#{just in case yall had doubts}

[pocket-gems]

I recently discovered the (current) owner of this gem deleted all of the art pieces I made despite being told he was happy with it. I'm posting them so they don't turn into lost media, there's 2 pieces I drew that became lost already :"/

And this older piece before I owned the gem and was still allowed character liberty

[werewolfpurfect]

Around a month ago, I finally made the decision to buy Loop Earplugs, and so far they've been a lifesaver. Not only are my sensory migraines getting better, but also I can SLEEP on long travels, which was never a possibility for me before! Truly magnificent!

[bisexualnamjoonie]

dearedwardteach 🔄 bisexualnamjoonie

[acid-ixx]

oooh so did we divorce Bruce, or is this an infidelity type of situation?

a loving family, an unpalatable desire: first meeting (unofficial)

— masterlist ! ; related post !

a/n: a tad bit nsfw. if this sounds messy, spare me. i'm running on like 4 hours of sleep and the will of a thirsty man in front of an oasis. i told yall im going insane for this plotline. ofc a&a still has my heart but I also love to occasionally write for smth else in the sidelines. send in more asks yall hehe.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

definitely an infidelity type of situation, anon! you see, the affair was caused by all mere coincidence. you were to attend with bruce in one of lex luthor's extravagant show of a gala, hold his arm for a brief moment when you walk out of the limousine, only to be abandoned right in the middle of the enormous room.

of course, the right reaction was to be pissed, to badmouth the very man who decided to court and entertain others in front of you; but you chose to stay silent, biting back choked tears by stumbling over the buffet table, only to be met with stupid, overbearing paparazzi and journalists.

so when clark kent rushes in to save you from stuttering over the dozens of microphones and cameras shoved right in your face, granting them access to your pathetic sobs— it's only right that your first reaction was to lean against his body, dismissing the hushed, harsh gossips of journalists.

it was at a time where you're not aware of his identity of superman. well, bruce barely permits you to enter the batcave, only if you stubbornly pester alfred does he let you, only to kick you, his darling spouse right out the moment you step on the cold, hard floors of the lair.

so it's not... a bad thing, right? your husband had a child with another woman, raised him as his own, didn't even bother to notify you with his infidelity— so is it your fault if you slowly start to fall for a man who promises you the world? who actually has the ability to give you the world in the palm of your hands? whose kid lets you pamper him without any fight?

sure, he's coping with... the loss of his previous wife but you're such a perfect spouse, so undeniably attractive, captivating in the hearts of many. your distant eyes, the way you bite the inside of your cheeks, the way your body sways back and forth as if begging for someone, your husband, to provide you a pillar of support in the suffocating heat of paparazzi.

he could be that pillar, could be your support.

when he first came up to you, his intentions weren't to obtain gossip about the oh-so silent spouse of bruce wayne. he didn't even want to acknowledge your marital status, palms already taking your wrist just so he could lead you off to somewhere quieter.

"it's an interview," he whispers an excuse to your reddened ears. but the buzz of his breath, the warmth, the caged arm on your waist tells you it's more than that.

but you don't fight back, you'd rather be anywhere than be the spotlight of a media that eats you up, makes you doubt your marriage even more.

so you're grateful that someone came to your rescue.

this would be the first time you ever saw someone as a savior, and it's not superman, no. it's clark kent, your resident, widowed, journalist.

and for clark's case, you warm his bed better than anything else. you allow clark this sense of respite, a break from heroic activities. allow him to be human, just as he allows you to play your fantasies of being a house spouse; you're perfect for each other.

to hell with useless marriage papers that don't even give bruce a sense of obligation to act as your husband, right? what can it do, when you're absolutely smitten with the current life you're living?

the first stages of your infidelity with clark is confusing, but very much welcomed into your already hectic life.

firstly, you convince yourself, it was all mere 'emotional cheating'. you began texting clark, he does too. an occasional greeting in messages, a passing congratulation for something, then the next it was good morning messages, 'have you eaten breakfast yet?, 'how'd the appointment go?'.

