#sorry for the long response I tried to summarize

[paperboy-pb]

Are there any characters with Down Syndrome in Paperboy?

Yes, one of Matthew's classmates! One of my favorites, actually :]

(UPDATE: 09/06/2023 -- Here's a picture of him!)

He's a very friendly Asian boy named Karl Ho & is mainly into video games. Last time I posted art of him on the IG was December 4th!

I don't want to spoil too much, but I'll tell you a little more about him!

Karl is very friendly, silly, social, but calm. He's always down to make a new friend and spends a lot of his time either watching cartoons, or gaming with friends. Half the time he wears pajamas to school... just because he can. He's always looking for fun, and as of late, he seems to get along better with younger kids, because they're less judgmental & (sometimes) they have more in common. But of course, his two BEST friends (Aaran & Rudy) are indeed his age & all in the same class with him and Matthew. He tends to stay in this trio more often than not & is rarely spotted without them.

Like stated above, Karl has Down Syndrome (+ intellectual disability as well,) so this causes people to act... "weirdly" towards him.

Strangers see his face & whisper to each other. Adults at school talk down to him like a baby; and while no one in class has the audacity to bully him outright, sometimes certain classmates tend to write Karl off / "forget" about him because they think he can't understand things, like the drama that goes on between kids. Especially now that they're in middle school, as social dynamics are becoming more complicated & a lot of kids' interests are moving on to more "mature" things, meanwhile they see him as very childish. (For example, one of the other kids, Levi, is big into scary things like Creepypasta & horror.)

So of course, Karl tends to be out of the loop more often than not. He considers almost all his peers as his friend, but only really has the two good ones.

Karl is actually fairly perceptive though, & almost ALWAYS notices when this happens. And he doesn't like it very much, but he stays quiet, pretends like he didn't see or hear a thing, because he actually isn't sure how he wants to handle it yet. He doesn't like being seen as a baby-- he's the biggest kid in this class! Aaran in particular is always the first to remind people of that.

And not only that, but he isn't all innocent, either: he's not always happy, he makes mistakes, he can bad words just like the other kids, and sometimes he follows the crowd when he shouldn't, just for the sake of feeling included. Plus... he's actually the most girl-crazy one out of the boys, lol. Little man definitely wants to find a girlfriend.

He's not just simple & sweet-- he's competitive in games, kind, a mini hopeless-romantic, not the best at speaking up, and always good company. Albeit a little dorky.

And Karl knows why people do this, but at the same time, he doesn't get it & wishes they wouldn't. It's not fair. And hopefully one day, he'll start to actually voice that himself.

...

As for him & Matthew-- they get along pretty well! Matthew tries not to talk to him about personal issues, though; Matthew doesn't think they're close enough for that yet.

I can definitely see Karl spamming him over Discord to play Among Us or something on a Sunday night, & Matthew VERY enthusiastically joining, lol.

[miundy-again]

Oh man, i have been wanting to submit an ask for a while, but i was also wanting to double check if any of my future ask ideas have already been asked lol

Ask:

When, where, and what was the moment that ignited Frisk and Chara's feelings for each other?

C: Are we really going to answer to this?

F: Chara loved me even before they got their body back i think ;)

I can take this opportunity to talk about the story I imagine them in most of the time and never got to talk about...

It can be long… when I started drawing those two, even before the Charisk happened, (it happened naturally while I was working on the thing) the story was this. I’ll try to summarize but sorry if it’s long. ;v;

When Frisk first escaped the Underground, Chara’s spirit left them. They tried again many times in many ways to change that until something worked. Since, they share the soul.

The first years were kinda chaotic you could say, Chara didn’t like Frisk very much…

Frisk was waiting for Chara to claim their soul anytime but it was never coming. Chara were just sorta happy and chill to live again through Frisk. They also learned to tolerate and even – if I dare- like them. (they do.)

The two lived like that for years until Chara decided they had overstayed their welcome enough and requested Frisk to let them finally go. Which they did. (By this point. I’m pretty sure Chara LOVED Frisk.)

It didn’t go so well after that for Frisk.

They were sure they were gonna be ok without Chara, and they were at the beginning. They were a grown-up, they were responsible, they were strong-willed!

They couldn’t remember how they were living before falling down, alone in their head. They had lived alongside Chara for years, and their absence left a space in them where something nasty could grow. After just one year it started to gnaw away at their sanity. So, they decided to reset. They wanted to try something else, and for the first time felt they could be selfish about it.

This time they wanted to try to get Chara’s body back. And they succeeded!

But they had to get back to when they were children, and start back from here, once more.

Well, as for THE question.

It took a little more time for Frisk to notice the nature of their feelings. Of course they liked Chara but the realization came when they were around 12 I think? Despite all the flirting they do, they were quite dense, poor thing.

As for Chara, as said before, it was already here, muffled. And having a body again and get to grow up made Chara experiment some new things. Like. Puberty. Things that go with it. Mess of feelings. Whirlwind of too many things not under control. Gross :D

All of this to say that it took some time. And it was gradual. Also, puppy love is cute af.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (Part 29)

Tw: mental breakdown and thoughts that made you go a little "wtf", mentions of non con touching, a bit of smut, chapters kinda short

okay here u go Evangeline enjoyers

Part 30

You decided to confront her. The suspense as to why she did what she did is killing you.

So you have to work, on composing a long-winded paragraph with a beginning, middle, and end. Your hands were shaky from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you were never really assertive. So this is very new to you, yet exciting, yet frightening.

You tried not to be too accusatory and not too dismissive. It was hard because you either tend to paint her as a horrible person or paint yourself as an overreactive dramatic. However, you managed to find the right balance with the ultimate goal of extracting her reasoning behind her latest behavior towards everyone.

You held your breath as you tapped send.

You waited and waited while chewing on your nails. Imagining all the ways she would respond. Anger? Remorse? Revenge? Nonchalance? It could be anything, even no response at all.

Which you thought you might be getting. She hasn't replied to you yet and it's been 30 minutes since you sent it. You sighed, she's probably just busy and will take her time to read too, you should be patient and find a way to calm your nerves.

You were about to put your phone down and prepare yourself dinner; which is just following the instructions Yves plastered on its container- usually only involving the microwave or the saucepan. You jolted when your phone buzzed to life, your mouth was gaping wide when you saw the contact to be your dreaded friend: Evangeline.

You whimpered, pacing around the room as you let it vibrate. You feel unprepared, inexperienced, and upset. You regret doing this in the first place. You wish you could just disappear into a hole somewhere, or disappear into Yves's warm embrace.

It stopped ringing. A text message took its place after that.

"Pick up"

She didn't give you more than ten seconds to read before attempting to call you again.

So you decided to take a leap of faith and answer her call.

"(name)? I read your text, what are you talking about?" She sounded concerned and worried, and there were hints of something darker that you picked up in her voice.

She did not read your text. At least, she refused to understand it. You were clear in what you wanted from her; which was to stop doing what she was doing and reflect upon her actions, giving you her rationale behind her offenses at the same time.

You summarized it, telling her that she was confusing and weird. You didn't like how she tried to touch you without your consent. You cannot figure out for the life of you if she was on Montgomery's side, Yves's, or yours.

"I'm on your side, of course. I'm your friend! What? So I can't touch you now? I think you need to get out of your shell more, (name). That didn't mean anything, you can touch me the same way too if you want to get even--"

You cut her off and told her no. You don't think whatever she's doing is merely a friendly gesture. You felt dirty and violated even having Evangeline suggest that you do the same to her.

There was a beat of silence, followed by a sigh.

"...I'm sorry you felt that way, (name). I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to be a good friend."

You didn't know what to say next. Soon after, you heard sniffling and soft weeping.

"I'm so sorry. You're such a good friend to me, I don't want to lose you. Please don't be mad at me." Her voice cracked and wavers. You

You don't know how you feel about her reaction. But you do know that, unlike Yves, you have the power to walk away from her. He's coming back tomorrow anyway, so you won't be the 'friendless' on campus anymore. So you can afford to cut her off because she's acting strange and you think that being with her, will lead to more trouble.

You told her that you're not mad at her. But you don't feel comfortable hanging out with her anymore.

"What?! W-why? I apologized, what more do you want me to do?" She raised her voice and strained it painfully. You hear that she began to sob and wail.

You told her that there was nothing she could do except to move on. You wished her the best and said goodbye.

You hung up before she could get another word in. You immediately blocked her and flopped onto your bed. The breath you exhale felt like smoke evacuating your lungs, you felt you could breathe properly again without feeling too worked up. At least that chapter of your life is done, you most likely would either need to take the bus or Yves would drive you around. Fine by you, no Evangeline or Mr. Jones in sight.

You will let Yves handle Montgomery, he has a bigger, legal hammer to beat him with.

__

"Sweetie...?" Mr. Jones creaked the door to her room open, letting the lights from the hallway spill into her pitch-dark room.

She was crying, her breathing was choppy and her whimpers bounced off the walls. Evangeline was sobbing into her pillows, her blond hair was a mess around her, unlike her usual combed style. Her beautiful dress was wrinkled and her blue eyes were red and puffed.

Her father stared at her with heartbreak and pity. You must have told her already. However, he knows that this behavior of hers needs to be addressed. Evangeline's mother is cooking downstairs, she was never the type to be compassionate in her discipline methods. So Mr. Jones decided to be the one to break the news to her.

"Oh, Evangeline..." He switched the lights on and sat right next to her sniveling form.

She didn't acknowledge his presence, nor did she wish to talk to him. But he has to discuss with his daughter that some things aren't acceptable.

"Sir Yves... he called me earlier." Mr. Jones felt her entire body tense up to the mention of his client. "Mx. (Name) told him you were touching them inappropriately, is that true?" He was gentle with his words, careful not to provoke his already emotionally unstable daughter.

She neither confirms nor denies. Evangeline just stayed very still.

