#i put them all in the same pot for now so they'll have friends

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

My baby trees are very droopy at the moment

Im wondering if I should water them more

I put lots of dead leaves and wood in with them and theres at least 2 worms and a grub in the pot cuz I found them while I was digging up the trees and figured they might help the trees acclimate (I have no research to back this up im just assuming that since keeping the dirt from where they were planted originally with them is supposed to help and the worms and grubs were mixed in with that that they might also help)

Maybe also give them some egg shells for compost? Trees like calcium right?

[ttulipwritezz]

This Is Our Place.~ S.Black

Ootp! Sirius Black x gn! Reader

Synopsis: After azkaban, Sirius falls for his best friend's colleague, who just so happens to return his feelings. They find their place within the confines of a war. Perhaps they'll leave the Christmas lights up till January.

Wc: 2k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, inconsistency, mentions of presents, Christmas, bad family (s.b), kiss(es), might be ooc idk.

The clouds began to form in delicate shapes, and the roar of thunder echoed through the gloomy room. The light from a candle illuminated the kitchen, in which you sat, your mind preoccupied with the thought of the incoming rain.

Preoccupied with the thought of having to take the clothes off the drying rack anytime soon or bringing all your potted plants indoors to avoid them drowning.

It was not an odd thing—rain—being that it was the end of August.

"Knock, knock."

You looked up from where a blank piece of parchment lay in front of you, curious to know the source of the words.

"You could just, you know, knock? Like a normal person,  Sirius."

You found yourself speaking before you could collect your thoughts. The said man glanced at the parchment once and looked back at your face, his lips curving up the tiniest bit at your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Who am I, if normal, love?" He chuckles with a crooked smile.

You let your eyes roam around his face, his hollowed-out cheeks, and his half-lidded eyes. He looks tired. You conclude.

"Do you want some tea? I was just about to make some.."

You weren't really, about to make tea, that is. Still, you found yourself speaking, wanting to comfort the man, even if just a little.

Sirius was, by no means, your friend. He was just a friend of your colleague, Remus. You'd joined Hogwarts the same year Remus did; being new, the two of you hit it off immediately.

It always amazed you how well of a grasp Remus had on DADA. And he returned the favor by complimenting your herbology. You were a couple years younger than Remus, at best, and had known of him and the infamous marauders during your time at Hogwarts. Sirius Black did intrigue you the most.

You knew he came from a wealthy family, a bad one—of course, by no means did you want to intrude on his family life, but the heart does what the heart wants—and that he found solace in the friends he called brothers.

When Remus introduced you to his falsely convicted friend, Sirius Black, You damn near fainted on the spot, not because of his (undeniable) handsomeness but because of the sheer fear of standing in front of a possible murderer.

Now, years later (two to be exact), you find yourself enamored by the faded gray of his eyes and the curved bridge of his nose, which, you reckon, has been broken at least once during his time at Hogwarts, noting the sudden halt in the curve that then sharply turns to the other side and resumes its path.

Maybe it is a little peculiar to be noting such details of his appearance that you can paint a picture of his past. Strange, they'd call it. But it's routine for you. A routine you find comfort in.

"Thank you, Love," he replies.

A mumbled "'course" leaves your lips as you put the kettle to boil on the stove.

Sure, you could use magic, but these mundane tasks that don't require it seem to bring a sort of normalcy to your life. Even if just for a moment, it stops feeling like you're in the midst of a war and that people aren't dying left and right.

You were only nineteen when the first wizarding war came to an end, when your friends lost their lives, and when the dark lord seemingly disappeared forever.

He hadn't; that much was evident from the current situation.

The tea was set in front of Sirius almost unknowingly. You had been a little into your head and had been going about the task with practiced ease.

"Thanks again, Love. When do you reckon the others will return?"

Remus, along with the other order members, had gone on yet another mission. They left Sirius, concluding he was too weak to fight right now, and you, as you'd offered to stay back.

"Any time now, and really, it's no problem,"

you replied, sort of bashful at both his gratitude and the endearment.

As if on cue, the door opened with a jingle of the keys, and numerous voices rang through the empty corridors of Grimmauld Place.

Remus stalked into the kitchen and put his left hand up, leaning against the doorway with his right for some sort of support, revealing a gash running from his middle finger to his wrist and a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you. Immediately, wordlessly, you walked forward with your wand and began healing the wound.

Removing a tin of herbal paste from the drawer beside and handing it to Remus.

"How'd that happen? I thought this was a 'harmless' mission," you asked, quoting his reassuring words from earlier.

"I nicked myself on a broken shelf." As confident as he sounded, his lie didn't escape you.

All it needed was a 'really?' look on your face to get the truth out.

"Death eaters," he stated, defeated.

"You really ought to be more careful, Rem. It worries me."

You said that and guided him out of the kitchen to assess his other wounds, which included one on his arm and a twisted ankle.

Unaware that a certain raven head was watching you from the table, envious and defeated at failing at his attempts to talk to you. The rain began pouring down, and the clothes and plants still outside ran through your mind.

The rain mirrored the heart of the black, sitting at the table, gloomy as ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd last seen Sirius when Harry and the kids stumbled through the door of Grimmauld Place, bringing an unconscious, but thankfully alive, Sirius with them.

Harry had told you that he was leaving to retrieve his godfather from the ministry, mentioning something about a dream, but you weren't paying much attention after you'd heard the news. With Dumbledore's permission and assistance, you'd returned to Grimmauld's place to help in case they ever needed it. Praying that Sirius made it back alive.

The kids, along with Remus and a few other order members, laid the unconscious Sirius on the couch and went to clean themselves up as you offered to take care of Sirius in the meantime.

Once conscious, you dragged Sirius to the bathroom on the ground floor of the house, squeezing through the thin hallways and sitting him on the counter as you retrieved a first-aid kit from the cupboard.

"Couldn't you use magic to fix my wounds?" came his distraught voice, cutting your thoughts short.

"Do you want me to inflict pain on them? Just sit still. Besides, it's not like I'm a healer."

As you cleaned each wound with precision, one thought roamed your head.

It's not like they don't have wands—the death eaters, that is—they injured him in a way that seems almost muggle.

"If you're wondering how, it was Bellatrix," Sirius said, trying to suppress a hiss at the particularly deep wound on his arm, as if reading your mind.

"Your cousin?" you answered, or rather, asked, continuing and moving onto the smaller cuts that littered his face.

Humming, he let you get the rest of the wound cleaned.

You glanced up at his face when opening the packet of cotton, only then realizing how close you had been. His breath was fanning your nose as he stared deep into your eyes, no trace of guilt or shame in them, as if he trusted you wholeheartedly.

You could have sworn you saw him glance at your lips in anticipation. The thought alone swarmed your stomach with butterflies.

Only now had you realized how intimate your shared moments were and how he had always tried to enlighten your mood with his jokes. You thought it was his defense, his coping mechanism.

Though now it seemed amidst the war, all he tried to do was hear you laugh. By pausing your movements as if in a trance, you maintained eye contact with him. He looked so stern and so soft all at once.

In his mind swam thoughts of the previous night, when you cradled Remus's hand with such grace and concern.

His lips parted, and you wanted to kiss him. You don't know why, but you did. All you had to do was move your face half an inch forward, and his lips would crash into yours. You wanted to do it so badly.

And so you did.

His eyes fluttered close, and the arm that wasn't injured came up to grip your neck, light as a feather.

His hands caressed the tiny hairs on your neck and sent a tingle down your spine. The kiss was phenomenal.

You didn't sleep that night; the thoughts were fluttering in your mind even hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I kissed him."

As soon as those words left your mouth, Remus choked on his tea and had to take a moment to steady himself.

"You kissed whom exactly!?" came his exasperated voice.

"Sirius," you said sheepishly, suddenly feeling small under his wide gaze.

"I didn't even know you liked him," Lupin said as he went to dry his clothes from the tea.

"It just…sort of happened..you know-"

"no, I don't know y/n..what were you thinking!?" Remus was confused, and a part of him felt betrayed.

You liked his best friend, but he had no clue.

The patter of the rain outside added to the deafening silence that you left. The sound brought you back to the first night in the house, the night when you shared tea with Sirius.

Your eyes flitted to the scar running along the Lycanthropes hand, and you grimaced at the angry red surrounding it as it healed.

"Did you put the balm on it today? your hand, I mean " Your words cut through the silence like a knife, and you moved your hand toward one of the many drawers housing your herbal balms.

"You're deflecting, love... If it's any help, Sirius would much rather pretend nothing happened than act on his own; you're best off confronting him first."

Remus's words were assuring, but the tone in which he said them made you scrunch up your brows and tilt your lip downward.

"Umm, I'll see what I can do." Your hesitance was evident in your voice.

You walked back to your room after handing Remus the green and silver tin, silently reminding him of his wound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the house, Sirius lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the kiss.

His mind wandered to the feeling of your lips, his hands on on nape, and your gaze before it all.

Your lips. My lips.

"A Rubber Duck!" A shout came from the room beside him. Harry's room. They were playing a round of charades, he remembered.

Harry! Yes!

He should ask Harry. So he made his way towards their room.

"Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?" Just as Harry was getting up and ready to join his godfather,

"actually hold that-"

He turns to Hermione

"-Hermione!! You're a muggle. You'd know! of course" The hopeful tone of his voice sends Ron into a laughing fit, and Harry's mouth twitches into a grin as Hermione sits confused with a frown.

After discussing the matter with the kids, Sirius decides he's done with his stupid old ways. He wants to say something; make the first move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It happened on christmas eve.

Everyone had taken to opening presents under the large tree at the living room.

After watching Ron fawn over his new wizard chess set, you decided it was time for a much needed break.

"I think i'm going to go make some hot chocolate...anyone want some?" You asked, already getting up to yout feet.

Most of them nodded no and you only just realised all their mugs were rather full.

Making your way into the rather small kitchen of grimmauld place, you got out your wand to help make your hot chocolate.

"Knock knock" a familiar raspy voice came from the doorway.

An odd sense of deja vu enveloped you and you turned around to look at the source.

"you could just knock. Like a normal person" you repeated your words from the previous day.

The relationship between you and sirius had strained quite a bit after that shared kiss.

"sorry love, how's your day going so far?" He asked, seemingly trying to dissipate the awkwardness from the air.

"Alright...i suppose, what about you?" You replied with just as much hesitation.

"Good." And it stopped at that, the conversation.

Only now did you realise just how close he had gotten. You backed yourself away slightly, only to find your leg hitting the back of the counter.

The world seemed to be silent as the sound of your breaths mingled with one another, accompanied by the ticking clock.

The noises in the living room had become nothing but a blur and muffled by your thoughts.

"I really like you y/n. I truly do" Sirius spoke first, drawing your attention from the planes of his face

"Huh?" Your reply came meek and unsure.

You weren't even sure you'd heard it right.

"i like you." He reiterated.

You did hear it right.

Your knees felt weak but at the same time you were on cloud nine.

Before getting the chance to gather your thoughts you found yourself speaking..

