#but it’s nice to kno my art still has worth even if it’s just a little sketch u kno

[shuckstruck]

i’m gonna be real w you guys. it’s scary to feel confident about ur art online but everybody here has always been so lovely about anything i post and i’m so :’) i’m super touched every time someone interacts w my art

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

another helping of living w/ bakugou thoughts:

pls i am so sorry, i feel like i bombard y’all with these constantly, but u don’t understand, he literally lives in my brain full time

- if you’re rolling your sleeves up, to wash your hands before dinner, he’ll whack your hands away and do it himself. very much “you’re takin’ too long, idiot. i wanna eat already. let me do it.”,, don’t be fooled tho, you could do it in 2.5 seconds and he’d still open his mouth. bc it has absolutely nothing to do with u and everything to do with him wanting to be close to you

-ik he watches the mha equivalent of the history channel. i just know it. dude is a grandpa at heart, n im so confident he would 100% sit down and watch a 3 hr docu on like, old weaponry or some nerdy shit

-bakugou is annoyingly arrogant, but only about things that don’t matter. like, he’ll fully sit in front of you and tell you he’s stronger/faster/smarter in passing conversation,, but when he does actually impressive shit??? the man clams up. absolutely clams up the second you praise him, trying to brush off whatever ridiculous feat he just pulled to protect u with a “It’s not that big a deal, shut up about it already, dumbass.” 

- pls mans is an absolute simp. u ask him to do something and he’s on his feet in a second. ofc he’s complaining but he’s also then following that up by doing things you didn’t even ask him to do. fan behavior honestly.

-when you’ve had a bad day, he’ll make u food and throw blankets in the dryer for u. don’t expect much verbal comforting from him, bc obviously, but he’s pretty good with actions. you always feel a little warmer after he’s wrapped you in a blanket n fed you something ungodly spicy

- i have absolutely no basis for this but ik he secretly watches kids movies. like, if it’s animated then he’s there. ofc no one is allowed to find out about this ‘embarrassing’ behavior tho, except maybe you. maybe. if you accidentally happen to see it bc he’d never tell u himself.

- he’s a beast to wake up in the morning, but he’s a lot more easy to convince if u pet his hair. or rub his back/shoulders. maybe even kiss his neck. look, u cannot tell me that he doesn’t want to be absolutely coddled in the morning- especially when he can get away with it so easily. 

-bakugou always pulls ur legs into his lap if u sit down next to him. pls he’s so weird, he’ll just like, tap his fingers on ur calves absentmindedly while he’s watching tv

-he probably created a playlist of songs ur ‘allowed’ to play around him. meaning, it’s only the songs on ur phone that he likes 🙄

-bakugou always takes his work phone calls outside. like if his phone rings he’ll just stand up n walk tf out the door to take it. even if it’s cold. u ask him once about it n he just “Work stays at work. This is my fuckin’ home. Now shut up about it already.”

-you’ve never once seen this man wearing socks around the house. don’t ask me, i cannot explain this whatsoever, but i just kno this man walks around constantly barefoot 🤢🤮 unfortunately.

-he’s like, the most functional person ever in almost every aspect, but the stuff katsuki is bad at?? pls he is hopelessly bad. like, lets say art stuff. omg he just doesnt have the patience for it, okay, so say goodbye to any dreams of cute lil couple’s crafts. like, he’ll sit there while u do yours, but his will look like utter shit

- during the week, katsuki is either at work, training, or at home. pls, he works so hard during the day that i highly doubt he’s anything but an absolute homebody during the work week.

- bakugou gets pissy if u re-arrange any of the furniture on a whim. pls he likes comfort and familiarity n if he stubs his toe on the stupid coffee table one more fucking time, he’s going to scream

-its a rare occurance,, especially bc of the crazy hours he works,, but bakugou rlly likes making dinner for u to come home to. he just likes to feel like he’s taking care of u tbh

-he still goes to bed at like 8:30. or thats what u think, but rlly he just goes to sit in your room and have some time to himself for a bit. as much as he loves u, he prob still needs some alone time to recharge

-bakugou takes meticulous care of any plants u have in the house. like he’ll water them on a strict-ass schedule, n preen them when necessary. pls the way he’ll curse them out if they even dare to wilt under his care?? very much “What the hell, you bitch? ‘m doin’ everything fuckin’ perfect! Grow already!”

-katsuki is such a little bitch when he’s sick. he’ll be running like a 103 temp, brain literally melting, and still trying to get up and work out. the only way u can get him to chill the hell out is if u take a nap with him. ofc that means u always get sick too,, but hey- lil sacrifices right??

-he never lets you get the door. like, if there’s a knock n neither of u knows who it could be,, pls he’s on his feet so fast. waving u away n looking thru the keyhole w/ sm suspicion

-he has his spot on the couch, n u will not find him sitting anywhere else. like, that’s his spot. u better pray for anybody who mistakenly takes it

-bakugou doesn’t like dirt or grime, so he won’t allow you or himself, to sit on your bed with clothes that have been outside. like, even if you’re just sitting on top of the covers, he’s gonna throw a fit and demand you change your clothes first bc “No way in hell am I gonna let your dumbass dirty up my bed.”

-katsuki rlly likes when it storms outside. he’ll go sit in front of the window and watch the rain, sipping on a warm drink while he waits for more thunder. 

-living with bakugou is incredibly frustrating, bc he’ll just show up with new skills all of the goddamn time. like you’ll be like, “hmm i’d love to remodel the bathroom someday”,, and the very next weekend bakugou is meticulously re-tiling the bathroom floor by hand, probably also painting the walls in a new color, maybe even installing a new sink just to spruce it up. n then he’ll just present the entirely new, upgraded room with such weird nonchalance that it pisses u off. pls and if you watch him while he does these little projects, with all the weird precision and skill he suddenly gains?? pls you’re sure he must be possessed by the ghost of a craftsman

- when he hangs out with the bakusquad, he’ll drag you along every time. he expects you to sit with him the entire time and act as a social buffer?? basically, someone’ll ask him a question, one he deems stupid and therefore not worth answering, and bakugou will just look at you expectantly. he’ll just stare at you blankly, hardly even blinking until you pick up the slack and answer for him. you call him out on this many times, but it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t change anything. he does this over and over and over again

-bakugou gets really unsettled when you guys fight. like, he can’t sleep and he’s snapping at everybody, and is somehow more aggressive than usual. he always wants to just make up already, but the pride in the way won’t allow it

-he’s a weird stickler about intended furniture functionality?? like, the table is for eating, and the couch is for watching tv, and then only way you’re gonna get him to mix the two is if you ask him rlly rlly nicely

-finally- i have no basis for this one, but ik it in my heart: bakugou has a very intense fight with your thermostat nearly every single day. he swears up and down that it never ‘behaves’ for him, but every time you check it, it’s working perfectly fine

--/-- 

ahahhaa sorry y’all for the super random spam today,, but here were are back to our regularly scheduled bakugou programming,,,, bc idk if it’s obvious ur honor, but i love him

[aclosetfan]

8

And Np

(ask game)

haha dude you’re like my new best friend now lmao thanks so much for being interested enough to ask about my dumb ideas!

Eight is titled “Artistic Aspirations” which isn’t a creative title at all. It’s another multi-chapter, no powers au, blues fic!! Personally, I think it's too safe and boring to write. The story spans a few years; I’ve shortened the outline to make it readable, but it still ended up being too long, sorry.

Background on the girls at the start of the story:

Bubbles is 21 and a broke, struggling artist finishing/right out of undergrad. Lives in Cityville. she’s on the verge of having to crawl home to her family with her tail between her legs

BC is 23 and finishing her physical therapy program in Townsville. Still lives with the Professor, but she practically lives full time at her boyfriend's place. She’s semi-neurotic about her relationship, not because it’s unstable, but b/c she thinks it’s too good to be true. Butch, for what it’s worth, doesn’t blink an eye—just a chill dude in this one. VERY into BC.

Blossom is 25 and starting her law career. Lives on the East Coast, working for a successful firm. Would like to move back home at one point, but she hasn’t really had the “right” reason to.

Plot (under the cut!)

It opens with Bubbles at a diner waiting for her sisters at their regular booth. Life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like she had hoped. At the diner, Buttercup announces that she and her long-term boyfriend are finally engaged! Bubbles has met Butch plenty of time as well as Brick, Butch’s older brother, but she has yet to meet his youngest brother. In fact, Bubbles doesn’t even know his name. Butch just affectionately refers to him as “my dumbass little brother,” which Brick (a defense lawyer here in Townsville) wholeheartedly agrees with. Butch has also said “he’s into all that artsy stuff like you. Draws and shit.”

Until they finally meet at the wedding

He wasn’t there for the wedding rehearsal because his flight was delayed—he was somewhere “fancy” according to Butch b/c of some “art thing, idk, he’ll be here.” “He better be!” Cries HIM, who is one of Butch’s dads, but Bubbles doesn’t really know how exactly b/c everyone is adamant that HIM and Mojo (their other eccentric father) have never once been in a relationship

So when Bubs finally meets the brother she’s walking down the aisle with, she—a person who has an undergrad degree in art (haven’t decided what kind yet lol)—is like WAIT BOOMER JOJO THE BOOMER JOJO?!?! He’s like, “lol sup” and she loses her mind because Butch’s dumbass little brother doesn’t just “draw and shit,” he’s actually an art world prodigy, who despite being very young and very alive, is considered very renowned in major art circles.

(Not Banksy per se, but he’s like one of those Bad Boy artists that would make other artists roll their eyes) (also a man of many projects but doesn’t have the follow-through for a lot of them—which if he wasn’t so good at the stuff he actually finishes, would bite him in the ass; he’s flaky, gets bored easily).

Bubbles is amazed she hasn’t made the connection between the brothers and Boomer just laughs.

There’s, quite predictably, an instant connection between the blues. Butch, who cares for his sister-in-law, is like “Bubs don’t date my brother. He’s not mature enough to be dating anyone.” And Bubbles doesn’t listen!! Because she’s desperate for love and this could also mean she’s finally getting her big break!! Their relationship is really intense and Boomer does end up getting her a nice cushy job at some indie gaming company that he’s dipping his toes in. But just a quick as the flame is lit, it goes out. Boomer gets bored, Bubbles’ art isn’t being taken seriously, and she ends up getting fired for creative differences. Fired and despondent, she gets her break-up text from Boomer the next day. The day after that, he’s dating a model.