"...Please, Evangeline. You have to talk to me." He pleaded, rubbing a soothing hand on her shoulder. "What's going on?"

No response.

He shuffled himself on the bed uncomfortably. Mr. Jones cleared his throat.

"You can tell us anything. You know Mommy and Daddy love you no matter what." Evangeline moved a bit, but it was only to adjust her positioning. Her face remains buried in her pillow.

"I-I don't get it, I know you're a good girl but... these things that happened to you, these things you did... Why?" He asked, gently shaking her as Mr. Jones looked at her in desperation.

"Hitting your baby cousins suffering from illnesses, pushing your pregnant aunt Myrtle down the stairs, accusing your uncle Ben of infidelity, the rumors about some... ridiculous cheating scandals, and now this? Why?" Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as well, he bit back his lip to try and avoid it from rolling down his cheek.

He retracted his hand when he felt Evangeline trembling. It was soon made known to him that she was shaking in hysterics.

"You are all so ungrateful! I was trying to help everyone!" She snapped, her heart holding an ugly contempt for the world around her, which included her doting father.

"They weren't going to live long anyways, their mothers constantly complain of needing to take care of their children. I wanted to save Aunt Myrtle from that horrible, horrible fate, but I'm the villain? Uncle Ben hated his wife and kids, he wanted to escape. I gave him that escape, didn't I? He went ahead and married a woman much prettier and younger than his ex, didn't he? Why am I the villain?" She screamed as she hyperventilated, her father taking a step backward to avoid her erratic movements.

"Evangeline-"

"I didn't- I didn't steal her boyfriend! I was trying to get along with him, I wanted us to be a big happy group but they were fighting. I didn't want them to fight..." She sobbed loudly into her hands. Her nails dig into the delicate flesh on her face as she tries to quell her rage. "They were my friends! (Name) was my friend, I tried to help them, I tried..."

She crumbled to her knees and bawled. "I tried helping them get along with Sir Yves, but I was punished for it. I tried helping them get along with Monty, but I was... told I was 'weird'. I just wanted something back, I just wanted to touch them, they were so good to me... I wanted to touch them. Was that so wrong?"

"Yes, Evangeline! You can't just... touch them like that! You don't touch your friends in that manner, you don't touch anyone in that manner! What are you..." He was at a loss for words. Her father tried looking back at what was being taught to her, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but why couldn't she think normally? Her logic is distorted and her sense of entitlement is demented, it's much more serious considering that she began her unhinged quests for justice just a year ago.

She looked away and wept some more. Evangeline is alone again, a feeling so familiar to her. It's ironic, that her parents tried to expose her to as many people as they could to improve her loneliness as an only child. But in a room full of children and adults who she knew on a first-name basis, she was alone. So, so alone.

There is nobody in the world she could tell her thoughts to. She tried telling her mother, her so-called 'friends', her extended family... they all deemed her crazy. She was forbidden to have her truest opinion on life and Evangeline never understood why, it felt unfair, it felt like the world was against her. Not even the vastness of the internet allowed her to find like-minded companions, she was shunned out of communities she desperately yearned to be in for being true to herself.

"You're just like the rest..." She mumbled inaudibly under her breath. "It's useless..." She muttered, a bit more coherently now. Enough for her father to pick up on.

"What's useless, sweetie?" He wiped away his own tears of anguish, it was horrible to see his child suffer like this, but he did not have the skills or understanding to help her.

"Crying about it... it's useless." She sniffled and wiped away her tears. Mr. Jones watched her blink multiple times with a neutral expression.

Evangeline stared into the distance for a few minutes. She didn't blink nor did she speak, not a single twitch of her muscle could be seen or felt. Her father was worried that she wasn't even breathing because her sniffles stopped and the girl let her nose drip freely. Her blue eyes are dilated and blank.

"Evangeline...?" Her father hesitantly shook her by the shoulder. She blinked one last time, allowing a tear from each eye to roll down her already damp cheeks.

When she opened her eyes once more, her usual girlish sparkle was back. Evangeline blew her nose on a piece of napkin she pulled from her tissue box nearby. She crumpled the soiled sheet in her hands, a long strip of muscle on the inner side of her wrist was raised when she squeezed it in her fist. She let go and threw it into her trash can.

"All better." She smiled, patting the area under her eyes with her fingertips.

Baffled by her sudden, impossible change, Mr. Jones tried asking her all the questions in his head, but it came out as a pathetic stutter.

"I'm sorry for costing you a customer, Daddy." Her eyes were downcast. "I promise I won't do it again."

Mr. Jones's eyes darted around her. Confused and terrified at this strange switch of hers. "Sweetie, I-"

"If you'll excuse me, Daddy, I need to freshen up." She stood up and smoothed her hair. "Please leave my room, I will join you and Mommy downstairs for dinner, later. Okay?"

He has no words to give. So he nodded and as usual, became a pushover for his daughter.

She guided him out, waved goodbye with the sweetest smile, and closed the door. Her hand went to the knob to lock it shut.

She took a moment to stare into space as she listened for her father's footsteps. Once she's positive that he has gone downstairs, she lets out a sigh.

Evangeline switched her lights off and headed to her bed. She laid on it and picked her phone up.

The screen illuminates her face. She made a few taps on it and soon found herself scrolling through her picture gallery.

"Maybe it isn't so bad to be the Villain..." She mumbled to no one in particular, grinning to herself.

Her pupils dilated tremendously when her optics landed on a picture of you on the beach. You were bending over and collecting seashells, so focused on your activity that you didn't notice a pair of lenses capturing this moment.

Evangeline's breathing became more ragged as her eyes glimmered at the sight of your mildly saltwater-dampened rear. You're such a prude, how she wished you wore something a bit more accessible. That would have made her very happy. Maybe if it was a little warmer, you would have worn something a lot more revealing and easier to worm her depraved digits around.

Her soft hands slowly slid down to her panties, torturously tucking one finger at a time under the fabric.

The more the blonde stared at different pictures of you, the further her perverted hands and thoughts went.

She stifled a moan as she touched herself, she imagined doing all kinds of unspeakable things to you. She wanted to see you under her, she wanted to see you squirm and beg for her forgiveness. Evangeline wanted to ravage you like the beast she was under that heroine-like persona.

She quivered as she pumped her fingers into herself. But her eyes never strayed away from that photo of you. Evangeline wanted to take you so badly, she wanted to overpower you and have you pinned against the wall, the bed, the floor... She drooled at the thought of you so helpless and despaired.

Her baby blues shifted towards your clueless face. You looked like you never experienced the high of an orgasm before. She could fix that, she could make you cum over and over again until you fell unconscious in her fluffy pink handcuffs, eyes rolled back into your head, and all your orifices dripping with sexual fluids. What a sight, she thinks.

She had to push her face into her pillow as she let out a powerful moan.

Even then, she still went on. Furiously rubbing herself and imagining herself as this antihero in your story. But ultimately, you saw her as your savior in her mind.

[reqxxyt]

the regrets i never made

pairings: pierre g. x f!reader

warnings: breakup, attempting at writing angst, cursing

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Fuck you. Just fuck you Pierre.”

“Fine. Just leave like everyone else” he shut you down and you stopped in your tracks, turning to meet his hard gaze as tears threatened to fall through your glare. 

“Do not put the blame on me for trying to fix this. To fix us” you made a movement to indicate the two of you. Your voice softened as a single tear fell “I have tried so hard to repair what was broken for so long. I’m sorry Pierre but I can’t stay”

His silence was enough of a response to turn and leave, with nothing but a cracked heart and a headache. 

“Y/n?” His voice brought me back to the present, pulling me from all past memories that were drowned for so long. I hadn’t turned, too scared that I wasn’t hearing things and he was actually here. But then I felt the rain that was pouring on me a second ago coming to a full stop and lifted my head seeing a black umbrella, the one I had let him borrow all those years ago.

I finally turned, so slow that I could feel cars beside us spring by, splashing some water onto my shoes. I paid attention to  anything but the person who had given me everything I knew for so long, the person I had broken myself for. 

“I thought I recognized you” His voice was so soft, eyes looking apologetic wanting to spring out so many questions with curiosity lingering on the top of his tongue. “How- how have you been?”

“Good” was the only word I could say, it was true. I had rebuilt my life with the help of my singular friend and now I felt the happiest I’ve ever felt. Just like the first couple of months of my, and Pierre's relationship, vulnerable and naive can do that to a girl. I reciprocated the same question although I didn’t put much care into my tone. 

“Good as well” He bit his lip feeling the need to mention something else. “I thought I would never see you” 

I had hoped I would never see him, afraid I would run back into his arms, begging to come back but instead I look at him and feel pleased with myself. Although I didn’t say it back then, having cut him off completely, I wished him the best. 

My gaze dropped down, paying more interest to my torn soaking shoes than him right now. “Do you ever miss it?” he asked, almost blurted out but he said it with such a gentle tone, okay with the idea of me not responding but I did anyway,

“I thought I would” I summarized my rant, blinking back upwards to him hearing the rain from the umbrella stop as the sun started to glare down forcing me to squint my eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, not completely understanding my response, “I missed the memories, the good ones at least but not so much the way you treated me like a girlfriend of convenience” 

This time, his gaze dropped down still having the umbrella upwards although there was no longer any rain pouring down, only dropplets that ran down the umbrella. With almost no hesitation, I lifted my hand and held the umbrella pushing it to the side. Normally my insides would flip at the simple touch of his finger but now I felt calm, at ease, as I took my hand away, bringing it back to my side as his eyes trailed them before coming back to make eye contact. 

“Have a good one Pierre” I said before turning filling my jacket pockets with my hands as I forced one foot in front of another, every step feeling heavier than the last, walking down the sidewalk. I could't look back. I shouldn't. I only hung my head high no matter how much I wanted to drag it to the side to peak if he was still there but my mind forced me to keep walking.