"I really like you too sirius"

your voice came out just louder than a whisper, you're sure he wouldn't even have heard it.

His next words sent a flurry of butterfiles to your stomach.

"May i..?" You noticed him glancing down at your lips and back at your eyes.

You couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on your face as you nodded yes.

The kiss was diferent than the last, less desperate yet more passionate. It was slow, steady and loving.

You could feel his smile against your lips before you pulled apart.

"I've waited so long to do that" his voice came a mere whisper

Your eyes followed the movement of his lips, which were on yours moments ago.

" I...umm got you a gift" he continued, his hesitation surprising you.

Forcing your eyes to look back at the grey irises you managed to let out a breathless

"what?"

Sirius pulled out a box, a small one of velvet, the kind that would normally house a ring, now held a singular locket that was shaped as a star.

"A star...for my star" he said

You couldn't stop the heat from spreading to your cheeks, eyes widening a touch and lips quirking up the slightest.

Two voices giggling could be heard from the kitchen that night.

The whole night.

A/n: I spent WAYY too long on this- and the ending is super rushed lmao i hope you enjoyed it and all reblogs help me reach more ppl! I had sm fun writing this. i'm v proud of this ❤️❤️

[strangedreamings]

S3E4 (spoilers abound)

Portia, Prudence, and Philippa listening at the open door while Debling calls on Pen. The three of them are anything but subtle.

Aww, he gave her a potted plant so she can have nature indoors with her. I hope somebody in this house has a green thumb. He is sweet but he'd better be honest with whoever he ends up marrying about his actual reason for finding a wife.

Has Pen truly given up on Colin? It's sad if that's true.

"I will surely eat all of the biscuits" You mean we FINALLY have an appearance by Colin's bottomless pit of a stomach? It only took what, TWO AND A HALF SEASONS?!

Violet knows when something is up but she also knows a dismissal when she hears one.

Benedict and Lady Tilley. Yeah, she's this season's Siena, though I will say I like her a lot more than I liked Siena (which isn't hard). She won't last but at least they'll be fun to watch while she's around.

Agatha and Marcus. Their dynamic is interesting -- "Do whatever, I'm too busy to get involved." I doubt he'll last beyond S3, but you never know.

"to become the new Marquess Samadani" OH MY FUCKING GOD, SHONDA, YOU DID NOT!!! The wife of a marquess (or a female marquess in her own right) is not called a marquess, but a MARCHIONESS! I know marquess isn't a common title in the British peerage but Shonda, you have access to Wikipedia, FUCKING USE IT!!!

"You read me too well." God, I love Charlotte and Brimsley.

Violet, El, Fran, and the kids are expecting Lord Samadani but Maybe-John has dropped in instead. We'd better learn his name soon, this is driving me nuts.

"John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin." FUCKING FINALLY!!!! I don't care that his accent is wrong, I love this guy already! Is your cousin Michael in town too, John? Or is he earning his title of the Merry Rake elsewhere?

John and Fran are simply enjoying the silence and the rest of the family is completely baffled, I love it. And here comes Samadani, lovely. John, your timing is awful.

Samadani seems like a nice enough guy, he's just wrong for Francesca.

Love the library, hate Portia's internalized misogyny. I really feel for Cressida now. Can Debling marry her once Colin finally gets his head out of his ass and marries Pen?

I take "revelry" to mean Colin's friends are going whoring and want him to come with, lovely.

Debling is finally being honest? Well, not directly, but still, I'll take it for now. Oh, he's being subtle but he is being direct, got it. Poor Pen, she's torn between the life she wants and a good life that's being offered to her.

Colin with his two ladies again but this time, he's not into it. If you've already paid, Colin, you could've just bid them goodnight and left, you didn't have to stay.

Francesca running into John on the street. These two are a little too quiet for their own good, but I'm sure they'll be fine, maybe with a little help from Violet.

The Cowpers' sitting room has to be the most depressing room on the planet. Lord Cowper's forbidding Cressida from being friends with Eloise? Is it because of Colin? Or Pen? Or maybe he thinks she's putting too much effort into the friendship and not enough into finding a husband. Cressida, I'm guessing you're the same age as Daphne, so I believe that makes you 23 now. You're a legal adult and have been for two years. It would be highly irregular but you could move out of your parents' house. I'm sure the Bridgertons would take you in if Eloise explained everything.

Uh oh, the Mondriches' pub needs saving (again). We'll have another last-minute save by a Bridgerton by the time S3 is over, I'm sure. Frankly, most of the ton can fuck themselves, and that includes Colin's "friends," especially Fife. Pig.

Colin wanting more out of sex is a great sign of both his maturity and him falling in love.

So Debling's serious about proposing to Pen. Poor Pen and poor Cressida.

BTW, I love how the subtitles keep calling the music this season "pensive," it feels like an unintended pun.

For a woman who can't come up with a decent metaphor to save her life, Violet is very wise when it comes to her kids. Oh, she is playing Colin like a fiddle! Go, Violet!

I really like her and Marcus together, he seems like a great guy, though apparently somewhat estranged from Agatha.

Cressida came to Eloise. El really brings out the best in her, something her parents really try to keep hidden. I swear to God, Shonda, if you don't give Cressida a happy ending, I will.

Be careful, Fran, especially with the Queen watching.

Colin has finally outgrown his "friends," halleluiah!

Well, at least Debling bowed out gracefully. And Cressida still has a chance, as slim as it is.

Oh, is this THE carriage scene? Not quite how the book one went but hey, if we get the same outcome, I'm all for it.

Aww, Colin looks like he's about to cry.

"Are you going to marry me or not?" Colin, I could kiss you but I'll leave that to Pen. WE GOT OUR BOOK PROPOSAL!!!

And we don't even get an answer before the episode ends.

Nice cliffhanger, Shonda.

[deramin2]

Just watched Eternal Sunshine On The Spotless Mind again today. What am absolutely incredible film. Some of Jim Carry and Kate Winslet's best work. Absolute masterpiece of practical effects. Honestly it was so ahead of its time that I couldn't really appreciate it 20 years ago in the way I can now.

The first time I saw this film I was in high school and probably rented it at Blockbuster not too long after it was released. I heard it was good and arty, but it was Jim Carrey so I was expecting a stock favorite Hollywood romcom plot.

My expectation: The depressed schlub has a falling out with his manic pixie dream girl girlfriend and they both get their memories of each other erased. But then they meet and fall in love again which proves that true love is real and they were always meant to be together. And this time they all lived happily ever after and everything is just as it was meant to be. Your usual straight romcom trash plot with a dash of homophobia thrown in there to remind you this was 2004 (which aged like a time capsule).

My friends, I was confused watching the film with that expectation. The pieces didn't seem to fit. It felt disorienting, in a good way, but where I couldn't figure out the current in it's depends and it didn't feel like it was leading where I expected, only further out to sea. And those final two scenes felt so incredibly contradictory. Like it shouldn't have happened that way but I knew it was important that it did. I registered it as a good movie about the danger of trying to forget the past, but I didn't fully get it.

I always meant to go back and rewatch it, but I didn't. It just kind of simmered in the mental stock pot for a couple decades.

Well, today I was feeling deeply depressed about the state of the world and myself to the point that even when my partner and I could hang out and watch something, I couldn't even face watching the blorbos with him to keep caught up. And then Eternal Sunshine On A Spotless Mind slithered into my thoughts. Something I remembered he had never seen but might like. My depression comfort watch films are the most bleak depressing emotional trainwreck about whether people can ever heal their bullshit (odds favor no). Fortunately he's also a tragedy enjoyer.

And now with all the hindsight of my life, I realize this is a time loop horror film about a relationship caught in a toxic vortex that keeps dragging them together when they need to just get away and end it. They want the fantasy so badly that this time it will work and all this pain will be worth it because they can just change themselves through love miraculously.

But the horror and the tragedy is that they can't. That Hollywood story isn't true. It's ruining both their lives to keep believing in it. This isn't a relationship that can be saved or should be saved. It's poisoning them. Every single person in this film keeps holding onto the belief that if they can just put the past behind them and forget all of their mistakes, they'll make all the right choices next time.

What ends up happening is that all of them make the same mistakes over and over again because they don't remember the steps that led to them. Partly this is that the procedure itself is a sketchy as hell Torment Nexus. But also it's because it's impossible to erase every reminder of who you were then. And who you were together. The pull of that nostalgia is so strong that they all just tell themselves they can have the good parts while willing away the bad parts this time.

They can't. Their lives move forward in time but their experiences are caught in a time loop. Everyone making a string of mistakes that drag everyone around them into their own mistakes. Navigating the straits of their relationships, they're so scared of the shoal of ending up alone on one side that they get swallowed buy the whirlpool of staying together. Between Scylla and Charybdis is the channel where they leave for good this time to find out who they are without that person. And hopefully to find a safe harbor. But they will never find safe harbor with each other. They only ever end up sinking together. Being swirled around and then violently spat back out to try again.

Maybe Hollis and Stan got away. That was the only chance at a happy ending for them. I'm glad that the film doesn't tell us if it works, just that it's still important every time people try. Trying to just start over and over with the same person even though it always ends in misery is not romantic. It's a horror story. And our protagonists do not get away.

[yellowcry]

Cornplate

I heard about Encanto from one of my friends. Luckily, my local shop just had cheap copies

A crack fic because why not?

I remember it as if it happened yesterday. Probably because it happened yesterday.

I was shopping in our local cheap convenience store, when my eyes spotted something. A CD with Encanto. A Disney Movie my friend didn't stop talking about. I was somehow intrigued as she really praised it. Part of me was surprised. It was 2024, who the hell uses CD disks in that time?

Luckily, my parents hadn't update our PC since before my birth, so it wasn't a problem.

For my huge relief, it was at markdown. How could anyone miss a chance like this?

The first thing that made me feel uncomfortable happened when I unpacked the box at home. Some idiots decided that, apparently, putting two covers was a brilliant idea. They looked exactly the same, only that the second was black and white.... Okay, maybe it FAR from exactly the same. But anyway, it was cheap. There probably would be some defects.

So, as I had beaten up the computer system unit to make it run and inserted a disk, the image immediately floated. CRAP! It's a virus... PC is probably dest—

"Hola," I froze, staring at the screen. Seeing a young man in here. "You had found a true version of the movie. The one that Disney had tried to destroy." Okay, what the heck? "Please, spread this version, the world has to knpw the truth about my wife and descendants."

Okay, why does it sound like I'm in some cheap creepypasta story?

I had leaned back in my chair, opening a pack of snack. Well, I had to do the best comfort, right?

A corn growing in a pot appeared on the screen.

"Open your eyes." An old woman asked, holding a girl. The magic corn of the Madrigal family? What? What are stories are they doing these days...

The visual was showing a young old woman (not really old then) and a man that I had seen in the beginning standing in a burning field. The entire food was destroyed. But then a man dropped dead because why not and one last corn grew bright and created a huge field.

