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#because it's kinda hard to see the mechanisms when you've never had a look behind the curtain?)
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#I am so tired of people not being able to wrap their head around how dramaturgy works#I am so tired of people jumping to extreme conclusions#as someone who is becoming more and more involved in actually learning how writing in tv and movies works#I am so fucking tired of people mixing fanfic style structure and dramaturgy with original narratives#also I would give a kidney for people to stop judging media through the shipping lense#shipping centric fanfic has done so much damage to the way y'all interact with stories it's unsettling#there's reasons why fanfic is fanfic and original media is not. both are valid both have their niche to exist in#but they do not play by the same rules. that's why they're different from one another#(yeah this is about stranger things but it's not the only instance. this is something that happens more and more and it sucks)#(it makes me furious how many important aspects of storytelling are completely disregarded in fandom discussions)#(a lot of it might be because people don't know?#because it's kinda hard to see the mechanisms when you've never had a look behind the curtain?)#(but that doesn't make it any less frustrating)#(you guys are so hell bent on hating on creators it's terrifying. like do you not realize 'don't put people on pedestals' applies here)#(do content creators make stupid decisions? hell yes! is there some truly awful media out there? definitely!)#(is some of it really harmful? of fucking course!)#(but still these are people writing that and you need to consider not everyone has your brain)#(not everyone comes from the same mental map as you)#(also nothing will ever hold up to the flawless interpretation you have in your head. that's just not how it works)#(and it never will be)#(learn how to critically engage with media you like. that also means considering other nuances you didn't see)#(or didn't want to see)#(you have absolutely every right to be upset and angry and disappointed and all that)#(and of course you should point out dubious choices or tendencies)#(but if media is going to hold any kind of enjoyment for you)#(ESPECIALLY sequels)#(you need to also give benefit of the doubt. suspension of disbelief. 'not what I imagined but Imma read a fix it' mindset)#(especially if the thing you're criticizing /is not finished/)#(almost all of those 'plot hole / everything wrong with' posts about st vol 2 are so so easily rebuffed)#(shit I've run out of tags. whatever I guess you get my point. hopefully)
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happysadyoyo · 8 months
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I wrote this last night but I still kinda want these to have their own posts. No writings tonight; my head aches from irl stress.
@pillowspace
It's... after.
You had funny little names for the loops before, jokes for yourself to deal with the ever increasing dread that you would never figure out the trick to get out of them. You don't name this one. The creeping dread you feel when you remember is enough.
You almost don't go that first day. You love them, you know them, you know that couldn't be their default, and it's only the bright, fragmented memories of that first meeting that drags you out of bed and getting there nearly an hour late. No one really cares that you're late. You're a warm body, and that's all Fazbear Entertainment cares about.
It's easier when the kids are around and awake. You don't think Sun notices you avoiding them, avoiding the dark spaces where he might change. Avoiding those long, delicate, powerful fingers that make your throat close up without ever touching you. Despite the lack of bruises you're driven to wear turtlenecks, close fitting layers that can't be grabbed. You think about trying to get in shape but what's the point? It'll just reset.
You'll just reset.
He had warned you, you reason with yourself during naptime. You're hiding behind the security desk. It's still early, Moon is still allowed to come out if you're there, and he's checking the children. You are pretending to be on your phone, but you are uncomfortably aware of where he is at all times. But you must've dozed off, just for a moment, because there's a sudden tug on your hat as it catches on your hair. You open your eyes and recoil.
They're not supposed to be able to reach you back here.
Moon doesn't know how to react when you move out of pure panic, shoving away from the security desk, the chair catching on some phantom nothingness so it falls over backwards and none too gently tips you out. You crawl back, against the wall, staring at Moon as your heart beats rabbit fast, and it's panic, panic, panic, cold and hot and you need to run.
"It was a joke," Moon says, and he puts down your hat and backs away, hands up. Long, delicate fingers, made for storytelling and puppets and changing soiled clothes.
Your throat hurts. You close your eyes and cover your face with your hands, willing the panic to go away.
---
It's after.
You're sitting in your bedroom. The curtains and blinds are open, letting sunlight pour over you and the nest you've created of blankets and pillows in the middle of your bed. There's mugs on the nightstand with your phone and a small day by day paper calendar, the days past torn and crumpled and scattered on the floor. You don't have your hearing aid in. You've barely left bed since the loops broke.
Sun enters, and if you were yourself, you might've laughed. He looked silly, wearing an oversized shirt with a photorealistic kitten on it and his striped jester pants. He's carrying a new mug, and you can smell the tea, chamomile and cinnamon maybe. He offers it to you and you take it mechanically, sipping and scalding your lips and tongue. You feel the heat sliding into your belly, but there's no taste.
Sun sits next to you, the bed shifting, gravity drawing you into them. They weren't built for this world, of human sized rooms and doors, and already there were little scrapes and scars in the ceilings and trim from Sun's rays when he would move without thinking. It wasn't the daycare anymore, and he looked as out of place here as you had felt over and over again.
It's hard not to flinch when he reaches out to you, and you can see it hurt him, hand held midair before it lowers to his lap to fidget. You ought to comfort him, but it's hard to move. Like you're swimming through molasses.
We're sorry. Sun is signing. The one good thing about the loops was you'd finally learned more sign language beyond fingerspelling or hello. Of course they were fluent. We've been remembering and the times we, Moon...
You don't let him say it. You grab at his hands, squeezing them, movements clumsy as you stretch and overexert yourself. You're off balance, painfully stretched, but they catch you, adjust you until you're in their lap, a hand between your shoulder blades, the other held in your own small hands against your chest.
His fingers rest mere inches from your throat and there's still a dull panic, somewhere deep, deep down when you still felt things beyond exhaustion and whatever it'd been driving you forward. But mostly there's comfort. These hands that'd taken care of children, that'd killed you who knows how many times... now they held you so gently, bringing you close to their chest where you can listen to the quiet hum of their mechanics, closing your eyes as fingers curl around your hands.
The sun shines through the window and Sun cradles you in his arms and you know you're safe, you know those hands will protect you until you come back to them.
You'll come back to them. You will.
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ikeromantic · 1 year
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Hiiii, sorry to bug you but can you do a Mozart x f reader angst where MC has pretty low self esteem, but has SUPER bad coping mechanisms and Mozart tries to get MC help but she's very stubborn about not getting it, kinda like Tracy and Mel in thirteen. (if you've seen it ofc) Have a great rest of your day/night😁
I have not seen Thirteen (Reasons Why)! But it is on my watch list ^_^ I have to carefully measure out how much drama and angst I take in or it will eat up my writing! Approx. 1100 words of hurt, self harm, and comfort.
Mozart saw the changes in her as if he were reading notes on a page. The self-deprecating twist to her lips, the way she began avoiding everyone when she wasn’t working. Avoiding him. At first, he tried to pretend not to care. When she brought him his meals in the music room, he gave her exactly what she gave him.
Disinterest. 
They sparred with cruel words and cold looks, and every encounter left Mozart’s heart bruised. He did not understand what he’d done wrong. They’d been growing close - close enough that he held her hand. Shared a glass of wine. Told each other secrets never shared with another. And then after one recital at a noble estate, she’d gone dark on him. Dark and distant as a new moon. 
He remembered the night, if only because he’d found her in the gardens, crying. And she wouldn’t say why. He’d been surprised at her reticence then. Now, he felt it was the first shiver of this shift into a woman he felt he barely knew. There were only sparse moments, unguarded, when he could see his darling looking out her hooded eyes. 
Mozart wanted more than anything to bridge the gap between them. To understand why she was so angry, and what pain lay under that rage. He made a plan, as carefully as he drafted his compositions. The chorus was simple - ask and learn what lurked in her shadowed heart. But the melody . . . what note to begin? What key? What tempo?
He waited until she was in her room one evening, and fetched a few of her favorite things. Tea with a dollop of honey. Ginger cookies. A strawberry candy. Then he made his way there, tray in hand. Mozart considered knocking, but she might tell him to go away. That would ruin the whole plan. So he quietly opened the door, thankful it was unlocked. 
The sight within froze him midstep. She sat crosslegged on the floor in front of a candle. Her forearm was held above the hungry flame, blistering her flesh in a scarlet welt. Worse was her expression. Pained, of course, because the fire burned. But satisfied. As if she deserved what she gave herself. And disgust, a hatred for her own weakness.
Mozart recognized it, because he felt something akin to it as well. In his endless disappointments, his pathetic fears, his failures. He dropped the tray and lurched toward her, unsure what he would do but feeling he must do something. The door swung shut behind him, the tea spilled across the carpet, and the treats scattered over the floor.