As I walked down the barely lighted ally, with pouring rain dripping only the outside of my rain jacket as I held tightly onto the holding of umbrella afraid it’ll fly away from the strong breeze. I had just finished my last final of college and desperately wanted to eat, but most restaurants hid in the alley. Not very creepy. 

A figure caught my eye as I was about to pass it, it was huddled onto the side of the ally curled to almost a ball being poured rain, my heart pained from the sight hating seeing anyone be poured rain on. I debated internally before walking up to him already adjusting the hood of my rain jacket to cover my hair. 

Without saying a word, I shifted the umbrella to cover his head instead of my own. The guy's eyes trailed from my shoes, moving upward until catching eye contact with my own. His eyes narrowed and I asked myself internally if I had just made the stupidest decision. 

“Taking pity on me?” he asked, scrunching up his nose and I immediately shook my head not wanting it to seem that way. 

“No, of course not. Would just hate to see you get sick” I responded, stumbling over my words and I only got a half-lifted smile, amused over my excuse. “Here take it” I offered the umbrella and he refused, standing and I just now realized his height, analyzing his features, the one that struck me the most in this half-light ally were his colored eyes, which told so much yet held nothing. I had a sudden feeling to want to know everything about him. 

“If you care so much about me getting potentially sick, you should take care of me then” He shrugged hoping to get a reaction out of me but I stood still, blankly staring at his eyes. I heard my stomach grumble beneath me, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. 

“I think I would much rather eat,” I said, handing the umbrella over giving him no choice but to accept it. He chuckled as I headed down to get food, not caring much about my 5 dollar worth umbrella. 

The next morning, I spotted him at a coffee shop alone but I didn’t approach him, instead, he approached me. He asked me out on a date and promised to give back my umbrella as a trade. Instead of accepting it that night, I kept ‘forgetting’ about it every date that passed and it soon just became his. 

[sugamehhq]

"I'm Sorry. / For what?"

[Johnny’s POV]

When he asked me to talk to him while he showered, I was slightly confused. Given, he hadn't said it verbally, I still followed like a dog on a leash. I've learned when it's hard for him to speak his mind, he lets me in, tells me without letting it out for anyone else to hear. Him not being surprised I followed gave me the reassurance I wasn't just hearing things. It was strange, today, that is. I've been watching him closely the past few days, all of which progressively got more and more worrying. He seemed dissociated, like nothing he did was registering in his mind. Of course, I've tried to talk to him about it, but he dismissed my concern. He's a closed guy when it comes to himself, I don't mind that, but I itch to know what's on his mind. The times he lets me in, tells me things he wouldn't say out loud, it's quiet. Way too quiet. For someone who appears confused and detached from reality, his mind is silent. It scares me.

It took him ten minutes to even get the shower going. I sat silently, waiting for him to ask for help, but he didn't. Not even mentally. His hands gripped the marble counter, his head hung low, he looked tired and lost. I wanted to help, I really did, but he never let me. I mean sure, he's been vulnerable around me, but he's never actually searched for my comfort, my aid. He feels it's just pity, something he can't rely on, he's afraid to try. I get it, really. I respect his way of doing things. That's why I sat there, only moving when he asked for my help, which never came.

Behind the curtain I sat, silent, trying to think of something to say. What made it hard was my want to confront him about his empty mind. It bothered me. A soft and confused call of my name took my attention before I could accidentally speak my mind.

-

I talked about the last movie I watched. A few hours prior to him entering my humble abode, I had watched a movie, nothing special, but interesting enough for me to pick apart and describe, to give him something to think about in that desolate mind of his.

Usually his showers are short and to the point. I hadn't realized how long we'd been sitting there until I finished summarizing every scene of the movie I could remember.

At some point, he stopped responding. I was unaware, having been caught up in overanalyzing each scene, explaining every detail I could. I gently spoke, his name leaving my lips like a question I didn't know the answer to. It felt like time stopped, like I was unable to proceed, to know if he's even alive in there. My hand reached for the curtain slowly, to offer my hand.

There was no response to any of my actions. The splattering of the water raining from the shower head spoke back, not him. There was a change in how it landed on the floor. I called for him one more time, begging for a response. 

Every time he gets in my head, it catches me off guard. What I heard wasn't exactly clear, but I heard enough to respond. I had asked him through my thoughts if he needed my help. For the first time in days, he said yes. Nothing more was said, and frankly nothing more needed to be said. I stood from my spot behind the curtain and stepped to the other side.

I'm not fond of wet clothing sticking to my skin, but for him, I'm willing to put my comfort aside.

-

The shower was a lot smaller than I'd like, given I had just moved into this new place, had to find something new after losing it all right? I started saving up to get this bathroom redone, maybe get a fancier shower, but that's besides the point.

The water had turned cold, and he just stood there, hugging himself. Admittedly, it was strange, but who am I to judge.

I asked him what he needed help with, what I could do for him, but he didn't respond. His face said enough.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do or what to say to him. My hand moved on its own in a poor attempt to shield him from the cold of the shower, hovering just barely over his shoulder. He didn't move. It felt awkward, I won't lie.

The moment his face contorted, pain making itself known, I brought him towards me. He was tense against my shoulder, his hands clinging to his arms. I still never had my answer to what this was about, he never told me. I know he's in some sort of pain, but how am I supposed to help when I don't even know what's bothering him? Was it his eyes? Does he just have a horrible headache? Is it-

My thoughts stopped the second he entered my mind. Everything I was thinking was shoved out, his thoughts pouring in. I felt my body tense as I heard everything. There was no clear answer. For once his mind was louder than mine.

-

In my own way, I would call it a headache, but maybe that's because my head began to pound trying to understand what was wrong.

I tried to break through the mess with my own loud thoughts, fortunately they were louder than his. The battle in our shared mind continued, but his arms relaxed enough to wrap around my shoulders.

At some point I'd lost control of what to do, my body just kind of planted there for him to seek comfort in. This part began to blur together for me. The only part that made it through was the fact that I had started crying. My body didn't move, and yet my eyes cried. I didn't get it, I wish I didn't get it.

My eyes cried the tears he couldn't.

He shared his thoughts with me, how he felt, so I could cry for him.

What a horrible thing to be aware of.

I remember his body shaking against mine, how he sounded like he was the one crying, but he wasn't.

It was a strange connection, yet disconnection. His tears, my eyes. It was wild, to say the least.

Having touched my face in response to these tears, I leaned forward just enough to turn the shower off. It gave way to the sound of his shallow breaths. My hand returned to him, to provide warmth after being pelted with the cold for way too long.

-

I wanted to get him out of there, to give him clothes to dress himself, but he didn't move when I tried. Pulling him slightly in any direction blurred my eyes with more tears. I took that as his way of telling me to just stay there with him, to not leave him by himself. Losing contact with me was the last thing he needed at that point in time.

If you asked me how long we stood there, I wouldn't be able to give you a time. My legs were numb from not moving, and his skin was relatively dry. The shaking against my chest had stopped, but the pain of racing thoughts was still in the back of my mind. The first word he said out loud after entering this room was a raspy, "sorry," before he cleared his throat.

It hurt to hear him say that. There was no reason for it, yet he still felt the need to say it. I hated that.

He hesitantly let go of me, hands going to find their way back to his own arms. Before he could hug himself, I took his hands, his fingers ever so slightly shaking as if he was trying to hide it.

He kept his face angled down, avoiding my eyes. He hated it when I stared at him, especially in times like this. It always felt like pity to him. Even if he couldn't see my face, he could always feel it, my gaze.

My thumbs brushed over his tattooed knuckles. I tried to tell him there was no need for apologies, no reason to hide anything, he was allowed to be vulnerable here, as much as he hates it.

-

I watched his lip twitch before my sight was clouded again with his tears. I had assumed he kept doing this to show he appreciated my words without actually telling me. To let me know how he felt since it's so hard to tell me himself. Yet at the same time, that's exactly what he was apologizing for. For telling me, showing me, how he felt.

It became clear when he pulled away from my grasp, uttering a quiet "sorry," once more.

He stepped out of the shower and into the main area of the bathroom, quickly finding the clothes he left on the counter. Once dressed, he held his hand out for me to take. I took it, of course, and allowed him to lead me to my bedroom.

I don't know why he did it, but with little time in between actions, he grabbed Sento and began searching for clothes in my closet. I completely forgot about my clothes being damp until he placed the newly found clothes on the bed and told me to strip. Instinctively I wanted to make a joke out of it, but reading the room made me aware that wasn't the right response.

He turned his back to me, gently placing Sento on the stand I had for it on the dresser. I wanted to question him, to ask if he was alright, but instead I kept it to myself and followed his orders.

Now newly dressed, I found myself behind him, my arms snaking around his waist. He flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but found himself melting into it as always.

What bothered me about it was the fact he didn't smile.

He always smiled when I did that.

My own smile faded as quick as it had appeared.

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose, almost in frustration it seemed. I opened my mouth to question, but he spoke first.

"I'm sorry," was all he said.

Again with this horrid word.

I wished he'd stop saying it.

There was no need for such a phrase.

"For what," is all I replied.

I wanted to let him talk on his own, to not bombard him with my concerns, of which he knew I had.

It took him a few minutes before finally telling me the truth.

Finally I had an answer.

And finally, I knew how to help him.

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

There is no full context, it's up for interpretation :)) Just wanted to write something between these two and this happened.

Avoiding the use of their names was a style choice!

Hopefully you enjoyed :))

[lymtw]

Realistically, how do you think reader would get Toji to be vulnerable with them? I like to think he’s very closed off with his deeper emotions and really struggles to communicate (maybe even not thinking he’ll get close to reader in their early meeting/relationship especially if it started out as one of his means for financial stability).