"When my children came of age, the corn had given them magic gifts to serve our fields!" I listened to the explanation, intrigued. I wonder what would a girl's gift be.

Time switched to a years later. Pacing through the routine where a Tía Pepa rains on the crops. Julieta cooks. Dolores listens to the parasites. Camilo shapeshifts to have better physical strength. Isabela grows corn and Luisa plows the land. Such a good strong family! Everyone has a... What do you mean Mirabel doesn't have a gift??

Apparently, her door had dissapeared! Poor girl, but at least her family does really good even so. Mirabel is really sweet! She's such a good prima to Tonito! And she had even make a plush corn for him!

Gladly, Antonio got a gift. I breathed out with relief, knowing that the family was good.

But then... The family took a picture with corn... They took it all and Mirabel hadn't get any! Really sad... I wish her all corn in the world!

WHAT?? THE CORN IS WITHERING?? Oh no! What if they'll be left without any food? But once Mirabel calls everyone, everything looks fine. But it was definitely wrong ten seconds ago?

Honestly, this family just couldn't't catch a break. Abuela confirmed that the corn is indeed in danger. And at the next morning Luisa acted really off.

Oh, I guess being forced to work all day wasn't fun. I thought she was happy being useful, but she is breaking from the weight of a plow on her shoulders. At least we now knew about a vision.

Bruno's room looked awful. So abandoned. You can't grow anything in here. And lots of stairs! Too many for it to be legal! And the vision has Mirabel. Of course, it's always the protagonist in the centre of everything.

Tía Pepa told how her brother ruined her wedding corn but making ber rain too hard. She ended up flooding it. And while Mirabel was bisy with a vision the family did... something. Either preparing for the dinner or crying because her gift and corn are withering.

Mirabel in a empty field. Crap, it so tense! I bit my finger, waiting for the outcome.

The dinner was disastrous. All corn is rotting! Everyone saw Mirabel in a vision. And rats grabbed it taking it into the walls! Whre a strange man lives. Honestly, if I was Mirabel, I would immediately move the hell outta here. I mean, sure, it's her Tío. But why the hell does house have an apartment inside its walls??

No, dude, I understand everything, but how tf did you manage to live in the freaking walls for ten years? Oh, well, I probably should had expected that.

They take another vision where Mirabel hugs Isabela. Honestly, Isa was pretty rude through most of the movie. But that's what siblings are for.

Their talk grows into another musical number where Isabela makes a corn that looks like somebody had injected drugs into it. Pretty normal, I'm seeing it every odd Tuesday.

The moment where Mirabel and Abuela are arguing are literally makes me cry. And the corn is all dead! NO, NO, MIRA, SWEETY, DON'T GO!

At the next morning we get to see Abuela's story. The loss of her husband made her too closed and protective. And feeling like thay have to deserve the food. I had never thought Abuela had suffered so much...

But, together the family can make a new field even without their gift! And, what's even better, the entire village goes to help. They wanted to pay back after all those years of food supply from the Madrigals.

In the end of the day, they are family. And they are in it together. This movie needs to stop being so damn sweet, or I'm gonna flood my floor with tears like I'm Pepa.

The magic returns? But, now, the Madrigals are imperfect! I hope they will get even better!

How could Disney lie about the true version? They so annoying! No, listen, guys, how about we sue them to make a true version of Encanto get the fame it deserves?

[bestbonnist]

Chapters 171.2 and 171.3

If you haven't read these chapters yet, here and here.

Since they had the doll imbue a pot with her memories/dreams and then do nothing with it, that pot is most definitely going to be important later. Chekhov's gun. But I don't know how. I don't think there's anything in the dream that wasn't in the doll's description. Eko already looked at the pot, right after the doll made it, but she got distracted. Maybe Fushi sees 32 from the doll's perspective and she reminds them of the nameless boy.

The mud Eko uses to project her thoughts is special and specifically reacts to human brain waves, but I wonder if there's a stipulation that you have to be human to leave your memories on an Earthenware pot. Because if so, the pot would serve as further proof that the doll is human. Just keep an eye out for it.

Tonari always seems to put her ghost form to more practical use than anyone else. Another way in which she uses her death for her friends' benefit... The first time she died, she found Bon and taught him about Fushi, and now she regularly uses it to spy on Kaibara. Makes me wonder if she used it for anything else while she was dead during the previous era. Maybe to follow the Defense Corps./Kahaku around to make sure they weren't planning on double crossing Fushi.

Tonari insists Mizuha's clones are only related to Mizuha on a surface-level, despite mistrusting Mizuha for her relation to Hayase for most of the present era. She denies Mizuha's connection to Kaibara, and stresses that these girls are just ordinary girls and not at fault for whatever's happening with the company. Since a lot of Tonari's dislike for Mizuha was an extension of dislike for herself/her belief that children are responsible for their elder family members' fuck-ups, to me this indicates that she's also being more lenient on herself.

Another aside about Tonari's behavior: she's committed to letting Fushi make decisions for the group but she clearly regrets it. She's kind of like Fushi's confidant, in a way, because she's privy to information that no one else knows.

The fight between the immortals gets shut down without actually being resolved—with Hylo and Tonari bowing out when Fushi gives their verdict and Messar just not caring very much one way or the other. It's over so quickly, actually, that I think it'll probably crop back up again later. It's also funny that Hylo and Messar share the same opinion on many things but Hylo just can't fucking stand agreeing with him.

Fushi keeps remaking the Aoki house, that hurts a lot... they continue to recreate a building that they lived in five hundred years ago because it's the place that they think of as "home," except the house is in ruins because the people who kept it clean and who turned it into a home for Fushi are no longer alive.

Fushi now sits at the head of the table instead of Satoru. Further signifying that they're actually taking control as a leader and decision maker, totally different from how they were in the present era. But they're doing this by shutting everyone out again. I believe it's more out of a desire to keep their relationship with Hayase's descendants and their other friends separate than because they don't want to put their trust in anybody, but let's be honest it's probably both.

The chapter contains flashbacks to two other scenes with Satoru. The first is from Chapter 160.2. Satoru did give Fushi the sphere, they touched it and passed out. Satoru says afterwards that it was too much information for Fushi to take in at once, which checks out because the sphere contains the ability to create anything. It's infinite data. But they did touch it, so they could hypothetically recreate it.

Fushi was also a sphere, before they were anything else. If the knockers take all of their vessels like they did in the previous era—although their number of vessels has probably grown exponentially—they'll be reduced to just a sphere and then the knockers could just wish that they were dead, or however it works.

The second flashback is to Chapter 164.1. This is where Satoru mentions that he already cast off this power—although he's vague about whether this is the sphere or something else—which could mean he physically cast it off. Deeply ironic that Fushi doesn't even have the power to control knockers nor wants to and the knockers haven't so much as touched them for fear that they might. Also deeply ironic that in the present era, the left hand was about to merge with Fushi and probably kill them but a different knocker shot it in the head first.

I'm super intrigued by how the story will proceed with Fushi no longer being the perspective character (at least momentarily). Seeing them from someone else's point of view again... having their thoughts hidden from the readers... why do I feel like this is because they know something that's not meant to be revealed yet. The way they react to the doll, too... it reminds me of the way they treated Mizuha and the left hand, being especially compliant with their desires. Quite possibly because of her connection to Kaibara and Mizuha's thirty two identical buddies.

If 32 was an employee at Kaibara, she had to have known that just giving the doll a tag chip wouldn't have done any good by itself. And, again because of her status as a Kaibara employee, she also must have known about the sphere. So it seems likely that her plan was to have the doll find the sphere and make her wish all along. And Fushi probably knows something about this plan, given the way they keep staring daggers into her whenever she says anything about becoming human.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Mikasa is horrified to find her crush and best friend smokes pot. But she also happens to find out when she catches him already as high as the skies. And Mika is also found out that stoner Eren gets turned on very easily when high, and much more straightfoward towards his feelings for her

Stoner Eren is everything to me, like I will put him up high on his pedestal bc he deserves it. He's so mean and lazy, but I can just imagine Mikasa's good boy image of him absolutely crushed! She's such a goody goody, thinks Eren is too, he's handsome and smart, top of their class, she's his only competition and he's good at sports, star of their uni soccer team.

Mikasa is not stalking Eren, not at all. Well, at least that's what she tells herself as she knocks on his apartment door. Yes, this is completely normal, for her to know where her peer lives despite them not really being friends, barely acquaintances. She's just being a good classmate and returning the textbook he'd left in class. She'd noticed after their lecture that he'd left it on the seat next to him, something any normal student would notice and not just because she's paying a creepy amount of attention to him. And she'd found out where he lives through completely legal means, by stalking his class profile, finding his Instagram and figuring out his address from there. Not weird at all, completely normal. Her heart is thrumming against her chest, badump, badump, badump as she raps her knuckles on the door, waiting. God she's been waiting for this moment all her life it feels like, the moment it'll all come to fruition, Eren will finally notice her, realize the girl of his dreams has been there all along. She's already dreaming of their future together, how they'll both become lawyers, hopefully at the same firm, get married, and she'll take some time off work, hopefully have lots of glorious Yeager babies and he'll be such a good dad. They'll live in a pretty white house in a good neighbourhood next to a good school and she'll work from home, a divorce attorney she hopes but her own marriage will be perfect.

She practically swoons at the idea, Eren being hers, he's so perfect, her dream man, everything she's ever wanted, her perfect equal.

But then he opens the door and instead of the heartfelt meet-cute she's expecting she's blasted with a gust of hot air, smelling very distinctly of marijuana.

Eren appears in a thick cloud of smoke, unphased, his bong in one hand, a lighter in the other, leaning himself up against the door frame as he gets ready for another hit. "Can I help you?" "Oh," she whispers in surprise because the love of her life is very apparently a pothead. For a moment, she tries to come up with reasons for this, maybe it's just a one-time thing to relax, maybe he's borrowing it from his roommate. But the lack of other shoes in the hallway and complete familiarity with the bong in his hand prove otherwise.

"Hello?" He prompts, eyebrow quirked up as he plays with his lighter, flicking it on and off.

"OH umm sorry, I'm Mikasa, we have Law together and I noticed you left your textbook earlier," she mumbles. "Oh," Eren hums, his eyes bloodshot as he looks her over, a wicked smirk carving his lips, "Right you're the hot girl in all my classes, uptight, stick up your ass right?"

"What?" Mikasa sputters, clutching at his textbook for dear life because this is not the boy she imagined at all. "Yeah," he whispers, his voice gravelly, answering his own question, "That's you." "I do not have a stick up my ass." "Prove it," Eren challenges, casually snatching his textbook from her and throwing it backwards onto his entryway table. Her hackles rise because he is not the man she thought he was, no longer her prince charming, the illusion ruined, "I don't have to prove anything to you." "But you will, won't you sweet cheeks, now c'mere and let me help you remove the stick from your very sexy ass and we can have some fun." She gasps, her cheeks coloured fire engine red, and yet, some part of her wants it, wants him, because he's looking at her. Looking at her the way she's always dreamed he would, since first year when she saw him in her philosophy tutorial, looking at her like he wants to eat her up, steal her away. Her breath hitches as he nods his head inside, opening the door a little wider, "C'mon sweets, why don't you come inside and tell me all about yourself." She can't help herself, following him inside, "Alright." "Good girl." And to Mikasa's immense surprise that is the beginning of her married life, because Eren might like to play hard but he works hard too and he's no fool, he knows what he's got the second he lets Mikasa into his apartment.

