#it was just so. like why did this have to even be branded as a barbie movie if you didn't really care

[kenyatta]

In his first term, Trump put some strategic tariffs on China, charging roughly 20-30% tariffs across a host of goods, but with a bunch of exemptions. Apple’s iPhone never got tariffed, for instance, and a lot of medical supplies went untouched. There’s a lot of hot air about tariffs increase consumer prices, but that’s not always true. The first round of Trump tariffs mostly didn’t increase consumer prices, but came out of corporate profits, so they didn’t generate inflation.  Why is that? Well it’s important to recognize that tariffs don’t apply to the retail price of a good, but to its wholesale price when imported. So a Nike shoe might cost $150 retail to an end consumer at a store but that’s before markup; Nike is paying $20 for it from a Chinese supplier. The $130 difference between what the Chinese supplier charges and the end American consumer pays is a mark-up, and it goes to Nike for branding, distribution, profit, etc. The tariff is charged on the $20. So even a very large 50% tariff will be just $10, which means Nike will still have a giant cushion, and can choose whether to pass the tariff along or reduce its profit, or both. Or it can negotiate some of the cost with its Chinese supplier.  This time, because the tariffs are hitting every sector, consumer prices are likely to change, though it will differ industry-by-industry. There are plenty of companies who have to raise prices to cover costs. But another reason for price hikes could be “seller’s inflation,” aka there’s market power throughout the economy, and corporations with such power have an excuse to charge higher prices, as they did during Covid. They can just blame Trump, and collect more profit. On the other hand, companies are scared of the new administration. So, for instance, Apple’s CEO Tim Cook may decide he will simply eat the extra $35 or so charged on each iPhone, and lose a few billion in profit, rather than anger Trump.

[neeeooon]

when you’re on your period ;

blue lock x afab!reader

isagi yoichi

-> #panicking

-> that one boy in class who skipped the period video cause the word “blood” made him pass out, so now he knows next to nothing about periods

-> lived a peaceful life of fake-it-til-you-make-it until he started dating you

-> “hey, isagi? do you mind picking some pads up on your way back from practice?” “… like make-up pads?” “uh, period pads?” “period pads?” “… for blood?” “bl—“ and he sees stars

-> you have to sit him down and give him “the talk”

itoshi sae

-> feigns disinterest but is a total secret sweetheart

-> he’d drag his feet a bit when you ask him to grab ice cream for you, but will buy four pints of every flavor you ever mentioned liking

-> when sae returns with bags of ice cream, you cry

-> he freaks out a little, though he knew it was likely due to your hormones. “did i get the wrong kind..?” “YOURE SO CUTE I CANNOT STAND YOU.” “should i leave—“ “PLS HUG ME RN.”

itoshi rin

-> like isagi, he is clueless

-> you don’t have to have “the talk” but you do tell him that he’s going to be annoying to you no matter what he does for the next few days

-> he’s lowk offended but tries not to take it to heart. even when he grabbed a little too much of the blanket you were sharing and fell off the couch when you snatched it back

-> rin doesn’t fear many things. he has issues, yes, but none that count as a “fear”. he quickly realized he is very afraid of you on your period

-> he’d be hiding in the bedroom when you throw the door open and tackle him. “honey! let’s watch grey’s anatomy reruns!” “NOOOOO” as you drag him to the couch

bachira meguru

-> he grew up with a single mother. he knows what to do

-> knows before your period starts that it’s coming and stocks up on supplies: products, teas, snacks, towels, etc.

-> you get super depressed on your period, so bachira acts as a ray of sunshine, bringing light everywhere he goes. it doesn’t always make you feel 100%, but you never have the heart to turn him away

-> bundles you in blankets like a cocoon and wraps his arms around your middle. “does it hurt?” “mm, not as much anymore <3”

kunigami rensuke

-> kunigami knows it’s just a part of life, and though periods really freak him out, he’s never let you know that

-> “hey, babe? can you please grab a tampon from my bag? the second pocket!” “tampon… tampon…” he finds your emergency stash and just hand everything to you since you had a few separate brands and he can’t tell which is better

-> you find his cute cluelessness endearing and thank him with a cheek kiss before going to clean yourself up

-> he does lots of research after that and will gladly let you drag him around the house to help you with things or listen while you rant/cry/beg for snuggles

chigiri hyoma

-> he has experience helping his big sister out when they were younger (not by choice) so this stuff doesn’t sway him

-> chigiri has such a chill presence that you don’t find him annoying, which surprises you because you tend to hate everyone on your period

-> though he hates it, he’ll entertain you and your antics. “i’m dying.” “you’re not dying.” “i’m dying and the only way i’ll survive is with a kiss. and an extra large cheese pizza. and a churro.” “*sighs*”

-> he’ll help you with your skin care when you’re too tired and play with your hair when you ask

yukimiya kenyu

-> omg such a gentleman

-> somehow he knows more about your period than you do?? when you tell him your side hurts, he rubs a spot you didn’t even point at, and all your pain vanishes

-> “are you a wizard?” “what was that, sweetheart?” “you’re a magical period vanquishing wizard, aren’t you?” “uh, sure!”

-> would love to take you to dinner to relax but knows you wouldn’t be caught dead out of the house, so he cooks for you instead

karasu tabito

-> you aren’t entirely sure why, but he is great when it comes to that time of the month

-> he claims he’s an “empath” and at first you thought it was a cheap flirting tactic, but your mind changed when he was able to pick up on your moods without even looking at you

-> somehow never gets on your nerves. it’s like he knows exactly where the line is and knows to stay very far away from it

-> karasu absolutely spoils you during this particular time of the month. let’s you pick everything without complaint, even when you’d usually decide on where to eat or what to watch together

-> “how much longer do you think we can live on sushi and chocolate cake before we die?” “how many days are left in your period?” “about two.” “then about two.”

otoya eita

-> bro cannot be serious

-> hops on twitter and starts spamming how awful period cramps are, how the world would be a better place if the menstrual cycle didn’t exist, etc.

-> everything he does ticks you off, and he knows it. he finds it very attractive when he gets under your skin, even when you threaten to behead him

-> “i might shave my head bald.” “fine !” “and then paint my head pink.” “go for it !” “and tattoo ‘i <3 y/n on my face.” “NO.”

[fangirltothefullest]

You know.... tumblr is the only place I've ever felt like people can match my brand of neurodivergence. And I'm not talking about the weird conversations or funny posts either. I just mean in general conversation and interaction.

I've been in a small room with 12 other strangers for this soft skills class I have to take for this program that's helping me get a government job as someone with adhd and I just..... feel like such an alien when I'm in the room with them? They're all different ages and some are even around my age but it's like I'm pretending to be a person for them just as I would be doing around neurotypical people.

I am constantly masking in front of these people that are supposes to be like me.

More than one have adhd like I do but they're so different than me? There's so much unnecessary laughter that feels so forced and fake? All anyone wants to talk about are sports and parties and alcohol and drugs. Its exactly likw it was in every other social situation ive ever been in. "Who last partied and got black out drunk"- "my party days are over but i can still knock back a 12 pack of whatever and function just fine"‐ "last weekend i partied i got too high to remember my name-"

Or who rooted for which sportsball team and why the spoinklers are better than the spronklers. The sprunklies had a great pass but they called it too much for the spranklies and it was all rigged. I would stop watching it but I like mr pitcher-catcher-thrower-frontguy and if he can make it this year he'll win them for the whateverchampioncup for sure.

I feel like an alien studying an entirely different species.

Like is this how people always interact? Is it all fake nonsense or is it code? It feels like it's all in code and I just have no fucking idea what that code is.

Cause like I can tell none of them actually care! I KNOW we are here for a soft skills class but like.... this isn't soft skills this is high school locker room. This is people desperately trying to fit in. Soft skills are keeping things civil and connecting with fellow humans.

This didn't feel like forming connections, it felt like pretending. It felt like showing off. It felt like people vying for their chance to be in the spotlight. It felt like America's next top banana.

We were told not to talk about religion, politics, sports and personal lives at work because all it does is start drama at the workplace. What did they proceed to do? Talk about every single subject on the no-go list the moment we'd agreed not to. Did they think "no" was code for "do this immediately"?

Like is it me? Am I really so confusingly alien that even the people that are supposed to be like me, that also have adhd, are just so different?

And I come here on tumblr and yall get me.

I post about making a PowerPoint about the most fuckable pasta shape and yall are like drop the PowerPoint.

[g4rvez-r3id]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You left the BAU and your boyfriend, Spencer, after a case took a hefty toll on you. You only left behind a letter, explaining yourself and why you had to leave. Four years later, you find yourself back in DC on a whim. You learn that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

Category: Angst

Warnings: NO HAPPY ENDING, mentions of a past case, mentions of trauma, case related things, reader getting kidnapped but only mentioned, reader lowkey being stalker-y, arguing, mentions of 2x15 “Revelations” but it’s brief, takes place in Season 9 but this is with the Season 7 team, angst angst angst

It’d been four years since he last saw you. You’d left the BAU after a particular case took a massive toll on you and you’d decided the best thing to do at the time was leave.

It was a case in your hometown, no less — the team had no leads and all they had to go off were three bodies tattooed with some kind of weird symbol on their bodies. Before joining the BAU, you were in the taskforce and you’d dealt with something similar. The victims had all been women and the symbol was some kind of branding initiation. You never caught the guy.

And when the team finally got a lead, you and Morgan were sent to check the place out. Unfortunately, it ended with Morgan being knocked out cold and you being kidnapped.

It took the team four days to find you. You were tortured, slashes on your body and the amount of mental trauma you endured during that time was disturbing. He managed to gather most of your team’s belongings and present them in blood as if it were proof that they were dead. You were led to believe that your team was dead for four days.

But by the fourth day, they realized that their unsub was someone who worked for the PD and luckily, they cracked it down and found you. You almost believed that they weren’t real, that everyone was a figment of your imagination. It took Spencer approaching you and actually touching you for you to realize that this was real. That your team was still alive.

And the case took a toll on you. Even after you passed your psych evals and came back to the BAU, you were still flinching at anyone touching you. And unfortunately, it just became too much in the end that you left.

The only person you explained yourself to was Spencer. You left behind a letter for him, I know, not great thinking on your part considering that’s how Gideon and his father left him. But you knew if you talked to him face to face, he would’ve talked you into staying. He was your boyfriend, he always had a way with words that no one else did. And you knew he’d try and get you to stay because this was where you belonged. But you felt totally alone. Even though the team was there for you, you still felt alone.

Four years have passed since you left. And as expected, the only person that found you was the BAU’s very own Penelope Garcia. You only allowed her to tell the team that you were okay and that you were safe but not to tell them where you were. For the last four years, you thought about the team every day.

So what exactly pursued you to come back all of a sudden? Call it homesickness, say it was only because you missed everyone dearly and started thinking about them a lot more recently. Or maybe it was because you only missed Spencer. That’s why you were standing outside of his apartment unit, right?

You were outside, staring at the tall building and you had no idea what brought you here but you were here. It was like you woke up and all of a sudden, you were here. You had no idea what brought you here. But you walked out that door and your feet took you here.

Spencer had been invading your mind as of recently. You had no idea why but it probably had to do with the fact that his birthday was recently. His thirty-second birthday. You wondered what he did, you wondered how he spent his birthday. Did he spend it with the team? Did he spend it with his mom? You wondered if showing up was a mistake. Maybe it was.

Spencer, on the other hand, was carrying about his night in his apartment. It had been one of those nights where he couldn’t sleep, so he’d started the day off at 3am. Probably not the smartest idea because he’d be tired by the end of the day, but at least there was coffee.

