#so the reality of owning this stupid cosplay is starting to get to me

[diseaseriddencube]

[frankieunscripted]

My reasons to hate Drake

First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy

Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.

Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"

Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.

Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.

Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?

Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.

Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)

Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -

About the art itself:

Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!

STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.

Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?

Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.

Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch

SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".

Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.

The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?

Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.

Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"

("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.

Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?

Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.

DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.

Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.

Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?

Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"

Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.

Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.

Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.

Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.

The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.

His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.

Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them

Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.

Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.

Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.

Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.

Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.

EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out

[randomheadcanons]

Darkest Timeline Mini Fic Ch. 1

Just wanted to play in space!! Idk how long it will be. 

we post like MEN

“That’s not fair,” Tally pouted as the race came to an end. The camera zoomed in on Guy’s winning Koopa as the rest of the Crew’s characters lamented at their loss. “ That’s like the 5th game in a row. Did you mess with the controllers?”

“I did take them apart,” Guy conceded, “but I put them back together exactly the way they were.” 

“Maybe you should just get good,” Justin suggested with a shrug, tossing some popcorn in her direction. Tally stuck her tongue out. 

“Yo,” Cat chided, before taking the piece off of the floor and popping it in her mouth. “I just vacuumed,” 

“Which you didn’t have to,” Guy assured, “We can clean our own apartment,” he said, gesturing to Justin, who nodded emphatically. To this, Cat shrugged. 

“I got bored,” she replied as Tally stretched and got to her feet before going into the kitchen. This scenario was not an unusual one in Justin and Guy’s apartment. With each of their jobs keeping them busy, the Crew had decided that it was important to have a standing hangout, which was on Tuesdays. Of course, something could come up, but each of them tried to make it a priority, and as often as possible. 

Ever since she moved out of the Lair, Tally found herself either there or here, in the boys’ apartment. She had to laugh at herself as she reached into the fridge for a soda; should she have even moved out in the first place? It was way cheaper to live with the turtles, and they were reluctant for her to go. And she was reluctant to leave. But Tally had told herself that it was something she needed to do, to ‘spread her wings’, or whatever. But going from the constant chaos of living with four people to suddenly living in a studio apartment by herself was…weird. Not unnerving, but weird. Maybe unnerving? But definitely weird. 

Tally was brought out of her reverie by a yelp from Guy and a bright flash of light emitting from the living room. 

“Did you blow up the TV?” she called, smile in her voice. 

“Get in here,” Cat called back urgently. “Now.” 

Tally immediately stood up straight and rounded the corner. 

What she saw was her friends, standing at the ready. Cat, narrowed expression, remote in hand, ready to strike. Guy, on the floor as if he had been pushed back with a force, staring. Justin, with a sword that he had likely hidden somewhere stupid, at the ready. And a woman, dressed in a blue spacesuit, with a helmet and cape. Her Jetsons-cosplay had little watches studded throughout, all at different times. Her hands were up and her eyes were very wide in a clear -please don’t murder me- type of way. Well, one hand was up, the other held a staff, equally as blue and vibrant. 

Just a regular Tuesday. 

“I’m not here to hurt you!” The woman chirped in a rush. “I need your help!” 

“Who are you?” Cat demanded, helping Guy up. 

“And why are you in our living room-” Justin started, sword up. 

“-dressed like a 50’s cosmonaut?” Guy finished. 

“I’ll explain everything I just need-” 

“Are you Renet?” Tally asked suddenly as she pieced it together. The woman, and the Crew, looked at Tally in bewilderment. 

“Yes!” The woman-Renet-beamed. 

“And who is Renet?” Justin asked, looking from Tally to the visitor. Tally shrugged. 

“I’m not really sure,” she supplied. “I just remember the guys used to talk about-” 

“The guys!” Renet squealed. “How is Mikey?” Tally blinked. “Uh, he’s good.” she paused. “But, evidently she’s a time wizard?” she finished, her sentence lilting up at the end, as if she was unsure. Because she was.

“A what?” Justin asked with a blink. 

“I prefer Timestress,” Renet interrupted. “But I’m still an apprentice so my actual title is-” 

“Shut up,” Cat snapped, turning back to Tally. “What did the guys talk about?” Tally shook her head, spreading her hands. “I dunno,” She continued. “It was something about a time wizard…different reality…timeline..thing? I’m not really sure. It happened before the guys and I met, but apparently there was a dragon-?” “Yes!” Renet interrupted again, “Drako.” The Crew turned back toward the blue Timestress, and she grimaced. She paused, looking at them. “Oh, would you like me to-” “Yes.” all four of them said at once. 

Renet took a breath and nodded. “Okay, so long story short. A few years ago, I sort of kind of lost the Time Scepter-or it was stolen rather-by this dragon named Drako who totally hates my guts. And he stole it because he is power mad and yadi-yada-yada. All of this to say the turtles got involved because of the Battle Nexus Championship and then Drako got really mad about that and vowed revenge so he blasted the turtles through time and space to different realities but they got back and defeated Drako and restored their-your-timeline. Mostly.” 

There was a pause. 

“Mostly?” Guy asked hesitantly. 

Renet sighed. “So the initial blast not only sent the guys into different realities and timelines but also left tears in a few others. So.” she continued, beginning to pace. She picked the popcorn bowl up off of the table and started speaking between bites. “Even though Drako is gone the tears were still left and Simultaneous-” “Who?” Justin cut off. 

“My boss.” Renet said with a dismissive hand. 

“Right, the Time Wizard.” Cat deadpanned. 

“Well he prefers Time Lord” Renet corrected. “But he got really mad obviously and put me on probation again which involved fixing the tears and I’m almost done but there is one that is still ripped.” “Ours, I’m assuming.” Tally groaned, rubbing her eyes. 

“But what’s that got to do with us?” Cat challenged, gesturing to the four of them. “Can’t you just wave your staff thing and fix it?”

“I have to be within so many feet of the target to send them back to their timeline.” 

“And who are you dealing with, exactly?” Justin asked. 

Another pause. 

“You guys,” Renet supplied. 

[shen-the-hopeless]

The night didn’t get any better. After hours of wallowing, I finally slammed my laptop shut and tried to distract myself. But instead of comfort, my brain went straight to Tomie—the comic Kai had been reading in the break room that started this whole mess. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, how she was this perfect vision of dark, seductive beauty.

Yeah, sure, Tomie dies in practically every story. Sure, she’s a manipulative, monstrous being who ruins everything she touches. But goddamn, she’s gorgeous. The way Junji Ito draws her, with those big, sharp eyes and that flawless hair, like every strand is perfectly placed. Even in the ugliest scenarios, she’s stunning.

And I wasn’t.

I pulled up some Marin Kitagawa fan art on my phone, hoping it would make me feel better, but it just made everything worse. Marin was everything I wasn’t: cute, fashionable, radiant, with that effortless ability to pull off any look she wanted. She could wear the sexiest cosplay or the most casual outfit and still look like a goddess. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even convince myself to brush my hair most mornings.

I stared at my reflection in the darkened screen, my face barely visible in the glow. My round cheeks, my dull eyes, my double chin. No amount of contouring or eyeliner could hide what I was: chubby and average. Marin and Tomie had this ethereal, magnetic allure, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to be that beautiful.

For a split second, I thought about trying.

I imagined myself with bold eyeliner, dark lipstick, and maybe a piercing or two. I thought about what it might be like to walk into work with my face fully done up, looking sharp and goth and confident. Maybe I could smile more, too—not the awkward, forced kind of smile I sometimes gave customers, but a real one. A smile that might catch Kai’s attention, that might make him look at me like I was something other than a lump of flesh occupying the same break room.

But then reality hit me like a slap. I didn’t have the face for that kind of makeup, or the money for piercings, or the courage to even start trying. And even if I did, it would be way too obvious what I was doing. I could already hear the whispers in my head:

“Oh, look, Shen’s trying to impress Kai. How sad.”

The thought made me cringe so hard I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. I could picture myself standing there, all dolled up and desperate, and Kai just... politely ignoring me, the way he always did.

Because he wasn’t stupid. He’d see right through me. He’d know I was trying to catch his attention, and he’d probably find it pathetic.

I sighed and turned off my phone, burying my face in my pillow. The urge to cry was back, but I held it in. Crying wouldn’t fix anything.

The truth was, I could never be Marin Kitagawa or Tomie. I couldn’t even be a half-decent version of myself. I was stuck, trapped in this ugly, chubby body that felt more like a prison every day.

And Kai... Kai was on a whole other level.

He deserved someone better than me—someone like Marin, or like the gorgeous alt girls he probably followed on Instagram. Someone who could make his heart race the way he made mine.

I hated that I cared so much. I hated that I wanted him so badly. And most of all, I hated myself for not being enough. For being too afraid to even try.

[bisognamorire]

Dear A.,

Happy Saturday!

I feel a bit stupid and pathetic to leave these messages here for you, because for all I know you might not even look at my blog. At least thats what I remember you telling me in a letter. I still hope that they might reach you somehow, somewhen. I had to think of how you agreed to me as we drove to Grasmere, ‘it was so horrible when we didn’t speak last year’. Why did it happen again?

Why, why, why.

Last week, after getting your message and realising I didn’t have the option to send my ‘goodbye’ message to you and wondering why you avoided using the word ‘love’ in regards to me and instead used ‘care’, I became so unwell that I needed desperately to be around people and keep myself from the need to harm myself.

I visited Sharon every day a few hours in the evening or afternoon. At some point she told me that her boyfriend was complaining about me visiting them and that I was annoying him by just seeming ‘down’ and that shes scared he might break up with her because I need so much support. I felt awful. Like I am unwanted wherever I turn to and that I cause harm everywhere. I told Sh. that I wouldn’t visit anymore out of fear that i might endanger her relationship but also out of feeling unwelcome. Seemingly unhappy with that arrangement too, Sh. started berating me for an hour. I want to give you a selection of things she concluded about me:

1. it is my own fault that I don’t have any friends because of ‘how’ i am

2. i don’t even want/ try to be not-depressed

3. the 10 years I’ve been to therapy in total were completely useless because in her opinion I have not progressed an inch

4. I am not making any effort to live ‘independently’ ((despite me literally doing that))

I asked her at least three times to leave my flat while she was ranting to me, but she refused and kept hurting me with those words. My brain switched into dissociation mode then.

People always speak of how we need to destigmatize the mentally ill etc. yet when I show symptoms of being depressed, all my relatives and friends are blowing in the wind. Seems like its more an ideal they’d like to uphold and not a reality that they want to actually bear. people always reveal themselves with their actions.

This week I tried to meet with the few friends I have. Some of those meetings helped me distract myself for a while with mindless chatter and others wounded me more, for example, with Fatma, who treated me harshly and basically kicked me out of her home. I think she didn’t do it out of bad intent. She is just very stressed because of always being at work. I wonder why so many people don't realise that their jobs are killing their joy in life and make them so irritated that they treat everyone around them like shit and why they don’t take action against it. But still, I’ve had enough of people kicking me out of their lives and homes.

Apart from all these things (as you can see, the people around me are little comfort to me) I bought a few tools and paints to create my Yamato (One Piece) cosplay. So, now, when I am not at work, I play my video game ‘Lies of P’ (I’m at that boss fight against Fuoco) or to tinker on the cosplay or take naps. It is good to occupy my mind by trying to figure out how to create things for the cosplay. I don’t get into repetitive thoughts about you and everything when I am doing that.

The other day I formed Yamato’s horns out of Foam Clay.

Yesterday I spray painted them with a layer of liquid plastic and then coloured them with Acrylics.

Since Yamato is a demon, he was shackled but he broke free at some point. I also made his shackles out of EVA foam and I will hopefully paint them today after work.

I miss you horribly and I wish I could cry and weep about your decision to not be in my life anymore or have any part of me in yours. But due to dissociation, I can’t cry these days. I just feel like this empty black hole that threatens to even swallow up itself if I don’t keep my mind preoccupied.

I just sit and stare at the ceiling. I go over your last message to me over and over in my mind and get into panic attacks when I try to think of what you’re doing, how you’re doing because I realise we’ve never not spoken in such a long time and I don’t know anything about you anymore. Most of the time this takes up so much energy of me, that in the end I just rot in bed.

I wish I could know how you’re doing and what's going on in your life, too. Before you asked me not to, I would check your blog but there wasn’t really much that would give anything away and since I also misunderstood the meaning of that greek song (did I really?) I wonder what else I might misunderstand, even if there is any hint. When I don’t see anything I get very disappointed and feel very hurt, so I try not to check it anymore but I feel desperate to. I sometimes wonder how you don't have the same urge to reach out to me and know how I am etc. and it hurts too.

I want to say ‘don’t be a stranger’, and I try not to be one to you by writing these and I wish you’d also not be one to me.

Your Sabo, who loves you.

[angeldiaries777]

EXPOSING THAT SIDE OF TWITTER. ( you will only understand this if you know you know )

The fuckin uhh girlblogger community I guess you’d call it is so fake nice and toxic

The first time I really interacted with it was like fall 2021 till like the middle of 2022 and it was just really bad

Want to take a guess where my restrictive ed and intense body and face dysmorphia stemmed from fucking twitter. Not solely that like I was body shamed a lot as a kid and had issues way before but I didn’t actually get sick and it didn’t control my life until I was like highschool age.

Like that entire community which at this point consists of either really young teens or loser women in their 20s that think they’re being soooo helpful when in reality they’re just dumb bitches indoctrinating lonely children on the internet meanwhile their own life is shit.

It’s just lame now. It should have died a long time ago and now it’s just a bunch of ugly irl 17 yr olds cosplaying as cool pretty girls when we know in reality they won’t amount to anything more than basic. On top of how toxic they are they also glamourize the shit out of mental illness and depression when like atleast half of them aren’t even Mentally ill they just want an excuse for having zero redeeming qualities or skills. Don’t even get me started on the weirdo nxaxzxixs that live in like lame European countries spreading false propaganda and thinking they’re so cool when they’re just internet trolls just because they’re bored and socially inept.

Or omg those fake self proclaimed transgender/gay people that like live in fucking middle of nowhere Nebraska and want to feel special

Or those incel straight men that those “girlblogger”losers need validation from.

And there’s always that one bitter millennial no one gives a fuck about sharing their opinion on things that are stupid thinking that they’re on some moral high ground cuz they’re more woke than some fucking stan twitter kid from Asia lmfaooo

Like I just want to call everyone on that toxic side of the internet and they can all choke

[yugotrash]

okay so let's get this started because i've had an energy drink tonight and i'm not sleeping anyways

So let's go through this point by point.

1. I haven't "suppressed" anything, this is the first time I've received this slew of asks, stop lying. Also, I literally don't have to entertain any asks from anon sources because I have no idea who sends them and therefore no confirmation of actual good intent. this is a tumblr blog, not the press office of an elected official.

2. If I agree with posts made by women, I can reblog them if I think more people should see them. This is not "skin-wearing". Your use of the word "terf" here sharply constrasts with your objection to it later on which is another indication to me that you're probably a man cosplaying as a radfem and trying to push me away from being their ally. won't work.

3. I have never claimed to be a terf, a feminist or a woman. I consider myself a part of the opressor sex. I have never said otherwise and it's not up to me if women decide i'm being an ally. once again, this is a tumblr blog on which i share no personal info and i have literally zero benefit from anyone giving me "woke points".

4. I do not speak on women's issues nor do I "invade female spaces". this is just a plain lie. also, the internet quite literally isn't a space and least of all a safe one when you have literally no indication of who you're interacting with.

5. if you seriously think me having issues with men objectifying women equates to me enforcing my male opinion on women that they should draw other naked women i can laugh and i will laugh.

6. I have "male" in my bio, I don't participate in feminist discussions, nor do I consider myself a "terf" once again. i'm truly sorry the opinion of a totally anonymous individual on the internet is not as valuable to me as the input i get from actual radfems involved in actual organising in real life who've had some different thoughts on the subject of me using the word.

the only reason I chose to publish this is because I have some time on my hands and this is the first time i've received a list of asks like this but I'd like to make something clear. i did not have to publish this, there is nothing here that would make me think you're actually a woman calling me out on my bullshit and not a rabidly misogynistic man trying a different angle to the ones a few weeks ago insisting that i'm full of self-hatred for wanting to be an ally to feminists. Not only is sending what you sent the worst possible attempt at actually criticising someone, it's also totally irrelevant. You don't know who I am, nobody is beholden to anyone on the internet, this is a literal tumblr blog where i post funny texts and occasionaly my thoughts but this is not activism. my blog is not activism nor is your ask, a social media website is not a political battlefield, nothing ever posted here will remotely impact reality the way a single real life action will. why did you even send this, what was the response you were hoping for? a grovelling rejection of all the feminists in my life as stupid handmaidens and a commitment to never actually try to battle my own place in male domination again, since that would be "cosplaying as a terf" and "inserting myself into feminist spaces" because a tumblr anon told me to? But of course that would mean this entire endeavour wasn't a thinly veiled attempt at trolling. anyways i'm gonna keep doing what I'm doing because i trust the women in my life and i hope this whole thing at least entertains someone tonight.

[alightwhendarknessfell]

Dear Andy,

I have debated posting this for a while, mostly because I wanted to get it right. With the WSTW re-record release approaching and things coming to light about the actions of a former member I feel that now is as good a time as ever. I don’t know if you’ll read this, but it is something that over the past year I have wanted to do. I have been unfair and overcritical and at times, downright mean. I was judging you and your actions based on my own interpretations. The events of the past few weeks have shown me that those interpretations were wrong. So here it goes…

I have been a fan of not only Black Veil, but of you going back to 2008-2009, when everything was still on Myspace. I vividly remember eagerly awaiting the release of WSTW and making my mom drive me to the local Hot Topic to pick it up the day it came out. I remember going to my first show in a small little bar in Raleigh, NC that sadly is no more, and I remember being dressed in war paint along with my best friends. I know that it may not seem like it, but I to this day consider myself a fan. The band that you created was pivotal for my teenage years and to this day the community you helped build means the world to me.