Absolutely crushed, Bubbles packs up her bags, leaves his apartment, and moves back in with the Professor. Butch and Buttercup (and Brick—but he’s at work) are ready to kick ass. Bubbles though would rather forget about it and holes up in her childhood bedroom. Eventually, BC gets her out of the room, brings her to Butch and her’s home, and is like “listen I know you’re heartbroken, but ima need you to do something for me—“ and Bubbles is like omg srsly?? Right now?? And BC is like “I need a mural on that wall, something cutesy, ya kno a stork or something?” And Bubbles is about to snap but then, she's like WAIT A STORK!!! And a new baby on the way really brings Bubbles out of her stupor—it gets her painting again. (Bubbles is full of love and you can’t tell me she doesn’t love babies)

So the mural is a hit at the baby shower and Robin (longtime best friend, also pregnant), is like Bubbles please paint me one, and her partner Princess is like MONEY IS NO OBJECT IF ROBIN WANTS IT SHE GETS IT. And then, subsequently, Robin’s (and Princess’s) mural takes off in the rich, white lady community, and soon enough Bubbles is being commissioned for more than just Baby Murals. Princess goes around bragging that she was the one who “discovered her,” and becomes Bubbles' “business agent.”

Basically, Bubbles is on the rise. As opposed to Boomer, who is on the fall. He’s hit an art block. It’s really bad. His melancholy is really bad. Very much plays the “woe is me" card. Hasn’t been back to Townsville in a while, so when his nephew (who he’s met briefly over facetime lol) turns one, he decides to fly in for his birthday.

Plans to mope and bum off his brothers for a bit, but is shocked to see Bubbles, who he then realizes he shouldn’t be so shocked to see. Has a ream “this was a mistake, she’ll make scene” moment, but Bubbles greets him as if nothing between them had ever happened (LIKE A QUEEN). Boomer takes this personally. Then Boomer meets Princess, who gloats about Bubbles, and then, looks at the award-winning boy and goes, “so anyway, who are you again?”

This pisses Boomer off even more and then, over the course of the week he stays with the greens, this anger builds up. He eventually takes it out on Bubbles, like, “you wouldn’t be who you are without me.”

[cue that one blinking gif] Bubbles goes off. Boomer storms off. Romance is in the air.

Jk

[well I guess the reds are hitting it off, but that’s c-plot and who cares]

Princess isn’t privy to this growing resentment and only sees an Opportunity™. She reaches out to Boomer’s agent. Then, she reaches out to a museum, and is like “I’ve got the most BITCHING exhibit for you.” Then, she tells Bubbles about the gig she booked for her.

Bubbles and Boomer are like no way am I doing a collab with them. Boomer’s agent is like “chief ima be real with you, it’s this or nothing.” Princess looks at Bubbles and tells her to suck it up. So, they end up working together, which means Boomer is back in Townsville.

Cue lovers to enemies to friends back to lovers speedrun. Hello yes.

Because they’re forced to collaborate, because Bubbles is more confident, and because Boomer has been knocked down a peg or two, they actually (finally) get to know each other on a personal level. And being closer to family helps Boomer, in some ways, mature. It’s a whole connecting back to your roots “ive grown and im better now” character development for Boomer.

Ends ambiguous ;) but it's happy.

[mikkock]

Hey hi your murder mystery art is super totally cool and amazing and I'd like to Extra! Extra! hear all about it *rattles bells*

haha wow i cant believe ud ask me THIS! unbelievable! now im gonna have to make a long post!

all info under the cut cause im kind like that ♥

For reasons I felt like making a Fancy Ass murder mystery story, with you know, hella complex secret storylines and everyone having drama and shit, and one person died but the more the story goes the less people care about who did the murder and the more they want tHE JUICY DETAILs. X and Y had an afFAIR you say!!! well that’s thousands time more interesting than that murder that happened, who cares about the culprit its not like any of us are going anywhere anyway! tell me more about the marital issues!

The ultimate Vibes are Clue (the game, ya kno, it had a movie too, and that movie was shot with three different endings -fun fact- so that movie theatres could play one alternatively that way people wouldnt get spoiled or even if they did they would not get the ending they were spoiled or even if all three were spoiled you couldnt know which ending you were getting anyway, big dick move, cause its an old movie and film is expensive, also that movie stupid and campy, ALSO I ONLY LEARNED MAKING THIS AU THAT IN ENGLISH THE GAME’S CALLED “CLUE” wE CALL IT CLUEDO therefore my wip playlist is called cluedo. because. fuck it.)(i just have an emotional attachment to that game i even had a cd rom video game version and it was the spookiest shit for a 6 years old, trust me, i played it so much tho i didnt even understand the rULES i was just making scenarios like gathering the characters in rooms n making conversations outloud cause honestly the banter is the best part of a murder mystery) ANYWAY that sure is a whole paragraph of tangent. 

BUT YE the inspo from the Clue game. you can tell it from the Colours obviously, everyone’s colour codded.(even everyone’s name is colours as well you’ll see it’s real dang fancy! im just remaking that game but with 2932020 characters and more behind the scenes drama and also for gay people.)

So BASIC PLOT!

Sir Belyy, the dude in white, is The Rich Powerful Respected Fancy Boss, and he throws a Fancy Reception Party with his closest friends and associates to celebrate the opening of a new branch of his business. All the lads gather in his wonderful little very isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere, like ok he got a death wish or something or he’s very trusting of his business partners, but not a good move, cause in the middle of the reception, as A Phat Storm Starts (for plot convenience, we going with a campy vibe if you couldnt tell), his body is found, it’s awful, there’s a killer on the loose! All the guests gather, and attempt to maybe contact the authorities, to not avail, since The Storm ya know, phone lines are Broken my dude. Its clear that the culprit is among them, since no one could have entered the house, or left it (cuz once again, ThE sTORm). And then it’s all about interrogating each other, distrust, alliances and betrayal, revealing one’s deepest secrets when they form an alibi and revealing someone else’s deepest secret for they could be a motive! Meanwhile there’s a dead body in the mansion just chillin there. 

.

So as I mentioned, I changed everyone’s name to be colour related (or ya know, food or flowers of that colour cause sometimes a colour in a language would not work as a name given the way names work in that culture all that jazz) which is the trippiest thing cause tHATS NOT YALLS USUAL NAMES but its fun (also changed so many ages hgfhs it was a trip)(still no one’s really old i guess i got boomerphobia). The “Cast” is clearly the most important part, and if ur a True “My OCs” Connaisseur (hdfghd the most useful skill to have, knowing *MY* Charactersdshgd) you may have recognised some faces and can already read some vibes and predict who will be progressing the plot and who will be yelling at people throwing accusations ghdfgd.

(god i wish i hadnt slacked off making the portraits of everyone in that AU i only have 3 tho that’s so sad so ill just make little sketches just cause <3 only text??? i got too many hoes with no attention span for that)

.

Sir BELYY (the one who dIEs lmao)

(bust shot missing the fact that this man is the tallest beefiest lad around)

Intimidating, powerful, composed, wealthy, carries the name of a family who has generations of control to it’s reputation, he’s The Man that hoes who believe in the economy wishes they were. As in, the “self made” man who only just happened to benefit from having a wealthy background to uplift his plans. In his youth, he wanted to prove his worth, seperated himself from his father, started a business, that business became big, then got attached to the family’s business, bam back to square one but with Reputation now. There seemed to be VERY big tension between him and The Father, some speculate it had to do with his unknown mother, and some family drama there, and it never got resolved as old man Belyy died quite young (the jUICY speculations are that current sir Belyy mURDEREd old man sir Belyy, fucked up if true!). People love him though in general, as he has that reputation of “Cold Lad With a Gold Heart” aka he takes people under his wings, donates, doesnt treat his employees like the absolute worst garbage etc... you know, he’s rich and a half decent person, so obviously he’s an angel on earth. But does it matter though, he’s dead! that’s the concept of the story!  

Mr.GRAY (the grey guest)(who could have guessed from the name)

He’s one of Sir Belyy’s oldest employees, and benefits from a high rank in the company. But, sadly for him, he’s been stagnating lately, as newer, youngest employees seem to have Belyy’s favours, and are his prefered associates for important tasks and positions. Therefore he has Some Bitterness, Some Salt, Some Distaste, some unbriddled but professionally muted hatred for Specific people in the company. He can be an antagonistic figure, but the amount of time he spent in Belyy’s circle grants him an immense quantity of information about the man, but mostly, about his business. Anything about the company’s history, dealings, operations, he’s aware of, either having been told of them, or having snooped around to obtain, immune to being questioned due to his legitimacy in the company.

Mr.LIM (the green guest)

Remember when it was said that Gray had beef with some employees cause they were younger and rose to high ranks faster than him and became Belyy’s favourite over him? Yeah well here comes the one he hates the most for that (ofc he’s belyys fave cuz he’s Mine <3) Our lad caught Belyy’s attention for his Exploits in like, em fancy high school tournaments of smart people, it’s a thing its ridiculous, making kids compete on Smart stuff for the pride of their schools n shit, well homie Lim got clout when doing that, and Belyy was extremely interested cause that kid’s main thing was how “this young lad got mad strategic skills tf are u a war general or smth how fancy”, and that’s a coveted skill for ruthless business. So as soon as the kid is an adult, bam, join the company my dude. And because he’s just that Cool n Sexy ofc he met the expectations Belyy had, and old man Belyy got attached cuz it do be such a young lad, a kid, mentally i am adopting. That’s how you get a youngas employee becoming the right hand man of one the phatest CEO in a few years, and even make your way into being a Good Lad on top of a business partner. And that’s how you get Gray to hate your ass too. Now though, fine lad with mad strategic skills, rising to power that fast, and even infiltrating Belyy’s private life? If I were Gray I’d call suspicion there’s surely some shady stuff going no way we’re just dealing with a nice fella who just happens to work good and be friendly to the boss right?