She looked up, her face going slack with surprise. “What-” Her words cut short as he extinguished the candle and kicked it out of the way. Despite his smallish frame, Mozart had the strength of a vampire. And he used it now to haul her to her feet and into his arms. 
He did not realize he was crying. Nor did he see her face crumple at this sudden, unexpected embrace. “What are you doing, meine liebe? Your arm!” He gently touched the length of it, running his fingertips over half-healed burns and the scabs of old cuts. 
His words seemed to remind her that she should be angry at his invasion. She struggled to push him away, slapping at his chest and hands. “Let me go! What the fuck, Wolf?”
“No,” he replied, his voice soft but full of an inner steel. 
She slapped him. Hard. For a moment, Mozart saw white, nothing but an explosion of pain as his jaw slipped out of true, straining the tendons and ligaments in his neck and face. If he were a normal man, it would have broken. He’d have a bruise. But his flesh set to repairing itself almost as soon as the injury took place. 
He did not let go. “Meine engel, stop fighting me. Tell me what this is? What have you done? Why . . .” He jerked her arm straight, displaying the injuries for them both. 
“Why do you care,” she spat. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, hot and angry. She pushed against him again. “Just - just let go, damn it! Get out!” The last word was more a howl than language, the sound of a soul in agony. 
Mozart could no more let go than he could cut off his own arm. He pulled her close instead, enduring the scrape of her sharp little nails, the hardness of her elbows and knees. She fought him with everything she had, until she exhausted herself and there were only tears left. 
When she collapsed against him in defeat, he held her. Silent but for her crying. What could he say? He did not know what words could set this right. Could not understand what drove her to this - this mutilation of her precious flesh. The harm to her body and soul, both of which he had come to love so much. 
“Just leave.” Her voice shook, tired and full to the brim with emotion. 
“I won’t. I can’t.” He pressed his forehead to her cheek, frustrated.
“Why not? Wh-why?” 
Mozart swallowed his own pride, his fear of rejection, and replied. “I love you. You are so - so very precious to me.” He kissed her cheek. The line of her jaw. The crook of her neck. “I love you so much I am mad with it. I’ve missed you so, these last weeks.”
“You don’t.” She turned her face from him. “You - you love music. I’m just . . . stupid. Useless. Pathetic.” Her hands clenched, white-knuckled, driving her nails into her palms. 
He lifted the fist to his lips and kissed each finger, slowly prying them loose until he could see her palm. Scored with little angry red crescents. He kissed those too. “You are none of those things. You are so strong, to come here and make a life for yourself. Far from everything you know. So smart, to learn so many new skills . . . my sweet. Meine liebling. Meine perle.”  
She gave a snort of disgust, pain still bright in her eyes. “I distract you. You’re b-better off -”
Mozart put a finger to her lips. “No. Never. I did not realize I was missing something, until you.”
Her eyes searched his face, hope and uncertainty wedded in that gaze. After a long silent moment, she laid her head on his shoulder and clung to him. 
There was nothing for him to do but hold her, and so he did. He sat with her on his lap, stroking her back in careful circles. He spoke too, words of love, endearments from his heart. Things he had never been able to speak until this night, until he realized how close he’d come to losing her to herself.
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button-mash · 1 year
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What I played last week #6
Metroid Prime [Nintendo Switch]
I have a lot of nostalgia for Prime, and outside of making FPS platforming actively satisfying, I think it's biggest achievement is that it does what Mario 64 and Ocarina of Time managed where it took a game firmly rooted in it's 2D identity and transitioned it into 3D whilst still making it feel the same at its core. However, I think as an actual metroidvania, its a bit lacking. The opening few hours are pretty great - it weaves that web all the best games in the genre do where it slowly reveals an intricately designed area that subtly guides you around where you need to go next without ever feeling linear. After a while though (around the Magmoor Caverns area), it starts to lose its way a bit - it starts to become really vague, and the map is so spawling and confusing that it starts to become harder to track where you are in a way that the 2D games don't feel as confusing. Once you get past that section, it then has a massive stretch where it's actually kinda linear and combat heavy, befor having a solid final section again.
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When it clicks it really clicks, and it's incredible how good a job they did bringing the game into a 3D setting. There are little touches like seeing Samus' face reflecting back in the visor after an explosion, or like steam from the jungle fogging up the vents that seemed mind-blowingly immersive and atmospheric at the time and they're still really effective even now. They've just done such a good job of brining all of the visually iconic enemies and items into a 3D format, and hearing the rearranged music is such a powerful nostalgia burst, especially the stuff they've taken from Metroid/Super Metroid
The game isn't without it's flaws though, and I definitely think this is one of those games where it's become such a beloved fixture in gaming and was so revalatory at the time that people just seem to completely look past it's issues and it's just been cemented as some sort of perfect game. I think one of it's main troubles is that it doesn't do a good enough job of working in it's mechanics and teaching you to use them - you can easily get caught in a loop of backtracking around because you're forgetting to religiously scan a room so you'll miss a switch, or forget to use a certain vision because you've not had to for the last 4 hours, etc. The move to 3D just makes it a bit more visually muddled sometimes where it's just easy to miss things. Such a Nintendo thing as well where there doesn't seem to be any in-game brightness settings and some areas are so dark it's hard to properly see. Also a lot of it's required backtracking is the worst kind where it'll send you all the way back and forth from one end of the map to the other, etc.
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Also to get to the very end of the game you have to collect these 12 artefacts hidden around the game world. Some you might find from naturally exploring, but some are actually extremely well hidden, and the game only gives you a relatively vague clue as to the location of each one. They're not impossible to find by any means, but some of them are tucked away behind puzzles or tricks usually reserved for a game's most tucked away side-secrets, and I can see plenty of people simply getting to the end, not having all of the Artefacts and just having no real idea what do to or where to go without looking up a guide. Obviously Metroidvanias are focused around exporation and backtracking, but I think Prime gets a pretty soft go of things for how obtuse it can be to be honest.
It also has a few moments people always seem to completely ignore in beloved games, where it's just objectively bad design that doesn't respect the players time. The very last boss is a good example, which is a potentially tricky, multi stage boss that is a long fight even if you speed through it - basically I can see a few people needing multiple attempts to beat it if they've never done it before. Yet to get to the boss from the save point, you have to do a relatively time consuming platforming section with some strong enemies that can knock a decent amount of your health off if you get unlucky - it's just a stupid thing to have before a final big fight imo. You see a lot of games really bin the pacing of the game with the final few encounters, but peple always seem to overlook it, and I don't think Metroid Prime is an exception, even if Meta Ridley is very cool 
As a remaster this game is incredible. It looks beautiful and runs really well, and the dual stick controls were really the main thing it needed to update it and bring it into the modern world. It's a testament to the original art design and Gamecube performance that I felt like the game looked barely any different to the original until I saw them side by side - it shows not only how good and memorable the original was, but also how much a good art style and world design can shine with a new lick of paint without losing any of it's identity or style.
I absolutely love it and I think it's a really influential and important game in a lot of ways, but as an actual Metroidvania I actually think it's pretty average, and that's from someone with a lot of affection for it and can remember a lot of roughly what to do/where to go. The game is incredible for something that came out almost 20 years ago, but there are plenty of bits of 20 year old game design I feel like a lot of people just don't want to accept isn't actually that great. Still well worth a play for anybody interested in the genre in my opinion
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bbyheedeungie · 3 years
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Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU
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Genre: Fluff, mild angst
Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader
Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content
Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?
It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.
You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.
But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.
He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.
And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.
He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.
"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."
You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.
"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.
You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.
You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.
"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.
You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.
"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.
"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.
"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.
You contemplated, biting your lip.
"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.
"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.
"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.
"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.
And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.
This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.
"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."
You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.
"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.
"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.
And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.
"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.
"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.
"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?
"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.
"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."
You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.
"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.
"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.
"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.
"Great. People won't suspect a thing."
The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.
What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.
You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.
"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.
"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.
"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.
"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.
"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.
"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.
"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.
"I'm S—"
"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.
"I am Y/N's—"
"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.
"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.
"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.
"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.
"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.
You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.
You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.
"What?" You asked.
"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.
"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.
He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.
"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.
The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.
It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.
"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.
"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.
"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.
"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.
"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.
"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.
"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.
"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.
"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.
"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.
That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.
"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.
"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.
"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.
Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.
And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.
"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.
"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.
"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.
"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.
"Then we'll learn together." He promises.
What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.
People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.
"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.
"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.
"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.
That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.
"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.
"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.
"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.
"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.
--
"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.
"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.
"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.