Part two and part three to this ask

Realistically, I do think it takes a lot to get Toji to open up about his struggles. He meets you, and doesn't differentiate anything about you and the other women he's seduced before. He has the same mentality where he sees you as solely a sexual conquest. He has a moment of realization where he notices that suddenly he sees you everywhere. He's in same places you're at, and frequently. Strangely, it's never awkward because you don't retain him in your mind as the man you had a one night stand with. You always wave, politely, before going on your way.

Fast forward to your relationship. You don't mind that Toji is crashing with you for "a couple weeks" while he's in the area. If anything it makes you happy that you get to see him so often. It gives you hope that you will get to know him even better. He sleeps in your bed, next to you, and with this comes getting to know that Toji is a very lustful man. You find that he doesn't keep his hands to himself when you sleep together. If he's not groping you, he's not comfortable. Lingering touches turn into full blown intimacy when things get heated enough.

I'd believe that Toji has a moment of clarity, where he notices that you aren't wavering. You hold your own against him, standing your ground as all of his attributes reveal themselves. The good and the bad. After another night of intimacy, you decide to test the waters. You ask him why throughout his entire time knowing you and staying with you, he's never talked about his family, or his past in general. He instantly clams up, dodging the question like it's glass being thrown at him.

You try again and again, and it's not until you feel like you're being made fun of for caring, that you let up. Toji notices the shift in your demeanor. The environment is tense, and you shrunk in on yourself. You aren't talking, only humming responses to him. It's only when you turn away that Toji realizes how bad it would actually be to mess things up with you. You care. You let him into your home, not caring that he lied about only staying there for a few weeks. You offered your hand to a man who was fighting for his life, literally.

So, he asks if you really want him to open this rotten can of worms. It wouldn't be something lighthearted or possibly something you could handle without having emotions, and you told him that you weren't there to judge him. You were there to listen and understand those parts of him he so desperately wanted to heal.

So he told you about his family and his past, and you cried so much, not understanding how he could tell you that he suffered with a straight face. He revealed that his job as an assassin was his ticket to survival. He made so much money off of it, but he was financially irresponsible. He developed a gambling addiction when he was at the lowest point in his life, blowing all his money when he had the chance.

You couldn't be mad at him, even when he told you that he has no home away from where he sleeps with you every night. You felt so sad and Toji could see it in your red, swollen eyes. They twinkled with sorrow, crystals cascading down your face. He gave you a glimpse of what he went through and it completely destroyed you, emotionally.

He tries to lighten the mood again by telling you that you'll dehydrate yourself with how much you're crying, but you don't hear it. You end up throwing arms around him and sobbing into his chest, wanting to feel his natural body heat against you, because after hearing the brief, summarized backstory of his life, you felt like a dead body. Cold.

(Sorry this got so long, but this is my take on it)

[shoezuki]

Shoe im too sleep deprived to go zooming on all those screenshots and redownloadong the bird app, may i ask what is happening w the dream drama u posted? I love ur summaries, they make me laugh about things i am gratefully unaware of

My beloved anon im sorry it took me this long. But i am lazy. No other reason really. So i am now chronicling this dhit on my phone. And oh fuck dude is it a trip

SO. this fuckery began with quackity announcing the QSMP. He did so on the 17th of march and whatever the fuck. He mentioned it earlier than this (edit: just checked but the First announcements was the 10th)

And this is all great. New server that fucks. But what truly started all this. Was dream's tweet on his private twitter.

Im gonna try to be kinda impartial qnd jus. Explain it all as is but first i gotta say who says this shit lmao. So quackity announces his new project and is very passionate about it, he tweets more on his alt(?) About how much it means to him to bring his two languages spanish and english together. And dream on private is like 'wow cool! Guys dont get mad at me when i announce the same thing later tho haha' its just so weird.

But anyways. The usmp wasnt even A Thing. Only written instance of dream makin a multilingual server was in a tweet defending himself from copying quackity. (Altho he allegedly mentions in streams or whatever wanting yo do things w other ppl from other languages? But that shit dont count n im not diggin audio n videos out fuck that).

The actual, official announcement of dream makin a usmp was april 2nd (idk why this says the 3rd but whatever) wherein he announces the 'first multilingual smp' with a list of languages that will be on it such as portugese, spanish, english, russian, etc. And that it has live translation.

The same day, quackity releases a tweet labelling the qsmp as the 'first multilingual smp' and that he is introducing a live translation system to it. Mr beast connects that the usmp and qsmp are similar to which dream responds. Quackity doesnt respond, nor does he acknowledge the usmp at all.

Dream's response is essentially theyre different in that qsmp is spanish and english, he announced his live translator first, they had 'similar good ideas'.

So. This sparked a lot of drama and discussion. Because of the 'first multilingual' bit in that people began discrediting qsmp as it was 'only' english and spanish, and therefore was bilingual and not multilingual. Altho others countered thid by saying quackity himself called it a multilingual server in his streams. Not to mention the idea that the translator was copied but regardless both those things are kinda stupid arguments and just drama inspired by the comparisons.

More notably is that dream team were making fun of the 'first multilingual server' bit after this. Dream was liking some jokes at it as well

Dream also liked some. Vaguely sexual/romantic 'they should just kiss already' art of him and quackity?

Also after this dream started somewhat addressing/replying to quackity more. Quackity didnt respond to any of it.

Dream also tweeted this on his private the day after

Most narrowed in on the 'this wouldnt have happened without quackity' and was often interpretted as dream saying quackity HELPED him w it in some way or that there was more collab behind the scenes but we will find that to be false. Because. On april 27th. Dream dropped his magnum opus. Which i will include in one screenshot.

Anyways i seriously encourage reading the full thing here because its. Something. Theres so much. It is literally 1.7k words. A lot of it is repetitive but i will. Try. To summarize it.

Essentially dream is writing that he has been trying to contact quackity for some time now with no response. He has been messaging him about how theyve ended up with similar servers (therefore noting that neither one know of the other). This gets nothing. Dream tries contacting quackity more publically with jokes. Nothing. He starts going through secondary sources by talkin to ppl to message quackity for him (i think some people who dream knows that are on the qsmp. Unsure who) but quackity doesnt say shit. Dream is being absolutely ghosted.

Im also noting this last paragraph in his first tweet where he describes being 'taken back' when quackity announces the qsmp live translator after his usmp announcement, because he 'knew it would cause more drama'.

He says he messages quackity so they can plan how to deal with the 'vitriol' between the teo 'communities' and that the drama can be solved with 'communication'. He is ghosted. He also mentions that he puts the usmp 'on hold' in the 2nd tweet so it all can be dealt with and he can 'extend love and support to quackity'. Most notably he says that its alluded that quackity wouldnt let ppl who were on the usmp couldnt be on the qsmp which dream tries to say makes sense for quackity to do.

Theres apparently a fucking image limit on the tumblr app which ive hit so i am now not using images and speedrunning this shit. But im quoting this one thing exactly as its most important:

"That being said, I’ve seen the communities split against each other and have tons of hate build around this and around the speculations of peoples motives and friendships and so on, and it’s really really harmful to the community as a whole. I have seen more threats, doxing, fights, slander, and hate between a bunch of fan bases that I’ve seen in a very long time. I personally have experienced an elevated level of in real life threats & stalkers & even had the police involved in somebody showing up at my house, & even putting trackers on my family vehicles, surrounding this drama, for the first time since pre-face reveal. That’s really why I feel like I have to say something about it despite me wanting to avoid any kind of serious talk about all of this, especially even talking about communication publicly feels wrong but necessary in this instance. I never like to air out anything that feels or is private, but I feel like in this case it’s really important for my fan base to be aware of my intentions, motives, thought process, and how we got to where we are. I’ve always been a creator that’s very open with my fan base about everything going on in my life and this is a massive thing right now for my friends & me"

His last tweet begins with him saying he 'doesnt want anymore drama' and ends eith him saying he loves quackity and believes this is all just a miscommunication.

Now, obviously, shit blew up. Hes been ratiod a few times by people meming it. Ive seen many people on quackity's 'side' saying that the usmp doesnt even exist yet, dream is the one causing drama, etc. And people on dream's 'side' saying quackity is being horrible and needs address this because its caused dream to be in danger. Most importantly. Quackity didnt address it at all.

But then quackity announced he was going live in an hour. And a lot assumed hed say something. But he didnt. His stream was roughly 15 minutes long and it was entirely quackity announcing that he was introducing brazilian/portugese speaking streamers onto the qsmp.

Anyways. Theres a lot of details but my hand hurts now. A big thing is whether qsmp or usmp was 'first'. Imo theres a lot more pointing towards quackity having had this is store for a longass time, as he had been hinting and a project of his for months and more notably the qsmp is so organized and put together i doubt he couldve had it finished up 'after' dream as dream's nonexistent server was an idea he got after that squidcraft thing in early March i think?

More recently (i think today) i saw that quackity apparently took two emojis off his twitch that were dream roblox characters and i saw people freaking out in r/dwt2 about how quackity could be so petty? But ya. My condolences if youve read all this.

[altschmerzes]

🌹 Can I request some moment of comfort? (First time sending an ask, but I’ve loved your writing for a long time now <3)

YES i love comfort i love writing comfort. one of my biggest Things as a writer is leaning into hurt/comfort and wanting to like. balance those things in Equal Measure And Intensity. if that makes sense.

(and thank you so much, i'm so delighted and honoured that you've enjoyed it <3 i hope you continue to!)

anyways!! so this is from the queerplatonic jamie and dani fic loneliness into loneliness, a little farther on from this clip that i posted earlier. jamie's had a Really Rough Day, he told dani about some really difficult stuff, and now they're going to sleep. to summarize the other clip, jamie had started to panic a little but he's settled more now, though still feeling pretty fragile. another slightly longer one (i have zero self control lmao) so most of it is under the cut!