An equal, someone to play hard with.

[30-mokke-in-a-trenchcoat]

Q&A, Nocsia Edition

Messages for the lovely stepsister

Messages and questions

I love how oblivious she is. I wanted to see her interact with Princesss Neige more.

I hope she can close the gap between herself and Princess Neige little by little! She's the biggest chad out of all of them, so I'm cheering her on! Nocsia: It always makes me happy to hear that someone likes me, and while it doesn't happen often, sometimes even Neige says she likes me!

What's your life like now that you've moved to the castle? I doubt that you have much time for flowers, so I'm curious what else you spend your time on. Nocsia: To tell the truth, I've claimed a little corner of the castle garden for my own, and I take care of the flowers there. I'm certain the staff responsible for the garden must have noticed by now, but it seems they've chosen to overlook it. Ras: I go there sometimes and help out. I think Leo does, too. Nocsia: Oh, I knew it! Ras: You did? Nocsia: Yes, it looked like someone else had been tending to it even when I was too busy to go there for a while… I thought that the one who left pulled weeds lying around everywhere must have been you, Rasphard, and the one who neatly cleared everything away must have been Estelio. Neige: You always leave things a mess. Ras: Ouch… Nocsia: Ha ha ha, no, I'm grateful. Thank you. Nocsia: By the way, on the subject of how I spend my time… I was just an ordinary florist's daughter, so I don't know anything about the rules of high society, or how to comport myself as a princess. Because of that, there are so many things that I have to learn that I spend practically all day studying.

Do you and Neige have a better relationship now? What kind of things do you two talk about? Nocsia: I've gotten her to warm up to me bit by bit. She talks about Estelio and Rasphard the most, and sometimes she helps me with my studies. Leo: She talks about my little brother and me…? Nocsia: I've heard all kinds of things about you two. Leo: "All kinds of things?" Nocsia: Yes, indeed.

How do you feel about Neige and Estelio's relationship? Nocsia: They're quite frustrating. If only Estelio could be more honest with her… don't you agree? Ras: Yeah, though when you think about the position he's in, it's got to be difficult for him.

The way Nocsia completely overwhelmed Leo in Ending 2 was awesome! （´∀｀） Is there anything she would like to do with Neige?? Nocsia: Ha ha ha, thank you. Let's see… what I would like to do with Neige… maybe give her some advice about romance…?

I want to ask how you want Leo and Neige to end up. Nocsia: Considering that the king got married to my mother, and that Estelio is the eldest son of a noble family to begin with, I think she ought to put herself out there more a little more.

Nocsia is so beautiful and cute…!! Nocsia: Oh, you really think so? Thank you.

I couldn't help thinking that Ras and Nocsia would make a good couple! (lol) She'll definitely! definitely! make him happy!!!!!!!

If you're looking for a boyfriend, Nocsia, how about Ras?! Nocsia: Rasphard? Ras: … Nocsia: I… wonder if that would work out. Ras: Wha--nope. Nope. Nocsia: I'm not sure about our romantic potential, but I would say that we're good friends right now. We're close in age, and Rasphard also lived in the city for most of his life. Ras: I know it's rough in a lot of ways, going from being a commoner to a princess.

What's your favorite flower? Nocsia: Lily of the valley. You can grow them in a pot, and they look simple and elegant, yet cute. Ras: I like them, too! They're famous for being poisono--er, never mind.

Are you plotting to do anything to help the princess and Leo progress in their relationship? Nocsia: Hmm… that's a good question. What should I do? I don't think they'll appreciate any interference from me, but at the same time, I can't stand just sitting back and watching.

I want to know what kind of rumors about Neige the stepsister has heard. Nocsia: Mostly that she's a beautiful princess. She's famous internationally, you know, and I've heard that she's received many marriage proposals, all of which His Majesty has refused… And that she actually has a fiance already… Of course, these are all just rumors. Ras: Wait, you've got a fiance? You? Leo: For a genius, you certainly are stupid.

I'm curious about how the king and Nocsia's mother met. It would probably turn into a long story if I asked the king, so I want to hear the answer from Nocsia's mother! Then again, she never actually appeared in the story… Nocsia: I'll answer in her place. They got to know each other when His Majesty secretly came to our shop to buy flowers. Since he was in disguise, neither of us had even the slightest idea that he was the king. Leo: His Majesty is the kind of person who would make a habit of going out to the city in disguise, after all. Nocsia: Every time he showed up, he would order an enormous bouquet and tell us "It's a souvenir for my daughter." My mother thought it was so sweet of him.

[purringbookworm97]

A little list

So I want to move out. Truth is, I already did once, left to study, but now I'm back at my parents, trying to leave by applying for visas and jobs and all the mumbo-jumbo needed to become an adult. And it sucks, really, cuz for all my good will and the help I've been getting, I still feel stuck and unable to get a move on.

So here's a list. Of things I want to do, and will do once I become the person I want to be. Because if I can't look forward to things then what's the point, amiright?

Here we go.

I want a balcony. I don't care if my place is small. One day I'll have a balcony, and I'll sit on it amongst my potted plants, with my cat next to me and a steaming mug of tea in my hand.

Big crystals on mys shelves, and more plants, and books I love to see and read so I can feel at home even if I'm just renting a place.

A real working station for mundane and spiritual work, because mixing the two is great, but I've missed having space to be whole in one or the other this year. So an altar, and tools i like to watch and use, and that won't break before a long time.

Curios gathered in nature and processed with respect. Shed snake skin, dry bugs, wild empty eggs, dried flowers and trinkets. Things that shine and things that don't. Treasures. A whole shelf to put them all on and be proud that they're mine.

A brother or sister for my cat. He gets bored alone. He'll be so happy when I bring a little sibling home. I'll curl up on the couch with them in my lap and read them stories, and when I don't have any, we'll just cuddle and fall asleep together. Things will be fine.

Funky earrings. Some I'll make myself, some I'll buy, some I'll get from friends who don't want them anymore. I'll put spells on them, an they'll be pretty enough for me. Necklaces too, and bracelets, and pins and badges, all unique because they're old or homemade.

A few more tattoos. A pride flag, a pair of wings, sigils to protect me and let me find my way in the dark. Maybe a full circle spell if I feel the need to carry one someday. Probably a few more piercings too, and spells on them to match

Top surgery. Might not happen right away, but I'll be lighter. Feel lighter. Maybe at some point the "ma'am"'s will cease. Maybe not. At least I'll feet better. Happier. I can't wait.

Queer friends. Friends who understand what I'm going though, who've been through the same thing, who can tell me about their life and remind me not to feel too sorry for myself when I forget I'm not alone.

Witch friends too. People who read cards and know some deities and have had encounters with spirits and don't necessarily take themselves seriously about it. People who are like me. People I don't need to save. Who I need more than they need me. People who are strong and happy despite the hardships, despite the loneliness.

[severeweatheralert]

Ashes

Original short story written for a discord prompt.

The dishwasher broke today. I had Hannah over, so cooked too much, hid the take out containers in the thrash beneath produce scraps and tins of cubed tomatoes. She brought a girlfriend, all smiles, pink hair and a college T-shirt, and Hannah had that same glint in her eyes that you had in our wedding photo. It's still up on the mantle. The ashes of the fireplace beneath it are cold, now. Do you remember last Christmas? You were working the graveyard shift again, because Kyle's girlfriend had just had a baby and John had booked a flight out to see family and Mike, well, we all know not to depend on Mike. So I sat by the fireplace and told myself it wasn't Christmas. I don't think it's been lit it since.

Dinner was stilted, jagged, Hannah's girlfriend chattering over the potholes she couldn't know we stumbled into. She sat in your chair; Hannah didn't flinch when she chose it. We spoke about the weather and the news and future plans and the price of gas, nowadays, and have you seen the thing the neighbours put up in the garden? Hannah's girlfriend tried to tell me about her major and her job and I didn't hear a thing, I just saw the way Hannah looked at her, with that fondness. Your eyes in her face. I tell myself I'm too old to be jealous of young love. For all I know they'll break up next week, over a miscommunication or a perceived slight or an impending move across the country. It's those emotions that they tell me to journal about, they'll pass, they're normal. I don't want any of it to be normal. I want you to walk back in the door.

With the pasta gone and dessert politely demolished, they spilled out of the front door, into the driveway, bundled up in boiled wool coats and soft scarves. I'd have liked to close my eyes and pretend Hannah was six years old again, off to play with a friend, to regale me with tales of crocodiles and castles when she inevitably rushes back in the door again. But Hannah's at an age now where she doesn't tell her mother what kind of games she plays. What people she sees, which bars she goes to, where they end up after that. I waved them off. Their tail lights streaked red into the night, in sight one moment and round the corner the next. I lingered, a few unwise minutes, but the street stayed empty. The air still, November fast approaching. Fog reaching up from the tarmac with long, pale fingers. The neighbours across the road had a sign in their front yard, lit up in red and green, loud words in a garish font. Happy 25th anniversary!

Remember when we worried the house would be too small for us? If we wouldn't need more bedrooms, a finished basement? We could always move, you'd tell me, if we ever outgrew this stack of drywall. I'd like the house to shrink in on me, now. Stick to me like cling film. Every week I dust rooms I don't use anymore. Hannah's bedroom, frozen in time, and sometimes I sit in there and pretend she's still eighteen years old and sneaking into the house at 2AM as if we don't hear the stairs creaking. It's quiet like a church. Not even the rumbling of the dishwasher.

The dishwasher. It sat blinking tail light red and opening it unleashed a flood of water, the sickly grey of dead skin, full of chunks of god-knows-what. The half-digested dishwasher tablet stuck to a plate, and my socks were growing wet, and for a bizarre moment I was almost grateful. Something to do. So I grabbed dish towels and bright yellow lemon-scented chemicals, the mop. Stacked the remnants of the evening into the sink. The way we used to when we were still renting that apartment. Right after college. Remember how our fingers would wrinkle when we did the dishes, then? I folded half my torso into the dishwasher, pulled the filter out, rinsed off peas and see-through mushrooms, clicked it back into place. Put the racks back in, the dishes, the pots and the pans and the plates. The cutlery. Hit the button. There was the buzzing noise of water flowing in, the vague satisfaction of a job well done, but when I came back downstairs with clean socks and pants without wet patches on the knees, the light was blinking red again. I didn't think.

Your name spilled out of my mouth before I realized you were gone. I swear I almost heard you answer.

The house is all quiet, now. My hands have wrinkled. There's not even the rumbling of the dishwasher.