But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.
"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.
"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.
Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.
Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.
Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.
Stunning, beautiful. He thought.
"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.
"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.
"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.
His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.
"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.
"Home?" You suggested.
"Home." He agrees.
As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.
And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.
"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.
Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.
He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.
Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.
This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.
"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.
844 notes · View notes
themoonmunchkin · 3 years
Text
Don't look!
Pairing : Bakugo katsuki x gn!reader, Midoriya Izuku x gn!reader, Todoroki Shoto x gn!reader.
Genre : fluff
Warnings : insecure reader, cussing, savage deku?, kinda angsty but overall super fluffy ^3^
Synopsis : you're insecure about your side profile but they're having none of it.
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Not gonna lie, he probably wouldn't even have known that this was an insecurity that people had.
So when you first start dating he wouldn't think much of it when you cover your nose while laughing or when you contour your jawline extra hard.
Until one day you start letting your thoughts get to you again, you think about how everyone around you have such a beautiful side profile.
You start wondering why Katsuki even bothers to be with someone as "ugly" as yourself, I mean has he seen his face.
But anyways you start distancing yourself from the world again, start hiding your face with your hair, have mental break downs in the night, refuse to take pictures and completely shut him out while thinking you're being subtle.
But no, no, no- my mans noticed...and he's currently having a full blown panic attack on the inside.
He's really worried at this point and starts thinking about what he's done wrong, he tries to talk to you but you're always making excuses and running away from him.
Now, he's had enough and so he quite literally barges into your dorm room and demands an explanation as he keeps shouting at you until....
.....he takes in your tear stained face with fresh tears forming at the corner of your eyes.
You were seated on the floor with a hand mirror clutched to your chest, the same one that you use to point out all your insecurities in, your phone is on the ground next to you with a picture of a model, her perfect side profile on display...the same one that you always compare yourself to.
Cue in a confused, angry and sad boom boom boy 😔.
Who the fuck had the audacity to make his baby cry hmm 🤬.
But then his anger vanishes just as it comes and before you knew it, he's shut the door behind him, quickly walks upto you, swoops you into his arms and cradles you in his lap.
"Ssshhh....its ok baby, I'm right here". Bakugo softly coos in your ear while running his fingers through your hair and letting his other hand rub your back. "Talk to me honey, what's wrong?"
You pull back a little and look up at him into his pain filled eyes that still hold so much love for you and that's when you tell him everything.
You tell him about how you've always hated your nose, how you've always wished you'd had a more chiseled jawline, how you've been bullied about your side profile by your peers and how you've never felt good enough.
He still doesn't get it because you're genuinely the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on, but understands how this is something that seriously bothers you and so he's gonna do everything in his powers to yeet those insecurities out.
Now Bakugo isn't one to lie or sugarcoat something, but he's also not someone who'll let you sit and hurt yourself like that.
He takes a deep breath, cups your cheeks in his hands and looks at you with the most earnest look on his face.
"Listen here baby, you're right maybe you don't have the most chiseled jawline or the sharpest nose out there-"
You winced at that a little but he was quick to speak again.
"I'm not done yet-" he closes his eyes and thinks for a second, words have never been his thing as he's someone who prefers actions instead but right now you needed more than just a kiss or a hug, you needed security and reassurance, so he takes in another deep breath and opens his eyes to look at you again.
"-just because you don't have those doesn't mean you're any less beautiful." He said with a smile as you curiously looked at him. You looked so damn cute to him all he wanted to do was pounce on you right then and there, but he held himself back for your sake and the next things he said made you fall in love with him even more.
"What you have suits your gorgeous fucking face, you don't have to change for any stupid extra and no one's opinion, not even yours is going to make me view you any differently or make me love you any less." He leaned in and gave you a chaste kiss on your lips that pretty much took your breath away and then he pulled back with a cute blush on his face.
"So from now on only listen to me okay and no matter what-" he kisses you again and pulls back a second time "-I will make you look at yourself the way I and so many other people look at you".
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Now he's had his fair share of insecurities and he's had a lot of people call him "plain looking" (which I still don't understand how when he's got some of the rarest and most beautiful features) even then those words about his looks have never really got to him.
But when it comes to you, he immediately knows something's up with all those self-deprecating jokes you apparently find to be funny.
Doesn't question you cause he doesn't want to scare you away, also because he trusts you to come to him if something is wrong.
But alas you and your stubborn ass refused to seek help from anyone and instead you chose to cope with yourself by putting yourself down in the form of those awful "jokes".
You've always tried to get yourself to stop this, but it soon became more than a coping mechanism, it was the only way you could hold yourself up without wanting breaking into peices.
That was dangerous.
But it's ok! It's still all fine and dandy until one day everything changes and you realise that all that self-deprecation didn't do shit.
Its Sunday today and you and your boyfriend Izuku have been walking around the shopping plaza for a while now.
The two of you were on a date, but you were also on a hunt for the new all might merch that your boyfriend has been fangirling about since forever. So far there was no luck on your end but y'all weren't about to give up just yet.
"OMG! I think I see it in there!" Izuku squeals cutely while pointing at what looks like a moderately big comic store that had an emo cyber punk looking aesthetic to it.
*Gasp*..."OMG! I think I see it too!! Let's go!!" and with that you grabbed his hand and were dragging your blushy stuttering mess of a boyfriend towards the store. It was adorable how easily he got flustered even after how the two of you were almost half a year into dating.
The two of you finally reached the store and stepped in, there it was the brand new neon tinted holographic Allmight figuring with working layers. Izuku's eyes sparkled as he ran towards it and immediately snatched it off the shelf.
"Yay we finally got it!" You cheered as you walked over to him and gave him a high five. The two of you had bright smiles on your faces as you talked about the figuring and walked towards the counter to pay for it.
You looked towards the counter where a young girl who looked about your age was working as a cashier, she had this bored expression on her face until she saw your boyfriend and it immediately changed into something you could only call as a flirty expression.
"Hey there handsome~ what can I help you with today~" she said in a sultry tone and gave him a wink. You and izuku were both puzzled at the fact that she not only just openly flirted with your boyfriend but also completely ignored your existence.
"U-um....er....we just need this figuring please". Izuku placed the box covered figuring on the counter and was about to pull his hands back when she quickly grabbed them and cupped them with her own hands.
"You sure, how about I give you my number and we ditch this place to go get coffee."
"Um -uh no thank you, I have a s/o!"
"Hmm...I don't see them."
"Well I'm right here and maybe you'd have seen me if you'd stop flirting with your customers and did your job properly." You said and at this point you were seething because even though she knew you were right there, she hadn't spared you a glance and pretend like you were completely invisible.
"Oh, so that's who you are....I was wondering why such an ugly person would be hanging out with someone like him-" she pauses and looks into Izuku's eyes with a bored expression "-you need to raise your standards, I mean have you looked at how hideous their nose is or how ugly their face is."
The two of you froze. Sure You've always made fun of yourself before but this was the exact reason why. You've always told yourself that if you'd make fun of yourself, you'd be desensitized to what others say to you but it's only now you realize that no amount of preparation would ever be enough to handle the real thing.
Shame. Humiliation. Pain. Fear.....This is what you felt at the momen-
"How. Dare. You." You turned towards Izuku and for the first time ever you were met with the most terrifying expression on his face. His eyes were dark and he looked...mad....like really really mad and you froze, the cashier looked like she was about to cry with the look he was giving her.
"I don't know who you think you are but you had no need to say whatever you just said and you are wrong because they have the most gorgeous facial features ever." at this he turned to you and softened his eyes a bit, he reached for your hand and gave you a gentle squeeze.
"I promise you sweetheart, you will always be the most beautiful person in my life and no one can tell you otherwise-" he looked at the slack jawed cashier with disgust and pointed towards her "-not stupid people like her-" he looked back into your eyes like you were the only two people in the store and pointed towards himself "-not me and lastly never will you ever tell yourself those kinds of words again even as a joke, got it."
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Always openly staring at you in the most respectful way ✨.
Even before y'all started dating he would always stare at you in secret, but hey! it's not his fault you were so irresistibly attractive all the time.
Uhm...so moving on, he is observant as heck especially when it comes to you but unfortunately he's just as oblivious T_T.
He's always noticed how you'd get shy and walk away whenever he'd stare at you for too long and genuinely thinks it's adorable at how bashful you get.
But truthfully.....you're mortified, paranoid even at how much he stares at you.
I mean yeah it's adorable to see him so whipped for you but you're always wondering if he's secretly bashing your side profile in his head and the thought makes you wince ever single time.
