#that's some cliché crap right there

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

♡ Dabi ♡

Dabi, maintaining his usual nonchalant demeanor, brushes off Valentine's Day as insignificant. "It's just another day," he grumbles when you inquire about plans, his gaze fixed on something distant.

Despite his indifference towards the holidays of any kind, Dabi ensures that you feel loved every day. He might not express it verbally, but through his actions, like a gentle touch or a shared glance, he conveys his affection.

Dabi, surprisingly in touch with emotions, recognizes that you might have different expectations for Valentine's Day. "I get it, you want some romantic crap. Fine," he reluctantly admits, acknowledging the importance it holds for you.

Instead of traditional gifts, Dabi puts thought into finding something unique that resonates with you. It could be a rare book, a piece of artwork, or an item related to your hobbies. "I figured you'd like this better than some cliché crap, doll," he remarks.

During the day, Dabi might express his affection in subtle ways. A brush of his fingers against yours, a lingering glance, a warm hug, a rare smile or a shared cigarette.

Dabi, not one for grand gestures, suggests spending quality time together. "We can do whatever you want."

Dabi prefers low-key activities, so he suggests a casual day out rather than an extravagant date. It could be a stroll through a less crowded part of town or a visit to a place that holds personal significance.

Dabi values private moments over public displays of affection. He might pull you aside for a quiet conversation or a shared moment away from prying eyes, kissing you passionatelly in an alley after picking the order from your favourite restaurant.

In the evening, Dabi might create a quiet, intimate atmosphere. He pulls you close, whispering, "I'm not good with words, but you know what you mean to me, right?" His actions speak louder than any declaration.

The evening is peaceful, just the two of you, enjoying each other's company without the need for excessive words.

♡ Shigaraki ♡

Shigaraki openly expresses his disdain for Valentine's Day, dismissing it as a celebration that glorifies something horrific. "It's just a stupid, commercialized excuse to sell crap. I don't get the hype," he grumbles.

Despite his aversion, when he notices your excitement for the occasion, Shigaraki chooses to bite his tongue.

In a rare show of consideration, Shigaraki instructs Kurogiri to order a bouquet of your favorite flowers from the local florist. This act of embracing the holiday, even reluctantly, is his way of showing that he cares about your happiness.

"I don't get why people like this crap, but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to change my mind."

Shigaraki, true to his personality, prefers a minimalist celebration. Instead of grand gestures, he might suggest a quiet evening or a simple dinner, keeping the focus on the two of you without succumbing to excessive sentimentality.

He ensures that all the League of Villains members are assigned unexpected additional missions, even though they may express their discontent. Shigaraki wants to spend this day with you only.

As the day progresses, Shigaraki might quietly observe your joy. "You better appreciate this. I don't do this for just anyone," he remarks, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, showing that your happiness matters to him.

For the evening, Shigaraki proposes an anti-romantic movie night, selecting films that defy typical romantic clichés. "None of that sappy stuff. Let's watch something that doesn't make my teeth hurt," he suggests.

As you drift into slumber nestled in his embrace, he delicately traces patterns on your back with his pinky cautiously elevated to prevent any accidental decay. "I love you, little Y/N," he whispers, even though he's well aware that you're already lost in the realm of dreams.

♡ Bakugo ♡

Valentine's Day, according to Bakugo, is a bothersome and superficial affair, hiding behind a facade of fake sentimentality. Ranting about the superficiality of the day, Katsuki loudly declares, "I don't need some capitalist crap to tell me when to appreciate someone, tsk!"

"It's a dumb day. Why should I care?" Initially dismissing the idea of celebrating, he flaunted his lack of interest until the sight of your disappointment shattered his nonchalant façade.

Experiencing a pang in his chest, he noticed your lower lip trembling as you tried to assure him that you didn't need to participate. Even though he often expressed his emotions through actions, he couldn't shake the feeling that this time might be different.

With a resigned sigh, he swallows his pride, extending a genuine apology. He confesses to a change of heart, "Look, I changed my damn mind. No harm in spending time together or making this stupid day special, I guess. You're important or whatever."

Bakugo, true to himself, plans unconventional celebration. "If we're gonna do this, we'll do it my goddamn way. Tsk, I heard there's a place with those damn fluffy dogs. Don't get any ideas, I just thought it might be amusing or something," he grumbles, leading you to a Shiba cafe.

Bakugo finds himself in a rare, awkward position as one of the dogs playfully jumps on him. "Stupid mutt, get off!" he protests, but you catch a fleeting, embarrassed smile as he secretly enjoys the canine attention.

As you both sip coffee surrounded by Shiba Inu companions, Bakugo, unaccustomed to public displays of affection, reaches for your hand under the table and rubs its top with his thumb while drinking his espresso.

The sheer joy on Bakugo's face as a Shiba snuggles against him is a sight to behold. He attempts to hide it with a dismissive comment, "They're just damn dogs, but whatever, they're kinda cute, I guess."

Upon arriving home, Bakugo could catch you off guard by presenting a dessert skillfully shaped like a heart. "It's stupid, but fine. You better eat it," he grumbles, a touch of pride in his eyes surfacing as you commend his cooking prowess.

As the day draws to a close, Bakugo may catch you off guard with an unforeseen tender moment – enfolding you in his sturdy arms, drawing you snugly against his robust chest. He gently massages your shoulders and plants affectionate kisses on your face. "I love you, Y/N. Make sure you never forget that," he declares, his words carrying a sincerity that transcends his usual gruff demeanor.

♡ Shoto ♡

While Shoto may come across as indifferent to Valentine's Day, the truth is, he's like a child eagerly anticipating a visit to a candy store, envisioning a day filled with profound love shared with you.

Shoto brims with an unusual level of excitement, eager to shower you with pampering and spoils. While he typically engages in such gestures, this time, he has elaborate plans under wraps – surprises that would catch you off guard and leave you pleasantly astonished.

On Valentine's morning, you wake up to the irresistible aroma of a homemade breakfast. Shoto, armed with a chef's apron, presents a heart-shaped feast, each dish crafted with precision and love. As you enter the kitchen, he greets you with a warm smile, "Happy Valentine's Day. This is just the beginning."

Throughout the day, you discover tiny love notes strategically placed in unexpected corners. Each note holds sweet affirmations, showcasing Shoto's meticulous effort to sprinkle your day with joy.

In a quiet moment, Shoto presents you with a carefully crafted, handmade gift. It could be a piece of art, a personalized item, or something that holds sentimental value. He shyly admits, "I wanted to make something special for you. I hope you like it."

Unbeknownst to you, Shoto unveils a surprise date that surpasses all expectations. "I thought we could spend the day doing things you enjoy. It's all about making you happy." From a tranquil picnic in the park to a spontaneous dance under the stars, every moment is curated to create lasting memories.

Upon returning home, as evening approaches, Shoto unveils a cozy haven, complete with blankets and your favorite snacks. The ambiance exudes warmth, inviting you to unwind and revel in the tranquility of your shared love.

The day concludes with a handwritten love poem, penned by Shoto himself. Each line is an eloquent expression of his feelings, capturing the nuances of your connection in words as sweet as the love that binds you.

Before you retire for the night, Shoto pulls you into a gentle embrace. "Thank you for being with me. Happy Valentine's Day," he whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

♡ Hawks ♡

Upon waking up on Valentine's Day, you're greeted with a pile of gifts neatly arranged beside the bed. Hawks, unable to contain his excitement, watches for your reaction with a grin. "Happy Valentine's Day, babe. Open them up!"

Hawks takes Valentine's Day as the ultimate opportunity to showcase his love. From breakfast in bed to surprise outings, he plans an entire day filled with over-the-top affectionate gestures. "Get ready for a day all about you, songbird."

Hawks, with his love language being gift-giving, meticulously selects each present. "I thought of everything you might like. You're worth it," he mentions as you uncover thoughtful and personalized gifts.

The day unfolds with whimsical adventures – perhaps a surprise trip to an amusement park or an impromptu picnic. Hawks is determined to make the day unforgettable.

Throughout the day, Hawks showers you with unexpected compliments. "You know, you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he confesses.

As the day progresses, Hawks concludes with a romantic dinner, whether it's a home-cooked meal or a reservation at a fancy restaurant. "To us and many more Valentine's Days to come," he toasts, a warmth in his golden eyes.

As the day comes to a close, Hawks proposes the idea of late-night stargazing. Draped in blankets, both of you settle on the spacious balcony of his apartment. Hawks, pointing out constellations, weaves stories of the night sky. "Just us and the stars. Can't beat a moment like this, huh?"

As the day winds down, Hawks might surprise you with a midnight snack. "Can't end the day on an empty stomach. Here, your favorite, babybird," he says, presenting a thoughtful treat.

As you both drift into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms, Keigo can't help but revel in the profound happiness that washes over him. Having found the love of his life, he's determined to cherish this precious connection on a daily basis, not just during Valentine's Day.

[kremlin]

@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

[ikeuverse]

CARE AND LOVE — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader GENRES: so much fluff, a pinch of angst WC: 1.9k+

WARNINGS: mentions of food, a little moment of tiredness after a work routine.

SYNOPSIS: being in a relationship means that the other person can take care of you when you need it. in your mind, you don't want to burden jake with that. fortunately for him, that's not how things work.

NOTES: i wanted to make a little surprise for my heart sister, @en-ternity. i just thought of some comfort i could write to her when she comes back from her hiatus to read. and realize how much she is loved by her friends, by me, and by jake!

masterlist

You felt your eyes water after throwing your body on the sofa. Your hair was still damp from the shower, the smell of your shampoo wafting through the air, and a small smile adorning your lips as you looked down at your clothes. The t-shirt was loose enough and still smelled of him.

It was strange and at the same time funny to see that you had just gone through the biggest cliché of all time. Your best friend becomes your friend with benefits, after a little declaration, he became more than that.

The two of you were in a relationship, you could say you'd been dating for a few months because it was official. It became official from the day Jake looked into your eyes and said he was starting to fall in love with you, and his bright smile when you said you felt the same way was the right answer for him to make it really official.

Having him with you felt so good, knowing that he was there now went beyond the physical touch. Even today you were feeling like crap and just dismissed him on a few calls.

I'm staying late at work, you lied, knowing how stressed and tired you were. You didn't want to take it out on Jake and have another cliché in your life, fighting with your new boyfriend because you just couldn't deal with the frustration of a day full of demands.

No. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Jake, so you preferred to tell a little lie. Or two, when he asked if you two could just have dinner together and you said you'd already eaten.

Nonsense. The only food in your stomach was a piece of toast that Niki, your best friend and work colleague, had bought you for lunch. And because he was so insistent, he blackmailed you into telling Jake if you didn't chew it.

And you did. The toast was wonderful, the taste of all the ingredients combined with some of the juice he'd also brought was divine. But you hated yourself for not feeling hungry when you had so much to do.

Work first, eat later. Jake hated your motto, hated it with all his might, and even knowing you like that, he still couldn't accept it. So that's why you just let yourself go. The next day you could tell him after it was over, so he could understand that you hadn't meant any harm.

But something in your plans had to go wrong, that's for sure. Because the sound of the doorbell resounded throughout your apartment and, as soon as you got up from the sofa, something in your chest hurt. You knew there could only be one person behind that door. And possibly not a good one.

Nevertheless, you walked over to open it, and, as soon as you did, your grip hurt even more.

Jake had a scowl on his face, looking straight into your eyes when you tried to smile at him.

"Hey, you…" your eyes dropped to his hands. Bags of food "Shit" you whispered.

"Yeah, pretty big shit" he said, maybe your whisper wasn't low enough.

"Look, Jake, I can…"

"Explain? I just— Let me in, please?" he asked, the disappointment in his voice telling you how upset he was and you couldn't tell if it was because of the lie told or not.

But you still let him in and Jake went straight to your kitchen. Walking behind him, you made your way to the opposite side of the worktop and watched as he took some things out of the bag to cook. Your heart ached with each ingredient because you knew he had chosen the things you liked best so he could cook them. Guilt consumes you little by little.

"Will you cook for me?" your voice came out a little louder than intended due to the silence in the kitchen. Jake looked at you, at no point softening the expression with which he entered your apartment.

He just nodded in agreement, washing his hands and picking up the things that needed cutting.

Silent treatment? You thought. Wasn't he going to talk to you while he was cooking, or wasn't he going to talk to you while he was in your apartment?

The thought alone made you gasp and almost want to cry. It had been on your mind long before Jake arrived, anyway, and now it was only made stronger by the guilt you felt and all the tiredness too.

Jake cut everything carefully, leaning over a few times to make sure everything was as he wanted it. You let a small smile escape as you saw that he had learned everything from Jay since it was he and you who cooked when everyone in the group of friends got together.

So he'd taken the time to try to cook just to make something for you? Another pang of guilt consumed you. You sniffled softly to stop the tears from falling and decided you couldn't stand there and just let him do everything. Or even worse, do it and not even look at you.

Walking slowly to the side of the workbench where Jake was standing, he didn't even notice you when you got close. He was so focused on his chores that he put everything in the pot to wait for it to boil.

Your arms then encircled his waist and that's when Jake noticed, startled by the sudden touch as he stopped everything he was doing.

"I'm so sorry," you sniffled once more, one or two stubborn tears trailing down your cheeks and you gratefully buried your face in Jake's broad back "I'm so sorry, Jake."