I will admit that it was my passion and love for that community that was the root of my criticism. Despite what you or others reading this may think, I do not hate you, not at all. There have been times that I felt let down, cheated, and disappointed as a fan, but the events of the past few weeks have really opened my eyes. I will get that to that point, but I did not and do not hate you. As a person I speak up, at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I do when I feel strongly about something. I have certainly made the mistake too many times of speaking before I had all the information or trusting my own judgement on things, I knew nothing about. I am trying to get better at not doing that.

I can see how some of the things I have said, condoned, or even given a platform to were mean, uncalled for, hurtful, and regrettably untrue at times. I have had this blog and been in this fandom for over a decade. I was 13-14 years old when I first made this blog, and I am almost 25 now. I look back on some of the things I said, and I deeply regret them. In 2015 this blog was accidentally deleted, and honestly it was probably for the best that some of my earlier posts are gone. Regardless, I have let myself get carried away or swept up in drama perpetuated by others (and sometimes myself). I have said things, even in the past few years that I shouldn’t have, things that could be hurtful. While my intention was never to hurt you, I think it’s safe to say that myself and others lose sight of the impact of our words when they are said behind a screen, to people we think will never read them. As a teenager or even in my early 20’s I didn’t think that someone ‘famous’ would see what I wrote, surely it would all get lost in the sea of tweets, posts and comments.

That does not make saying those things right.

I would like to personally apologize to you for not considering the fact that you might see some of those words. That you are a person with emotions just like everyone else, that could be hurt by them. I am sorry for letting others get away with saying cruel things, even if I pushed back on them or didn’t directly comment. I would be lying if I said that the fame (or infamy), status and notoriety I got for my words didn’t affect my actions. It’s sad, but true that often times more attention comes out of negativity than kindness.

As someone who has been bullied and suffers from mental illnesses, I should have left some things unsaid. I do not know you personally, I only know what you have shared. Seeing you speak about your own struggles with mental illness over the recent years has really given me a much-needed reality check. I have related to some of the things you’ve talked about more than you know. Some of the things that others and I have been critical of were clearly not the result of malicious intent but of your own hardships that we were blind to. 

I think people forget, and I know I did, that when this band took off you were just a teenager yourself. To think that at 18 or 19 someone in your situation would act ‘right’ all of the time and never make mistakes is ridiculous. Not only were you a kid trying to figure the world out, but I think it has become clear that you were dealing with people who used you for their own selfish gains. That would be hard for anyone, regardless of their age. 

I have never dealt with addiction on a personal level, but I emphasize with whatever pain you had to endure in your own struggles with it. You are right when you said that no one sees themselves becoming an alcoholic at twenty years old, and I am sorry for not being more sympatric in the past. One of my biggest regrets in all of this was hearing that during the time that I was probably the harshest to you (around 2016) was when you were struggling the most with trying to be sober. 

I am happy that you are sober, I am glad that you were able to make it out of that cycle that consumes so many people. I hope that others who are struggling are inspired by your dedication to living a healthier life. In an industry where it is too easy to fall back into toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms, I am glad you have found strength.  

I would like to speak on why I have been so negative in the past (and at times hateful). As I said, what you created in Black Veil meant a lot to me and so many others. This band has been a part of my life for so long and I have met some of the most amazing people through it. I have met people that I can honestly say I love because of this community. This fan base gave me a home when I felt alone and gave me something to identify with as a kid. That’s why I started cosplaying as you, sure it’s a hobby of mine and aesthetically I am a fan of 80’s glam metal, but it was mostly to pay tribute. I am not a ‘traditional’ artist in the sense of paintings and drawings, my media is makeup and costume. The WSTW/STWOF era is what I consider my era as a fan, the one that I identified with the most. 

I admit, I was upset when it ended. That’s a stupid reason to be upset, obviously all bands change and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s how I felt. The source of my jadedness was not the adoption of a new look, it was deeper than that. Around 2016 was when I had the most animosity because I saw what I thought at the time was you ‘giving up’ on Black Veil. I felt like the ‘old’ fans weren’t wanted anymore and like most people, I felt the need to protect and defend what I loved.

With the introduction of your solo act, it felt like the community I cared so much about was being destroyed and I couldn’t understand why you were doing that. I was blinded by my own judgements. What came off as hate was really just hurt. I know I am not the only ‘OG’ fan who felt that way, and I took that to mean I was justified. In hindsight it is clear, none of us had any idea what was really going on with the band and certain individuals who were bringing it down. At various times it seemed like you hated the old era and as a fan who stood there from the beginning that felt like a gut punch.  I let my own feelings make me bitter, and that was wrong. I let others fuel that bitterness, including ones who were actively stabbing you in the back. 

I remember around 2012 I made a very critical post of an article you did in Kerrang talking about your struggles with alcohol. I criticized you for not saying more and even said that what you shared was nothing in comparison to a former member’s struggles with addiction. When I received this DM from that individual saying that they approved of my words and that I was ‘spot on’ I felt embolden. I deeply, deeply regret letting such a toxic and horrible person influence me. That post I wrote was wrong, ignorant and immature. That post was one that got deleted in 2015, but I still regret having written something so heartless. 

(screen shot is from 2012, this was a Twitter DM from said individual. I did not share that post with them, they found it on their own and contacted me. ) 

I see now that you were not turning your back on Black Veil, you were trying to save it. The interview you did with Ryan Downey brought me to tears. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have something you spent your whole life fighting for be taken over by an abusive, evil, and selfish person. I feel like I have gained a better perspective of where you and the band were at over the past three weeks and I am sorry you are not free to say more. I am sorry for defending this person because they did not deserve a single fan.

Some who takes advantage of another’s passion and youth because they lack the creativity and ability to do it on their own is stealing, plain and simple. I am sorry that you have been tethered to such a horrible person for so long. I deeply admire your perseverance, strength and determination in taking back what that person tried to take. To be willing to destroy something you love and care about to keep it from the hands of evil is an incredible act of dedication to it. 

I would like to end this with a few more things. I know I have been critical of people that you love. I do admit I have taken those criticisms too far at times where they crossed into bullying. I am sorry to Juliet for being unfairly harsh, I am not a hateful person, but I have allowed myself to act that way. There are certainly things that I have said that I stand by, and there are things that I may not agree with or understand, but I think there are ways that I can voice my own opinions respectfully, without being mean. 

In an ideal world I would love to sit down with you, or anyone else I may have hurt and have a discussion about it, but hopefully this gets my point across well enough. I do not intend to delete my blog or stop accepting posts (although I will try and make an effort to get rid of toxic posts. It will just take a while to sort through them all). While I can’t promise to never say anything critical again, I can promise to stop the hatefulness. I am promising to make a real effort to clean up some of the toxicity towards you that is unfair and unwarranted. To facilitate a more respectful, yet still honest and open dialogue. I do take pride in my blog being one of the last places of discussion and community for fans, but perhaps without the cruelty that been allowed to fester. If you are someone reading this who comes here to be mean and hateful, I’m sorry but it has to stop. This was never intended to be a ‘hate blog’, but I will openly admit I understand why people thought it was.  

If you take anything away from this, or if you even read this, please let it be this. I consider myself a supporter of you and what you have created. I want nothing more than to see you succeed and be happy. I hope that you are able to overcome the struggles in your life and that you are able to find meaning and true happiness if you have not already. Although it may not appear so, I have always routed for you. It may seem like nothing you do is ever good enough for the fans (or at least some of them) but for me at least that is not true. You have been given an impossible task of trying to please thousands of people, of never being allowed to fuck up, and having past transgressions brought up again and again. For that I am sorry, and I am sorry for having played a part in that. 

You deserve to be treated as a person, not as an object or persona. I whole heartedly believe you are a decent person, who maybe has flaws and room for improvement, but so do I and so does everyone else. I do believe there are fundamentally bad people out there, people who deserve the karma they have coming. Those are the people that purposefully hurt, lie, manipulate, cheat and deceive others for personal gain. I think especially in the past few weeks we have been shown who those people are. Yet, I don’t believe you are one of those people. 

To everyone out there who is reading this, please give people the chance to change. Be okay with admitting when you are wrong. Allow people to grow and become better. Over the past year my mentality and perspective on the world has shifted dramatically. Two years ago I couldn’t have written this post, but as I enter my mid-twenties I am able to look back and say ‘this is not the person I want to be, this is not the person I want people to think I am’. So all I can do is admit my shortcomings, apologize, and be better. 

Andy, if you read this and made it to the end, thank you. You are in no way obligated to respond to or accept any of what I said. I just wanted to put this out there with the hopes that it in some way, or that some part of this, lessened some of the hurt I regrettably have caused. 

- Ren <3 

P.S the banner of my blog is not calling you or the band trash. It’s a fan term for when someone is really into something. Saying “I am ______ trash” means you love that thing. I know it’s weird, but it’s supposed to be an inside joke for other fans, it’s a positive thing. So, when I say “I am 100% 2010 Black Veil trash” I am talking about myself being a massive fan of that era. I don’t think you or the band is trashy, if I did, I wouldn’t be spending money on tickets, merch and shoving blue contacts into my eyes for 10+ years. 

[grayhouse3]

SJTR is my villain origin story

So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper.

Originally I told myself that I was going to just stick it out and read the next one (“Oh, it’s about vampires and Dracula. It’s probably more fun. You can forget all about the pain this one inflicted on you"). No. I got 12% of the way through and had to DNF. So here are my messily compiled thoughts on the book, basically expanded from the last post. Honestly, kind of feel free knowing I won’t be writing more about this series. (Also I am adding some TWs down below but don't know if I am doing them right!)

More on the exoticism, weirdness with Audrey Rose's Indian mother, and the British Empire:

In chapter 14, we read, "Dark strands of hair were piled atop my head, my eyes more mysterious somehow with the dark liner, and my lips were the bright crimson of freshly spilled blood … I thought of my mother and the saris she’d brought me to wear from Grandmama’s homeland. I felt just as stunning now as I did then, and the memory warmed me.” I am still trying to figure out why Maniscalco made Audrey Rose mixed race. Why is Audrey Rose’s grandmother from India? Literally, what did it add to the story? Was it nothing more than just a cute lil quirky fun character trait to her? I don’t think I missed any key moments where there were important conversations about race, imperialism, British occupation, etc., mostly because Audrey Rose’s father (a big fancy rich lord) is a white man and because Audrey Rose is white-passing. I can’t recall any moments in the book where she faces the realities/consequences of being a socially mobile POC WOMAN in LONDON IN THE 1880s. Honestly, if someone else can point out a passage I glossed over or explain some nuance I missed I would actually really appreciate it, because this drove me CRAZY.

(Audrey Rose and her brother also go visit a circus in town in chapter 15; of course these events existed purely for England/colonizing countries to exercise and display their power and to exoticize/exploit the communities/cultures that they came into contact with. Audrey Rose sees silks, beads, etc. that remind her of her grandmother’s saris, smells the foods of her family’s “homeland,” etc. Also in the same chapter there’s this great scene where her brother is describing their mother and father’s marriage: “Grandmama told me she’d refused him twenty times just for fun,” Nathaniel replied. “Said he squirmed like a cobra in a basket. That’s how she knew he was in love.” Uhhh … Is that supposed to be romantic?)

On the feminism stuff:

I am too *gestures vaguely* to write much more on this. Yeah, it’s heavy-handed. Yeah, it’s cringey. But at the end of the day, it’s not really that harmful, I guess. Here’s just a fun sampling of some of my favorite lines from the book:A few of my favorite bites from the book:

***“close-minded society” (chapter 21) Okay

***"Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news?” (chapter 15) Bro do you know how the media works

***"But what of her [mother’s] insistence that I could be both strong and beautiful? Surely Father had to be wrong.” (chapter 21) Yes girl you are strong and beautiful!

***"There would be no skirts or bustles to wrangle with anymore. I was through with things confining me” (chapter 22) Ugh down with corsets just another tool of the patriarchy amirite

On the violence against women, weird classism, and stuff about prostitution:

I was bound to be uncomfortable about a lot of this because I have weird feelings about true crime stuff, and this is historical fiction set around the Jack the Ripper murders. It was going to go sour somewhere.

Consistently Audrey Rose wants to be sympathetic, but is unable to connect all the parts of this situation together: she struggles to imagine the women (very real-life victims) beyond their lives of prostitution, poverty, squalor. When she does, we see something like this: "The women he murdered did matter ... They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters” (chapter 28). Oftentimes she wishes she could continue to cut cadavers open in peace (women in science!) without having to think about how those cadavers came to be on her examination table: “I needed to get away from those women and their tragic lives before my emotions got the better of me” (chapter 25). Perhaps Maniscalco deserves more credit here, and perhaps I’m just being a bitch, because Audrey Rose is a very privileged girl and her actions and thoughts make that clear. It’s just that the conclusions she comes to in the name of feminism, justice, etc. weren’t at all satisfying to me.

Also: OH MY GOD. Oh my god. There is this one moment that is BRANDED AGAINST THE GRAY MATTER OF MY BRAIN FOREVER and I will never forget it. At one point, Audrey Rose and love interest Thomas decide the best thing they can do is go out and—yes—stalk Jack the Ripper. To do this, they know they need to “blend in” with the crowds in East End. So … like … cosplaying as poor people? Audrey Rose manages to find and wear the dress of ONE OF THE MURDER VICTIMS (long story short her medical doctor uncle was in a relationship with this woman and when she died he acquired her worldly possessions). It’s like, so fucked up, I can’t even describe my reaction when I read it. In chapter 25 we read, "The dress was a little too old, a little too ragged, a bit too big. If I were to wear this ghastly dress out, I’d look as if I belonged in the East End, begging for work to feed my addictions … It was absolutely perfect.” Oh my god. And THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. While they’re “stalking Jack the Ripper” on this incredibly stupid mission, the two main characters just … make out in an alley. Like, okay. People are being murdered and you’re wearing a dead woman’s dress and you suspect your father of being guilty, but yeah, that kind of stuff makes us all a little horny. Super relatable. Absolutely no concept of reality or consequences or anything at all.

Another random note on class: I noticed the only time Maniscalco writes in dialects/accents, she’s writing seedy/working-class characters. Not saying this is a problem unique to Maniscalco’s writing by a longshot, but ... something to think on. (I think it’s ingrained in a lot of author’s writing habits/minds at this point.)

Weird stuff about the dad, the brother, and what justice means to Audrey Rose:

I had to add a whole new highlighting color for this stuff!

Any growth Audrey Rose might’ve shown over the course of the novel—anything about how these women mattered, and how they deserved justice as any “highborn” individual might, simply by dint of being humans—goes away when she and Thomas come to the conclusion that the Ripper murders must have been committed by Audrey Rose’s father. She realizes her moral dilemma when she contends with the harsh reality: if her father is the Ripper, can she turn him into the authorities? Audrey Rose worries how that might impact her own moral virtue: "They’d hang Father. Given who he was, they’d make it as public and brutal as possible. Just because blood might stain his hands did not mean I wanted his on mine. No matter if it was right or wrong” (chapter 24). First of all, BITCH. You have to. You have to report this kind of thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. I HAVE to imagine Maniscalco’s intended audience would feel the same? It’s? Serial murder? Second: Audrey Rose, baby, sweetie, honey. This is just a reminder that ACAB. I actually don’t know a whole lot about how the late Victorian criminal justice system functioned, but something tells me her family's public outlook would’ve been less bleak than she imagines here.

Lucky for Audrey Rose, her dad isn’t guilty in the end—but her brother sure is. He’s a mad scientist, using the brutalized bodies and souvenirs of his victims for Frankenstein-style experiments. Ultimately, he wants to reanimate the corpse of his and Audrey Rose’s long-dead mother, and he believes he can achieve this by transplanting fresh organs into ? Her dead and decomposed body? The thing is that, this moral dilemma persists for Audrey Rose—and her dad, too. He pressures her not to bring the little matter of Nathaniel’s issue—you know, his casual murder of a number of local women—to Scotland Yard: “They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?” (chapter 29). Nathaniel electrocutes himself to evade capture by the authorities, and Audrey Rose and her father feel relief. The book ends by confirming that "Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now” (chapter 30).

((Side note: Listen. I knew Nathaniel had something sinister going on from the GET-GO (I’m not trying to be obnoxious) because he basically started some nighttime vigilante group called the Whitechapel Knights of Justice or whatever bullshit, I don’t know. All I know is that my red flags IMMEDIATELY started going off because that sounds exactly like the terrible and awful Crusader cosplay clubs from my (bad) Catholic childhood, where everyone thinks they’re a knight for Good but really they’re the bad guy.))

Overall, kind of ...

I think one of my biggest issues with this ending was … You have already stepped into a realm of fantastical revisionist history here in writing such a fictionalized version of these real-life events. (I know Maniscalco is far from the first to do it.) That means that the rules you are playing by are essentially your own—evidenced by the liberties she points out in her Author’s/Historical note (dates changed for convenience or storytelling purposes, real-life individuals changed for narrative purposes, etc.). So WHY would you not conclude this fantasy retelling of the Jack the Ripper murders by meting out some form of justice? I hear the counterargument: "Well, because we still don’t know the culprit today. This book would ring hollow if it named someone since historians, forensic scientists, etc. still don’t know who committed these crimes." My question: is that really a problem though? This is a work of fiction. Nothing in history happened the way it is written here. Is it crueler to the women who were murdered and who remain spectacles for true crime junkies and authors like this, less satisfying to readers who want some more concrete kind of closure, to not offer that up? I am asking this in earnest here, because I don’t know. Maybe it is insensitive to make up a murderer, to fill in the gaps in order to make sense of the violence that happened. But in my brain it feels almost like a responsibility at this point, since these murders served as the backdrop for the romance between Audrey Rose and Thomas, for the background to Audrey Rose’s empty feminist diatribes, and as inspiration for a book that went on far longer than it needed to. To me it kind of feels like the least an author could do, but I have no clue.