But you always tell yourself to not let your insecurities define Shoto or effect your relationship and besides Shoto isn't a cruel person, he'd never think of you that way.....right...?
Oh God, he's doing it again, he's staring at you and this time it truly is terrible because he is seated right beside you. The two of you are seated wooden chairs, side by side in the U.A. library.
Your textbooks and notebooks are spread out on the table in front of you. You're in a more secluded part of the library opting to study in a more private area and boy oh boy did Shoto take advantage of that.
"Shoto, could you please stop staring at me like that". You held your textbook upto your face and looked the other way.
"But I want to look at you". Shoto pouted slightly and furrowed his brows at your actions, he reached for your wrists and tried to pull them down and to much to your inconvenience, he succeeded.
You see, while you still had a bunch of work left to do, Shoto had finished about 15 minutes ago. You told him to go back to the dorms but instead of listening to you, he denied your offer and has been staring at you with the most unreadable expression on his face.
"Why can't I admire the one that I love the most". He slightly tilted his head towards the side and flashed you the most genuine smile. Damn him for being so adorable but that's not enough for your insecurities to go away.
"Because I'm ugly". You finally said softly with your head hung low and tears threatening to fall. You wanted to shrivel up in a corner and fade away for sounding so vulnerable but at the same time it felt so good to let your thoughts out.
"You're....what..." His eyes were wide and his jaw was set a slack. Now this took him by surprise, he had expected a lot of things but never once had he expected....that. He gently grabbed your chin and tilted your face to meet his. "Love, you're the most beautiful person I've ever met, why would you ever say that."
"Because I'm not beautiful, everyone has such a gorgeous face especially from their side. I don't and you don't have to lie to me to make feel better about myself. I know I'm ugly and I'll always be that....just let me accept that and be Shoto." You said with your voice slightly raised and shaky from the lump in your throat.
Shoto's eyes darkened a little and his grip on you tightened a little but not enough to hurt you. To even think that someone as precious as yourself could ever have such awful thoughts about yourself- how long have you been silently suffering like this all by yourself.
He cupped your cheeks with his hands and met your eyes with the most determined look on his face. "Darling, I don't know who said that to you or even if that's an inside voice but, I will absolutely never let you accept yourself this way."
"Everything about you is perfect, from those gorgeous eyes that i always get lost in," he kisses your eyes.
"-to that perfect nose that helps you breath so you could live by my side another," he kisses your nose.
"-to those delicate beckoning lips that I wish to kiss forever." he finally captures your lips in a breath taking kiss just to slowly release them and look at you.
"And besides, you know better than to call me a liar baby, you know that I would never lie when it comes to you so let's pack up for today and let me show you how much I love you and how utterly enticing you are."
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vaspider · 3 years
Note
Hi! I just saw your post about now identifying solely as a lesbian instead of bisexual lesbian, and I wanted to say congrats! I know you don't necessarily need the validation of a nearly-25-year-old, but I'm still super proud of and excited for you.
You've changed what labels you use and feel comfortable with so many times, and I for one am super pleased on your behalf. Finding the right words is hard sometimes, and while I personally feel confident in my identity as I label it now, it's always good to see that it's 1000% okay to change it if we need to.
I know I'm kind of rambly right now but I'm pretty sure I got my point across and that's what matters. Happy for you!!
Thank you. :)
I feel like, for me personally, it’s important to talk about these things in a public fashion. I know a lot of younger queer or LGBTQIA+ folx are reading what I have to say, and it’s important to me that I affirm the idea that queer is an okay thing to be, that you will change or grow throughout your life, and that’s okay! It’s okay to not stick with the same definition of yourself that you had when you were 12, 15, 25, etc. There may be some parts of you that never change, and that’s good! You have a core self, and that’s great!
But some things about you can change. Maybe it’s because you grew and changed, and maybe it’s because you came to understand yourself better. Maybe you unpacked a lot of other people’s expectations for you and suddenly remembered that night when you were laying in bed at like, 12, whispering ‘I’m a lesbian’ to yourself and you look back to that 12-year-old you and say, “Actually, you know, you’re right. Thanks for telling us.” 
Just for random example. 
But like, I think we’ve done ourselves a disservice as a community because we were trying to guard against things like conversion therapy. The ‘born this way’ narrative makes sense as a defensive maneuver, because allocishet people as a group can be really harmful shitheads to us, and for some people, that narrative is exactly correct! But it’s also true that for some people, that’s not correct, they grew and changed and understood themselves better. 
It’s important that we acknowledge within our community that that’s okay, and that doesn’t make their identities less legitimate or conversion therapy less wrong! You can change and grow during your lifetime, learn about yourself and shape yourself, and maybe that means you’ll find yourself saying ‘wow, I’m not actually a binary trans woman, I’m non-binary! I have learned and reassessed my needs and now I know!’ or maybe you’ll be saying, ‘hunh, I guess pansexual is a better label for me these days’ or ‘my means of interacting with my sexuality has changed, and I think demisexual is a better fit for me now,’ or even ‘I’m going to invent a gender for myself because all of the extant gender terms no longer serve me.’ 
For me, I think it’s a little of column A and a little of column B. I’ve always liked girls better, and in HS started acting out real hard to cover that up, because I lived in a rural area, and if I was a slut, at least I wasn’t queer, and could survive until graduation. I genuinely loved a couple of guys, which has nothing to do with my actual desire and attraction mechanism, I just ... loved them because they were good people. (Sexuality and gender and love and sexual desire can be very complex and confusing and it doesn’t serve us to pretend they’re not.) But I’ll tell you what, realizing that every AMAB I’ve been attracted to since I broke up with Cat’s dad was an egg, and they invariably came out after I started crushin’ on em? Kinda blew the top of my head off, and I had to sit down and think really hard about what that meant for me as a person. 
Anyway, this ramble is long enough. TL;DR: community defensive maneuvers which present queerness/gayness/transness/etc. as immutable absolutes are good when it comes to saving lives and bad when it comes to maintaining healthy community and healthy people within that community. I’m a lesbian, and I think it’s important for me to speak openly about my path so that the younger people coming up behind me in community who feel like I feel can say ‘ah, I’m not alone! Spider feels that way too!’ 
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Text
BUSINESS AND PLEASURE
Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Chibs Telford’ daughter!Reader
“What if you should move to Santo Padre for two months...”
Chapter one.
Word count: 3.4k
Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif credits: @angels-reyes.
Thanks to my lovely beta reader and partner in crime with this one, @chibsytelford 💘
Tag list: @starrynite7114 @dazzledamazon @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @sammskellington 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
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Since you've been forced to move from Glasgow to Charming, your life has been a roller coaster with noisy falls into hell. Some days you were fine, the rest you were only available to create chaos around you. Your mother died because of a terminal disease, after fighting for two years, and the last time you saw your father before that it was when you were a child. Came to live with him after twelve years without no contact, except for a few calls every month, it was hard. Harder than he could imagine. 
The first days you were locked in the room he enabled to you in his house, where you only had a bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe. No picture, no colors around, nothing. It was kinda depressing. At least, he tried. He tried to re-build the good relationship you two have had in the past, before your mother kicked his ass out of Scotland, when Clay said he needed him at California, with the Sons'. 
Filip used to cook your favourite dishes, having had to learn to cook before. At first you only ate two or three bites, until one morning when you woke up hearing him screaming in scottish. You've never heard him so angry, and that scared you. Barefoot and silently, you went out of your room, sticking your head by the door frame of the kitchen. Unbelievable. He was arguing with his phone. Specifically with YouTube. You could see how he was watching a recipe of baked fish. It sounded easy, right? The problem was the sauce. Apparently he forgot to add some ingredients, and he had to repeat it from the start.
“Shit!” He shouted hitting the marble countertop, supporting his fist on it with his head down and a sigh in his mouth. “Fuckin' pepper and fuckin' lemon”.
“I don't like”. You said in a whisper, getting out of your hiding place. 
He turned at you frowned and upset, leaning against the furniture. Cross-armed, he shook his head with his gaze on the floor. You knew how frustrated he was, trying to kick you out of that sadness that it was consuming you. You lost your mother, you had to move out of your country, from the cold to the heat. And you truly hated sunny days. 
“I just... wanna make you feel like you're at home”. He said kinda desperately, scratching his head hard, completely disheveled. “I know this is not Scotland, nor your house. It's ok if you miss it, but this situation is killing me too. So, please, give me a break...”
You heard every word he told you, feeling the same knot he felt on his chest, and his voice about to drown in tears. You walked slowly towards him, looking inside your head for the correct things to say.
