I think it’s cute when you ramble like that. And don’t worry, it’s not coming across like that at all. Not to me, anyway. In fact, I actually find it kind of attractive when you get all protective over me.” Janis’s head perked up at her words. “Really?” “Yep.”

She smiled, her tense features softening as she nodded. “I’m glad.”

She glanced back at the TV for a second before shuffling forward, sliding behind [Y/N] to hold her and let her lean into her chest. Softly, she let her head plant itself against the girl’s shoulder, hiding the lower half of her face. She peeked out from behind [Y/N]’s hair and watched her tap away randomly at different posts she scrolled past, liking and saving a few here and there. After a moment, Janis let her hand slide up [Y/N]’s torso and down her arm to link their hands together. She squeezed her hand gently.

Too shy to ask right out, Janis leaned her head to the side to nudge [Y/N]’s neck. “You, uh,” she started. “You don’t think I’m too much, do you?” Although she couldn’t see it, a wide smile cracked across [Y/N]’s lips. She clicked back onto TikTok and onto her profile, pulling up her recent video and angling it to let Janis see it from her position and read the caption.

Janis grinned upon seeing her girlfriend’s dance on the screen, humming and nodding once it was finished. [Y/N] swiped to the next video she had posted. Janis then watched the second video, cringing a bit at her own actions being played back to her, but glancing down at the caption that caught her eye.

My knight in shining armor shielding me from all the creeps.🤺❤️

She chuckled softly and swatted teasingly at [Y/N]’s arm. “You dork. You know how corny that sounds?” [Y/N] laughed with her and nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s the point. You know I love a good cliche.�� They smiled at each other, slowly leaning in to share a small, chaste kiss. [Y/N] leaned further into Janis’s touch. She sighed at the feeling of the strong, warm arms around her waist, focusing on the comfort for a moment before speaking again to finally answer the question she had been asked.

Her free hand slid down after dropping her phone, allowing her to cup the side of Janis’s face that wasn’t pressed against her neck. The tips of her fingers gingerly fiddled with the tips of her fringe that tickled her skin, brushing them away enough to let her stroke the soft skin on the ravenette’s cheek. At the feathery feeling, Janis’s eyes fluttered shut. She sighed silently and opened her eyes again when she heard [Y/N] speaking.

“But no, I don’t ever think you’re too much.”

[sidney-scarlet]

Sidney Lennox Scarlet --

they/them, bi

hot/mystic plus size goth bc many of the Scarlets I've seen are scrawny and someone needs to bring some Ass to this cursed bloodline

bartender and occasional kitschy ghost/vampire tour guide out of new orleans

more bio under the cut to save dash space.

if you want to read my crackpot theories, try here.

has dyed the Scarlet ash blonde a blue/black, but still has the tell-tale sunken eyes.

needs glasses but hates wearing them, only does so in private

loves horror movies/novels, especially about the monsters that claim louisiana as their home. it makes them feel less alone to imagine they aren't the only strange thing out there.

for a long time during their teenage years, thought their inexplicable psychic impulses were an extremely aggressive symptom of their ocd/the medication they were on. took them ages to accept that they were real and tell Vivian.

doubts most flirtation/attention from strangers for their looks -- they work very hard to keep their weird gut feelings from manifesting on the outside, and they know once someone gets a load of that, they'll lose interest.

that said, fully leans into saying that weird shit out loud around receptive parties when they know they can get away with it. it's there, they might as well acknowledge it, right?

was wondering if the holler was small enough their nose ring might be a problem, then saw Avery's angel bites and was relieved. does it maybe mark them both as outsiders? who's to say.

misses their mother terribly, but has gotten better about coping with it.

chose the name Sidney as a tribute to their favorite final girl, Sidney Prescott. (Lennox was for Vivian's favorite musician, Annie Lennox.)

does actually love their terrible roommate, Truck the cat. Loves all cats, and is doing their damnedest to respect Frou-frou's space.

didn't really have any big life ambitions, happy to live in N.O. with the rich culture of spirits that reside there, but sometimes dreams of moving to a brand new highrise in a city with less... history. just to get a break. turns out they and Tabitha will have that in common.

Vivian actually moved the them to the city before she died, wanting the two of them to spend some time somewhere fun and make good memories at what she felt would be the end of her life. Sidney kind of wonders if moving would be betraying her somehow, even now.

has the Lovers of Valdaro tattooed on their thigh, and a tattoo of the knife from the Scream films on the opposite upper arm.

partially at Pearlanne's funeral bc they think Vivian would want to pay respects, but also bc they miss having family to be close to. they secretly, desperately hope on the ride up that they'll click with Tabitha and have a friend again.

currently romancing Reese in my first run through with them, but I have a branch saved for Avery when (when, dammit!!) they become available in chapter 5.

[blogger360ncislarules]

Earlier on in Season 4 of Ghosts, Hetty can be heard declaring: “In this most urgent moment of need, my heretofore dormant ghost power will emerge!” It did not, in fact, emerge for the Gilded Age ghost, who is the only one without a power in the core ensemble.

However, I recently spoke with Rebecca Wisocky about her guest role on The Sex Lives of College Girls and her upcoming arc on Ghosts as Hetty Woodstone — an arc the actress had a juicy plot point to tease.

“We will learn Hetty’s ghost power this season,” she confirmed.

On that exciting note, we delved further into Hetty’s backstory and what flashbacks Wisocky would love to explore in future outings. “There are two things that are really evocative and exciting to me that I hope we get to at some point,” she stated.

“One is the year-long period after Hetty first died, in which Sas, Thorfinn, and Isaac were trapped in the dirt so she wouldn’t have met them. She was alone — unless she met the basement ghosts — and without anyone to guide her in this afterlife experience. For an entire year, she watched her son move on, watched her house transform.”

“The other thing that I’m interested in is Hetty’s relationship with her mother. Really, all we know is that she was involuntarily institutionalized by her father. I would love to see that relationship and learn more about her mustachio sister, Margaret, too.”

“There are 1000s of years of history to play with these characters. I think there’s a great deal many stories to tell for all of them.”