He’d turned on the coffee machine and got his crossword of the day ready at the kitchen table. He’d decided to bring some light in by walking towards the curtains and opening them. Granted, there wasn’t going to be a lot of light, but it would’ve helped. Plus, something told him to just open the curtains, so he did.

When he opened the curtain, he usually has a good look at the front of his building. Who’s coming, who’s going, what’s going on. And when he looks down, he sees something odd. Something that makes him question if he’s hallucinating. Have the schizophrenic symptoms finally taken over? Because there’s no way he’s seeing you, right here and right now.

And you’re staring right back at him. In the flesh. And you’re not a figment of his imagination, you can’t be. There were times after you left, where he thought about you and that other women he’d passed by were you. But this wasn’t like those other times. This was different.

Spencer was quick to scramble out of his apartment, almost toppling over his own feet as he struggles to get his slippers on and quickly rushes out of his apartment, down the stairs and towards the entrance of the building. Mind racing with questions and wanting answers as opens the door and blinks as he looks around for you. Because now you’ve disappeared.

Spencer looks around. You couldn’t have gotten far. He even opts to call out your name to the gods. There was no way you were figment of his imagination. You couldn’t have been. You were staring back at him. He’d almost forgotten what you looked like. And he doesn’t forget anything.

You’d managed to escape right when you saw him back away from his window and grabbed a taxi and ordered the driver to take you anywhere but here. You looked behind you and saw Spencer was in the middle of the street, wondering where you disappeared off to.

You had to leave. It was the only option you needed to take. You ended up getting a hotel early that morning. You still had no idea what you were doing here in DC. And it didn’t do you any good with Spencer seeing you. You hated to think it but you’d hoped that he thought that maybe you were just a figment of his imagination. You didn’t want him to go and ask Garcia where you were since she was the only person that knew. And you knew she’d give in because she wasn’t that great at keeping secrets.

Since you opted for staying for a few days, you had to be incognito. And that meant avoiding Spencer at all cost. That didn’t help when all the places you used to go to, you introduced him to.

You thought you were safe going to your local coffee shop this morning, but you walked in right when he was getting his order and you were quick to hide behind a very tall, burly man and rush out of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, to your luck, Spencer saw you. Or at least thought maybe he did. He’d spotted you the minute you hid behind that burly man and then when you practically ran out of the coffee shop.

He definitely wasn’t imagining you now. He’d seen as you ran far away from the shop and called your name, probably looking like a total lunatic as he yelled your name across the street. You were most definitely caught now. Your jig was up. You should’ve expected this to happen.

Penelope 💕: You’re in town?

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: And don’t even try and lie, Spencer blew your cover.

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: Also, he tried bribing me with a croissant to figure out where you are. I can only hold on for so long!

Sent 12:35pm

Penelope managed to spam your cell phone when you got back to the hotel after your harrowing escape. You decided to send a quick reply with a sigh falling from your lips.

You: Please please PLEASE don’t tell him where I am.

Sent 12:37pm

Penelope💕: Okay, fine. But under one condition.

Sent 12:38pm

You: Which is?

Sent 12:38pm

Penelope💕: Come out with us to O’Keefe’s tonight! It’ll be lowkey, everyone on the team will be there! And you get to straighten this whole thing out because even JJ is asking questions now!

Sent 12:39pm

Your biggest thing was that you didn’t want anyone knowing you were here. You don’t even know what sparked you even showing up in the first place. What were you going to tell them if they’d asked why you were here? There were so many questions you wanted to avoid. Because you’d just left without a trace.

You: Oh, Penny. I don’t know… :/

Sent 12:40pm

Penelope💕: Oh, just consider it! It could be fun for you!

Easy for you to say, Penelope. But she had a point. Maybe it could be fun, seeing the team again. Morgan, Rossi, Spencer. Then again, you almost wanted to avoid him because of how you left him. Was he the only thing holding you back from going tonight? Not to mention, did anyone else know exactly how you left him? They could’ve hated you just as much as you knew he hated you. Your phone dings again.

Penelope💕: I know your gears are turning but trust me, everyone really wants to see you again! Emily was literally talking about you the other day. Please! With sugar on top!

Sent 12:43pm

Okay, that made you feel a little bit better. You did miss them. Maybe Penelope would be the one to help you with your decision.

You: Fine, I’ll make an appearance. But only for an hour!

Sent 12:45pm

Penelope💕: YESSSSS 🥳 I’ll send you deets after work! 😊

Sent 12:45pm

Your plan to avoid Spencer backfired on you, oh, so greatly. Maybe you still could avoid him. Maybe he decided not to go to O’Keefe’s once he found out you were gonna be there.

He never liked the bar scene anyways. He hardly drank since what happened with Tobias Hankel. You prayed for the slight chance that he wouldn’t come drinking with the team. And you even hoped Garcia may have been so excited to tell Spencer that you were coming, she’d blurt it out to him and maybe he wouldn’t go. You hoped you were right.

I hate this already, I hate this already, I hate this already. You thought in your head as you walked to O’Keefe’s. It’s been a while since you’ve been in this area. Your mind is built with memories of walking these same streets with Spencer, arm in arm as he rambled about just about anything. Your heart broke in two as you thought about those times, so simple and delicate before they got ruined. By you.

You walked towards the bar and entered the building, scouting out to look for the team until a chippy voice shouted your name. “Y/N!” Your eyes trailed over to the bubbly blonde, “Over here!” She waves her arm over and you walk over pretty slowly as you join them.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” Morgan stands from his seat, welcoming you with a hug. “It’s good to see you.” You muffle into his shirt that it’s good to see him too and by then everyone pretty much follows with a hug and Rossi kisses both of your cheeks in welcoming. Everyone seems happy to see you. Everyone except Spencer, who keeps sipping his drink and looking anywhere but you like you don’t even exist. And he has the right to that. But he’s not gonna ruin this, tonight.

The night consists of everyone asking you how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. And not that Spencer cares but he overhears as you mention you work at a desk job in California — the place he knows you’ve always wanted to live — and that you recently got a new cat and that you don’t have a boyfriend. Again, not that he cares.

And then he catches onto something you say. About how you were sorry you left the team so abruptly. And Spencer scoffs under his breath as he spoke — “Least you’re explaining yourself in person now, right?”

Spencer met your eyes and everyone sat there awkwardly after the fact. You knew what that was. A diss at how you left him. You knew how he was. He got petty. And when he got petty, he got mean. It didn’t help that he’d been nursing his drink a bit, too.

Garcia had distracted everyone, asking to join her on the dance floor, to which Morgan, JJ, Emily and even you obliged. Spencer had declined, deciding to stay at your table and Rossi and Hotch went over to the bar to get more drinks for everyone.

Spencer’s jaw clenched as he watched you dance with the rest of his team. How can they act like you didn’t just up and leave them three years ago? Like everything was fine again? How could they just sit there and laugh with you when you broke their hearts when you left? He didn’t forget how Garcia cried for weeks, or how frustrated Morgan was when he found out, or how Emily kept turning over to your empty desk to tell you something but forgot you weren’t there and how heartbroken you left him when he read your letter over and over again.

I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He could see your handwriting in the back of his mind. The wires in his head crossing as he wrapped his head around the fact that you were here. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He told you that you two were gonna be fine, you were going to get through this together. I can’t stay here. I love you. I’m sorry. But you left. You left and you didn’t turn back. How could you leave him like that? The same way his dad did, the same way Gideon did. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry.

Finding himself growing frustrated, Spencer decides to leave. He can’t stay here. Not while you’re here, not while the team can act like they’re happy to see you. He’s infuriated. And he needs to go.

He slams a twenty down at the table and lets Hotch and Rossi know he’s leaving. They don’t even attempt to get him to say, exchanging a knowing glance at the fact it was because you were here but he wasn’t going to pay any attention to that. He heads for the door but he doesn’t realize he’s had an audience this whole time.

You were watching him. You couldn’t help it. You hated the way he glared at you. It pained you that you caused this. You were the reason he hated you. So, when you saw him leave, you decided that maybe you needed to talk, one on one without anyone else present.

You excused yourself to everyone, saying you going to get some water and that you’d be right back and exited the building, seeing as Spencer was about eight feet ahead of you and calling his name. “Spencer!”

Spencer scoffs, turning around as you fiddle your hands together, approaching him. You did that when you were nervous. “Can we talk, please?” Spencer turns back around and continues walking. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Yes, we do. And you know it.” You say as you catch up to him even if he continues walking away from you. “Spencer, I know you hate the way I left. And trust me, I did, too but you can’t blame me forever.”

“Well, I have,” Spencer turns around and faces you. “You left, or did you forget that? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Spencer—”

“You left. You wrote a letter to me, just like my dad and just like Gideon because you were a coward and couldn’t face me. We could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked about it, Y/n!”

“I couldn’t talk to you about it!” And now here you were, shouting at him, this was the last thing you wanted when you decided to come here tonight.

“Why not?”

“Because I know you’d talk me out of leaving!” You take a deep breath. “And I didn’t want that. I needed not to be persuaded by you, I needed to think about this. And I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t. And I hated that I did that to you, it haunts me every single day.” Your voice wavered when you said the last sentence. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. You have to know that I’m sorry.” You go to touch him but he’s quick to back away from you.

“Oh, and you’re making amends now?” Spencer questioned. “You’re just acting like what you didn’t matter? Well, it mattered to me, Y/n. You left and you didn’t care!”

“I did.” You argued.

“No, you didn’t. ‘I can’t do this anymore’? ‘I love you, I’m sorry’?” You furrow your brows at this. And all he can think is — how can you not remember the most painful words you’d ever written to him? “You wrote that to me in your letter. Your letter that you left behind to me, along with your badge and gun. You can’t just slam this door closed and pretend like you’re not at fault when you’re completely at fault. You hurt me, in the only way a person could. How could you do that?”

“I know, I know!” You tell him, shutting your eyes as you pull your hair back away from your face. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. But I couldn’t be there anymore. I wasn’t the same girl that you fell in love with. And you deserved better.”

“I deserved better than that.” Spencer retorted and you nod with a sniffle, “Yeah, yeah, you did.” You admit defeat, wiping your nose.

You walk closer to him as he stares at the ground. “And I’m so sorry,” You tell him. He still avoids your eyes, opting for the ground until he feels your hand on his cheek and you force him to meet his eyes. “And I’m telling the truth. I thought about you everyday. And I love you, I could never lie about that. Ever.”

Spencer looks into your eyes and you can’t make what’s in them. Anger? Sadness? Regret? All of the above? “Why did you come back?” The question lingers above your head and you try to come up with a valid reason in your head. But you can’t come with anything. Why did you come back? You could’ve left this alone, you could’ve moved on because that was the way life went. You could go on, forget anything happened. Was it some form of a guilty conscience for leaving him? Was it closure? Did you need to move on? Did you need Spencer to move on before you could? “I don’t know.” You answer.

“That’s not an answer.” Spencer tells you and you back away from with a scoff, “Well, then what do you want to hear, Spencer? I don’t know why I’m here. I just know that I am now.”

“Why? Did you expect to get back together or something? That maybe I’d just forget what happened and leave it behind in the past like nothing did?” It was obvious he couldn’t forget it.

“No, I-I didn’t expect that, at all—!”

“Then, why?”

“I don’t… know.” Maybe you did know why. Maybe you still loved him. But you couldn’t. Not in this way at least.

“You can’t just stumble your way back into my life simply because — what? You’re lonely, all of a sudden? Is that it?”

You’d had enough. This was pointless when all he was doing was arguing with you and making you feel even worse than you already did. You shake your head — “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Maybe you need to,” He argued. “Y/n, you were cruel to me. And somehow, you were also the best thing that happened to me. I loved you, did you know that? I tried moving on, I tried — but that didn’t even work out.” It makes you wonder why. But it’s not your business. “When I saw you again, all I could think about was how you left. And how much it hurt when you did. And you’re back now and now I’m more confused than ever. I hate you for coming back. But… I… I can’t even wrap my head around this. I can’t… I can’t be around you. I need to go.”