Herra MUSTA (the black “guest”)

Belyy’s newest butler, assistant, house keeper, he multitasks. His family has been tied to Belyy’s for generations, fullfilling roles of help, but also of confidents. He’s been the head butler since only a short time, after his mother passed, and as such is still “in training” you could say, despite having served the family his whole life. There are rumours going around that the contract tying his family to the Belyys may end on his generation and need to be resigned. He known the manor by heart, and carries all keys to any locked room (and mostly, The Master Key, cause in an old house, some doors may be locked beyond all still existing keys). He also knows secrets of the family that no one else knows, but good luck getting em out of him, he’s under contract not to divulge em bro.

Mr. HASSEL (the brown guest)

Belyy’s childhood friend. They grew up together, pictured their dreams together, sworn to flourish together, worked together when starting the company, and then Hassel felt he should create his own thing instead of depending on his friend’s existing wealth, and while Belyy’s business went wild, his never took off. They still stayed very close, despite the massive difference in wealth. Belyy considers him his closest friend, the one person he can trust (fucked if hassel did the murder lemme tell u). So of course, he’s still always invited to the Prestigious meet ups where’s he’s free to feel uncomfortably out of place amongst all the rich and powerful people that he could have been a part of had he had a tiny bit of luck and a small loan from a wealthy relative...People LOVE saying he’s still hanging out with Belyy so much to leech off his wealth, cause of course they do! His bestie status means he has a whole different brand of information of Belyy than his butler does, the Most Intimate Stuff, the Childhood Stuff. The Juicy stuff ya kno...But Bro Code, its all secrets...

Sir RUZH (the red “guest”)

Deep dive into Belyy’s personnal history, the man has many employees working at his house keeping it working, clean, ya know the vibe. They live on the premice, one has a kid who’s just a Joy to be around, all the employees just vibe with that lad, he’s just a born socialite you know? Belyy gets to meet the kid, and also hella vibes with him. And because human are influenced by their feelings, he gives the kid’s mum a bit of a preferencial treatment, in the tasks she fullfils and all, til he gives her an important-as mission, and then there’s an accident n mama dies, and now Belyy got guilt and there’s this kid who just Vibes. So naturally the move is to take the kid in, and play on how his vibes are just so clean, and raise him to be the Perfect Entertainer for guests, bam, its soft power propaganda, if everyone loves your now son’s vibes, they associate them with you too. And also that’s kind of a clean rep, the selfless man who adopted his employee’s son to not have him fall to the streets, how heartwarming. Not at all traumatising for the kid too I bet! But anyway now the lad is just the most charming young adult, mission accomplished. He’s always present at any reception, ready to work his people-pleasing magic, and then going back to a gigantic empty manor to wait for the next and curate the perfect vibes to meet the expectations of dad. On the plus side, he knows everyone, and those who don’t know him cannot wAIT to, he’s just got that aura ya know. People skills for miles, and the insider knowledge that comes with being the son of the CEO, all this hidden behind the personna of the fresh innocent bashful party lad. 

Dr.FEN (the pink guest)

Do not get mistaken by the title, he’s no doc, he will not diagnose you with anything, he just studied long enough to get the sexy title. Study in what? Haha. Nothing shady. Just toxicology. He’s a world reknown poison expert basically, that’s his main thing. Oh but don’t worry, of course studying substances that may kill people is only for finding out how to cure them from it of course. What brings him in this circle? Simple, Belyy may or may not have started to suffer some weird illness that no doctor has been able to find the source, let alone cure, of. Him and Dr.Fen had met previously on some event, cause some rich man also love flexing how smart they are and attending sciencey shit, and he was contacted as sort of a shot in the dark. The lad does know how to treat some things, maybe he can treat The Mysterious Unwellness, since no traditional doctor was able to. He knows science, he’s trustworthy, bam, you’re hired to work on My Case Exclusively. Thanks to this, Dr.Fen has access to the whole health history of Belyy and his family, to many mANY dangerous substances, and also has The Respect of the hoes at the party. He HAS a doctorate after all. Epitome of knowledge. And he’s a kind to people and he wears pink like dang how can you nOT pour your wHOLE trust in him. 

Sir MOREVITCH (the blue guest)

Youngest son of an affluent family, who used to be close the the Belyys. The two families fell slightly appart after the death of the previous head of the family on the Belyy side, as they do nOT vibe with the current one (well current, til the first night of the story ig). But, unbeknownst to all, one strong link had been kept, between the youngest of the Morevitch, who dislikes his family and wishes to emancipate himself from them while also assuring his depart will not throw him basically in the streets, and our beloved Sir Belyy, who also dislikes the Morevitches but loves to see the rebellious energy of the young one (and ya know, my enemy’s enemy’s my friend or however you say that). So Belyy’s basically offering tips and helping Morevitch plant himself safely out of his family’s grasp, but it’s all taking quite some time isn’t it, slow and steady is fine until your parents try to arrange a wedding to secure more political power, and suddenly it is all quite urgent that you escape that situation because No Thank You Parents I Do Not Want A Wife I’m Too Young And Also Huh <3 Stuff You Won’t Like Hearing For Sure <3. The people who know they’re working together also know that it’s a big point of argument between them, the difference in vision between “you have to go slow and steady to be safe” and “I have very limited time to get to that safety anyway so I gotta risk it” “hell no you cant i can’t follow through if we’re going that quick that’ll put me at risk and you’re family’s gonna send gunmen to take me down”. A mess, it’d be much quicker to just obtain a few million bucks out of nowhere and bolt for sure...

Mr.GANG (the orange guest)

Morevitch’s trusted assistant. He hears the concerns, he helps the secret businesses, he lies to the parents about the whereabouts, and mostly, he’s basically a budget spy. The lad got that talent where people just don’t notice him popping behind them and catching all their dirty laundry as they confess it to someone they trust, and he always manages to break into places, get the intel he was looking for, and escape, putting everything back into place as if no one was ever there (wonder where he got all those skills from damn!). But what he’s even better at is being sneaky not only to benefit his boss, but himself as well <3. If he can catch all the info in the world, go any places, nothing’s stopping him from playing double agent and also going behind Morevitch’s back. After all the assistant life isn’t the most glamourous and rewarding, who can blame him from going and using his talents to build his own little exit route, right? Everybody sort of knows he cannot be trusted, but also no one managed to really incriminate or stop him, and as much as he has tea on many people, no has it on him, but bet once found that would be heeeella juicy.

M.MOUTARDE (the yellow guest)(this one is straight up the name of the yellow player in the french edition of clue too when i say its my main vibe)

Moutarde was an influential celebrity. He had a big break acting in a movie that the whole country stanned so hard they basically turned the script into their national anthem (they would have if it was a true democracy where the people really decide), he was so handsome and elegant, everyone’s dream husband. And then the fame fiddled out because it’s how fame is, one moment you’re the sexiest dish on the table and the next someone brings in dessert and baam, its all about that fresh cake, and no one pays any mind to your delightful aroma anymore, you’ve gone cold, they had a bite, their interest is somewhere else. Belyy really admires his work though, and mostly finds his image fits with the brand of his company, therefore the two are working on a collaboration to make Moutarde a representative. This WOULD boost Moutarde’s reputation, for his ads would be displayed on every imaginable surface of the country, and it would also benefit the company cause being represented by thAT sexy motherfucker? clearly that’s a deal. The freshness of the partnership means Moutarde is a newcomer in the guests, a fresh face, with no reputation, no relationships, no unfair biases against him. He’s just the new handsome charismatic lad with a squeaky clean image. Emphasis on “image”. After all, no one really knows anything of his background, right?

Kun.LAWENDER (the purple guest)