Even so, Hetty has already had wonderful storylines this season, including a Halloween yard sale that displayed many of the Robber baroness’ worldly treasures on the front lawn.

“There were a lot of cool, weird old paintings that were altered to vaguely look like me — but centuries ago, in a very disturbing manner. Our production designer, Zoë Sakellaropoulo, I sing her praises all the time, and it’s yet another example of just how detailed and artful the design is for our show. But the penguin leashes really were a high note for me.”

“I, of course, don’t endorse anything like this in real life, not that it would exist, but Elias has the pension for making making various animals into stools, which is just very on-brand for Elias Woodstone.”

“I’ve been pitching that I want to work more with Román Zaragoza from Season 1,” she explained.

“I love him so much, and that’s a really fun duo. They’re very childlike in their desires. They went crazy trying to get the butterscotch candy out of Carol’s purse. So they’re all about being ravenous and gossipy together — that’s a whole lot of fun. It was a new dynamic, and I hope we see that diabolical team up to no good again.”

While Hetty and Sas’ gossip sessions will go down in infamy, the Hetty-centric episode “Holes Are Bad” has also become an integral part of Ghosts’ legacy. So, we revisited what might just be one of the series’ best episodes to date.

“It was risky to take that on, but we all felt very confident that the storyline could handle it, and that our show could deal with it with depth, humor and be disarming and also very comforting and surprising,” the actress recalled.

“We are very grateful that our fans responded to it in the way that they did. And I’m very moved with the stories that people have shared with me personally about depression and darkness and and the way suicide has touched their own families.”

As for whether this information about Hetty’s cause of death affected how Wisocky approached the character this season, she had a fantastic answer.

“Definitely, yes, but also, it doesn’t entirely define her either. There are so many things that go unsaid at any given moment, and that’s true of the human experience. It deepens the relationship that all these characters have with one another,” she expressed.

Oh, and Tretty? Wisocky knows how down-bad we are for Trevor and Hetty’s romantic shenanigans.

“I get messages all the time from people trying to uncover ways between the line about a little glance that Hetty gave, or a little thing that Trevor did, or the fact that we’re touching one another at any given time,” she shared.

The actress added that Ghosts fans aren’t the only ones eager to dissect that relationship: “Asher Grodman and I talk a lot about the long game of that relationship and that dynamic.”

“I’m so thrilled and feel personally gratified that people love them together because there was initially pushback about that relationship. People came to realize that it was a lot more exciting and strange than a normal romance, and I think it will continue to evolve. They will have a lot more to say to one another this season and beyond, and it’ll never be a simple romance. It’s always going to be a lot more complicated and diabolical than that.”

Female-forward, sex-positive characters are coming to the forefront of TV. The fact that Wisocky is guest-starring in Sex Lives of College Girls this season while playing a spirit with a recent sexual awakening on Ghosts delights the actress. 

“With over 100 years spanning them! Hetty is an early fledgling sex-positive feminist. Cut to 150 years later, and here are these girls tearing it up at Essex,” she remarked. “I love The Sex Lives of College Girls — I was a fan of that show. I think what Mindy Kaling and Justin Noble are doing with it is so funny and rumpus. And the young actors on that show are amazing.”

She first appears as Professor Dorfmann on The Sex Lives of College Girls Season 3 Episode 4 as a “very domineering, fickle, director and drama professor” with whom Wisocky had “a whole lot of fun” playing.

“I have a small arc, I did four episodes,” she revealed. “I work almost exclusively with one of the new series regulars, Gracie Lawrence, who is a powerhouse singer, actor, music, all around, awesome gal that I had so much fun torturing. Basically, my character puts her through the ringer in the theater program at Essex College for the duration of the season.”

“And I didn’t have to wear a corset for this one!”

[beemers-hell]

wait, so people can just make noncanon ebverse characters??? are there any rules/limits to this? AS WELL AS I keep seeing gorgeous fancharacters on these ref sheet thingies similar to the ones you officially do, like the bios? and I swore you posted that template but I CANNOT FIND IT 💥

Yeah!! I'm chill with people making fan characters for ebverse, I just ask everyone to understand their shit isn't gonna be canon and to not be weird about it lol. Which like, 99% of people have been normal about it so far so I'm still cool with it! Anyway I like seeing what people can come up with using my ideas for how worlds work n shit so I'm cool with yall getting silly about it!

For examples of CANON ebverse characters, here's a link to the ebverse world Toyhouse folder for canon characters!

For examples of ebverse FAN characters, here's a link to the ebverse world Toyhouse folder for non canon characters!

Here's a list of links to essential/not super important but useful to know ebverse lore:

EBVERSE MECHANICS / WORLD LORE STARTING GUIDE

Are powers/hosts a recent thing? Can normal people still be born? What happens to people who die that don't become ghosts?

At what age do powers manifest?

Can magical girls exist? Do people see their powers as a curse or good thing? Does the strength of their powers depend on how bad their fate is?

Do people who share the same powers also share the same eyes and/or fate?

Is being a host genetic?

How does possession work?

How fucked up can a host get in their possession form?

Can a ghost possess their host against their will? Do people still retain their powers if they become ghosts?

What happens if a ghost and host's relationship is unhealthy?

Can a host be a system even though they already have a ghost?

GHOSTS CAN AGE?

The potential of ghosts being related to their hosts?

And finally, a link to the base template that I use for my OC's normal refs lol

Additionally, if you go through the "beemers lore" and/or "ebverse" tags on my blog, you'll find a lot more information about how the world works that isn't like super important to know but would probably make things easier to figure out how to work within the world lol

[localgirlbecomesobsessed]

Reminiscent of a colder time

Part 2

Olivia x Haku (pre-established)

This is where the title actually makes sense 🤭😂😭

Can you tell the lack of sleep is getting to me at the end cause I can.

Not proof read as it’s 1:30am and I have to be up for work in five hours 😈 but I did do a cheeky read through.

“No offence but I think Hotarubi has the worst weather out of all the houses…that’s including jabberwock where you can get hit by lightning for pissing off Towa.”

Olivia huffed out as Haku gently set her down as the dorm came into their view.

“Hah, you’re telling me…makes me miss frostheim when it’s like this.”