Spencer shakes his head and begins to walk away. You watch as he does so but not before you tell him — “I knew,” You say and he stops in his tracks. “And for the record, I loved you, too.”

Spencer stands still for a moment before he continues walking. And he turns his back on you, just like you did him years ago. There was time where he would’ve spun around and forgave you and held you and kissed you until you needed a breather but that time was long gone. Because now, he couldn’t even stand to be around you. You watched as he walked away from you and you know you deserve that.

You two were on different paths and maybe that’s the way it had to be. You’d book a flight back home when you got back to your hotel tonight. Because he was right, you couldn’t stumble back into his life, begging for forgiveness when you left him the way you did. That was the way life went, you move on.

And you supposed you should start doing that now. Since Spencer was on his way to doing so, already.

[madthetruemad]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 24 | Brand New Day

You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

Fic Masterlist

Sunday took you to a place that looked and felt so familiar. Flowers bloomed all around for the eye could see. You wondered why you haven’t found this place before.

“Jing Yuan brought you here all the time in your past life.”

“Really?”

You watched Sunday carefully as he stopped and turned to stand in front of you, his smile was soft as he held out his hands for you to take. You took a moment for yourself, your eyes wandering from flower to flower before smiling yourself, “did you know that you would win?”

“For a long time I didn’t.”

You closed your eyes, “you promise it won’t hurt?”

“I promise… it’ll be like drifting off into a sweet dream.”

“It won’t be a nightmare?”

“Never a nightmare. Not for you.”

You felt him press a kiss to your forehead, his lips were soft and warm, and you realized how different it felt than when he would kiss you in his other form, “to forget the pain,” and he was right. When you felt your body start to fall and he catches you so easily, it didn’t hurt at all. I felt at peace when you finally… drifted off… into sle…ep…

Though the moment that you did it felt like you were snapping your eyes open and sitting up in bed. You looked around almost frantically until you realized that you were in your room, your bedroom in your father’s castle that is.

“Princess,” a maid called from outside, “you better be ready when I get in there! You have an audience today and I refuse for you to be late!”

The maid who was usually badgering you was named Lizette, it was nice to hear her voice again.

“Come on princess! You know how she can get!”

Gepard too? He was here?

Was all of that… a bad dream? You shook your head, it couldn’t be.

Getting out of bed, you went straight for your door, opened it, and rushed out all while still in your nightgown.

“Princess,” both Lizette and Gepard called out but you were already down the hall causing the two to chase after you.

You headed straight for the throne room where you could already hear a few voices talk to one another which wasn’t the norm for your father. If anything he was as antisocial as a brick wall.

“Princess, wait!”

You didn’t listen as you opened the door. You didn’t venture further into the throne room as both your father, Jing Yuan, Blade, Sunday, and a girl you haven’t see before turned to look at you.

“What is-“

Your father was the first to speak up as Gepard and Lizette finally caught up to you, “daughter! How many times do I have to tell you not to run around in your nightgown!”

You ignored him as your eyes landed on both Sunday and Jing Yuan, the two people who shouldn’t even be standing next to each other which was when the unknown girl turned to your father, “your highness, with all due respect, may we talk to her in private?”

Your father gave you a disapproving look before agreeing and leaving the throne room.

“Y-“

Sunday cut you off, “you probably have many questions.”

“Obviously,” you said, “what is going on?!”

The unknown girl stepped towards you, “my name is Robin.”

“Sunday’s sister?”

She nodded, “just as you died, Jing Yuan reset time.”

“Reset it? So he-“

She nodded as Jing Yuan walked towards you and held out his hand for you to take, “I went far back into the past with knowledge of the future I shouldn’t have. But… I decided to take that knowledge and save Sunday’s sister, however, by saving her you died in her place.”

Sunday spoke up next, “but there was still a way for you to live again, though, it did take about three hundred years for your soul to come back.”

“But how? You didn’t have all of your power,” you said as you fitted your hand into Jing Yuan’s palm.

“For you, my power can exceed anything, even if it is locked away.”

“If that was your plan, why did you send me away?”

“I felt I didn’t deserve you… you died by my hand, so many times.”

“But you reset it each time.”

“That I did.”

He interlocked your fingers together before you gently pulled your hand away, “so what now?”

“I hope to make you my fiancé and my empress, if you’ll allow it.”

You smiled at that, “and if I refuse?”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to win your affections.”

You turned away and motioned for Gepard and Lizette to follow you, “I look forward to it, dear Emperor.”

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[taelophone]

Frat Boys & Parties ˙⟡ — A tutorial. ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ "How do I write a Frat Party?"

Ok, so as a luigi girlie, I want you guys to understand how to write our frat boy correctly !! Heres a lil walkthru of a frat party! The good, bad, and the gross lol

!DISCLAIMER! Not every frat is the same, but these are some common themes ive seen after about 4-5 crashes at diff brotherhoods lol

1. The Party

Ok, so this is a p self explanatory part. What is a frat party like, and what are some common misconceptions.

The most common one i see is that there’s some sort of “guest list” or that in order to get into a frat, you have to come with a brother. This isn’t true…at all. You will be LET IN for being a woman, as long as they find you “attractive” (I did say the bad would be included). Frat parties are usually not invite only, and if they are it’s usually a brother thing. It’s actually harder to get into a frat as a man, as their main goal is as many chicks in the house AS POSSIBLE. If you come with ONE dude as ONE chick, you will separated if he’s not a brother lol. They won’t let him in.

If you do go with a man, please bring at least 3-4 friends. There needs to be a ratio lol.

Now how do you even get into a frat? Simple! Word of mouth, socializing, etc. if you have even one friend that’s a social butterfly, you will more than likely be aware of when different frats are hosting. There is usually NO invite system.

You can make a character that’s known to be social, you can be the social friend, etc etc. But honestly its not difficult if you have even a slightly small friend group.

2. What It’s like

You can always tell when someone hasn’t been to a frat by the way they talk about them. They are very VERY gross😭 You will be uncomfortable, the music is painfully loud and shitty, the tables are sticky, everyone smells sweaty, and you will get hit on and very potentially harassed. This is why it’s wiser to come with a male friend and 4-5 girlfriends. It’s not wise to be at a frat alone or just with one girl. Remember, the goal is ALWAYS going to be getting you drunk.

Write about the stickiness of the floor, how humid the room feels, the constant jostling of bodies, and the people around you. The party will feel less realistic and flat if there’s no small dialogue. For example, bumping into people.

“Excuse me, sorry!” A random girl squeaked, a drunken smile on her face as she squeezed past, her pupils the size of dinner plates.

Or if you’re feeling a little more frat-boy motivated, write a brief interaction with a brother.

“Hey…you havin’ fun? Yeah, my dude Jacob put this party together. He’s kind of an asshole, cuz he made me do all the planning, but it’s whatever.”

If your character is more reserved and tends not to drink, the night will be uncomfortable for them. One way I like to show discomfort or emphasize the grotesque is use “gross” imagery. Compare the actions and surroundings of your character to formally uncomfortable topics and ideas. Remember, imagery is a GREAT tool! Use it to make your advantage and make your readers skin crawl!!

“The crowd around you wiggled and thrashed like a hoard of hungry maggots attacking at a piece of rotten fruit, the bitter and stale taste of the cheap beer serving as their stimulant in the ghostly night.”

And on the topic of beer, it’s ALWAYS cheap. It’s free, so why are you complaining? Complaining about the drinks is usually a no no lmfao😭 make sure to include that in as well! I can’t give you any brands to go off of cuz it’s different at every party I’ve been to, but it’s usually NEVER any high quality shit. No Heineken, no Bud Lite, no Miller.

Cheap beer tastes literally like scorching expired fruit. It has the stalest taste ever. It’s DISGUSTING. I need to emphasize this so YOU can emphasize it in your writing. Alcohol burns! It hurts to chug, it hurts to sip, it’s “spicy”. This is another opportunity to use allusion and imagery in your writing. Talk about how it feels like flames going down, or how it bites at the flat part of your tongue and stings your nose.

Now, if your character is a little bit more open to drinking, slowly begin to go from “gross” imagery or themes of discomfort into fantasy and “wonderland-esque” imagery.

You’ll have more fun at a frat if you’re not sober, and that’s the tea. Monitor how much your character is drinking, and how she should be reacting in this state! I break it up into a couple of levels.

Buzzed.

Tipsy

Sloppy

Blackout

At buzzed, your character should slowly begin to get more social. She’s giggly, happy, and a little more relaxed but still very in tune with her surroundings. Spend more time in the party than you will in her mind. At this point, she’s thinking a little bit less, so try to cut a little bit of monologue.

At tipsy, she’s getting loose-lipped and courageous. Talking to strangers, dancing with a brother she’s never met, pursuing the goal she had originally come to the party for (if she has one), and a little bit less aware. She may lose her friends in the sea of people, but she’s overall still fine.

At SLOPPY, she’s becoming a bit of a nuisance. She’s getting loud, bumping into people a bit harder than usual, has no concept of personal space, and is a yap machine. She’s talking so much, and is stumbling and laughing at anything. Or, quite the contrary, she’s crying and sitting on the floor. Depends on who she is.

At Blackout, she’s slowing down. Her words are drastically slurred, so be prepared to ignore your grammarly. She’s stumbling through people, likely trying to find a place to sit down, the lights are way brighter than they actually are, and she might even throw up.

THISSS is how you write being drunk! It varies from person to person, because I am unfortunately a flirty and energetic drunk, but this is a baseline to work with.

The more your character drinks, the more their headspace should reflect this feeling. Some words like floaty, tingly, euphoric, giddy, etc should suffice. I even like to compare it to space because sometimes it do be feeling like zero gravity😔

do we want a part 2 with how to write actual Frat boys? Cuz it seems not many of us have encountered them irl…(it’s better that way trust.)