Private investigator, very useful to be around at a party it’s almost like it was expected there’d be a body to investigate, he’s a very close associate of Belyy, as there’s nothing more important to business than investigating the rivals and finding dirt on them to make them fall through infamy. He’s not exactly the PI who goes look for justice to be served, he’s just here for cash bro. He’s got intel on everyone, and will only let it out if offered the right thing in return (money, or sometimes other pieces of very secret intel, trade is good). Wouldn’t advise letting him and Gang team up tbh but they probably wouldnt, as Lawender is really more of a lone wolf player, going on his own for himself. The one thing that negates his usefulness as a PI on an accidental crime of scene is that even if he knew the whole truth of the event he would not spit it out unless he benefitted from saying it. He sure is a polarising lad, but at the same time, an untouchable one, he’s too knowledgeable to be taken down. Rather than sneaky, he’s extremely observant, noticing the tiniest details and engraving them in his memory, ready to be linked up to other details to deduct the big picture. He’s the upfront tea gathered basically (as opposed to Gang’s shadow tea gathering if you will, they are similar forces but using opposite methods)(also one of em got a licence n the other does not hAH).

~~~~

Now the secrets, all of em have them. One of em at least got the secret of having KILLED Belyy that’s that. But that’s to be kept for later (for if i ever use this story for more than daydream material gfhjgh) bet you can imagine what some of em may be just out of Knowing what i do, from having seen the characters in other contexts, or just because you’re a genius and reading the character profiles immediatly lit up the bulbs in your head forming the perfect theory, props to you, mad genius.

Honestly my thoughts are just how lit of a game that would be, you get to pick one hoe (maybe sum are locked til u find their secrets for juicy purposes) and you do your invetigation using your character’s perks and disadvantages, and maybe there could even be Multiple scenarios and outcomes, to spice it up, give replay value, i just think it’d be a game id spend hours on. tryin to get the spicy details of everyone’s life. walking around n digging through a rich man’s stuff, witnessing the drAMA of people fighting cause they’re locked in with a murderer and that’s stressful ngl. That or a long ass show @ netflix wanna give me a show maybe? give me hella budget we’re making it animated cause im too cultured for live action. 

whatever i make of it though, i hope i can make this story Flourish, just so that i can lay down all those secret backstories i’ve written. i want the satisfaction of throwing out the craziest secret drama between character n seeing peeps loose their minds, it just is a tasty experience.

also i gotta say, i plug the hell out of Clue for an inspo but when i was building the basics of the story my mind immediatly went “oH MY GOD THE VIBES,, THE BACKSTABBING AND tEAMING UP and all,,, its The Genius, that one tv show where peeps have to do the wildest games that require strategy n they’re in that fancy set that looks like a rich ppl mansion oh god the vibes” so yeah, i rewatched the whole first two seasons cause they’re my faves and that had an impact if only minimal in the aesthetic.

Anyway hope that quick presentation gave you a lil taste of the story, and maybe,,,, got you curious,,, craving to learn more like you never did before (im exaggerating the only real question we all got is just “so who’s fuckin with whom then how many of yall secretly dating” this the real deal)

[jimlingss]

His Name [3]

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 Words: 6.6k Genre: Angst, Multiple Personality!Au Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him. → Inspired by the Korean Drama - Kill Me Heal Me Warnings: Topics of mental health, mentions of death and medical disorders. Disclaimer: Although this piece of work required lots of in-depth research and was attempted to be as accurate as possible, at the end of the day, I am not a psychologist and this is fanfiction. Specific things may be altered or exaggerated for story-telling purposes. Please take all medical terminologies and procedures with a grain of salt. 

The memories haven’t all but disappeared.

They’re covered, somewhere in the depths of his most vulnerable mind - for reasons you don’t know. It’s a puzzle with thousands of missing pieces but Jungkook is slowly being able to assemble some corners together; a mural gradually becoming tangible.

“I’ve been thinking…” His clammy hands rub together. “And I think I can remember….something.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

His lids flutter shut, a scrunch between his brows as he dives into the vague images. “My mother. It’s my fifth birthday. And I’m outside in the backyard. There are some balloons tied to the fence. I’m throwing one up into the air. It’s blue and really pretty against the sky, floating and drifting slowly. I remember just staring at it before my mother brings out the cake. She smiles at me and then someone...someone….calls my name.”

                                                                       “Jungkook!”

“ I...I don’t kno- ugh.” He opens his eyes again, clutching his head within his hands as it throbs. “I don’t know. It was someone...someone important to me. They’re important...really important..”

“Jungkook.” You call him in a firm voice and he sits back up, looking into your orbs. You smile warmly at him. “It’s okay. That’s a lot of improvement! You’re doing a very good job. This takes a lot of time but you’re already starting to remember things.” He nods, lips upturning at your praise. “Can you tell me more about your mom? Do you remember anything specific about her?”

“She used to...she used to garden and paint…?” His eyes shine brighter, voice holding more conviction as he begins to remember again. “My mother really loved to paint.”

You can see the spark of interest light in his eyes, a smile growing at his lips. “Do you paint Jungkook?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t paint...anymore. I used to draw a lot. I do still love art though.”

“Why didn’t you continue with it?”

His eyes flicker to the floor before meeting yours, anguish laced in his features. “My father disapproved of it.”

He shrugs and you sense his discomfort, a desire to move onto a different topic.

You ask a few questions on what it was like to live with his grandparents, the time he spent at the boarding school and what it was like when he came back. From his answers, it seems like he loved his grandparents dearly. Despite being left there by his father, you observe how detached Jungkook is when he speaks about him; their father-son relationship doesn’t appear to be stable.

Jungkook tells you about the three years spent at the boarding school. At the beginning, he was outcasted by the other students - largely due to his withdrawn nature. But, towards the end of his first year, he became well acquainted with a few other students and became a teacher favourite. Unfortunately, all his friends were merely skin deep and he never got too close to them.

These were the years that he began to have missing memories, appearing in places that he never remembered going to, conversations he apparently had with others but didn’t. Jungkook can’t pinpoint the exact time but these were the years that he developed his disorder.

“What’s it like to work at your father’s company?”

“It’s fine.” He responds. “It’s work.”

“Do you interact with your father a lot?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. He gives me things to do sometimes - projects, meetings, clients. I might see him around but other than that, no. We don’t talk to each other.”

He had told you that the years of coming back home and going through university were all a blur. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything important. He felt like an outsider in his own home. His step-mother, though never went out of her way to harm him, never went out of her way to make him feel welcome either. The friends he made while studying were calculated moves told by his father, relationships he could build to solidify the company’s position. They were never genuine. He was never genuine.

His disorder became worse and worse as time went on. The blackouts became more frequent, lasting a longer time. People began to notice and with so many missed classes, he had to put in hard effort to graduate on time. He couldn’t even keep his own head on his shoulders, nevermind creating and sustaining friendships or relationships.

“How often do you feel high strung when you’re working?”

Jungkook frowns and then shrugs. “Often…?”

You nod, taking note that if the opportunity arises, you should observe his behaviour in the workplace.

Evaluation Report #2 Patient: Jeon Jungkook Diagnosis: Dissociative Identity Disorder -Patient generally switches when experiencing panic, anxiety and/or a loss of control. -As observed, the patient's most effective method to return to a normal state is through close proximity, physical touch and/or affection. -Building a strong relationship between clinician and patient is essential but boundaries must be set. Avoid physical contact if possible. Patient must learn how to regain control on his own in case no one is present during his switches. -Improving his control over his emotions is very crucial. -Based on observations, the patient has a tendency to cut off the outside world and stay indoors. It is recommended to increase time spent outside for the patient. -Uncovering the patient’s memories will most likely lead to the cause and root of his disorder. Further investigations are required.*

“Thank you so much for doing this.” You wipe some of your sweat, standing up straight.

“It’s…” Mr. Jinkey huffs out as he drags the bag of soil. “...no problem.” He dusts his hands together, steadying his breath. “You can call me anytime Miss Y/N. But can I ask you what this is all for?”

You smile, looking at the five bags of soil, the fertilizer and the new watering cans. “Just thought it would be nice to do some gardening.”

//

When you drag Jungkook outside, his expression tells you it’s anything but nice.

He’s frowning, mouth parted and eyes filled with disgust. He slows down in his steps, apprehension taking hold of his limbs. It’s as if you’re going to give him a math equation to solve.

“What...is this?”

You’re ingenious. Jungkook needed to develop more time to go outside and if he planted vegetables, it could help improve his diet. Gardening was also one of his mother’s hobbies. It might or might not uncover more of his childhood memories. It was worth a shot and you were killing three birds with one stone.

“Oh, c’mon. Lighten up, Kook.” You nudge him and he looks with wide eyes into the empty planter box. “Don’t you want to garden?”

“No.”

“Too bad.” You turn on your heel, grabbing the bag of soil. “You have no choice. Now go move it wherever you want it to be.”

From the corner of your eye, you catch his little pout and a smile wiggles up your lips.

Jungkook picks up the wooden, garden box and puts it underneath the window next to his stone patio. When he spots that you’re struggling with pulling the bag, he shifts your hands off. “Here.” He mutters before hoisting it up into his arms. “I don’t get why we have to do this…”

“Because it’s fun…and if we do it successfully, they’ll be tomatoes, peppers...carrots...” You follow him. “It can be our project.”

“Ours?” He questions and when you motion towards the rectangle, he dumps the contents out.

“Jin, one of your alters, usually takes care of the garden.”

“Oh….” Jungkook takes a look around as if never before noticing how well kept it is.

“But this will be our project. No one but me and you, Jungkook, will be able to touch this planter box. No strangers, no one familiar and not even your alters. Just me and you.”  

He frowns, thinking for a second as he tilts his head in skepticism. Jungkook looks to the ground as he walks back to take another bag of soil. As he returns, you notice a suppressed smile on his face; perhaps trying to conceal a huge grin.

You beam at him and he clears his throat. “Well...it’s not a horrible idea. I guess it sounds good.”

“Good.”

The both of you are kneeling in the grass, having poured in all the dirt and fertilizer to the top of the box. With a trowel in your hand, you’re digging tiny holes for him to drop the seeds in.

“You know…” He looks up past his sweaty bangs. “...I never realized how nice this garden is. Who did you say takes care of it?”

“Jin. Seokjin? He’s twenty years old. Cooks. Cleans. Tells bad puns.”

“Twenty years old?!” Jungkook’s mouth drops.

You let a giggle slip past your lips. “Yeah. Why?”