Haku fanned himself as he clasped his hands with Olivia, the other too hot and tired to care as she let him guide her to the dorms.

“Hmmm, didn’t you also say this place reminds you of your home too? Does it ever get too-“

She found herself pressed against a tree as Haku leaned in, snake like eyes boring into her own as he pressed a hand over her lips.

“YOU’RE DUMPING ME?!?”

A shrill voice cried out as the two hid behind the tree, Haku grinning cheekily at her as a Frostheim student stormed passed the two of them, anger swirling around her as their gazes nosily went to look at the depleted Hotarubi student who just shook his head and dejectedly shuffled back to the dorms. Haku gently removed his hand as he brushed a stray hair behind Olivia’s ear.

“I think I can say I definitely don’t miss frostheim girls…”

He awkwardly chuckled as they stayed in place, the two still holding hands as Haku leaned his arm just above Olivia’s head, caging the girl in slightly as she looked up at him curiously.

“But do you miss frostheim?”

He huffed out a bitter laugh.

“Curiosity killed the cat ya know?”

He sang at her, watching in amusement as she rolled her eyes at his blatant avoidance, as his arm slid down as he cupped her cheek in his hand, she kept telling herself it was because she was tired that she was letting him do this not because she was melting at his touch as his thumb tentatively brushed across her cheekbone but because it helped her not drop from exhaustion, like an electric shock.

“Ah but anything can kill a cat Haku…”

She muttered as she leaned back into the tree as it was Haku’s turn to become curious. He watched as the ghost of a black cat clambered down the tree, landing softly onto Olivia’s shoulder as it whirled itself around her shoulders, it was the same cat he’d seen following her since they first met, she never seemed to acknowledge it except…right now she was slightly leaning into the thing, he watched as it nuzzled its face against her, obviously neither being able to feel anything but still a small smile came onto Olivia’s face.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

She was being stubborn, she knew she was but she couldn’t help it, she liked knowing about Haku, liked hearing him speak about himself as it always seemed to be another puzzle piece slotting itself in. A weird kinship between the two had blossomed without either realising, both the disappointments of their family who work hard (though Haku claims he doesn’t.) She couldn’t explain the tight feeling within herself whenever Haku spoke about his family and past before Darkwick, or the tight feeling in her chest she gets around Haku in general, her heart forever fluttering as she’s always forced to try and keep her cool only for the man to fluster her to no end.

“…you’re being persistent, interested in me princess?”

He spoke bitterly as he twirled the lose hair in his fingers, Olivia’s amber eyes were trained on him as he held his hand out for the cat to sniff as it tried to headbutt his hand in approval, Olivia kept her face neutral as she watched him, unsure of what to make of it all.

“I’m not all that interesting…”

He brought his hand back to cup her cheek, she didn’t move away and she tells herself once again it’s because she’s too tired, not because she likes the feeling of Haku’s thumb brushing against her cheek bone.

Her brain was short circuiting as she tried to think of a reply and deal with the closeness as Haku’s gaze sweetened as he saw the blush take over her.

“…it does remind me of home, I’ve told you that before.”

He sighed, smiling slightly as she leaned into his touch.

“Sometimes it’ll be an echo of a memory, a dragging feeling that seems to wanna anchor me in, so it was nice being in frostheim being away from the responsibilities…but-I like Hotarubi, wouldn’t change where I am even if I could…as a disappointment of an heir I’ve gotta at least keep up the act of a good priest even if it’s just a little bit.”

The last part came out jokingly as Olivia frowned, eyes fluttering closed as he started rubbing soothing circles across her cheek instead, it was like he was a snake charmer who had her in his thrall.

It did help that she was exhausted.

“Hmmm but you are a good priest…”

She mumbled out frowning making Haku huff out a laugh of disbelief.

“I like the winter more than the summer but I’m born for a life of warmth and sweating out, but at least it’s the best weather to have a nap in~”

His eyes lit up as a barrage of giggles escaped Olivia, as she rubbed circles across his knuckles nodding in agreement as though Haku had said some sagely truth.

“Hmmm but what about you princess? Who’s your little friend?”

He whispered into her ear as her eyes snapped opened, he was way too close now as he hummed happily leaning his forehead onto her shoulder as one of her hands tentatively reached up to brush through his hair. She could almost hear him smile as he squeezed her hand.

“Just a stray I picked up, he usually sticks around Karma more but lately…”

The cat let out a loud meow at the mention of karma’s name, making the two of them giggle.

“Karma can see aswell?”

He raised his head as he lazily pulled her back into the direction of the dorms, he knew since their first mission that she could see, it was entertaining watching her and Zenji talk to each other, her not realising till the end that he was a ghost, her eyes nearly fell out of her head, especially when she realised he was her sleep paralysis demon as well.

“Mhhhmm, he can see, there was…an incident~he was out of it for a couple of days then bamn he could see ladders.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ladders?”

She shrugged grinning at him as he felt his heart go an extra mile at the sight.

“I found him under a ladder.”

He tugged her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist as they reached Hotarubi’s dorms. She’s never been more excited to have a bath in her life, she’s been trying to ignore it and the tea room sink helped a little bit but her thighs were screaming, her shoulders were burning and she could feel the sweat drying on her in the worst way and she felt almost delirious from exhaustion, her lack of sleep from the past few days may of driven her a bit more crazy than she realised.

They walked through the hall as Haku lead her to the room.

“This will be your guest room, bathrooms through the sliding door and I’ll bring some spare clothes.”

She nodded in agreement practically running to the bathroom as she heard Haku crack up at her excitement.

She flew into the room, looking around in awe at the ofuro, a deep bamboo tub that had a huge shower head above it, it was a traditional bath setting, it had a tabletop water fountain next to the tub and plants littered across the room, all looked like they were well taken care of.

There was another sliding door that she guessed lead outside, there was even a table that had a tea set on a bamboo tray and sake cups.

There was a sharp knock at the door and ladders came trotting through them. She pattered over to the doors and slid it open revealing a happy Haku holding out ‘spare clothes’, which suspiciously look like clothes she’s seen him wear before.

He thrusted them into her hands grinning as she rolled her eyes taking them.