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eight - “hovel, sweet hovel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n arrive the shelter and take a look at what it has to offer.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: what would you like to see happen next? let me know! (p.s. this is what i pictured the shelter/hovel to look like)

"I think this is it," Bucky said, looking forward at the structure in front of them.

"That's the 'shelter?'" Y/N huffed, hopelessly annoyed.

They had been walking and jogging on and off for forty-five minutes straight. Her feet killed.

"We're... gonna die."

"We are not gonna die, Y/N."

"Look at it! That is a hovel!"

"Well, inside's better than outside," Bucky retorted. "At least no one will see us if we're in there. It looks abandoned, they'll assume it actually is.”

She sighed and followed behind Bucky into the shelter. It was a one story stone structure that looked so old and weathered. It... looked like a shed. An old ass stone shed. She briefly wondered if Wakanda had a storm season because she was almost certain this thing wouldn't withstand it.

The door let out an anticipated squeak, and she was just as disappointed to see the inside as she was the outside. Bucky put the bags down and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah... this... isn't great..."

It was just as small as it seemed. And empty. Mostly. There were a few withered shelves with dusty pots and bowls, and an even more withered attempt at a table. There was what looked like a furnace in one corner with old, rotted wood in it. The wooden floor creaked under their steps.

The whole place felt like a ghost: desolate, ancient, and lonely. Except for one peculiar thing...

"Bucky?" she beckoned.

"Hm?"

(Y/N) hadn't noticed it when she first entered, but in the middle of the table sat a small, shiny, black panther figurine. It posed on all fours, looking ferociously up at her. It looked so out of place in contrast of the eternal layer of dust on everything else.

"What is this?" she asked reaching for the one thing that didn't match.

When her hand wrapped around it, energy surged into her skin. It felt almost... alive.

"(Y/N) what-" Bucky was cut off by a sound that startled them both.

In the corner across from the furnace, a section of the floor starting moving. Wood on wood on stone was not a good sound. Nonetheless, in mere seconds, there was an opening, and if (Y/N) leaned forward, she could see stairs!

Both of them remained still, feet planted on the creaky floor. They immediately looked at each other.

"What did you do?"

"I'm... not sure. I think I opened it."

(Y/N) smirked.

"What?" Bucky asked, confusion clearly evident in his tone.

"I should've known," (Y/N) shook her head. "Shuri wouldn't have led us here unless there was something more."

She held the panther figurine as she walked towards the opening.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "We don't know that Shuri knew that was here. What if it's a trap?"

"A trap from who? I don't think anyone knows we're here except Shuri."

"I don't know. J-Just let me go first."

"Alright. After you, oh wise one," she acquiesced, voice sarcastic but endearing all the same.

Bucky tried to suppress a chuckle. "Smartass. You're the wise one."

She tried to go down the stairs, letting him go first, but apparently that wasn't enough.

"Wait, just let me go look around and I'll holler when it's all good."

"Holler? Who says holler?"

"Me. Wait here."

"Fine," she made a show of pointedly plopping down on the top step, still and waiting as he requested.

It only took about ten seconds.

"Woah..." his voice came from far away.

"What is it?!" (Y/N) leaned forward.

"You were right! Come down, you gotta see this!"

She wasted no time... and standing beside Bucky, her jaw dropped.

"Holy..."

Beneath the ground was a significantly larger, way more modernized, and highly advanced survival shelter. All equipped with smaller versions of a table, chairs, and cabinets, along with a compact freezer and miniature stove, a chest, a closet, and two sets of bunk beds. Everything was clean and looked in optimal condition. There was even a rug.

"Shuri definitely didn’t leave you with nothing," Bucky commented, still taking it all in.

"-us with nothing," she corrected, retreating back up to the shed to get the bags.

-

Later in the day, (Y/N) got a handle on the panther key and how to use it to open and close the entryway to the bunker. Once she figured it out, she kept it closed, ensuring their concealment and maximizing their safety.

Bucky had found his way into the closet, listing off the contents to (Y/N) who sat on the floor, back up against one of the bunk bed legs. She was exhausted. Her body had been assaulted by adrenaline and strenuous mortal-danger-physical-activity. Bucky seemed to be fine, though. Curse that super soldier serum. His energy was always so high.

"...oh, and here's the bedding stuff. I don't know what this is, though."

(Y/N) lethargically leaned her head over to get a good view of the closet.

She chuckled. "That's a space heater...Oh! And next to it - that's a portable AC. Makes sense. I doubt they could get electric or plumbing out here."

And her head rolled back to center, eyes closing, body exhausted.

Bucky seemed to notice. "Hey, if you're tired, I can make the beds...or at least yours if you wanna sleep now."

(Y/N) stretched her legs straight out in front of her. "No, that's okay."

She wasn't about to force her one armed friend to make a bed for her. That's just rude. Especially after he carried those bags. She felt bad; she wished she had done more.

"Nah, I don't mind. It's not like I got anything else to do," he insisted, bringing the bedding over.

(Y/N) stood, body internally complaining in aching protest. She didn't really have the energy to expertly persuade him.

"Buck, it's fine." Her voice was faint.

He didn't even stop to hesitate, seemingly determined on the task. She thought it better to just give up and let him do his thing since he was so set on it. However, the sheet was fitted and there were pillow cases, not really one-arm friendly assets. He was struggling... very clearly. (Y/N) felt even worse.

He started moving quicker, frustration jerking his arm in quick, irritated bursts as he was trying to get the sheet to stay. There was still no success.

She stepped forward gently. "Bucky..."

"Damn it!" he hissed, slamming his hand on the bed frame before forcefully standing up. His hand went to his forehead, rubbing his eyes in disappointment.

(Y/N) was a statue. She had never seen him mad before; she had no idea what to do. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't scared, she just wasn't sure what to say.

"Can't fuckin' do anything," he muttered under his breath.

She finally moved forward. "Hey, forget the bedding, it doesn't matter-"

"Yes it does," he turned. "We're hiding from a collapsed regime and I can't even make a damn bed. Plus you've done so much for me, I just wanted to help with something. I just wanted to be able to do something."

Oh. Suddenly, his anger was gone. It was replaced with a miserable helplessness. It made her chest tight; she needed to fix this.

"Buck, you don't owe me anything. I'm here because I wanted to help, not because I was expecting anything in return. And I don't know what you've been paying attention to, but I watched you carry the majority of those - heavy - bags the entire way here while simultaneously figuring out the way to the shelter while my brain was momentarily smooth. You were the voice of reason in that chaos we just escaped from, and it's a damn good thing you were so calm because I don't know if I could have handled the panic of the both of us."

"You could've," he murmured. "And I wasn't calm, I'm just used to this. I was trained for situations like this."

No, she wasn't going to lose to deflection.

"Regardless, you were a huge help. Seriously."

He still didn't look convinced.

"In fact, I feel more safe here with you than I would with Shuri and the Queen. You're like a super soldier body guard."

A look washed over his face that (Y/N) couldn't quite place. He looked at her quizzically, like he was trying to figure something out.

"You... feel safer with me?"

"That's what I said, yes."

"You're not like... worried about..."

"The Winter Soldier? No."

He sighed. "How can you be so sure? You have no idea if or when I might... you know."

"We are literally the only people here, and I don't plan on saying the trigger words. So unless you plan on saying them, I don't really think we have anything to worry about. And, even if you did 'you know,' you could definitely get away with it and no one would find the body."

He turned bright red. "What?!"

"I'm kidding! Sorry. But Bucky, you've been doing so well with me and Shuri, and honestly the Hydra programming might not even be there anymore."

"But we don't know for sure!"

"Bucky..." she pleaded, turning her head slightly as to say what is this about?

"I can't trust my own mind," he sighed looking at the floor. "I just don't wanna do anything bad. It's just - weird that you don't seem to be worried at all."

"Why is that?"

"Everyone sees me as a monster."

The room was dead silent. He wasn't looking at her, but if (Y/N) looked at him any harder, she was sure she'd burn a hole through his head. How could anyone see this man as a monster? Logically, she understood what other people saw. But personally, she couldn’t find it in her to perceive him like that. It just didn’t work. All she could find was gentleness, compassion, and sincerity.

"I can't see you as something you're not," she said, whisper soft. "I don't care if you hands are 'scarred from murder' or however you said it a few sessions ago. I trust them entirely."

He finally looked up at her, his face filled with something she couldn't quite place. It looked a bit like disbelief and then it changed into relief and then something else entirely. A slow smile crept up on his lips.

"...hand."

"What?"

"My hand. Singular. Not hands."

A deep, deep smile - to match the one on Bucky - grew on her face just before the pair started cracking up ridiculously. Perhaps this was an odd way of releasing the tension, fear, frustration, and exhaustion of the day. Nevertheless, laughter was cathartic. It was so cathartic that eventually (Y/N) could hardly catch her breath and Bucky's stomach hurt. This went on for several minutes.

In time, they both calmed down. She didn't remember when exactly it happened, but they were both sitting on the floor now. They sat in between the two bunk beds, facing one another, each back leaning against a respective bedpost.

The atmosphere was different now, but not in a bad way. It felt like 2 a.m. at a sleepover, when the conversations get drowsily deep, with slow voices and honest confessions. It was heavy eyelids and low inhibitions.

A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over her. She let her head fall slack against the bedpost, resting.

"Bucky, what were sleepovers like in the forties?" she asked softly, eyes closing ever so delicately. 

"Well," he started, getting into a story of his past with Steve and the couch cushions.

And that's how she fell asleep. Sitting on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, and listening to his voice fade out into the background of her consciousness.

If only she knew how she would wake up: laying comfortably on one of the beds, with one blanket on top of her and another below her because he couldn't get the sheet to cooperate. With the pillowcase carefully draped atop the pillow instead of enveloping it because that's what one hand would allow. With the bed next to her being slept in with no blanket because he used his as the replacement for the sheet he couldn’t get to cooperate.

[morsartis]

Lights Part 4

"You sure you want to come over tonight?" You ask as you facetime Polypa, she's somewhere downtown shopping with Boldir. The two of them hadn't told you for what but you have a feelings its for you.

"Of course. You're making spaghetti aren't you?" She asks as she glances off screen to where you can hear Boldir talking with a shop attendant.

"Yeah, figured it was a good night to stay in. Maybe watch some Netflix."

"That sounds great... Maybe we can watch Buzzfeed Unsolved too..." Boldir speaks up, face briefly appearing. She's giving you a more gentle smile and you know it has to do with the fact you'd nearly had an anxiety attack the last time the three of you had all hung out. It makes you want to squirm. Instead you glance over to check if the pot of water is boiling yet.

"Yeah. That sounds good." You agree absently. In the living room you can hear the weather forecast calling for more rain. It'd been going on steadily for two days now, a light drizzle that wouldn't let up. Usually you enjoyed the rain but tonight was calling for a sudden turn in the weather- a proper thunderstorm. They might not be able to go home if it gets truly bad.

"Do you want us to wait?" Polypa asks after a moment of silence as she walks. Her expression is understanding and open. The fact she's been so patient with you as of late causes your stomach to drop in nervousness at the thought. She wouldn't bat an eye if you told her you just wanted space.