Anyways, I'm just glad I get to put this series to bed. No more.I truly lost sleep over it this weekend. Onto something better, please, for the love of god.

[just-come-baek]

at your scarvice

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Jimin x OC (Jiwoo) and other BTS members as cameos

Themes: smut | comedy | ghost!au | haunted house!au | amateur ghost hunters!au | friends to lovers!au

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: “I’ve done a research about a haunted house which is like only one village away from Jiwoo’s parents’ house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. You’re subscribers will love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Warnings: amateur ghost hunting | irresponsible usage of ghost hunting devices | mentions of brutal deaths | mentions of Jungkook being a YouTuber | plenty pop culture references | friendly bickering | main characters being idiots | occasional spooky stuff | penetrative sex | 

__________

Knock! Knock!

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked straightforwardly upon seeing me on the other side of the doors. As per usual, I smiled brightly, waiting for him to move aside, so I could feel myself home.

“I’m inviting myself in,” I answered, walking past him. “Tonight is a big day, and we gotta get ourselves ready,” I added and put two heavy shopping bags on the floor before plopping on the couch, catching my breath. “I planned the entire day, and we’re already far behind schedule. If it wasn’t for the traffic, I would be here about thirty minutes earlier.”

“It’s just a Halloween party,” Jungkook stated, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal; Jiwoo organizes one every year.”

“The party is just one of the things we’re gonna do,” I started, excited to tell him about everything I had meticulously planned. I was going to make sure he would never forget this night. “I’ve prepared a few surprises before the party.”

“Do I wanna know?” Jungkook asked, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“One thing at a time, okay?” I proposed, and Jungkook unwillingly complied; he had never been the one to fancy surprises, but he could make an exception for his best friend. “First thing on the list – re-watching the season 6 of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural while eating unhealthy snacks and having gin and tonic drinks,” I revealed, and Jungkook scrutinized me, making an ugly face.

“Are we talking postmortem, too?”

“I can’t believe you had to ask me that,” I answered, a little bit disappointed that he thought I’d skip this content. Never; it was too good to be ever skipped on.

“Sweet,” Jungkook exclaimed, jumping out of the armchair in excitement. “Why don’t you turn on the playlist, and I’ll go get us glasses and a bowl for the chips?”

Hurriedly, I logged into Jungkook’s computer and turned on YouTube.

“Which episode was your favorite?” Jungkook asked me as he sat on the couch beside me, setting the tableware on the coffee table next to the laptop.

“All of them were good. They’ve gathered a lot of evidence this season, but for me, the house call one was the best."

“It was dope, but my favorite is definitely the season finale,” Jungkook stated, and I couldn't disagree. All of the episodes were great, and it was impossible to choose the best one – objectively, at least. All of them were hilarious and spooky in their own way, and it was a delight to re-watch them again. “The marathon shall begin,” he added, pressing the play button.

“Finally.”

It was a very peaceful afternoon, and frankly, it was exactly what I needed after a couple of hectic days at the university. The professors were more demanding than usual, and a relaxing hangout was the perfect remedy to all the stress I had been put under.

Per each episode, Jungkook and I would have a drink and empty a bag of potato chips, occasionally bickering about how we would act in these haunted places. While we both considered ourselves shainiacs, it was quite obvious we would chicken out in the moment of strange, not necessarily supernatural, occurrence.

For the outsiders, Jungkook might have seemed to be a tough cookie, but in reality, he was just a big softie. I, on the other side, enjoyed horrors a bit too much; therefore, in the face of danger, I would laugh.

Probably.

One cannot be sure without actually witnessing a supernatural occurrence. Best case scenario – a full- body apparition. 

“You would totally run outside screaming,” Jungkook snickered when the ghoul boys’ spirit box picked up a bizarre voice. “You would lose your fucking mind.”

“I would let out a confused chuckle at best,” I fought back, but Jungkook wasn’t having any of this, throwing a potato chip at me, blowing a raspberry. “See, this is why Jiwoo doesn’t like you. You’re too childish.”

“What are you talking about? Jiwoo adores me,” Jungkook protested, and I couldn’t help myself but burst his little bubble of confidence and self-assurance. “I'm like... her best friend.”

“She only tolerates you because she has the biggest crush on Jimin,” I explained, and Jungkook gasped in disbelief. “What? You didn’t know?” I asked, confused because it was too obvious not to notice her infatuation. Only Jimin was too blind to see it, despite Jiwoo’s blatant flirting.

“Of course, I know. I’m not that stupid,” Jungkook answered, but I still thought he and Jimin shared one brain cell. “Too bad for her; Jimin's dumb.”

“I'm betting she's gonna make a move tonight,” I started, knowing the juicy gossip which would pique Jungkook's interest. “Jimin told me he's cosplaying as Fred from Scooby-Doo, and she's coincidentally dressing as Daphne. She's gonna be as subtle as a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”

“Weird way to put it, but I agree,” Jungkook answered, giggling adorably under his breath. “And where's your costume?” Jungkook asked, confused, as he finally noticed the lack of my spooky outfit. Our whole crew enjoyed Halloween too much to attend a party in basic all black clothes. “Jiwoo's not gonna let you in without one. You know it.”

“Relax; I'm going as the Nun from the Conjuring Universe. My costume's at Jiwoo's. I'm not parading in that hellish make-up, giving people heart attacks,” I elaborated, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my choice. Last year, I had been dressed as a very vivid horror character, and a few elders had got pretty spooked. I'm not going down that road again. “I've only got white face powder, three black eyeliners, and a set of black contact lenses on me. And check this out; all of it fitted into my new fanny pack. It's awesome, isn't it?” I showed it to Jungkook, and he grabbed it to investigate my new purchase.

“I've been trying to convince you to buy one for almost a year; what've changed your mind?” Jungkook asked suspiciously, remembering numerous rejections of his (in his opinion) well-argued propositions. In all honesty, I considered fanny packs a terrible accessory, but tonight it suited the occasion. It was more comfortable than a purse or a backpack, and surprisingly, it could fit more items than I had previously assumed. “You've also got a new phone case? It's awesome! Why didn't you get one for me, too?” He added in a whiny tone after inspecting my latest let's summon demons phone case.

“I'd say my fanny pack is going to be a Mystery Mousketool, but then I realized you know what the item is, and you don't know what it's going to be used for,” I started rumbling, and Jungkook looked at me in visible confusion. Perhaps, he had one drink too many to comprehend my twisted presentation. “All I'm saying now, it may come in handy if the second phase of my amazing plan goes a little bit off track,” I continued vaguely. Best friends or not, I couldn't straightforwardly confess that it would be easier for me to run for my life if the police would start chasing us for trespassing a haunted property.

“Whatever's going on your mind, I don't like it,” Jungkook muttered as my previous account must've triggered his spider-sense. “What are you plotting?”

“It's nothing, really,” I tried to dismiss the topic, but Jungkook wasn't having any of that; he wanted to know everything about my secret plan, and he wouldn't stop glaring at me until I'd tell him all the details. With this man, keeping a secret wasn't a possibility.

“Tell me, or else I'm not going anywhere,” Jungkook threatened, and Halloween or not, I knew he wasn't joking. For him, gaming all night was just as entertaining as attending a party; therefore, he didn't have any trouble choosing either one of them. At this point, the only thing I could do was to advertise my plan, making it irresistible. “I was planning on streaming this one game this week, and I might as well start doing it today,” Jungkook carried on with his nerdy shenanigans, letting me know it was my cue to change the subject, snowing him under a handful of promises of an adventurous unforgettable night.

“I've done a research about a haunted house which is like one village away from Jiwoo's parents' house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. Your subscribers would love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?” I blurted out on one breath, hoping my sincerity was enough to convince him. “Pretty please?”

***

The bus to the village was about to leave at 17:06, and we had only ten minutes left to double-check our inventory: two go pro cameras, two old-fashioned flashlights, a legitimate spirit box (which Jungkook had been gifted two months ago on his birthday), an ouija board (which he gave me for my early birthday), and a spare bottle of booze if we sobered up before arriving at the location.

Due to traffic, our bus arrived a few minutes late, but we were in a great mood, so we didn’t mind it that much. If anything, we were even more excited, because it would be already getting dark upon our arrival.

“So tell me something about your research,” Jungkook started, as we found a couple of empty seats in the back row of the bus – finally we were the cool kids.

“OK, so check this out,” I started, sitting comfortably in my window seat, rubbing my hands together in ardor. “No one really knows how many ghosts haunt this place, yet according to previous owners’ accounts there are at least three ghosts roaming all around the house, and I have my theory about their identities,” I said with a mischievous smirk upon my face, waiting for Jungkook to compliment my well-done research.

“What’s your theory?” He inquired, already intrigued by the house’s story.

Even it was only my thesis.

“Finally, let’s go over some theories,” I said, quoting my favorite YouTube channel.

Whispering, I told him everything I had managed to dig out, successfully keeping Jungkook on the edge of his seat for the entire ride.

It was a mystery how many ghosts actually haunt this location, but according to the witnesses’ testimonies, old newspaper articles, and land registers, I was sure about three names. All of the three men were once residents, and all of them died tragically within the sinister four walls.

The unholy trinity of Kims – that’s the name of my theory.

The house was built in 1913 on an old rye field. It was a very amicable side of the village, and no one had expected the house could bring so much evil.

The first tenants moved in 1915, and though neither of them died, they reported they had witnessed strange happenings within the premises, beginning with the dog barking in the middle of the night at the darkness, ending with them hearing screeching sounds from under the walls.

One night, they stirred awake with their skin covered in scratches, and their dog breathing heavily, slowly bleeding to death. Needless to say, they moved out before the dawn, leaving all of their belongings behind.

While the majority of the locals believed it was witches’ revenge since the coven had been denied the premises, some of whom thought the family was mentally-ill and violent.

The house remained empty way until 1973 when Kim Seokjin moved in. Back in the time, he was a singer, slowly gaining popularity. Having signed the contract with an entertainment label, he bought a house as his own getaway when he needed a break from his demanding fans.

He would reside in the house a few times a year, only when he was desperate for a few moments of solitude. In late October 1974, he went for a short hiatus. Late evening, when he was relaxing with a glass of scotch, someone knocked on his doors, asking for someone – almost like in The Strangers.

Seokjin suspected the stranger was just a very sneaky fan and locked the person outside. The sole purpose of buying the property so far away from the city was precisely omitting situations like this.

Unfortunately for him, it was not a fan.

Later that night, a dozen of Satanists broke into Seokjin’s house, tied him up, and carried him straight to the basement where they performed a grim ritual. According to the police report released to the press, he was discovered lying on his back in the middle of a bloody pentagram, his intestines gutted out, his tongue cut out found in a golden goblet, and two paper knives sticking out of his eyeballs.

It is told that his ghost roams around the basement, leaving a bloody trace after him. Moreover, a young journalist, back in 1981, while doing research about satanic rituals, claims she had seen his ghost, resting in a rocking chair down in the basement, sipping a glass of alcohol. She even swore she could smell a mixture of whisky and blood in the air.

Unfortunately, she didn’t gather any evidence, later being called a lunatic by the disbelieving society.

The house waited for its new residents for twenty years – in August 1994, a newly wedded couple moved in right after their honeymoon. Kim Namjoon was a poet, teaching European literature on the university, while his wife, Kim Joori, was a sweet librarian.

At first, they didn’t notice anything strange. No weird noises, no unexpected guests, no cold spots, no nothing. Everything was peaceful until they decided to conduct a major renovation – it was then when the hell unleashed.

In 1996 they decided to start trying for a baby, and though they both fancied the old décor of the house, it was evident it wasn’t a safe space for a child. While they were thrilled to upgrade the property, providing their newborn with safety, the entities which lived inside were not.

Joori was the one who started experiencing supernatural happenings; she only worked three times a week, and the majority of her time, she spent alone at home. During these late hours, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. At first, she justified it with stress and a shitload of work regarding the renovation, but then, the occurrences she had witnessed couldn’t be explained with logic.

Joori wanted to sell the property and move out, yet Namjoon would always dismiss her pleas. It wasn’t until November 1996 when Joori, who was already three months pregnant, and Namjoon had a big fight. She gave him an ultimatum, and when Namjoon chose the house over her, she moved out.

A few collective nights after Joori’s departure, Namjoon would sit by the newly rebuilt fireplace and drink into oblivion. It was the first time he noticed peculiar activity in the house, yet he blamed the alcohol for it.

Slowly, day after day, Namjoon would lose his mind. It started off with strange whispers. The voice in his head, or so he thought, begged him to call Joori and bring her back, yet his pride would always stop after pressing the 6th digit of her parents’ landline.

Then it was tugs; from time to time, Namjoon would feel his shirt being tugged. It was challenging to explain with logic, but he opted for blaming the trauma for making him delusional. Namjoon would rather believe his brain was slowly frying itself than accept the supernatural entities.

At some point, he also started hearing distant giggles within the house and seeing shadows passing between walls, but the last straw that broke the camel’s neck was definitely his book of poems flying across the room, landing in the middle of the carpet, and then shredding into pieces right in front of his eyes. While a lot of events could be blamed on the strong drafts of wind or poor timely construction of the house, some things he witnessed were unexplainable.

Shortly after the incident, the entity residing in the house became violent – it wanted Namjoon away, and since he wasn’t going to leave like his wife, there was another way of getting rid of him.

Namjoon wanted to leave the house, reach out to Joori and start anew with her and their baby.

However, he never did.

On a Christmas morning, Joori paid him a visit and the things she witnessed traumatized her for life.

Namjoon’s suitcase was neatly packed, waiting by the doors to be picked up. The house was spotless, except for Namjoon’s study.

Walls were painted red with blood, Namjoon’s body dismembered – pieces of his body parts scattered all over the floor. Only his head was in scarless, resting on top of his desk, right next to his ripped poetry book.

No signs of forced entry, no motive, no evidence.

The police obviously closed the case, but Joori never felt at peace, still believing it was the entity that killed her husband.

And now, finally, the third Kim.

Kim Taehyung.

Not that long time ago, in 2007, the land was purchased by happy-go-lucky Kim Taehyung. At that time, Taehyung was only 19. He bought the house with his inheritance. Ever since little, he was very family-orientated, and when he had a chance to purchase a property, he didn’t hesitate.

Just like former residents, Taehyung didn’t sense anything odd; the omnipresent feeling of darkness came with time. However, even then, Taehyung would dismiss all the strange occurrences happening inside the house.

He had never been one to get scared easily, so a round of floor creaking or cold spots didn’t really impress him.

On the 17th of April, his girlfriend, Chanmi, slept over for the first time, and it was chilling.

According to her testimony, after their steamy sex session, she felt as if being watched. Later on that night, when they were sleeping, cuddling under the sheets, she heard distinctive steps downstairs.

Frightened, suspecting it was a burglar, she shook Taehyung awake, yet the moment he opened his eyes, the noise stopped. Complete undisturbed silence. To Taehyung, Chanmi seemed paranoid (and not accustomed to new surroundings), but he loved her dearly and checked the house, calming her.

Although Taehyung didn’t find anything, Chanmi already knew she didn’t feel welcomed – ever since that night, she made sure they would hang out at her place. Whatever it was that she sensed – it was pure evil.

On the 23rd of June, they had a big fight, and when Chanmi came over the next day to makeup, Taehyung was already gone.

His body was discovered in the bathroom on the second floor – he was lying in the bathtub, sharp pieces of mirror protruding from his wounded body.

Chanmi screamed and fell onto her knees.

But it wasn’t the worst thing about that day – the moment she started sobbing, Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, looked at her with his dead eyes, and in a throaty voice, he growled her name.

In a matter of seconds, Chanmi got back on her feet and bolted out of the house, swearing to herself that she’d never ever return there.

Though the police suspected a murder, deep down, Chanmi knew it was the evil’s doing. She never bothered mentioning that in her official statement, knowing the cops wouldn’t believe her.

Ever since Taehyung’s tragic death, the residence belongs to the city. Despite multiple proposals, it has never been sold.

And now, it’s our cue to investigate these haunted premises.

“You’re shitting me right now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked me, probably both crept out and impressed. My research was thorough and off-putting at once, and I was sure it partially discouraged him from participating in the exploration.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve read that shit about the house, and you still wanna go there? What’s wrong with you? Only a psychopath can enjoy doing shit like that,” Jungkook argued, and I couldn’t find an answer right away.

I loved horror films and scary stories, mostly because I loved discrediting them and finding flaws in the storylines, and right now, I was about to do the same, but my subject was a real thing.

I didn’t have huge expectations – it was more than probable that we wouldn’t find anything, yet at the same time, it would be pretty dope to witness something strange. Jungkook shouldn’t be that worried – in the worst (best) scenario, we would get spooked by another team of amateur ghost hunters.

“Come on, Kook, grow a pair,” I started, trying to take our conversation on a less pressing level. It was just a silly ghost hunting gig, yet Jungkook sounded serious, almost as if we were going through the pros and cons of keeping a baby. “Ghost ain’t real; the scariest thing inside that house it probably bats,” I reasoned, and Jungkook agreed with a sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook said, finally manning up for the mission. “Let’s get this shit over with,” he added when the vehicle stopped at our bus stop.