“Thanks Haku, hmm where’d you get these, I feel like I’ve seen these before.”

She was smiling gently as he rubbed the back of neck grinning sheepishly at her.

“Princess, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

With that he saluted her and quickly turned around, wandering off to his own room to have a shower, she presumes.

She slid the door shut and quickly ran over to the tub excitement dancing in her eyes as she turned the taps on, she searched through the drawer for the shower gel; shampoo & conditioner.

———————————————————

The clothes were ridiculously huge on her, she had to roll up the leg sleeves fives times of the black joggers, the light green hoody swamped her which she kind of loved and will 100% be stealing.

She had dried her hair leaving it down, happy to get it out of the greasy bun as she slid the door open she paused in surprise as she was met with the sight of everyone chilling on the futons or on the floor, Haku was changed into a loose white button up with a deep dark green jinbei as he calmly chatted with Subaru.

Again, she is thankful for this beautiful sight of Haku in a jinbei and it almost makes getting cursed worth it-which she is probably only thinking because her exhaustion has turned her brain to absolute mash.

Lyca and karma were sitting next to eachother up against the wall, Subaru was sitting awkwardly near them and Zenji was playing a tune to Karma as he excitedly chattered about his favourite poets in between the pauses of the song. Haku was sitting on the futon patting the place next to him for Olivia to sit next to him, his grin widening as she shuffled over.

“Olivia…why did you use Haku’s bathroom?”

Subaru questioned, an innocent smile on his face even though Haku already told him he let olivia has his bathroom without knowing, Subaru just wanted to cause some chaos.

The look on her face was worth showering in the guest room, the place haunted by a moving painting that follows you across the room, but it weirdly makes great conversation.

“Why did you-“

He wrapped an arm around leaning his head on her shoulder as the smell of his shampoo wafted from her freshly washed hair.

“Ohhh~I’d thought you’d enjoy my bathroom more princess, only the best for you.”

She covered her face with her hands as she felt the red overwhelm her again, she had just got the blush to disappear.

Karma frowned as he got up and slid himself awkwardly between them almost knocking Olivia off the bed.

“You two-“

Lyca grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him to come back to sit with him.

“Lyca you can’t-“

They all watched as Lyca swiftly pulled karma to him grumbling to the other as he slung an arm around his waist. Subaru’s innocent smile almost cracked as he watched everything unfold.

Haku helped her back onto the futon properly as she almost fell off the bed again cackling at Karma’s face, he had an even brighter blush than she did and karma was always the one causing someone to blush this badly not the other way around so it was nice to see.

“Oh Karma, you and Lyca been bonding aye?”

She couldn’t help but tease her baby brother as he flushed an even brighter red.

He grabbed a tiny pillow and launched it at Olivia who easily catched it and launched it right back at him.

Zenji shuffled closer to Subaru as they ordered food from Sho’s app for everyone.

Olivia flopped back onto the futon pulling her hood up and closing her eyes and she felt someone else flop beside her, cracking an eye open she peeked a look to see Haku huddling closer to her, the two of them exhausted as they nearly crashed out then and there, but a pillow flew straight at them, they both let out a groan as Haku launched the pillow back hitting whoever did it as they heard a loud yelp.

Target eliminated.

He looped their arms together as the quiet chatter of the group around them slowly drifted the two to sleep.

Karma shot up and with the help of Zenji and ladders took hundreds of pictures of the two snuggling. Spamming Olivia’s phone with all the photos as Haku clutched onto her.

———————————————————

They woke the two up for dinner as the two lazily ate their meal, half asleep as Haku sighed grabbing Olivia and putting her in his lap so they can balance their foiled boxes on her lap and he can lean his head onto her shoulder, making the move for ease and an excuse to have Olivia close to him.

She checked her phone and huffed out a laugh as the plethora of photo booming through her phone. She flicked through them finding her favourite as she sneakily set it as her Home Screen, no one would be looking at her phone anyway and it was an adorable photo.

Haku and her had their arms locked around eachother their hands clasped as they both had small smiles on their faces as Olivia’s leg wrapped around his.

It was an adorable picture and what Olivia didn’t know was that Karma had also spammed Haku with the photo and as Haku peeked at her seeing her flustered smile and he looked over her shoulder and saw her change her home screen to them, causing Haku to immediately hide his face again, this time his face being the one that’s on fire.

Karma was texting her demanding and pleading for her to not date Haku or any of the ghouls, despite the fact Lyca was now sleepily laying his head on karma’s legs as Karma used one hand to play with his ears that had popped out.

Olivia was almost ready to admit her debilitating crush on the shady man.

Almost.

[charlieslowartsies]

hellooo might i pester a director's cut of the dynamics about Suits of KGA? :>

Yeee ofc I shall do my best to explain this bc it is a weird concept but a fun one lmao

A few short comments to start: I had not quite hammered out the details and finalities of Suits until around Ghost Strings, and even that was near the end.

Nightmare's coveting of Fredbear pushed me to really cement the concept of Suits into place.

Fredbear is rare and an exception, he's incredibly powerful but burns through Souls and eats away at his Suit by accident. Even clever Marionette is unsure the specifics as to why Goldy is so devastatingly horrible without trying to be, but the lure of his abilities and powers draws many to wanting to have him for themselves, even if it will kill them. (Marion wonders if shards of Arthur and Henry are what changed Fredbear into what he is today.)

It became a 'thing' out of strange necessity when I asked myself 'what if Mike Schmidt made a "deal with the Devil"?' in that he agreed to protect the restaurant and Marion gave him Goldy. Mike Schmidt was always planned to hold onto Fredbear's spirit since the start of London Bridge.

The haunted, powerful and spooky powers of Suits was created to do two things for the kga plot: Explain the first game's cardinal rule of "no endos without an outer, protective casing" and explore further why Golden Freddy/Fredbear was more spirit/apparition than actual thing in the first game, and why he talked all jumbled up.

Mike Schmidt has been protecting/guarding the Remains of Fredbear's spirit as much as Goldy looks out for his Suit/the rest of the animatronics/the restaurant.

I had no plans to separate those two until around Last Shift/Security Breach was released...then Ideas Happened when I saw Glamrock Freddy >3

The baseline thing to remember with Suits in the KGA is: Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.