“I like the way you cook, but you scared the shit out of me, 'cause I didn't know you were shouting at YouTube”. You thought maybe some kind of joke could help, while he was holding your hands. “I don't like pepper, nor lemon, so it's fine. Maybe... we could have lunch together, if you're not busy with the club”.
“Fuc' da' club, caileag”. For the first time, you saw him smiling and it was amazing. “Do you think everything will be fine?” He sounded sad, simply sad. But you nodded without any doubt.
“We will be fine, athair”.
That was all he needed to hear. Chibs leaned towards you, placing a hand behind your head to leave a kiss on your forehead. Your hands held on his waist in a warm hug that you were wanting to give him since you arrived to Cali.
━━━━━━ (One year later) ━━━━━━
But what happened next was totally unexpected. You hear Happy talking with his prospect, around the corner of the workshop, about a dangerous mission they have to take care of, keeping them for two months out of Charming. And by Chibs decision, you're not coming. But he didn't tell you anything about it, before. Walking in the front yard, you find six motorbikes and a van you don't recognize from your charter, but belong to an MC. You're angry, so angry. Your steps are heavy and big, going faster to the clubhouse, taking off the rings of your fingers to keep them inside the pocket. You open the door suddenly, without warning the men who seems mexican sitting closer to your father. You only can see that fucking scottish who made a promise he's not gonna keep. And he sees the fury burning in your orbs. 
“Oh, shit”. It's everything he can say before one of your fists go straight to his face.
“Woah, woah, take it easy, chamaca!” One of the unknown man talks, trying to walk next to you, until you point it at him with the gun you had tucked under your shirt. All the men raise their hands with their eyes so much opened, letting you know that they're not gonna interfere again.
Time have passed. Some wounds has been closed and you have got used to the heat of the coast. Now, you're not who you used to be. SAMCRO changed you, having its good things and its bad things. You lost all the innocence you had, learning to defend yourself by fighting body-to-body and shooting weapons of different calibers. Happy and Tig usually try to catch you by surprise hitting you, but your faster than their old asses, blocking every hit that comes from nowhere. And sometimes you ‘play’ paintball with Juice on his free day. You're one of the Redwood family, being included in every mission one way or another, working hand by hand with the prospect; with the minimal difference that your father is your sponsor. This gives you two some problems because of the strong character you have inherited from him. And there are some times when you end up being beaten. The crew is used to it.
You turn to your father, who is rubbing his right cheek between some groans, supporting a hand on the pool table. You're breathing distressed with your eyes full of tears. You know how it works. When he leaves Charming, you don't have any notices for almost one week. You live every day with the pain of not knowing if he's still alive or not. Two months is too long. You can't even live without him at this point of your life, how are you supposed to do it?
“You promised me!” You yell at him pointing your chest with your own forefinger. “You said ‘us against the world’! You said it!”
Your voice is breaking, drowned by the tears that run down your face and your neck.
“You're a fucking liar! You're doin' the same you did thirteen years ago!” Yes, you can see how your words are affecting him, but you don't care. 
“Baby, listen...” He tries to give some steps towards you, receiving a push on his chest.
“I don' wanna hear more bullshit”. Putting the gun again behind your back, you turn to the front door, with a slight pause next to the other charter. “By the way”. You stare to the man you pointed seconds ago. “Next time I'm talking to my father, you shut the fuck up...” Reading his patch, you raise your eyes at him. “Presidente”.
You slam the door shut after you leave, seeing Happy next to your motorbike. He knows you know what is gonna happen by the tears running your cheeks. But even if you don't wanna talk with him, being your confidant since you came to Charming, he wraps strongly your body with his arms before you can run away from him. Crying inconsolably, you hide your face on his chest without moving your arms, only supporting your weight against him. Happy rest his chin on your head with a sigh, 'cause he knows well how much you suffer when your father attends a mission out of town.
“Are you leaving too?” You finally ask, even when you don't wanna hear the answer. He nods slowly, cleaning your tears with his long fingers.
“I'm sorry. I promise I'll try to write you”. He says hoarsely. “I'm sure you didn't let Chibs explain himself, but listen… Not even my prospect is coming. It's really dangerous for you two, we're gonna be ok, (Y/N)”.
“Who are they? What are they doing here?”
“They're Mayans, from Santo Padre. Oscar and Canche ‘family’. We can't leave you here, alone, without any protection. So, Chibs asked them to take care of you while we're out”.
Now you understand what's happening. It's suppose you should move from Charming to the south Cali, surrounded by men you don't know. Leave your house, again. Your cry appears again, shaking your head with some sobs stuck on your throat.
“Baby, listen, listen”. Happy try to have your attention cupping your face between his hands. “They're good men, they're gonna take care of you. And Canche will go to Santo Padre every week to see you”.
“I don' wanna go, Happy. I wanna go with you, please”. You beg in tears, with your lips trembling.
“(Y/N), you can't”. He sentences, trying not to sound too rude. He snort closing his eyes for a second. “Listen, they also have a car scrapping. You can work there. You like cars and you studied to be mechanic. 'Am sure these two months gonna' pass so fast that you're not gonna notice it”.
The front door of the club house gets opened. You turn for a while, just to see how the men gets out of it. You sigh, looking at Happy again. And you nod, even when you don't want to do it. Pulling yourself away from him, you're heading towards your motorcycle. In silence, after fastening the helmet, you start the engine. If you have to leave Charming you wanna do it as soon as possible. So, it's time to pack your stuff.
And that is what you're doing, when you hear your father's keys opening the door. His footsteps coming close to you, watching sideways how he leans against the door frame arm-crossed. Your basic clothes are already inside the suitcase on the bed, closing the zip after checking again that you have taken everything you could need. In the bag next to it, you keep your laptop, your headphones and all the chargers, in addition to other things.
“Please, talk to me”. Chibs says, but there's no answer from you. “I didn't know how to tell you, and I'm sorry, honey. But I promise...”
“Don't”. You turn at him raising your forefinger. “Don't make any promise you're not gonna keep, Filip”.
He knows you're truly sad when you call him by his real name. Chibs walks towards you, holding your hands slowly hoping that you're not gonna push him away again.
“Bishop and his guys 'gonna take care of you. And Happy said he told you about ‘Romero and Brothers’. I'm pretty sure you're gonna have fun there”. He's trying to make you understand.
“I don' care. I'm gonna be away from you”. You finally say, letting go all the pain you have inside your chest, oppressing your heart. “And you're not allowed to text me, nor call me. Could you imagine how distressing it feels?”
“'You think it isn't for me? I'm not stone cold, even if sometimes it's what it looks like, (Y/N). I think about you all the time. About what you're doing at any moment. If you're eating well, if you're sleeping... All the fucking time”. He replies trying to hide his anger. “But I need to protect you. And there aren't better hands than Bishop's”.
You nod. You don't want to continue arguing with him. Filip hugs you tightly, hiding your face on his neck, trying to not break in cry again. Your hands clinging on the back of his shirt. You're not sure how many time you have been like this, when your father decides that he should call the Mayans to pick you up.
The roars of motorcycles, coming just in time, have your attention. You take your stuff, rolling the suitcase over the floor till you find them outside. Your father takes it to keep it inside the van, before saying goodbye.
“They're gonna take care of you, ok?” He says again, holding your cheeks between his hands. You nod in silence about to cry. Leaving a kiss in your forehead, he hugs you. “If I can, I will text you. I promise. And I'll keep that one”.
“Two months?” You ask raising your gaze at him.
“I'll be back before your birthday”. Assures you. “I love ya' more than anything. You know, rai'?”
You nod again swallowing, before leaving one last caresses in your left cheek, cleaning the tear that falls down through it.
“You're going with my man, Coco”. Bishop talks, with the helmet covering his head while he wears both leather gloves. 
“And my bike?” You turn to your father with more dramatism than necessary.
“It's in the van too, don' worry”. Chibs answers, hitting twice one of the doors. “Canche could need you”.
“Or us”. The Mayans president add with a soft smile on his lips.
Things starts to change, when you're conscious that you will continue working with the charters even if yours isn't present. So, at least, it's not gonna be that bad as you thought. 
“I'm sorry 'I pointed you with my gun”.
“What I can expect from Chibs' daughter? It would have scared me more if you hadn't, after everything we've heard from you”. Your father chuckles because of the words of the Mayan. “Ready?”
You hug him again, taking some seconds to memorize his smell to not forget it at all.
“I love you”. You whisper, pulling him away softly, before walk to the front passenger seat of the van.
But, before the man could start the car, your father makes a last appearance, pointing with the forefinger to all the men presents there.
“If anyone of you touch my daughter, I'll cut off your cock and make you eat it”. The Mayans know that it's not a joke, so they nod agreeing.