He knew he'd give in sooner or later since he'd decided to do it. So when Jake dropped the kitchen utensils, icy fingers quickly touched your skin. Your hand that was on his stomach being pushed away enough so that he could turn around and face you.

Now with your face buried in his chest, Jake lowered himself enough to touch his lips against your forehead, lingering in a slow kiss against your skin.

"Sorry for what, love?" he asked softly, the affectionate nickname giving you a little more reassurance.

"For lying to you" Jake's fingers now touched your chin, making you lift your face so he could look you in the eye.

His expression was a little softer than before, a smile at the corner of his lips as he looked at every inch of your face. He didn't say anything, just walking with you to the marble countertop to sit you down, quickly arranging his rightful place between your legs.

"I'm not mad about this" he said, one hand on your thigh through your pajama pants while the other went to your face to dry the damp skin and caress your cheek. You wanted to ask what it was, but Jake seemed to read your mind or know you well enough to answer before anything was said "I'm angry because I had to blackmail Niki into telling me you didn't eat today."

"What?" you almost shouted at that, taking a step away from Jake to see him smile at the sudden shock. You'd kill your best friend if you could right now.

"Just toast, really, y/n?" he asked. Your eyes wandered for a few seconds, feeling ashamed of having been caught in the act "And why didn't you want me to come, anyway? Just so you wouldn't tell me you ate badly today?"

Jake looked at the food on the fire to see if he still needed to leave some more. As things had barely cooked, he breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he wouldn't have to leave his place any time soon.

Feeling him move closer and snuggle even closer between your legs, you sighed. Something inside you knew you could tell him even if you wanted to hide it all and spare him. But Jake left his apartment, and went to yours to make you food, why couldn't you be honest with him?

"Because I didn't want to take my frustrations out on you" Jake seemed surprised by your confession. Eyebrows raised and the touch on your thigh became a little firmer when you answered him "I don't know, my day was so bad that I was tired and afraid that I might fight with you when, in fact, I just wanted you to be with me and… What?" you asked when you saw his smile widen even more.

He leaned in close enough to capture your lips in a slow kiss, the same kiss he gave you every time you met. It was welcome to know what you would become next. Would it remain slow? Would the kiss become intense? The two of you didn't know, which is why Jake always liked to take it slow and just enjoy the moment of your mouths together and your tongues intertwining leisurely.

As soon as the kiss was broken, Jake kept your face close to his. The tip of his nose brushing slowly and his hands holding your face, not wanting you to move away from him just yet.

"I think you think too much when you're stressed and tired" Jake whispered, "I'd come here anyway, I'd stay with you without asking."

"Really?" you whimpered in response.

"Yes, but you have to let it happen, y/n" he kissed your lips once more, looking into your eyes as he finished speaking "I'm here to take care of you and…"

Jake's speech was interrupted by the boiling of water, indicating that the food was almost ready. He looked at the pots on the stove, wondering whether he could leave it a little longer or simply turn it off. Jake opted for the first option, it wouldn't hurt to leave it a bit longer, after all.

"Where were we? Oh..." he seemed to remember the second he looked at you, the smile on his reddened lips making you smile too "I'm here to take care of you because now we're a couple and that's what couples do, take care of each other in the worst of times."

"I know, I'm sorry" you looked down, but Jake didn't let that happen for long, raising his head and making you look at him again.

"We're in this together, love. We chose to be together and I think we're going to go through this more often."

"You think, why?"

"Because Niki says you're too stressed" Jake shrugged, hearing your laugh as a weak slap was slapped against his chest, making him laugh too "Hey!"

"I love you, Jake Sim" your fingers intertwined with his, smiling even more as Jake moved closer to your face again.

The lips were inches apart, the breaths mingling as he whispered back.

"I love you more, y/n" before Jake could kiss you, the cooker beeped indicating it was time to turn it off.

He pulled away from you and stepped out from between your legs to stand in front of the stove and minister to the food to be best prepared. You left the worktop quickly, returning to hug him from behind, careful that your arms didn't get burned or that Jake didn't lose his concentration on cooking for you.

Giving him a small kiss against the skin of his back covered by his t-shirt, you whispered all night how much you loved him and how grateful you were that the relationship had gone further. Jake assured you the whole time that he would be there with you, never forgetting to whisper how much he loved you even more.

© ikeuverse, 2023. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[htmliu]

◜𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 tropes that i associate haechan with !

genre. fluff (?) wc. <700

frenemies to lovers

everything about hyuck is so very “oh i don’t understand or know how to deal with my feelings, so i’m just going to annoy the crap out of you.”

a LOT of bantering. stolen glances. it’s the pushing and pulling he gets the thrill out of. he can make fun of you, but if anybody else does it, they better know how to fight bc !?!?!? OH HE’S AB TO SQUARE UP.

stupid stupid oblivious mutual feelings (idiots to lovers)

this one is like a follow up of the previous one. almost joint, actually. it’s like when you both are with other people, everything is fine. you guys are left alone for ONE SECOND. and Boom. TENSION.

BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND

NEED I SAY MORE ???? honestly speaking, this trope is RIGHT behind enemies to lovers when it comes to the most hyuck-coded fanfic tropes to ever exist. it’s THERE.

you basically grew up with him. he’d been friends with your brother for as long as you’ve known. every summer vacation, your house was his paradise. but his presence — to you — was HELL.

now from here, we either go with you have had a crush on him for the longest time, he drives you crazy, and everything along those lines.

OR

you think you hate him to the bone (and he relishes in your so called hatred bc, again, PUSH AND PULL). but in reality, you really just don’t know how to deal with your feelings. there is a pattern with me as you can tell.

SECRET RELATIONSHIP

this is me pulling out the big guns now.

“if only the others could see you right now, literally melting in my touch.” followed by MESSY making out. disheveled hair. Hands Everywhere but where they should be. just him trying to make up for all the times his lips could’ve been on yours but he could’t just kiss you anywhere and everywhere bc of the whole “secret dating” part.

but then again. the adrenaline rush that he gets bc of this entire ordeal? he’s ABSOLUTELY there for it.

friends with benefits to ?? to lovers

this trope is always a MESS — to say the least. but ukw, that’s why i like it. why i associate hyuck with this trope is very self explanatory.

one drunken night accidentally led to a hook up session. it’s definitely not something you both hadn’t fantasized about before either. although, you always shook it off bc you knew you couldn’t be jeopardising your friendship.

but would it be wrong. if you guys were do it do it again. and again. and again. until none of those times were an “accident” anymore. and before either of you knew it, you were caught up in a web of your own mistakes. feelings were everywhere. along with the fear of losing whatever was left of your friendship. fear of messing everything up.

but for some reason, haechan still wanted more. bc everything just felt right when your lips were on his, his hands on your hips.

oh, you had him at your fingertips.

fake dating

see. the thing with me is. i love the push and pull as much as haechan does. perhaps even more than him. EVERYTHING ab this is just so HIM uk?

with the silly little contract that goes like — no kissing when not in front of people, no skinship, stay 5ft away when not in front of people, and ofc DO NOT FALL IN LOVE. and then just that happens. it’s so cliché. but that’s what i’m here for.

the way haechan will test your patience to the fullest. break every rule on that contract until you break the last rule yourself. after all, rules are made to be broken.

BUT THE BUILD UP TOO LIKE. when haechan doesn’t realise that he isn’t just doing stuff for you bc he’s your pretend boyfriend, but bc he actually cares for you. and there you both were, obliviously falling into an abyss of love.

“i think i could get arrested for breach of contract. bc i might or might not have broken the last rule.”

“well looks like we’re both getting arrested then.”

SUMMER AU

personally, it’s either a summer + road trip + e2l. there is this one specific scenario stuck in my head.

while everybody is out and about with their significant others, exploring the beaches and what not. you’re stuck with haechan, the last person you’d want to spend your summer with. but alas, god had it his way, and two single pringles had to mingle (#userhtmliufunnyera)

so somehow he convinced you to go out (re: lured you with a free ice cream treat). you are ab to hop onto a bike. you say something about him making you fall off the bike bc of his incompetence. and haechan, without missing a beat, “falling off the bike is the least of your concerns. although, falling for this guy — points to himself — is something i should warn you about in advance.”

OR

summer + childhood friends to acquaintances to lovers. i have a very cruel summer by taylor swift x summer!au x hyuck vision and it’s driving me INSANE. it’s angsty, but it’s fluffy, it’s mutual pining, and it’s everything i want and more.

© HTMLIU

[trillscienceofficer]

I feel like apart from what you said about B'elanna being interested in men only under some dubious consent scenario, whatever she had going in previously to Voyager and being in DQ was trying to be as normal as possible for her father's validation, whether she realized she was doing it or not. And besides, she only ever had a good relationship with people who didn't seem to ever be a possible partner for whatever reason. She's very lesbian coded to me for that.

(In reference to this post)

Man, you're so right. B'Elanna doing things with the perspective of pleasing (the imaginary perfect version that can do no wrong of) her father is a really good observation here. Her stint at Starfleet Academy comes to mind (John Torres was supposed to be a Starfleet officer, according to a deleted line from “Barge of the Dead”), but it's definitely not the only example of this tendency. So much of B'Elanna's life is conditioned by what she thinks he would do, even if I don't think she realizes it (she only starts having dreams of her childhood after discovering that she's pregnant etc); in a way B'Elanna has always been trying to recreate a version of her family where through her hard work and determination things won't end the way they did for her and her mother. I totally agree that her sticking with Tom for so long, despite his behavior and despite so many examples of their early attraction being due to alien crap and/or that declaration of love extracted in a near-death situation, is a symptom of that abandonment trauma as well. I think this is true even outside of a lesbian B'Elanna reading, but it certainly adds some weight to the argument as well. I mean, I know that "lesbian with daddy issues" (hate the term) is kind of a cliché but then again it's not like this was in any way intentional, and as I mentioned reading B'Elanna as a lesbian makes everything that happens to her on Voyager even more brutally heartwrenching.

And you're again right about her choice of potential partners, even the fact that she and Tom started flirting a little when they already disagreed on a lot... can be very easily read as 'I find this guy irritating so I must be secretly attracted to him' which, well. I know from personal experience it's one hell of a mind-trick for closeted lesbians. Her supposedly 'Klingon' attitude towards romance is very significant here imho. Why would B'Elanna lean into her Klingon cultural roots in just this one case, when more often than not she's ashamed of them (and I'm not saying this shame is 'good' by any means), if not because it gives her the perfect excuse to realign her feelings with heterosexual expectations?

Truly the more I look at it the more I can read reluctance and coercion and trauma in B'Elanna when it comes to her sexual relationship with men in general and Tom in particular. There's nothing intentional here of course (just the usual trouble Trek has with answering the question 'are women people?', compounded with and made worse by racism in B'Elanna's case) but the show lends itself well for a lesbian B'Elanna interpretation. And again, the thought that she might be a lesbian... makes all that happened to her on Voyager even more transparently horrifying.

[popchoc]

Grey's Anatomy - 20x10

I'm sorry Greys, but this was the least impressive finale in 20 seasons (though truth be told I don't really recall any of them since about season 10). It was barely enough for a regular ep. Mer got kinda fired again. Richard retired again. Someone is pregnant again. Bailey worried about Ben again. Enough already.

The only thing that interests me in Mer's story is the fact that Amelia is involved in it, someone who's just entertaining whatever crap she has to sell. Catherine will never stop sucking though. (Also doesn't Mer own part of the hospital? Shouldn't that give her some rights - even when she works in Boston?)

I lost all my care for Adams this season, but even besides that, he should go to Chicago. Maggie's offer is too good. Which imo made the final scene, besides extremely cliché, totally unnecessary.

So nothing good than huh? No, that's not true. Yasuda and Millin had a very nice moment that actually felt natural instead of forced (but damn I hate to see Yasuda go!). And Blue's story with the ex-fiance could get interesting, esp since she seems fun. It might be only 2 out of 42 good minutes, but hey if that helps me to check in again...

Alright, enough whining, let's just find out if S19 did better. I've got my hopes up (and my tissues ready)!

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Krolia

Alright, I just had a thought.

I get that it's a major plot point that Krolia is part of the Blade of Marmora, but what if she was just another soldier?

What if she had been heading to Earth as a Galra soldier, and was shot down by a Blade member?

And then Keith's dad saves her!

So after that, she either decides to change after falling in love with him and realizing that destroying planets is killing innocent people like this man, oooor she continues to fight for the Galra.

If she continued with Galra, then she most likely would reunite with Keith in a battle, or at least see his picture in some battle briefing and be like, oH CRAP THAT'S MY KID.

And then if we continue on this path, then Keith would see her, and she tells him who she is, either mid-battle to throw him off, or to tell him why she won't kill him.

And if she were to do it mid-battle, Keith would be absolutely crushed and either have a character development arc in which he pushes back his feelings of betrayal and hurt and defeats her, or he gets distracted and she manages to injure him.

If Keith defeats her himself, (and this is all during fighting her) then right before she passes out/ dies they would have a moment where either Krolia apologizes, or tells Keith that he was a the best and worst mistake she's ever made, and either way she would tell him that she's proud of him.

If Keith were to get hurt by her, Lance would shoot her down and rush over to Keith. There would be one of those moments where character A is like dying, and character B places character A's head on their lap and like cries while character A is making some heartfelt speech and giving them a bunch of cliché advice, you know?

And then Keith passes out, and the team is there by then to rush him back to the castle and he makes it.