OK now into deeper stuff:

In the diner, a 'suit' was originally just the straight forward idea of 'human wears animal mascot fur suit to entertain kiddos, and give the other Animatronic alongside them a guided force so their programming stayed on task.'

This carried into the Toy's restaurant, as they especially needed some human intervention to avoid wandering off during open hours. (The Toys were never haunted, never really given as much TLC by their coworkers, and developed differently than the older and possessed original four and the two original models.)

After the Crying Child started haunting the Marionette, William Afton noticed it and began trying to replicate what he called Reanimation. It didn't go as planned, obviously, as the Marionette was not human over night, and he didn't understand the concept and, of course, it was Wrong, to try and cheat death. His youngest was an angry, sad, and out of control spirit filled with anguish and wrath and unmoored. But he was powerful, and wanted his father's love even in death, and Marion's ability to Give Life started growing.

The Suit partnership involves one animatronic and one human soul. The easiest ones are, of course, a human dying and their Soul being anchored down into the Animatronic. It's both Blessing and Curse, sometimes leaning one way or the other depending on the two individuals fused together.

An Animatronic can survive after their human soul is allowed to move on to rest, but they retain the humanity they developed from their now lost Soul, even if they begin breaking down. The original four had AIs that were progressing along by the time Afton stuffed their children into them, small personalities that grew as the spirits of their kids took hold and clung to them for comfort/safety.

This is something I didn't explore/detail well and I wish I had back in Devil's Spine: Concerning the original four, they grew from Max's teachings but also grew due to the whims of their Souls.

Freddy's child was a little leader, wanting to protect and keep safe and be in charge. Chica's girl wanted comfort, wanted her mother, and Chica became very comforting, but fiercely protective and not afraid to show it. Bonnie's girl had her throat slit, she had no voice in death so Bonnie spoke for both of them, leading him to be chatty and pointed and animated.

Foxy had a teenager in him before the other 3 had their kids, and he tends to be the more independent thinker of the lot, often able to be more realistic and accept things out of his control, but prone to temper issues when he's hurting.

The deeper a bond that grows between the Animatronic and it's Soul, the stronger their powers. Sometimes the outer 'Suit' is the Animatronic, sometimes its the human. For example, Scraptrap is technically Max Afton's Suit, being the toughest and most protective outer shell. Mike Schmidt is Fredbear's Suit, as he's out more and Fredbear has no outer casing anymore to thrive in, as it rotted away years ago and was stripped for parts as mentioned in Lies Within.

But others in the story would call Max Scrap's 'Suit' as well, the term flip-flops as needed between the bond.

Mike and Goldy's bond is strong from power/force/intent on both their ends. Fredbear is old. And he's gotten Angry over the decades. Mike wanted nothing more than to Live, he didn't want his body and heart to give out on him before he was ready. He was so desperate to survive the nights, their bond kept him a walking dead man who passed for living so well, minus the two heartbeats.

Max and Scraptrap's bond is deep from years of Togetherness. Scraptrap had no personality programming, just a blank slate of an AI that was given to a dead kid who had lost his family, his home, and his life in one terrible year.

The Crying Child's flashlight can forcibly draw out Souls or even unravel Suits.

Suits develop in different ways that are unique to the bond, as seen by Mike and Gold being able to Switch, or Max and Scrap being able to both be functional at the same time with no issues to one another.

The Suits can be healthy or toxic partnerships, they're always codependent it just depends in what way, and what choices the Suits make.

Springtrap and William Afton being the biggest example of what goes wrong when a Suit's powers are used for evil/wrong-doing, obviously. Circus Baby and Henrietta being an example of an Animtronic swallowing a human Soul until nothing remains. Mike and Goldy being a case of "Everything's fine" and then it's discovered Mike has been dead for years. Max and Scrap being a showcase for attachment issues, Max willing to die (again) if he can't be with Scrap, and Scrap willing to murder without hesitancy if someone threatens Max (although thankfully by the time we meet him in Last Shift, he's clearly been taught otherwise.)

I think I've rambled enough ^^; its 1am and i gotta get some sleep lol

[murmurmurl]

I have not shown these kids here yet but they just got redesigns. boom. more information about them coming,, at some point

I will now be insane about them

[mysticstars02]

Watchers/Pseudo-Watchers of Universe~Gatcha (Short Ver.)

"A unique trio who gained the Watchers role...yet they don't possess a Youkai Watch device. Classified as 'pseudo-watchers', the trio are unaware the hidden powers they possess...should not exist in their worlds"

This is the Short Version of the Watchers in this AU. If you're interested in lore depths, the Long version is there for you~ (WIP)

Introducing the Main Cast of Universe~Gatcha!

Rutoni & Laruni

"The twin siblings whom already arrive in a virtual reality world where players and spirits called 'youkais' interact with each other. Wanting to make friends, the twins will soon learn the secrets of this world...after a sudden dream encounter with a great crimson winged-creature"

Biology

Rutoni (He/Him)

A 14-year-old boy and Laruni’s brother. Always a childish and great smile he has but nevertheless when he suddenly stumbles onto the world…where he can actually see yokais?! Instead of the yokai watch, he wears a strange white glove with a round symbol. He doesn’t know why or how he got it. 

Rutoni’s favorite hobby of all time: making friends with everyone! He loves to play around and is willing to try something new to him and his sister. With a childish personality, Rutoni is a watcher who doesn’t know what is right or wrong for himself, Laruni, or his friends. When given decisions, he suddenly drops his act...and begins to act nervously.

Laruni (She/Her)

A 14-year old girl and Rutoni’s sister. A great cheerful and childish smile for Laruni now turns into a frightening experience when she and her brother suddenly appears in a strange world. They don’t know how they got here yet it suddenly got more weird and strange when yokais are appearing…without their watches?! Similar to Rutoni, Laruni’s got a white glove with a round symbol.

Laruni can be a bit jolly kid sometimes, making it hard for anyone to tell why or when she used to laugh that much (even Rutoni doesn’t know lol). Showing off a sweet personality, Laruni’s trying her best to stay connected with the friends she made since the time she suddenly lost few or some in the past. She was never given a reason why, thus making her drop her usual self…and become more isolated.