you don't know when it started, when your feelings started, when you began an intimate to romantic relationship with the man— all you knew was that the moment he revealed his superhero identity was the moment he decided to bed you for the night, the moment you grant the man, now your partner, access to every part of your depraved body, made him make you beg for more, giving him all the time in the world to kiss your imperfections, to fondle sensitive parts long untouched, to leave lovebites deeper and darker than the ones you caught bruce with.

you can't help it, he's unknowingly handsome, especially when he invites you over to his ma and pa's farm the next day, pretending to not notice the way your eyes hungrily flit over his topless body, sweat and budding pecs encased in a muscled form. over the course of dinner, you kept biting your lips, warm cheeks at the implications that clark merely wanted to sit next to you just so he could handfeed you, something about him being prideful that you'd definitely enjoy this week's harvest... but his fingers circling your thighs just seems to get you brain all haywired.

yet you stay, and continue visiting for long hours either way, enjoying the man's attention.

you know it's wrong, he knows it's wrong. but the way his son, jon looks at you like you mean the world, the way he's slowly starting to heal the longer you stay over at his place makes clark want to... what's the word? ah, he wants to turn you into his loving trophy spouse. all you need to do is provide jon with all the support in the world.

as for bruce... well, him and his family can deal with your absence for the first few months. but when the lingering feeling of emptiness becomes too much, when bruce no longer feels the worried gazes, or when dick can't hear anymore laughter in one of the supposed 'barren' rooms, or when tim's security systems tracked a missing device, one now in a completely different city.

that's when they start to yearn for someone they purposely let go

[mariasont]

Could you do a story where Y/N Is taken in a hostage situation and we see more of a dark hotch? like that early episode where hotch and reid are hostages in the hospital?

TOO EMOTIONAL - A.H

a/n: thank you so much for requestin <3 i hope this is what you were wanting!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: honestly yall i feel like this is way darker than anything i've written so far, not sure if its good or not but alas, mentions of blood, violence, unsub threatens reader with a knife and a lighter, mentions of sexual assualt (it doesnt happen just mentions of it), unsub cuts open readers shirt, hotch is a dick for a plot, hurt/comfort

wc: 1.4k

Your vision was blurred, you fought to focus as dried blood flaked from your lashes with each heavy blink. You swallowed a cough, the floor's cold concrete punishing your knees. The ties around your wrists and ankles were merciless, digging into your flesh. You tried to focus on the sounds around you — the drip-drop of water, the soft wail of distant sirens.

You caught glimpses of Hotch, his distinct cologne mingling with the warehouse's musty air. He was agonizingly close yet not close enough to touch. The unsub's footsteps were barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Only three cases in, and it seemed the universe was conspiring to reroute your career choice.

Frantically, you attempted to wipe your face on your shirt as the footsteps ceased before you and Hotch. The man was a ghastly figure, burns cutting from one side of his face to the other. You couldn't breathe.

"What a day to have feds come knocking." His voice was hoarse, fingers absently playing with a lighter.

"You know, they say the most intelligent criminals are the ones who don't get caught, yet here we are," Hotch said, his chin defiantly up, words sharp and calculated.

Suddenly, the unsub was right there, his disfigured face uncomfortably close, the heat from the lighter singeing your skin. His breath was a hot, sticky assault, and you fought the instinct to flinch.

"Smart men don't leave witnesses, and I intend to be very smart about this."

The foundations of your training flitted across your consciousness, the methodologies for keeping control of the situation, but they sifted through your fingers like said, rendering you paralyzed.

"Take her then. She's new, inexperienced. Probably more trouble than she's worth." Hotch's voice was cold, jarring like a slap to the face, his expression empty of emotion.

You strained to keep your face impassive, your eyes darting to Hotch, pleading for his attention. Your breaths were shallow, scarcely there. He had to be bluffing. You felt sick. The unsub shifted his weight, scrutinizing you both, edging closer to hotch, no doubt with suspicion.