“I've a daughter. Her name is Letti”. The mexican accent, camouflaged in the foreign language, pushes you out of your thoughts. “She's sixteen, but I think you could be fren'”. 
━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━
The sun is falling when you leave the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign behind the van. You sigh heavily settling in your seat. The fresh air that enters by the open window makes fly some strands of your hair, supporting both arms against the door, with your chin on it, to watch out of the car the sunset on the horizon. It's gonna be hard, you know it, but at least you will have Canche visiting you every week. Maybe Oscar comes from Stockton too.
“Yea', maybe...” You say, turning for a second.
Coco turns the radio, hoping that music makes you feel better, looking for a channel without interferences. Then, you hear your favourite song, turning to the hand that is moving the calibrator. The man stares at you with curiosity, before turning up the volume. The melody continues, while you go back to your position leaving your cheek this time and closing your eyes to focus in the song.
“Hey, oh, listen what I say, oh! I got your hey, oh! Now listen what I say, oh!”
You're about to give him the silent treatment, but that only has bad points in your favor. You'll have to live and work together for the next months, so sooner or later, you're gonna have to talk him.
The first time you listened that song, you were living with your parents in Glasgow. You can remember your father singing it to you all the time, before go to Charming. So, listen to it again causes you bittersweet feelings.
“I like the Red Hot' too”. Coco says trying to be kind, while his fingers drum the steering wheel to the beat of the music. You have to say that he has a funny voice and hearing him singing sounds like a dying cat. That makes you chuckle. “Hey! What's up, mami? Don' laugh on me!”
“Sweet Jesus Christ, you're gonna make it rain”. Your laughter is loud now, capturing president attention who slows down to reach your window.
“It's everything ok, uh?” He shouts over the sound his motorbikes does.
“I hope he has a good aim, 'cause he couldn't work as singer!” You say in laughs.
“He's a veteran Marine, kid! What do you think?” Bishop accelerates to return to his place, while you turn to the driver, truly surprised. He has a triumphal smile on his face and his gaze in front.
“These motherfuckers discharged me because I used a rifle to shoot a cigar out of an officer's mouth”. He tells you. “I was three hundred meters from him”.
This is amazing and you feel the curiosity growing inside you. Curling your legs on the seat, putting around them your arms, you stare at the Mayan.
“Can you tell me about it?”
“'Bout wha'?” He asks looking at you for a second a little confused.
“About the Marine”.
He frowns, looking at you again.
“You wanna hear 'bout it?”
“I'm not asking you about the Area Fifty One”. You say with a sharp voice shrugging.
“I'm pretty sure that would be a good talk too”.
“C'mon! It's a long travel!” It almost seems like you're starting to beg, but the topic of the Navy and Marine has always interested you.
“It's weird!”
“Why?”
“Cuz' nobody has asked me 'bout it before”. He says with the same confusion you saw on him before.
“So bad is it...?”
“No, it's... cool. Pretty cool”. He replies with a slight smile on his face.
“I wanted to enlist in the British Army, but my mother said it was too dangerous for me. So, I didn't”. Your voice trembles for a second, and he realizes it.
“Sorre' 'bout your mom, Chibs told us”. He says after a moment in silent. “I killed mine”.
Your face shows a similar gesture of horror, he shrugs exaggeratedly.
“That bitch hit my daughter, and hurt her so bad. She also forced her to have a ‘bad life’, 'you know what I mean. She deserved it”. The calm with which he explains overwhelms you.
You're starting to think he hasn't had a good life. But who in their right mind would work for an MC? Not you, neither does he.
“And your mother hate you so bad that she called you ‘Coconut’?” You try to finish the tension installed inside the van with somewhat bad joke.
“The fuck told you that's my name?” He breaks in laughter, shaking his head, accidentally giving a flywheel. 
“Oh, shit”. Both say in unison. The charter looks back.
“My bad!” He shouts sticking his head out the window for a moment.
“Then? What's your name?”
“Johnny Cruz. And everyone calls me Coco”.
“Why?”
“We're not in that level yet, mami”. He imitates the sharp voice you used before.
“Ok, but, are you gonna tell me about the Marine?”
He sighs rolling his eyes, before showing you again his smile. So, there you are, lying on your seat stretching legs crossed on the dashboard of the van. He starts to talk, of course with the funny story of how he enlisted and all the chaos he created, compensating for it with his good aim. His voice is so calm, that if you close your eyes, you could think is one of those podcast people use to sleep; without the part of shooting, murdering, and all the bloody stuff. 
Actually, you did. You closed your eyes, opening it when the night has fallen. You yawn, putting your legs on the floor of the van.
“Sorry, I didn't sleep last night”. You apologize with flushed cheeks, rubbing your eyes.
“It's ok, mami. Te ves bonita mientras duermes”. (You look pretty while you're sleeping). He says.
“What did you say?” You ask, pretending that you don't speak spanish, but the truth is that you studied it for three years while you were living in Scotland.
“That you were drooling everything”. He lies so bad that he's a little nervous. “We're almost reaching to Santo Padre”.
“Great... Home, sweet home, isn'it?”
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and-dreaxoxo · 4 years
Text
2020' Rea Parkner Project
5 | Sunflower - Post Malone, Swae Lee (Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, 2018)
Requested by @flowersofparkner @frog-in-tom-hollands-mouth
Character: Peter Parker, Harley Keener
Category: Pre-Relationship | Post Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) | Food & Drinks | Gift |
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You're a sunflower, I think your love would be too much.
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Harley's is 100% sure with his plan today. Not until Peter show up in the lab without any smile or story of his school. He just came up, sat on his desk, and continued his unfinished projects.
That's enough to make Harley confused. Peter never do something like that, not as long as Harley started work in the lab about a year ago and always in the lab when Peter come. It's kind of first time.
"You've got problem, Parker?"
And Peter not answering his questions, he didn't even look away because of course he's already put his goddamn headphones. So, Harley stuck in this silentness, which is weird. After 30 minutes, Peter finished his project and go from there, not even giving Harley a damn smile or wave.
That's more than enough to make Harley rethink about his plan.
---
Peter is always something since Harley first met him. His smile, his Bambi eyes, and his nerd science shirt, Harley just can't. The way his shy face after he realized he talked too much about the last Star Wars movie in front if Harley, red blushing in his cheek after Tony tell Harley some of fire case in lab which is hilarious for him, his happiness every gathering night in tower, whether it's movie night, boardgame play, karaoke...
Peter is everything about happiness, except when the day he came up to the Tower in blood, tears, and failed heroic story. When he got shot, hit, or can't save people, he turn into sadness. That's something to make him fall for Peter.
People would describe him as sadness until he meet his own happiness. And, it's just for his family, Mama and Abby, Tony & Pepper, Happy & Rhodey, and now, Peter
Peter Parker.
Harley look at his gift for Peter. He sighed. May said Peter has something with flower and as she remembers when Peter's young, he really likes sunflower that Ben bought for her as weekly routine. His Mama, Macy Keener said boy like Peter is love something that physically similiar with his favorite object. Tony said Peter likes to eat because of his super metabolism. Ned & MJ confirmed that fact and added fries as symbol of friendly that could led to something, which Peter knew it but he's recognize in the end.
But, now, Peter is not here and looks in bad mood, Harley assuming that, since he can't just ask FRIDAY and had to connect with KAREN which will lead to Peter. So he just laying in the couch, seeing the necklace, gold sunflower that could be opened and there's the seeds with word "you are my sunshine", the thing he want to give Peter so bad. People would say it's too girly, but fuck 'em, he has to ask May, his Mama, and MJ. They're 100% sure and agreed with it and Harley couldn't resist their opinion.
Yeah, now he failed to make the first move, the first move since this feeling started long time ago. Stupid Harley.
"Harley, you have one unread messages from Spider-Man,"
As FRIDAY tell him, he immediately run to his Stark watch that abandoned in couch, and open the messages.
Spideybaby: Meet me in 15?
Harley is confused.
"It's like 5 minutes ago you didn't even look at me and now you asking me to go? The fuck?"
But he answer.
The Mechanic Lad: okay, see you
Harley pack the necklace in his pocket. He also grab his nano tech suit, because it might be trap but it can't be (he sure about that and don't ask him again how he can be). He made it on time.
There's nothing except Peter, in his clothes as before, look like idiot because of he talk alone. Maybe with KAREN but whatever. He's not facing Harley at all so Harley start calling from behind.
"'Sup, Pete? Anything go wrong?"
Peter stops his conversation and turn around to look at Harley.
"Wanna go out?"