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[doveywovy]

fdsafdsa it is....my brand. <3

tobirama & izuna are both in hs and hashirama is attending a local college so he and tobirama are actually living together, they're just not on good terms at the time. he's there for izunas tearful 'confession' because izuna did it in as public a place as possible with as many people around as possible, all as a manipulation tactic. izuna knows madara feels the most shame when its something hashirama disapproves of, so he made sure hashirama was around (probably just hanging out casually with madara?) when this happens.

i think in this au in particular izuna takes a lot of liberties with what he demands from tobirama + physical touch. he expects tobirama to give him hourly check-in texts when they're not together, to spend all his free time with him, to partner with him on all projects, to back him up in arguments or conversations. if tobirama walks into a room and izuna says "right, tobirama?" he expects tobirama to agree despite having no idea what he's agreeing to. he escalates from there to pressuring tobirama into stuff, either because tobirama 'already agreed' or because good friends do stuff together, right? he got tobirama into this party in the first place, tobirama can't expect him to drink alone all night! tobirama wanted a sleepover, he can't rightfully expect izuna to sleep on the floor or to take the floor, does he think there's something gross about izuna? they have to share the bed, it's only polite.

then he demands nudes with increasingly specific details about what tobirama should be wearing/doing in the photos. (maybe he also starts up a "besties circlejerk, don't be weird about it' agenda?)

tobirama is unaware of what counts as normal or not, given his total lack of experience having friends (and his belief that 'practicing friendship' with a comatose guy....clearly his litmus is off.) especially since he has a lot of boundaries that the 'average' person doesn't when it comes to things like touch, which might even be why hashirama is currently pissed with him? he only really figures out it out when he gets to the nudes thing as 'not normal', but he also feels like it's the price he's willing to pay to keep izuna in his life.

madara is NOT homophobic (in this au) and is completely thrown by the accusation. he has faith in izuna as a person (a mistake) so he genuinely thinks he's like. potentially got some internalized issues to process, perhaps he needs to do some reading up on LGBTQ+ allyship....but ALSO he desperately needs everybody to know that tobirama is taking advantage of izuna!!!!! not in a homophobic way!!! hes saying that in an ally way!!!! as izunas biggest supporter he thinks izuna deserves a boyfriend who is not taking advantage of some kind of mental issue!!!! he has no proof of this and hashirama is making sad faces at him, so instead madara is forced to seethe on the inside and keep his comments to a bare minimum.

modern au where izuna is in a tragic accident and it puts him in a coma and tobirama is like sweet, a way to practice friendship. because tobirama has absolutely zero friends except his brother, who's been pissed at him for over a year. so- he needs the practice.

so every day he goes in to visit and he changes out the flowers at izunas bedside and fixes the sheets and updates him in what's been happening while he's in the coma. with all the tact he has, which is very little.

tobirama: hello izuna. class went well today. you would've liked the chemistry lesson. your cousin hikaku broke down crying behind the school because he misses you. your other cousin obito called me a slur when he noticed i saw this and then he chased me down and shoved my head into a toilet. the cafeteria was serving cold rice again at lunch. this concludes my report. get well soon.

what tobirama is unaware of is that this is the kind of coma that izuna is actually largely aware of whats happening around him, he just can't respond or move in any way. so he knows about tobiramas daily visits and updates and weird attempts at friendship. (tobirama's consistant reports on class lessons actually means when he wakes up, he doesn't need to do too much to catch up on work.)

so when izuna finally wakes up, he decides to do his own crazy move- to lie that they've always been friends, actually. best friends. joined at the hip practically. tobirama assumes this is some kind of brain damage situation but gleefully takes the opportunity to have a friend. izuna uses the justification of them being lifelong friends to violate a number of boundaries and behave in completely inappropriate ways.

madara also assumes this is some kind of brain damage consequence and considers tobirama an evil blight on his brother's life that must be vanquished. he keeps desperately trying to prove that they didn't get along before izuna's coma, but izuna just keeps making up loopholes and excuses to disprove his evidence.

eventually izuna tearfully confesses that madara is right, there's no physical proof of their lifelong friendship....because he himself destroyed it all! he and tobirama were/are actually boyfriends, see, but he was so worried that his brother would be homophobic about it that he never kept proof of their relationship! his close call with death has made him realize the importance of treasuring the time he has with tobirama, even if.... (loud sob) even if madara is being even MORE homophobic about this than he had once feared.....(Sob)

madara: oh. uh. i. uh

hashirama: madara.....how could you.....

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "the one where Kon's soulmark is fake". I remembered that, like, SEVERAL of my older WIPs are just a hot mess at the starts of their tags and also realized that I had posted like, very little coherently-connected parts of specifically this one's beginning, for some reason? Despite the fact that I love hurting and being hurt?? Somehow???? TERRIBLE oversight on my part, gang, sorry, here y'all go, enjoyyyyy~ 💙 (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon is sort of fucked-up in a lot of ways, but he didn't deliberately get the tattoo. Like–he's not that fucked-up. Hell, even Black Zero wasn't that fucked-up. 

Black Zero's Westfield didn't even give him the tattoo, actually, so maybe that's part of why they had a better relationship than Kon did with his version of the guy. Kon would also have hated the asshole a lot less if not for the tattoo, probably. 

But his Westfield had made damn sure to give it to him.

Kon doesn't remember much before he got broken out of the cloning tube, but he does remember getting the tattoo. It'd taken a really long time, and it'd been the first time he'd ever felt pain. So like, it'd made an impression. 

He hadn't even known what it was for, then. Hadn't even known what it was supposed to be. A brand? A method of identification? Some kind of weird serial number analogue? 

Not so much, it'd turned out. 

Superman's soulmark is a gorgeous Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, bold and bright and beautiful. It looks like the rising truth and the clarity of a new beginning and the very literal physical manifestation of hope. 

And Kon's tattoo looks exactly like it. 

Except for the part where it's obviously just a tattoo, of course. 

Tattoos don't pass for soulmarks, after all, which is the only reason Kon has the damn thing to begin with. Westfield hadn't wanted him to make the mistake of thinking that he was a real person, or to make the mistake of thinking that anyone was ever going to give a fuck about him as the person that he was. He was a clone, an experiment, a weapon, a thing. He didn't have a soul or a soulmate. Didn't have a mark. 

He got over that. Like, it sucks? It really sucks. And he still hates it. But he'd gotten over it. 

Or he'd thought he had, until he'd found out who Superman's soulmate was. 

"What?" Kon says, staring blankly. 

"Dad's my soulmate," Jon repeats, pointing at the Kryptonian sunrise spread out across his chest, brightly illuminated by the noontime sun as they stand on the dock at the edge of a little pond on the outskirts of Smallville. "Why, who's yours? Or don't you know yet? Like, has it not come in?" 

"Clones don't get soulmarks," Kon says, wanting very, very badly to just throw up and die. 

"Huh?" Jon says, looking actually surprised. Kon continues to want to throw up and die. Or maybe bury himself in magma in the center of the planet and stay there 'til he suffocates. "But I thought everybody got soulmarks!" 

"Naw," Kon says instead of fuck you, because the kid's ten and doesn't deserve that. 

"Why not?" Jon asks, because again, he's ten. Ten and apparently as emotionally intelligent as a pudding cup, but whatever. Not like Kon's never had this conversation before. 

Never with Clark's kid who is apparently so much his kid as to be his literal fucking soulmate, which no one ever thought to mention to the stupid shitty clone in the past like four months since Clark had finally admitted to the secret identity that Kon had long since figured out thanks to Hypertime bullshit, but whatever. He only even officially met Jon a couple months ago. 

Probably they all figured it just wasn't his business, he guesses. 

Which–it's not, really. It's not his business. It never has been. 

It's not. 

"I mean, I'm sentient or whatever, but I'm manufactured," Kon tells the kid with a shrug. "Therefore no soul, therefore no soulmate, therefore no soulmark. That's all." 

"You don't have a soul?" Jon asks in bewilderment. 

"Naw," Kon says again, with another shrug. "So like, we gonna swim or what?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," Jon says, still looking bewildered. 

So they swim. 

Kon, obviously, doesn't take his shirt off for it. 

Jon, mercifully, doesn't ask why. 

It's fun, aside from being the worst afternoon of Kon's life. They fuck around for a couple hours, then fly back to the farm after and mostly dry off on the way, and Clark comes out to meet–well, not them, obviously, but Jon. Jon lights up at the sight of him and throws himself straight into his arms like he's never once had to question whether or not Clark would ever want him there, and Clark smiles down at him like he's the most important person in the world. 

Kon should just count himself lucky that Clark trusts him enough to leave him alone with his kid for more than thirty seconds and be grateful. 

What Kon actually is, of course, is jealous and angry and fucking heartbroken. 

Jon is ten. Kon was manufactured two years ago. Clark had a real kid long before Kon was even a theoretical spark in a scientist's eye. 

And Jon had Clark the whole time Superboy was just desperately hoping that Superman would decide he was worth his attention. Worth the "S". Worth . . . 

When Clark had offered him a name from his family–specifically a name from an adopted member of his family–Kon had been . . . stupid, a little, and thought that it might've been, like . . . another step. Like he'd hoped that Superman even letting his weird stupid clone wear the "S" to begin with might've been.  

He hadn't been a complete idiot or anything. He'd known Clark would never, like–want to keep him around or have him too close or anything. He'd just thought that maybe he'd . . . that someday he might've . . . 

Kon isn't a real person. Like–obviously he's not. It isn't subtle. Hell, he'd have known it even if Westfield hadn't bothered tattooing him with a copy of Clark's mark. And really, he guesses he should be grateful Westfield didn't tattoo his own soulmark on him, whatever it was. 

Just, like, of course he's not Clark's . . . family, or whatever. Of course he's just like that one weird kid from down the street that somebody occasionally invites over out of pity who only learns the family secrets by accident or through osmosis and isn't actually kept in the loop or anything. Kon knows that. 

But watching Jon beam up at his dad and Clark smile down at his son is still making him want to curl up and die right here and now. 

Kon does kind of wonder what it's like to be, like . . . loved, or whatever. 

Everybody always makes it sound really nice. 

"Dinner's about ready," Clark says. "You two mind setting the table?" 

"Sorry, I gotta get going," Kon says instead of admitting he has no idea how to set a fucking table, especially not to whatever Martha Kent's standards are. Cadmus did not actually see fit to educate him on typical household chores and he has very rarely ever sat down at any semblance of a normal family dinner. Like, in Hawaii they all just ate wherever and not even all together half the time, and Cadmus has a cafeteria, and Young Justice just dumps a pile of junk food or takeout on the nearest unoccupied surface and they all just go to town on it like the weird gaggle of semi-superpowered and usually-ravenous teenagers that they are. 

He could look it up on his phone, and he probably will later, but there's no way he's gonna run the risk of getting caught looking it up on his phone. Like–no. Never, thanks. Miss him with that particular little bit of "further proof of being a fake person" humiliation. 

So it's . . . whatever, he guesses. 

"Well, that's alright, we'll just have to catch you another time," Clark says with a polite smile that looks nothing like the one he was just wearing for Jon, and doesn't even fake like he's disappointed or like he's gonna miss him. Because like . . . why would he, after all? 

Kon misses him all the time, but Kon's the pathetic counterfeit of a person with a copy of said person's soulmark tattooed on him. 

"Yeah, sure," Kon says, thinking longingly of suffocating in the center of the planet. 

Sometimes he thinks about what's gonna happen when he finally gets his dumb ass killed and whoever, like, autopsies or embalms him or whatever sees the tattoo. Thinks about what they're gonna think, if they . . . 

Superman's soulmark isn't a secret or anything. Clark's gotten smashed around too often for the suit to have kept it covered all this time. So like, if someone ever saw the tattoo on Kon's chest and didn't know that Cadmus put it there . . . 

Like . . . well. The natural assumption would be that Kon got it on purpose, obviously. That Kon was actually, like, that fucking pathetic and disturbed of a person. 

He never wants anyone to see it. Never wants anyone to know. Never . . . just never. None of it. Ever. 

And Clark will never smile at him like he smiles at Jon, so maybe Clark will just never know about the tattoo either. Maybe that's a thing that Kon can manage. 

He's managed it so far, at least. 

Kon goes back to Cadmus and buries himself in his eternally unmade bed in his cramped little disaster of a room and desperately tries to not be the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He definitely fails at not being the absolute fucking freak that he is. 

He cries about it for a little bit, like that's something he even has the fucking right to do, and tries so fucking hard to forget how Jon's very real soulmark had looked when he'd stripped his shirt off and bared it so unselfconsciously. Not even deliberately or proudly–just as a simple, inalienable fact. A thing that he knew. A thing he just had. 

Although Kon wouldn't even care about the stupid goddamn mark, if Clark would ever look at him even a little bit like the way he looks at Jon. 

He tries not to think about the way Clark would actually look at him, if he ever found out that Cadmus had tattooed his fucking kid's mark on him. 

Kon's never let himself think too much about Clark's mark, on account of not wanting to torment himself that bad. He'd just vaguely assumed that it was Lois at some point and then just shoved said assumption in a box and drowned it in concrete and made sure to never, ever take his shirt off in front of anyone else or any possible cameras or spy equipment or anything similar. Ever. 

He should've known it wasn't Lois. It's a Kryptonian sunrise. Why would it be Lois? 