The unsub laughed, a cold and calculating sound as he circled around Hotch. "You expect me to believe you'd turn on your own that quickly? I'm not a fool."

"Look at her and tell me what her worth is to me." Hotch's voice was even, almost bored. "She's a liability. Too emotional, too soft." 

His words were flung carelessly, yet they landed with precision, straight into your chest. Your teeth punished the inside of your cheek.

The remarks were like sharp barbs to your chest, instilling a hollow feeling as you attempted to convince yourself that the wetness on your lashes was anything but tears. His assessment was not unfounded. Your empathy, your sensitivity, traits deemed too tender for the harsher realities of your job, were now being used against you. Hotch had always been an exception, until now.

"Well, I could see her worth in other ways." The man's words oozed contempt, his gaze crawling over you in a way that threatened to turn your stomach. "I bet that's how she got the job in the first place, huh?"

"What do you think?" Hotch's laugh was a sinister match to the unsub's. He tilted his head in your direction. "Look at her. That's all she's been good for."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body turning as much as the ties would permit in Hotch's direction. You could almost hear your heart shattering, could feel it in Hotch's inability to face you. Was this a plan or had he truly discarded you?

You never deluded yourself into thinking you were Hotch's favorite, his reserved interactions with you made that abundantly clear. In fact, you were probably his least favorite. He had kept you at an arm's length, while seemingly forging bonds with the others that didn't seem to extend to you.

This was all within reason, given your inexperience and younger age, but the disdain lacing his words was unexpected, shredding through any pretense of professional detachment.

Hotch had never wanted you on the team, it was Rossi who had vouched for you. And now, look where that got you both.

Maybe this was all deserved.

"Then you won't mind if I try her out for myself?" The unsub's insinuation felt like a perverse validation of Hotch's doubts. 

A low hum escaped the unsub as he closed the distance, his gaze predatory. You stilled, breath caught as he produced a knife from his pocket, skimming your cheek just shy of cutting. You were scared and you were scared to show it. Desperately, you looked to Hotch, the blade now hovering precariously close to your sternum.

Hotch wouldn't look at you. You wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something, but that was all shoved to the bottom of your throat as the unsub sliced down the middle of your shirt, exposing your chest and compelling your gaze to it. Tears of humiliation prickled your eyes. How could Hotch let this happen to you?

The unsub's clammy grip clung to your waist, your lips trembling as you prepared for the worst. You closed your eyes, escaping to your house in your mind — tea brewing, fireplace going — anywhere but here.

A sudden splatter to your face jolted you back, eyes opening in alarm you saw Hotch's eyes, not the unsub's.

"You're okay, you're okay," Hotch murmurs. 

The words did little to comfort you, his hands moving blindly to release the binds at your wrist and ankles. Looking down, you see the unsub, knife through his back, blood pooling around him. Hotch's hands are on your wrists, his thumbs massaging away the sting. 

When your hand touches your face, you feel the splatter from earlier, coming back away with a smear of blood on your fingertips. 

Your voice felt like it was a prisoner inside yourself, words and sounds slipping past you like ghosts. A persistent ringing in your ears muffled all but the pungent scent of the warehouse, which clawed at your senses. 

You felt the jostle of hands, the motion of being lifted, a sensation so distant it barely registered. The world was a smear of lights and faces — the team showing up, the paramedics — until it slowly came into focus. 

You barely registered that Hotch was speaking to you, his words indistinct and muffled.

"What?" you asked, your speech slow to form and blurred at the edges.

You had a jacket over the front of you, his jacket, covering your exposed chest.

Hotch's eyes were pools of worry as he grasped at your hand. It was weird, the feeling of his hand in yours. You realized that was the first time you had felt it. 

"More water?"

You could only nod, and he promptly fetched a bottle, twisting it open and placing it in your hand. You took a small sip. 

"It's too loud," you mumbled, you were aware you weren't making sense.  You shifted to face him, your knee grazing his thigh. "Did you mean those things you said?"