But you don't. You want to spend time with your friends. Have dinner and watch whatever random thing catches your interests as the night goes on. But at the same time you aren't sure how you're gonna take the storm mixed with the fact that the two olive bloods will be trapped with you for the night. Swallowing those feelings down you give her a smile.

"Nah. We need to finish up Blood Battle Blockade anyway don't we?"

"True... I've heard the ending is really good."

"So have I."

The silence returns as the water finally boils and you pour in the noodles. You can hear Boldir and Polypa talking to each other as they keep you on facetime. The soothing background noise letting you relax as you set the timer. It was truly just one of those molasses slow days. A haze of lethargy falling over everything. You prop your phone on the jar of tomato sauce so you can still see what they're up to as you chop garlic. They're outside now, huddled under an umbrella as they walk. You'd only taken your eyes off your phone for a moment when you hear Polypa curse and Boldir suck in a breath. Glancing up you can see the way Polypa has pulled the phone closer to herself, only able to see her chin and her coat. The hair on the back of your neck raises as Polypa speaks to someone you can't see. You stand there frozen straining to hear the other person. "Who are you talking to Polypa?"

The knife clatters onto the chopping board as you suck in a panicked breath. You aren't ready to see anyone else. Not today. Not right now. You miss Polypa's reply as he takes her phone. You can't get your body to move, rooted to the spot as a new face comes into view. Teal eyes go wide behind his glasses and you watch him suck in a surprised breath.

"Give that back Tegiri!" Boldir snaps and you watch the camera blur as she obviously wrestles him for it.

"What is going on? You found them?" He sounds so hurt as he speaks but the guilt hardly registers over the overwhelming terror.

Teals talk.

Boldir's face comes into view, then Polypa's, then Tegiri's as they fight over the phone the camera as blurred as your thoughts. Your hands shake as you fumble for your own phone. Pressing end call you sink down onto the floor. They'll know. They'll know and they'll look for you and then they'll be at your door and- the shrill beep of the timer interrupts your spiral and you jump to turn it off. You aren't ready but the universe does not care about that. Straining the noodles you put them back in the pot and add the tomato sauce. You have to stop thinking about that. You need a distraction. Something else to focus on other than the sense of dread.

When you set the table its for a dinner of four. You sincerely hope that's all there will be tonight.

[urban-witch101]

(Byakuya Togami x Reader? That's how this idea started.) - Danganronpa 1 Ghost AU - "They Failed."

Oh it's as funky as it sounds. Just trust me on this one. Also, big fat Trigger Warning for assault, s3xual assault, murder, and angst.

Hope's Peak Academy is reportedly the most haunted high school in Japan. After the Most Tragic Incident the world had ever seen, the class of 78 was forced into a recorded killing game run by their fellow classmates Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba and failed to survive. The Future Foundation, after eventually beating Despair and restoring peace to the world, established the high school as a National Monument to the pain and suffering of the students and turned it into a museum recording the history.

There are too many stories of the passed students to count, some from construction workers and some from ghost hunters. These are their sightings.

============================================

Yasuhiro Hagakure is reportedly the most active ghost, which makes sense as the Ultimate Clairvoyant.

He tends to greet visitors at the entrance.

If you drop your hat or gloves and don't notice, you'll find them by the coat rack later for you to find.

Children tend to see him the most, or they hear a whispered joke in their ear if they're particularly upset at any of the Despair history.

He doesn't tend to interact with adults a lot, but he's known to follow the descendants of all their relatives or friends to make sure they're okay.

10/10 ghost, very friendly and a chill dude. Makes sure kids are okay.

Toko Fukawa is rarely seen or heard, but if she's there you know.

She hangs out in the bathrooms with the most common sightings being in the mirrors.

She's often found playing with her braids or grimacing at guests if there are a lot of people.

The friendliest sighting was when a child got lost and found their way to the women's bathroom.

When the panicked mother finally found them, their child was calm and content while playing with a stuffed toy they know they didn't bring.

When the child was guided to leave, they turned and waved goodbye to the mirror.

8/10, antisocial but harmless.

Genocider Syo is extremely active.

She likes pulling pranks on tall, skinny men, like throwing their wallets across the room and pinching their elbows.

If said men are blonde with blue eyes, they will tend to feel watched whenever the enter the building and will continue to think so until they leave.

Children tend to be scared of her, but if she sees a scared child she'll tend to leave the room so they're more comfortable.

She likes knocking over stuff, books and coffee mugs in particular.

However, if the staff scold her she'll knock it off.

She never knocks over artifacts, but people have seen her scissors rattle in their case.

8/10, harmless prankster.

Leon Kuwata can be found in the First-Floor Dorms.

People report hearing guitar strings playing in the boys bathrooms.

If someone mentions baseball around his dorm, mirrors and glass will crack or straight up shatter.

Paranormal investigators once spent the night in his old room, but they "forgot" to take off their shoes and slept above the covers.

They woke up with a blanket that hadn't been in the room covering them and their shoes neatly placed by the side of the door.

That same investigator used a Spirit Box to try and talk to him about what happened in the school.

Of course their older generations saw what happened live, but they never spoke of it.

"Do you have anything you need to say?"

"I'm so sorry."

6/10, ow.

Hifumi Yamada can be found in the kiln room in the Art Studio.

People hear camera clicks, as if he's still taking pictures.

Pencils will roll when the floor is completely flat.

He likes messing with the kiln and knocking off the hammers.

He loves playing the flashlight game.

If anyone mentions Celestia Ludenburg, people swear the room falls into a heavy and tense silence.

When everyone leaves the kiln, they feel his conflicting pain.

Anger? Sadness? They don't know. He's still grieving.

6/10, more ow.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is silent unless he needs to talk.

He only talks if you do something wrong.

He doesn't play any of the games.

If you run in the museum, people swear they hear a loud voice telling them to stop.

If the staff breaks the rules at all, they straight up get smacked in the shoulder.

Groups of friends, particularly men, feel very welcome in his dorm room.

They all leave after a friendly, invisible squeeze is given to them on the arm.

6/10, he'll never change.

Mondo Owada has one reported sighting.

When construction to restore the building was going on, there was an incident between a worker and a girl on the street one afternoon.

He took her behind the building and attempted to hurt her.

A man in a Crazy Diamond gang jacket, which it should be noted that it doesn't exist anyore, pulled him off and hit him with a pick axe.

After the assaulter was unconscious, her savior didn't say a word; he looked at the girl up and down, presumably checking her for injuries, and passed her a card with a phone number before nodding to her and walking off.

It was the local s3xual assault line, which had been established only two years prior.

After she called the number, she was never able to find the card again.

She didn't even put two and two together until she visited the finished museum and saw Mondo's picture.

No one has ever seen him since.

10/10, badass.

Sayaka Maizono is in one of the boy's bathrooms in the dorms.

Visitors report feeling unnerved or even scared when they enter the bathroom.

She will not interact with you.

She doesn't like playing any of the games. Do not turn on the spirit box in her bathroom, the shower glass will crack.

One investigator decided to spend the night in the bedroom and turned on the shower in the morning.

When they got out, there was a message written in the fog on the mirror.

"LEON."

1/10, no fucking thank you.

Aoi Asahina hangs around the pool room.

She's reportedly like Hiro.

She's been seen walking the halls everywhere.

Children love visiting the pool room. They tend to feel excited and safe.

At night you can hear the pool splashing when no one is inside.

She has one recorded incident.

A child brought a small bag of donut holes to snack on.

Said child began to complain that "the air" kept pulling the donut holes out of his hands.

So they ran an experiment.

They dropped one on purpose and watched it roll away towards the pool room. After that, they didn't feel anymore pulls.

Now it's a tradition to leave a donut for her on Obon by the pool room or her dorm room.

Staff report donuts pulling themselves apart to share. If staff take a half that is offered, the treats are always gone by the next morning.

9/10, a whole mood.

Chihiro Fujisaki is relatively quiet.

They can be found in the boy's locker rooms by the pool.

People will smell a slight perfume over the chlorine.

Muscular men in particular will feel an odd sense of guilt when entering.

There was a guest, who was a muscular man, who took out their phone to record the room and listened back to it to find bits and pieces of the audio were gone.

They took it to a friend who deciphered it into a message in Morse code.

"I forgive you."

9/10, holy ow.

Celestia Ludenburg is only active in the kitchen.

Investigators have put on a full pot of tea water with no heat on the stove.

If they leave and come back, they'll find the pot whistling with the heat still off. The water is always the perfect temperature.

She is never active at night.

She'll only use the spirit box on Obon, but you have to make her a cup of milk tea first.

She's very picky about it.

There was one who got it right on the first try.

"Well finally," the box picked up. "Have some."

She will share details only she would know.

"I don't want to be rude, but do you have any regrets?"

A moment of silence. The cup on the table left for her shakes for just a moment.

"I have too many."

6/10, talkative but be careful.

Kyoko Kirigiri has never talked, but you'll hear her.

Staff will hear her heels clicking in the halls at night.

She likes writing in people's notebooks.

Random strangers will enter with an empty pocketbook and leave with a full one.

She loves to write.

She tells her side of the story.

If the mirrors ever fog up, she's there scratching out letters and numbers.

She also turns on the coffee pot in the kitchen.

Intuitive teenagers tend to know when she's there because they feel safer in rooms that people normally aren't comfortable in.

She writes clues to all the murders that she was never able to solve.

She's not done yet. She's made it very clear that she is not at peace.

9/10, talkative and informative.

Sakura Ogami is said to be hanging around in the recreational room where she committed suicide.

Children feel safe in there, but they never play with the old equipment.

There is an unspoken rule among them that they all know and have never discussed as soon as they walk in.

Some thrill-seekers sit in her chair.

They report feeling their head throbbing and intense nausea, some even passing out from the pain.

They also report intense guilt.

One child sat in the seat without thinking about it and they reported being fine but feeling a little sad.

She plays the flashlight game with investigators, but only if they're nice.

One turned on a spirit box and gave her a cup of tea on Obon.

"Thank you."

8/10, don't sit in her fucking chair you dumbass.

Mukuro Ikusaba is heard rarely.

Like Mondo, she has one reported calling.

In the gym, late at night, you can hear a quiet sobbing.

Children will hear a crying girl in their head:

"I didn't want this."

3/10, how is this even more ow.

Junko Enoshima is heard in the execution room.

Staff used to think there were multiple ghosts in there, but it turns out it's just her.

She laughs, cries, and shrieks.

The story is that she killed herself with her own executions after succeeding in the killing game.

At night investigators play the flashlight game with her.

Every visitor is always unnerved by her.

There is an unspoken bitterness towards her.

She doesn't deserve her success.

0/10, scary bitch.

Makoto Naegi is seen everywhere.

The Ultimate Lucky Student loves telling his story.

He's seen in windows and mirrors with his hoodie and a warm smile.

He's always kind and welcoming.

People leave him popular snacks at his dorm room on Obon.