The fact that he knows that Jamie feels that way - fragile and afraid and like he might shatter into pieces and disappear - and has seen him like that often enough that he knows what to do about it, how to talk to him and how to touch him to help, wrap Jamie in his protection when Jamie has none of his own to cling to, is wonderful and horrifying at the same time. Dani knows more about him than anyone ever has. Jamie has shown it to him. He let Dani see the mess inside him on purpose, see it and know its shape. It’s an ugly thing, he knows, and he feels suddenly and powerfully horrible for letting anyone see it, let alone Dani. “Sorry,” he says, muted and guilty. His inhale hitches faintly, and he says it again, “Sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry.” The response is warm and sad and Dani’s hand soothes slowly down and back up Jamie’s chest a few times before coming to rest over his heart once more. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Feels like I have.” The mumbled admission is barely audible but Dani seems to hear it anyway. Jamie feels him turn his head, resting his cheek against the stretch of skin at the top of Jamie’s spine, the very highest point of his back. “I know,” he says, and the warmth and sadness both are stronger even than before. “But you haven’t. I promise.” The sound of the voice so close to his ear and the way the words rumble from Dani’s ribcage into his own make Jamie shiver slightly. They’re so close to each other at this point that it’s like they’re nearly fused into one person - which is another thing that Jamie doesn’t understand. Why anyone would want that when there’s so much rot in him. When Dani knows that it’s there. “I love you,” Jamie says, nearly lost in the pillow. It’s all he can say at this point, the only thing that even comes close to summing up what he thinks and feels. What this all means. He purses his lips and tries to breathe out slowly. It’s supposed to help him calm down when he gets like this - breathing slow and calm, in and out, in and out. It’s tough when it feels like his lungs are the wrong size to fit in his chest and it’s difficult to get air all the way down where it needs to go. “I love you too,” is the response. It’s easy and simple, like Dani hadn’t even had to think about it. “Very much.” And it’s like some tense thing in Jamie snaps and he can breathe again.

[banamine-bananime]

preface: i was writing a list of my headcanons for funsies and got completely derailed with angsty grimmons shit that needs to be scooped out of that post because it’s stupid long. so here

grif worked in honolulu a couple years after hs graduation until kai was old enough (17) he felt he could leave. did a year at university before realizing he’s smart enough to be admitted to cornell but not to get the scholarship he realistically needs to not be in crushing debt on graduation, and also there’s not nearly enough regimentation to college life to prevent him from rotting in bed paralyzed by “oh my god i don’t have Responsibilities That Need To Be Done Right Now for the first time in forever and idk what to do now” and executive dysfunction. went through basic and stationed on the doomed outpost. That Whole Thing (a polite way of saying “sneaking off for a nap on duty, sleeping through a massacre, and waking up to find literally everyone else dead”) was the nail in the coffin that pretty much shot his last shred of motivation and hope to shit, and based on his behaviour and psych eval afterwards (best summarized as “learned helplessness that everything is shit always and he’s useless and never gonna be able to help anyone so 👍 fuck everything fuck everyone just try to eke some hedonistic joy out of life before you die”) he was reassigned to the sim soldiers.

meanwhile simmons tried to do university several times and had to drop out for mental health reasons (a very polite way of putting “rapid spiral into absolute disaster every time”. it leaves room for giving him the benefit of the doubt that this was a proactive “ah i should take care of myself and this is not working for me :) #selfcare #therapy” decision. this is not benefit of the doubt that anyone who knows him would extend.).

I go back and forth on whether to roll with the “that one throwaway line with a suspiciously specific hypothetical of being in a unit that was stranded and had to eat their dog to survive” thing or just say he was assigned straight to sim troopers. on the one hand, i really love grif and simmons having a parallel immensely traumatic first assignment that made them both Worse in kinda similar kinda opposite ways in line with the ways they were each already fucked up

(grif “life is inherently a garbage fire. i am useless. all i can do is look out for myself and save my own hide by absolute never trusting any authority, refusing to get attached to the other fuckers around here (they’d hate me anyways so just let them hate me), and obsessively hoarding any access to food and shelter and comfort because Maslow said I can’t work on health or belonging or esteem until i do :/ yeah i know, sorry, i’ve got a doctor’s note from him right here.” vs simmons “my life is a garbage fire probably because everyone around me is an idiot fucking something up but also because i’m not trying hard enough. i’m sure if i keep Performing The Maladaptive Behaviours even harder they will work and i THEN will feel respected and powerful and loved. you see you just have to keep repressing every feeling so you can suck up to anyone you detect a whiff of Authority Figure on no matter how little you actually respect them, and follow EVERY RULE and work and work and work. and you had better abandon any compunctions about things like eating a dog you loved or backstabbing a friend for brownie points from the CO who hates him or Literally Murdering your CO for a promotion. and if you ever stop desperately trying, fighting dirty looking out just for yourself, and instead just sit still for a moment and enjoy sincere zero-ulterior-motives connections with people, you will probably definitely immediately die of starvation or exposure (it is a metaphor you see. of exposure to the elements while stranded without resources. for the agonizing exposure of allowing yourself to be known.)”)

on the other hand i’m like whoa now. this boy’s got enough problems we really don’t need to be giving him any more or we’re really never gonna pry him free of the woobiefication fics.

[murdrdocs]

celeste I’m dying and need help (this is super fucking long I’m actually so sorry)

so this guy that I’ve been friends with since literally 8th fucking grade likes me and asked me to go out with him but I don’t like him back but I’m too scared to reject him because I’m the type of person to feel AWFUL if I hurt someone’s feelings. Everyone tells me that it’s not my problem and that I shouldn’t feel bad but like I CANT.

I really wished I liked him bc he’s super sweet and literally said he’d buy me sour patch kids and give them to me when we go out (but I feel bad when people buy things/do nice things for me too) and I’ve been trying to give him so many hints by either straight up avoiding him when he asks me out (this is all over text btw) and I also told him “if I wanted sour patch kids, yk id get them myself. plus I feel bad when people buy things for me” and he’s like persistent on it.

and to make it worse, he got rejected by a different girl a few months ago and literally cried. me and my friends (cause he’s in our friend group) were like “comforting him” (basically telling him she wasn’t worth his time bc she was kinda rude abt rejecting him) and stuff like that, so I don’t wanna hurt him again.

he knows I had a toxic ex but doesn’t know the full extent, and bc of that ex, I’ve literally not had a crush since him bc he traumatized me.

anyways I genuinely tried summarizing this super quick but I’m sorry it got so long, I understand if you don’t want to respond/read the whole thing, but if you do then thank you!!! <333 (sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes I’m just panicking rn and my autocorrect is working overtime)

-‼️

okay i'm gonna give it to u so straight: u gotta bite the bullet man. i get that ur empathetic but think abt this, if u do go out w him your feelings are most likely not going to change. then you'll be stuck, eventually he'll figure out/find out that u don't rlly like him. and it'll be a massive gigantic shit of a mess.

it sucks and it can be a sticky situation but the only way you'll get out of it is by being honest and putting ur foot down so to speak. plus it'll suck for a little while but if he's a good and true friend, he'll eventually move on and you guys will be just Friends again. and you can't be upset abt it forever like actually. you'll feel bad for a little while but eventually your body/mind will do what it needs to and you'll be okay again.

as for going abt it, avoidance neverrrr works in my experience. (been there trust) you have to tell him straight up that u dont want him. and if he is still persistent, then that's a major red flag (also trust me) and u do not want that in ur life.

also also, ppl get hurt unfortunately that is a part of life. if u don't hurt him, someone else will (sounds bad but it's true) and u aren't responsible for other ppl's feelings/how they react. all u can do is live ur truth and look out for no. 1.

anyway i hoped this helped? i am ... not the best at giving advice pertaining to men/guys/boy species without being a bitch abt it but i truly did try to set aside my erm ... dislike to help u. but get other advice too and ultimately go w ur gut (and ur head be logical but not too logical)

[hexhomos]

I'm sorry if you've been asked this before but what are your thoughts about Arcane potentially being canon? I do not like it.

And if you don't mind answering another question, how do you feel about the way people sort of interpret Jayce and Viktor?

I don't think it's a good idea and it strips away many of the interesting things about these characters and the *universe's story as a whole* to exclusively represent the simplified, time-limited version of events that could fit the runtime of a TV show.

I've been asked this before and I always say this: Arcane is the MCU version of league lore; with the same strengths (improved visuals, the fast pacing of a cinematographic adaptation) and same biggest weaknesses (flimsy story summarizations that sacrifice a lot of the compelling narrative and kill entire characters)

I've been a comic fan for nearly as long as the MCU has been viral and I can tell you every attempt to retcon MCU events into the estabilished comic universe has not worked. It has the opposite effect of interrupting character arcs and stories people actually like and undoing pre-estabilished facts about the magic of the universe, driving away fans of the original medium while failing to attract the new movie/tv-show audience to check out the original, because those are completely different demographics.

It's even worse with Arcane, as we already KNOW one big joke in the fanbase is "even if you like the show, dont play the game. It's stupid bigoted redditor shit and it sucks" - there's an entire genre of arcane fan accounts who are militant about not playing the game and encourage others to never play the game. I don't think league's execs understand this, though, which is why we are seeing this current trend of a DRASTIC pullback in any and all lore-related content for league coming from higher-ups, and some of the old estabilished writers leaving the company while CEOs promise they're trying to find "an unified version of the narrative experience."

To stay on topic here and also answer your second question; ive rambled at length about jayce viktor interpretations in my meta tag. I reccomend you to look there! You'll notice i havent gone into specifics about what in arcane's narrative is weaker since its included on those.

I'd like to finish this post in another way though. In the long run, I don't think it matters that execs are trying to force narrative retcons despite the internal and external negative response to it. Fans will always like the specific thing they like, and in this scenario, start to define what versions of the universe/character they're talking about by release year or authorship, which is already happening in league. This is why the vikjayce codex exists and will not change, and this is why you see people using "2011/2016 lore" and "jayce giopara", etc.