"Of course I didn't mean it," Hotch replied quickly, his gaze intense. "You thought I meant that?"

Your gaze dropped to your lap, voice faltering. "I don't know... I wasn't sure, I mean, no, but I just... I don't feel very useful, and this whole mess, it's because of me and I —,"

Tears interrupted you, your hands fumbling to hide them. Hotch reached out, gently turning your face to his, thumb brushing away the tears. 

"Hey, look at me. Don't say that. This isn't your fault. Nothing I said back there was true. I needed to distract him, had to make him concentrate on you."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying like this," you stammered between sobs. 

"You don't have to apologize. You're crying because you've been through a lot. Just breathe, take your time."

You managed a wobbly smile. "You hit the nail on the head with the too emotional part," you sniffled.

Hotch gave a small chuckle. "Your compassion, your sensitivity, it's what sets you apart as an agent, in fact, it makes you an outstanding one."

You were close now, your gaze inadvertently drawn to his lips. You could kiss him if you wanted. Not that you were in the right headspace or that it was appropriate. But you could've.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so glad you're okay!" You were barreled into a hug, the familiar voice and blur of color of Penelope enveloping your senses.

Hotch cautioned, "Watch her head." 

With Penelope's hands around you, you found yourself looking over her shoulder, locking eyes with Hotch. His gaze held a new light, a recognition that maybe, just maybe you weren't Hotch's least favorite agent after all.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme

join my taglist here!

[gravedwe11er]

Got hit by a Mecha AU Swerve angst idea in the middle of the night, and I had to put it down on a page. Based on the @keferon Mecha AU and inspired by all the amazing Swerve/Blurr art I see around (seriously, yall are giving me so many ideas and I love it).

More often than not, nowadays, Swerve feels like an imposter in his own frame. His time spent as a human was so short, just an insignificant speck compared to the eons of his real life, his real lifespan, and yet...

Those few scant human years are the realest he can remember feeling.

The medics said it took fifteen cycles for anyone to knock on his door, to even notice his absence. And when someone eventually did, it was just- his boss. One of the engines was giving them trouble, and they needed all servos on deck. That's all.

None of the bots who he talked to every day, the ones he’d worked side by side with for years noticed he was gone. None of the people who would laugh at his jokes and drink with him at the bar had a single thought to spare for him. Nobody missed him, until they needed him for something.

Glum thoughts in the dead of night are one thing. It’s another thing entirely to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it’s all true.

So of course Swerve figured out the holoform thing again. Sure, it’s still kind of risky, but now that he’s actually doing it on purpose, he’s been taking a few precautions – a good recharge, a full fuel tank, and an automated message to be sent off to the medics after a set period of time, in case he knocks himself out again. Actually, he nearly managed just that, the first time he tried it, overtaxing himself almost to the point of shutdown. The keyword being nearly, though! It did little to weaken his resolve, and after a few more tries, he now has a whole system figured out, one that won’t damage his processor.

Or, it probably won’t, anyway. He’s not about to go ask; someone higher up might order him to stop, which-

Yeah, he’s not doing that.

On this ship, Swerve’s got nothing. He might as well be nothing - he’s a trained metallurgist working as a common mechanic, amongst people who barely even know he exists. On Earth, he’s- well. It’s not like he was exactly a social butterfly, but people invited him for shitty cafeteria coffee, a few pilots liked to stop by for a chat sometimes, and if he fell asleep at his desk, someone would come shake him awake within an hour or two.

On Earth, he has Blurr. And that’s not something he’s willing to give up.

Swerve shutters his optics in his tiny room on the ship, and surrenders gladly to the pulling sensation overtaking his processor as his holomatter generator struggles to cross such a vast distance. Then, with a crackle and a fizz of static across his neural net, he’s gone.