He never speaks, he just likes watching everyone learn about them.

If children ever get lost he leads them back to their parents.

They'll always tell their family about the "nice boy with brown hair" who takes their hand gently and leads them to safety.

He feels a duty to protect the staff. They never feel alone at night. He's always there to keep them safe.

The descendant of Komaru Naegi, who happened to be a paranormal investigator, once spent the night in his old dorm room.

She reported hearing quiet crying and sniffling that morning before she opened her eyes and was flooded with a sense of relief.

Oh thank god, she was okay.

10/10, heart of gold.

Byakuya Togami is seen in one room and one room only.

He is the only one that people regularly see in the flesh as a full figure.

He's sitting in the library, reading a murder mystery novel.

He has never acknowledged any of the guests, except for one.

A small child, a descendant of Togami's old butler, gently knocked on the table to get his attention and waved politely. They thought he was a staff member.

He looked up at them, gave a little wave back, and went back to his book.

When they turned away and looked back, he was gone.

Staff will see him walking back to his room when the museum is closing up.

He's snobby, sure, but he has his manners. He won't purposefully get in the way of the staff.

9/10, super chill.

???

There is an unknown ghost that has one known/recorded interaction.

One night a paranormal investigator spent the night exploring the building.

They walked in the library to see Togami with a book and a lamp on that was previously off.

They nodded at him politely and went to the bookshelves to "find a book". They turned on a spirit box and stayed quiet.

The library door opened and closed.

They hear a passing conversation.

"Hello love."

A kiss, presumably on the knuckles.

"How was today?"

"Tiring", says a voice. "Lot of cleaning. Did you get any visitors?"

A chuckle. "Too many. I think they can see me."

"Probably."

A pause.

"Togami?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think they'll ever figure out what really happened here?"

Hesitance. "For their sake, I hope not."

============================================

Feedback would be lovely. Thank you for your time!

[codename-mango]

Clarice's Story - Season 2

I recently finished Clarice's canon route in Season 2, and I'm currently replaying Season 3 to give myself a refresher on Seb and nail down the details of Clarice's story in that Season. So this will have a Part 2, but I want to write out the decisions made that ultimately led to The Least Satisfying Ending of Season 2™, and the reasons behind them that are informed by her past and personality. I know I care more about this than literally anyone, but I'm doing it anyway. So let's get started!

Before the Villa

Raised by Ursula, a famous actress with Antisocial Personality Disorder. She was very loving to Clarice, but wanted her to grow a hard shell like she did.

Ursula gets a participation trophy in parenting for trying her best, but alas, Clarice has severe anxiety that she can't properly express.

Didn't have any friends before going on the show.

Clarice applied for the show with the hope of finding someone nice, though she had very low expectations. She expected all the girls (and fans) to hate her because she went in planning to be ruthless. She was very aware that her mother will be watching, and wanted to make her proud.

Day 1

Friendly to Hope right off the bat - No reason not to be, right?

"I need to look after Number 1." - Clarice isn't underhanded. She tries to be as honest as possible, and this is no exception. The girls need to know where she stands.

"I'm more the quiet and mysterious type." - Outside the Villa, Clarice is much more reserved due to her upbringing.

Picked Noah - He's handsome and doesn't try some cheesy line right off the bat.

Objected to Hope picking him immediately - First day and she's already been screwed over. Her pride is hurt, and she's not going to take this lying down.

Thought Bobby was nice, but there was blatantly no sparks there. He didn't even step forward. She gave him no illusions that she's interested, and flirted with Noah and the other boys at every opportunity. Prioritized grafting over making friends.

However, she welcomed Priya and condemned Lottie for being unnecessarily nasty.

Clarice didn't make any outright enemies except Hope for stealing Noah.

Participated in Lottie's celebration of the Moon - Strategically important to be civil with the girls of course

Day 2

Stayed friendly with Priya, and tried to be with Lottie

Confronted Priya for stealing Bobby - Yeah, she didn't like Bobby herself, but this was the second time she'd had her partner stolen. She was angry and embarrassed.

Day 3

Helped Hannah during breakfast and encouraged her to toughen up - This isn't Friend Island.

Told Rocco to pick her - It wasn't enough to steal Bobby back. She didn't even like him. But there was no chance of getting Noah back from Hope. Rocco was her real second choice on Day 1, and taking him helps her save face.

Told Hannah that Gary won't choose her - She thinks Hannah is totally naive, but has been friendly thus far and respected her couple.

Day 4

"If there's no spark, you've got problems."

Insisted Gary apologizes to Marisol

Grinded on Noah during the Slime Challenge - She's not sure if she's actually interested in him yet, or if she's just trying to piss off Hope.

Spoke up for Priya doing the same thing, and ignores Lottie

Tried to keep the peace between Lottie and Priya, and helps them resolve the issue - It's easier to live in the Villa without needless drama. Clarice's anxiety is hiked up enough as it is.

Day 5

Clarice went down to the pool alone to meet Lucas and Henrik - Why wouldn't she?

While she never cheated on Rocco, she did connect with Lucas like she never had with anyone before. She found him charming and kind and admired his humility despite his obviously posh background.

She definitely suspected Marisol and Rocco having a thing, but hoped he would talk to her about it before acting on it.

Day 6

Clarice was furious about Rocco kissing Marisol during the Kiss and Tell challenge.

She confronted Marisol afterwards, but wasn't aggressive about it. Marisol was by far the girl she's closest to in the Villa at that point. Despite feeling hurt, she wasn't about to ruin the start of a genuine friendship over a man.

Day 7

Worked with Lottie to ice out Rocco, but does agree to speak with him privately.

She was honest about why the girls were upset with him, and unleashed a bit of fury upon him.

Helped Noah win Mr. Love Island - She started to genuinely connect with him and found him very sweet, even though she thought his devotion to Hope was over the top and completely irrational.

Day 8

Extremely worried about the Mean Tweets challenge. She's had more than her fair share of Mean Tweets outside the Villa. She was worried how she came across to the public. She was even worried the producers would throw in one of her mother's.

Oh yeah, Ursula livetweets every episode.

If I had to include one of her tweets in the challenge, it would be:

"It's like Bobby isn't even trying"

She hated that Lucas went home. He was the one person besides Noah that she could see herself having feelings for.

Day 9

Confused by why Lottie wants to get with Gary, but doesn't say anything discouraging. Agrees to not pick him at the next recoupling.

Picked Noah to go on the date - They turn out to have great chemistry, and Clarice was even hopeful that she might be able to choose him at the recoupling.

Clarice fell back on picking Henrik after Hope chose Noah. She didn't see herself with any of the other OG guys.

Day 10

Clarice agreed to work with Priya on Operation Nope - She wanted to be with Noah, and this was the perfect opportunity to really crack on with him. Obviously she knew that Priya fancied him too, but may the best woman win, right?

She didn't tell anyone about ON.

She actually related to Hope acting snappy out of fear, but Hope's insistence on focusing on her rubbed Clarice the wrong way. She tried finding a common ground, and Hope ignored the gesture. She used that as (very poor) justification for...

Clarice kissed Noah. She knew they were having a moment, and went for it. She regretted it after he panicked and left.

Clarice dodged Chelsea's first hug - Why would she want a total stranger touching her without asking?? Though she sort of regrets it in hindsight, because of how close they are now.

"So he's just going to pretend he's innocent then?"

Day 11

She downplayed the severity of Lottie's kiss with Gary - "Hannah only knew him for 3 days." Besides, she's not a hypocrite who would condemn someone else for doing the same thing she did.

Said no to helping Bobby and Marisol resolve the conflicts in the Villa - She didn't trust herself to not make things worse. If things get better, then they'll get better on their own.

Brought Hope the hot chocolate - She knew she was one of the biggest reasons Hope was miserable. They didn't get along, but Clarice never did any of it to hurt Hope. That being said...

She refused to apologize - That's not the kind of woman Ursula raised. She needed to remind herself that she is her Number 1 priority.

Clarice barely interacted with Jakub. He was never her type.

She did apologize to Henrik. She had an obligation to communicate her feelings to him, and didn't. So she apologized. She told him that she fancied Noah and wanted to pursue him, and they broke up.

Bobby was the one to come comfort her and start grafting. She shut it down pretty quickly.

After Marisol asked about it, Clarice told the truth and that she wasn't interested in him. Marisol asked who she is interested in, and she told her Ibrahim just to put a stop to the conversation.

Day 12

Clarice eavesdropped on Noah's conversation with Priya. She was so excited that Noah said he had feelings for her, and that it was all worth it.

No secret of Clarice's was exposed during the Down in Dirt challenge. But if Henrik had opened hers despite her insistence not to, it would've read:

"Clarice was once escorted out of her own great-aunt's pub."

Clarice insisted Priya apologize and make peace with Hope, but refused to back down herself after it came out that Noah wanted to pick her.

"Priya stirring the pot and getting away with it. Can't say I disapprove."

Day 13

Clarice ate the whole cake. Canonically. I don't care, it's one of my favorite parts of the game.

Clarice coupled up with Noah at the Disaster Recoupling.

She was so excited to finally be coupled up with him. She savored every kiss and every touch. That was it for her.

Day 14

Said goodbye to Noah before sneaking off to Casa Amor

The only guy who caught her interest was Kassam, but he clearly wasn't interested, so she never acted on it.

Arjun was basically the leftovers from the other girls, and he seemed like he would be respectful of her space, so Clarice ended up with Arjun for the entirety of Casa Amor. (Even though he didn't give her nearly enough space for her liking.)

Day 15

Clarice didn't volunteer for any extra Villa vs. Villa challenges.

Clarice insisted on remaining loyal to Noah throughout CA.

She enjoyed getting closer to the girls, but was otherwise very reserved.

Day 16

Clarice indulged in Lottie's tea reading, but refused to believe it.

Clarice was shocked by the video the girls received, but still refused to believe Noah would go and sleep with another girl. He wouldn't do that to Hope, and he wouldn't do that to her.

She tried to comfort Hope the rest of the time there. Hope was obviously still upset about the Disaster Recoupling, but she appreciated that Clarice had remained loyal during CA.

Day 17

Clarice spent breakfast with Kassam. She really enjoyed it.

Clarice stuck with Noah.

Day 18

Obviously, Clarice was hurt by Noah bringing back Blake.

Ursula had this to say about Blake's "trying so hard" comment:

"The cheek of this one. Good luck with your career after this, babe."

Looking back, she regards it as karma. Something she deserved.

She didn't really know how to handle it. She kept her distance from Blake as much as possible.

Agreed with Shannon that you get what you deserve in the Villa - She thinks about this conversation often, especially after how she finished the season.

Helped the girls figure out what happened while they were away, and sort of regretted it after...

Noah went back to Hope. Clarice's grievances were ignored and criticized. She was frustrated and hurt.

Clarice saved Elijah from the dumping. She thought maybe she could start to move on from Noah with him.

She said goodbye to Priya, and sort of hated Bobby for letting her be sent home.