If it were Lois, though, Kon wouldn't care this much. If it were Lois, it'd be a romantic mark, and Lois is straight-up gorgeous and a total fucking badass, yeah, but Kon doesn't, like, want her or anything. There's nothing to be jealous of there. 

So of course it's not Lois. Of course it's not romantic. 

It's Jon, and on top of that it's a mark that only actual Kryptonians would ever share. 

It's Clark's real kid. The one he had long before Kon was even a single strand of stolen DNA or a cell in a cloning tube or even a scribbled theoretical on a whiteboard or in somebody's notes. 

The one he actually wants. 

Not for the first time, Kon wishes that prick Westfield weren't too dead to punch. 

And while he's wishing for completely impossible shit that’s never gonna happen, he wishes he could've been able to stay in Smallville for that stupid dinner without fucking embarrassing himself, too.

[lavylesby]

Family Reunion

hey guys! ^^ I officially have an AO3 account! :D so here's my first story (I'll be posting it here and on AO3):

Family Reunion

Author's Notes: There are two users on Tumblr, @akiiame and @coffeecat1983, who came up with the idea that Sonic is Mario and Luigi's pet. @akiiame made an adorable drawing, and @coffeecat1983 took it and ran with it as a fanfic. I would like to expand on this, as this is my first ever story on AO3, and I think it's an absolutely wonderful concept. Thank you reading my first story, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! Now then, onward and upward! ^^

"Hrrmgph." "Soonik." "Why does he keep making that sound?" Luigi laughed. He joyfully tossed the little hedgehog another treat, and continued chuckling at his hungry enthusiasm. Sonic. That's a perfect name, Mario thought. But where the heck did he even come from? And why is he blue? "Hey, Lu?" Luigi's ears perked up at his brother's tone. There was a slight hint of concern. "What's wrong, Mar?" he asked. "You don't think we could get in trouble, do you?" Mario replied. Luigi turned in his chair, being mindful of his cast. "Trouble for what? Clearly nobody was caring for 'im. You didn't know he'd show up at work." He got up and hugged his older sibling, who sighed. "We ain't do nothing wrong, bro," Luigi assured him. "If you want, we can take Sonic to the vet tomorrow and get 'im checked out." Mario gently squeezed his little brother. "OK. I guess it'll be alright." He turned to see the bright blue ball, eagerly snorting for more treats. "You gonna be spoiled, boy," Mario giggled. He scooped Sonic into his hands and hand-fed him one last treat. The little hedgehog must've realized this would be the end of his snacks, and he squealed in protest. "MMRRPGH!!" "SOOOOONIK!!" Luigi collapsed into laughter. "No more treats!" Mario chided him lovingly. "It's time for you to rest, buddy."

A few hours and a few helpings of Ma's lasagna later, Mario finished building and decorating Sonic's new home. Luigi chipped in where he could, even giving the rodent one of his favorite stuffed toys. Now, Sonic was fast asleep in his brand new, ultra fluffy bed, with all but his inquisitive snout being covered by a delicate blanket. Luigi was fascinated by the creature. He quietly hummed an Italian lullaby to help him sleep. Mario joined him later, and when the song ended, the bros embraced, and the older kissed the younger's cheeks. "How's your leg?" Mario asked gently. "It's just a dull pain right now," Luigi said. "I've got my meds, so I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once." Unfortunately, the pain from his injury had given him a nearly sleepless week. Luckily, he was stuck at home most days, so he could take naps when he had the chance. Luigi gingerly stood up and kissed his brother's forehead. "I'll be fine, fratellone," he murmured. "C'mon, let's go to bed." Mario took one last peek at his new pal. "G'night, Sonic," he whispered. As if responding, the spiky rodent let out a gentle, hushed grumble. The bros smiled at each other, happy to be hedgehog parents.

Sound asleep, Luigi snored peacefully. Despite being unconscious, he knew he was warm, comfortable, and safe, and his brother was at his side. Or was he? Luigi's brain prompted him to wake up. He realized that Mario was standing over him, having recently kissed his nose. "Mar?" he asked groggily. "Why are you up at 4 AM…?" "Spike called," he whispered. "I gotta come in, he said there's something I need to see." "Can't it wait until morning?" Luigi complained. "I dunno, he sounded pretty worried," Mario replied. "Y'know he never gets worried about anything." He grabbed his toolbox and ruffled Luigi's hair. "I made you some breakfast, you can heat it up when you're ready. Marty will come by to look at Sonic later," he said, Marty being the vet. Luigi mmphed a response. Mario shut the bedroom door behind him, and Luigi prepared to go back to the murkiness of sleep… …until Mario shouted. Quick, thudding footsteps made their way back to the bedroom. The door swung open. "Where's Sonic?!" Mario demanded. "Huh?? What do you mean?" Luigi said, still slightly confused. Perhaps he was dreaming. "He should still be in his cage…right?" "He's gone!" "Gone?? How?!" "The latch is wide open, and there's a hole in the front door!" Luigi was wide awake now. He ignored his leg pain and hurriedly began to dress. "I'm coming with you." "Lu, you need to stay!" "If Spike is worried, and you found Sonic at work, there's a good chance he went there and we'll find out what's going on. I have my crutches." Mario sighed. Despite his timid tendencies, he knew that once Luigi set his mind on something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "Well, c'mon then." The bros locked arms to aid Luigi, leaving their damaged door to be resolved later.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Spike ran from the construction site to greet the bros. "Hey Luigi, whatta you doin' here? Thought you was patching up?" "I am," he said. "But Sonic is missing." "Eh, Sonic?" Spike paused for a moment. "Oh, the blue rat thing! Well, he ain't missing no more." Spike stepped aside, and to the bros' surprise, Sonic was standing right behind him. The so-called "blue rat thing" ran up to Mario and nuzzled his leg. "Boy, what is you doin'???" Mario exclaimed. "The sun ain't even out yet!" But before he could grab his strange companion, Sonic dashed off again, and motioned to the wrecking crew to follow him. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to assess what our next step would be," Spike said. "All of a sudden the rat comes along and just would not stop squeaking! And he's so fast!" "Well, that would explain the door," Luigi chuckled. "But he would have to be REALLY fast to break it." "Yeah…" Mario agreed absentmindedly. His concern grew with every step he took to follow Sonic. Eventually, the group stopped at what appeared to be a nest. Sonic slowed down, and turned to face his humans. But before they could ask questions, Sonic turned back around and began uttering a low call. "ruuuuuuIMPH." "ruuuuuuuuuu…ruuuuuuuuIMPH." Mario, Luigi, and Spike shared hasty glances. They had no idea what was happening. "Tooooils…" "NuuuuuuuKLS…" "Soooodooow…" "Mimimimi…" The rodent continued repeating these calls, and to everyone's shock, several small creatures emerged from the makeshift nest. Mario was stunned. "Are-are…are those more hedgehogs???" Luigi gasped. "Look, one of 'em's got 2 tails!" Spike shouted. Sonic ran over to what could only be his family, his quills quivering joyfully. The creatures exchanged grunts, nuzzles, and rubs. Sonic turned once more, and you could almost make out a smile on his face in the early morning light. Mario managed to snap back to reality, and his heart filled with warmth. He knelt down to pet his blue baby. "Is this your family, buddy?" he asked. Sonic squeaked in response, and Mario caressed his ears. "Well, they can come with us." "They can??" Luigi gasped once more. Mario grabbed the two-tailed creature, who grunted gratefully. "Yeah…we can share them with Peach and the others, and they can meet each other sometimes." Spike was absolutely speechless. He just stared off as the bros scooped the petite animals and left. He heard a small bit of their fading conversation. "…Is Marty open now…?" "Yeah I guess we can…" "…Tails? That's awes…!" "I'm pretty sure he…"

-------------------

Thanks for reading! ^^ Can't wait to get started on AO3. Once again @akiiame @coffeecat1983 thanks for the idea! :D

[mins-fins]

˖ ࣪ .  the happiest day

❝ for on its wing was dark alloy, and as it fluttered-fell, an essence-powerful to destroy, a soul that knew it well. ❞ ─ edgar allan poe , 1827

warnings swearing, explicit language, implied sexual content, infidelity (sorta), unhealthy relationships, mentions of drug use, drinking, fighting, and one mention of child abuse. word count 7.3k.

JENO ABOUT FAINTS.

“i will have you know that you have the right to remain silent” detective qian crosses his arms above his chest, a spine-chilling, egregious figure intimidatingly prominent before him. it should instill its own feat of comfort, being met with somebody whose main course is to bring justice, gather evidence and solve the crime.

jeno feels all frightened, however, it’s the law, and you were..

“i’m sorry, it’s just a bit—“

“feel free to take your breaks” the crack of a few knuckles, jeno flinches, it’s cold, sweat endures across his perversely brisk skin, the perspiration clearly not giving him the best possible appearance. he already spent a good few hours sobbing his eyes out, sclera’s red beyond repair.

jeno braces himself, there isn’t going to be a hard hit, not a punch, nothing of innate violence, it’s just.. this.

“i wanna help any way i can”.

“of course, i’ll have you know that you are not under investigation for murder, this is basic interrogation protocol we do to everybody”.

“okay”.

jeno is unaware of why he whispers, afraid of something.

“what was your relationship with the victim?”

jeno pauses, the was is particularly perturbing in this instance, a term which jumps out and broadens the true occurrences of this situation. it dawns on him strangely, almost steadily, most would say several hours have already passed, but jeno barely perceives such a time gap until it suddenly consumes his reality overwhelmingly.

you were alive. then you were dead. now he’s here.

“we were friends, very close friends, i.. uh— i had a crush on him”.

it’s a bit embarrassing, juvenile, cheeks all pink in that inherently boyish constraint. jeno is often commended for his honesty, but for the longest time he could never really admit it to anybody, not even you yourself. yet everybody was aware, batted their knowing eyes and curt grins, those are simply the certain things you expect from people when you exhibit such damning behavior.

detective qian’s eyes practically glow at the given information, as if he had just struck gold, jeno barely even stated much..

well he supposes it is much, to him and the now warming blood in his heart.

“had?”

jeno is unsure what extent of the past tense he is even referring to, ‘had’ could encapsulate many things, your death, or the fact that he supposedly got over you.

he decides the second option is the most suitable.

“it was a childhood thing really, i grew out of it over time”.

terrific save jeno.

“huh” he doesn’t believe jeno, the discrete cock of his eyebrow is a bright, loud indication. “was that an unrequited crush?”

well jeno didn’t exactly expect that, it would be terrible for him if it had been, a true spurring detail that could easily brand him as suspect number one, a murder of outrage, jeno is sure that’s probably the easiest notice one could grab.

“well i don’t.. he never said, actually? we didn’t date ever we just— but i guess we kind of did have a relationship..”

you never named it anything, perhaps you simply enjoyed muddling things for him, jeno was enamored, you apparently had that all figured out at every singular glance.

“y/n didn’t like labels” he blurts, a bit outmoded, you would presumably be the slightest irritated at such a soundless giving of details, you’d glare, decorating the surface with the sheer docility your eyes hold. jeno always loved your eyes, they’ve been very intriguing for the several years you two had known each other. “and he wanted someone else anyway, didn’t even have to say it”.

jeno tries so hard, yet the explicit disdain pervades throughout his speech, his very own reply resulting in a slight agonizing squint. he too earns a squint, from the detective, much of an information dump, a scornful expression merely hidden with a sweet smile. “huh, well he seems a bit complicated”.

the chuckle jeno produces is comically dry, the true amusement impeding this situation could not be any farther away. “i didn’t hold it against him”.

“right, so what about the others then?”

“hm?”