When he opens his eyes, it’s to the sight of Blurr’s expansive private hospital suite, with the man nowhere to be seen. He’s been hoping for that, though- as a general rule, he tries to catch the pilot between press conferences and physical therapy sessions, so nobody starts asking questions about the dead man loitering around a celebrity’s rooms. Blurr has enough problems as it is.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait for long. Soon enough, Swerve hears several pairs of footsteps approaching the door, and he ducks into the bedroom, keeping out of sight. “Again, thank you so much for the well-wishes,” carries through the walls, barely loud enough to be audible – Blurr’s voice, he thinks. The ‘business’ voice. “But I really have to go now. The doctor will be visiting soon, you understand.”

There are polite sounds of assent, an exchange of a few more pleasantries before the steps retreat back down the hallway, followed by the quiet whoosh of the front door opening. Cautiously, Swerve peeks out of the bedroom.

Blurr stands in the doorway, back straight, with a bright, practiced smile on the visible half of his face. The other, the one with scars and still healing skin grafts, is covered by an elaborate mask, shaped to look like his mech’s helm. He gives the people outside one final wave, and clicks the door shut.

Then he turns around, notices Swerve and slumps.

Now wobbling slightly, the injured pilot leans his back against a wall, gingerly peeling the mask off of his face to revealed reddened, irritated skin. The smile he turns on Swerve is completely different from before, small and tired and slightly pained.

To anyone else, it would look like an insult. To Swerve, it’s a precious thing, a gift the star shares with very few people in his life - honesty.

“Swerve, hello!” Blurr greets him, sounding slightly out of breath. He’s getting the best care money can buy, but even that only goes so far- recovery will slow and painful, and not everything will go back to how it was. There are some scars the pilot will carry for the rest of his life, and just the thought makes Swerve’s holographic heart ache.

“Hi,” he answers enthusiastically, crossing the room to go help the injured man, only to get waved off.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I need to build up my stamina again.”

Swerve frowns a little, but steps away again. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just be careful! You can lean on me if you need to, yeah? I don’t want you to hurt yourself, so if-“

“Swerve!”, Blurr laughs, interrupting his awkward rambling, and he can feel his holoform’s cheeks going red. “It’s fine, really. I’ll ask you if I need help, alright?”

“Alright,” he mutters into the collar of his shirt and follows after the man, ready to support him if he stumbles. Blurr leads them to his bedroom, laying down on the mattress with a pained grimace, once again waving off any of Swerve’s offers to help. Instead, the man pats one side of the bed in clear invitation, and Swerve does his best to pretend his face isn’t looking like an overripe tomato as he sits, their hands almost touching. Judging by Blurr’s teasing little grin, he fails miserably, but- it made Blurr smile. He’d say that more than makes up for it.

They talk, for as long as Swerve’s holoform generator allows and perhaps a little bit beyond that. He asks after Blurr’s recovery, listens to the pilot bemoan the weakness of his atrophied muscles and endless physical therapy sessions. Learns more about the constant press releases, the pressure from command to return back to duty and perform his star pilot act once again.  They talk about anything and everything the man wants to share, from the important to the mundane.

In turn, Blurr asks him about his life, his day, his work on the ship. Which, here’s the thing- he didn’t really notice much it before his coma, but nobody else actually asks about him. Swerve talks a lot, and sometimes, other bots will even listen, but they never ask.

Except for Blurr. Blurr always asks now, and Swerve always talks and talks and talks, and the pilot never seems to mind. Sometimes, he wishes he knew how to express it, to show the man just how much it means to him, but- in a rare twist of events, the words never manage to leave his mouth.

Doesn’t make it any less true, though.

Every small, honest smile, every real, slightly ugly laugh he gets out of the man makes Swerve’s holographic heart beat overtime. He feels so happy, so at peace when by the man’s side, and he never wants to leave.

But he has to. Eventually, it’s always time to go, his systems warning him of impending shutdown and he hates it, he hates it so much, but he says his goodbyes. Blurr’s understanding about it, of course, and the pilot’s cheeky little wave is the last thing Swerve sees before he closes his eyes and disappears.