***

“So… what do you think?” I inquired when the murder house was within our eyesight; the building was spacious, and it really stood out amongst the other residences – no one could miss it. From quite a distance, you could see there was something evil about it, even the fence around the property was installed upside down, supposedly to lock the supernatural entities inside.

“It doesn’t look very welcoming if you ask me,” Jungkook started, scratching the back of his head, probably trying to come up with a good excuse to call it a day and just head over to Jiwoo’s party. “Just by the look of it, I can tell there’s something wrong about it,” he added, and I hummed in agreement.

“Are your spider-senses tingling again?” I asked, and Jungkook elbowed me lightly, not enjoying my teasing. “But for real now. Should we take a few selfies before going in?” I proposed, and Jungkook eagerly agreed, as if prolonging the inevitable reconnaissance.

Carefully, Jungkook wrapped his arm around my frame and snapped a few pictures with his phone, making sure the haunted house was standing proudly in the background. Then, he took another series of photos with my camera.

“If we’re seriously going in there, I think I need an intro for my Halloween special video, don’t you think?” Jungkook announced, pulling out his go-pro camera. After giving me a quick instruction, we started rolling.

At first, he reported what we were doing, but then, he started talking about the new segment of his channel, and my brain just froze. Although I respected his passion for gaming, I completely lost focus whenever he started blabbering about it. But honestly, I thought it was healthy for our friendship. We had a lot of things in common, yet it was a blessing to be different at some point. Whenever one of us felt a bit overwhelmed, we could engage in independent activities. For Jungkook, it was gaming – I’d never try crashing his nerdy party.

“I think we got it,” I announced when Jungkook’s mouth stopped barfing gaming jargon. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind that if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” Jungkook stated, and I laughed. Right… as if this cinnamon roll could ever haunt anything.

“Puh-lease,” I retorted, trying to refrain myself from giggling. “If anything bad happened to you, you would be Kookie – the friendly ghost,” I finished, and Jungkook whined quietly, not fancying my opinion.

“Shut up,” Jungkook barked, pulling out the second fancy camera. If he were to step into that hellhole, he would gear himself up from head to toe, getting ready to catch the ghost on tape. “Let’s go in before I change my mind,” he added, as he effortlessly jumped over the fence.

“Will you help me? Not everyone has legs for days,” I mumbled as I extended my arms, so Jungkook could support me when I made my way through the first obstacle. “Thanks,” I quickly said when Jungkook grabbed me, and carefully put me on the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve got a sexy pair of legs,” Jungkook complimented me, and though in other circumstances I’d blush, this time I ignored it, focusing on the vibration I felt in the butt pocket of my jeans.

The second I put my foot on the unholy soil, weird shit started happening.

Interesting.

My first thought was that I got a text message on my phone, but then it struck me that I always had my phone on silent mode. Quickly, I checked my cell phone, and it turned out that Siri turned itself on.

“What can I help you with?”

The device turned itself on again, but this time in my hand, when I didn’t push any buttons.

“It’s not a good sign,” Jungkook commented, and I started to second guess the brilliance behind my ingenious plan. “It’s not too late to turn around and leave. I won’t be disappointed if you chicken out,” he carried on, but I just grinned at him. There was no way I’d wimp out.

“Nice try; we’re going in,” I prompted, confidently walking toward the main entrance, Jungkook following behind me, probably shooting the surroundings.

As soon as we stepped onto the porch, the wood would start to creak underneath the pressure. Just like everything about the house, it gave off that creepy vibe.

“Showtime,” I whispered under my breath as I extended my hand and grabbed the knob. Just as expected, it was locked.

“Well… it looks like another sign to me. Let’s go back,” Jungkook spoke, trying once again to convince me to back out.

“Get a grip; we’re going in,” I ordered, and Jungkook sighed, regretting that he couldn’t say no to me. “I’m picking the lock; Betty in Riverdale does it all the time, it can’t be that difficult,” I muttered, reaching into my new fanny pack for a bobby pin.

“Are you for real? Since when anything they do in Riverdale makes any sense to you?” Jungkook wondered, but I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his mean comments. “You’re not opening that lock,” he added, making my blood boil. In times of crisis, Jungkook wasn’t very supportive.

“Just shut up, I almost got it,” I barked, sticking my tongue out, adjusting myself to my ultimate focus form, ignoring Jungkook and his shenanigans. Not only he showed me no support, but also he pulled out the small bottle of booze and took a gulp, without proposing me some.

“Just deal with it. We won’t get inside,” Jungkook teased again, pissing me off, and then leaning in, literally breathing on my neck.

“I really hate you right now,” I yelled at him as I straightened up, dropping my bobby pin in the process. “It was my only one,” I whined, kicking in doors in frustration, and to my surprise, it swung wide open.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook murmured, smiling sheepishly, moving aside.

“How gentlemanly of you,” I tsked, turning on the flashlight before entering the building. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to edit your video, deceiving people into thinking you’re a real macho man,” I complained, inspecting the foyer.

Nothing out of the ordinary. For now.

“I’ve got chills,” I stated matter-of-factly when the silence inside the house started to bother me. Though I didn’t believe in ghosts, for some stupid reasons, my heart rate quickened. I felt uneasy, and when I heard my voice echo across the room, I felt less crept out. “Which room should we check out first?”

“When I listened to you on the bus, all of them sounded awful,” Jungkook honestly answered while shedding some light around the living room. “If got rid of all the dust, it’d look pretty comfy,” he added, and I snorted, not expecting him to give me such a nonchalant comment.

Unfortunately, it seemed I was the jittery one.

Well… fuck.

“How about we check out Ouija board in Namjoon’s study,” I proposed, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Maybe there’s still some blood left. You said it was pretty messy,” Jungkook added in excitement, making me wonder how the hell he did a 180 so fast. Not even two minutes ago, he acted like an adorable sacredly cat, but right now, he seemed confident enough to roundhouse kick all the demons back to hell.

“I doubt so, but it’s worth checking,” I answered, and we both headed to the east wing of the house, navigating toward Namjoon’s office. “It may sound ridiculous, but I’m getting horny,” I confessed, and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, gawking at me, not expecting such revelation.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist my manly charms,” Jungkook murmured cockily, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. “I knew you would fall for me eventually.”

“Right… I’d rather believe a sex demon just possessed me,” I retorted, and for some reason, Jungkook didn’t find it funny. Come on, it was hilarious! “OK, I guess you’re kinda hot right now,” I gave in, unwillingly stroking his ego.

Not my fault, he was just irresistible.

“I knew it,” Jungkook cheered right before when we finally found the right room. This was it – the first space to be “properly” investigated.

Putting the flashlights on the desk, we set the Ouija board on the floor, sitting across from each other.

“Do you know how to use it?” Jungkook inquired, and I smiled sheepishly, telling him I knew bits and pieces, though I had absolutely no idea if my knowledge was legit since it all was based on multiple horror films I had seen. “I’ll check it online,” he proposed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing his inquiry into Google’s search tab. “Whoa, the signal here is no joke; I have a better connection than I have at my apartment. How expensive is this house again?”

“You’re really dumb, you know…”

“You love me regardless, so I don’t really care,” Jungkook absentmindedly replied while browsing through the answers. “OK, it’s easy.”

Briefly, Jungkook explained the ceremony. Apparently, the horror movies didn’t get everything wrong.

Unfortunately, the spirits inside Namjoon’s study weren’t chatty – during our session, they only edged the planchette toward the numbers 9 and 4 (the date of Namjoon’s settlement), yet I didn’t put much thought to it. Jungkook was probably moving it to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know what? It’s not as exciting as I thought it would,” I started when we were collecting our stuff, getting ready to explore another room. For the majority of the time, nothing was happening. We were sitting just sitting in darkness, waiting for something to give us a real spook.

Later, we headed towards the second floor. The stairs were creaking as we made our way up, but we didn’t pay much attention to it, being too focused on locating the bathroom to actually think about basic safety.

The bathroom looked terrifying; the tiles inside were dirty, the original color already fading. The facilities were covered in rust and probably making a lot of unnecessary noises.

“Give me your flashlight,” Jungkook ordered as he put both torches on the edge of the bathtub, one of which switched on. “If there’s something that wants to communicate with us, turn the right one on, and turn off the left one,” Jungkook spoke loudly, waiting for the lights to change, and after some time one did.

“It was definitely a ghost,” I exclaimed in fake dread, bursting out laughing a second later. “It’s solid evidence; it’s confirmed – ghosts are real,” I added, and Jungkook joined me, chuckling adorably. “You can’t change my mind.”

“If it’s you, Taehyung, tell us what happened to you,” Jungkook carried on, and I grew silent, waiting for the ghost to reach out to us. “We don’t want to hurt you; we just want to know the truth. Who killed you?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taehyung. We don’t have all night; we’ve got places to be,” I urged the ghost in a taunting manner, hoping for something to finally happen. With each passing second, our expedition seemed more and more disappointing, and though I didn’t believe in ghosts, I’d really liked to be proven wrong.

“You’re weak sauce, Taehyung!” Jungkook mocked, reaching for the flashlights, wanting to explore another active part of the house – the basement. “You had your chance, Taehyung, and you blew it.”

We quickly left the bathroom and headed to the basement, yet just before we entered the room, I hesitated.

“Maybe we should investigate the basement individually,” I proposed, and Jungkook bit the inner side of his cheek, pondering over my suggestion.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Jungkook agreed with a sigh. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, and Jungkook pulled out the spirit box, a little bit excited to use it for the first time. “Go get ’em, tiger.” I patted Jungkook on the back, and closed the doors behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

The stairs creaked when Jungkook was walking down. For a while, it was oddly silent, but then I heard the loud white noise, and I knew Jungkook finally turned the device on.

While he was down there, I roamed around the ground floor, taking a few extra selfies. Unfortunately, regardless of the flashlight, it was still dark as fuck, and I was sure none of the taken photos were Instagram-worthy.

Ten minutes passed, yet Jungkook still didn’t get out.

“You can come out now,” I shouted, but I got no reply from Jungkook.

This fucker was messing with me. I knew him too well not to understand what he was trying to do. However, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wanted to scare me shitless, but he would never succeed.

Confidently, I swung the doors open and made my way downstairs.

“Have you found anything?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook standing in the corner of the room, facing the walls.

“Nope, it was boring as fuck.”

“OK, it’s my turn. Give me the spirit box,” I spoke eagerly, waiting for Jungkook to give me the gear. He survived the individual session with ghosts, so there was nothing to be afraid of. If ghouls didn’t eat Jungkook’s cute butt, I doubted they would be after mine.

“Good luck,” Jungkook murmured and leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against my forehead before running upstairs.

OK. What the fuck?

With a slam, I was left alone in the basement, and frankly, right now, I didn’t give two shits about ghosts. What the fuck was that? Jungkook and I never showed any affection for one another. The most intimate interaction we had ever had was elbowing each other.

We didn’t kiss.

Never.

Not even an indirect kiss.

All the wires in my brain were frying. A whole army of ghosts might’ve jumped out of nowhere, and I wouldn’t give two shits about them. What the hell was Jungkook’s deal? Why did he do that?

Regardless of how much I desired to find evidence on ghosts, right now, my mind wasn’t in the right place. Thoughts of Jungkook, of how much I tried to not act on my attraction toward him, how I wanted him to make a move – they completely took over my sanity.

A full-body apparition might’ve as well started reciting Great Gatsby, and I wouldn’t notice it probably.

Trying to leave that horrifying train of thoughts, I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Tonight was about ghosts, not about Jungkook.

Promptly, I turned on the spirit box, starling at how loud it roared to life.

Except for one beam of light coming out of my flashlight, it was entirely dark, and the white noise emitted by the device made the scene even more terrifying. I would undoubtedly faint if I didn’t like this dreadful atmosphere.

“Is anyone here?” I asked and looked around – everything seemed ordinary. Well… as ordinary as an abandoned house’s basement could be.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

“What the fuck was that?” I jerked my head to the side, staring at the device in my hand. It sounded like a male voice, yet I couldn’t quite comprehend the words. “Can you repeat that? You have to speak more clearly,” I spoke, refraining from face-palming myself.

What the hell was I thinking, talking to ghosts?

I must’ve really lost my mind.

“Behind.”

Once again, I jerked my head, furrowing my eyebrows. It really sounded like the word behind, so obviously, I turned around, checking if there’s something, in fact, behind me.

There wasn’t.

“I have to hear more than just one word,” I declared, focusing on the noise, ready to pick up another message. For a long while, the white noise was ringing in my ears, but then I heard something which sounded like my name.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Jungkook’s gonna love my footage, I wondered upon hearing these strange noises. Maybe it is not groundbreaking evidence, but it surely will be thrilling to watch. Jungkook’s followers will love the new content.

“You find me.”

“Oh my God, this is awesome,” I cheered enthusiastically, and though I was having the time of my life, it was time to take the fun to the next level. “Who am I talking to? What’s your name?”

“Kim.”

“That was an instant answer,” I commented, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

Much to my dismay, it was the last coherent response I got; I sat there alone in the darkness and received only a few unintelligible reads. So much for ghost hunting… I thought, ready to leave the basement.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had two more minutes, and though it was pointless to reach out to ghosts at this point, I decided to record my useless commentary. Maybe Jungkook would use my witty monologue as a part of his YouTube clip, or if not, he’d have a good laugh when analyzing all the footage from this night.

“So… I’ve been sitting in the darkness for a while, and no ghost dared to give me a spook. It’s such a disappointment, really. These ghosts here are real wimps; I lured Jungkook inside this basement, and this may come as a big shocker to everyone, but nothing really happened to him –“

[BANG!]

Quickly, I turned my head around, trying to locate the source of the strange noise; it sounded as if it was coming from under the stairs, yet I quickly dismissed the disturbance – it must’ve been a rat or something.

Clearly, it wasn’t a ghost.

“As I was saying… this house is a complete bummer. When we first arrived, the house looked really nerve-racking, but when we actually started exploring it, it let us down. Honestly, the scariest part of this expedition probably was when Jungkook failed to prank me.”

“Your time is up,” having opened the doors, Jungkook hollered. “I’m going down there,” he added, and I turned around, giving Jungkook a chance to record my grand exit on tape.

“I’m getting outta here, ghosts. You are a bunch of wimps!”

“Did you just seriously mock the ghosts?” Jungkook asked, giggling adorably.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re going to kill me for calling them out.”

“Should we leave now? I’d stay for a little longer and recorded some weird random shit. What do you think?”

“It’s definitely gonna piss these ghosts, so I am in.”

At first, Jungkook insisted I record him dance a few Fortnite choreographies, and though I had no clue what he was doing, I kept the camera rolling. Then, I turned music on my phone, and we jammed to old K-POP hits like Super Junior’s Bonamana, SHINEE’s Lucifer, f(x)’s Electric Shock, and many others.

Then Jungkook made me record his beatbox performance, and it was torture. However, there was a silver lining – it helped me determine whether ghosts were real or not. The answer was no – no one would endure it.

And if it wasn’t for my crush on him, I’d definitely not endure it either.

Later that evening, Jungkook gave a short instruction video on how to defend oneself with basic taekwondo moves, and then we thumb-wrestled.

“You know what would really piss the ghosts off?” Jungkook inquired, and I wondered what else his one brain cell came up with since I highly doubted if it could get any dumber than it already had.

“I don’t know… what else would really piss the ghosts off?” I answered, having no idea what we could do to outdo ourselves. Everything that we had done for the past hour was already offensive as fuck.

“Isn’t it absolutely the worst when you’re in a public place, minding your business when you walk past a couple making out right in front of you?”

“It is absolutely the worst, but how is it any relevant?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow in confusion. Jungkook was right, making out openly in public was rude, and obnoxious, and one of my biggest pet peeves, yet I highly doubted the ghosts had the same hierarchy of irritating situations. They’re dead, and they can haunt people without any consequences – that’s pretty dope itself, and I just couldn’t understand why it would be their top bête noire.

“Well… it’s not completely irrelevant, and besides, ever since you’ve mentioned you’re horny, I really wanted to kiss you,” Jungkook confessed, and my jaw dropped at the revelation. Jungkook wanted to do what!?

“Well… you just played yourself,” I stated, and Jungkook creased his forehead in confusion. “Is that a confession you’ve just recorded? I bet you want to record our kiss, too. That’s kinky, and weirdly enough, it turns me on a little bit,” I finished my thought, and then Jungkook smiled widely at me, figuratively lighting up the rundown basement which we were still in.

“Well… now you just really have to kiss me,” Jungkook retorted, and I smiled mischievously, curious of how he’s going to play his cards now, “unless you want me to show your parents a video of you confessing to your kinks.”

“Well… you should’ve waited a little bit longer, maybe I would’ve named all the other kinks I’m into,” I challenged, biting my bottom lip seductively. “If you really want our first kiss to be in this shabby, totally not haunted basement, then go for it,” I consented, waiting for him to approach me and knock the air out of my lungs with a world-shattering kiss.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not exactly what you deserve, but it will be a hell of a story to tell our grandchildren one day. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself,” I retorted, chuckling. Jungkook was acting ridiculous, and it was adorable. With his cute smile and firm butt, he could get away with anything. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

At first, I expected him to say something cringe-worthy like m’lady or alrighty, but thankfully, I was wrong. With one long stride, Jungkook approached me, resting his large hand on my hips before leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss was sensual and soft, and the way I had always imagined. Gently, Jungkook pressed his plump lips against mine, and we just moved, basking in pleasure. His hand was roaming over my back and butt, whereas mine was going through his silky hair, tousling it.