---
After sightseeing New York from different ways and way, having new knowledge about this city that he lived for one year, watching people doing painting in some spots and try some (because Peter know these people), now they're standing in front of fries restaurant.
"Tadaa! Here we are! Best restaurant in New York, bet you couldn't get better fries except this,"
He's not wrong, because Harley would order food from here too if he could ask Peter first. But for the goddamn reason he didn't, so Peter make the first move.
Peter let Harley choose for them, but Harley resist and said, "You're the one who taking me out, why would I choose for us?"
So, they're eating together and Peter still talking about the paint they did. His eating behavior became funny.
"You such a mess,"
"Hey, if you don't like me at my worst, you don't deserve me,"
"Oh, really?"
Peter's pouting and Harley laugh. They finished the food and go out, walking for a bit till Peter stops. He turns back and frowned.
"Wanna sightseeing from up?" Peter smirking.
---
"Best view ever!" Harley commented, not lie, it's from his deep heart. New York looks amazing. It's not like from Stark Tower this city not amazing, but changing view is kinda refreshing.
Peter chuckling and look at Harley, "Yeah, best view ever,"
They sat in silence in few minutes, before Peter start again, "Hey, Harley." Harley turn his head over Peter and Peter giving him a box.
"What? Is it for me?"
"Yeah, open it,"
The box is a gift. When he open it, there's a necklace with small pedant. It's...
"Arc reactor necklace? I..." The light blue from arc reactor necklace is so soft and adorable. There's light play that make Harley in awe. "It's beautiful,"
Peter look at the necklace then Harley, "I've been working on it about 3 months. Can't get over easily, 'cause y'know, the detail, the color, it's really freaking me out. I had to begging Tony to tell me about how his old arc reactor look when he first met you. I guess it's something I want to give you for, uhm,"
"What?"
"It's like we just met in one year and I-I really like you, like a lot and it's not just as friends, uhm,"
Harley laugh and take his gift from pocket. His bite his lips, he really should do it.
"Um, actually, I've been meaning to give you this if I could make the first move, but at earlier I thought you're in the bad mood-"
"I make up my plan-"
"That turns out you're planning to take me out which is amazing, so," Harley takes a breath, "it's for you," Harley handed the necklace.
"Oh my, it's sunflower. I, oh my goodness this is the best thing I've ever seen, I really love it!"
"There's something in the seeds, by the way,"
Peter open the cover and read it, "You're my sunshine. Harley, I-"
"You're the sunflower and the sunshine. That's what described you as a person and someone I like,"
They look at each other, softly and warm, like the first when they met each other. It's worth, do it. Their mind tried to convince each one of them.
"Be my boyfriend?"
Peter said "yes" at the same time. Harley grin and Peter blushing. Then Harley kisses first, he makes Peter melt with him, he want to feel 'they'.
When their lips separated, now Harley is the one who blushing.
"Now, you make the first move,"
"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't."
--------------------------------------------------
I've been thinking so hard to make this fic. Thank you for asking♥️♥️♥️
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What have been some creepy encounters you've experienced? Story please?
ive waited quite some time to respond to this message, like literally a long ass time lol, probably more than a year, sorry. i feel like i have several encounters to tell you about, but what im going to relay to whomever might be reading this right now is a thing that went on over the course of an entire year.
quick backstory: during the better part of 2017 i lived with my then boyfriend (who now is just my best friend since we broke up in october this year) in the old parts of the city center. all buildings in that area are from around 1870, and the building where we lived is one of the first ones to have been erected. his aparment was on ground level and it has all the features of turn of the century housing with the fireplace, original floors, weird nooks and crannies etc, and looks as if it was meant to be lived in by service people/kitchen personnel. it also had its original door (i suppose) with the kind of springy locking mechanism where you have to turn the key and pull down the handle real hard simultaneously to open from the outside, the knob is very tough to turn from the inside, and it locks itself instantly once you close it (so if you forget your keys youre basically screwed). it makes a loud brassy springy clicking noise when the lock shuts or opens. takes a lot of effort to open this old door and its loud, is what im saying. the entire apartment is all original details, the flooring in the corridor has its original wood planks, original ventilation, weird but beautiful glass panels on the door etc.
the key and the door unlocking from inside
first off, when he moved in, the landlord was missing a key in the set of four. my then boyfriend, lets call him C, didnt really think about it. he moved in, gave his dad one of the extra keys. the first weird thing that happened was when C got back from work in the afternoon maybe two weeks after moving in. in the middle of the corridor, on the floor, he sees the missing key. like smack dab in the middle of the narrow corridor leading from hallway to the bathroom, next to his boots. its too far in to have been thrown in by someone through the letter slot in the door, and could not have been dropped there by neither him nor his father since they had all of their keys. so he’s like, weird, but doesnt really think about it. he also told me that around that time he heard coughing from the corridor when inside his bedroom (it opens up to the right from the corridor once you step inside the apartment), but also waved it off since it might as well have been neighbours just outside in the hall.
next weird thing that happens is after we had started dating and i pretty much lived there with him, and this time i experienced it. i started work around noon whereas C left around 6 in the morning. so im in bed and its maybe 10 o’clock, and i wake up to that loud, springy clicking noise of the locking mechanism in the door. and im like, what is he doing home at this time? so i get up, but no one is there. the door is also juuust a little bit askew, as if someone was going outside but then decided not to, like its just shoved open enough for the lock to click open, but the door isnt opened, its still within the width of the doorframe if you get what i mean. so i look outside and the hall is empty. i should have been able to hear steps in the very echo-y stairwell (which is also old and the acoustics are fantastic because we hear everytime a neighbour passes by, and subsequently opens the building entrance door which is also a loud, heavy door), but heard neither steps, up or down the stairs in the hall, nor anyone opening the heavy entrance door, or any evidence of human activity. all is quiet. i get a bit freaked out, because that means that unless someone else had a key, our door was unlocked from inside.
i tell C when he gets back, and after this is where shit starts to ACTUALLY go down.
im going to try to remember all of this in the correct order, but i know it started in january 2017, and went on until he moved out in december.
the song in the hallway
C talks a lot in his sleep. sometimes he even sings, he speaks in english (we’re swedish) and  he has been known to get up and take a shower at one in the morning while still asleep thinking hes late for work. for those who are on heavy sleeping medication, u get it. its not weird, mostly its funny, and its just because of the medication. these things go on literally every night and it was a bit hard to fall asleep to loud talking and incoherent words sometimes because he used to go to bed three-four hours earlier than me, but i managed just fine. one night we were in bed, it wasnt that late but C was asleep, i was on my phone next to him. i hear this weird melody being hummed, thinking its coming from C i take out my earplugs and check, but its coming from the fucking hallway. again, no one outside in the stairs, just someone or something humming a melody in the hallway. i remember my hair standing up all over my body and i was glad i slept closest to the wall, C shielding me from being viewed directly from the hallway. somehow i manage to fall asleep. and this part is going to sound weird and like its made up, im very aware, but having been through this crap i dont really care because i know it happened: the morning after C was off from work, and i for once woke up before he did. if i wake him up and his medication hasnt ‘wore off’ yet i guess (dont really know how that works) he’ll be disoriented and it takes a few minutes for his brain to register that hes awake and he can speak coherently. i did not poke him, i did not try to wake him up, but all of a sudden i hear him humming that same melody, very much deep asleep. that freaked me out.
the mimicking begins
another night around that time, i was up at around 2-3 am to go to the bathroom. i wiggle out of bed, out into the corridor, at the end of the corridor is the bathroom. when im done, i scurry back into the bedroom, information of value here i guess is i always sleep with my socks on so im wearing socks, aka i dont make a lot of noise when i get up. when im back in bed, looking at my phone, i hear footsteps - from the corridor. the freakiest thing is its like they are imitating the way i walked back from the bathroom, i can so CLEARLY hear sockless, BARE feet on the creaky floor of the hallway, literally stepping at the same pace i did. that was my first thought; someone is imitating my footsteps. i can hear them from behind the wall in the hallway, coming to a stop at the opening into the bedroom. like someone is standing there, watching. i get so scared i hide under the covers and press myself close to C and cant stop feeling icy shivers down my spine. i also cant stop thinking that someone or something waited for me in the kitchen, then walked behind me, mimicking me, and is now standing at the beedroom threshold, watching me. somehow i fall asleep, or i dont, i cant remember.at this point, im thinking somethings up with that hallway.