When he unshutters his optics, it’s to the sight of his empty, windowless habsuite.  Getting up from his berth, he feels a fleeting stab of vertigo – some echo of his human self’s instinct, warning him of a dangerous height, which, huh. That’s been happening more and more often. Something to ask the medics about, perhaps.

Then again, why bother. It’s not like he doesn’t know what the answer would be.

He misses Blurr already. Misses the warmth of Earth’s sun and the warmth of companionship, the warmth of a soft human touch. Misses his false life and false body, and the very real joy it brings him.

Sometimes, he wishes he never woke up, instead living out his fake human existence in blissful ignorance until his spark eventually guttered from the strain. Occasionally, he wishes he was human. Actually human, not just the holoform- muscle and bone and sinew, just like the rest of them, just like Blurr. It’s clear he doesn’t belong amongst his own kind, so… maybe it’d be better that way.

Most of the time though, he just wants to be on Earth; true frame, fake body, it doesn’t matter. He wants to hold Blurr in his servos, wants to feel like he matters to somebody, wants to-

He’s not really sure what he wants, exactly. He just knows it’s not this.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

CODE L-O-V-E

Chapter One: crUSh

❥ ATEEZ x fem reader

Preparing to be an idol isn't easy, but you didn't expect it to be. Endless hours of practice, unlimited amounts of pressure from every eye on you, stereotypes to fit yourself into, all of that was expected. What was not expected, however, is the co-workers you can't seem to shake.

➽-❥in this chapter: Your first few days with the official status "pre-debut" go... semi-smoothly(?) and you find yourself bonding with your members and your co-workers. (Mingi, Yeosang, and Seonghwa focused with appearances from San, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung.)

➯a/n: what can i say... seriously what can i say to make myself look sane lmao BUT YALL VOTED ON THIS AND IT WAS OVERWHELMINGLY "yeas", so enjoy it ya filthy animals! this is just the tippy top of the iceberg, buckle up

♫ "The code is L-O-V-E!" ♫

✫彡wordcount: 10.5k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: SLOW burn yandere

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: SLOW BURN, yall this is so slow im warning you, korean culture, brief description of a light injury, self doubt, ateez don't know what the words "personal space" mean, falling fast and hard, playful teasing, yandere tendencies are just a whisper in this chapter but they'll quickly start YELLING 🚩

MDNI

➯a/n 2: this is a bit different than my previous stories because the life of a kpop idol is very public, and thus a lot of information has to be known about the reader(who is becoming an idol) but i also want all of my stories to be as inclusive as possible !! so here is the baseline information: reader is 22, no description of race or appearance in general other than shorter than hwa and mingi, from a war-torn country(unspecified, more to come later), has distant relatives in korea (again, unspecified: related by marriage or adoption is probably the case), speaks fluent korean(as well as english and some chinese), is a musical prodigy, and is generally ambi-verted and a natural leader

✩index: sunbae(nim) - a senior or mentor higher in the social hierarchy and having more experience than you. hubae(nim) - someone with less experience than you. unnie - a casual term for women to call another older than them. hyung - a casual term for males to call another older than them. ssi - someone on the same level as you but slightly older or younger. nim - used at the end of someone's name or title to show respect. ahjumma - a middle aged woman.

dialogue not spoken in korean will be italics, singing/rapping will be romanized and bold, texts or writing will be smaller.

with all of that finally out of the way... let the journey begin !

⋆.ೃ:･달려가 CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

The beginning of the rest of your life is behind this door.

     You're finally losing your training wheels and moving into the big leagues so to speak, even though the company you now officially work for is relatively small. One year, six months, and seven days after you were accepted, you were properly set to debut.

    You were bouncing off of the walls at the news last night, nearly unable to sleep from your excitement. So why, now, are you standing infront of the door to the practice room unable to move?

    Jisu, your manager, informed you that the group that was being built would be called 'crUSh'. And that was the name on the little plaque next to the room.

    "Is it locked?"

    "Oh my god!" You yell, startled from your trance as you quickly turn to face the voice. 