Gradually, it grew in passion. Jungkook pulled me closer against him, and I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue. Though it was only one kiss, it was quickly making me thirsty for more.

It felt blissful, yet it came to an abrupt stop when we heard a loud bang upstairs.

“Well… you were right, it obviously pissed someone off,” I whispered, chuckling.

“What do you think it was?” Jungkook asked, concerned about the strange noise. “It sounded as if someone just slammed the doors shut,” Jungkook stated, and I quickly agreed with him.

“But we left the doors closed, didn’t we?” I wondered, trying to remember our previous actions. Neither one of us was perfectly sober, yet I was pretty sure we did close the doors. “OMG, this is awesome! It was probably another group of adrenaline-seeking people! We could give them the spook of their life if we jumped out of the basement,” I explained, and I was sure I wasn’t perfectly sober right now either.

“It was probably the wind, but okay, let’s do this,” although knowing it was a stupid idea, Jungkook agreed to conduct my improvised prank.

Carefully, we made our way upstairs, yet when we jumped out of our hideaway, there was nobody there.

“Stupid wind,” I murmured under my breath, really bummed out by this whole situation. “Fuck you, you stupid house. You’ve wasted our time,” I hollered at nothing in particular as I approached the doors and pulled the knob. “Jungkook, it won’t open,” I announced, taking a step to the side, letting Jungkook’s strength to let us out.

Seriously, what kind of an estate agent would try to sell this house without repairing it first? At this point, only people from these HGTV shows would consider buying it, so they could later sell it with real profit.

At first, the doors didn’t want to budge either, but then he handed me his camera and roundhouse-kicked the doors open.

Whoever locked the doors, be it the wind, the ghost, or anyone else, Jungkook’s thick thighs were more powerful.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook said as he grabbed my hand and led me outside, leaving the creepy though definitely not haunted house behind us.

***

Although the navigation system on my phone estimated our route to take us forty-five minutes on foot, Jungkook and I made that distance under half an hour. The house was creepy, but we were already late for Jiwoo’s party, and we didn’t want to face her wrath.

She had called me three times, and Jungkook and I lived in a universe where three missed calls from Jiwoo were more terrifying than fifty from mom.

When we reached Jiwoo’s house, we tried knocking on the doors, but unfortunately for us, everybody was already in a good mood. They couldn’t hear the knocks due to loud music, and I couldn’t be angry – it was our punishment for arriving so late.

Thankfully, when we walked the house around, the patio doors were open, so we got inside.

The house was packed with people, yet I was familiar with only a few of them – the majority of guests were Jiwoo’s college friends, and I haven’t yet acquainted them. In the kitchen, I saw Mario and Luigi, and I instantly knew it was Yoongi and Hoseok. Each year they have adorable couple costumes.

“Look who’s finally showed up,” I heard a loud voice from over the stairs, leading to the second floor. It was Daphne, closely followed by Fred.

“I guess Daphne and Fred just checked the bedroom,” I told Jungkook, and he chuckled, getting the reference. “I hope they didn’t find any ghosts.”

“I bet Scooby and Shaggy are already eaten by the ghost in the basement,” Jungkook carried on, and we both started to laugh.

“Your costumes are in my bedroom, but before you change, I have to feed us some jello shots,” Jiwoo started, making us follow her to the kitchen. “In which bushes were you two fucking, so you came so late?” She questioned, but Jungkook and I didn’t know how to reply. Jiwoo was unpredictable – she would either scold us for going to that house without her, or just shout at us for being reckless and irresponsible, but I guess it was her role in our friend circle.

She was the mom friend.

“We weren’t fucking,” I protested quickly, trying to buy us some time to get a better excuse for our late arrival. “If we were indeed fucking, we would be here before anyone else,” I joked, yet Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny.

It didn’t worry me, though. Jungkook and I dissed each other daily, he wasn’t going to pout. If anything, he was plotting how to get his revenge.

“Well… true,” Jiwoo replied as she high-fived me. “Don’t worry, Kookie. I’m just messing with you,” she added, and I nodded, knowing she was extra mean to impress Jimin. Retorts weren’t her strongest suit, but so far, it was okay.

Jiwoo distributed the jello shots among the four of us, and to my surprise, they weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. She had made them, and it came to me as a shock, then the proportions weren’t fifty-fifty.

“Oh my God, I just noticed you both have matching costumes. What a coincidence!” Jungkook hollered, faking his surprise, taking  revenge on Jiwoo.

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Jiwoo quickly retorted before Jungkook managed to embarrass her in front of her crush.

“Some things are just meant to be,” Jimin added, draping his arm over Jiwoo’s shoulder, making me and Jungkook gag. What the hell had we missed?!

We had totally wasted our time in that haunted house – we could have been here, watching their relationship develop in front of our eyes! Though I had no regrets after reaming around that disappointing trip to that house, now I had one regret. I was genuinely upset that I missed witnessing how the line between their friendship and love faded away.

“OK, you know what? Go upstairs and change. You disgust me without your costumes on,” Jiwoo ordered, shooing us upstairs.

Obediently, we headed to her bedroom, finding our costumes on her bed.

“I’m so tired,” I announced as I plopped down onto her bed, wanting to get some rest. The march from one location to another was more exhausting than I had initially thought, and my legs were killing me.

“Well… it’s all your fault, I told to we should call an Uber,” Jungkook replied, lying on the bed next to me. “No slacking,” Jungkook hollered, playfully slapping my butt. “If we don’t get downstairs in a few minutes, Jiwoo’s gonna bust in here and complain how we ruin her party.”

“True,” I agreed, and with a loud groan, I stood up to get changed. “And that reminds me. You’ve never told me what you’re dressing as this year,” I spoke, wondering what was inside the bag which was sitting next to my costume.

“I didn’t have time to come up with anything, so I asked Jimin to lend me his costume from last year. He was Jack Sparrow or something,” he explained, and I watched him unpacking the bag.

“Or something it is,” I started when I saw what his costume consisted of. It was basically a deep-cut white shirt, a pair of tight leather trousers, and a hat. “Good luck with fitting into it,” I snickered, wondering how uncomfortable it’s going to look like on his powerful thighs.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Jungkook said, not pleased with my commentary.

In silence, we got dressed, and since my costume wasn’t revealing, I could quickly put it on my clothes, which gave me plenty of time to gawk at Jungkook.

“I feel like a piece of meat, right now,” Jungkook commented, as he caught me staring at him, zipping his trousers. “Can you stop staring at me like that? I’m a person with feelings, not a sex toy.”

“Now you know how all girls in clubs feel,” I retorted and continued to stare at him shamelessly. Right now, I only needed a bucket of popcorn and a few bills which I could put under the hem of his pants.

“Aren’t you going to put that creepy make-up?”

“I was going to, but I don’t have energy nor patience to do that,” I answered lazily, watching him button his shirt. “Besides, I checked myself in the mirror, and I’m rocking that Mary-Eunice look right now,” I added, and Jungkook agreed, approving my American Horror Story costume.

“You know what? Even when you wear that ridiculous nun costume, I would still fuck you,” Jungkook blatantly confessed, and I giggled, not knowing how to react to this odd compliment. “I really must be wrapped around your little finger. You even made me go to that abandoned house.”

“You make me blush,” I admitted shyly before approaching him. Then, standing on my toes, I pecked his lips innocently. “We better go downstairs, Jiwoo must be furious at us for taking so long,” I added, exiting the room, leaving Jungkook speechless behind me.

Though at first, we were too tired to party hard, Jimin and Jiwoo engaged us in a few drinking games, and I was thankful I managed to bullshit myself out of playing truth and dare with them.

I realized what Jiwoo would make me do or confess, and I’d rather Jungkook find it out in different, more private, circumstances.

Around three a.m., people slowly started to get tired, one by one heading upstairs to either fuck each other’s brains out or simply find an empty bed to sleep in. At that time, Jungkook and I were chilling in the kitchen, munching on the food which other guests had the courtesy of leaving.

“We should go on a date on Saturday,” Jungkook proposed, and I looked him in the eyes, nodding my head. “What do you want to do on our first date?” He asked, leaning against the countertop next to me.

“Is there any chance you’re wearing this outfit on our first date?” I asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head. I teased him all night about this outfit, and by now, he must’ve dreamed about taking it off at least a dozen times. Best case scenario: taking it off right in front of already naked me.

“Nope, stare at me while you still can,” Jungkook said, and I didn’t dare to question his decision. Though he looked like a snack, I respected his choice. He wasn’t going to wear it again, and I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I was kind of curious about how he looked naked. “So… what do you want to do on Saturday? Bowling? A candlelight supper? Cinema?”

“I was gonna say that anything is fine as long as it’s with you, but would you really prepare a candlelight supper for me?” I questioned, quite amazed by his proposition. Jungkook rarely cooked himself, and even if he happened to whip something up in the kitchen, it would be ramen or something just as easy to make.

“Of course, anything,” Jungkook promised, and I tried my very best right not to kiss him. “It probably won’t be any tasty, but at least, I made it with my hands.”

Oh, screw it.

Instantly, I pulled him closer, smashing my lips against his. The moment he realized what I was doing, he reciprocated the kiss.

“I don’t really care,” I spoke, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Oh, shit,” I cursed upon noticing Jiwoo and pushed Jungkook away.

“I think everybody’s asleep already, what are you guys still doing here?” She asked, eyeing the both of us.

“Nothing, we were just eating,” I stated, though Jiwoo didn’t fully believe in my innocent reply. “What have you been up to? Your green scarf is gone, and you have a hickey on your neck. Have you had fun with Jimin?” I inquired, and she looked away in embarrassment.

Jiwoo had never been to shy away, but she didn’t act like herself around Jimin. When with him, she became a better person, and right now, she was blushing. It was the first time when I saw her behaving like that, and I liked it.

With Jimin by her side, Jiwoo was slowly turning in the best version of herself, and the transition was crystal clear. Even Jungkook wouldn’t miss it.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow; right now, I just want to clean up and go to bed,” Jiwoo said, and I knew it was our cue to live. I didn’t like cleaning, and I knew Jiwoo wouldn’t appreciate my help. She would prefer Jimin’s assistance. “You’re sleeping in the guest room with Yoongi and Hoseok.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and we slowly headed to the guest room, knowing that Jimin would shortly join Jiwoo. They thought they were subtle, but they really weren’t. One look was enough, and Jungkook and I knew everything.

“I hope Yoongi and Hoseok already fucked each other,” Jungkook stated before we entered our room, and I agreed. I wouldn’t like to walk on them fucking. I just wanted to lie down and get some sleep.

***

On Friday, I focused only on myself. I needed to recover fully after a long night of drinking, but also, I wanted to pamper myself a little bit before my date with Jungkook. I was sure he was going to prepare everything to perfection, like the golden boy he has always been, and it only made sense that his girlfriend (me) also ought to be perfect.

I took a long, relaxing bath, I wore a face mask, I ate plenty of fruit, I planned my next week of college, I even turned on the relatively new drama with Ji Changwook, and whipped up a mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The day was peaceful, and I cherished every second of it before I had to face reality and go to classes on Monday.

In the evening, I even chatted with Jiwoo, listening to a few newest rumors. I didn’t expect her to have any time to spare, but apparently, to her, gossip was more important than her new boyfriend. Good thing she had her priorities set straight.

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | omg you won’t believe it!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | I know why Seulgi and Irene didn’t come

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | apparently

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | they were on a date yesterday!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | Chanyeol told Jimin that Jongin were their Uber driver and he took them to a fancy restaurant

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | I was gonna get really mad

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | but I ship them so hard

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | I mean…

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:23 | fucking finally

Jiwoo wasn’t ashamed of double texting, obviously. If she had gossip to deliver, she would spam anyone until she would get a reply, and frankly, it never upset me. Mostly because I was texting the same way.

Me | 17:25 | told you

Me | 17:25| I knew they had hots for each other

Me | 17:26 | you should be glad they didn’t come

Me | 17:26 | they probably fucked all night long

Me | 17:27 | that would be gross if they did it at your place

Me | 17:27 | it’s enough that Jungkook and I walked on Yoongi and Hoseok

Me | 17:28 | if it was my house I’d kick them out

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:30 | they did what????

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:31 | are you kidding me???

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:31 | so Jimin lied to me

Me | 17:32 | wow

Me | 17:32 | you started dating and he’s already lying

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:33 | Jimin told me they behaved well

Me | 17:34 | pls don’t make a scene

Me | 17:35 | you better let them taste their own medicine

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | I knew I shouldn’t have invited them

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | they’re cute but also horny af

With Jiwoo, when we started texting, we didn’t know how to stop. Topics would come and go, and we would always come up with something new. This night wasn’t any different. When we discussed everyone’s behavior during the party, late changing the subject to the people who couldn’t make it. Then, we would exchange messages about the newest K-POP hits, scandals, and dramas. Sometimes, we would even send memes to one another.

Usually, we would continue our conversation until one of us was tired and went to sleep, but tonight a bizarre text from Jungkook made me finish.

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | come over

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | now

Well… rude.

We didn’t even go on our first date yet, and he treated me like a booty call.

No, it couldn’t be.

Me | 21:42 | what do you mean???

Me | 21:42 | Jeon Jungkook

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:42 | get your juicy ass over here

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | asap

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | you need to see something

What the hell did he want? Couldn’t he wait until tomorrow to meet me? If he wanted to see me, he could just text me like he a regular person. He didn’t have to act like an asshole about it.

Me | 21:45 | fine

Me | 21:45 | I’ll be in thrity

Me | 21:46 | if it’s your dick that I need to see you’re dead

***

Within thirty minutes, I was at Jungkook’s apartment, breathing heavily. His flat was located on the fourth floor, and the elevator was out of order, and whenever I had to take the stairs, I could feel blood on my tongue.

It wouldn’t hurt me that much to tag along once in a while to the gym with Kook. Well… hopefully.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked instantly when Jungkook swung the doors open. “Jungkook, I swear, if it’s a booty call, I’m gonna be pissed,” I warned him when Jungkook grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Jungkook reassured me as he led me to his bedroom.

Well… he might’ve said it wasn’t a booty call, yet his actions were giving me a totally different message. He was literally dragging me to his bedroom.

“What is going on?” I asked once again, as he made me sit in his gaming chair.

“So… I was editing the footage we recorded at this creepy house, and I found some weird shit,” he started before he leaned against the desk, looking for the right file to show me. “I watched every frame of these tapes, and there’s something seriously wrong with your individual session in the basement.”

“What do you mean by wrong? Can you be more specific? I didn’t feel nor see anything weird when I was down there,” I said, cocking my eyebrows up in utter confusion. Was there something my eye didn’t catch, but the camera did?

“Well… there is like a shadow lingering above you,” Jungkook confessed, and I fought the urge to laugh into his face. It was a shadow, and shadows do linger. “You don’t seem convinced, so why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Ugh, fine,” I answered, focusing on the screen.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Jungkook was right. It lasted for a couple of seconds; there was an irregular black specter behind me, and it couldn’t be my shadow – I was perfectly still while it moved for a while, and then disappeared.

It was terrifying.

“I’m speechless.”

Seeing my reaction, Jungkook sat on the edge of the desk and grabbed my hand.

“I know it looks like something supernatural, but I’m pretty sure it can be explained somehow. Don’t worry; all fellow ghost hunters would discredit this evidence in seconds.”

“I’m not worried; I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not worry,” I spoke, still a little shook about the discovery. “Did you find anything else when editing?” I inquired, wondering if Jungkook had more aces up his sleeve.

“Nothing solid,” he declared with a sigh. “I was listening to the messages picked up by the spirit box, and one statement which you assumed unintelligible sounds like not alone, but once again, it’s not perfectly clear. It’s probably just my mind interpreting the white noise.”

“Too bad ghosts ain’t real. If we caught it on tape, we would be millionaires,” I confessed, and Jungkook nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think we’ve gathered a lot of entertaining footage; my viewers are going to love it. It’s probably the dumbest video I’ve ever recorded,” Jungkook spoke, and I started to grin.

He was right – we were a great duo.

“Glad, I could help,” I answered proudly, boasting about my recording skills. Having tooted my own horn for an inappropriate amount of time, I inquired, “Since I’m already here, what do you want to do?”

“How about we cuddle?” Jungkook proposed, plopping on his bed, waiting for me to join him, and since his proposition was irresistible, I obediently lay down beside him, resting my head on his firm chest. “Mm… it’s so comfy,” Jungkook purred as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“Have you decided where you’re taking me tomorrow?” I inquired, curious as hell about our date. Knowing Jungkook and how perfect he was at everything he did, I could only guess he would exceed my wildest expectations.

“How is it gonna sound if I tell you I’ve already had it planned out for a while?” Jungkook confessed, and I giggled when he started to press delicate kisses across my neck. It was ticklish, but I liked being teased like that.

“Is there a chance you tell me? You know I hate surprises,” I spoke, turning around on my side, caressing Jungkook’s chest and abs. Jungkook smiled adorably and shook his head. Damn it. “Is there a chance I can guess it?” I tried a different approach, but Jungkook shook his head once again.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Jungkook said, and I pouted.

“Is there a chance I can convince you to tell me now?” I challenged him, and before he managed to shake his head again, I sat astride on his muscular thighs, making him speechless. “You can tell me. I can pretend I’m surprised tomorrow,” I urged him, playfully moving my hips against his crotch. Curiosity was in my nature, and Jungkook was really getting under my skin with his stubbornness.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” Jungkook stated before he effortlessly flipped us over, pinning me down to the mattress. “I’d love to push you to your limits, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Come on, Jungkook. You can tell me. We’re best friends, and we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I carelessly mumbled until Jungkook shut me up with a passionate kiss, reminding me that we no longer were just best friends.