“I think he’s the one who keeps buying Mario plushies online. I thought he was ten or something.” He mumbles and you laugh again. “Sometimes I see sticky notes laying around the house and there's always a list of chores on them...or they’re telling me how messy the house is. I think they’re from him.”

“Sounds like it.” You catch Jungkook shaking his head. His smile disappears for a second before it grows even bigger. “What’s wrong?”

“No. I just heard in the back of my mind, a really loud ‘YAH!’.” He scrunches up his nose, dumping out the rest of the contents out of the seed packet into the last hole before you cover it up with the topsoil.

He’s beside you as you fill up the watering cans with the hose. “How do you feel about going outdoors, Jungkook?”

He hums. “It’s fine I guess.”

“Do you feel better?”

“I guess I do.” Jungkook looks around at the luscious green grass, plush like a carpet underneath his feet. His eyes flicker to the flower bushes before up at the cerulean canvas. “I should go outside more.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea.”

He mutters under his breath as he leans over to turn off the nozzle- “but I don’t have anyone to go-”

“I’ll go.” You pipe up and he looks back at you with wide eyes.

“Wha-”

“You’ll always have me.” You reassure him, standing up and handing him one of the two watering cans. “You’re not alone, Jungkook. You should remember that - you’re really not alone.”

Jungkook follows behind you with his lips upturned. When you turn around to steal a glance, he immediately looks away with a blank expression and when you face forward again, his smile returns.

“Did you ever do anything similar with your mother?”

He scours his brain and his memories. “I think so….I had a smaller watering can. It was yellow..with a huge star on it. But I remember getting yelled at for overwatering the plants...by someone...”

“Do you remember who it was?”

There’s a delay in his answer, a huff of defeat that barely comes out as a weak whisper- “no.”

“It’s okay. You’ll remember eventually.” You reassure him and he nods. The atmosphere becomes heavy with his frown and after watering the entire planter box, there’s still some water left in your can.

You slosh it around until your eyes twinkle with mischief and you look up at the concentrated boy. The moment you swing the handle back and a stream of water launches into the air, he smoothly dodges by stepping to the side.

“What. are. you. doing?!” He grins at your startled expression.

“How did you avoid that?”

“Try me.” His hand motions for you to come, pupils flashing with competitiveness.

“Oh it’s on.” You step forward, trying to splash him again but he giggles, running out the way and making the water soak into the grass. “You’re going to have to try harder than that!”

The both of you end up chasing each other around the backyard, trying to drench the other. Somehow, he gets the upper hand and manages to dump his entire can over your head. Your shirt becomes completely soaked and he falls to the ground in breathless giggles, clutching onto his stomach.

Not accepting defeat, you run off to the hose and you blast him with the hardest setting. You shoot mercilessly, opening fire until his clothes become so soaked that he might as well be in a laundry machine; his shirt becoming thin material and barely hanging off his shoulders and arms. Yet, as he screams and shrieks for you to stop in the midst of his laughter, ‘god Y/N! Stop!’, you pretend not to hear.

“Hmm?! What was that?!” You shout, moving the hose to spray his whole body length.

Even though the water is on the roughest setting, he runs up to you, slapping the hose out of your hands. A yelp leaves your lips as he takes the fabric of his shirt and slaps you with it like it’s a wet towel. Jungkook threatens to hug you, make you as drenched as he is but you duck away before he gets the chance.

Eventually, the two of you pass out in the plush grass, letting the beaming sun dry you off. Your chest is still heaving and when you take a peek beside you. He’s wearing the brightest of smiles.

You can’t remember the last time you’ve laughed so hard.

//

It happens the next day, one early morning.

You’re sipping on some hot coffee, filling out and finishing some documents. It’s then that a knock on the door shatters your concentration. Jungkook pops his head through the gap and nervously asks, while scratching the back of his neck, if you want to join him at his office.

It’s something you had mentioned that you wanted to do before. You’re aware that he often switches to his alters with the high stress environment there; you needed to observe him in those circumstances. Thus, you happily shut off your laptop and got ready.

“I’ve already told my secretary that you’re just an assistant.” Jungkook mutters to you, his face void of emotion and his voice more serious than you’ve ever heard. “Do you need anything or are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

You work in the corner of his office, looking up once in a while from your laptop to study him. It’s quiet for the most part except for the tapping of keyboards, flipping through stacks of paper and the breaks to sip on coffee. You muse how awfully lonely it is if he’s cooped up in his office all day for hours on end.

When he goes to a meeting, you sit in the back of the conference room, listening and watching. He easily gives the presentation, stuttering only a few times in front of the room and answering some questions. But at some point, you notice a difference. He becomes more confident and eloquent, responding with extensive knowledge and in pensive mannerisms.

“Jungkook?” You approach him after the meeting is finished and everyone is filtering out the room.

He looks up at you carefully but doesn’t reply, making you follow behind him as he walks off to his office. Once you close the door and he places the stack of sheets onto his desk, he clears his throat. “Unfortunately, I am not Jungkook.” He smiles, slight dimples creasing on each side of his cheek.

You shake his hand and he firmly nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Y/N. My name is Kim Namjoon.”

“It’s a..pleasure to meet you too.”

“I know you might have some questions for me but I’m swamped with work at the moment. I’ll make sure to devote time to you later if that’s alright with you.” He takes a seat and you slowly nod, caught off guard with how polite he is.

“Y-yes. That’s fine.”

“Great.” He clasps his hands together, looking at his monitor. As you make your way back to the coffee table in the corner, he speaks up. “Oh! I don’t know if Jungkook has mentioned this to you - I believe it might’ve slipped his mind - but there’s a business dinner later this evening. It’ll be with Jungkook’s father, stepmother and a few shareholders. I’m sorry that it might seem abrupt.”

“O-oh. No it’s perfectly fine. I’m okay with that.” You immediately look down to your attire. You’re in a plain white blouse and a black pencil skirt with heels - it’s the standard office outfit but it might be underdressed for a business dinner.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” He reaffirms in a strong voice. “You look perfectly fine.”

He’s looking down and shuffling through the files, preoccupied but also seemingly aware of your worries. “Thank you, Namjoon.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He murmurs out but a second later, he looks back at you. “Oh and one more thing. You should call me Jungkook around this office. We don’t want to let other people overhear and become confused. After all….” He downcasts his orbs, shoulders slumping for a mere heartbeat and a slight wash of sadness appears on his face. “I…”

He’s supposed to be Jungkook.

Despite taking care of almost all the work, Namjoon isn’t the one who can take the credit for it.

“I understand.” You interject before he can finish. He nods gratefully before returning.

//

Namjoon is prim and proper. He holds a regal aura, intimidating in a way that you wonder if he came from noble blood. Each time he speaks, you notice how he thinks carefully and in every action, he considers the consequences. Regardless of being eloquent in the way he presents himself, he’s rather clumsy. At some point, he knocks his pen holders down and you help him collect them from the floor. He spills coffee all over his desk. He bumps into the copier machine while walking out the office. He trips over his shoes before getting to the car.

And with each clumsy mistake, he always does a quick look around to see if anyone’s seen. When you bite down on your lip, trying to hold in a laugh, he sends a sheepish smile before clearing his throat and pretending it never happened.

“Here.” He opens your palm up, placing the car keys in your hand. “You drive.”

“Me?”

“I don’t know how to drive.” He admits with embarrassment. “It’s safer for humanity that way.”

You don’t need much more of an explanation after observing him the entire day.

You nod, letting him know that it’s nothing to be shameful about and he looks at you appreciatively before getting into the passenger seat. The two of you don’t chat with each other, Namjoon preoccupied on his phone and answering some business phone calls. When you arrive at the restaurant with his directions, he introduces you to the older men, keeping to your title as assistant.

Jungkook’s father arrives shortly after, scrutinizing the both of you with stone cold eyes. Jungkook’s stepmother is hugging onto his arm, nodding her head to you in acknowledgement and you suppose she knows the true nature of your relationship with the boy.

“-and so, I believe that the next project will gravely raise the position of our company in the market.”

Namjoon is sly. No one in their right mind wants to discuss work, business dinner or not. At the beginning, he inquired about the family and personal life of each shareholder; sharing interests in their newfound hobbies. Somehow and someway, before you’ve even realized it, he’s eased himself into pitching the next deal. He’s got you charmed with his words.

The old men laugh with their bellies full. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. You’ve got me in.”

Another nods. “I’m caught too.”

“Mr. Jeon, you have quite the son.”

The waiter swoops by, taking away your finished dish and you motion to them thankfully.

Mr. Jeon scoffs lightly, his wife swirling her wine in her glass by his side. “He’s not much...really. There’s more than meets the eye.”

“He seems like a very intelligent and bright boy.”

Jungkook’s father scrutinizes from the corner of his eye. He chuckles cruelly as he shakes his head. “He’s a good for nothing son. He’s always been and always will be a disappointment to me. I don’t think he’ll ever grow up. If he listened to me, if he trusted me, if he wasn’t so naive…maybe things wouldn’t had to happen the way they di-”

Namjoon’s hand suddenly slams onto the table, ricocheting off the walls. When you turn to him completely startled, you immediately recognize that it’s no longer him and he’s not Jungkook either.

“Are you done?” The voice drops a pitch lower, a growl in the back of his throat. His eyes are bitter cold.

It’s the nameless man.

The shareholders look on in surprise, Jungkook’s stepmother stops her glass mid-way from taking a sip but Jungkook’s father looks absolutely unfazed.

You notice the man’s jaw is clamped down, teeth grinding against each other and his fist is clenched in his lap. He glares at the older man brutally, ready to launch over the table and wrap his hands around the older’s neck. A pure form of hatred twists his features, made from a million resentments and miseries. “Isn’t that enou-”

You reach over discreetly under the table, placing your hand on top of his. From your warm touch, he immediately cranes his head to you. Your eyes are soft, lips turned meekly to comfort him. He eases. His shoulders relax, his jaw loosens and he returns your gaze. It’s a gaze of desperation, begging….asking you if you can try to understand him. His eyes speak more than you’re able to grasp. But before you can figure out why his expression is tangled with agony and grief, his eyes glisten over.

Jungkook’s eyes blink twice, three times but it’s still not Jungkook that returns.

“I’m so sorry for that.” Namjoon clears his throat. He flashes a perfect smile, settling everyone around the table and pacifying the tense atmosphere. “I always like to say that my father keeps me humble. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“We all need someone like that in our lives.” A suited man agrees, raising his glass for a sip.

“Oh please, Henry. You’re the last humble man on this entire planet.” Another banters with him and everyone laughs.

Despite the conversations flowing smoothly after that and there are no more swaps between the alters, there’s something in the way that Namjoon taps his foot that tells you he’s not calm in the least bit.

//