Remember all these MCU retcons I mentioned? Whenever a movie is past its expiration date and the story element they tried to fit into original canon is considered a fad, it's just rewritten back to what it used to be. The newest marvel news this month is that CEOs decided to kill kamala khan ahead of her upcoming movie, as the MCU couldn't fit her signature elastigirl powers and they want to swap those out for the dumb purple magic the movies gave her instead. This will not last, as these never do. In 4 years she'll be back to normal, and in the meantime, elastigirl kamala will continue to exist in all her source books and videogames. The same way league's original bios are preserved and spin-off game content like the LOR comics or Convergence will continue to exist; I can't change any shortsighted decision from the CEOs, but fans as a whole have systems to define different universes and pick the version they like best.

Arcane has been called an AU by people who've worked in LoL's narrative, and is just the newest shiny thing. It is not "canon", as it never fit any part of the current game universe, and any future attempt to "make it canon" is just another permutation of an AU. I would encourage anyone who's nervous or anxious about retcons to not give a shit and disregard it altogether. If it doesn't work, you can always change it back.

[hibewriter]

Lost In Translation

Masterlist   Read it on AO3 WIP Chapters: 1 2

The Rings of Power / Lord of the Rings | Haladriel / Saurondriel | 5.4K | E 

Tags: 1st persn POV | Dual POV | Drug Use | Character Death | Referenced Domestic Violence 

Chapter Two: Sober

March 2003

Halbrand

I won my first Oscar off the back of a murder I committed. It sounds dramatic, but it's true.

It's hard to explain. I had gotten the call to audition for the film in August of '01. I remember it vividly. My agent, Mel, had called me, claiming he was about to take me from the B-List to the A-List. I, being the responsible age of twenty-one, was coked out of my mind, sitting on the floor of my then girlfriend's apartment wondering if I could fix all of Los Angeles' traffic problems. I wasn't ready for star potential. Plus, Mel had told me that before. So I told him to fax me the script.

When I first read the script to GreyMan, twenty minutes into a comedown and half-heartedly thinking I'd text my girlfriend back, I cried. Not in that "I saw something sad and needed to let a tear go" type of way. No, I had a full breakdown in a New York apartment while I cried over the character I was supposed to read for in a little over a week. I won't summarize the film for you, likely to be found on any such streaming service or whatever new bullshit way we've made to fork over hundreds of dollars to people who still haven't given me my residuals. I digress.

The leading man was haunted, using substances to run from his mistakes and never confront the victims of his past. I guess it resonated with me. Not so much the political intrigue aspect of the film, but the character spoke to me. So I auditioned for the role. I got it on October first. I remember because when I got the call, Mel had said something I'd never heard him say before.

"I'm proud of you."

Fuck me, apparently. It wasn't the first role I ever auditioned for, nor was it the first one I'd gotten hired for. We both knew at this point that I was a damn good actor, that I'd been doing this long enough to act circles around the fresh faces. I was young, but I'd been in front of the camera since I was nine. But now that it was a script he liked...

I tried to get sober for the first time on October third, two thousand and one. It lasted precisely ten days, fifteen minutes, and thirty seconds. My girlfriend, broke up with me, the second I confided in her what I'm about to tell you. Up until this point, I hadn't thought to mention it to her, as it hadn't even crossed my mind to tell her that I was a murderer. As you can imagine, it's not the first, second, or third thing I want to think about. Even more so, not when she reacted like that.

I need to preface the following with the truth. I am not proud of how I handled this. I'm not proud of the monster I became.

Yet, she was going to leave. And if she left, she would've told everyone. So as she was walking past me I grabbed her. I drug her through the apartment, ignoring her scratches and screaming at me to let her go. I threw her onto the bed I used to fuck her on. I held her down by the throat. I waited 'til she passed out. I was well and truly panicked. I called Mel. He faxed an NDA and told me to make sure it was signed. When she woke up, I watched her sign it. I watched and she looked at me with fear. No one had ever looked at me like that before. But it wouldn't be the last time.

Looking back, maybe I should've been more concerned that my agent had an NDA built and ready to go covering murder and domestic violence. (Not that the contract was enforceable, but she didn't know that. I think she might now. To Narya, I'm so sorry I hurt you. I know that's not enough. I'm sorry that this won't be the first apology to a woman I cared for in this reflection. None of them will be enough.)

On March twenty-first, nineteen ninety-nine, I killed Finrod Noldor. It was an accident, but no one could prove that. It was an accident, but it was still my fault. I had brought the cocaine to Círdan Nowë's afterparty. I was the one who laid it out on the tray, I was the one who handed Finrod the hundred that he'd use to snort that white powder off Círdan's expensive coffee table. He was dead within half an hour. It would've been quicker to just shoot him. It would've been kinder. The kindest thing would've been not to kill a man in front of his kid sister. But all I could do was hold her back from the body when the paramedics came. I gave her a pillow, but in her grief, I might as well have just been an invisible man. There's nothing you can say to someone after that.

So I say nothing. And then I go to base the best performance of my career so far on the event. I'm an actor after all.

GreyMan was – is – my most hated film, personally. I didn't enjoy filming, I didn't agree with certain choices from the director, and I hated most of my co-stars. I never hid that. Mel hated that I never hid it in interviews or red carpet chats designed to make people like me. He would yell at me for hours on the phone after press days when all I wanted to do was slip into a fan who hung too close, or a drink. None of that stopped the film from being a box-office success.

I was twenty-one. It was the first time in my life I didn't have to pretend to like the assholes who were old enough to buy my alcohol or get my ID forged. I didn't have to pretend that I liked fucking Isildur, no last name because he's pretentious and thinks he was as good as Cher. Even though the only reason he was in GreyMan was because his father was a Hollywood legend and he didn't need to audition for half the films he was cast for. There was none of trying to smile and be correct for the camera. Not then. I was twenty-one, invincible. I was the next biggest star in the world, and I knew it. The press knew it. My manager knew it. So you'll forgive me for not bowing down to the face of Isildur and the scourge of nepotism.

Again, I must digress.

The red carpet is the worst part of the Oscars. I've only been to one sober, and it definitely wasn't this one. In the car ride to the Dolby Theater, I had maybe fifty milligrams of cocaine. I think it's that number, the way I normally divvied up each baggie. I hadn't had a full eight ball since nineteen ninety-nine, for obvious reasons. I wasn't looking to die or disappear from my mind. I was looking to feel something other than the consistent anxiety that came with fame. Cocaine didn't help that much, truth be told, but my mind was thinking too fast for me to focus on any one terror. If I can't think about it, I can't be in it.

The second I step out of the car, the flashing is nothing short of overwhelming. Hundreds of paparazzi lined up just to snap my photo as I stepped down the carpet to the reporter area. Behind them are fans, or me or other celebrities coming behind me it didn't matter, who screamed so loud that to this day I lament forgetting to use the flesh-toned earplugs Mel had offered me.

The reporters are worse. The ones who ask questions about the film we're nominated for, most of them the exact same and banal. Who's the funniest person in the cast? Or, God forbid, besides your film, who will you be rooting for tonight? First of all, all co-stars are equally as funny. We've been trained to be charismatic as shit since the moment any of us stepped foot in L.A. Everyone is stereotypically funny. Throw a dart at the wall and they can probably make you laugh. Secondly, no one. I only want to win. I want to have a complete run of the house when it comes to the Oscars because I did what it took.

But you can't say that.

No, you have to smile and flash your teeth that you just got painfully whitened to a blinding degree the day before. You have to nod along and choose the safest option from a list of pre-selected movies you're allowed to root for. Nothing with a director under fire, nothing from an actor who is in the midst of a scandal. Compliment the underdog, people love to see the sure bet root for the first-timer. And usually, all of that works. Usually, the prep work that comes from The Ainur Talent Agency is enough.

Unless you're the unlucky bastard who finds himself on the other side of Miriel Elros' microphone.

I want to lie and say I don't remember what she asked me. I want to lie and pretend that she's not the first person to break through my drug-induced haze with a question designed to turn me into a frozen mess. Miriel knows how to find the sorest spot of an actor's life and then attack where they can't run and hide. She was a viper in a nest of rodents, and often I find myself wondering why she didn't do things like political journalism, critiquing those who actually made things happen. She'd be an excellent correspondent.

"The last time you were here, you were getting ready to lose the nineteen ninety-nine award for Best Supporting Actor in A Beautiful Life, for your role next to Finrod Noldor. How do you feel now, on the red carpet, being nominated for the same award as your late friend?"

She called him my friend. It was like a knife to the gut. Finrod was anything but my friend. We were on the same set, yes. We shared two, maybe three scenes together in a film, and he was one of those people who had the air of magmatism around him no matter what he did. But we never hung out. We never grabbed lunch or coffee. We were cordial. The only time I had ever seen him outside of the set was that night. And that ended on the opposite end of friendly.

It's easy enough to ignore the jab on losing my first nomination. The loss had four years to marinate in my head, and it no longer bothered me. But the word friend. It felt like a stone in my throat. I remember clearly, my brow furrowing as I kept the polite smile on my lips, my drug-addled brain searching for the words to say while Miriel stood, microphone held to my face. It could've been seconds or hours before I responded.

"Well," I say, hoping the panic isn't seeping into my voice. "Finrod was an amazing actor, and even more he was an amazing person. Everyone who has won this award in the past four years should be grateful to be considered in the same category as him. I know I am. Win or lose, I am just honored to be considered on the same list as an icon such as himself."

I wasn't lying. Well, not fully. I did respect Finrod, probably as much as the next person. Did I consider him an icon? Not for acting. The most notable thing he ever did was die, and he didn't really get much say in that performance, did he? He was a legend but only in the tragedy of his real life. But, it was an honor to be named best actor. It was an honor to earn the award so early in both our careers. Even though I felt smug that I got there nearly nine years before he did.

I only breathed when Miriel stepped away from me.