the poorly covered hole
this part isnt anything scary/supernatural really, just uncomfortable and kinda sets the tone for living in this apartment at the time: in the bedroom, C had placed a clothing rack next to the old 1900s floor-to-ceiling ventilation pipe that is plastered into the wall in the corner. literally just a wide ass pipe in the corner of the room that isnt in use anymore. behind the rack, leaning against the pipe, he had put a rarely used pink neon tube light and i decided it would look cool to try it out, but it was dusty in that little nook thing where it was so i had to clean it up a bit. while moving the clothing rack to vacuum, i realize there is a hole at least as big as my hand in the side of the pipe. i was like ??the frick is this? and i poke into it and there is just this thin paper membrane covering it. you could almost fit an entire head through there, and i can literally feel wafts of cold wind moving through it. there probably used to be an attached pipe of some sort to allow smoke from the kitchen to go up into the ventilation like a hundred years ago, but the thought that this at least 1 meter wide pipe, wide enough to fit a person, goes up through probably all apartments above us, up through the attic, ending as an open chimney in the roof, has this big hole in it is just… unsettling to me. obviously the pipe is not in use anymore, but that kind of only made it scarier. ive seen enough scary movies for that to make me feel a bit paranoid lol. i was almost expecting a hand to push through that paper when i touched it. but i covered it back up with the clothing rack and nothing really happened with that.
the mirror incident
one night, me and C were getting ready to go out. im getting ready in the hallway, because thats where the big wall-sized full figure mirrors are (of course). C comes out of the bathroom, runs past me infront of me, veering off to the left into the bedroom, wearing only underwear. i look after him in the mirror, i can see him in the bedroom, in front of his clothing rack. im fixing my hair at the time, both hands on my head. to my direct left is the front door and the space with our shoes and jackets. right in front of the door, for a split moment while im turning back to keep looking at myself in the mirror, i see what looks exactly like C but paler, wearing only underwear, standing in the same position as me, turned away from me as if the thing is also looking in a mirror. heads on its head like its fixing its hair, just like me. imitating me. i get shivers just typing this down. i tell C what i just saw, i literally went: ”uh C? i just saw a man infront of the door”, dumbfounded, and we both got a bit freaked out, and got out of there pretty quickly.
learning about demons
a few weeks later, C invites his friend to comes to visit. im not there at that time so i never met her, but she apparently had a knack for sensing ghosts and picking up on energies etc. he told me that when he got up to get them more wine from the kitchen and left her alone in the couch in the bedroom, she said she really felt very uncomfortable sitting with her back to the hallway corridor. she also told him that ghosts and spirits are usually not malevolent and you can get by fine living in a ‘haunted’ house. but when he told her what we had experienced so far, she told him that ghosts usually dont behave that way, and that a rule is that if something is imitating or mimicking you, its probably not a ghost, but might be signs of fucking DEMONIC ACTIVITY. apparently demons like to mock and impersonate people. friendly caspers dont do that. fun.
realizing the triangle/cursed ground
so, yeah. weird things kept happening. but we had jobs, sometimes you just gotta ignore that shit and try not to live your life terrified of demons. which we still were for the record; i dont think we ever left each other alone in that apartment for any longer than necessary after that, i remember C actually staying at his dads during the time i went away to see my family.
anyway, when we had started dating C had introduced this podcast to me. its a swedish one where a guy called jack reads creepypastas, analyzes spooky stuff, old folklore, all that stuff, and also reads original content and real stories written by listeners. its really good and really creepy. so that podcast had been going for maybe two years by then so i had a LOT to catch up with, wich wasnt a bad thing at all. i remember by this time is was summer and i was out on the street smoking a cigarette after doing dishes, and the episode i was listening to was about the last of the execution spots/gallow hills (?? i guess is the correct term? not sure) in sweden. remember, we lived in the old part of the city center, in the northern part of the city. very old buildings, very old everything. so jack commences to talk about the famous last gallow hill in [our city] and where it was located, when the final execution took place and for what, how many people had been killed there and its entire bloody history. i almost drop my cigarette, because he says it was located on zenithgatan (”zenith street”), and where the gallows used to be there is now a kindergarten. so im on our street, just outside our kitchen windows, looking right at that specific kindergarten. just across the main road. i will provide a screenshot of a map and a street view of what i was looking at to let you know i am not making this up:
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so the street we lived on is called döbelnsgatan (”döbeln street”, döbeln is apparently a city in germany, i just googled that), at the very end of the street, our citys main old cemetary is juuust beyond our line of sight to the right from the kitchen windows and where i was standing. however, across from us: zenithgatan, with all of its bloody history. i couldnt help but to wonder how far the blood could had flown from there and where the bodies had been thrown, if this entire part of town is built on bloody ground etc. it really gave me massive creeps.
a few years later (which would be a few months ago, when i moved in to the room where i live presently) i happened to land a conversation about ghosts with my new flatmate. turns out she also used to live in those neighbourhoods, in an apartment on the third floor literally overlooking the cemetary, but on celciusgatan, which would be the next street over from döbelnsgatan (see map). and she told me, without me having said anything at all about all of this, that that part of town including her apartment has always been haunted. she used to see a shadow of a man through frosted glass doors, moving around in rooms that were closed when both she and her son and her sister were in the kitchen. she didnt experience any malice however, and also had someone come check it out for her, but apparently she just had nice ghosts. but we agreed that yeah, these buildings are literallty inbetween a cemetary and the gallows; there are probably bound to be a lot of lost souls wandering around.
this could also be over-analyzing it, but if you draw lines from the cemetary to the site of the executions to döbelnsgatan/celciusgatan, it makes a perfect triangle. while googling the translation of ‘döbeln’ just now it says right in the wikipedia description that it is located ‘somewhat in the middle of a triangle, made up by three cities’. coincidence, perhaps. probably. but still. by now im pretty conviced of anything that could hold any significance about all of this.
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the painting
later on, maybe by a few months, and C tells me when i get home from work that he had woken up that day, after i went to work, from the painting atop of his big secretaire/chiffonier/bookcase (its really a big piece of heavy furtinure, but lets call it bookcase just to be simple) coming crashing down behind it. that painting had stood there since january, at least 9-10 months, and had not fallen down ONCE. it was leaning against the wall, perched safely and steady on the bookcase, with at least a centimeter bookcase until the gap between wall and furniture. i remember thinking last time i looked it was covered in dust because no one even as much as dusted that thing off, and there had been no weird vibrations in the walls that would have shook it either. by this point we’re both very, very uncomfortable in this apartment.
the painting and the hollow in the wall
and here comes the final thing that happened before he moved out, the part that we have on film. ill have to ask my ex for the footage if anyones interested in it, which is fine.
C was doing a collaboration with some people on instagram, an educational account about depression, self-harm, anxiety and such. they gave him the assignment to film himself talking about personal experiences, i think they wanted maybe 13 videos or something like that, the theme being ‘death’ (those videos are still up, im unsure if they posted this one as it kind of strayed from the mental health stuff a bit, but i know C has it still). so at this time - maybe september or october? i really dont know exactly when this was, i could probably scroll on their instagram account but im too lazy - he was filming himself a lot. so, he brought up the painting crashing, and filmed us both while demonstrating how it physically could not have moved and crashed down behind the bookcase because of the way it stood on top of it. it would have been one thing if it fell forward, but then it would have landed on its front and fallen in front of the bookcase, probably shattered the glass. but it fell BEHIND it. on camera, you can see my hands pushing on it to demonstrate the way it went down into that snug space inbetween. you would have had to physically push on it, at least a centimeter back, from the front. so for some reason, i get the very random idea to knock on the wall behind it. which means, i stand in the corridor and knock on the corridor wall that divides the bedroom from the hallway. and i swear to god, this is ON FILM. i knock all over the wall and its all concrete - except for THE SPOT EXACTLY BEHIND THE FUCKING PAINTING. the wall is hollow. right behind the painting. where it stood leaned against on the other side. i cant explain why i all of a sudden tried knocking all over the wall, or why the actual fuck there is a hollow square in the middle of the corridor wall, but that really fucked us up. there were just too many weird coincidences, you know.
like, all of this happened, or seemed to be centered around, the corridor. as if our hallway was some nexus for supernatural activity. and with that hollow thing, it was like it was starting to make its way into the bedroom, you know? unsettling.
thankfully, C moved out of there in december and we didnt have to stay there anymore, but i sometimes pass by and think about asking the current tenant or the neighbours if they experienced anything strange. its just so eerie. the mimicking parts were the scariest to me, and i get chills thinking about them and reading it even now.
so, thats my long, long overdue creepy encounter. i am VERY aware i sound insane but, hey. what can i do. i am not one for lying and i know that so thats all that matters tbh. i have other encounters as well, but living in that apartment takes the fucking cake.
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