The sky is swirled with blue steel ink, half the moon hovering high and the stars unseen from the skyscraper lights and street lamps. It’s unfortunate that the twinkling far away glows can’t be observed in the city. But at the very least, it’s reached a point of night where there are few on the streets and few disturbances aside from an occasional car whizzing past. The air is crisp but warm, enough that you don’t have to regret merely wearing a white blouse and black skirt.

“Miss Y/N.” He stops you from walking off the curb of the pavement to the front seat of the car. “If it is alright with you, could we possibly take a short walk to the library? There’s a few books that I’m interested in and it hasn’t gotten too late yet. They’re a street down and still open.”

“Yes. It’s fine.” You nod. “And you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N. Y/N’s fine.”

The two of you walk side-by-side in serene quiet, a comfortable silence that can only be achieved with years of familiarity yet somehow resonates between the both of you. From his embarrassing antics earlier, Namjoon makes an effort to not trip, staring down at his feet and the pavement. But then he nearly drives himself into a telephone pole and a brick wall. Each time you shout or yank him back, he sheepishly thanks you.

“Here it is.” He beams, looking happier ever since the work day and business has been finished. He holds the door open for you and when you enter, Namjoon looks around the bookshelves like a child in a toy store.

“Do you like reading?”

“I do.” He sighs, closing up a book and reaching for another. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much of an opportunity to do so, with work and the others...you know.”

You follow him in each aisle. “There’s just so many interesting things. Fiction or nonfiction, there are countless stories to be told, ideas to be conveyed, knowledge that needs to be learnt...I think it’s amazing.”

“Me too.” He gleams at your response, dimples creasing his cheeks.

By the time the both of you are finished, he picks up one book and the both of you decide to take a short stroll at the adjacent park. There’s not many nearby, some old couples hand-in-hand and young ones laughing together, individuals that want to escape from the silence of their home or the bustling nightlife.

The bridge is luminous with fairy lights, reflecting off the still waters of the river. From where you’re walking, you can catch the skyline from the other side. The noise seems to drown, being so far away.

“How did you do it?”

“Hmm?” You turn to him in confusion and he sighs.

“You calmed him down. He usually would’ve hurt someone....severely. How did you do it?”

You immediately recognize who he’s talking about - the nameless man.

“You know who he is?” You stop in your tracks, eyes open wide. “What’s his name?”

Out of a million and one questions, that’s the one that spills your mouth first. But Namjoon simply shakes his head. “He wouldn’t appreciate me telling you. If you really want to know, Y/N, you should ask him yourself.”

“That’s-...can’t you just tell me?”

He smiles at your discreet pout. “No. And don’t you have a few questions to ask me? Now’s a good chance. I don’t know when I’ll be switched with another and I don’t know the next time I’ll see you.”

“Okay.” You don’t miss his expression of melancholy as the both of you settle down at the wooden bench. “How old ar-”

“My name is Kim Namjoon. I am eighteen years old and I am the personality that was created from Jungkook’s time in boarding school. I am the alter that appears when he has to conduct business.” He cuts to the chase with a sad smile.

“Wait. You’re only eighteen?”

“Yes.”

“You’re extremely mature. I thought you would be at least twenty five or thirty.”

He smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. “Knowledge doesn’t necessarily correlate to age. I have a lot to work on and I still make dumb mistakes from time to time. But I try my best.”

“Namjoon, what did you mean when you said you said that you were created from Jungkook’s time in boarding school?” You inquire, staring at his profile. He inhales a breath, sitting up straight and leaning into the bench.

“It was a...strict school to say the least.” He steals a glance from you, a gentle uplift of his lips. “It was a school for troubled rich kids and they really whip you into shape. Jungkook had a hard time, so, I came along.”

“If he messed up back then, he would’ve been sent home - that was something he was extremely afraid of.”

You frown. “Jungkook was afraid of returning home? Why?”

“Well...you probably already noticed but his relationship with his father isn’t the greatest.” He eases you with another tiny smile. “I can’t really say anymore than that. It’s not my place.”

You nod, grasping a clear understanding of what he’s willing and not willing to talk about. “Don’t you consider yourself an entirely separate person from Jungkook? Why did you say you were only a personality of his?”

“Because that’s what I am to you.” He exhales wistfully, flickering his orbs up to the moon. “You consider me, us, merely alters of Jungkook’s personality. And you’re not wrong. It doesn’t make scientific sense otherwise; for a bunch of people to be inside of him. It’s his disorder that you’re trying to cure, why would I expect you to consider anything else? It doesn’t matter what I feel. Even if I felt like I was my own person. Even if I feel like the person ‘Namjoon’ and not ‘Jungkook’. None of that matters; to you or to this world.”

Your mouth fills with cotton, unable to answer. You have nothing to refute with. It’s not like you would anyways - you don’t want to lie.

“I’m not just trying to help Jungkook. I want to help all of you.”

“I know.” His irises crinkle sincerely, a bare whisper that leaves his lips. “I know. That’s why all of us have accepted you so easily. Not only for ourselves but we care for Jungkook. We want to see him happy.”

You gaze at the man, the slope of his nose and roundness of his cheeks; it is Jungkook’s exterior but for a flicker of a moment, you can almost see someone else, someone completely different.

“With that being said..” He begins again, staring out at the city skyline and the sparkling lights. “Would it really benefit Jungkook or anyone if he remembered?”

“What do you mean?”

“The memories that you’re trying to bring back.” He sighs. “There’s a reason he forgot. There’s a reason why they’re repressed in his mind. He was hurt, Y/N.”

“By what? What was he hurt by, Namjoon?” You lean forward, probing deep with your words but he simply shakes his head. “Why was he hurt? Do you know?”

“I can’t tell you.” He tears his gaze away from yours. “It’s not my place. Would it even do any good to remember again?”

“He has to.” You press on. “It’s the only way we can fight against his…-”

You stop short, biting your lips back and he chuckles quietly. “The only way to fight against this disorder.” Namjoon speaks slowly, emphasizing each word as if it’s a knife digging deeper into his skin. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Despite Namjoon smiling, you can see the disappointment wash over.

In his mind, he thought maybe you’d be able to understand. He, the others, all of this wasn’t merely a disorder - at least in their minds. They felt real. They experienced real emotions; anger, hatred, sadness, happiness, love. But somehow they shared one body, one skin. And even to the last moment, you still thought of him purely as a personality, as an alter.

Not separate individuals.

“Namjoon. I’m sorr-”

“It’s okay. More than anyone…” He stands up with his book, lifting out his hand and when you grab onto it, he hoists you up with a smile. Two dimples, each dot the side of his cheeks but it’s all too twisted with heartache. “...I understand.”

It’s a Sunday afternoon. The office is abandoned, laptop shut and the pages of the open binder fall to the wooden floorboards from the draft of the window. Dusk light is still hours away, sunshine yellow and piercing through the enormous glass windows.

You’ve set your work aside, pulling out your mother’s old recipe book and digging around for your apron. It was still a long time before dinner but you knew you would have to get started early - always getting delayed from the messes you create when you step into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time you cooked or made an entire homemade meal but strangely, flashbacks of over boiled pasta and ash burnt meat come to mind.

“Cabbage first.”

Oddly enough, things go pretty smoothly - aside from the fact that you nearly sliced open your hand with the knife. The water is boiling, vegetables are left steaming, the meat on the pan is sizzling and you’re starting to set the table. Cooking takes your utmost concentration and focus, multitasking and rushing from place to place. You’re not sure why you’re trying so hard, it’s not like Jungkook is a professional chef that you’re attempting to impress; nonetheless, you’re meticulous with every single dish.

“What are you doing?”

A voice interrupts and you swivel around with a grin. “Jungkook! You came right in time. Take a seat.”

His frown softens but he’s still dumbfounded, confused as he slowly drags the chair from under the table out. He plops down, eyes on the numerous piping dishes in front of him.

“Wha-”

“Aren’t you hungry?” You set down his bowl of rice, pulling out your own chair to sit down in. “Time to dig in.”

Jungkook watches as you scoop a spoonful into your mouth, scrunching up your nose when you bite into the hot egg roll. “What are you looking at me for?” You scold him, motioning your utensil to his chest. “Are you not going to eat?”

He complies, downcasting his head and pouting his lips. He reminds you of a kindergartener, a lost boy with too many doubts in his head. You can’t help but let a smile slip.

“Did you do this for me?” He takes a tiny bite, glancing up at you past his lashes.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” You grin when he sighs at your vague answer. You tease him, “Is it too salty for your tastes?”  

“It’s fine.” He retorts back. “Good. Better.”

You watch him fondly. “Jungkook, when was the last time you had a meal with someone?”

He doesn’t respond for a long while, looking downwards as he takes another bite-

“Decades.”

The both of you sit in silence. Jungkook ingests it quickly, biting and chewing with full cheeks. He might even choke with the pace that he’s eating at. Yet, he keeps his eyes facing downwards, soundless and expression blank. But you notice.

From the glances that you steal, you catch the shimmering of his orbs. His nose grows red, cheeks flushed and every sniffle that he takes tells you he’s trying hard to restrain his emotions. Each time it becomes difficult to swallow with the lump in his throat, he takes spoonfuls of the soup. And when a tear finally falls onto the white table, he quickly wipes it away before you see, without knowing - you’ve already seen.

“How is it?” You keep your lips in a straight line, blinking at him kindly. “Delicious?”

He lets out a croaked “yeah”.

“What’s your favourite food, Jungkook? I’ll make it next time.”

“Next time?”

“Next time.” You reassure with a firm voice. There will be a next time. There will be countless times.

“Lamb skewers.” He says with a small upturn of his mouth. “It’s lamb skewers.”

You hum. “Doesn’t sound too hard.”

“Y/N.” He calls your name quietly and you meet his dark pupils. “Thank you.”  

It was only one meal that you set aside time to make. But with him sitting across from you, his lips trembling with emotion - you already know that the small action means so much to him. His whisper whirls around the night, barely a murmur past your ears. It’s enlaced with genuine sincerity, making your chest swell from within.

It’s not suppose to be this intimate. Though somehow it is.

“Thank you.”

//

Jungkook insisted on cleaning up for you. He was strongly adamant about it, gathering up everything silently and making his way to the sink. You sighed, lingering around for a moment until you suddenly remembered that you had to finish a few things that you had set aside earlier. He told you to go do whatever you needed to do and you couldn’t argue.

Standing alone in the kitchen, it occurred to Jungkook that he needed, no, he wanted to do something more for you. To him, a simple ‘thank you’ wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to express how much it actually meant. He wanted to do something, anything; ask if you wanted or needed things, maybe if you wanted to go somewhere with him...maybe if you wanted to catch a movie...go have dessert.

Each step that Jungkook takes up the stairs is heavy and cautious. He doesn’t know why he feels so anxious or nervous in his own home. It’s you. You would never intentionally hurt him - that’s what he believes - and the worst that could happen was a simple rejection, a ‘no’. It wasn’t the end of the world. He could handle it. All he needed was to ask one question: if you wanted to go with him. It isn’t difficult. One question.