With my eyes closed, I gave in entirely, letting Jungkook’s hands roam all over my body. Our mouths moved in sweet harmony while my body writhed beneath him every time his little touches set my skin on fire.

This moment was magical, and I wished every time with Jungkook to be just as good. His smooth and soft movements made my body respond, leaving me breathless and craving for me whenever it lost contact with his hands.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” Jungkook absentmindedly confessed while he was pressing sensual kisses along my chin. “We should wait, shouldn’t we?” I inquired, and I wanted to shout my objection.

Judging by his boner digging into my thigh, he also wanted me to oppose.

“You should’ve thought about it before you kissed me like that,” I replied, and Jungkook smirked, tugging my blouse out of my jeans, slipping his large hands on my bare stomach, slowly making his way up to my breasts. “It’s too late to go back, lover boy,” I added, undoing the buttons of my blouse.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Drop dead,” I corrected him, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on my cleavage, wondering how my breasts bounce. Arching my back, I wrapped my hands around Jungkook’s hips, pressing them against me, making me feel his throbbing cock.

“You won’t be a good girl, will you?” Jungkook asked me, and I bit my lip, shaking my head, hoping he expected such an answer. “Of course, you won’t. Why did I even ask?” Jungkook smirked, playfully nibbling my delicate skin all over my cleavage, while his hand undid the button of my jeans.

“You always assume the worst when it comes to me,” I reminded him, tugging the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to get rid of it. It wasn’t fair – I was almost half-naked while Jungkook was still fully-clothed. “Take it off, I’m losing my patience,” I ordered, and Jungkook quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing in on the floor. “Jeans, too,” I added, and with an angry growl, Jungkook stood up and discarded his pants as well.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, standing in front of me only in a pair of boxers.

“Over the moon,” I retorted, and Jungkook smirked as a playful idea crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?” I questioned uncertainly, but Jungkook didn’t bother to reply. He just leaned forward, slid his fingers under the hem of my jeans, and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

“You make me impatient,” he confessed, and I kneeled on the bed, waiting for him to join me again. I needed him to kiss every inch of my body.

Right now.

“Come here,” I urged him, and he obediently sat on the bed, allowing me to sit astride on him again. “I wanna fuck you like this,” I blurted out, entwining my fingers behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer into another heated kiss.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Jungkook whispered when we finally parted. “Just jump on it and ride me until I come,” he said before reaching to his night stand for a condom. “Roll it down for me, will you?”

Obediently, I pulled Jungkook’s boxers down, and smeared the pre-cum all over his thick cock before putting a condom.

“I wanted it for so long,” Jungkook whispered when I raised my hips, slowly getting seated on his length. Though Jungkook didn’t go down on me before I took his cock, I didn’t mind it. It stung a little, but I enjoyed this sensation.

“Fuck yeah,” I moaned when I slid down his length all the way to the base. For a short while, neither of us moved, letting one another get used to it. “You stretch me up so fine,” I muttered, gently rolling my hips.

“Move, princess,” Jungkook urged me, and I began to ride him. At first, my actions were delicate and a little shy, but as soon as I relaxed, I picked up the pace, rocking my hips back and forth, making Jungkook moan loudly.

“I love it when men are vocal,” I confessed when I put my hands in his hair, tugging it slightly when I happened to fall out of my rhythm. “It gets me off much faster,” I added, and as if I challenged him, Jungkook moaned again.

“Good to know; now I gotta use this information to my advantage,” Jungkook whimpered with a soft smirk upon his face. “You love hearing my deep moans, don’t you?” Jungkook asked, and I replied in a heartbeat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when Jungkook began thrusting his hips from underneath, shoving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me. “Ahh… Jung-Jungkook, keep fucking me like that, please, don’t stop,” I begged, and Jungkook even increased his pace, quickly making me overwhelmed in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook started, and I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With a couple of thrusts, I would come around his pulsating cock, and I couldn’t wait to welcome this blissful feeling. “So tight, yet you take my fat cock so well,” he praised, and I pulled his hair when he made me come.

“Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing,” I praised him, and Jungkook kept ramming his dick inside of me, chasing his own release. His stamina was no joke, and I was feeling lucky because this incredible man was mine.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m coming.” Shortly after me, Jungkook reached his orgasm, milking the condom with his jizz. “You’re out of this world,” Jungkook whispered before he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply.

We were both sticky with sweat, and we smelled like sex, but right now, I couldn’t care any less. Jungkook and I were floating in heaven.

“We should do it again in the morning,” Jungkook proposed, and I laughed, realizing it was the first time in my life I was actually excited to wake up early.

Unfortunately, our plans fell through.

Before my arrival, Jungkook had uploaded our Halloween clip into his YouTube channel, and then, Jimin forwarded it to Jiwoo.

Needless to say, Jiwoo blew up my inbox with notifications, furious at me and Jungkook for doing something so reckless shit without her supervision. Once again, she was the mom friend, and going into an abandoned house without her knowing was pure evil.

Thankfully, she didn’t hold a grudge for a long time – she grew pretty soft on us as soon as she discovered Jungkook and I were well… dating.

[iheartsunset]

Taylor headcanons?

Taylor Papa Louie HCs

(Aaaaaaaa I love this boy so much like gosh darn he’s amazing and beautiful and second only to W A L L Y in my heart)

-Taylor Morales (sorry I love into the spiderverse too much) is a 20 year old professional dancer, baseball player, and Hotdoggeria worker who lives with his foster brother, Chuck, in their Tastyville apartment. One of the sweetest guys you could ever meet, he’s become a real pillar in his community, especially after starting a foundation helping at risk children and families everywhere. He spends most of his days lovingly daydreaming about his boyfriend and girlfriend, serving sports fanatics at the stadium, and doing stupid stuff with Chuck. He’s also studying to become a graphic designer for video games.

-He’s a generous person who is always seen with a huge dorky smile on his face. Taylor loves sports and has so much energy, he can hardly sit still sometimes. He’s also very chill and is not easy to anger or sadden at all, all qualities making him very popular around most of the people he meets. Secretly, he’s a hopeless romantic (or uh, just very romantic i guess since he did end up getting the guy and the girl?) that is practically obsessed with fairytales, rom coms, and Asian drama’s happy endings. He gets very flustered with actual romance though, and is one of the worst people in the world at flirting. A disaster bi is what you could describe him as. The only thing that keeps him calm while thinking of love is his extensive musical playlists, ones he has for every emotion he could possibly have.

-Taylor grew up in Flipline’s foster care system, periodically living with multiple families until finally staying with Chuck and his mother, Alessia. Having been raised by several indifferent strangers after his struggling parents, Taylor immediately grew close with his newfound family, even though Chuck was initially cold to him out of jealousy. The two have become the closest of friends, even calling each other brothers. After Alessia passed away in an accident during work, Chuck and Taylor have opted to stay together in the meantime. Chuck is thinking of moving to Calypso Island to be with Utah, much to Taylor’s dismay, but he’s still happy for his brother.

-After moving in with the Ferrara’s, Taylor met Cooper, an older boy who lived a few apartments down from them, and fell in love. He however didn’t have the guts to say anything until 6 years later, although he had been crushing on a certain blonde attending the same night college as him (Prudence, I should’ve just said Prudence). Chuck hyped him up one night to confess his love, only for Cooper to introduce his new coworker, Prudence, to him, causing Taylor to have a huge crisis since he fell in love with them both. Well it turns out everyone was in love with each other, so now they’re all together and they’re very happy.

-He competed on Flipline’s Got Talent as a solo act singer and a dance group member on two different seasons: the 23rd season when he was 15 and the 26th season when he was 18. Even though he’s talented in both song and dance, his acts have never gotten far in the competition, even though he is one of the more well known competitors. He doesn’t really care about winning, he just wants to show off his skills somewhere that wasn’t the street or on Tik Tok. He even made friends with lots of the other contestants (Scarlett and the Shakers, Timm, Cecelia, etc.) but not Bill and Booosy, absolutely not, just no.

-I think his voice would either be like Labrinth or The Weeknd. Maybe a mix of both?

-He watched reality shows and game shows all the time, mostly The Masked Singer, Jeopardy, Flipline’s Got Talent, and Dancing With The Stars. He also enjoys shows like Lovecraft Country, Once Upon A Time, Gossio Girl, and Friends. He just has certain media bookmarked depending on his mood and what type of season it is.

-Taylor loves to dance, but he will still sing I Don’t Dance from High School Musical 2 on the baseball field whenever he can. He’s memorized all of the choreography, lyrics, and even has the dang costumes.

-He actually doesn’t have many close friends. He gets along with lots of people and all the other workers, but he pretty much hangs out all the time with his besties Koilee and Willow as they bond over their family issues. Peggy’s another one of his besties and he’s also bro’s with Utah since she’s Chuck’s girlfriend, it Drakson and Carlo are sorta cold to him cause they’re kinda jerks. Anyways, he, Willow, and Koilee are an iconic trio with such different interests, but they’ll always do stupid shit and vibe with each other. Their outfits all clash due to their different styles (Koilee’s harajuku/decora kei/delinquent style, Willow’s gothic Lolita, and Taylor’s own athletic and baggy clothes), making them quite a spectacle walking down the street.

-He can’t hear anything most of the time cause he’s always listening to music or something on his phone, so he always almost dies in accidents he doesn’t notice or gets yelled at for not paying attention.

-All of his romantic gestures often go bad, like his heart shaped pancakes nearly burning down the kitchen. To make up for this, he writes Prudence and Cooper poems with Koilee’s help and leaves them in their bags. He’ll also do a my cosplay Cooper wants and will endure 15 hour shopping trips with Prudence. They’re just a wholesome couple I 🥺

-He and Chuck use each other as both weapons and human shields. Just imagine Soul Eater except instead of turning into a weapon, they just stay the way they are. Yeah Chuck hitting you with Taylor is not an ideal situation cause I bet it hurts.

-He often streams with Tohru. He’s into any game genre really, but he’s the best at retro games and sports games. He’s fine with playing Wadanohara, Among Us, Final Fantasy 7, Welcome To The Game, and other types of games too. He’s just the perfect gaming partner and he might even start his own channel since he’s so popular with Tohru’s fan base.

-When Chuck moves out, he’ll probably get a pet rabbit since Prudence and Cooper have pets and he won’t be left out. He might name it Batter and he’s very excited at the idea of having a floppy eared rabbit. He doesn’t realize that Chuck doesn’t mind having a rabbit around, but Taylor doesn’t inconveniencing anyone really.

-He mostly lacks common sense and has little ability to read the room, often getting him into sticky situations, which isn’t bad, but it’s inconvenient. Scooter crudely calls him a himbo and he knows what that means, so he’s started studying random trivia in order to seem smarter. Little does he know, we all love him either way.

-In a Papa’s Workers poll, he ranked 6th in popularity, after all 4 members of Scarlett and the Shakers and Carlo Romano.

-His pick up lines are really bad puns. Just go on tinder and wait for people to tell you pick up lines. Find the one that makes you want to cry the most and there’s Taylor.

-I simp over Taylor and I’m kinda ashamed of that, but yeah I do and can you blame me? He’s perfection Mr. Tony and Mr. Matt did an amazing job on him I am looking I am paying attention always have been ever since 2nd grade 👀

[lyricaldissonance]

Me: *does something to improve myself, is feeling optimistic*

My Brain: You're trash and it's cute you're trying to pretend to be likeable. These people are only being nice to you because they don't know how bad you suck yet. You're going to fuck this up the same way you ruin every good thing you've ever had, because you're a miserable failure who is only likeable when you're trying to act like you're a person capable of consistently maintaining competence and decency for any real length of time. And the reason why you can't is because you really aren't either of those things because otherwise it wouldn't take all of your effort just to be fucking normal and exist without constantly burdening everyone around you.

Mental illness is so cool, wow

But yeah, the reason why I avoid employment is because I'm lazy, not because I view it as a painful reminder of my inability to function in society unless I go so hard I break out in hives every day and lose the will to live even when my job isn't the hardest or most stressful and I still can barely pay my bills. Because apparently being a baseline functional person is so stressful that it takes everything I have, and that just further drives home the point that I'm weak and disgusting and useless and maybe people who find existing so hard shouldn't exist at all.

Hahahahahahahaha

I love my new job and everyone seems to genuinely like me but I'm so scared of fucking things up that it's like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I literally don't know how to not feel like an imposter. At least 70% of my stress could be relieved if I wasn't poor and in debt because of my own mania and impulsivity and unable to do anything about it or willing to ask for help because my mom gave me 3k and I still did this shit to myself AGAIN and I can't even tell you how or why, and I'm just so ashamed at this point that I can't ask for help and it's never going to get better. It's no one's fault but my own but I can't fix it and I've been treading water for years and I'm just tired. But I can't help myself because I can't ever repay someone else so I refuse to ask for outside assistance because I already live in a constant cycle of self-perpetuating guilt that feeling even more indebted to others isn't helpful.

Being "smart" fucking sucks unless you hit the nature/nurture lottery. Like wow, how cool it is I can write this little post exploring my diseased mental state, but it 0 percent helps me to feel better or enacts any kind of directly helpful changes, so self awareness can suck my dick. I'm just another someone with an emotionally toxic upbringing who grew into an emotionally stunted adult with a poor sense of self worth who may've won a junior high spelling bee once or written a story that other tasteless rubes liked. I'm not special and now I sure as hell never will be.

What is even the fucking point. Sometimes I wish I were suicidal or more of a moron who isn't regretting the egregiously offensive former half of this sentence. Intelligence is honestly a burden to me sometimes and it's so fucking sad because sometimes I really like myself and think I'm a good person but I'm not good at making money and I guess that's all that matters.

It's funny that my life went downhill after I tried to go to college. 5 years of savings evaporated before my eyes in a single semester of formal education that has yet to give me any material benefit in life, and all of the elders who blew sunshine up my "gifted" ass who told me higher education was my golden ticket shut the fuck up real fast, and also blamed everything on my lack of dedication.

I just feel robbed. And I'm "mature" enough to know that assigning blame won't solve anything. But I've had this destructive thought process/manner of coping with things for so long that, in the absence of any healthy reinforcement that no one owes me (and that I absolutely am too proud to ask for because, well, see aforementioned), I don't know how to proceed. I'm tired of compartmentalizing myself, but time and again, I've been shown that attempting to be seen is even more dangerous because you usually just make yourself vulnerable to people who then deliberately misunderstand you and try to make it your fault or act like you tricked them. As if pretending to be an untroubled, likeable person is a more malicious act than the messy atrocity that is your real personality that. . . Oh yeah, immediately just makes you "crazy" and even more unlikeable.

The one thing I learned from my childhood is that keeping the fragile peace was paramount, even if it was at the expense of denying the truth, because poking holes through someone else's carefully constructed reality was of more concern than the people who were hurt by their actions. Addict Stan 101, amirite? A family intervention was actually staged against me about how I should care less regarding my dad's drinking and the resulting emotional abuse because it was selfish to make it "all about me".

So now I view myself as the discarded piece of beach trash I was raised to. I guess everyone just assumes value is inherent, when you don't know to care about it until someone makes you aware based on their own biased set of metrics. I'm intelligence with no purpose, because my diseased brain and developmentally stunted ass couldn't hack the one advantage I was given to my own advantage. I'm literally a masturbatory fantasy.

All the people who raised me are flawed human beings with their own demons who really didn't mean it. But I can still be impotently mad. I didn't ask to be brought into this world.

Something was wrong with me. A really common, explainable thing, as it turns out. But of course, smart girls don't have problems. Mental illness is for parodical freaks tied up in straightjackets. There are starving kids in Africa. Do you really have it that bad?

So I learned to conflate my own personality and sense of self with my neurodivergence and now I'm 30 and I have such a tenuous sense of self-confidence that I literally just cosplay whatever version of me people like best from a capitalist perspective.

Haha jk. Sike, I'm a hyperemotional reactive and I will go off for everything, nothing, and all inbetween, even though I'm very chill and the things that set me off are on no one's radar. Just usually not in a way you can immortalize on TikTok. I used to apologize for having an emotional response, because I used to prize myself on being a robot, but as it turns out, I'm just a big stupid tsundere and no one cares how tough you look if the only person you're hurting is yourself.

I lost touch with the narrative.

Apparently I wrote this while wine drunk. Hm.

It's weird how suddenly I can turn to self loathing when I feel like things are getting better and I'm doing ok. I'm just starting to ignore things again and I don't want to let it spiral out of control again. I'm so feckless that I'm not sure how I manage to survive as an adult sometimes.

[see-arcane]

Trickery in Toyland: Green Meanie Classic

“Surprised to see me?”

“Not particularly. Your young hip selves can go through all the reinventions and redemptions in the multiverse, but the God of Evil always turns up somewhere.”

“Flatterer.”

“That and Scarlet Witch came with a Quicksilver and there was extra green paint laying around. Nice improvement on the villain brows by the way. Though those horns look a bit out of place. Since when do you go for coronets?”

“Since I found this place sadly lacking in tasteful gold helmets. Luckily, I found a generous donor to gift me their own horns.”

Earlier, elsewhere

“Usually I get a grace period of twenty seconds of interaction before someone decides to assault my person. It leads me to think I must know you from some prior harmless prank. A casual stabbing maybe?”