And then he breaks down when the reality of what happened with Krolia hits him.

And he has a moment with one of the paladins, BUT ONLY ONE OF THEM. More than one other paladin ruins the moment, don't ask me why, it just does.

And then if Krolia were to be still alive (This is assuming that the 'I'm proud of you' moment never happened), then she would rise up in ranks until when Zarkon dies, she's the empress. Haggar and Voltron think that she's controlling Krolia, so Haggar is targeted by Voltron and the coalition.

They CANNOT defeat her, no matter what they do, but then Krolia takes her out in order to gain full power of the Galra empire, and everyone's just SHOCKED. Krolia doesn't even do it in secret, this is like a full-on battle and she goes, "Bold of you to assume that you EVER controlled me, Witch. The only one who valued you was Zarkon, and that made him weak."

And then she straight-up stabs Haggar and leaves the battle saying to the paladins, "We've both won this battle. Now go. We all know that you are outnumbered here."

AND THEN instead of the whole Honerva thing, it's them against Krolia.

Keith would most likely be the one to kill her. Or maybe Krolia would have the same ending as Honerva! Though if that were to happen, then Allura can still sacrifice herself.

And throughout this, KLANCE exists. Allurance shippers can BACK OFF. ALLURANCE. NEVER. HAPPENS. AND NO. I am NOT adding Allurance to my computer's dictionary so that it will stop autocorrecting me, because the only ship that belongs in the dictionary is KLANCE.

*deep breaths*

Thank you for reading my Ted Ta- oh who am I kidding, thank you for reading my rant.

-

btw, does anyone else simp for Matt and that robot-masked alien girl??? Like, oh my goodness it is SO CUTE. In the clear day episode, (the one where Shiro wins the arm-wresting competition) the girl is INCLUDED IN THEIR FAMILY PICTURE. NO JOKE. LOOOOK!!!

MATT'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!!!!

Sorry about that. I live for this kind of stuff.

-

If there's spelling errors, (at least more than usual) then feel free to correct me. I'm typing really aggressively right now, which usually leads to a WHOLE lot of mistakes. So, oops.

[weiwuxianismybae]

More Pet Peeves!

Wei Wuxian – a troublemaker, a genius, a beggar

So, another thing I've seen come up quite a lot is a penniless Wei Wuxian. This is more prevalent in modern AUs (in my experience). And like, I see where you people are coming from, the whole "sugar daddy Lan Wangji" is quite appealing, however! Why put Wei Wuxian down for it? In the novel, Lan Wangji has no trouble spoiling Wei Wuxian regardless of his financial standing and the money is actually never brought up as an issues. The whole "Am I your charity case, Lan Wangji?" is just not a thing. In the extras Wei Wuxian has access to Lan Clan's money, making him filthy rich once again, but Lan Wangji keeps on spoiling him and Wei Wuxian lets him, because he knows it makes Lan Wangji happy.

Also, why would Wei Wuxian be broke to begin with? The only instance he actually struggled due to tight finances was when he was secluding himself with the Wens on the Burial Mounds. Because, how is Wei Wuxian supposed to earn (a suptential amount of) money to begin with when he is shunned by the whole cultivation world? (The one that holds all the power?) And has to care for 50+ people.

Wei Wuxian is very smart. Not just book smart, but also street smart. He is a genius in all fields. He says in the novel that "back then" (in the days that he was a rich young master) he always had money on him ("to buy gifts for girls" ...yeah right). So, he is very resourceful. If, in a modern AU, he somehow found himself in a bad financial situation (the cause of which is very often Yu Ziyuan throwing him out) then, first of all, he most certainly would have seen that coming and would have prepared. Second, seeing that he is a genius, I don't think it would have been hard for him to earn enough money to live (comfortably) on his own quickly.

So, what do I mean by "putting Wei Wuxian down"? Well, there are two types of fanfics when it comes to this trope (this is called a trope, right? Idk), one where the writer does their best to portray Wei Wuxian with his canon characteristics (even though I still don't think he would struggle financially) and the one where Wei Wuxian is some oblivious idiot with a shit load of insecurities. So, this fanon Wei Wuxian refuses any help from everybody (be it his sister (or brother🙄), Lan Wangji or a stranger) because he "doesn't want to be a bother and make trouble" and will struggle silently. So this then leads to our hero of the day, Lan Wangji, 'tricking' Wei Wuxian into accepting his help. How more cliché can this be?

Wei Wuxian, why are you acting like my mum?

Why do opinions of some random people matter to him more than those of his loved ones? This one always comes hand in hand with "insecure Wei Wuxian". He develops self-esteem issues because of all the crap Yu Ziyuan throws at him (even though he doesn't in canon, but who cares about canon nowadays?) And thus, miscommunication and misunderstandings with Lan Wangji ensue, because "Why would this god of a man want a rat like me?" Or when they are ALREADY dating, he overhears people shit-talking him and starts putting distance between himself and Lan Wangji because "Lan Wangji deserves better" and needs constant reassurance from Lan Wangji. This... this is just so insulting to their characters and their relationship, I have no words.

...Maybe I should stop trying my luck and instead get to the mountain of books that is my TBR (≡・x・≡)?

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Do you wanna know what kind art-style in HH/HB should work instead of what we got (more like missed something?) A Gothic grotesque with expressionism. You know, just a mixture of gothic mystery, a bits of disgusting and horrific and lastly - a haunted magic of expressionism. Don't get me wrong on the taste of art-style that should be improved, right? When it comes with art-style fitting to the crappy worldbuilding? Well, it could've been fixed for good reason; for main and minor casts of characters? Depends on who you're writing about. But working on the crappy writing (as some wannabe who tries to figure this crap out) with clichés? Gimme a break. And i hope you have something to add or make some notes in this gibberish crap, sorry.

That would be great. Never can go wrong with Burton.

[hardly-an-escape]

🦷🍄 for the ask game! <3

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

it's kind of a cliché, but the older I get, the less I care about what other people think of me, and the more free I feel.

like, of course I want people to like me. I want people to think I'm a good person, that I'm generous and kind. the important things. but superficial stuff? the way I dress, or what my body or hair looks like? the books or music or TV I like, or my hobbies, or my fandoms? I do that shit for me.

I cut my own hair. I had a buzzcut for several years. I dress how I want. I eat what I want. I don't shave my body hair. I didn't change my name when I got married. I don't wear underwire bras. in the last year or so I've become more open about my fandom hobbies and writing with IRL friends.

I'm really just trying to live without shame. you know, I'm a woman in America, and there is so much shame and pressure and expectation associated with women simply existing. and I'm one of the lucky ones – the way I was raised, a lot of the really shitty diet culture/beauty culture/gendered expectations missed me. and I've still had to unlearn a lot of crap to be comfortable with who I am.

I don't know, I'm just in my mid-30s and I'm still meeting so many women my age and older who have that "oh, I could never do [x]" kind of attitude, and it makes me so sad. because it's just! not true!! you can do whatever you want forever!! you can cut your hair however you want and you can wear bright clothes and you can sing badly and you can make stupid art and you can quit shaving your legs and you can swear and you can exist!!!! you're allowed to do that!!!

anyway it's not much of a life hack to say "just stop caring what other people think about you" lmao because it's... not that easy. obviously. but the less I carry the weight of other people's expectations of me the better I feel.

also, get blackout curtains for your bedroom. and nice sheets. and wash your sheets weekly. sorry this got way longer and more intense than anyone was probably expecting.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

and now for something completely different!

one of my fondest Dreamling headcanons – and I've definitely written about this before, although I haven't managed to turn it into an actual full-fledged fic – is that after Dream allows himself to get talked out of his suicide attempt and retires as an (immortal, unaging) human, Hob is the one who takes him in and cares for him and teaches him how to live.

but, crucially, they don't jump right into a relationship.

it's just really important to me that if they get together in a retired!Dream AU, they do so as equals. and after Dream has a chance to pursue other relationships, to explore and discover what he really likes as a human, as an individual. I want him to go on bad dates and great dates and have goofy ass human sex and travel the world and get his heart broken.

and then I want him to realize that Hob is everything he's ever wanted – everything he's learned he wants – and come back to him and then they bang like bunnies and live happily after.

thanks for the ask!! writers truth & dare ask game...

[emsylcatac]

They made Chat Noir a misogynistic asshole lmao who is this guy, I don't know him (lol wtf are you talking about lmao that's just not true)

None of the characters backstory is exploited nor make sense. Adrien was in school all along? He's not a model? He can stand up to his father like it's normal? Sorry but no(Yea they gave him aspine and gave him and his dad a conclusion)

WHERE IS THE TENSION NONE FOUND HERE. There's an identity reveal that couldn't fall more flat because there's no time to see the characters interact, there's no time to build some tension of sort( Identity reveal was cute and the cliffhanger was clever as hell)

The way they fall in love is just....lame and empty?? Marinette just falls for a guy in a library who asks her if she's alright. Cool. Chat Noir falls for Ladybug after she saved his sorry macho ass and there's no big moment or whatever apart from Careless Whisper playing (Again like wtf with this mysoginistic crap you actually sound like your coping with how bad the show actually is)

The themes were basics and done in the most cliché way (be yourself, not be afraid, loveeee wins etc)

(Worst part of the show is how Astruc indulges in ideas of subverting tropes and then falling flat, so Jeremy going with the classics actually made it interesting)

Marinette wants to be ladybug again because?? Of some song with Tikki??? And that's it? No big moment where she realises she has to stand in or anything. She just suddenly goes 'ok I have to do that' (ok fair)

Don't get me started on the Gabriel/Adrien reveal and their hug and all fjzjjdje anyways ( That was genuinely a good moment and made up for the shit ending of Season 5 lmao your out of your mind)

Marinette's cleverness and what makes her a hero in the series just isn't here. She's not standing out. Zag said fuck u feminism for real

(She had an arc and a conclusion to an arc and it was simple and to the point which is good for a 90 minute movie, unlike the show where we have fake feminism where marinette is always in the right and cat noir is always her lesser. )

The more you explain yourself the more I realize how bad the show is and what it could offer if Thomas wasn't around. You can shit on Zag for being rich but the dude supplied me with what I wanted and gave it to me when Thomas floundered all that build-up for nothing. You can act all uppity all you want but this just confirmed that people still coping and that this show is still any good like the movie, while those who hate the show can appreciate it for what it can be.

Well if you're just gonna salt about the show in my inbox you can leave then 👋👋👋

[myriadparacosm]

Modern AU with Regulus Coroner and Detective James

Just a small one-shot because I got an intense brainworm from my post about this cliché (:

My AO3

Warning: Horror

There is an anomaly. Regulus wants to say that it is in his life because the lab’ is his and in a logical way his life but as Evan likes to remind him: he wouldn’t want to deal with everything else outside from the corpses he examines.

Regulus could perfectly work anywhere if he wants to. They both know it but it’s true that Regulus wouldn’t enjoy the management, employees and so on, despite his upbringing that made him fit, and deserving, of a position of power and not— an employee as he might appear on paper. Still, since the anomaly is always showing in his territory then this makes it Regulus’ and should leave him any right on how to deal with it.

“Can you-” The voice dries, chokes, with no politeness despite the obvious try. “Holy crap. Don’t show it to me.”

His anomaly is obnoxious and very chatty even though it’s thrown in an environment that only disturbs him. It should have gotten used to it by now; especially with how often it gravitates toward Regulus who perhaps is not near dead bodies only when he goes to the toilet.

“This?” He asks and fakes a perfect innocence with his eyebrows as he presents the skull in his hand with a lot of flesh still holding on.

He has to admit that it’s not a pretty one as whoever killed this woman tried to cover it with various things. A piece of flesh falls off with a loud splash but his eyes are still on the ever-prying anomaly who showed up with coffees and a bag of pastries.

“Oh God.”

“Potter, you better not puke in here or you will end up like this woman.”

James Potter snorts. He tries to look at him but he needs to quickly glance away because of the corpse beside Regulus. Thankfully he manages to not let anything fall as he hastily puts down the paper bag and the coffees on a small table.

“I’m not,” he assures as if his usual warm, soft-looking, skin hasn’t completely lost colour in a worrying way.

Regulus scoffs but at least he doesn’t have James’ eyes on him anymore. “Why do you come here anyway? It only just arrived.” He has his suspicions of course, but it’s better to ignore them whenever it’s about this man.

“Well it’s my case.”

It’s his usual excuse and more than often he can’t stand the sight of the victims - which isn’t a bad thing as James is perfectly capable in his job, which doesn’t require him to check on Regulus and the bodies as he would be informed the second they have any informations about any of them.

“Yes I know, you brought her here.”

“It’s a woman?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t have much yet outside that it’s obviously human work by the state of it; someone definitely tried to make her disappear which always calls for a murder. “Why are you cluttering my space?” He asks with a pointed look at what he brought.

“Coffee, you like coffee.”

“I like caffeine,” he deadpans, isolating another part of the flesh to study it further.

“And I brought something to eat,” James adds with his cheer slowly coming back. He is staring at the documents rather than where Regulus is working. “Can’t let you work with an empty stomach.”

“Does this look like a place where I would eat?”

This time their eyes meet. It’s definitely not right that Regulus enjoys the squirm building up in James’ eyes but he finds it fascinating to see when it becomes too much for him to handle. People keep saying that he should cut him some slack since they are co-workers, or partners as Potter likes to say with a wink, but Regulus only agreed to help the investigations by looking at the corpses. He never thought this included a detective who likes to walk in to watch him work and throw up here and then.