She had her first anxiety attack at the Villa that night. Gary and Chelsea were the only ones who knew about it, because they were the ones who stayed up with her until she calmed down.

Day 19

Confided in Chelsea and Shannon that she wished she could've been with Noah

Rather than Shannon teaching her how to read body language, Clarice challenged her to another game of 2 Truths 1 Lie, claiming Ursula raised a perfect liar. (She lost. But Shannon said she should try poker.)

Day 20

Scrambled eggs! It was the only kind Ursula could ever make.

Clarice was nervous about the arrival of Elisa and Jo. Although Jo seemed friendly enough, and Elisa was someone she briefly worked with before.

Didn't agree to talk to Ibrahim for Shannon after the double dates - Shannon needed to talk to him herself. And if he lies, why waste your time with him?

Insisted that Jo be given some space; Defended Chelsea while disagreeing with her actions

Day 21

Had to take multiple breaks from the girls day out - Good lord the fighting was exhausting and nerve-wracking

Helped Hope untangle the mess

Laughed out loud when Jo called her a people pleaser - "I might just be adopted then!"

"A people pleaser! Good on you, love!"

Legitimately almost cried when Chelsea called her amazing??? And when Hope praised her for taking the high road??? She might actually be a good person????

Got the girls to all make up

Cooked 🌟creamy garlic pasta🌟 for the group with Elijah

Started thinking she might have a chance with Noah again

Day 22

Asked Elijah to choose her at the Recoupling - Gave no promises that they'd be the next epic love story

Pining for Noah...

Day 23

Agreed to help Rahim ask Jo to be his girlfriend - Mainly for Noah's sake, because they're best friends

Went shopping with Elijah - Got Jo's nachos, chocolate, and blanked Elijah's flirtations

First pillow fort!

Grinded on Noah's lap during the Heartrate Challenge, then went to Elijah

Went to bed early

Day 24

Excited and relieved to have Lucas back!

Hugged Hannah upon her arrival - Overall, she was proud of Hannah for coming back more willing to get what she wanted.

Named the spider Todd

Reassured Lottie about Hannah

Clarice reassured Elijah after her date, but went up to the terrace and kissed Lucas.

Later at the party, she went back and slept with him. - After he came back, she thought maybe she was finally over Noah. She can be with Lucas and finally be happy in a couple. And she definitely rushed it.

Day 25

She told Elijah everything, and she felt horrible that he was more into her than she was into him.

Confessed to the girls after

Obviously bombed the Happily Ever After challenge

Clarice was left to couple up with Lucas.

Day 26

She was noticeably distant from Lucas - She wrote it off as guilt for cheating with him, though she was still happy to be coupled up with him.

Lottie's snide comments about her cheating made her distance herself from Lottie too.

Became Bra Sisters with Chelsea! And made up a handshake!

Lost the Couple Trouble challenge, so she and Lucas didn't go on the date in the Hideaway

Talking to Gary about his body image and therapy inspired her to go to therapy herself once the show was over. She really related to him when he said this:

Helped Marisol pack - Marisol was still one of her closest friends in the Villa. And she honestly thought it should've been her and Lucas going home.

Day 27

Babies? P A N I C M O D E!!

Clarice does want kids in the future, but doesn't trust herself to not fuck them up.

Very irritated by Lucas's refusal to help with the baby. It stressed her out more than it really needed to, so their unsteady relationship took a hit.

The beach break was a relief. And by the end of it, she was really happy to have made actual friends on the show.

Sent Ibrahim and Jo home - Sure, they're a better couple, but Chelsea is her emotional support bra!

Day 28

Finally got to talk to her mother. She "praised" Clarice for not letting "peer pressure" stop her from getting the guy she really wanted. (It was really a reminder that she still doesn't have him, and she should still go for him. However, what Ursula called peer pressure is what most people consider respecting relationship boundaries.)

Felt awkward talking to Lucas's family

Said no to being his girlfriend at the Final Date - They hadn't been together long enough, and his text conversation with Ursula was fine, but cryptic.

Privately relieved that Noah hadn't asked Hope to be his girlfriend yet

Day 29

Dress shopping was... An experience. She's definitely not unfamiliar with formal wear, but she spent a long time deciding who she should dress for. She ultimately chose a dress she knew Lucas would like.

Hopeless at dancing. She never got any of the steps right.

She tried to be as lighthearted with the speech as possible - She has a hard time opening up, and really, there wasn't many deep feelings to express for him.

Jumped in the pool

Sent Hannah and Elijah home - It was a tough decision, and it came down to Lottie and Gary's relationship being stronger.

Went up to the terrace with Noah, but she decided she was done with him leading her on, struggling to make a decision. She ended it once and for all, as opposed to sleeping with him.

Day 30

Still reeling from the night before

Helped Chelsea make breakfast - She told Chelsea that she wasn't feeling confident in her couple and their chance of winning.

Clarice and Lucas made it all the way to the end, but Noah and Hope won Love Island.

Lucas acted happy to be with Clarice until they went back to the Villa for the After Party. Then, he dumped her. - Clarice was furious, but she felt as though she absolutely deserved it.

Noah decided it would be best if they stayed away from each other.

Clarice told Hannah about what Lucas did, and Hannah promised to give him hell. That solidified their friendship for after the show.

Clarice pulled Chelsea aside, Chelsea nicked a bottle of champagne for them, and confessed everything to her. Her thing with Noah, his lingering looks, the terrace, Lucas acting for the cameras, everything.

Clarice went home with her mother. And cried almost the entire way to the airport.

After the Villa

She faced backlash for her actions in the Villa, but the Islanders she befriended came to her defense.

She had a long talk with Hope after everyone had a chance to watch the season back. It was a miracle Hope and Noah won, considering how much of his time with Clarice had been included in episodes. Hope broke up with him shortly after, and she and Clarice started to repair what they could. They agreed that they absolutely would've been friends if Clarice had made different choices. But for now, they're just being civil.

Ursula apologized for all the biting remarks about people in the Villa, except Noah and Lucas.

Clarice managed to keep her from running a full on smear campaign against them.

Clarice started therapy, and even got anti-anxiety medication.

The producers of Love Island offered her a second chance.

[border-spam]

-- Uroboros log - Encrypted E-Call - Or8cle / S0litar3 - source Commercial trade vessel ID 122-J-Prom / Cpt - Seifa A’rosk / SAVED blame=GKT --

(Mid CoV, Ven belongs to @hieroglyphix and JK to @godkingsanointed)

See - I mean of all hthe things. Of all the things you coudl have warned me about in the last what. 4 years now of this? Of telling each other things tht mattered? You could have said nt to take a swing at Troy's stupid fucking face.

See - Hurts so much to type this. God excuse the typos tbh im not doing grea t.

See - I got everything I need tho I'm gd. Take it you know where IM heading yeah? Figure as much at least. I hope this was the right call, Ven. I really hope this was the right choice. Weird cause ive run this through so many times in my head u kno? Wexactly stept by step what I'd do what would happen where I’d go. Shit packed up and stored for a year now, but hey you do actually know that, huh.

See - Feles like my stomach is gone, dropped out of me somewhere back in the cathedral or something. Feels like imnot really here like this whole thing is a dream and I'll waitke up at my desk with a 20 messages I cba reading and a pot of takeout noodles one of you left for me. This doesn’t feel real but it is aint it. Nothing outside the hull cept empty space and silence.

See - Never thought I'd hatee silence, Ven. Wish you were here filling it.

See - Look after JK. Watch out fo rthem. please. Eli is good I;m not worried, you always got Eli, Eli will outlive me I think, probably all of us with how loved he is. But watch out for JK primise me. They love Troy so much that they'll try and pull the monster off his back and that thing is going to be screaming now, Ven. That thing is going to be looking fo sr someone to rip in half and it's not me anymore stanidng in the way of it because I couldn't do it anymore.

See - I'm so fucking sorry man I couldn't do it. Not anymore. I coldnt. Put it off for so long but he was taking everything I had and there was so little left, and then what WAS left he .. he hurt tonight so bad.

See - Been crying for hours now bit Im not really crying you know? tears just dripping down. Can't stop them. Stupid really, eyes hurt.

See - Ven you ever think how funny it would be if verything had been juwt that bit different? Like not this not the COV. Us tho we could have. Like think about it we'd be unstoppable, me and you hahaha. We'd run this fucking galazuy if we wanted, can you imagine. Some bar somewhere we own with a lil casino, luck always somehow on our side? PAir of us could have wrapped anyone we wanted round our fingers we'd be a joke. We'd be terrifying. Could have owned shithoels like Pandora with a little time and a little work. Scam the riches off all those bastards, fucking XAN, oh my god. Leave the prick with nothing, man it would have been so eASY for me and you. Just me and you.

See - Could have saved some kids. Worn ourselves as who we were proud and free not hidden under rules and titles and whatever the hell kind of fake Gods we tried to walk the paths of. It would have been funny wouldn't it Ven, me and you.

See - But Then I think, you know? About how that affects everything tlese. Eli? Without this life Eli wouldn't be here would he. Not now.

See - God sorry, my hand is killing me I'm putting on speech to text.

See - Would JK be alive? Would they have found their lady and their family at all without that cancerous bullshit of a life we joined.

See - And with what he is now still, Troy wouldn't. I know that. Maybe Ty would be, and idk if she would even be something I could CALL Ty, but he'd be dead. I don't know if what I am is worth that. If like. My happiness in some other life, some other choices, is worth all these losses.

See - Maybe that's what it means to care, right? Me and you we get that, don't we. Caring so much about people you want to tell yourself you don't need but you deep down know damn well you'll fade away without. Maybe it means you always sacrifice yourself in the end, your choices, what you could be, what someone else could be with you, all for the people you find yourself loving.

See - Ven I am very drunk right now this was meant to dull the pain till I got base side but whew.

See - Wish this thing had emojis

See - :ass:

See - aww man.

See - Listen.

See - Don't hate him. I think maybe you already can't because you knew, all along, warned me what 2 years ago? Knew and I still saw the way you'd look at him like he was that kind of horrifically embarrassing younger teen brother who's insisted on hanging out with your friends and is SO cringe but you all kinda love him anyway? I know that haha. Don't hate him. You had a terrible life, but Ven, he's had none. Nothing.

See - Idk how much he's told you really, it's not for me to tell, and if you don't know everything, like how they grew up, what happened when they first got here, the things he had to do to make sure she would be happy? Find out. Wait till the monster subsides and he's broken and alone and just. Take that chance. Find out.

See - No one ever really understood why I put up with it all for as long as I could, and I guess I still sound like a moron rn when ur reading this. But if you know, I think you'll understand.

See - Cause me and u Ven. We are so close. man. We are so the same. You're better than I could ever be, but you understand who I am, and if you can understand who I am, you'll understand why I can’t give up on him once you know.

See - Tell E I love him so much. I'll be off grid for a while, gimme a week ok, and then I'll send a vid call and we can all talk.

See - Sorry I won't make it tonight.

See - Sorry, Ven.

-- Encrypted contact ends --