Main Youkai Companions

Rutoni's Companion: Nyainto (She/Her) - A 'special' Puninyan who believes she has a "super duper power called limit breaker" that needs to be awaken when the time comes. She has the same orb as Rutoni's attached in her tail

Laruni's Companion: Astekomal (He/Him) - A 'special Punikoma who thinks he possess an "ultimate power known as the limit breaker" that dwells inside his soul. When the moment comes, he will unleash that power. He has the same orb as Laruni's attached to his furoshiki

Special Gatcha Powers:

Link Spirit

By using their gloves, they can create their powers and unleash it against enemies. They serve similar mechanics to the yokai watches such as summoning and version upgrades. Guiding the "Punis" will form combo attacks: the more combo chains they build up, the more powerful their attacks are.

Mega Evolution (Mega Yokais)

A great ambush by Rinne's Goku Army/Kachi Kachi Army suddenly cause a burst of strange energy coming out from their gloves. That energy...is Mega Evolution. How the twins obtain that mysterious power will remain unknown...

Aiko Waruuto (She/They)

"A teenage girl who lives throughout her normal, daily life in a world where the technology era becomes another step to advancement. From a freelancer photographer to a free-spirited traveler that secretly admires the old folktales, Aiko will soon make the greatest memories of her lifetime when the app she used alot receive a major update..."

Biology

A 19-year-old teen girl who is much more outdoor person. When Aiko was young, she met and befriended someone who came from a “world of spirits” they told her. This someone was the spark for Aiko’s interest in folklore tales (thanks to a bunch of ghost storytelling). As time pass, Aiko is currently working as a freelancer photographer for taking scenery pictures and helping out clients in need. When she needs a break, she is free to spend time on doing domestic style or playing games. Aiko’s life have always been normal for her…before a certain day arrives involving a major update announcement of an app she used to play.

A bit sarcastic but very talkative for Aiko when certain topics have been brought up. She’s very familiar with everything that is natural or something that is normal for society (EX: People make mistakes, life can be hard most or sometimes). Aiko’s also a social person when it comes to teaching her friends with less social experience.

Main Youkai Companions

Chibi Eyebo "nicknamed as Chibi" (He/Him) - A special type of the Eyepos. This yokai is very fond of traveling around the world and humans due to his curiosity over culture and food. His powers were weak, yet he wields a hidden potential that will grant him the greatest role when the time arrives

Special Gatcha Powers:

Youkai Summoning Device

After a fateful encounter with the "strange, futuristic dragon", the app suddenly made her phone transform into a summoning device that allows her to see, befriend, and summon youkais into combat. In addition, another feature was added in case of emergency: Flash

This allows Aiko to stun youkais that are willing to inspirit/harm her by activating that feature on her phone. Thus, releases a wide range shot of flashing light. It is a powerful stunning attack that is only affected to youkais.

Mega Evolution (Mega Yokais)

A horde encounter of "strange youkais" caused the app on her phone to activate a hidden program called Mega Evolution. A special energy that allows youkais to "evolve even further than beyond". The weird app on Aiko's phone continues to remain a mystery to her...

Shokyou (They/Them)

"A strange youkai who goes by the name of 'the Demon God Commander'. The title may sound exaggerating...but the powers they possess could lead to an ultimate end. In a world of endless battle over a common yet corrupted desire, Shokyou will enter a path of discovery...when a horde of 'strange youkais' appear that seem out of this world"

Biology

A youkai known as the “Demon God Commander”. Awoken from a few groups of Commander Youkais, Shokyou barely recalls anything before they enter a deep slumber, including how they earned that title. The one thing they know is a strange…yet familiar word,

"conquest the world, seek the bind"

They don’t know the reason but surely..those strange words made Shokyou to begin their conquest journey, along with the Commander Yokais, in the world of Romance of the Three Kingdoms/Sangokushi.

With such very appealing and cool appearance, Shokyou has a much more soft-side personality: they’re comfortable with talking to others..except in a tactical, strategic way. With the lack of social knowledge makes the commander more curious and wanting to learn about the “real world”. Anyone who mentioned those social terms (Human tech, domestic stuffs) will definitely bring the demon god commander in. On the other side of their personality, Shokyou’s mind is filled with battle tactics. The moment they engage in a battle, Shokyou will show no fear of striking the opponent’s weakness.

Special...Gatcha Powers?:

Summoning Mark

The mark shown visually on Shokyou's left hand granted the Commander the ability to summon Gunmashins (Army Demon Gods). Not only will it serve as a boosting power for the Commander Yokais, Shokyou can also wield the Gunmashins' power by shifting classes (From Normal to Magic class)

Godfires

Usually for the trio to have one "Gatcha Power", Shokyou is the expectation: They seem to possess another power yet the how will continue to remain unknown.

That power is called Godfires, great spiritual powers that once believed they were lost right before Shokyou's eternal slumber. Shokyou claims they've lost at least 8 Godfires. The 1st was already recovered: the Crimson Fire

Mega Evolution (Mega Yokais)

The long journey with their friends and their army of Commander Youkais has finally awoken that great power during the greatest battles. The power to evolve "beyond further than the original", Mega Evolution. Could this be the secret power of the summoning mark or were there more mysteries to unfold for Shokyou?

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb: From award-winning author Mindy McGinnis comes a mesmerizing YA psychological mystery following a teen girl who is grappling with the death of her brother as she starts a new job in the caverns of Ohio—only to become the number one suspect in her coworker's murder. Perfect for fans of Courtney Summers and Kathleen Glasgow.

Neely’s monsters don’t always follow her rules, so when the little girl under her bed, the man in her closet, and the disembodied voice that shadows her every move become louder, she knows she’s in trouble. With a history of mental illness in her family and the suicide of her older brother heavy on her mind, Neely takes a job as a tour guide in the one place her monsters can’t follow—the caverns. There . . . she meets Mila. Mila is everything Neely isn’t—beautiful, strong, and confident. As the two become closer, Neely’s innocent crush grows into something more. When a midnight staff party exposes Neely to drugs, she follows Mila’s lead . . . only to have her hallucinations escalate.