The actual ceremony was full of shit. Star after star rose to the stage to thank the people they'd spent the last year yelling at. Every actor on the stage had yelled at their agent or manager or even their director at least once a month for the past twelve months, only to plaster on fake smiles as soon as a camera came out and forced them to adopt the "lovable hot starlet" persona they all attempted to adopt. This isn't to say I didn't do the same thing when my name was called. I thanked the director, my fellow castmates, and god I only partially believed in. I smiled and let the stagehand lead me backstage.

When I got back to my seat I smiled for every award after mine. I clapped for the other movies that won, including when we lost Best Picture to Atlanta, a musical retold as a film. Fake smiles, continue to applaud. After all, I'd gotten what I wanted. I won the golden trophy. I still have it, it's collecting dust on my mantle at the L.A. home. I only stay there when I have to.

But the worst part of that night came at the end. The moment I was leaving early from Isildur's afterparty where I only took one more bump before settling for his shit beer and ignoring the eyes that his sister flashed at me all night. I'd won the award and I made my required appearances, all I wanted was to slink back into my bed at home. Anárion, the more talented brother of Isildur, stopped me on my way out.

"Feels like shit, doesn't it?" He asked. What the fuck happened to hello? Hi, how are you?

"Being at this party? Yes."

The bastard laughs, nodding toward the balcony door rather than the front door I was heading to. And my dumbass follows him, probably more so following the pack of cigarettes he pulls out. They're not my favorite vice but hell, when they're available.

"The Oscar is shit," he says when we get outside. I take one of his cigarettes, barely waiting for him to extend his lighter before I light it and take the first drag. Hell, but I doubt heaven would feel better. "Bunch of pretentious dickheads."

I nod, giving a bit of an exhale. "But it's everything."

"Why, do you think?" He looks genuinely curious about my answer, and for the first time, I think that maybe this conversation is a test.

"We're actors, Anárion," I say after just a moment. "If we don't get the shiny trophy and the magazine articles claiming that we're special, what makes us better than Joe Nobody working at the Walgreens down the street?"

He exhales his own puff of smoke, and the wind pushes it directly back into my face. I barely felt it at the time, peering at the man next to me as he considered my words. There's enough of a beat that we both take another drag, and I look off Isildur's balcony to the hills below. There were countless parties going on in the ridge, each twinkling light another mansion that people rarely spent time in. I couldn't wait to get back to my bed.

"I guess the money isn't enough?" He asks this as if the answer isn't obvious. I scoff, taking another long drag of the cigarette.

"We're all slaves to that here," I say. "Everything costs shit, we all gotta live, we all gotta eat." I hesitate, and for not the first I appreciate Anárion for being a better person than his brother. He simply leans against the railing, looking at me in wait. "But there's something about that fucking trophy. Not everyone can get that. Not everyone can just get up and try really hard and have a little bit of it at the end of the day. Look at L.A. No one fucking lives here because it's cheap. No one lives here because they make money. They're here because they want their name to be known by everyone in this goddamn country. And having that stupid fucking trophy puts you one, two hundred households closer to being as ubiquitous with fame as Marilyn fucking Monroe."

I light another cigarette, not even asking before I pluck it from Anárion's discarded pack on the railing next to him. He just looks at me, head cocked in consideration. For a moment, I wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. For a moment, I wondered if I had unwittingly ruined my chances of working with the plethora of connections Anárion and the entire Voronda family had within the industry. Not that I was winning any favors with Isildur. Until he straightens, snuffing his cigarette out and tossing it over the railing.

"I think you should meet someone."

[artificialconditions]

ok hi i want to get into ER but honestly mostly to see what the fuss is about Carcy according to you (/gen) so can you recommend to me some essential or fave Carter/Lucy episodes

i’m vibrating violently at this ask just hope u know that.

firstly i’ll say that the lucy era is only from season five up until mid-season 6, so if you’re starting there you’re missing out on a lot!! they are genuinely incredible. but you can probably enjoy these episodes without seeing the rest of the show if that’s your prerogative. sorry if this list is long, it’s also season 5 heavy.

05x05: masquerade. we’re building tension here babey. lucy and carter are caught up in halloween party madness and it doesn’t end well

05x06: stuck on you. more tension!! honestly a lot of the first half of s5 is them bickering and me going KISS KISS KISS. but in this one carter gets his beard stuck in carpet glue. that’s all you need to know

05x07: hazed and confused. incredible episode for the “argues like a married couple” lovers such as myself because that is exactly what they do.

05x08: the good fight. this is THE carcy episode. it’s required reading. they do some crazy shit looking for a girl’s father. carter dislocates some bones. lucy gets referred to as “the missus.” it’s everything.

05x10: the miracle worker. christmas episode!! very funny but also very heartbreaking moments. i don’t know how else to summarize it without giving away too much of the plot so just trust

05x11: nobody doesn’t like amanda lee. more genuine affection. jealous carter. that is all

05x14 & 05x15: the storm part 1 and 2. this is where noah wyle pulled the plug unfortunately and it drives me insane. but there’s some 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

05x20: power. lucy tries to use pheromones to get carter’s attention. i’m fairly certain this is also the episode where carter’s girlfriend straight up asks lucy if she’s sleeping with him SO.

i think both 05x21 (responsible parties) and 05x22 (getting to know you) touch on lucy’s adhd and her and carter butting heads about her use of adhd meds. lucy’s been on ritalin long term and the show presents this as kind of a bad thing but i don’t know enough about the science behind that to say otherwise, so warning for that message.

obligatory 06x13 & 06x14 be still my heart/all in the family mention. while all in the family makes me sob uncontrollably it is genuinely one of the best episodes of television ever made. it’s so tragic and horrible but like. you can’t Not watch it.

there’s little moments throughout but these sum up most of what makes me nuts. honestly the majority of season 5 is very carter/lucy heavy, pretty much every episode up until the storm is good if u just wanna see their journey but these are my faves. so thank you for asking and indulging me 💔💞

[hopalongfairywren]

So my villain!Puffy stuff is going to be a part of my fic rewriting the Dream SMP's ending starting from before the Las Nevadas finale, and I'm doing my best to include all the characters. (full spoilers for my fic ig but it'll be a while before I write this section.)

To summarize events leading up to this, due to Dream doing some unignorable things directly against them, the Syndicate begins hunting him throughout the main area of the SMP. This causes Niki and Puffy to accidentally run into each other. They've both significantly changed since they last saw each other, and the time away, stress of the situation, and fundamentally different views of the world lead to a very messy argument and breakup. This actually pushes Niki further into questioning her own morality and decisions and ultimately leading to more healing, but for Puffy it only continues her downward spiral as Niki was one of the only people she had an untarnished trust of and now all of her friends have betrayed her or failed to stop something terrible from happening, fueling the idea that she is soley responsible for saving the server and that she is the only person who can be morally trusted to do it. Other things happen and Puffy ends up having to lead the ceremony at Ranboo's funeral, which is much worse for her mental state because she has to deal with the fact that she couldn't stop the prison break (no one expected her to but the guilt is still there) and that Ranboo was killed by Sam, acting completely of his own volition.

The details immediately after are a little hazy as I'm still plotting out all the scenes involving Puffy. But throughout the entire story, starting with the chapter I'm currently writing, the Egg is slowly resurfacing. It begins by sending around the singal servant it has left (Skeppy), before growing powerful enough to begin preying on individual characters' weak points (Sam's Warden persona and the sense of duty that comes with it, Bad's unending love of Skeppy and weak self confidence, Puffy's paranoia and responsibility, etc.), before attempting to take out individual threats to it (Eret), before becoming a serverwide threat that prompts Dream to kidnap Tommy and escape while the rest of the members try to stop it from performing a ritual similar to the one at the Banquet. Unfortunately, this time it has successfully fractured its resistors into distrusting groups and multiple people end up getting killed in front of it (awesamdude murder toll goes up again) and the ritual begins to work. I wont bother you with my backstory for what exactly the Egg is that'll come up in the fic, but basically in this moment it wants a host body. Its 'vessel' is Bad, and Puffy tries to intercede by fatally wounding him. Unfortunately, that was a trick to drag what's inside of the Egg fully into reality with the sacrifice of its most loyal servant, and Puffy becomes the host of the Egg's being, Niki being the only people left to try and undo any of it.

sorry for the long thing I was trying to summarize the villain!Puffy stuff without going through my whole fic!

aww thats very cool I can't wait to read it! Do you have an ao3 account

[cringelordofchaos]

TW: discussion of suicidal thoughts and ideations under the cut

I have so many drafts trying to summarize this. But I always end up giving away too much.

I don't want to overshare, because while I'm not giving out any names or roles and quite frankly I haven't even given away my or their nationality, I'm not sure if they would like their experience being describes in public like this. But I need advice.

To put it simply, recently my friend has shared with me that they want to end their life. I tried to show my care as much as I could and ended up talking to them for hours, both in real life and through messages and calls. They told me they were going to do "it" this day, but I obviously didn't want that to happen. I don't find myself to be the most emotionally mature person really available, but from what I've heard simply being there for the person and hearing them out and listening to them can help. We talked back and forth and I have repeatedly asked for which specific topics they want to talk about, whether they wanted to vent, talk about their interests or just random stuff. We ended up talking about all of those things and I tried giving them some of my own advice and opinions regarding the topic of hopelessness and pain of this world that they're currently struggling with. When we had to end our call, they thanked me and said I made them feel (a bit?) better than they were before, and I'm glad for that. I would be glad to continue this cycle for however long I would need to, as long as it made them feel better. However, I don't want to make them completely emotionally reliant on me. I want them to be their own happy individual with a fulfilling life. And I'm not sure if I'm the best person to turn to- while I might be a decent listener, at the end of the day I'm just another anxious teenager that just so happens to be their friend. And while sometimes, friends simply being there for you can go a long way, I don't think I could help them entirely. I suggested they take professional help (such as asking to visit the schools psychiatrist) however they don't want to because they don't want their mom to find out about their issues (they don't have he healthiest relationship with their mom.)