“Oh right,” he whispers, horrified, and his eyes pause on the corpse before flying back to his presents. “Shit I didn’t thi-”

“I could eat,” Regulus says, smirking when Potter’s focus sharpens on him, just to watch him squirm. “But I can’t compromise the evidence with food or liquids around like that.”

He grimaces, glancing at the paper bag and him. “You could eat here? With— like right now? With the smell?”

“Really Potter, you’re the only one bothered. Just put this in my office,” he asks because he is going to plunge his hands any minute in the poor woman and James won’t handle the sight.

“Oh sure, I will wait for you there.”

“Potter.”

James beams at him. “Yes?”

“Would you mind dropping these to Pandora for her to analyse them?” He gestures to the part he has isolated for further study in separate containers.

It’s mostly flesh, bloody, and James is clearly disgusted by the idea. He warily glances at Regulus who keeps his face perfectly professional. James always tugs at his childishness, which is always a surprise, but the teasing is so easy and satisfying.

“The…”

“There is a piece of the stomach and parts that are unusual but I still have a lot to do here.” He gestures with his dirty gloves at the table where the corpse lay. “You do want to figure out what happened to her and who did it, right?”

James can’t stop the pained grimace but he nods and takes the paper bag between his teeth, takes the two coffee in one hand and awkwardly shuffles closer to accept the samples in the other one. He tries really hard to not look at what he is transporting but his nose wrinkles. Regulus pities him, though he is sure that James can handle this simple quest, so he rewards him with an almost smile. His warm eyes are stuck on him for far longer than necessary so he clears his throat and gestures at him to go.

Whatever James tries to say is muffled by the paper bag in his mouth, which he could have easily carried any other way, but he doesn’t try again and quickly walks out with a hand as far away from him as possible.

Regulus does not let his eyes fall on James’ ass but he can easily picture it. He shakes his head with a huff and hopes that the heat on his cheeks is only a feeling and not noticeable. James always leaves him with that feeling of not being quite conscious and everything hits him with the first breath once he is away from his aura. It’s not entirely unpleasant but he is relieved to be left alone.

He is still surprised that they are still working together. James, as benevolent and tenacious as he is, should have never ended up anywhere near Regulus’ world. Before taking cases of murders, he has only worked to find the missing persons which brought a missing child found dead, who has shown many signs of abuse and rape proved by Regulus’ work and thus dug up a nasty human trafficking. That’s how they crossed paths despite how James avoids the gruesome sights of death. He is a great detective from what Regulus has heard, and seen, which has only been proved every time they solved a case together.

Though James doesn’t appear to need a reason to drop by since he has been doing it for many months now. He has become used to the sight of skeletons and bones once they are cleaned but the rest still disgusts him and yet he always drops by Regulus’ lab. Thrice he threw up and only the last two times were aimed at a garbage can; it had been the early days and most people aren’t as comfortable with this environment as Regulus is.

There is nothing to fear from dead people.

It takes him longer than he thought to finish the first round of inspection on the dead woman and he sends more things for them to be analysed before finally going back to his office. James is up and ready, greeting him like usual, and explains that he kept the coffee heated up by using the small boiler in there. He mentions that the pastries are still great but are better to be eaten right away before the chocolate cools down.

Regulus is all about finding evidence, the history and identifying the dead persons and James can be of help sometimes but not often compared to his colleagues. Except that he likes to talk about the case and give all the details to Regulus. He does have helpful insights from time to time but more than often he lets James have the chance to talk. It’s a bit of a weird process when Regulus thinks about it but he also doesn’t quite want to change it. If James needs someone listening to him to help him think, there are a lot of people around for that. Regulus seems to be his favourite choice ever since they started to work together.

James’ jaw is very much appealing, far too much, and Regulus lets him ramble as he scrutinises the stubble that must have appeared overnight. It suits him terribly and Regulus wants to touch it. James, despite his awful eyesight without glasses, catches him staring at some point and asks him, with his ever-grin, what is on his mind. Regulus lies without a problem and decides it’s time to get back to work if he has shared everything about the case.

He smiles at Regulus as if he knows something more but he doesn’t wait on it since his cheeks are flushing and goes back to work. James is probably busy because he doesn’t come back at all during the day. Regulus gets a text from him with his thoughts on the suspects and about the results the lab’ sent him earlier. He only checks it at the end of the day as he finishes in his office.

James: I bet by tomorrow we will have the murderer arrested thanks to our brilliant and pretty genius.

Regulus scowls and turns his phone screen down to try to ignore the text. It lasts for a second before he reads it again with flaming cheeks and a scowl that does nothing to fight off the smile on his face.

Regulus: I sure hope you aren’t talking about me.

James: Do you know any other handsome genius around here?

Still think you’re pretty though

This man has no shame and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere Regulus’ space anymore. He might throw the next bone or flesh at him for that comment.

Regulus: I will make a deal with the murderer to get rid of you just for that comment

“Reggie, you got a gift,” Pandora sing-songs and laughs when he startles in his seat. “I bet it’s from the same person making you blush over texts.”

“I’m not blushing,” he huffs out and clears his throat as he tries to get his face to go back to its usual blankness. “What is it?”

She chuckles at his face and sits at the other side of his desk to hand him a small box covered in shiny wrapping paper. “Smells like chocolate. James is very romantic so I’m not surprised.”

Regulus eyes the box and shakes it a bit to guess by the rattle what might be inside it. It does smell like chocolate. “It doesn’t have to be him.”

“Reggie, you’re very dashing and many people look at you but not many are brave enough to talk to you and even less flirt. It has to be James— oh maybe now you can call him by his name like he has been begging you to do for the last months. It looks pretty expensive. Just like the other gifts you have been receiving.”

“I do not buy and send gifts to myself like Barty said,” he says because her voice edges into something silly and childish. Though it’s a bit strange that James, or whoever else, is sending them at his workplace rather than his home. If it was James then he would know his address.

It’s been perhaps two months since he has been regularly receiving gifts almost every week. They are all somewhat romantic and cliche - which could fit with James’ persona but Regulus is still weirded out that he never mentioned or signed them. A large bouquet of roses, bath products and expensive lotions, a poem, a mix-tape on a CD and even a watch somehow ended up for him. They are all expensive but it doesn’t quite charm him.

The poem and the mix-tape are more personal but even then Regulus doesn’t find anything interesting - he would honestly be surprised if they are from James but no one is perfect and their tastes are probably very different. All of his friends are convinced it’s from him and Regulus is conflicted at the idea. The expensive watch is left in its box as he doesn’t really like the feeling of something constricting his wrists and the lotions just smell wrong - James has commented on the vanilla scent on his hair before so he should know better to buy what Regulus prefers.

The box is only addressed to him: Regulus Black. There is no real hint to guess from who it might be. He hesitates to check his phone where James must have answered to him already because he apparently has nothing better to do in his life than text him.

“You can’t be sure. It’s anonymous which means it could be from anyone,” he says as he tears the wrapping paper off. “And we only work together so why should I call him by his name.”

“You call me by my name and we work together. Also Evan. And Barty. Even if he doesn’t really work here, he is always in Evan’s office or under his desk.”

“I don’t want to picture what’s going on in his office and even less where Barty hides,” he huffs with a disgusted noise. “And you’re special Pandora, that’s why.”

She blinks at him before beaming, leaning forward to watch him open the unmistakable box of chocolate. “More special than James Potter?”

“Obviously,” he replies easily and returns her smile before frowning at the sweets. “Wait, these are incredibly expensive and rare to get.”

“Really?” She peeks at the chocolates. “It does smell good.”

“They are from Switzerland.” He offers her the card describing the taste of all the different chocolates like it’s the best-sellers of poetry in French. “I only ate those when we travelled to France to visit family when I was young,” he explains. “They have only one shop in Paris and just to get a box you need to call at least three months before to have a small chance of getting one. It’s been years since I saw one of these.”

“So James went to France or Switzerland to buy these for you?” Pandora asks and picks one to eat it.

“I doubt it. He hasn’t been missing work since he started to bother me. Plus they don’t ship them, I know that because Sirius moaned about it for hours last year for his birthday.”

“They are so good!” She exclaims and works her mouth around the taste, hastily licking her lips with a look at the chocolates. “Which one is your favourite? Just so I don’t eat all of them.”

He distractedly points them out and lets her have her share before retrieving his phone. This gift must have cost a lot and the whole ordeal to even get them here must have been a pain in the ass. No one in their circle has travelled to France either and Regulus isn’t even sure that he told about these chocolates to other people outside of Sirius. There are memories better left forgotten.

He doesn’t open the unread message from James yet, playing with his phone as he tries to picture how he might have heard of them. There is still no proof that it’s from him but Regulus certainly hopes so. The last time he ate these chocolates comes back to his mind.

“Oh crap.”

Pandora looks up with one cheek full and licking one of her fingers. “What?”

“My parents.”

She frowns, straightening in her seat with no trace of previous joy or amusement. “Yes?”

“They used to let people write articles about me and Sirius when we were kids,” he recalls. “To show us off as the next brilliant minds of our generation because wealthy people have nothing better to do than cause jealousy and advertise their lives to others.”

“I remember. You were so cute as a child, always pouty and with a frown. Baby Black.”

He throws a small glare. “Well, I remember one Christmas they followed us all the time outside on our ‘family walks’, which of course has never been a real thing, and we went to this chocolate shop to pick a box. They asked me and Sirius if we liked them and why.”

Pandora frowns slightly. “And you think James found this article, bought these for you?”

“I sure hope he didn’t. These articles are awful and I don’t need him to know about my family.”

“Aw, he would still love you.”

Regulus flushes. “Shut it or you won't get any more chocolate.”

She snorts and hands one to him before eating another sweet. It’s still as great as he remembers but he finds himself more focused on his phone.

James: I’m sure even the murderer will agree with me though and I always fight for the truth

Are you mad?

I’m not mocking you, I promise

I won’t call you pretty again if you don’t want me to

Once we finish this case let me buy you dinner!

Anything you want

Really

Regulus shouldn’t enjoy getting so many texts like that. James obviously texts and thinks at the same time, always needing several texts when he could have fit everything in one. His toes curl in his shoes at the idea of dinner with him. It’s not the first time he has offered to buy Regulus dinner - or breakfast or lunch or a snack - and he agreed some rare times because it always leaves him reeling for the rest of the day. James has an effect over him that should be illegal.

“What is he saying?” Pandora playfully whispers.

He purses his lips and taps his finger on the phone as he thinks of an answer. “The usual.”

“Why aren’t you going out with him? Everyone here knows that you like him despite what you say. And I’m convinced that he knows it too.”

“He went out with Lily here before.”

“And? You had exes too. Lily and him are on good terms but just friends.”

“They almost got married and planned to have a child,” Regulus scoffs. “This is not just a random ex.”

“Are you jealous?”

He purses his lips. “No.”

For a time maybe he was. Regulus has known James before they started to work together because everyone likes Lily and talks about her and her fantastic fiance-to-be. There is no clue on why they never got engaged and only came back as friends. James had never come by this area of the laboratory but Regulus has spotted him picking up or dropping Lily off over the years. They were the perfect soulmates and he only allowed himself to trail his eyes over James here and there before focusing on his own life.

Somehow, they work together now and he seems to have taken a liking to pester Regulus one way or another - always flirting or trying to make him laugh which might be the same thing after all.

“You should give him a chance, Reggie. I have a good feeling about it. You would be so cute together.”

“If his taste in music is anything to go by then one of us will die before the third date.”

Pandora grimaces. “Ouch, the mix-tape was that bad?”

“If they are from him. The gifts are expensive but generic,” he explains. “He might have bought it from a random shop really.”

Regulus doesn’t have anything against cliches but outside of the chocolates, nothing is really pleasing him. Which is a bit surprising considering all the details James tries to get from him. He will never be more relieved that Sirius and James never crossed paths when either of them dropped by. They would probably hit off right away and Regulus’ intuition is rarely wrong. Plus Sirius would give all the embarrassing details about him to James without thinking twice.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too strong?” She supposes. “The chocolates are great though, right? Maybe the next ones will be better.”

“Still, it doesn’t mean it’s Potter.”

“You need more faith.”

“You had enough chocolate,” he decides and closes the box despite her distressed gasp.

“Wha- Reggie! Come on, think about it. Why would he come see you in the lab’ all the time when there is more than often a dead body next to you.”

Regulus rolls his eyes but stays quiet. She wouldn’t listen to him either way. The possibility that James comes, despite how uncomfortable he is near the corpses, to just see him is one that already tingles his brain. Still, Potter never truly asked him out on a date; all of it could be out of friendliness. He turns back to his phone.

Regulus: Thoughts on chocolates?

James: Love it

Do you want some?

He squints at his phone but he isn’t really surprised by the answer. There's still no hints whether James is the one sending all these gifts and indulging in the fantasy can be dangerous.

Pandora doesn’t insist and walks out of his office and the building with him, sharing her thoughts on what they have found so far on the corpse. It’s messy and they don’t have much yet but it’s enough to distract him. He leaves James’ text on read and decides that he deserves a night where he stops thinking about feelings and whatnot.

When he is at home, he checks his phone and feels somewhat relieved that James didn’t send another text. Regulus never feels like he is quite on his feet when it comes to him - not quite without gravity but also not down on earth with a full control of himself.