“perhaps a disgruntled ex, a crazy one night stand, you have any names for me?”

well of course, he was so pissed when i came around, it would only make sense that he—

“no” jeno swallows, shaking his head. “yeah y/n has a couple terrible exes but they weren’t invited to the party, and if they did somehow show up he would’ve had someone kick them out anyway”.

jeno didn’t tell a whole lie, it was merely partial, a statement not all littered with fallacies. there’s an intolerable stir in his stomach when he even muses on throwing one of them under the bus, he’s sure they are all aware in their own right, every single one of them was there, present, but he feels much too..

he does the speculative squint, the narrowing of his eyes signaling suspicion over a claim that appears much too feasible in jeno’s own eyes,

but perhaps he doesn’t have much of an investigative mind.

“and when y/n passed?”

“i was.. god mark and hyuck were going at each other and jaemin was laughing instead of helping, chenle was cheering and i was trying to calm them down cause y/n would’ve never forgiven them if they got into a fist fight at his party” jeno slightly snickers at the recollection of you, of course you would be worrying over the state of your party rather than mark and donghyuck getting into a fist fight, you already had your bets set on mark winning anyway. “jisung was getting overwhelmed so he went upstairs and—“

“ah” but then the detective’s eyes widen, it is all for a simple reason really. “do you happen to recall where huang renjun was?”

jeno blanks. he.. doesn’t. that’s a bit strange.

he peers for a second too little, as if the moment will appear before his eyes in the manner of some movie flashback. he sees it all; mark and donghyuck screaming at the highest capacity their lungs could offer, jaemin watching with eyes encapsulated by his pure entertainment, chenle giggling, jisung practically on the verge of tears watching, jeno forcing himself in between the two quarreling.

huh. renjun wasn’t there.

he presumes his memory must be off.

“i don’t remember him being there now that i think about it..” jeno’s head is pivoting much too rapidly, growing dizzy despite the lack of clear movement. “i mean he did seem a little angry all night, his answers were snappy but i didn’t think much of it? sometimes he gets overwhelmed easily, besides renjun couldn’t—“

jeno stops himself.

what is he thinking? renjun is capable of a lot more than people expect, innocence never his forte.

“well i’m just curious, you’re much more honest than your little friend”.

now jeno is wondering how donghyuck must’ve relayed it.

but that contains little of true scrutiny, he wasn’t entirely honest either.

~

jeno had his final conversation with you not even an hour before you had been discovered.

11:16, he remembers, by that point in time his head had begun pounding, repetitive melodies drowning into the ear ringing background which he took in as his own. jungwoo had swayed his whole and dumped a shortened story about your clash with donghyuck because of course you two argued, jeno failed to completely hear it all.

“i think i might die”.

always the ever so spectacular, you slapped a hand over your forehead, a tentative habit made to supposedly aid with headaches. you mused to jeno that whenever your father had done it back in your turbulently ‘pain-stricken’ childhood all of the agony erased straight away, he is beginning to wonder how many of those moments could even be clarified in truth. your dad has irked him in every moment, as a child, even too in adulthood.

you were strange, in a frankly striking way which has always interested him.

“don’t do that, does it really even help?”

“you won’t know until you try it”.

jeno had tried it, having almost burst into tears once when he was going through one of the worst fevers life could offer.

it didn’t do shit, but at least you were there to cushion the pain and listen in on the endless rambling paired with sobbing that took place. you let him cry into your shoulder for hours before he was finally ready to take a nap, overwhelmed by it all.

“kinda looks like you’re just hurting yourself”.

“it’s a bit ironic”.

jeno does not recollect the moments in time that led to you two holding hands, but it began much rapidly and never had a sure explanation in his mind. “why’d you two fight again?”

you crinkled your nose at his tone, as if feigning annoyance. “there wasn’t even a reason, we just fight to fight really, sometimes i think it’s embedded in us or some shit”.

jeno has to admit, he giggled at that one.

“seriously, i’m so.. i don’t know, it’s always a thing with us, we argue and we just act like it’s normal”.

“well it sort of is for you two isn’t it?”

you squeezed his hand discreetly, almost glaring, though your eyes reserved that beauty they had in every gaze, jeno may have been just the slightest smitten. “i do love hyuck, you know, i get on his nerves and he gets on mine but it’s all in the name of sport or whatever, debating.. he doesn’t hate me”.

right, donghyuck had been careless with his words but when is he not? it could simply be the effects of knowing someone so closely for that long, but jeno was always aware he’s been a softie, never the toughest type, just stubborn.

“that’s a way to say it”.

“he was drunk”.

it was a minuscule moment where jeno heard you be unsure of yourself, that is much too atypical, he simply perceived everything as planned out in your very mind. “what the fuck am i even saying right? i need to lie down, vomit everything”.

you waved a shy hand as if surrendering, finally allowing your fingers to slip from jeno’s, he about complained, yet he stopped himself.

you rubbed your temples, one, two, three times, then your arms dropped where they had remained prior to the turbulent hand holding. “yeah, think i just miss my bed”.

“you alright?”

“of course i am, just got too drunk” jeno never assumed such a statement would ever escape your mouth, he always assumed your go to would be do now think later.

he realized then, and carries now, that such a prospect could not have been further from every other thing true to your nature.

of course he had to discern such a thing too late.

“do you want me to go with..?”

“no no it’s fine i’m not gonna sleep” you seemed as though you could slip at any moment, eyes having already begun to flutter, yet you pursued on. “a few minutes, i’ll come back downstairs, i’m sure you guys can entertain yourselves without me”.

a few minutes. a. few. minutes.

jeno blinked, a tight breath kept in his throat, he wanted to grab your hand, maybe follow behind you like a lost puppy for the rest of the party.

he should’ve.

“i’ll be fine, don’t worry about me”.

but jeno did, in every waking moment he had that sneaking voice alerting him that he should brood on the singular things you say. sometimes he wishes his mind didn’t expand in such a manner, there is only so much sure worrying you could do over so many words.

“you sure you won’t fall asleep?”

“yes, i have a sure point” you leaned in, a kiss on his cheek, your signature. “love you”.

“love you too”.

then jeno observed you rush upstairs, yearning to follow you, fingers hesitantly pinching at one another. he should have followed you.

he did not, alone time is alone time and you certainly did need it after hours spent downstairs practically driving yourself to insanity.

he supposes much more faith should be put in his own judgement.

JENO PRESUMES HIS MEMORY JUST ACTS AGAINST HIS WILL in most important moments, when he attempts to have a sane conversation with somebody or is simply trying to study, perhaps take an innocent shower. no. his mind dizzies with flurries images he feigns ignorance too, aptly spacing out midway through very pertinent minutes of life he shouldn’t be taking for granted. his pride shatters at each recollection, it’s humiliating, future mind readers possibly having a laugh at the dreadful nature reeling in his head.

jeno remembers the day you two slept together for the first time almost perfectly.

it happens to be that way due to the gravity that night holds, amusingly enough.

just blinks before his eyes every now and then, startling him at even the most mundane of moments, he’s beginning to believe he’s been rendered abnormal.

he almost too often harks back on it all, you pressing him into the doorframe, hands steady on his hips, then they began roaming, curving nails carving marks into its seams and hasty hands meandering to virtually rip his shirt from his chest. tripping over your very feet as you journeyed to his bedroom, disorderly, tangled, done through frankly idiotic giggles and extensive lip biting.

jeno recalls assuming such all to be a dream when it had happened, it’s the person he’d been essentially in love with for a time he barely comprehends displaying his innate desire point blank.

well it couldn’t have been any more crystalline.

jeno still presumed it was a dream whilst you two lied together, the flat of your palm resting atop his encased heart, the quickening beats per minute would have easily been observed, even soundly. you gazed up at the insipid ceiling, jeno’s vision continued blurring for some odd reason.

“how long were you planning on doing that?”

jeno glanced in your direction, immediately entranced by the just how simply you could behold such looks. the whole universe could be portrayed by the hue of your eyes alone, it’s fascinating, jeno could stare in them for hours.

your awareness appeared brightly, displayed in the manner you flicked him in the forehead, drawing a yelp. “you alive in there?”

“let a guy breathe dammit”.

“was it all you ever wished for?”

jeno always regarded himself as exceptionally hopeful, a true man of his word, all bright despite the disdain the world so tried to push atop him.

his eyebrows furrowed, they were never all detailed, jeno assumed the highest point possible would be imminent rejection, his virtue had torturously beaten such a thing into his head until he figuratively bled out on the floor with the blurring image of you beholding his gaze.

but you were there in his bed, jeno got the memo way too late.

it didn’t matter then, though.

“not exactly, more of dreamed”.

“wow, you weren’t wishing on a shooting star every night awaiting this very moment?”

jeno allowed a snort, what mattered was your delivery, not much pertaining to the true amusement the joke could hold in another setting. he just thought you were funny, explicitly funny, bounded to extensive sarcasm and self serving quips.

“you’re so full of yourself”.

your stare from that day was one jeno struggled to decode, jeno can visualize it all, your rings, a barrage of gold and silver that somehow fit together, your eyes, a massive spiral akin to photos captured of the milky way, the initial quirks of your smile which he couldn’t help but shy away from.

that hadn’t been the end of your night, though.

and jeno also had an inherent intrigue in something else his eyes could not even be forcefully pried away from.

he just couldn’t decipher why such a sight angered him as much as he recalls.

“you know what? we should go out”.

“go out? it’s almost midnight”.

but you’d already rolled out of your very comfortable spot in his bed, leaning over onto the floor where you began collecting the strewn variety in which your clothes littered around. it was all so simple to you, nothing of the innate embarrassment jeno could not his showcasing of.

you clicked your tongue, nose scrunched at the wrinkled nature your shirt posed. “it needs to be romantic, okay? can't believe i haven’t taken you out yet”.

“you don’t have to..”

you glanced again, almost amused before whistling. “what kind of person would i be? dinner is only a sure”.

“dinner? at this time?”

you tutted, willfully ignoring such a question as you stared down the articles of clothing, momentarily, jeno observed regret in your eyes, but then you smiled, as if nothing had happened at all, little lapse in your judgment. “you haven’t eaten dinner today, right? okay, i’m gonna go home and change into something more fitting, you wait for a phone call from me”.

jeno digested such said information gradually, as if somebody’s life was on the line or you could even really bide your time in that particular situation. you allowed the silence to hang, not one distinct blink that jeno can recall glimpsing, just.. staring.

occasionally, even without fault, you displayed a coy eeriness.

then the smile appeared once again, vibrant, way too pretty. “i’m taking you out on a date, stupid, wear something nice”.

it was all puerile, the way jeno grew flustered at the rustic words, his smile so faint-hearted, so cute. being treated is sweet, dates are absolutely to die for, if you hadn’t been there he would have little choice but to giggle to his heart’s content.

he may have been much too smitten by then.

FALLING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH FOR A GOOD THREE AND A HALF months should be the most impractical of tasks to successfully accomplish, but you have never enjoyed taking no for an answer. jeno could mark several days leading up to that discrete moment that he assumed it was a farce, the dramatics of it all have always been your favorite, however, speculation drives you, countless people with your name on their tongue akin to adrenaline, a fix, the sort of drug you don’t just get from guys in shady alleyways, you have to do big to earn the attention you want, your sights had already been set.

it may have been one of your worst addictions, yet everybody handed such a fix to you on a silver platter. it extended from strangers to even those who were extensively close, donghyuck and chenle simply couldn’t resist, they presumed that you not being around meant that you would never figure out the tales they spewed.

but the words falling into your hands was inevitable.

well someone did know where you had disappeared off to in that time, jeno was aware because he kept most quiet during lunch story times, only ever observing idly, biting his tongue in order for the truth to not aptly slip from his lips. donghyuck and chenle spouted their ridiculous stories while jisung scrunched his nose because he liked to believe you were all perfect, the edges which rid your personality were nothing to the golden shade he admired you.

not even jeno was that naive.