Jungkook dawdles outside your door, twisting the brass knob in his hand but he stops short. The moment it cracks open and a beam of light pierces into the dark hallway, a soft piano melody streams from your laptop and into his ears. He staggers.

His heart accelerates.  

His breath freezes.

                                                                                 “Jungkook!”

              “What are you doing?”

                                             “Come sit down!”

                                                                           “The food’s getting cold.”

A film plays beneath his eyelids, snapshots of vague images. Colour does not exist, black and white screens blurred to a point where he can’t make out the faces. The edges of the scene are curled together, sepia and burnt. Fuzzy. Clouded. There’s a table. Dark silhouettes. His mother. His father.

                             “My favourite’s lamb skewers. Here. Try some.”

                                                      A strange boy with ebony locks next to him.

Jungkook screams. An invisible hand wraps around his throat, choking him as he desperate gasps for breath. He can’t breathe and his eyes flash, morphing into tunnel vision. Suddenly you’re in front of him, the door crashing against the wall. Your lips move but he can’t hear; his heartbeat pounds loud within his eardrums, sirens blaring in his head. His chest constricts, a wave of panic drowning him like a tsunami. He is shaking and numb, leaning against the doorway as the world swirls into a mosaic of colours.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is miles away, a shout into the oblivion.

“Jungkook!”

But he picks up on the distant echo.

“Jungkook.”

“You’re not going to die. You’re not alone.”

“I’m here.”

Warm arms wrap around his waist, his back patted gently like a lover’s embrace. He is tugged back into reality, reminded that you’re beside him - that he’s not alone. His heaving chest becomes calm underneath your touch, deep inhales that make the palpitation of his heart return to normal thump, thump, thumps. Jungkook’s sight returns and he desperately searches for your eyes. When he finds them, they are tender and soft, comforting and more than a million spoken words.

After you ask him if he’s okay, to which he responds with a weak nod, you bring him into his bedroom. He’s placed on his mattress, covers tucked up to his chin. He wants nothing more than for you to crawl beside him but he can’t ask; not when you’ve already murmured a few words that shot past his ear and the door is closed shut.

As Jungkook stares at his ceiling, being consumed by the darkness of the night, he’s reminded of one thing.

In what world could he have ever asked you?

It was one simple question: “do you want to go out?”. He would’ve blushed, stuttered, stumbled. “I mean...for dessert or a movie.”. Perhaps you would’ve said ‘yes’, maybe ‘no’. But now he can never know your answer.

He couldn’t even walk into your room.

He couldn’t even step into the light.

He’s frustrated and reminded that he’s utterly b r o k e n.

That night Jungkook dreams of a boy’s face that he cannot see.

[fidelishaereticus]

I was tagged by @legolasgoldy :D

Rules are the standard answer questions and tag 10 blogs you wish to know more about!

Age: o u kno, somewhere between 20 and 2000. it fluctuates.

Born: December 11th

Current time: 14:18

Last drink: keemun tea or water.

Easiest person to talk to: @thisbackworld 

Favorite song: ????? i do not comprehend this question i love way too many music. To pick a random song from my like top 40 or whatever (all tied) Slowly Comes My Night by Deine Lakaien marked an important turning point in my appreciation of music and i dearly love it.

Grossest memory: o fuck um,. a pizza. a pizza that was awful,,,,just.,,bad smells bad texture bad eveyrthing, but i thought i had to at least try to eat it, i was like. 8. i stopped eating it and walked away but the grossness lingered, haunted me, morphed a horrible nausea monster that c o n s u m e d my thought and being. i couldn’t bear the thought of food for the rest of the day. i have no idea why this was so awful but. it’s at least ONE OF my grossest memories.

Horror yes or horror no? yeeeeeeeeeeeee though, there must be sthg else interesting going on alongside the horror. I like horror as an addition to a great character dynamic or a setting or a conceptually fascinating topic. also, in addition to enjoying physical horror, i HERE for conceptual/existential horror (my brain cranks that shit out on a daily basis but i cope with it through explorations in literature/art/etc)

In love: YEes. well. im either in love or i’m depressed. whenever i’m in a good mood i’m in love with something or someone. its what make life worth living

Jealous of people? nope. with the caveat that i draw a HUGE distinction between envy and jealousy. To me, jealousy is “being possessive of the Good Things that one enjoys or possess,” perhaps even being paranoid that others will take them away. Jealousy is Feanor. In this sense, I don’t have a jealous bone in my body. So long as I can still enjoy the Good Thing, i’m more than happy to share. I want everyone to have the Good Things!!! Envy, on the other hand. I can not abide watching other people enjoy certain Good Things that are denied me. I’m absolutely horrible about this.

Ke$ha: her music is great fun, though it’s not the kind of thing i would usually  listen to on my own. she seems like a cool person tho

Love at first sight or should I walk by again: Not quite sure what this question is asking but in general, walk by again---and maybe show me something cool? Something you made? Idk, the human body, stripped of imagination, is not attractive to me. And in general i fall harder if my aesthetics are challenged and stretched rather than instantaneously catered to.

Middle name: Danger. >B)

Number of siblings: one, sister

One wish: uh,...*sweats*.,, I’m guessing that “omniscience” and  “omnipotence” are Right Out? More realistically, i just want the climate change apocalypse to stop. i want amurica run no dun dun to stop. I also want the facts of existence not to suck. i want to not have to watch my body and the bodies of my friends fall apart in slow motion while the world burns. haha none of this is realistic i don’t ever wish for anything realistic 

Person you called last: My dad

Question you’re always asked: uhhh....no idea.

Reason to smile:  MY KITTERS, MY FREENNSS, MUSHROOMS, THE SEAAA, and also the fact that a few people like my nascent stories

Time you woke up: 7am 

Underwear color: well if i had my way they’d all be deep prussian blue or ultramarine (or skintone, cuz some clothes require that) but instead they’re a v dumb fuchsia, bc thats what came in the Affordable Bag that was in my size, alas fund to buy fidelis fuckable!blue panties. no lace, just sexy color.

Vacation destination: i thought this said vaccination destination and had to stare at it for a good long moment there like ‘oh did i get the flu shot yet?’ um. aside from the olympic peninsula and mt rainier, which are just a few hrs drive away, uh,., boston, so i can visit my friends. thats all i want. but i cant because Money :/

Worst habit: lol im with you @legolasgoldy​ overapologizing is DEFINITELy one of my most annoying habits. Additionally i have a lot of chaotic/self-destructive/negligent tendencies that eventually pile up until i can’t contain the mess they’re causing anymore and then they effect other people & thats.....bad.

X-rays: ....*nods*....nice. looking at bones is cool. 

Favorite food: i don’t have favourites but uh.. FISH EVERY DAY 3X A DAY FRESH FROM SEA (i love raw salmon). 

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius. i don’t really believe this means anything but if you do that’s cool too

Tagging: imm....not tagging, buit if you see this consider yourself tagged!! EVERYBODY IS TAGGED. NOBODY IS TAGGED. 

[survivingthejungle]

Never Fade Away, part v

BEFORE WE BEGIN: some thoughts.

-im really stressing out bc we’re scheduling classes fr next year and i decided to take ap spanish a year earlier than i was planning n now i CANT TAKE ART MY FAVORITE CLASS WITH MY FAVORITE TEACHER AND FAVORITE ENVIRONMENT n i’ve got a feeling i’m going to fail it but its oaky i guess u kno wat ever

-my hair is hella soft and shiny rn its RL noice thx u morrocan argan oil conditioner

-my writing is getting shittier and shittier i apologize u guys deserve better. hOWever if you’ve got something in mind for me to write hit me up bc im on a block rn with this other request i’ve had for a while now and i need to get dat creativity flowin

-a terrible boy who aint worth my time is once again ruining my life, please send help i cant keep forgiving him and being the one who ends up apologizing when ive done nothing wrong ugh fuck me

-enjoy por favor

It turned out that the event that Jerome had been so looking forward to was a charity ball for Gotham’s Children’s Hospital. About three hours before it was scheduled to begin, you were once again handed over to Barbara and Tabitha to be dolled up again. “Make sure she looks perfect,” Jerome instructed, “But not like she stands out or anything. Can’t have those GCPD bozos trying to take her away from me.” The two women voiced their understanding and kicked him out of the room, but not before he winked at you as you sat on the other side. You were sitting in the same spot you had been in the first time the two women had used you as a life-sized barbie doll. Once they got started, the entire event of getting you ready for the gala went by in a flash. Barbara did your makeup again, however this time it was much less natural-looking. Your eyeshadow was a dark pink to light pink fade, and your cheekbones were lightly contoured. Tabitha was doing your hair again as well, instead this time she kept your hair down; from what you could see in the mirror she was going for a wavy style. The dress hanging on the closet door across the room was crushed pink velvet with spaghetti straps, straight, and ball gown length. Once your face and hair was to their liking, they had you put the dress on behind a divider.

“Hang on,” Barbara said, rummaging through a drawer on the other side of the divider. She handed you something over the top; when you took it you saw it was a black choker. “Wear that. I’ll get ginger in here so we can go.”

Seconds later, she reentered the room with Jerome, whose eyes were being covered by Barbara’s hand. You’d already stepped out from the divider. She let her hand fall and his eyes landed immediately on you. “Wow,” he said in a low voice, “You look absolutely stunning, babygirl. Spectacular.“

“Thank you,” you whispered. He walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He was considerably taller than you, even despite the fact that Barbara and Tabitha had given you a pair of strappy, matte, black heels.

“We can have so much fun when we get back.” He shot his signature evil grin at you, before leading you out the door. ‘Absolutely not,’ you thought to yourself. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’ The car ride to the event was relatively civil. You didn’t talk, which wasn’t unusual, and as much as you pushed yourself into the car door to keep distance, Jerome still managed to keep a hand on your leg the whole time. You couldn’t let it distract you, however. You were too busy formulating an escape plan in your head. ‘How will I get away from them all? Do I go straight to the police right after, do I lay low for a while instead?’

The events of the night must’ve been entertaining, you were sure, but you were too busy looking around every two seconds in search of an escape route. While Jerome and Barbera were preparing their act backstage, you were kept by Tabitha’s side the whole time. The only thing keeping you from running at every chance was the expertly hidden pocket knife she kept at your side all night. You kept silently praying someone in the crowd would recognize you and say something, but then, what would that’ve meant for the knife at your side? Escaping wasn’t going to be easy, but you would be damned if you knew you had let the opportunity for freedom pass because of a piece of metal with a point. Before the show started, Tabitha had dragged you along with her to a dark corner in an unoccupied hallway. She stood facing you and moved the pocketknife away. “Listen,” she started, “I don’t want to have to keep you locked up after tonight. Theo has something planned tonight, and I want to help you get away when it’s all over.”

Your jaw just about dropped to the floor. You were dumbstruck! “I- I don’t understand…” you stammered.

“Look, just- just hear me out.” You nodded. “If I let you escape, you have to promise you won’t tell the cops about the rest of us. Just tell them that when Jerome had you, he was alone. No accomplices. No roommates. None of us. Just him. The police tells the news what you told them, and you’ll be fine. Theo won’t try to come after you if he thinks you got him off the hook. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’re a good kid, (y/n). You deserve to move past all this. You didn’t deserve any of it. So can I trust you not to run your mouth?”