Pandora almost finished the chocolates by herself and he is happy that someone enjoys it. The bad feeling probably comes from all his memories of his childhood, triggered by the sight of this brand. It could also be Pandora’s wishful thoughts about James and him that bums him out. Regulus picks a chocolate to eat and tries to ignore it.

Sirius has sent him a picture himself, clad with his endless leather jacket for good luck, to inform him that he has the hottest date ever tonight. Regulus snorts and opts to reply with a barfing face before taking his shower. He hopes it goes well for him because his brother has been mooning over this date forever. If it’s a disaster, Regulus might just book a trip to stay away from Sirius’ sobs and lament.

Just when he has finished his shower, he is surprised by his front door ringing. Regulus hasn’t ordered anything and he doubts that Sirius decided to drop by before his date. A series of knocks follow and he sighs at the insistence.

“Who is it?” He rolls his eyes and finishes putting on his dark green clothes for the night before walking toward his front door. “Hello?”

It would be crazy and he feels silly at the thought but could it be Potter? He hadn’t answered his last text and he wouldn’t be surprised that he truly believes that Regulus is mad at him and shows up with his favourite take-outs to soothe him like it had happened for long cases. The thought truly pleases him and he catches his reflection blushing on his way to the front door.

“It’s— I’m your neighbor, Mr. Melbourg.”

Regulus frowns in surprise before recalling him. He figures something is wrong and needs help and since he already answered, it would be rude to completely ignore him now.

It’s not he knows. He doesn’t have the time to ask or procede the stun gun plunged into his neck.

Regulus wakes up to the rain on his face. He is uncomfortable but he barely has the strength to blink his eyes open. Wherever he is lying is wet, uneven and the edges dig into him.

He can’t turn his head and his neck seems to burn. He hisses in pain when more drops of water fall on him. His eyes request a long time before offering any proper sight. The rain is scarce but the hole in the roof gives them all the chance to fall down on him.

“Shit,” he hisses out when a drop dives right into his left eye.

Another grunt of pain leaves him as he stubbornly raises a hand to cover his eyes. The wind rattles around him as he realises that he is adorned in a white shirt with long sleeves with dark smudges here and there. His fingers are also coated in a liquid. When the smell of blood catches up to him, Regulus realises that he is not at his apartment anymore.

He sits up as fast as he can despite the torture but he is shot with a wave of nausea and his body slips out of his grasp. His head thrums in pain as he forces himself to get on his elbows and slowly sits up. What he previously wore has been replaced by ivory clothes. The weak lamp near the hole of the roof swings with the wind without giving much light. Regulus can barely discern his whole body and that he is at the bottom in a large hole.

Something cracks beneath him when he tries to stand up. Regulus stares down at his bare feet, wet and cold, before he manages to focus on the decomposed body almost touching him. His breathing starts to panic.

No matter where he looks, there are only corpses. Regulus is sitting in a pit of death and he makes the mistake to look around him to finally realise what just cracked is a bone under him. He hastily tries to get on his feet despite the white noise overwhelming his thoughts.

Regulus stumbles and is too disoriented to make it far, falling back into the rotten meat acting as a floor. There is a small pool of blood, only coming back up where his weight is, but it clings to his skin and clothes. His eyes try to stay afloat but there doesn’t seem to be any exit out of this pit. Everything is cold and the tears clinging to his eyes is the only thing warming him up. He swallows and stands up as best as he can, shaking off the tingling going through his body.

They kidnapped him. Whoever showed up at his house dropped him here and yet he is alive. Everything else around him is dead, with or without flesh, and the blood appears to have been left there to pool. He can’t see what’s underneath it - if the ground is bleeding out from the quantity or they are in something akin to a pool. The walls of the hole are made of dirt. Regulus’ fingers might be able to reach out of it but he doubts that he could hold on to something to drag himself up. His throat is still burning and he cautiously pats it to feel where he was stunned. It’s painful and he is still groggy despite the shot of fear and adrenaline keeping him awake.

It’s worrying that he is still alive. He hopes that his kidnapper isn’t some psychopath eager to watch people become crazy at the bottom of this hole and beg for food and water. No one else is wearing clothes beside him except for two skeletons also dressed in white fancy clothes.

They are laying next to each other with their hands put together. Compared to the other corpses, they are perfectly clean if not shiny, but what catches his attention are the jewelleries and especially one of the rings.

It’s uncomfortable to walk but he rushes to get closer, navigating through the loose bones and flesh, falling on his knees and grunting in pain until he gets closer. With a trembling hand, he grabs the limb of the skeleton in the stark bleached tuxedo to be sure that he isn’t hallucinating. The ring is with no doubt the old relic of the Black’s family. Sirius could have inherited it but refused, just like Regulus did.

“Father?” He whispers, letting go of the hand to look closer at the brooch resting on his chest; exactly what his father used to wear, just like the cufflinks.

What he assumes is his mother has her dedicated necklace and her earrings stapled into the skull. Regulus stays quiet in stupor before noticing that he had been placed beneath and between them, laying in the same way, and he has an uncomfortable feeling about the numerous other corpses under him without any clothes or distinction.

It can’t be their parents. He is sure of that. Sirius and he refused to get them buried, not after they finally escaped them, and just like for their father who died years before their mother - they cremated them and flushed down the toilet.

“They never respected us alive so why should we?” Sirius had said without any kindness as he shook their urns empty.

Regulus’ hand had rested on the flush button, waiting for him to finish. “Because we are better than them?” He had replied, not requesting for a real answer.

Their eyes had met and the last wash of the urn was thrown in the toilet. “Not tonight,” Sirius had declared and Regulus triggered the flush.

It’s not their real corpses but the jewellery can not be random. Whoever prepared them, obviously caring, knew what they were doing with every detail down. Regulus is also dressed in white just like them and it pushes him to quickly distance himself. Whose skeletons are these? They obviously dressed them up as Orion and Walburga Black and it must have cost a fortune to get their hands on these relics. He wouldn’t have known himself how to retrieve them and as their son it would have been probably easy.

He manages to reach a wall, grimacing at the bones breaking painfully under his bare feet with the blood slithering up. The lamp above him is no help so he tries his best by feeling up the dirt and rocks for any escape. It takes him three tries to find the right footing to stretch himself as much as he can and dabble with a hand the surface next to the hole. It’s rough polished stone, nothing he can grab on to, and he can’t see anything standing on any side of the edges.

Amongst the corpses, he doubts he can find anything useful. He could take the clothes off his false parents to tie them together but he doesn’t see what use it would be. The rain continues to peacefully fall through the gape of the roof.

His kidnapper obviously had to come down this hole at some point. The impostors had been cautiously placed, hands together, and Regulus has a suspicion that they clean the bones and polish them just by the look and feeling of it. They must use a ladder but it couldn’t be placed in a safe way with how uneven the floor is thanks to all the water, blood, bones and guts.

Regulus toddles his way through the hole, wishing to find any spot where his footing isn’t wobbly. There is no other sound outside from the cracks, splotches and the rain. He hopes it’s a good sign that this psychopath isn’t around.

Why is he alive? The stun gun could have been a knife and even here, he could have easily been slaughtered and thrown into the pit with the rest of them. He doesn’t hope that his kidnapper assumed that he was dead - it would have been easy to check. The clothes are starting to cling to him and he feels sick at the realisation that he has been changed unconscious. Nothing hurts thankfully but the lack of underwear doesn’t help his imagination.

A rock stands out. It barely is noticeable but Regulus is sticking to the wall to help his walk and so can see that it sticks out. He tries to move it with no result, hopefully a sign that it’s larger than it looks. It’s not far off the ground, meaning he could try to put a foot on it to gain some height, but there isn’t enough surface to have a clear handle.

He takes a deep breath, feeling his teeth rattle and the nausea climbing up to him. His fingers shake but they dig into the dirt. A large part of the wall might fall down if he disrupts it too much. There is no hint on whether it’s unstable but it feels solid to his hands. With no other exit, he tries his luck there by clearing as much space above the rock for him to hopefully use it as a hooking point. If the whole structure crashes down on him then he might have the chance to die right away.

It hurts as he becomes more desperate. Nothing down here can attack him - they are all dead already but he hurries. Anything that comes from above might be dangerous and he really doesn’t want to stick around for that. He has been at home all alone, with no plans with anyone, and Sirius is busy on a date which means that if he gets lucky then he will only contact him in the afternoon tomorrow.

Maybe it’s already been a day or two since Regulus laid down amongst the dead but the rain has started on his way home, which could mean he isn’t far from the city and it might not have been long since his kidnapper got him.

His fingers ache from the cold and the effort but has cleared enough to have a somewhat footstool. Regulus looks up at the rain with a faint wish. The relief and joy plummets with him at his first try. He falls nastily and a bone digs into his hip like a rough knife. Thankfully it hasn’t truly stabbed him but the pain is there.

His feet are wet with blood and he stands up miserably before tearing one of the sleeves of his shirt to dry one as much as he can. He can’t stay long on it, the stone is still small and slightly leaning toward the hole, so he only takes a peek to see if someone is around before heaving himself painfully out of the pit.

Nothing is grimy and wet but the odour is still clinging onto him. He heaves out in relief and quickly takes a proper look around. It’s a small church, abandoned by the look of it. There is electricity though by the look of the few lamps. A ladder is not far against a row of seats on the ground.

No sound reaches him and Regulus tries to take it as a good omen. The lack of city noise worries him though. There aren’t many churches abandoned in the city either way so it must be outside of it. He cautiously makes his way, trying to not breathe too loud.

The front doors are sealed, no matter how much he pushes or pulls. All the windows are tall but he could break one of them by throwing something and climbing with the ladder or a seat. Still, he has no idea where he is and there is a chance that the psychopath is around. His body has shaken off all the grogginess and the tingling due to the stun gun but it’s enough to subdue all the pain. One single door is on the left of the church and it’s only thanks to the lack of noise that he makes his way toward it. His bare footstep would have probably been heard by now if someone else was in here but perhaps the rain and wind covered him his track.

He waits at the other side of the door, lips pursed and breathing as silently as possible, before trying his luck. No one else is here but a large altar faces him.

“There is a creep who tried to talk to me,” Sirius had said, almost two months ago. “Some pervert asked me to sign one of our interviews from when we were 12 or 13, looking like a complete nut. I’m sure I saw him staring at me from the other side of the street after that but he ran too fast for me to beat him up. Just be careful in case he is one of these wankers still believing in the Old Black Family bullshit.”

Regulus obviously found him. Or the other way around. The altar is mostly dedicated to Sirius and him, with pictures from their childhood printed in magazines, cut and enlarged, and more recent one - Regulus going to work, eating dinner with Sirius, grocery shopping. Same goes for Sirius. There are parts of the interviews too with words high-lightened amongst the candles, Latin words carved into real bones and an obvious bowl of blood which smells to be used as paint.

There are two small notebooks brimming with pages; one dedicated to him and the other to Sirius by the placement beside their larger recent picture. He opens his and finds a summary of him with cut-outs of clothes, items, jewelries and events like the movie or the opera in it.

All the gifts he has received have obviously come from him. He exhales through his nose to not throw up.

Sirius hasn’t mentioned any gifts but then he might have scared him off enough to not even try on him. Regulus doesn’t remember any creep and he doubts he has missed it so perhaps he has changed his method with him. He has been stupid enough to believe Pandora and her theory that it’s James who tried to charm his way in. Of course he has a bloody creep after him.

He closes the notebook. There are pictures of their whole family on the altar too, even some he can’t recognize. This person is definitely one of these people who would have blindly followed their parents. Their family created an empire of fortune but they also cultivated a fanaticism around them, akin to a religion, and their parents used all of it to expand their control. Be it their habits, wishes and everything else that made people look at them like some kind of meshias. Sirius nor him actually need to work and when Regulus went to college they tried to offer everything to him with the same thought that he is some kind of idol.

This could explain why this mad man made corpses to look like Walburga and Orion. It could be their grandparents’ skeletons since their parents’ remains are none. The amount of corpses in the pit, some fresh by the amount of flesh, blood and the smell, and all the blood used up as some kind of decorations– this is nothing more than a bloody ritual that their parents would have come up with to see people hurt themselves for their pretty eyes.

He takes the rest of the room in. There is a simple bed and a table with a chair but nothing that he could use as a weapon. The light is better here and he sees his face in a stark white plate from the table.

His face has been painted on with blood. It has already dried and the feel of it comes to him with a vicious vertigo. There is a big smile engraved with the blood across his lips and cheeks. His eyes are circled and a sort of crown is drawn on his forehead.

Regulus needs to get out of here. There aren't any knives or guns, anything that could help him to get out or defend himself. Almost tempted to trash the room and the altar, he doesn’t need to because he finally finds a phone under the pile of old magazines.

His brain needs one second too long to remember any phone number. James would come right away and he is used to answering the phone in the middle of the night with his work. But the psychopath might have gone after Sirius. The altar is as decorated for him as for his brother which definitely means he wants him too. Sirius has seen the face of this mad man so he will know right away who to look for. His heart hammers and the phone rings in his shaky hand.

“Reggie, you better not cockblock me or-”

“Help me,” he sobs out with no shame.

He tries to breathe in and out to stop the cries but they are too strong.

“What?!” Sirius shouts and his voice becomes clearer. “Reggie, where are you?”