“if it really was an overdose than his parents probably would’ve bled our ears to death with the news”.

“what makes you think they didn’t just cover it all up so their little gala would be spotless?”

“he didn’t even go!”

“well that proves my point genius!”

he thinks they were much too into it.

jaemin rolled his eyes at the remarks and went back to cooing at the stupid photos of his cats he adored so much, he always attempted the mysterious approach, jeno knew he had little of that in his true personality, he was simply peculiar in his own sense.

renjun sneered, the claims entertaining though increasingly tedious to hear of every single day. jisung kept the sugarcoating to an all time high, of course he did because how else would he cope? jeno loves jisung, but he could just never understand the leaps his mind had to take in order to paint you in such a bright light.

he remembers what you said a good month before your.. ‘break’ (if it could even be called that).

“what makes you think i can’t just disappear? pull a houdini and walk into a box to never come out?”

jeno gazed, your dazzling flair displayed in the manner you motioned your hands, like you really were about to pull a houdini and escape from handcuffs. you have wanted to be many things, an author, a magician, perhaps an actor, anything that would piss off your father extensively, witness such a turning frown sprout on his face when you became something he detested.

you adored his bubbling anger.

“well for starters, your parents would never support such a thing”.

“they don’t have to, they don’t know the half of it”.

jeno supposes you did have several secrets, but how much could your parents not know? sometimes he thinks they have cameras behind their eyes, especially your father, he can’t even begin to envision your relation, it’s all looks, your father’s got nothing of a picturesque personality.

you, however, had all of it.

“how dishonest can you be with your parents before they catch on?”

your smile from that specific moment perturbs jeno, strangely, there’s a possible horror there he lingers on for a sheer moment, then it all muddles itself into nothing. he stared at you, attempting to gauge out something from the shadow which cascaded over your intent.

“you’d be surprised”.

“but you’re so..”

jeno did not collect his words in time, instead remaining silently gobsmacked despite his clear desire to say something. the hefty terms sat atop his tongue, you didn’t long for the answer, rushing on over to the widely expanded kitchen where you began rummaging through cabinets.

“i’m so? don’t you go silent on me now”.

“so bright, yeah that’s the word.. it’d be a little useless knowing everybody would suspect something sinister”.

your eyes glistened with an ingrained want, a glowing need jeno didn’t need extensive academic credentials to understand. “well i want the attention, for one”.

of course, jeno was too busy observing other things to grasp that one.

the locket had been there for a while, jeno didn’t get you that. totally platonic friends can gift their fellow friends gifts such as that, but the heart and pristine golden engravings purportedly glared in his direction, as if mocking. messing around with others was a given, jeno should’ve known somebody else could capture your attention in such a fashion, get you a gift which practically screamed i’m better than you in his face.

every time he glanced, a confining curl of unwritten envy stabbed at his stomach, the gleam at the corner of his eye always alerting him that ‘exclusive’ was not a word in your vocabulary.

he tried to ignore it.

“seriously?”

you hummed, all cute, then holding up a vintage porcelain plate, the ridges a gold akin to your locket branded in a stylish circle. your nails did nothing against the ridges, it’s likeness reminded jeno of several old paintings, the same kind which adorned the walls of your parents home. “do you wanna know what’s special about this plate, jeno?”

jeno snorted, your smile remained, your surveying eyes fixed on the material which could only produce a giggle. jeno has had bright knowledge of your various laughs, you have certain ones you love to simply sprout. your giggles are important because he’s aware they’re genuine, your laughter is always transfixed on something, someone.

for the certain person, your laughter echoes distinctly.

only one of those laughs was ever as vibrant, though,

and it wasn’t for jeno.

“enlighten me”.

“this plate is a family showpiece, it carries a stupid amount of worth, the shit goes for five thousand at best, dad had it and his daddy had it and his daddy had it and so on and so forth, mother treats it as more of a child than me”.

“is this a story?”

“it’s pertinent” you very gently placed the valuable piece onto the counter, delicately, too out of fashion for somebody in your caliber. “if my parents care about this little plate so much, whose to say they’ll even notice i’m gone?”

“a plate is your ticket to disappearing?”

“it’s an idea”.

the apparent idea was an evident success, just how was the strange outcome.

when the two week mark passed, jeno realized you really did pull it off, disappearing without anybody.. including your parents, realizing where you had gone.

scratching behind his ear, he adjoined the conversation. “wouldn’t he be at the lake house then?”

donghyuck scoffed, squeezing his cheeks into an astounding vice grip; jeno didn’t recall him ever being particularly strong, but the shit hurt. “that’s the most obvious of places, it’s why we already verified he isn’t there!”

“maybe he left the country, went on an abrupt vacation”.

“by himself?”

“what is he, twelve? y/n can handle his own shit”.

“is this all you guys are gonna talk about? i’d rather hear mark impersonate a weatherman” renjun’s complaining was on par with how the whole situation stood out.

it wasn’t expressly urgent, not because you carried little importance, but because he knew you. you’d show up and create a spectacle for the love of everything dramatic, that’s just how you were.

jeno guesses he should’ve seen it coming.

YOU ALWAYS DID ENJOY A GOOD MYSTERY, AND LUCKILY YOU HAD BEEN BORN INTO a life which offered you several millions, enough for a fully crowded library in at least one of your parents assorted properties, an innate privilege most can dream of. it’s entertainment at its finest, you would always muse. someone dies, there’s a cast of quirky characters, maybe they’re trapped on a train, an island, snowed in at some tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, it’s fun when there’s a stake.

there always is one with you.

when you were younger, you wanted to be an author, your mother went to college in hopes of someday getting out a book of her own. jeno only bears such facts in his mind due to your unabashed declaring of them to him whenever you decide you want to spend a good moment up in the clouds.

i found one of moms old drafts once, i thought it was genius, the best writing ever, i kept going back for seconds, all greedy and shit, you know? she wanted to write, but she ended up stuck with dad, stuck doing nothing important, left dreaming about the life she could’ve had if she kept punching at barriers. she made me think i could be an author too, then dad found out i said such a thing, of course he did cause he’d never let me live in peace, made sure i wouldn’t ever think of putting pen to paper, broke my right wrist, said if i cried he’d ‘make me wish i were dead’.

a typical person who understood what they truly experienced wouldn’t brush it off with a mere hand and some terse chuckles, as if it were funny, humorous, amusing, not extensively concerning because your parents should not be breaking your bones for something so small.

cannabis is where the true honesty lies.

that’s terrifying, something along those lines jeno had muttered, his reminiscing can be shifty, blurred.

but he does recall you laughing at it all, your ‘childhood memories’ holding nothing of the vibrance they should, especially for somebody in your situation.

“well at least i have money” and the books continued stacking, as if you were to climb them like a leader. jeno read the fine print embroidered over the covers as best he could, eyes opting to squint instead in order for the terms to appear somewhat readable. head up in the clouds, he snorted at nothing, merely your stack of several books, the stupid stack which practically towered over you, a staggering six feet.. or he thinks, jeno must’ve been too high, numbers appearing as whatever they pleased. “all because my daddy made an investment when he was eighteen, the wonders of the world!”

you had that knack, rambling, droning on and on about shit jeno could only stare idly at. occasionally his brain erased terms of importance, streaming words blurring into an extensive ear ringing pattern. he listened in various moments, wavering in and out of seeming consciousness.

you loved to talk, jeno always enjoyed listening.

giggles are endless when the weed settles, and jeno will admit that they were so fucking cute, it wasn’t just the expanded affection coloring his brain, anybody could admit you produced adorable noises. “well someday it may all just go”.

“when that happens i may just have to go with it”.

jeno recalls choking on nothing, the words slightly brightening despite the effect drugs clearly have on auditory nerves.. mostly. “is that a threat?”

“it’s a promise! anyway, let me tell you all there is about crooked house!”

it was a threat, not in the typical way threats are fashioned, and you could dish out some good ultimatums when you desired, it’s why jisung always jumped at the sight of your strangely crafted smile. jeno had no true fear of you, not whilst you lived anyway, you were simply.. well a bit freakish, not in accordance with someone like jaemin, jeno couldn’t exactly interpret the many lines which dealt themselves across your skin, all that determination instead focused on other aspects.

kissing was nice, giggling over weed as you two acted like everything was real and the illusion held up in some manner jeno almost wishes could crowd his facade. it was no secret that exclusivity made you feel all terribly, your stomach curling with that stupid heat which rendered one bed sick all day. you truly enjoyed the whole acting approach, it is not as if you were some emotionless bastard, far from it in fact, you just mused that life was too short for relationships to keep you bound indefinitely.

jeno simply got wrapped up in what you described as “all tumultuous”, enthralled by the picture of you, various perks he had been hooked upon ever since he realized that you do not have feelings like that for your regular platonic best friend when your in high school and he’s branded as whorish.

and every single time he glanced at the locket, he would hope to retch it all up, he couldn’t fathom such a gift simply tightening itself around his point of respiration. his gaze trained on it in every particular moment of importance, carvings taunting him.

“we should make cookies” you lept from your spot instantly, almost tripping straight into a shelf, about putting a wood shaped hole in your head. “we need to make oatmeal chocolate chip this time”.

“can you even walk?”

“i don’t need my legs to make cookies” and then you stumbled over, hands bracing his own as you wrestled when pulling him upward, jeno doing his own purposeful hard work in order to bruise your attempt a few, just to play with you. “hey, i’m not playing around here”.

“but it’s so fun”.

jeno really assumed the locket was nothing,

it was too much.

“you won’t get any, then”.

“but i have to do all the work!”

it was an unfortunate night of messes, the cookies turned out good, you knocked out in a matter of minutes, snuggled against his side with occasional shivers alerting him that you had not just silently passed in your sleep, the rise and fall of your chest keeping the warmth around him elevated.

jeno supposes you may have been closer to other people, but a fucking locket doesn’t mean anything, not in comparison to baking cookies while exchanging kisses in a kitchen, snickering over inside jokes nobody else would ever recognize though you were both high out of your minds, disoriented beyond relief.

or maybe that is just what most people think when they get caught up in a situation they don’t have control over, with the huge glaring issue of not knowing how much you understand the person you’re infatuated by.

a lot of it keeps pounding into his head, continuous, a good add on to regrets his conscious delivers.

“HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS UP?” BECAUSE DONGHYUCK ALWAYS TOOK THE blunt approach when it came to whatever the fuck you two had going on, a sore subject that he had his clear suspicions about but uttered on a small-scale. crushes are their own feat of normalcy, yet donghyuck was aware you weren’t the most regular of people, so was jeno and chenle and mark and jaemin and renjun, maybe jisung kept the wool over his eyes, but that’s jisung, jeno perceived that as a simple rite of passage, he was mostly akin to your shadow more than anything.

“ugh, what now?”

“why so annoyed, jeno? it’s not like you to suddenly be so inattentive with these things”.

“it’s cause his feelings are too big”.

“fuck you”.

“ouch! my heart!” donghyuck opted for a performance bit, a hand placed atop his heart, his figure falling backward onto various cushions, presumably feigning death, abject despair from words jeno usually didn’t speak, even when they were irritating him with their consistent kissy noises and pairing eyebrow raises. “how rude jeno, you killed him!”

“he deserved it”.

when donghyuck rose again, he swooped his head upward and fixed his hair, not even a strand meeting fingertips. then his arms propped up over the advanced table and he narrowed his eyes, the extensive attention on jeno. “seriously, it’s a good maybe two weeks before y/n decides he wants to hop on another one”.

“that’s a little ironic coming from you—“

“this is about y/n, not me, you can’t talk about morals to me”.