“Yes, stabbing, light tricks, and the magic of marketable immortality seem to be all you have in your arsenal. You’ve never had the opportunity to use them on me. Even so, you do know me, you teal-toned cinematic knockoff.”

“I am Loki, condensed. I am the God of Lies, of Mischief, of Evil, and of a hundred other facets of power that your pathetic sagas never dared graze. I am the fantastic nightmare of a reality you dreamt of being once. Back when there was a chance for you to be more than a simpering diet version of a deity. You, who sacrificed a surplus of chaotic arcane strength to play the eternal anti-villain. Antihero. Antipurpose. Anticharacter. Antigod. You are a watered down ghost of a sliver of my being, Loki Odinson. 

“As such, whatever there is of you, I have a right to collect. I would rather not sully myself with absorbing your limping moral codes and trifling illusions into me. For today, I only desire your coronet. You could just hand it over. Or you could do the stupid thing and make a chase of it. A game of keep-away to retain the only non-welded down horned tiara in this plastic realm.

“You could do that. You could fight. You could run. But I will win. I will catch you. And when I do? Well.

“Do you know what vivisection is? Victor von Doom and I taught a few gods the meaning once upon a time. So what will it b--

“Hel’s sake, I’ve been trying to hand it over since half a monologue ago, just take the damn thing.”

“And then he continued on his way to California, saying something about being too Disney-rich for my kind of nonsense. Good riddance. Now that it’s only we happy green-garbed few who actually live up to the status of godhood in the area, we can get to making some changes. I couldn’t help but notice we now have two thunder-headed brothers on our hands, which I find unacceptable. Loki is the only one in the family with the multiplication bit. I propose we start the day by flipping a coin to see which one dies and which lives to put up with us.”

“Loki, that’s terrible. Leaving a Thor’s life up to chance like that. If we have to pick, I say we keep Dark World Thor. He’s still dependent on his hammer and Ragnarok Thor has a lightning-powered Care Bear stare.”

“A fair point, Loki.”

“You’re both terrible. I say we keep both Thors. Well, I say we, I mean I. I’ll keep both Thors and you can both kill Jane Foster in her little thunder goddess cosplay. Also Sif. Just because.”

“I think we’re all overlooking a certain recently-acquired female addition to the place. With the reality-warping and resurrection powers and whatnot.”

“Yes, Loki, I’m aware we have the Phoenix and the Scarlet Witch to contend with. Along with a dozen other empowered cast members that aren’t appearing in-scene. With proper planning, they too can be--,”

“Not them, Loki. Her.”

“Her who?”

“Hi there.”

“A little magpie told me there was a mean green meeting taking place and I just had to see if I could get in on the membership. My friends here don’t quite match the dress code, sure, but I’m sure you can make some exceptions.”

“Don’t suppose you could give your ‘I am the Alpha Loki, fear me’ speech to that one, could you?”

“I have. King Loki did. Past Loki did. Jason Aaron did. They just do not go away.”

“Just like a proper Loki, then.”

“That hurts, Amora. I thought we were still frenemies after all this time. You even left me a gift.”

“What are you prattling abo--”

*poof*

“Ta-da! I found it waiting for me when I arrived. How did you know I always wanted a hula skirt?”

“It does look wonderful on you, sister.”

“Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

“You might start a trend.”

“...”

“Amora? You still with us?”

“Amora?”

“Someone phone ahead to Hela. Tell her to ready the dog bed she keeps for new Loki arrivals.”

Fin

[morfinwen]

Could you do the BrOTP ask for Lauren & Ian? And then I'm not sure what other sets of your characters qualifies as BrOTPs, but how about #3, 6, 13, 15, and 18 for any you want to answer for? Thank you! :)

Ian and Lauren

1. What in-jokes do they have with each other?

- Referring to ‘Frere Jacques’ as “the French National anthem”

- Calling all birds “penguins”

- Pointing to a bell or candle and yelling “CHRISTMAS!” (Ian’s the only one who does this one in public)

2. Are they the “I’ll pay this time if you pay next time”-type friends, or the “I’ll pay for my food and you’ll pay for yours”-type friends?

Usually they pay for their own food. Sometimes Ian forgets his wallet and Lauren covers for him, and there are days when Lauren is super out of sorts and Ian takes her out and insists on paying. It seems to even out.

3. Who’s more prone to pranking, or otherwise messing with, the other?

Lauren doesn’t prank or mess with Ian because that’s not the kind of person she is. Ian doesn’t prank or mess with Lauren because that’s just asking for trouble.

4. How do they text/message each other? Proper punctuation and capital letters, egregious overuse of emojis, mostly in meme format…?

Ian mostly uses correct spelling, but can’t be bothered with capitalization or most forms of punctuation (he’ll use the occasional ? or ! for clarity or emphasis, apostrophes are a toss-up). Sometimes he’ll use a single emoji as a response.

For Lauren, it’s all about speed. She abbreviates liberally, uses more acronyms than most people know exist, only uses punctuation for emphasis (!!! or ???), and hates emojis. She tolerates them from Ian because he uses them as an efficient replacement for a multiple word response, but even then it sometimes ticks her off to see one on her phone.

5. Do they exchange jokey birthday presents, or deeply thought-out and meaningful presents? Or both?

Lauren’s parents could never afford to get their children more than one or two gifts a year, and it was common for the presents to be homemade or secondhand. Ian’s parents preferred to do something for him on his birthday, like go see a movie or visit the museum, and give him one or two big presents plus a few smaller ones at Christmas. Both of them learned to manage their expectations regarding presents. Getting or giving a gift that indicates a great deal of thought and consideration from the giver would require either a change in perspective, or result in potential miscommunication.

They occasionally get each other gifts, closer to thoughtful than jokey, but putting a lot of thought into it might make things awkward. Mostly it’s gift certificates or music CDs they think the other might like.

6. They go on a road trip together. Who drives, who picks the music, who’s in charge of snacks?

Ian puts together a CD.

They both buy the kind of snacks they want.

Ian starts driving.

Lauren hears one too many songs she’s not in the mood for on his CD, and switches to the radio.

This trip, Ian promises himself, he will ration his Twinkies. One hour in, he’s eaten the whole box. It’s fine, they need to stop for directions anyway.

Lauren buys a new soda. She doesn’t want the one she has.

Ian starts driving again, but Lauren insists he’s misreading the directions they got, so she drives. 

Lauren gets sick of the radio, so Ian puts his CD back on.

Ian runs out of Twinkies again. Lauren lets him have one of her snacks - one that she can’t believe she brought, she doesn’t even like that kind.

They’re lost. Lauren only admits it 45-60 minutes after she first starts wondering if she missed the right turn.

Ian tries using the GPS to figure out which way to go, but either he’s using it wrong or it’s confused about where they are.

They stop for directions. Ian has to ask, because Lauren is too angry to be civil.

It’s time for lunch, so they stop.

Lauren is still too worked up over having gotten lost to drive, so Ian starts driving. He puts on his CD for only a few minutes before Lauren switches to the radio.

Twenty minutes later, he realizes he got on the wrong highway, and they’re backtracking. He tries to get off to turn around, but instead winds up on another highway headed in a totally different direction.

They get off, and Lauren insists on driving. She gets turned around, and now they’re heading in the opposite of that totally different direction. 

They pull over and argue over the map/GPS for several minutes. It’s about a half hour before Lauren calms down enough to get back in the car.

Ian drives with the radio off. Lauren sulks in the passenger seat. They finally get on the correct highway.

Forty minutes later, Ian misses his turn-off, but because they’re on a rural highway in the middle of nowhere, he doesn’t realize it. 

Two hours later, they both start wondering, weren’t they supposed to reach a city by now? After arguing with the GPS again, they decide to ask for directions once they stop for dinner.

There’s nowhere to stop. Lauren thinks they should turn around, Ian insists it’s better to keep going.

Thirty to forty minutes later, still nowhere. Ian starts to think they should turn around, Lauren argues that they already know there’s nothing back there, there’s got to be something closer ahead. Ian can’t really argue with this.

The first place they see to eat is Lauren’s least favorite dining chain, so they keep going.

They have to stop for gas, and while Lauren doesn’t like any of the places she sees, she’s too hungry and tired to argue. Ian is less hungry, having eaten all of the snacks, but still ready for dinner.

It’s dark now. When they get directions, Lauren is furious when she finds out this happened because Ian missed the turn-off hours ago. Ian lets her rant – he was driving, after all.

They stop for the night in a hotel that is at least half a state away from where they were supposed to stop for the night. 

The next day, they turn around and go home, because this whole road trip idea was a terrible one to begin with, and things are only going to get worse.

On the way back, they get turned around three times.

7. What do they think of each other’s family?

Ian gets along with some of Lauren’s siblings, and is civil to but avoids interaction with the others. He finds her parents intimidating, her mother moreso than her father, and is instinctively on his best behavior around them. Overall he likes them, or at least doesn’t dislike them, but frankly he finds spending time around them kind of exhausting. 

Lauren sometimes wishes her parents were more like Ian’s parents.

8. Do they have any nicknames for each other?

Nope.

9. Who’d be the first to try and patch things up if they had a fight?

Ian. It’s always Ian, even when it wasn’t really a fight, just Lauren blowing up over something. 

10. One of their phones goes off in the middle of the night. Who’s calling whom, and why?

The only time either of them would call the other in the middle of the night is in an emergency. Lauren is very good at having a regular, sensible bedtime that gives her a solid eight hours of sleep. Ian is less good at it, but doesn’t generally feel like making calls at midnight, and definitely knows better than to bother Lauren if he did. 

11. What’s their favorite funny story about something that happened to the two of them?

Probably something Ian did in grade school to poke fun at someone who was harassing Lauren. 

12. Would they do a joint cosplay? If so, who would they dress up as?

By coincidence, Ian went as Link for Halloween one year and Lauren went as Princess Zelda. They deliberately did it again in college.

13. Do they have any TV shows that they watch together? Are there any shows they have wildly different opinions on?

Lauren actually likes reality tv – ironically it’s easier to treat the drama less seriously because it’s pretending to be reality. She likes the occasional sitcom, as long as the characters are equally jerks and/or stupid. Ian can’t stand either of those. He likes dramas and speculative fiction (he grew up watching all the Star Trek shows with his dad).

I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer myself, but it seems like the kind of show they would be able to watch together: fantasy drama for Ian, funny/tongue-in-cheek enough for Lauren, though they definitely had different opinions on the characters and plotlines.

14. Which one is the “fight me” friend and which one is the one who tries to keep the peace and prevent their friend from punching a total stranger?

This question pretty much answers itself. 

15. One of them comes up with an ill-advised but mostly harmless idea. Does the other one egg them on because they think it’ll be funny, or try and talk them out of it?

Ian comes up with the occasional crazy-but-harmless idea. Lauren won’t egg him on, but if her half-hearted attempt to talk him out of it fails, she might stick around to see the outcome – as long as she’s far enough away no one mistakes her for being involved. 

16. Who would win if they arm-wrestled?

Growing up in the family she did, Lauren learned a lot of dirty tricks for arm-wrestling. Ian absolutely refuses to compete with her anymore, even if she insists she won’t use any of them.

17. Who’s better at what type of video games, and how competitive are they when they play together?

Ian is good with platformers and rhythm games. Lauren doesn’t really play video games. The only one they play together is Mario Kart, and Lauren is so nightmarishly competitive Ian just stays out of her way.

18. One of them ends up in hospital for something serious but not life-threatening. What does the other bring along when they visit in order to cheer them up?

Ian would bring Lauren a soft ball or something else she could throw or otherwise express her frustration physically upon, a CD of calm, meditative music, a kaleidoscope or glitter wand, and/or a coloring book of shapes or nature. 

Lauren would bring Ian a DVD set of a sci-fi show, most likely cheesy or low-quality because most sci-fi shows are and she doesn’t have the least idea how to judge them, a complete comic series, and/or a historical documentary. 

19. How huggy are they?

Ian isn’t a touchy kind of guy, and Lauren does not like being touched without permission, so not very.

20. What was the moment when they first realized that they’d become friends?

Ian pretty much decided they were friends from the first day he started harass – i mean following Lauren around in kindergarten. For Lauren, it was probably when Ian invited her to his birthday party and was clearly happy when she came – up until that point, she’d kind of assumed his parents made him invite her.

------

The situations in which the Quartet – Chris, Angie, Neal, and Reagan – interact are not numerous, but i’m going to answer this for them as a group anyway.

3. Who’s more prone to pranking, or otherwise messing with, the other?

Chris. He’s never intentionally mean or over-the-top, and never does anything that could hurt or get someone in trouble. 

On rare occasions, Reagan might pull something small, especially if she can keep her involvement secret.

6. They go on a road trip together. Who drives, who picks the music, who’s in charge of snacks?

Chris drives. He also has the map, the bathroom and meal breaks planned (both location and time), and the address of any hotels they’ll be staying at, as well as their room numbers. He has control issues, which he is open and honest about, but he’s still driving. If for some reason they’ve been driving long enough that it’s not safe anymore for him to drive, he will reluctantly hand it over; most likely to Reagan, since she’s got the next-highest tolerance for it.

Neal and Reagan put together CDs with different music. Neal because he’s good at balancing their tastes and is the most invested in what they’ll be listening to, Reagan because she’s usually got new music to introduce, and because she’s stronger-willed than Neal when it comes to telling Chris no, they are not including the entire soundtrack to every hit Broadway musical. No, not even most of them.

Everyone is responsible for bringing their own snacks, but Angie will always have extras in her bag – weirdly enough, usually ones that others meant to bring but forgot. She also has a good balance of healthy and sweet, in case one of the others (or rather, all of the others) were not as good at balancing and just brought candy -- or in Chris’ case, possibly just jalapeño-flavored chips.

13. Do they have any TV shows that they watch together? Are there any shows they have wildly different opinions on?

In the right moods, they can all watch the same show of any type  – discuss it seriously if it’s good, mock it if it’s bad. Otherwise, their tastes are way too disparate.

15. One of them comes up with an ill-advised but mostly harmless idea. Does the other one egg them on because they think it’ll be funny, or try and talk them out of it?

Chris sometimes comes up with ideas like that. He doesn’t need anyone to egg him on, but Reagan is the most likely to encourage him.

18. One of them ends up in hospital for something serious but not life-threatening. What does the other bring along when they visit in order to cheer them up?

Chris: Any length of time in bed would be so distracting as to nearly make him go mad, so even though he tries to hold himself back, he usually ends up overdoing it – an entire TV series on DVD (7+ seasons), plus some kind of handheld game, plus some kind of project (arts and crafts, mechanical, anything at all) that can be done while in bed, plus an ambient noise generator.

Reagan: Music, or an audiobook for Angie. For Chris, covers of classic or Broadway songs by new or obscure artists, with a few pop songs mixed in to keep him on his toes – if possible, she’ll find covers of those pop songs in a very different style, see how long it takes him to figure out he’s listening to a Latin choral version of “Call Me Maybe”. For Neal, long choral or classical pieces, and/or new age-style music. 

Neal: …. A balloon and a card, with a stuffed animal if it’s Angie or Reagan. He’s not very good at this.

Angie: Books. For Chris, either an action story or an exciting non-fiction book that reads like fiction, plus some Sudoku books or some other kind of puzzle book – the harder the better. For Reagan, either a fully-dramatized audiobook or something with more pictures than text – maybe a graphic novel, more likely something with pretty nature vistas or interesting architecture. For Neal, a book of poetry, plus a journal for getting his thoughts down.

Thanks for asking!

[violet-bookmark]

Princess of Dorsa, by Eliza Andrews, chapter 6

Chapter 5 was very unexciting and chapter 6 doesn't start off much better: Tasia herself is bored with her lesson and falling asleep. I do love the scenery's description, it is very immersive (it's ironic that I say this about a description that is supposed to arise boredom and sleepiness). Her creep of a teacher notices that she's falling asleep, so he quizzes her about the lesson. She replies way more diplomatically than usual, which is good because it makes her sound more calm and clever than when she just lashes out.

As she describes her creepy teacher, we get some lore from the Wise Men: they wear their hair like medieval monks. That's it. That's the lore.

Also apparently the house of Dorsa was founded by a barbarian who had a wizard brother that he killed, so I guess that's why there hasn't been any magic so far. The book did a great job at making the explanation sound as boring and uninteresting as Tasia found it, so I almost forgot about it. Then suddenly we get this:

"Your father told me earlier today that he intends to make you his true heir," Norix said. "You'll still have to marry, of course, but your father wants you to be the one with the power, not your husband."

I was mistaken, looks like she will have to marry anyways. I understand this in part, but not really. It would make sense for her to marry after they find out who tried to kill her, or at least can rule some possible suspects out. Otherwise they would not only anger the killer by naming her the heir, but also giving him the possibility of getting closer to her and murdering her for real.

Another thing to note is that Tasia's parents had few children for their time and station. I don't know if this is because her father is impotent, because her mother had poor health (which could be, except we don't have any idea of how she and Tasia's brother died) or if they had other babies that died, but it is a massive inconvenient. If House Dorsa is ruling a massive Empire, the more children they have to marry off to other houses, the better.

Her creepy teacher, Norix, proceeds to act all condescending and explain to her that normally, females can't inherit (as if she didn't know) but that given the circumstances, it is time to do a very special exception, despite the fact that Tasia hasn't either shown strong leadership skills nor an interest in the crown.