“Of course. Thank you, Tabitha.” You meant it. You had no hard feelings towards her, or even Barbara for that matter. They were nice to you the whole time, what’s the difference if they were both a little whack? They weren’t the ones who kidnapped you or held you hostage. Tabitha was literally helping you escape. You would always be grateful for that.

She smiled. “I still have to keep this on you though,” she motioned to the knife. “For the sake of convincing Theo I’m not planning anything.” You could understand that. Once you reached your table. You did your best to hide your face from the rest of the crowd. You didn’t want someone spotting you now and ruining your whole plan, that would just end badly.

The events of the night flew by, up until when Jerome highjacked the magician’s bit and started killing people. Some in the crowd had escaped, but the majority of them, like you, were not as fortunate. Then, of course, there were the bits where GCPD detective, Jim Gordon, tried to intervene (if only for a minute or so), and when Jerome tried to kill Bruce Wayne, but none of that was as shocking as what happened next.

Theo Galavan, his mentor and leader, betrayed his trust and murdered him on the stage. You couldn’t help but react a bit shocked- despite what he had put you through, a stab to the throat seemed to be a very unleasant way to go. As soon as the knife was lodged in his neck and Barbara had escaped, everyone at the gala immediately fled, seemingly afraid that something worse was coming if they stayed there any longer. Tabitha did her best to guide you away from Theo’s view, pushing you into the crowd so you could blend in. You turned around and your sight of her was lost; maybe in order to help you gain some escape time against her brother.

When the cool, refreshing night air hit your face, you cried. You immediately started searching for the police when a strong hand came down on your shoulder. Your head snapped around to find the source, and you found yourself in front of a man wearing a GCPD badge. “Oh my God. (y/n) (y/ln)?” The man asked you.

As much as you had been crying before, you were full out sobbing now. “Yes,” you choked out, nodding your head. You weren’t sure how to respond to the situation at hand. Your captor was dead, you were free, standing next to one of the only people who had any control over the madness of that God-forsaken city, and you were alive. You barely knew what to say next, so you said the first thing you thought of. “I wanna go home,” you cried.

The ride back to the GCPD precinct was quiet, but you didn’t mind. The detective, who actually ended up being the infamous Jim Gordon, had given you a blanket before putting you in the car and calling your family to let them know that you’d been found, and you were alive and unharmed. Before being allowed to go back home, you had to be taken in to give an official statement. When you arrived, you had been given a change of clothes- a t-shirt and some sweatpants- and a big mug of coffee, your blanket still hanging around your shoulders. You were sat down on the other side of Gordon’s desk when the official recording started. “Just say what happened.”

“Um, well Jerome, he- I was walking home from school on the day that I was taken and he kidnapped me then- it was just him, I never saw anyone else. And he kept me locked up-he never did anything to me, just talked, but I think he must’ve had an obsession.”

Gordon interrupted. “Why do you say that?”

“He- he always kept talking about how he thought I was ‘his’ like he- like he owned me, or something… he liked pet names a lot. And then tonight, he brought me to the gala, he said he wanted to ‘show me off’, or something dumb like that. The only reason I didn’t run during was because he said if I tried anything, he’d kill my family, that he had them tied up somewhere. So I stayed where I was until that man killed him. Then I ran.”

He switched off the tape recorder. “Thanks for cooperating. Your family is on their way.” He stood up to go finish his work. “And, (y/n)-” he stopped to face you. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. You seem like a good kid. You didn’t deserve any of that. I'll have one of the guys escort you and your family home. And-... I'd recommend group therapy... or something like that. To help you cope.”

“Thank you. For everything. And... I'm sure my parents will be on board with that. ”

The reunion with your family was full of tears and hugs. Your parents had bags under their eyes, they looked like that hadn’t slept in weeks. You embraced each other in the steps of the precinct, falling to your knees. You couldn't tell how long you all had been like that, but eventually you were led back to your home by one of the officers. The night was indescribably emotional and full of tears.

Your story was on the news for a week or so, and afterwards, it faded into the background. The only reason it was such a popular story was because of the fact that Jerome was involved. There were hundreds of kidnappings every week in Gotham, and most of them went unnoticed by the media. But they had a field day with you. Apparently during his raid of the GCPD, he mentioned how he was the one who had taken you, and that's why the police were in such a hurry to find you.

Your parents signed you into a hospital 3 weeks later. You had been mostly back to normal since you had been recovered, so they weren't expecting your sudden mental breakdown at all. The full weight of your trauma hadn't hit until then, and then suddenly it came crashing all at once. It started with you having random outbursts or crying here and there, but then your handle over the situation deteriorated. Next, you stopped eating. You couldn't risk it without being sick. Then, you stopped leaving your room. This went on for a few weeks until one day, you passed out on the stairs.

You had never really been a depressed kid before, so this was alarming to your family. Your time spent in theater had molded you into an extroverted, generally happy, and energetic person. When the light disappeared from your eyes and smile and were replaced by hollow, sunken cheeks and dark circles around your eyes, you all knew something was wrong. The doctors diagnosed PTSD and recommended 2 weeks in the hospital for your recovery.

You had lots of visitors, and that made you happy, but you could no longer express that happiness. You were put on mild medication, which helped, and you started feeling better as time went by. Most of your visitors were friends and family, but sometimes other people would come. Most of the time, they were Jerome fanatics. There must've been a cult of them or something, because every time it was a different person or group of people. They idolized him, and, by association, you. They saw Jerome as a messiah and you as his 'chosen one'. They always tried to get you to tell them about him, and at first you did.

"Well, he's... extravagant, for sure," you'd say. "He never hurt me, necessarily, but I mean, he killed people. He was a bad dude. I'm glad he's gone." This, of course, upset them. They were convinced he was just a rebel against authority and believed he could do no wrong, which is why you requested they stop being allowed to visit. This didn't mean the cult stopped keeping tabs on you, however. It just meant they had to keep their distance in order to keep you in their plans to resurrect Jerome and reunite him with you.

-THat was a shit cut off point i know and i'm sorry, im just tired and this took a long time

-j man will be back in the next installment of this series so don't worry ya lil brains

-PLEASE REQUEST STFF IM SO BORED AND NEVER BUSY AT ALL AND I NEED TO START BEING CREATIVE AND WRITING AGAIN

-my art class sketchbook is looking killer im so proud of her she's beautiful and if u want to see any of the works in here let me know i want to share ehr with you all

-my depression has been pretty subsided lately and that makes me super happy!! i mean like i still never do shit anyways but like at least im starting to be less sad about it i guess

WELL THERE U HAVE IT THATS AL L FOR TONIGHT FRIENDS

[lsdgay]

first 2 weeks of junior year official report

on a class by class basis 

persuasion - my favorite class, i’ve had the professor before and so has literally everyone but one person in the class and we all love him and he loves all of us, it’s like a big comm department party AND the readings so far are relatively short and simple to understand. we have quite a few papers that will be due over the course of the semester but most of them are quite short (tho the final is a 15 page group paper oof). i know it will not be the easiest like he makes u work for it but he’s good at explaining things and everything he asks is still possible 

europe - big yikes. the prof is a phd student and she expects us to read like one. she does understand that they’re hard but like what she assigns is so dense and so long there’s literally no way she can reasonably expect us to do it. she seems nice enough and the class is graded on literally only three things (student led lecture, responding to the student led lecture, and a 10 page final paper + participation) so im hoping as long as i get a good grip on a few readings i’ll be ok

contemporary world cinema - this is the other one that i am not feelin too thrilled about. we have to do the screenings on our own time which makes sense but idk all the film classes i’ve taken before just do them in class (bc they’re like 3 hour classes so a movie will only take up 1/3-2/3rds of that) so that’s kind of annoying but i’ll deal. the work isn’t that hard so far like i got thru it fine im just....idk still very unsure of what exactly is going on. i did get a free ticket to new york film festival out of it tho (which i then have to write a 5-6 page report about which isn’t THAT long but still, nothing in life is truly free). i also don’t really know anything abt the professor but there’s something about her that’s kind of condescending???? idk i may warm to her we will see. oh ALSO both of the movies we’ve watched so far have been fuckin sad (Circumstance (2011) and A Separation (2011) the latter of which i am only about half an hour but am not looking forward to finishing! like if ur gonna do this to me lock me in a room and give me no choice!!! this is not something i would ever chose to watch and being iranian has VERY little to do with it

the sublime in art and philosophy - i’m liking this one! it’s both a philosophy class and an art class so the prof is like a fun old art lady which im into, she’s very nice and all the papers are like only one page. im slightly concerned bc there’s a lot of art people and especially art history majors in there which is something i know absolutely nothing about and im happy to learn but them and the professor can speak about it soooo much more intelligently than me. in general tho im mostly excited for this one.

tv studio production - LITERALLY THE MOST DISORGANIZED SYLLABUS I HAVE EVER SEEN. IT WAS HORRENDOUS. that said, i don’t think the class will be too bad, most of the stuff is in-class so not a whole lot of homework, it’s also my only 200 level class (as all the rest are 300s) so like, it better be lol. i have this problem where i need to learn actual practical skills and not just textbook stuff but im also so much more comfortable with textbook stuff than physically doing anything (big enneagram 5 mood) so this class challenges me in that way, but is very important bc i definitely could see myself working in a tv studio in the future. the projects seem kinda fun i am just fearful. also we didn’t meet last week so this was the first week of that one. our first project is to film a PSA and my group’s is gonna be abt tattoo aftercare which was my idea and i am actually quite proud of, not too heavy but still to the point and important u kno, also all three of us have tats so it made sense.

so yeah. i don’t think it will be QUITE as hard as last semester but still pretty close probably. i am trying to stay ahead especially since im visiting jared !!!!!!! oct 17-21st. last weekend i only did like one class’ worth of stuff which is quite pathetic for 4 whole days so this week im trying to do all my stuff for contemporary world cinema & all the readings for europe (since i’m the respondent, so i’ll develop my questions later) bc that’s really the bulk of my work. i have some readings for persuasion that i anticipate will not take too long (and even if they do i have approx 6 hours to fill in the middle of my day every wednesday), but aside from that all i have to have for tv studio production is the pitch for the PSA which we’ve pretty much already done and i just have to read like two chapters of emerson’s nature for the sublime and write a little reflection paper about my senses inside vs outside