I don't know what to do exactly. I want to help beyond just listening to them - but I'm afraid I can't do much - and since professional help is just not something that's currently favorable to them, due to their mom, I don't know how else to help, and I feel like If I make a single wrong move I might lose them forever.

I also brang up how people care about them more than they think they do, in response to them saying that their sibling would "probably manage without them". I was gonna say how everyone would miss them if they were gone, however that feels like manipulation, and I feel like if I say that it may make them feel like a horrible person for even having such thoughts, and they already have a lot of pressure on their plate that I would really really rather not add to their insecurities. And their life's worth should go beyond what other people think about them. And the reason for them to live should be from their own hearts content, and not other people's, right? Living just for another person, rather than living for yourself, I don't know, it doesn't sound healthy.

I dont know what to do. I just want to help them somehow. Even if I'm already helping them I want to help them more. But I don't know how to

Sorry

[cutiedwaekki]

PUPPYM DETECTIVE

CHAPTER 5 : NO MORE EXPECTATION

part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3&4

Everything seemed more logical until now, but I had the distinct impression that I was missing a part of the story to fully understand it.

So I grabbed my phone and, using the Dictaphone app, began to summarize my progress on this investigation.

2 months after the death of General Councilor Jung, I'm not giving up. I've discovered that several people were responsible for his murder. So the field of culprits has been widened, but I think I've got an idea of where to look.

Digging into the past of the three stores on the Miroh street , I discovered some amazing things:

• Felix and Changbin's bakery has been around for at least three years. The two are a married couple who make no secret of their love for each other and their fantasies about the oldest putting on weight. A little funfact is that they've been dating since high school and graduated from the same university as Jisung and me.

Felix is rather jovial and smiles like a ray of human sunshine, he's the one who manages the kitchen part of their bakery while Changbin although I haven't had the chance to talk to him for long is described by Jisung as a noisy but funny guy. My question every time I see him is if this guy can still walk with his weight, i mean ... he's huge ! I've always seen him sitting on a seat, a chair (or two lately) but never standing.I have the impression that if one of the two hides something these definitely Changbin but that Felix covers it, I do not see another explanation

Let's move on to Minho's cat's cafe, he and his brother are both chaebols of the great CEO Yang, who seems to have a preference for his little brother since he's his illegitimate son born out of wedlock- my god, it's such a cliché.

Anyway, I tried to contact my brother so that he could tell me more about Jeongin But, but I didn't find anything very interesting: just a random college student, he had good grades and seemed rather popular in his class. Minho, on the other hand, is like a ghost who never existed. I looked up "Lee Minho" and even "Yang Minho" on the Internet, but nothing ... no leads and there was no way I ask my father any information, I'd rather die then talk to that piece of sh-

I'm sorry ... Well, to get back to them, I haven't found anything suspicious about them, but their father is. PDG Yang, is also known as the rich corrupt entrepreneur who puts his own interests before those of others and who thinks that money is the solution to everything.

In short: a jerk.Their father is justly interesting with his various projects, including Project 143, which consists of building more factories to increase supply and export internationally. Except that the factory is supposed to be built not far from Stayville, so it would be a death sentence for the town's inhabitants, or else relocate them elsewhere than where many of them were born and raised.

How do I know? Jisung was given a file and was talking about bribing the town councillor and the mayor to get the project accepted. Of course Jisung refused, and he assured me that Mayor Bahng would too.

So if the Lee/Yang brothers have anything to do with this story, it's probably to do with leir perr and project 143. Also, on the day councilman Jung was killed, Jelngin launched his last lesson of the day... pretty strange, isn't it?

Anyway, I didn't want to talk about him, although there are things to say: Hwang Hyunjin. A former world-famous model who quit everything overnight to move to Stayville to open a bed'n breakfast.

His case is also a mystery, because from what I could find he had an impeccable career without the slightest scandal, and the only one he had was linked to the fact that he was attached to a mafia branch and that his modeling agency was precisely a means of laundering money.

Honestly, I'm not surprised, he's a real jerk who thinks he can do whatever he wants, so if he's a former mafioso, it's the height of cliché here! Maybe his goal is to launder money here away from the mafioso and far from the prying eyes . Which explains his relationship with Mayor Bahng!

Speaking of him, I find this mayor rather suspicious, and I'm not just saying that because I voted for their Daengmo mascot! Kind of a long story bjt as joke in Stayville the mascots always present themselves at the ekections if the candidate ever sucks, this year it was Daengmo, a plush dog

In fact, although he's a fair mayor and allows stayville a good economic situation, I find him far too easily manipulated, just look at how Hyunjin wrapped him around his finger with sex and food! He was no longer the athletic, fair-minded mayor everyone knew him to be, he was now just a walking pile of corruptible fat and out of shape , manipulated by a potentate ex-mafioso with a bastard's back.

Then I say that but i do get a little out of shape ... well little, better say's a lot. I had to ask Jisung to lend me one of his jeans because mine don't zip anymore. Oh and now i just can't stop eating ! it seems that as you get older you gain weight more easily but I'm only 23 , I'm not that old, am I?

But it's not my fault, Jisung always brings back food when he comes home from work and always feeds him when I'm concentrating on the investigation. Maybe I've put on weight because of Jisung's case, but at least he's become much more cuddly with me! It was a sort of routine where after each day we'd sit on the sofa and hug each other for a long time without saying a word, as if this simple embrace was enough to make us forget our daily lives.

Poor Jisung, he was so closely involved in all this that he couldn't do anything about it. I feel sorry for him, who didn't ask for anything, but found himself sitting on the desk of someone who'd been murdered.I miss him, if only he didn't have a charity gala in the next village.

Yet someone knocked and rang the doorbell again and again. Curious, I pulled on a sweater and opened the door.Oh no, not him again.

-"Seung"

- "I'm sorry sir, I have nothing to do with you" I said as I closed the door on my "father".

- "Seungmin please, it's important"

- "It's always important with you "

- "It's about Jisung!"

My heart caught a beat, I took fright and reluctantly decided to open the door.

-"Is everyone here? Chan asked shyly.

-"Idiot, you can see that someone is still missing.

- "Hey, we didn't talk to you fatso!" defended Hyunjin.

- "Fatso?! How dare you call me like that you little-".

- "Eurk you're spitting on me, I'm sure I'll get fat because of you're saliva" Changbin would have stood up to teach Hyunjin a lesson, but he'd eaten too much and couldn't get up from his chair without being humiliated again by the tall blond.

-"Stop your immature bickering, you look like damn kids !" exclaimed Minho, sighing heavily.

-"I remind you that we're not here out of friendship" confided Hyunjin, who then turned on Minho.

-"Oh no, I've been dreaming of becoming friends with you" cried Changbin falsely as the three of them began to bicker, leaving Chan confuse on how to deal with the situation.

-"Wow, calm down, I remind you that the situation is critical, that's why we're all here! So if we can put our differences aside, that would be great!" said Felix supportively, arriving with a feast of salted muffins which he placed on the table before taking a seat.

-"You're right Lixie sorry" said shyly Changbin, placing a tender kiss on his husband's cheek.

- "Ew ... love " said Hyunjin, earning himself a confused look from Chan, who ended up covering it with a kiss a few minutes

-"Well, he's going to be late, isn't he? As usual, I suppose" accused Linho, who was impatiently tapping his foot while looking at the door.

-"I remind you that you're the one who's close to him, so you should know better than anyone whether he's on time or not", Felix commented almost dryly.

But just as Minho was about to retort, the door suddenly opened, letting the breathless latecomer in.

-"Ah, here he is!"

- "Come on Jisung, you're exaggerating, we said 6.30pm not 7pm! Chan said in exasperation, which made Hyunjin laugh.

- "Sorry, I had to sort something out, I remind you that I live with the enemy"

- "Oh Lixie that's sweet, he calls his boyfriend an enemy~"

- "He's not my boyfriend, you don't know how hard it is to put him on the wrong track, he's too smart for that shit!" Declare Jisung before taking his place on the last remaining seat.

-"I find it amazing that he still hasn't suspected you, I mean, you're the ideal suspect but the idiot still hasn't noticed!"

- "stop it Minho, I'm not happy about treating him like that either, but he can't harm our project like that!"

- "It's true that M.Han is our leader" teased Hyunjin, earning a glare from the concerned.

-"Enough chatter, let's recap the facts"

- "So you're sure that even if he has several leads Seungmin won't be able to trace them back to all of us?"

-"I promise you Felix, I've known him since we were kids, he thinks I'm innocent of everything! He didn't even consider me as a potential suspect!"

Everyone looked at each other in astonishment before laughing loudly.

-"And then, thanks to Changbin's plan, he spends more time digesting all that food than thinking!"

-"See ? I bet you must be excited by that" then added Felix who hastened to put his hand on the belly of his lover

Changbin then smiled proudly as Felix congratulated him by offering him a cookie.

- "So we just have to lay low until it calms down?"

- "Channie, you don't understand... this pseudo detective won't give up until he finds someone to blame"

- "But he can't know it's us!-.... but who will it be?"

Everyone reflected before Minho had a sudden idea

- "Isn't it rumored that while he was dating Choi Yena, he was also sleeping with his brother Choi San?"

Everyone nodded, seeming to already know the outcome of this plan.

Poor detective puppy m, things weren't turning out the way he'd expected

-"No i don't want to hear you !"

-"Seugmin i beg you to hear what i have to say , i have proof that Jisung is involved in the death of the municipal councilor!"

but Seungmin didn't want to hear anything, he felt like that night, where his father lectured him for long hours on the dangers of homosexuality after he had sex with Jisung.

Because of that and although he had only half listened to it, he had trouble pairing up with the quokka despite their shared common feelings.

So at that moment he felt this mixed feeling, he did not know which camos this ranger ... that of his father who abandoned him or his best friend / crush?