I am tired of "females can't inherit" being common law in fantasy: the Salic Law was responsible for women not being allowed to ascend to the throne and inherit titles or property for a big part of the medieval age (although it varied depending on the century, some countries didn't have this law while in others it was introduced a lot later, etc. So even realistic fiction authors should double-check their facts). Of couse, even without it, mysoginy was a reality that shaped women's lives in many ways. During the medieval age, women worked on the fields for as many hours as the men did, but in my country they only got the same pay as children purely because of their sex. But those circumstances and the Salic Law were not something unavoidable or that just had to happen, and it is tiring how a lot of medieval fantasy books just expect readers to accept settings where women don't have any power (except for a few exceptions) with no explanation. Sometimes they even have less power than real medieval women; a lot of authors seems to think that for some reason, lower class women never worked? Or did anything apart from having babies, staying in the kitchen or prostituting themselves, really (something that a lot of the time they are portrayed as enjoying, of course). Hell, even high-born women did a lot of remarkable things during the Middle Ages that the majority of people don't know about, either because the men in power didn't want them written in history or because they deemed them less important just because women did them.

But back to the point.

"And I happen to believe that your father's decision is rooted in wisdom. This might be the right time in history - and you might be the right princess in history - for a woman to rule again."

And I happen to disagree, but then again I am not a pervy old man with a monk's haircut, so you know, grain of salt.

Tasia's brow furrowed. She was the right princess to rule the Empire? Norix's sudden proclamation was more than out-of-context and unexpected; it was out-of-character. She was relatively certain that her tutor didn't even like her, let alone think her capable of ruling an entire empire.

Even Tasia thinks he's full of shit.

Norix informs her that they are interrogating the man that was trying to kill her (while cosplaying as a Wise man) but that they are having a hard time getting anything out of him because he can resist truth serum. I was fine with this until:

To resist the truth serum required years of careful, painstaking training. It required poisoning yourself with the serum on ever-increasing doses, tolerating months of sleepless nights and vomiting until one built up an immunity to it,

Wait wait wait, no. Months of sleepless nights? The longest recorded time a person has been without sleeping is 11 days. Not sleeping for days can have very damaging effects on the body; it can cause hallucinations, paranoia and psychosis, along with damage to the nervous system, poor movement coordination and devastating effects on a person's mental health and overall wellbeing. It even messes with your hormones and your entire internal clock, affecting hunger, body temperature, etc. It is rare to die because of lack of sleep but it happens, and I am sure that anybody would die after months of not sleeping, if they hadn't gone insane first.

Tasia reaches the conclusion that it's possible that the Wise Man that tried to kill her wasn't a cheap cosplayer but the real deal, since the means to train somebody to resist the truth serum are expensive. Which means that the one that wanted to kill her was a noble. We don't know exactly what Wise Men do because knowing about their hairdos was more important, but they seem to be teachers to the rich and the poor alike, as well as advisors to nobles. So far, none of them have proven to be master assassins, let alone to have good fighting skills. Why would they send one of them to kill her? No wonder he didn't get the job done. They could have trained a professional assassin to resist truth serum and just have him/her do the deed.

It's also stupid because Wise Men seem to be fairly publicly known as well, so that should make it easier to track down the killer. What makes it worse is that, if the assassin was indeed a Wise Man, he tried to murder her in his Wise Man uniform for everyone to recognize his status, which is extremely dumb.

Norix starts to ramble about how clever she is for having reached that conclussion (... It's not an impressive deduction, and it doesn't make Tasia look clever, but the book look dumb), and he points out that she has an ability to manipulate people, like the guards of Sunfall gate. When Tasia is like "wtf" he reminds her that everyone and their mother knows about Tasia's lovers. Which yeah, Tasia has mentioned before that everyone and their mother does, indeed, know about them. Why is she surprised when she already knows that everybody knows?

"You are many things, my dear girl. Imprudent, churlish, impulsive, mule-headed - these all describe you well. Still..." he said, almost as if to himself, "they are traits you can learn to temper, should you decide to. Traits you could use, even. As your father has. Statecraft, strategy, the right balance of daring and caution. These are things that I can teach you. But loyalty - aaah, loyalty cannot be taught. And the one thing I know you are not is a traitor."

This is... A weird way to phrase it. You could just say that she's a loyal person instead of being like "well, you definitely are not a traitor ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so you'll do". And so far, Tasia hasn't demonstrated any kind of loyalty to the Empire or to anyone else but herself, really. She has mentioned several times that she isn't bothered about politics, her lessons bore her to death and she puts 0 effort into them, and she hasn't thought once about the Empire apart from when the men urge her to (her father, Norix, Cole, etc.), and even then she hasn't had a single thought of her own about it. She hasn't been traitorous either, but she doesn't seem to care enough to be. She only comes across as a selfish brat. Not caring enough to go out of your way to hurt someone or somehing =/= loyalty. Honestly, the only reason that would make me believe that Norix supports her as a ruler is that he believes she will be easily manipulable since she doesn't give a shit, and then, as an advisor, he will be the one with all the power.

Now that I think about it, only the noblemen have ever worried about politics in this book. All the noblewomen we have seen so far are too worried about their lovers and their looks to spare a single thought about politics, despite the fact that they will be their husband's confidantes in the future and they should have notions of how things work to be able to give good advice and to be politically competent as noblewomen. This is not only sexist, it doesn't even make sense. Even Tasia’s mother seemed to be only interested in singing with her pretty exotic birds and was so damn unremarkable that Tasia outright tells us that everyone has pretty much forgotten about her. Not even Disney princesses are so damn politically useless. If the noblewomen in your "gritty" look-at-how-many-times-I-mention-sexual-assault-aren't-I-edgy-esque series fall short at the side of Disney princesses, you're doing something extremely wrong.

After talking about the fact that it was the Emperor's idea and not Norix's to name Tasia the official heir, she remembers how her dad was talking about some of the women that had become Empresses in their own right:

Empress Adela, the warrior-queen who'd saved the nascent Empire after a series of wars that had nearly destroyed it. Adela's father had only two daughters, and the younger one died before reaching adolescence. Rather than marrying Adela off and turning her husband into the heir, he named Adela the heir and never forced her into marriage.

But Tasia is still forced to get married? Why?

Tasia asks Norix why did he tell her before the Emperor could, and Norix says that he wanted Tasia to not be taken by surprise and to do something stupid in front of the Emperor. Great trust you have in her, dude. Somehow, Tasia doesn't take offense on that, which she should. She takes offense when Jos does as much as breathe near her, but Norix insults her to her face and it is A-okay? He's her teacher and everything, but still, she mentioned earlier that everyone should know their station. That he told her beforehand also bothers me because it will make the naming scene far less epic; now that Tasia knows it won't be as interesting or impressive, and far less dramatic.

Out of the blue, but why didn't her father remarry after her mother died? Unless he had a problem, the natural course of action in a society where the upper class needs heirs would be to remarry both for the babies and the extra power. This reinforces my theory about him being impotent. We are given no explanation whatsoever for a lot of things that we should know, so I will headcannon away. No cannon facts can stop me because they don't exist.

After Tasia finishes her lessons she starts to get nauseous because all the responsibility of being an Empress is hitting her at once. Joslyn tries to make her feel better:

"Princess... If it eases your burden any... I want you to know that no assassin will get near you again. Not while I remain in your service"

She is so kind and considerate, I love her.

"That eases my burden none," Tasia said. "I've known you for all of - what? Four hours on the clock? Five? And as you pointed out, the attempt on my life was only last night. Then you suddenly appear today? For all I know, you are my assassin's accomplice, weaseling your way into the palace to finish the job."

Why are you like this, Tasia? Okay, you're worried about the assassin, but throwing sudden accusations isn't going to help you. And since when you have suspected Joslyn of anything? This comes completely out of the blue. "That eases my burden none, I won't rest until I find the mastermind behind the assassin." Would have been a way better response while still coming across as angry and aloof. Her actual answer not only makes her come across as angry but as a total idiot as well.

[...] to the Princess's private apartments, at which point Joslyn slipped ahead of her and inspected all three chambers - the antechamber, Tasia's bedchamber, the servant's bedchamber. Tasia put on a show of the inspection being superfluous and unnecessary, but secretly she was glad for the guard's diligent caution.

If you are grateful for it, why did you put on a show and got mad? The only thing you will get doing this is that Joslyn will be less eager to inspect the rooms next time. Granted, she answers to the Emperor, but if you're telling her that the inspection doesn't need to be done, she might think twice about it next time. Why is the author doing this? This is not cute, this is not "banter, or "rivals to lovers" or whatever, this is just stupid and makes Tasia look immature.

Whatever it was, Tasia had to admit to herselt that she felt just a little bit safer as she crossed the treshold into her private chambers.

A shame that this won't stop you from being an asshole to Joslyn.

[sakuwriteshere]

The Winchesters and the Librarian: Chapter 1

Summary:  Two families, two different legacies but one common fate. Y/N Y/L/N, the newest and only Librarian met the Winchesters brothers during one of her quests. None of them knew that it was the beginning of a strange and awkward friendship. And maybe, even more than that.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester x Female Reader (friendship)

Warnings: None at the moment. Slight mention of violence but nothing graphic. In future chapters, possibly angst, violence, mention of blood, bad language and mayyyyybe smut (not sure about that one, yet)

Words count: 1743

A/N: So another series! I like slow burn and long stories so I can’t help! I thought it would be fun to write something about those two shows. I loved the Librarian TV show, and the humour in it and I think SPN could mix perfectly.

Anyway! I don’t know how long this series will be or even where it’s going but I had fun writing the first chapter! Hope you’ll like it too and feel free to share your ideas about future chapters.

English is not my native tongue and this is un-betated, so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Disclamer: I do NOT own Supernatural / The Librarian or any character of the shows which are the CW company properties. This work is for free entertainment only.

A/N: Not my gif

Chapter 1 : The Bleeding Crown of the Vampire Queen of Northampto

Run. Run for your life. That’s what they said. And it was true. You’ve been running for a while now, how long exactly, you didn’t know, but the aching feeling in your muscles was a good hint and your whole body was screaming at you to stop.

You’ve been in a pretty good physique condition because of your work. Sometimes you had to fight or run to achieve what you’re supposed to. Well, tonight, it seemed like you had to run. You had discovered that Vampires really existed, and they were pretty strong for some kind of undead people. They were strong and persistent, exactly the reason why you were running. Next time, you’ll think twice before trespassing into their nest.

A weak smile appeared on your face as the little motel you were staying at came into view. In a few seconds you would be safe. Just hang on a bit more, Y/N!

You crashed against your room door and fumbled with your keys. You looked back, looking for any monster and readjusted your bag’s strap on your shoulder. You entered your room and closed the door right behind you, your back pressed against the door and you could finally let out a big, shuddering breath. You needed a second to recover. You knew they were coming but you needed just one, freaking second.

You let out a disgusting yell as someone, or something, banged against your door, the wooden plank trembling behind the force on it. Without wasting anymore second, you jumped on the other side of your bed, searching for the weapons you had gathered. A girl needs to be prepared. And even though, you just discovered that vampires did exist one hour ago, you brought with you some tools that were going to be handy.

As the door broke into pieces you turned around and faced the two vampires that entered your room. The grip around the wooden stake tightened and you took a deep breath as you lifted your other hand in front of you.

The monsters looked dumbfounded at the crucifix you were holding, then snickered.

“Step back!” You ordered them, brandishing the crucifix once again.

You saw one of them stepping closer and you swallowed hard.

“Really?” He asked as his foot bumped into a garlic chain that you have set up as a trap.

“Oh God.” You murmured as you saw his fangs.

Nothing was working. The garlic? Fail. The Crucifix? They weren’t scared of it. There was only one last weapon in your hand.

“That toothpick won’t do anything, darlin’” The other vampire chuckled as he came closer too.

Why nothing was working? You’ve read the lore, well not really, you should have read it but you thought that vampires didn’t exist before tonight so why would you bother? If you came out of this alive you knew Jenkins was going to kill you for your incompetence.

As the nearest one was going to jump on you, you turned your back slightly, adopting a defensive stance and shielded your face with your forearms, the stake still in your hand.

You heard a cutting sound then something falling heavily on the carpeted floor. With your eyes still closed you waited for the deadly hit but nothing came. After a few seconds you cracked an eye open and noticed that the vampires were gone. Well, they were more laying on the floor, in the middle of a pool of blood and beheaded.

“What the…” You whispered, tilting your head on the side.

“You alright?” Someone asked you and finally you lifted your face and noticed the two men inside your room.

They didn’t look like vampires. They were wearing some plaid shirts and jeans, and more importantly they had a machete, covered in blood, in their hands. Their faces weren’t as pale as the creatures you’ve met before. The one who asked about your wellbeing, had shaggy long hair, a pair of captivating hazel eyes and a handsome face.

“I…” You trailed, too captivated by this enigmatic tall, strong man.

“Garlic? Really?” Another voice said from the corner of the room. If the first man was handsome, there was no word in your vocabulary to describe the other one. He was a tad smaller than the first one, even though he was still taller than you, had short dirty blond hair and the most amazing pair of green eyes that you’ve ever seen.

“And look at that,” the smallest one chuckled as he hit the other guy’s forearm. “A crucifix and a pair of wooden stakes! What are you? Buffy, the Vampires’ slayer?” He was the only one laughing.

“I,” you struggled to speak. You licked your dry lips and blinked a few times before the reality punched you right in the face. “This isn’t funny! Those are vampires and-”

“Oh we know, thank you very much!” He said angrily.

“Dean!” The tallest one hissed, stopping his friend to say more.

First impression always gave a good hint about a person. And right now, you knew you didn’t like this Dean. He seemed so full of himself.

“Whatever.” You sighed as you grabbed your bag and started to collect the rest of your stuff all around the room. “There’s others and it’s better if we leave before they come here.”

“We took care of the rest of the nest. Calm down, Buffy.” Dean said as he swiped the blood on his blade with the corner of his plaid shirt.

Just like you thought. So full of himself!

“Stop calling me, Buffy!” You grunted as you knelt and tried to reach the pair of pants that somewhat rolled under the bed.

“Yeah, whatever. You’re welcome by the way. Come on, Sam.” Dean shrugged before motioning the other man to follow him as he headed for the exit.

“Wait, wait a second.” Sam stopped him and came closer, crouching next to you.

You came from under the bed and huffed, pushing a strand of hair that fell in front of your eyes and nearly squeaked at Sam’s proximity.

“Why were you into the nest?” Dean nodded, he wouldn’t admit it but he was a bit curious as well. They had seen you entering the mansion the vampires were hiding in. And since you had come out without a biting mark, you weren’t just a regular civilian. Maybe just a crazy Buffy-wannabe.

The question made you smile proudly. You grabbed the bag that laid on your bed and checked at what was inside. “I needed to collect something.” You said as you pulled something from inside your bag.

You showed Sam the beautiful golden crown. It wasn’t big, just the size of a tiara, with three little pointy ends on the top. In the middle of the crown there was a big red ruby, as red as the blood you saw earlier.

“A freaking crown?” Dean asked, bewildered. You had risked your life and theirs, for a stupid piece of jewelry?

Your nose scrunched up at Dean’s insult and you put the crown back into the safety of your bag.

“This isn’t just a crown! This is the Bleeding Crown of the Vampire Queen of Northampto.”

“Not-a-what?” Dean asked, his hands resting on his hips, and licking his lips as he tried to understand what you were saying.

“Northampto.” You repeated easily. “This is a very old artefact. It seems like it has some powers, like robing the youth and keeping its owner young and strong forever.” You added.

“This explains why the vics looked so old.” Sam whispered into Dean’s ear. “Are- are you a hunter?” He asked as he turned towards you.

“A hunter? Come on Sam! She’s barely pulling out her Buffy’s cosplay!” Dean scoffed, waving an arm in your direction.

“Stop calling me Buffy! My name is Y/N!” You said through greeted teeth, your hands turned into fists.

“I can call you whatever I want, and I think Buffy, pretty suits you.” Dean forced a smile, he was acting so childish! “She must be a thief, like that Bella chick.”

You narrowed your eyes at that pompous-handsome-but-I-wanna-punch-you-in-the-face bastard when you heard him insulting you again.

“I’m not a thief!” You scoffed, and you blew some air to push back the strand that fell in front of your eyes again. “I’m a librarian!” You announced proudly, your chin high in the air and your back straight.

The two men looked at you with a stupid look. The three of you fell silent and the awkward tension was quickly filling the room.

“Your kind of librarian or my kind?” Dean asked softly as he bend towards Sam.

“She’s wearing clothes. Definitely not your kind.” Sam whispered back, still looking at you but glancing at his friend, nonetheless.

You rolled your eyes and let out a frustrated groan as you started to collect your belongings again. As you pilled up several books that were on the bedside table, Dean smirked and hit Sam’s chest.

“Too many books. She’s your kind.”

Sam gave him his best bitchy face before walking closer.

“Listen, I think we started on the wrong foot. I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean.”

You turned around and faced Sam, the pile of book getting heavier with each second that passed and you looked at the hand Sam was holding in front of you. You struggled but managed to shake his hand, anyway.

“Listen,” you said as Sam took the books from your hands, smiling at him for the help. “Thank you very much for earlier. I don’t like violence, but I appreciate your help. Really. I have to go and put this artefact in a safe place, where nobody could use it.”

You explained as you collected the remaining stuff. Once everything was packed, you took your bags and headed for the door. You watched the two dead bodies and stepped carefully over them and closed your eyes as you saw the broken door. Jenkins was so going to kill you for that. ‘Be smart and discreet’ he said, you were sure you would hear about it for a long, long time.

“Thanks again, boys.” You waved and exited the room, heading for your car.

“Take care, Y/N.” Sam waved back even though you couldn’t see him.

“Yeah and avoid the vampires, Buffy!” Dean shouted, a shit eating grin at the corner of his lips once he saw you tripped on your foot.

~~~~~~~~~

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