“I don’t know. This- the creep. He kidnapped me,” he gasps. “He is insane– there is-”

His brother screams and swears but the phone doesn’t catch everything with the ruckus going on behind him.

“This bloody pervert! Are you okay? Is he there?”

Regulus sniffs and leans away from the phone to try to hear something. “I don’t know. I’m– it’s a small church I think.”

“Okay, okay, Reggie keep breathing, alright?” He says but he is the one sounding more panicked and breathless. “I will come get you. I can find you. Is it a cellphone?”

“No,” he croaks out and manages to take a proper breath at the promise that he is coming for him. “I can try to get out by one of the windows.”

“You get out of there,” Sirius orders. “I will come get you, just run and I will fi-”

A shot echoes through the church. Regulus cries in pain and falls when his leg slumps once the bullet pierces through it. His ears ring and he barely finds the strength to open his eyes before his face is grabbed. He looks up at the wide smile.

“I should have known you’re smart,” the man purrs.

The phone is dead silent, swaying from its cord. He fights the grip the best he can but his leg ache and tugs at his nerves. His fingers scratch what it can but he only seems to get more pleasure out of his struggle.

“Let go of me!” Regulus barks out and gags when a hand grabs him by his throat.

“Shush, I don’t want to hurt you,” he mourns with a tender look clashing with the crazy shake of his eyes. “I’m sorry for your leg but I will take good care of you. You surprised me that’s all.”

He hauls him up but with the lack of air and the pain, Regulus can’t find his footing. His hands scramble to find some support. The grip lessens a bit but the pressure is still killing him.

“No worries, doll. I can replace your leg if we can’t save it.”

The man isn't taller or larger but he is easily in control despite the trashing Regulus tries as he is dragged out of the room. A hand digs into his hip and a nose dips into his hair to take a loud sniff. Regulus makes the mistake to use his bleeding leg to fight and the pain subdues him rather quickly. His head is starting to spin but he tries to ground himself by grinding his teeth together.

“Have you called your brother?” He asks and shuffles through the church where a bag sits on a seat. “I would have brought him here too but he was with this man— a nobody, impure and stupid.”

“What do you want?” Regulus hisses.

The pit is right beside them and Regulus fears that he is going to be thrown in there - with his wound, he won’t manage to get out. A knife isn’t far, next to the bag, and the man had slipped his gun back in his pants’ pocket. He doesn’t have the time to try to get it. His hands are pulled together within one, and he tries to kick but nothing slows him down as the psychopath ties his hands together with a plastic handcuff. It digs into his skin more than necessary and the man frowns at it.

“Does it hurt?”

“This bullet bloody hurts,” he snaps.

The man doesn’t get mad but squints at Regulus’ face. He purses his lips to not spit in his face. With how clearly unstable he is, Regulus can’t afford to make him mad. Sirius will save him without any doubt so he needs to stay alive until he gets there. His leg is bleeding and he doubts he has enough strength to run and even less outrun him.

“You shouldn’t speak like that. It’s bad manners, probably because of your brother,” he complains with a distressed look as he grabs his face. Regulus tries to shake it off. “Your brother has a big mouth, full of sins and depravity, but I will cure him. As long as he gets to eat in another way, he won’t need his mouth again. I will sew it shut until he behaves.”

Regulus’ eyes widen as the panic smothers him at his words. The man must have taken his steeliness as a good sign because he coes.

“But you’re my favourite Regulus. You have always been. I will love you now and forever. We can be a big family too. I know you’ve been missing your parents but we can bring them back. I have everything ready for it.” He tilts Regulus’ face, roughly stroking his cheeks before frowning. “You have lost your smile.”

Regulus tries to count his breathing to not completely lose it. Maybe he shouldn’t have contacted Sirius - his call doesn’t seem to worry the mad man. He has a gun. Sirius doesn’t. His brother is brazen and probably won’t think twice before coming here once he tracks the phone. He could do that blind, fingers flying over any laptop, but he will get caught and even he isn’t stupid enough to go against a gun. If he is ready to do some weird ritual to bring back their parents then he probably won’t hesitate to kill Sirius with the stupid hope to bring him back after.

Two fingers probe at him and he needs a second before realising that his lips are painted on. One of the man’s palms is cut open, bleeding, and he dips his fingers back in there before spreading it over Regulus’ face.

“Even as a child you never smiled,” he whispers, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. “I kept wondering— how would you look with one? You’re just so pretty, doll.”

It’s a kick in the gut and Regulus opts to return the favour as hard as he can. The adrenaline crams within him but he doesn’t care anymore. Breathing is not important when this psychopath has dressed him up like some kind of virgin and calls him doll. He doesn’t know where he is going with that but he immediately reaches out for the knife while the man wheezes and coughs with his hands around his throat. Regulus’ leg tugs at his nerves and he misses his chance at grabbing the knife by the sudden stumble.

He stops thinking and shouts when he is grabbed by his hair. With his thrashing and kicking, smashing with his tied hands, he manages to make the man fall along with him but he is still more clear-minded and quickly crushes Regulus to the ground.

“Why are you fighting back?! I’m giving you everything!” He screams and starts crying to Regulus’ despair. “I’m taking care of you! Didn’t you like my gifts?!”

“Let me go,” he seethes and tries to push him away. He is flipped on his back and the man sits on him, right in a spot that makes his leg bleed out worse. “Get off of me!”

“If you could look at you, you would understand,” he declares. “You must be hungry.”

Regulus’s eyes widen at the bleeding palm hovering over his mouth. He painfully purses his lips at the drops and punches him with his tangled hands, trying to hold him back. The pervert fights back, managing to stick his palm against his mouth but Regulus keeps his lips shut despite the pressure and the smell of the blood.

“We are made for each other love, you will get better if y-”

He throws his head forward as hard as he can. “Shit,” he groans out in pain as he feels the pain ricocheting through his skull.

By the moans and how the man fell, he definitely broke his nose, stumbling off Regulus to cradle his face. His leg aches too much and his stomach is ready to hurl but he pushes himself to stay focused. He notices how one hand full of blood drifts toward his gun. Putting all his strength into his good leg, he rams into the mad man as hard as he can to make him let go of it.

It’s enough to make the man tip over the edge of the pit but he grabs onto Regulus’ shirt, bringing him down too. He tries to save himself but his hands are tied with nothing to hold on and his wounded leg has finally given out.

They land on the numerous corpses, grunting in pain at the bones as the blood gushes out. The gun flew out of his hand but Regulus can’t spot where it is in his haste and his focus quickly comes back to the man rising and reaching out for him with a cry of fury.

Regulus is pushed down on his back, crying in pain at the bones digging into him, and hands fall on his throat. He wheezes at the pain as his hand scrambles for something, anything, that could get him out of this. His grip lands on something, stuck, and Regulus jerks it as hard as he can into the madman’s head.

The rain reaches out like an odd balm. This time it’s not blood like the one that fell from the psychopath when the loose rib stabbed through his throat. Some got into his eyes and ever since then he kept them closed.

The fresh water trickling down his face doesn’t soothe. Regulus considers that he is dead as he can’t feel anything outside from the crushing pressure on him. He is close to drowning and his ears are gasping around the icy liquid.

His eyes open to find the hole in the roof when he hears the regular bangs. He tries to get rid of the dead weight on him when a louder smash rattle throughout the church. His body shakes at the effort but can’t manage to get off the fresh death of him. It feels like he is floating and the blood fills him. The wound in his leg is definitely getting infected.

The familiar rumble of a motorcycle breaks him of his daze and Regulus takes a deep breath. It can only be one person.

“Sirius!” He shouts as loud as he can.

“Regulus!”

Regulus blinks up, surprised, before finally noticing James standing above him.

“James?”

“Oh God,” he blurts out, eyes wide and still on Regulus while the rest of him is completely dishevelled. “Reg’!” He doesn’t seem to realise what is in the pit because he jumps in it. Regulus watches him rush to him with no care for everything else. “Shit, are you alright?!”

His eyes burn but he tries to not cry. “I’m fine,” he croaks out.

James pushes the dead body off of him and falls to his knees to have a closer look at him. He cautiously cradles his face with his hands, eyes looking ready to cry.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Bloody hell, did he do something?”

There are more noises rising around them, one voice screams sounding awfully like Sirius, and Regulus catches some lights travelling above them. He is definitely losing consciousness.

“He shot me in the leg,” he articulates and James immediately looks at it but it’s probably drenched in blood and offers no view. “Just get me out of here please.”

“Of course, Reggie,” he stutters with a forced smile. “Just stay with me, alright? Please.” James shakes but hugs him firmly against his chest as he tries to adjust his grip on him.

It’s comforting and despite hearing him loud and clear, Regulus can’t help but let himself go. He hisses in pain and James immediately tries to move him another way. They barely move before something else falls down in the pit.

“Stop him!”

“Hey!”

Regulus jerks at Sirius’ voice and the ruckus above them. James holds Regulus up until Sirius punches him, leaving him with no support.

“Sirius!” He shouts the best he can as Sirius and James start to wrestle. “Sirius, stop! It’s not him!”

Sirius swirls to take a look at Regulus, fist tight and raised, with one of James’ hands almost in his eye. Regulus gestures at the man James pushed off of him and he finally relaxes his stance.

“Holy shit Reggie,” he gasps out, letting go of James who is relieved and quickly sits up with a hand touching his left eye, as he jumps on him to crush him in a hug.

“You’re hurting me, you moron,” he groans out but lets his head fall on his shoulder, feeling the leather jacket.

“We’re fine!” James exclaims, hastily retrieving his glasses to clean them up, to the several people around the pit. One flashlight drifts over all of them and Regulus is shocked to see his left eye red and starting to swell.

“Are you alright?” Sirius asks, close to crying by how wobbly his tone is and it starts to get to Regulus. “What did this creep do? What’s that on your face?”

“Probably his blood that he painted on me— shit Sirius,” he hisses when he starts to rub at it. “Just get me out of here before my leg gets more infected.”

“Holy shit, what the bloody hell is this?!” He shrieks when he finally takes in where they are.

James hurries to them when Sirius tries to stand up and carry Regulus, swooping in to also 

take a hold of him. He tries to not blush because it’s almost a bridal carry if Sirius ever lets go of him. The three of them are drenched in blood, which Sirius has yet to realise because he will surely scream about the state of his clothes and his precious leather jacket the second his brain wears off the adrenaline. Regulus finds himself coming down from his ups and downs rather quickly, head falling against a shoulder.

“Sorry about your eye, by the way,” Sirius says, “thought you were the pervert.”

James laughs, chest rumbling against Regulus, even if his left eye stays mostly closed after each blink. “It’s fine. To be fair, I wouldn’t have asked either.”

“Get me out,” Regulus mutters, eyes closed, as all his effort is put in his snapping tone.

“You should have told him that the whole dressing up as a virgin is too late for you Reggie,” Sirius teases.

“This psychopath actually told me you’re a bad influence on me,” he snipes back.

“Careful down here! We are bringing the ladder!”

He is a bit jostled and someone walks through the pit because of the noise. With a last burst of strength, Regulus opens his eyes to realise James is carrying him by himself and is watching Sirius walk toward the psychopath with the bone sticking out of his neck. His brother does what Regulus can’t, kicking him right in the head before turning him on his back with his foot and stepping with all his weight on his dick. It clearly doesn’t satisfy him and Regulus hopes that he doesn’t see the altar dedicated to them. Sirius’ attention is quickly moved away from his vengeance to the sight of the two skeletons dressed in white.

“Alright there?” James whispers, nose brushing against Regulus’ temple as a clumsy hand tries to keep his hold and reaches out to softly wipe his cheek.

He can’t swallow down the tears at the relief and the warmth. His leg feels dead but he ignores it to let his head snuggle against James’ wide chest.

“I’m fine… How did you find me?”

“Er, well I dropped by your place. And you weren’t there but your car was still in the parking lot. Your phone, keys and everything were still in there, but I only came in after calling Pandora who told me where you hid your spare key” he hastily explains and clears his throat. “I figured something happened to you so I tried all your friends. Your brother’s, er, boyfriend? I think. He called the police to tell them that you were kidnapped and that your brother apparently had an idea of where you were.”

“I called him,” he slurs as he feels his eyes dropping. “Why… did you stop by mine?”

James snorts and cautiously tightens his grip. “Couldn’t figure out if you were really mad at me. I wanted to drop by some chocolate since you mentioned- ”

“Forget about that.” Regulus really wishes he had the strength to hug back. “Ja-”

“Reggie,” Sirius cuts, his voice odd enough for him to actually pay attention. “Is this really what I think it is?”

James turns a bit for them to have a better view of his brother staring down at the dressed up skeletons. Regulus clears his throat and feels James’ fingers brushing over his neck.

“Dressed like our parents, yes,” he manages to say. “Talked about being a family, bringing them back.”

Sirius gags, hurrying back to them. “Where is this fucking ladder?!” He screams and tries to retrieve Regulus in his arms.

“Hey careful-”

“Get us out of here!” Sirius barks over James’ complain. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”

“Shut up,” Regulus hisses before he can’t reply.

His brother is definitely going to stick to his side for weeks. One of them is definitely going to die because Regulus won’t survive his pampering and over-protectiveness.

“Sirius. Calm down for God’s sake.”

James thankfully still has a hold on Regulus because Sirius spins on his spot to look above them at the disapproving face, slightly sick though, but the sight around him clearly makes him sick.