When Mila is found brutally murdered in the caverns, Neely has to admit that her memories of that night are vague at best. With her monsters now out in the open and her grip on reality slipping, Neely must figure out who killed Mila . . . and face the possibility that it might have been her.

Review:

A psychological mystery about a girl who is dealing with the death of her brother and feels like she can see and hear ghosts.... and has become the number one suspect in her new coworker's murder. Neely can see ghosts, she's haunted by them, from the little girl under her bed to the man in her closet... and now to her brother who has recently died. Her family has a history of mental illness and when her brother committed suicide, Neely is still reeling from everything. She decides to take a new job as a tour guide in the caverns of Ohio, it'll help keep the ghosts away. There she meets Mila, a gorgeous, strong, and kind coworker who becomes close to her. Yet one day Neely's hallucinations escalate at a staff party after she takes some drugs... only to then find Mila's brutally murdered body. Now Neely is the number one suspect but her memory is vague and her grip on reality is tenuous at best. She has to figure out who the truly killer is, even if it means its her. This was such a unique murder mystery because our narrator is so unreliable and her grip on reality is slipping. She barely knows whats going on and she can't be relied on to give an accurate account, which only makes the mystery so much more fun to try and figure out. I loved how odd and weird this one was, and the mystery was a fun one. Definitely recommend for fans of mystery books with unreliable narrators!

*Thanks Netgalley and HarperCollins Children's Books, Katherine Tegen Books for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[golbrocklovely]

so this video was interesting to me for a lot of reasons. i definitely liked it more, i think, than tommy and foolish's but i think that's also bc so much more happened.

first off, i think the girls did excellent for their first investigation. they weren't too freaked out, even tho they had every right to be, and i liked their overall presence in the video. they seem pretty cool :)

now… as for the place they went to….

ngl, it seemed a bit freaky, for sure. i'm a little confused how all of the documentation of a place can be burned and yet ppl still know everything about it, but i digress lol

god knows there's probably some stuff that slipped thru the cracks and found it's way into history books.

i think the main issue i had with this video is the lack of physical evidence. i'm not one to discount other ppl's experiences. i believe them all when they say they felt something was there, or was watching them, or they saw something that the camera didn't catch. i'm not gonna argue that.

what i am gonna argue is this: if you truly feel like you are hearing things when no one else is, feeling touched or pressure on your body…. leave. step outside and center yourself. and if it seems to be a reoccurring issue, don't stay there. i feel terrible for niki bc she was getting the worse of it. but girl… walk outside. there's no way i would be chilling in a set of caves allowing ghosts to cop a feel for an hour lol i would be such a bitch about it, they would want me out of those caves asap.

but she's nicer than me so i get why she stayed.

i just feel like in places like that, where it's mostly feelings rather than evidence like devices going off, it becomes an echo chamber. one person freaks out, and bc you care about them, you start freaking out as well. and so on and so forth. and i think that's why investigations that take place in those type of locations, you need to have some form of grounding exercise or something that can center you. and not just being saged outside before walking in.

i always carry or have on two crystal necklaces that i've had for years now. i don't even know if they're real crystals, but bc they make me feel at peace, i make sure to always have them with me regardless. and i think bc none of them had anything like that, things spiraled very fast.

hell, i usually have my crystals on when i do tarot, let alone if i went into a place like this.

i don't fault any of them (except maybe snc bc they should know better by now) for not knowing what to do in situations like this. i can only imagine how fucking weird it must have felt.

the only point i want to argue is that when they were talking about "oh i feel this pressure on my chest, like it's hard to breathe"…. you're hundreds of feet down in the earth. that's gonna happen. the air in the caves is probably from the 1800s. literally body juice (ew) is leaking into the caves. it's not the healthiest air down there.

but aside from all of that, i think the video was really good. the estes methods were both interesting and creepy all at the same time. i hate when colby did the estes method and it was all sexual and pervy… no thanks. i also DESPISE that colby went into a trance for a minute when they went down into the lowest part, or hell. absolutely FUCK NO BABYYYY lol

i think the medium/guide they had was an interesting character, and i feel bad that she felt so emotional towards whatever was following them. also, it was very weird to see something want to attack colby, bc that usually happens to sam. so… i wonder why that was the case. but i have an idea as to why that happened (i'm gonna be answering an ask that talks about it in case you want to know).

overall, great video. enjoyed the collab. maybe if snc are in the uk again, they can collab with niki and gee. can't wait for the next video, which should be daz !

let me know what you guys thought about the video :)

[nonbinaryphantom]

im blaze i follow/reply from @frenchphobic im a se asian tme nb lesbian. be normal. dni if u are weird and shit and liking pomp pep or whatever and i love trans ppl and gay ppl here

i have an adults only dp server u have to dm for the link though (i prommie i dont bite)

also list of all the aus and basic explanation u can find more stuff under the specific tag for them except for a few <<< has something wrong with them

halfa reaper au: au where all halfas are reapers that guide souls to the afterlife and round up unruly ghosts. its sort of like magical girls specifically pmmm kind of vibe where theres some underlying dark secrets

roleswap: danny and vlad roleswap au. dannys an anti villain with issues who keeps burning his bridges and vlad is an emotional represser with complicated feelings towards maddie and jack. features a bit of electric core au with overdrive

morrigan au: TUE rewrite where dan is just some giant monster bc i like designing them. danny and future valerie r dual protagonists here

rival dani: dani becomes a reoccurring rival for danny bc cain instinct and the whole clone thing. semi rewrite of kindred spirits. danny is like sonic and dani’s like metal sonic/surge the tenrec that kind of dynamic

[what-if-i-just-did]

Writing Masterpost

Triggers should be on the posts themselves, but if I missed anything, please tell me! If you want me to write something, or you want to ask my oc's a question, or whatever, just send me an ask! And don't be shy about it, cause I really love getting asks, especially for writing stuff. Also this is my AO3- go check it out!