“yeah but i can talk about hypocrisy”.

“do you even know what that means? you ever open a dictionary, chenle? or did you have a nanny do it for you? little bitch..”

“oh no jeno is y/n’s little bitch”.

jeno scrunched his nose, the language nothing of a bother yet having met his senses in various rushing fashions, that may have just been the wine, donghyuck and his stupid wine collection which always pinched at his throat unbearably. how he even drank that stuff is beyond jeno’s comprehension.

he was about to say something, perhaps a week argument in his favor, but renjun of all people beat him to it.

“that’s much more up jisung’s alley”.

“hey! don’t get on jisung’s case, he’s a baby”.

“a tall eighteen year old baby, why don’t i get his treatment?”

“you’re a literal monster, at least jisung has redeeming qualities”.

“i have many redeeming qualities! i’m chivalrous!”

jeno is sure chenle could not spout the definition of that word even at gunpoint, all crossed arms and large mouthed when it mattered, because being right in comparison to donghyuck was all that mattered.

“renjun called jisung a bitch, i think he should get booted from the group” jaemin aimed his glass in the former’s direction, shaking his head, his attachment is all obvious, not much of a glare yet enough for jeno to have unraveled a mere animosity. jaemin can be uncanny, yes, but jaemin doesn’t typically hate. “and hyuck called y/n a slut”.

“i didn’t say that!”

“it was implied”.

“implied my ass it’s nothing no one else hasn’t said before, mark didn’t even show up!”

jeno squinted, that was strange, even with his stance on things, the whole thing was a tradition most of them took with true pride, drinking in a circle accompanied by your friends who aren’t exactly friends in the general sense of the word is something most people cannot resist, jisung only avoided such a custom because he didn’t want to drink underage, a rule follower from birth. mark not showing up was weird but jeno guessed he had more important things to do which did not include a group of them shaming you before him.

it was the first of those meetings which did not include you, peculiarly enough because you and hyuck pretty much started the whole thing, a bit ironic considering all you two did was argue when the terrible wine finally settled.

everyone enjoyed watching.

“mark is probably sick of your shit”.

“and y/n’s also literally missing! for all we know he’s dead in mexico or something..”

“you don’t seem that concerned, it won’t be long until you see him in hell”.

“anyway” donghyuck waved his hand renjun’s way, ignoring him with the smile that always sprouted when he was drunk. “jeno, i’m just looking out for you, y/n’s like a shark, you know? he’ll drain you of all your life and then leave you all dry when there are bigger fish around”.

“could you get that cushion for me?”

“smother him!”

chenle glanced donghyuck’s way. “i can’t say i didn’t see it coming”.

donghyuck again fainted over the couch, his heart having stopped at such rough words from those who were meant to be his coveted friends till death or whatever. maybe mark should have been there, he’s the only one jeno has recollection of being to calm them down, you were always the catalyst for blow ups, it caused something of a terrific spike in your heart, all smiles as you watched everybody grow more agitated.

“think you’re the last person on earth who should complain about someone sleeping around, hyuckie”.

“don’t call me that”.

“no seriously, you wanna be all big and bad, what if y/n was here, huh? you’re no better than jisung, don’t even have the guts to say it to his face”.

jeno’s eyes passed over the two arguing, there was no contest, jaemin would beat donghyuck to a pulp, all for him having a big mouth, at least you could put up a good fight, donghyuck wished. “what’s wrong with telling the truth?”

“y/n would kick your ass”.

“well he isn’t here to kick my ass, maybe you could do it for him, hm? if jeno won’t do the pleasure”.

jeno clicked his tongue, it was too late by then, one in the morning, rounding the corner halfway to two, he decided it was the perfect time to exit. if donghyuck ended up getting punched by jaemin like he so dearly wished then chenle would send him the video, maybe renjun would giggle or something, jeno couldn’t even say he was entirely against it, most of the debacle was hilarious.

“if you do get into it i don’t wanna be here for that”.

“but what if you need to hold hyuckie back when he throws a punch?”

“i said don’t call me that”.

“well what are you gonna do about it?”

“ladies please!”

jeno hummed, offering his best eye smile despite the overwhelming situation. “i’m sure y/n will send a postcard or something, you two do all the damage you desire”.

“wait why are you leaving me with them?” renjun whined. “take me with you please!”

“good night, renjun”.

he’s sure renjun cursed him to hell that night, and maybe he deserved it, not entirely.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK SOMEBODY WOULD GAIN FROM MURDERING Y/N?” JENO HAS NEVER THOUGHT detectives could truly have that horrific look in their eyes, all of it beholding a degree of barbarity he typically never witnesses in men, but he guesses he has only gazed upon men who had no true terrible intent, jeno realizes he would never recognize if he were looking the murderer in the face that night, and that’s masquerading well in a crowd. he blinks, he doesn’t have to think for that one.

“satisfaction” he drawls. “it probably would’ve been momentary, maybe they didn’t want to kill him but—“ then he gets a look, jeno knows that look because every time jaemin says something that doesn’t really make sense he can’t help but gaze that way. “i mean, i don’t even know what i’m saying, i’m sorry i haven’t slept at all”.

“usually people are more honest when they’re exhausted” jeno supposes his inhale is too loud in the room’s expanse, because the detective does that smile thing which freaks him out, eyes rid of their typical color, as if they’re pitch black. “and honesty is the key in an investigation”.

jeno bites the inside of his cheek, he begins scratching at the junction his wrist shares to his hand. “think, i’m sure you all have interesting answers”.

“well throwing our lives to shit for one” jeno winces, the continuous scratching made for good pain. “of course y/n wasn’t the greatest but he also wasn’t the spawn of satan, he wouldn’t invite people who despised him to his birthday party”.

“so what gives you the impression that one of you didn’t do it?”

jeno almost flinches, he barely keeps it all together, hands kept clasped together like he’s on life support, glued shut, he can’t pull them apart. he blinks, two separate blinks as if he’s some idiot who cannot comprehend big words. “like.. the seven of us?”

“if people who hated him weren’t there then they possibly couldn’t have done it, right? you know people are most likely to be murdered by someone they know well in comparison to some one off enemy”.

jeno’s eye twitches, donghyuck probably knew that, heck you probably knew yourself, courtesy of the many detective stories you two can’t help but have littering across your shelves. “well i don’t.. i just can’t see one of them doing it, i know that probably isn’t a good answer but i can’t imagine fucking— renjun grabbing a knife and stabbing y/n like seven times”.

his eyes again light up, he gets too excited over things he shouldn’t, but he guesses being a detective entails that, excitement for words which don’t come out completely right, eyes all glowy like some over obsessed teenager. “well maybe that’s just an indication that you don’t know your friends as well as you may think, time means nothing when you all have secrets”.

jeno remains silent, a bad sign.

“you know what was missing when y/n died?” his fingers poke at a certain file, his eyes do not stray off jeno, however, his lips do that side hook upward, all cocky, a sham. “no i really want you to take a guess”.

“i have nothing in mind”.

the detective decides to drop a crystal clear picture of the crime scene before him, jeno instinctively moves back in his seat, but there is also another photo there, a photo of your college id.

the fucking locket.

jeno is sure he’s paled, as if he’s seen a ghost.

the detective whistles, drawing a figurative circle around your neck, pointed in a very specific direction. “you wouldn’t happen to know who got him this locket, do you?”

well jeno guesses this is a good time to be honest.

“no, i’m sure one of them knows, but it’s not me”.

“ah, maybe you should swear an oath on that, then”.

jeno isn’t sure he can swear on anything, not on his parents, nor on god or the law or anything credible, he didn’t do anything, he’s sure none of them did either but how is he supposed to trust them?

he knows them, he knows enough.

of course jeno’s a coward, not jisung cowardly but he presumes he could make a good stance on that point. there are too many other issues for him to be worrying about stupid things like lockets or if you actually loved or not or—

when jeno leaves that interrogation room, he craves to just bash his head in on the nearest wall, images of the locket flashing in his brain like some stupid movie.

he’s sure he has a migraine creeping up on him.

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[inkagenda]

do you have any fun or random hensper headcannons???

i do!!! thanks for giving me an excuse to dump some of them :)

1) jasper is very affectionate but was really surprised to find out that henry is even cornier. once they've gotten together and figured their shit out, henry goes all out. he just constantly flirts with jasper, pulling out the "i'm in a band" line and sending cringey redflix and chill memes, even though they're literally already together.

2) jasper never grew out of his bucket phase; he just started keeping it to himself because he figured no one actually cared. henry noticed this, so when he sees a random bucket, he'll point it out, or he'll pretend to have a photo of a bucket pop up on his twitflash feed, just so he can get jasper to start talking about buckets again. one time, he even bought a miniature bucket and randomly gave it to jasper to use as a pencil case, and when jasper looked all confused, henry tried to play it cool and was all like "oh, i thought you still liked buckets." (jasper did, in fact, still like buckets (he kept the pencil bucket)).

3) henry is jasper's go-to when he's freaking out (which is kind of already canon tbh). in love muffin when omar spits on jasper, henry's there with a rag and a hand on jasper's shoulder. he's reassuring jasper, saying things like "it's alright, it's not that bad, come here," which makes me believe henry is just more gentle and affectionate than anyone else when it comes to jasper, which is why he's the best at comforting jasper. other people wouldn't speak to jasper softly the way henry does or give him hugs and comforting touches.

and then there's the quiet times when jasper has to calm henry down or try to make him feel better, and jasper is incredibly good at it. except there are times where he just can't always do his best because they're currently in a time where henry has only girlfriends, and jasper is his best friend, so even though he likes henry, he's there when henry ends up between girlfriends or in an argument. and when this happens, he always ends up doing something dumb to cheer henry up, like grabbing henry's hand and playing a game of thumb war or rock, paper, scissors. so he'll take henry's hand and place it on top of his own closed fist and then goes “you win… yay!” and lets go to pump his fists in the air. it's stupid, but it always works on henry.

4) when they lived in their apartment in dystopia, grocery shopping was quite literally a game for them. they sucked at it, so they had to make it fun otherwise they wouldn't get what they needed or do it right. but the games started to get physical to the point where they'd get kicked out, so they stuck to just making puns out of brands and stuff. but then they'd get competitive and physical again, so it's now a cycle.

5) and future married-with-kids hensper is just them timing each other and seeing who can speed-run getting the kids dressed or ready for school the fastest.

and idk if this counts as a headcanon but missy had a hensper phase!! when they arrive to a new reality, and henry is suddenly dressed in a tuxedo, he's just totally confused. and ray steps inside and he's like "kid, what the hell are you doing? get out here." and then he's just standing there thinking that he's the best man at jasper's wedding, until jasper walks down the aisle, and henry realizes what's happening.

(i also have one that's kinda the opposite way. it's the same concept, except henry is pushed through the doors and is made to walk down the aisle).

[claitea]

i've had these scenarios written down since volo's debut in pokemon masters and i just really wanted to scribble them down and finally release them

[edwinisms]

i get such a sense of primal envy when looking at edwin’s clothes up close because god you can just tell his coat is real wool and made to last and not cheap flimsy mass produced garbage and auggagghhhh that was just STANDARD in his time. by no means am i saying i was #borninthewronggeneration because i like having vaccines and household appliances but. man. to have a personally-tailored coat like that that’d last for years and years……. and fabrics of fine thread-dense quality………. if only

[coquelicoq]

i just don't understand what milady has done that was so bad. sure she killed and she kidnapped, but who hasn't? sure she's a terrifying demon of vengeance, but she deserves it? good for her??? all these men treat her so reprehensibly and she's smart and talented and she should kill them all if she wants to. i support her.

[245inthemorning]

beth washington did not die and get cannibalized by her own sister for the until dawn film adaptation to look this bad