“Remus?! What are-”

“Did you really think I would just forget you telling me that a psycho got your brother as you tried to put back your pants on?” Remus scoffs, side-stepping when two people rush to the edge with a step-ladder. “I called the cops but I figured you might do something crazy.”

“He punched me.”

“Shut up,” Sirius hisses at James.

“I saw. You’re the second one he punched,” Remus dryly comments.

“Just get me out of here please.”

[justlikejohn]

hello i really really really really like the song bedroom community and i need to be autistic about it! what better place is there to do it than tumblr, eh? :3 fyi. i am not a very good musician and i know very little about actual music THEORY (didnt even do it for gcse lol) so forgive my poor vocabulary and my general ignorance, lol.

its this terribly emo style with this unabashed angst and cliché in its melody! it's clear glass beach is inspired by mcr because of this cover they did of welcome to the black parade - it influences their music in the BEST ways. like the scream at the end of the second chorus seems obvious but it makes me feel !!! so!!!! and using multiple voices in the end of the bridge with the "la"s is so classic but it fills me with so much Emotion. it feels like comradery. this bit of tune at the end of the chorus is like a punch to the gut to me!

its so well paced as well. a bit faster, at it would be folk-y, a bit slower and it loses that frantic driving force of the rhythm guitar and the drums - its just the right speed to take you through the story and aghjasjhgds

i do love the instrumentation, too. its got those gooood smooth synths with fun basslines and crunchy rhythm guitars! AND the drumming is good (and sounds like it was recording irl rather than done electronically! :D check 1:42 - the ride cymbal has some good organic variation that indicates this) which i care about a lot :))

most of all, i like the lyrics. my interpretation of the song is a story of a trans girl who kills herself. of course, i am not trans, so i am not good at inferring which lines were written about her transness, lol. its the consensus of a lot of glass beach fans, though! anyway, here:

it's almost mocking her in a way, here! the tone of the delivery is that shes "SO" depressed, and it states that she is naive: but that this is so genuine for her. it doesnt matter that its trivial, that a fly on the wall would judge the simplicity of her sadness, it is so real for her! she STILL sings, it's the only way she can cope. i just. you know when youre depressed and you cringe at yourself for your own incapability?? a different form of self-loathing, a loop of hating yourself because you hate yourself so much.

and then, everything cuts out but the synths and the vocals - which just conveys SO much to me, because its like. stop the emo crap. stop the drums and guitar and fun riffs because this is sincere. this is her life. this is her trying to get her shit together and being too mentally ill to.

AND LOOK! she's loved so SO much by the speaker. she ISNT useless like she believes herself to be. she laughs and is loved.

but. but, but, but, but! it doesnt even matter how much she is loved or that her life is worth so much. shell never break out of her box, her bedroom, in this bedroom community. gahhh!

like, here again: calling her a "stupid girl" to totally diminish her experience. "you probably caught this 'mental illness' from her. i bet youre faking, shes not a good influence." its so fucking mean and judgemental and it IS how she is treated!

and this is my favourite section of the whole fucking song. as if, when she kills herself, it was inevitable. as if it was destiny that she should be so fucking miserable she had to. as if people had tried to help her. as if its her fault. because it WAS murder! to let this happen to someone without caring or catching them. and importantly - its as "they" stop to look: its a third party judging this event! its not her, or her dad, or the speaker who loves her so much, its "them".

AND THESE LINES MAKE ME FERAL!!!!! to rifle through her journals and notebooks and diaries for her thoughts AFTER the fact. the care about her struggle AFTER shes dead. to violate her privacy to find words for a "liturgy" - its not what she wanted. does it even matter? it would fucking matter to her. and it transitions into a swung rhythm here rather than being straight - it's mirroring the relaxed tone of the lines! it's saying that this is so normal that it's casual and boppy. so, so, so, so, even after all this, shell never leave her bedroom in this bedroom community. shell always be trapped, because she was never able to leave. OUGH GOD.

AND THEN IT FUCKING TRANSITIONS INTO A KICKASS INSTRUMENTAL SECTION ??? LIKE. YES GIVE ME THAT SYNTHY BIT THEN THE ACAPELLA VOICES AND THE FUCKING PIANO-ASS-PIANO-SOLO.

and then it goes into those punchy "no"s and it feels like the singer is fighting something! like, they agree with themself by the end - "no, shell never leave her bedroom..." but its almost as if theyre trying to deny the tragedy! to resist the story! its so . anguished. god. and it does the tune again, and ends on something like wailing - the way the singer does "hates her life" makes me BELIEVE in it, yaknow ??

god. i listened to this song on my way to my first university open day and i was so, so scared. i heard the line "a girl who hates her life" and i thought, "hey, a song about me." i heard that she would never leave her bedroom floor. that she wastes all her fucking time. that she kills herself and people rifle through her diaries and notebooks for an explanation that isn't there because they don't want to see it. i listened to it on that school coach by myself on my tinny clip-on headphones (the ones that make me feel like an anime character) and i gripped that university prospectus and i tried not to cry! and i listened to it studying in the dark sixth form library and i listened to it on my good days out in the city on my own and i listened to it on nights i listed reasons not to kill myself over and over and over. and i showed it to all my friends and now i am showing to you! :))

[lutethebodies]

LTB Tav Tuesdays: Farago Heli, the Elven Exile

My fifth Tav is a work in progress, because unlike last week's ranger, this ranger has only existed in my homebrew 5e as an NPC, and in this case as the right-hand man of another more plot-important NPC at that. However, expanding on his backstory helped me worldbuild an entire conflict in which he was also a bit player, and I found that compelling to revisit if he were placed front and center. More so than that of the NPC he supported, even.

His name "Farago" (one R) is an obvious nod to the word "farrago" (two Rs): "a confused mixture, hodgepodge or medley." His background is a bit cliché—the taciturn ex-soldier who's "seen some shit"—but that also helps his personality suit his name: a farrago, as it were, of doubts, fears, hopes, and wishes. He's probably the most "man's man" type I'll ever play, but as a modest, competent expert instead of a beefy blowhard, because I have no time for macho crap (and neither does he). The "standard stoic Tav" expressions actually suit him well.

In 5e Farago is a Rogue Scout with the Soldier background, built that way to complement his party leader, a Hunter Ranger. His backstory was all about surviving a major regional conflict—the short but destructive Exiles' War where he'd joined the losing side as a picket—to become a freelance wilderness adventurer "exiled" from any official loyalties. He maintains a calm personality (not emotionless but not volatile) and is haunted by his battlefield experiences.

Farago is committed to people (friends and family, not nations or causes), and will never leave a comrade behind. He remembers every insult and nurses resentment against those who've wronged him, but he made a terrible battlefield mistake that cost many lives, which he cannot forget. Farago looks like an ordinary wood elf aside from his most prominent feature, a deep pink strawberry birthmark covering half his face, which he obscures behind greasy dark hair and wide-brimmed hats.

In BG3 (where of course Scout isn't a subclass) I went with Hunter Ranger with the Archery fighting style, which gets him close enough mechanically (though I do miss that ranged sneak attack). I'm not sure how that would square well with the BG3 story, but as a wood elf maybe he could have been part of the Grove's war against Thorm, and he simply doesn't talk about it much. Halsin is welcome to share those stories, but Farago ain't into it. His solo playthrough sits in Act 3 after finishing the House of Grief, but he's also part of my current multiplayer/multi-Tav current run—a "guys and dolls" raid-the-grove romp with only Cannor, Minthara, and Shadowheart.

Farago's romance is with Shadowheart, because he's patient and slow burns are worth it. In his solo run Minthara chased him at the end of Act 2, but he didn't forget the drow slurring him as "darthirr" during Act 1. Making sand castles with the charmingly awkward neo-Selunite Shadowheart (whom he suspects, but won't say out loud, sees her elven father in him) is much more his jam than any of the other companions. He's currently camped in the Lower City (a great source of new hats), so a big farm or small ranch with this young lady when all the tadpole shit is finished sounds just fine.

[rockshortage]

For val: 5, 6, 8, 11, 13, 15

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

I think she needs to be more fleshed out before I can name a specific thing, but:

Whoever asked her to give a speech will be regretting it very soon, because there is one topic she is always prepared to ramble on about. It is some sort of insane and passionate opinion she holds about something. Perhaps how it should be illegal to recycle the parts of a defeated battle robot into a new robot, those parts are now tainted with defeat, and they have no right to enter the battlegrounds again because the defeat will rub off on the new robot and make it suck more and she has the detailed tournament history charts to prove it!!

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

She will always listen to what her lil bro Gabriel has to say – although that doesn't necessarily mean she’ll follow the advice.

Definitely not taking any advice from RedEye, she cannot take a single thing that guy says seriously.

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

They frustrate her more often than not. The only time she likes figuring things out is when she’s messing with robots, but even then she needs to step away pretty soon after hitting a snag with something. Why won’t this thing just work the way she wants it to? 😠 She has a bunch of unfinished projects because of it.

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Maybe she’ll put a little bit to the side for emergencies but most of it will be spent in no time. First, the happy occasion demands a big ol’ party with no expenses spared. Then you need to take care of a bunch of things for yourself and your friends. Maybe some strangers too while you’re at it, fuck it. And while you do that you nourish yourself on expensive foods and drinks you’ve always wanted to try and hey – remember all that work you have to do that you don’t want to do? You can afford to employ an assistant now to do all that crap. Because of this, you will have more time to plan elaborate pranks on Redeye, which may require bribing a person or two (*cough* Gage *cough*).

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Maybe this is a bit clichée for a Lone Wanderer but I need to start somewhere ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That bible verse James teaches her early on in life, that was so important to the mother she never got to know, really becomes important to her too. There’s the core message of generosity in there, and it often guided her through her quests in the capital wasteland, even if it was to her detriment sometimes. She’s still generous these days, even as part of a raider gang, but perhaps a little smarter about it. Not as naïve as she used to be.

15. What would they consider a waste of time – other than school or work?

Hmmm, none of the options I came up with really grabbed me, but I think this one is the least boring of the bunch:

That whole courtship song and dance when someone is interested in being in a relationship is needlessly complicated and a drag to Val. What happened to just walking up to a person and asking them straight up if they’re interested? The whole romancing and flirting stuff comes after establishing a first baseline of what each person is looking for. Much easier that way.

[dawnarowdite]

I Didn’t Want to Fall (But Then I Stepped Right In)

——————————

“I looked up at your face and those eyes, they drew me in.”

“It was too late for me.”

————

Ivy gets sick, and Evelyn takes care of her

——————————

Title from “Cliché” by Mxmtoon.

I did 1/3 of this like 4 months ago and the rest over the last 2 weeks. Sorry if it hops around a lot, I’m still new to writing :’)

This can be read as a Oneshot for now while I work on the other installments in the series. This is an alternate universe to my main story btw!

Also Ivy and Evelyn are like in 8th grade in this so they are still young.

Enjoy!!

(3,243 words)

——————————

Ivy slowly opened her eyes, the bright light blinding her momentarily. She had a pounding headache and an extremely dry throat. She slowly sat up and suddenly got hit with a throbbing pain in the right side of her back. She slowly slid out of the small twin bed, making the pain in her back worse. She stumbled around, leaning against a nearby wall to regain her balance. Her head felt dizzy, and she was sweating profusely. She felt like she was high on some drug or something.

She slowly looked around and began taking in her surroundings, but she froze when she realized that this wasn’t her room, nor could she recognize it. They hid black walls behind tapestries and posters, and a bright red intricate rug sat on top of dark chestnut floors. The room was large, with little knickknacks and items were scattered throughout the floor. To the left wall, there was a long desk sitting in front of a large window with a sowing machine and the unsewn parts of what seemed to be a denim jacket. The black denim jacket had many felt flowers sewn on in a pretty pattern, connected by a long green vine. Leaning against the desk on the ground was a guitar with an intricate design on the base and the neck.

Ivy was just looking around in confusion when she saw a painting hanging on a nearby wall. She stepped forward and studied the painting closer, and she recognized where it was from. The painting was hers, but how is it here? Ivy swore that she threw that specific painting away after she accidentally ripped it. First, she wakes up in an unfamiliar room, feeling like someone drugged her, and now she finds old paintings she got rid of. She has to be dreaming.

It startled Ivy out of her thoughts when she heard the soft sounds of footsteps. Ivy freezes. She doesn’t know what to do. Is the person who kidnapped her cool? Or are they going to kill her? Ivy rushes back over to the bed and dashes under the many blankets piled on the bed. She peaks her head over the blankets, listening intently to the footsteps getting closer and closer. Ivy heard the slow turn of the doorhandle and she felt her entire body freeze. The door slowly creaked open and Ivy watched the familiar head of a fluffy-haired brunette peek from around the door.

“Evelyn?”

Evelyn looked up, and a soft smile formed on her face. She pushed the door entirely open and stood up, carrying a tray with soup and a bottle with an unrecognizable liquid inside. “You’re finally awake.” Evelyn happily whispered.

The older walked closer and set the tray down beside them. She brought her hand up to the other’s forehead and lightly rested her hand across it. Ivy hummed nicely at the cool feeling of the rings that decorated the elder's hand. “You’re burning up. How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Ivy mumbled. Her headache was killing her, her throat was painful, and she couldn’t even attempt to breathe out of her nose.

“Makes sense,” Evelyn smiled. “If you feel up to eating, I have some food that you can have."