Fanfics

August Destiel Prompt List -just a thing I did (Supernatural)

9/11 SPN thing -what where the boys doing during 9/11? (Supernatural)

"You're home" -a Destiel fix-it in honour of 5 nov (Supernatural)

Whumpcember 2023 Masterpost -31 whump prompts for Team Free Will (Supernatural)

Finally - Home -a minific about Dean and Cas' first kiss (Supernatural)

Dean's Vows -what it says on the label (Supernatural)

This Broken Angel With His Shotgun -Human!Cas gets drunk and listens to a song. Angsty (Supernatural)

Thoughts -L thinking about how Light has gotten to know him. Yotsuba arc, could be read as lawlight. (Death Note)

Series

Guilt & Revenge -Whump story, happy ending, multiple whumpers, OC's

Whump

Recaptured Whumpee Drabble -Magical whump, found family and post apocalypse world in one drabble

Bubble Water Whump -Autistic whumpee drabble

It gets better -Caretaker and Whumpee becomes Whumpee and Whumpee

Information Source -A person with superpowers goes a little crazy due to corrupt superheroes

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist -OC whumpee gets abducted by kids he used to bully and tortured. Includes a captivity and a recovery arc

Divine & Demonic -Emotional whump with biblical themes, a fallen angel love story

Exhibit -Gift fanfic for @melpomenelamusa's Chimera series, go check that out!

The Immoral Man & The Immortal Man -a sadistic murderer found an immortal guy, but perhaps he's unwittingly broken the man...

Punishment -intimate lady whump with some weird conditioned worship

"Humans are weird"

These don't all play in the exact same universe, eventhough they have some of the same OC's. There also isn't really a timeline or whatever.

Sight Guide Masterlist -An abandoned continuing story inspired by Superior Eyesight

Aliens & Neurodivergents -What it says on the box

Sometimes Less Is More (+ the person who asked for it) -Bringing a gun to a laser fight

Superior Eyesight (and the neurodivergent side) -What if humans could be invisible?

Body Language: Contradictory -An alien tries to learn human bodylanguage

Expressions -An alien is confused at hearing humans talk

Horrifying Defense Mechanisms -Just act crazy. Aliens don't like crazy humans

We Will, We Will, Rock You! -When you're bored but you can pop culture

How To Write X / Writing Tips

Bilingual Characters

Realistic Future Names

Other?

Werewolf Drabble Thing -How to become a werewolf

Please don't tell me I'm a prophet -Meeting an Angel

He's Not The Villain -When you get abducted so often the heroes stop caring

His Blue Eyes -Two sentence drabble

The Fairy's Forrest -A fairy tale about a little girl, a witch, and a fairy

The Demon & The Child -A woman summons a demon to take care of her child as she leaves for work

Favors from the Afterlife -a ghost follows her friend around

Nuri drabble -drabble of a series in the works. The series will be whump but this is just fluff

A Little Girl -immortal short story inspired by a pinterest post

We, Us, Our, Ourself -two nameless characters from opposing sides accidentally become One

Meet 'n Greet / Meeting Your Heroes -two part superhero paranormal story with implied future romance

Non-Fiction

I remember -An open letter to my ex, but there's so many trigger warnings seriously.

What I can -Me having various emotions about how fucked society is and how I make a difference

She's Puking -Short drabble about my relationship to puking through the years. Mind the tw's

[whitepolaris]

Missionaries Remain in Salem's Mission Mill Museum

The Mission Mill Museum is located on Mill Street in Salem, focusing on the closed Thomas Kay Woolen Mills, but the museum grounds have become a refuge for many of Salem's historic homes-and perhaps some of the early pioneers are still around.

The woolen mill was built in 1889 and processed much of the wool harvested in eastern Oregon. It operated for several more decades, before synthetic fabrics replaced wool in American clothing. The Kay family continued to run the mill until 1958, finally shutting its doors in 1962. The museum opened in 1964 to show the public the interesting history of the Thomas Kay Woolen Mills.

Over time, several historic homes and a church were moved to the museum grounds to protect them from demolition. They include the Methodist Parsonage, originally built in 1841; the Jason Lee House, built to 1841; the John D. Boon House, built in 1847; and the Pleasant Grove Presbyterian Church, which was consecrated in 1858.

On certain days, the museum provides tour guides who lead visitors from building to building. If there are no tour guides, paying visitors are loaded a passkey that will let them into the various historic buildings.

Other Ghosts at the Mission Mill Museum

On weekends, volunteers sometimes demonstrate how to make woolen goods on the still-operational equipment. A museum employee told Weird Oregon that if you are on the third floor of the museum and stand in the right place, you can feel the vibrations of the water turbine-even if the water wheel is not turning. Is this some kind of ghostly replay of past activities? The mill used to run twelve hours a day, six days a week.

Several buildings run across the stream that supplies water to the mill. Some people claim that they have heard the ghostly echo of a murder committed by a past employee who drowned his wife in the millstream near the Mentzer Machine Shop.

More than one staff member told Weird Oregon that they had heard a service being given in the old church. Once one of these staff members entered, he saw a ghostly light suspended in midair.

The most interesting ghost is not very old. One of the old mill workers became a museum volunteer and security guard in his later years. He frequently put on displays of mill work in addition to keeping the parking lot secure. Apparently he stopped people who were littering or doing other naughty things in the parking lot, only to disappear after delivering his warning.

Jason Lee's Children?

It was raining hard when my wife, Janine and I visited the Jason Lee House. I thought I'd heard a child or children's voices coming from inside the house, and someone walking up the stairs inside. Janine had heard children's voices, too.

Inside the house, we thought we heard a thump from upstairs but found no one there. Later a museum staff member told us that a psychic had detected the spirit of a young girl inhabiting the house, mainly on the second floor, where she had lived. She had a mischievous sense of humor, and would sometimes play with visitors or laugh when the tour guides got the historic facts wrong about the house.

They also told us of the security guard who'd paused outside the house when he saw a light shining from the second-floor windows-even though he had turned the lights off earlier. After turning off the lights again and resetting the alarm, he paused outside to look up at the second-floor windows again. One of the curtains was pull aside then fell back over the window a few seconds later.

So who still inhabits the Jason Lee House? Is it one of the many children who lived there over the years? What about Lucy Thompson Lee, who died shortly after giving birth there? -Jeff Davis