Ivy was hungry, but she was slightly nauseous. She didn’t want to risk eating just in case. She didn’t want to throw up all over Evelyn. She shook her head and looked at the tray. In a glass bottle, there was a dark murky liquid. It looked viscous when it moved around in the bottle. “What’s that?” Ivy questioned.

Evelyn followed Ivy’s gaze. “Well, it’s a medicine that I made- I mean got for you.” Evelyn stumbled.

Medicine? That looks nothing like any of the medicine I’ve seen before. Looks like something Lucy would make. Ivy thought to herself. Ivy gazed up at the taller and noticed their nervous expression. Ivy could tell when the older was lying. For most, it’s hard to pick up on, but Ivy has known Evelyn for years. She could read the elder like a book.

Evelyn seemed to notice the judging silence because she quickly continued. “It should help with your fever, it will kill the headache and the sore throat. My mother uses it for my brothers all the time and it works like a charm.”

“Mmm,” said slowly.

Ivy always loved messing with the taller, so she messed with her a bit. “Nah, I’m good. You’ve probably poisoned it.” Ivy joked.

“What? No, I’d never do that! Why would you think that?” Evelyn rushed out, quickly becoming flustered.

“I don’t know. It’s probably poisoned,” Ivy said, trying her hardest to keep a straight face.

“What! No no no, trust me, it's not. I-I” Evelyn stuttered. Ivy couldn’t hold back her laughter and fell back onto the bed, a giggling mess. Evelyn was confused for a second before realizing what Ivy was doing. She scoffed and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Gods, why do I put up with you?” Evelyn sighed.

“Because you love me,” Ivy giggled. Evelyn felt her face warm up slightly. She knew it was just a joke, but she couldn’t help but blush at it. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt like this at the comment. They always joked like this, but this feeling was new. She turned her head to the side to control her quickly reddening cheeks. She stayed like that for a little, breathing in and out to calm her beating heart. Hearing a coughing sound to her right, she turned back towards the smaller.

“Heh bad idea to laugh with a sore throat,” Ivy whispered.

Evelyn shook her head and sat down next to Ivy. “Idiot,” she said under her breath. Ivy pushed Evelyn as hard as she could with the little strength she had. Evelyn held up the medicine again, handing it to Ivy. “This stuff is pretty strong, so it should kill your fever and help with the discomfort. Although it may knock you out for a little.”

Ivy nodded in understanding before bringing the bottle to her lips. She started sipping before gagging at the awful taste. “Oh yeah, I should mention that it tastes awful,” Evelyn added.

Ivy coughed violently. “Well, you could have told me that before!” She forced out. Evelyn laughed at the comment.

“Haha, sorry about that, it just slipped my mind.”

“Whatever,” Ivy grumbled.

She closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself for the awful taste she knew was about to come. She tilted her head back and downed the entire drink in one go. She grimaced at the thick and sticky feeling it left inside her throat. “That was awful.”

“Yeah, I’ve never gotten sick before so I never got to try it but from what I’ve heard, I’m a pretty lucky person,” Evelyn empathized, patting Ivy’s back.

“You’ve never gotten sick? Hard to believe.”

“Nah, I’m just immune to everything. Nothing can ever harm me,” the taller joked.

“Well, that’s probably going to change today because I probably just got you sick.”

“Nope! Impossible.”

“Yeah right.” The younger slurred.

They fell into a comfortable silence, something that didn’t always happen but wasn’t considered a bad thing by the two of them. Evelyn always enjoyed silence, something that might not make sense judging because she wants to be a musician when she grows up but, Evelyn never claimed she wanted to make sense. Anyway, Evelyn always believed in beauty in quiet, because when you’re silent, you can truly enjoy the beautiful sounds of the world around you.

However, between the two of them, silence doesn’t always last long. “So, how did I end up here?” Ivy asked. She couldn’t remember ever leaving school. The last thing she remembers is being in fourth-hour class with Evelyn, now, judging by the slightly darkened sky outside, that seemed like hours ago.

“Ah yes, so you know how earlier you said that you weren’t feeling too great. During class, I noticed you looked extremely pale and lethargic, so I was already debating taking you down to the nurse. And well, after the class ended, and when you went to stand up, you suddenly fainted. But I wasn’t able to catch you in time, so you may be a little sore from where you fell,” Evelyn explained.

Ivy nodded slowly. So I guess that explains why my back hurts so bad, she thought to herself.

Evelyn continued, “So I carried you down to the nurse's office with the help of a teacher and sat with you while they called your dads. But the nurse said they were out of town, so I offered to take you home since I don’t live far away. The nurse was hesitant at first but I called my mom and she picked us up and dropped us off here, my brothers and dad are out-of-town boys' boys trip and my mom has a party to go to so it’s just us tonight.”

“Oh thanks, Evelyn, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I would. You’re my best friend Ivy.”

“Well, I know how your dad is with not letting people over, so I’m sorry if it was hard to get both of them to agree.”

“Oh, no! It’s fine, don’t worry, I had it all handled. I mean, they were angry about it, especially with it just being us, but I got her to at least agree. After all, it’s only for a little while so it should be fine,” Evelyn quickly reassured, however the nervous expression from earlier seemed to reappear on Evelyn’s face.

“Are you sure? If it’s too much of a problem, I can make it home by myself. I’d hate to be a bother.”

“Ivy, I am not letting you walk home like this, especially when it’s this late. It’s way too dangerous and you could get hurt.”

“Evelyn, it’s not that bad, I swear. The thing you gave me is already helping me feel better. I should be alright going back, it’s not too far of a walk anyway-”

“No, I am not letting you walk home,” Evelyn interrupted, leaving no room for argument. Ivy groaned loudly and performed an Oscar-worthy eye roll. She flopped down flat onto her back, ignoring the slight pain the action caused there.

“Why are you so overprotective of me? I can handle myself, Evelyn, you don’t gotta baby me.” Ivy waited for a couple of seconds, waiting for some kind of witty remark from the taller. After receiving no such response, Ivy sat back up. Ivy noticed an annoyed glare staring straight into Ivy. “What’s with the angry face, huh?” Ivy teased, causing Evelyn’s eyebrows to furrow even deeper.

Ivy raised her hand and rested it on top of the other’s hair. She rubbed her hand back and forth, ruffling the soft brown locks. She pulled her hand back, looking at the mess she made of the other’s hair. Her eyes were completely covered by now messy curls and Ivy smirked at the deadpan expression that the other wore. “Aw, come on, don’t give me that face,” Ivy teased. The other gave no response, but Ivy could make out a sharp glare from behind the curls.

Ivy rested her head in her hand and gazed up at the girl in front of her. As Evelyn lowered her gaze to look at her, she tried her hardest to fight the urge to break her faux-angry face. Evelyn noticed Ivy’s face light up for a split second before she saw it turn into a smug grin. Evelyn cocked an eyebrow in confusion at her face. However, the confusion didn’t last for much longer. Ivy suddenly sprang up and captured Evelyn in a bear hug, causing the other to let out a small grunt at the sudden force. As Ivy settled into the taller’s arms, she hummed nicely at the warmth that she always seemed to radiate.

The unexpected hug shocked Evelyn, causing her hardened face to fall. A million thoughts raced through her mind in less than a millisecond, thoughts that are things you shouldn’t think about your best friend. She couldn’t help the bright pink color that rose to her cheeks, daring to rival Ivy's dyed stands of bubblegum pink hair. Evelyn felt butterflies dance around her stomach, twirling and flapping with glee. Evelyn thanked the Gods that Ivy was utterly oblivious to the thoughts going on inside her head right now.

Ivy let go of the older and sat back into her previous position on the bed, and Evelyn couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at the loss of warmth she once felt. “There we go. There’s that smile I love,” Ivy teased. Evelyn rolled her eyes and shook her head in annoyance. However, she still unwillingly craved another hug from the other.

She closed her eyes to erase the thought from her mind, but they suddenly shot back open at the feeling of soft hands combing their way through Evelyn’s mess of curls. Evelyn didn’t know if her face could get any redder at this point.

Suddenly, a soft ringtone played, making her turn around to grab her phone resting on the nightstand. Evelyn’s mind was overrun with so many thoughts that it completely drowned out the conversation that Ivy was currently having on the phone.

“Bye Dad, I love you! I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Love you, bye!” Ivy hung up the phone and placed it back on the nightstand. She turned back towards the taller. “So good news. My dads said they were okay with me staying here. They will be home tomorrow, so I’ll either need a ride home or I will need a place to sleep here.” Ivy waited for a response from the other, but after a few moments, there was no sign of the sentence being received.

“Hello, Earth to Evelyn,” Ivy waved their hand in front of the taller’s face. "Evelyn?"

Evelyn jumped out of her thoughts, blinking rapidly in confusion. Ivy giggled softly to herself, finding the older’s lost looks amusing. “Sorry, I spaced out. What were you saying?” Evelyn sheepishly asked.

“I was just saying how I either need a ride home or a place to stay here.” Ivy noticed her voice began slurring a bit, she also began feeling more dizzier than before.

“Oh, if you felt better, we might give you a ride home. If not, I’m sure you could stay here for the night.”

“Would your parents be alright with that?”

“I’ll make them okay with it,” Evelyn smugly replied.

“Sometimes you are way too overprotective of me,” Ivy teased. Ivy received a dramatic eye roll and a playful shove in response. Ivy couldn’t help but wince at the pain the rough action caused in her back. “Ouch, I must have taken a terrible fall.”

Evelyn guiltily looked away. “Yeah, I didn't notice fast enough, and by the time I did, you were already on the floor. It was a pretty bad fall, took out a couple of chairs even.” She reached a hand to rub the back of her neck. “Does it hurt bad?”

“Yeah,” Ivy muttered. She reached a hand down to rest on the area, giving a slight rub before letting out a sudden yelp of pain. F-ck, bad idea. Her back now throbbed horribly, making Ivy bite down on her lip roughly, hard enough to draw blood. What the hell made it hurt this bad? Gods, this is probably the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.

“Ivy, are you ok?”

“F-ck I don’t know…” Her back throbbed painfully. It felt hot yet cold at the same time. “Gods, that hurt so bad,” she whined.

Gods, I can’t imagine how this feels. She must be feeling so much pain right now. I wish I could help her, but I can’t. I need to do something though, I can’t let her be in pain… Evelyn shook the thought from her head. No, no, it’s too dangerous. She could tell someone, and then we’d have to move again. But she wouldn’t do that, right? I trust her; I trust her more than anything. Evelyn chewed on her lip, biting off a couple of layers of skin accidentally. But we also trusted Mark and looked where that got us.

Evelyn kneeled to be on Ivy’s level, rested a hand on Ivy's back, and rubbed softly. She pulled her hand back quickly when she saw Ivy flinch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ivy let out a shaky breath. “Can you tell me where it hurts?”

“Along my right side.”

“Ok, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Evelyn reassured. “Are you comfortable? Do I need to move you?”

“I don’t know… I’m fine for now, though.” Ivy shifted around uncomfortably for a bit before settling down into a better position laying on her left side.

“I’m so sorry I let you fall. This is all my fault,” Evelyn mumbled bitterly. Ivy wanted to tell Evelyn off for blaming herself, but she was feeling tired. The medicine seemed to work. Ivy yawned tiredly. “You should get some sleep. Sleep is the best medicine, after all.” Evelyn suggested with softness in her tone.

“What about you?” Ivy yawned. “Where will you sleep?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can either sleep on the couch or the floor. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“That’s… not fair to you. You deserve to sleep somewhere better. You shouldn’t sleep on… floor.” Ivy can barely hide the slur in her voice and she was stumbling over words lazily now.

“It’s alright, I’ve slept on the floor plenty of times, I’ll be okay,” Evelyn waved off.

“You can just sleep next to me. I don’t mind.” Ivy smiled sweetly. Evelyn was very grateful that Ivy was delirious so that she wasn’t able to see the way Evelyn turned as red as a peach at the innocent suggestion.

“Oh no no no, I’m alright. You get some rest and I’ll see you when you wake up!”

“But-” Ivy cut herself off with another yawn. She grumbled something incoherent before shifting down farther into the bed. Ivy looked at Evelyn expectantly, like she was waiting for something. “Help.”

“Help? With what?” Ivy slowly motioned to the sheets that were pushed to the end of the bed.

“Sheets” Ivy demanded, however the demand sounded more like a wine than a command. Evelyn laughed, finding humor at Ivy’s attempt at a command. Evelyn knew that if Ivy was less sick she would give Evelyn a smack across the head for that. But this time the sick girl didn’t seem to notice.

Evelyn rested the dark maroon sheets down softly around ivy’s tired form, and tucked the many blankets around her body. Evelyn looked back down at the younger and laughed quietly at the now sleeping form of the other. Evelyn tucked a small strand of brown hair behind Ivy’s ear. Evelyn smiled sweetly and reached over to the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It clicked softly as darkness filled the room, the only light coming from the quickly disappearing sun in the window.

Evelyn walked towards the door and opened it quietly. She looked back at Ivy’s sleeping form one last time and spoke softly into the evening’s air, “goodnight Ivy, sweet dreams…” She closed the door softly and whispered the last part to herself. “I love you…”

—————————

I love how Evelyn is slowly becoming a simp and Ivy is completely and painfully oblivious.

Have a good morning, afternoon, and night! And make sure to stay hydrated! <3

-Aurora 🌻