    A few long steps away is an imposingly tall man that you immediately recognize as Song Mingi from the few times he'd came to help trainees with their rap and dance.

    "I'm so sorry," you bow repeatedly, making the man chuckle, "you startled me."

    "It's okay," he offers softly as he extends his hand, "Mingi, ATEEZ."

   "Ah, nice to formally meet you," you shake his hand eagerly, hoping to make a good impression — minus the fact that he had seen you having a staring contest with a door. "Ye (Y/n), crUSh."

    "You're the first one to get here I think," he takes a look into the empty room as he joins your side, his arm brushing against your shoulder, "should I get the keys? They should have unlocked it-"

    Before he can walk away, you muster up the courage to admit, "I haven't tried the door yet."

   "Uh? Well why not?"

    You look down at the floor as he looks down at you, awaiting your answer as you bite your cheek, "it still doesn't feel real."

   He makes a noise of understanding, nodding as he inspects you casually, "how long have you been a trainee, Ye-ssi?"

   "One year, six months, and seven days." He raises his eyebrows at the quickness with which you answer, making you laugh a little and a joke, "but who's counting, right?"

    He smiles at you before looking to the door again, "well, I think you've more than earned this then, right?" He turns the doorknob and swings the door open slowly. "Welcome to KQ, officially," he can't help but smile wider as you step in hesitantly, giving him another bow as you pass.

     There's a sparkle in your eyes that doesn't go unnoticed by your new co-worker. The same sparkle he sees in Hongjoongs eyes when he's producing, in Yunho when he's dancing, in all of them while they perform. The glint of passion.

     "Mingi-ya!!"

    He's a bit sad to see the shine in your eyes gone when you blink at the sound, turning away from admiring the room to face him, "ah, I'm sorry, Mingi-nim, I probably kept your members waiting on you."

    "Don't worry about it," he waves you off with a chuckle, "Wooyoung is on his fourth coffee so I had to get away before he blew out my ear drums."

    It takes you a few fleeting seconds before you fully translate what he said, and then you hold your hand over your mouth to stop the snort of laughter that leaves you. He leans against the doorway with a grin, looking you over again.

    "Song Mingi! Where are you? Don't make me come after you!"

    "Ah, well," he begins as he pushes off the wall and reaches for your hand again, "I should go before they come looking and bombard you. If you need anything, our practice room is just two doors over. I look forward to seeing what you can do."

    "Thank you, Mingi-nim," you shake his hand again and bow, "I'll do my best."

    "I don't doubt it."

   He spins to leave you to your own devices, catching himself leaning back before he goes, "and Ye-ssi?"

   "Uh?" You look up to him as you take your small backpack off, already itching to warm up.

    "You don't have to call me that," he flashes you a gummy smile that almost makes you swoon, "Mingi-ssi is okay with me. We both worked hard to get here."

    "Ah, okay, okay," you nod quickly, not wanting to offend him by being overly formal, "thank you, Mingi-ssi."

⋆.ೃ:･CAN'T STOP MY CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

     "Let's go girls!" Jisu claps from the middle of the room, watching the seven of you run around in circles as you sing to the songs blasting on the stereo. "C'mon, push yourselves! Sunji, I can't hear you!"

      The young girl infront of you, who you've already lapped once, is clearly struggling. As are a few others — but the youthful girl tugs at your heart strings. Choi Sunji is the youngest of the group, only turning 17 in a few months. Everyone falls somewhere in the 25-19 age group besides her.

    Which makes it sadder to see her falling behind on the very first day. "Sunji, let's go! You got this!" Wu Bongcha, the eldest shouts over the music before resuming her singing. The twenty five year old is the only other foreigner, which you immediately bonded over.

You all recognized one another from your days spent as trainees, but you never really spoke to one another; too busy trying to secure yourselves a spot in the first girl group that KQ would debut.

"Don't give up!" Second eldest, Lee Aeyoung is next to chime in, though she's struggling herself.

Sunji doesn't give up, but is instead made to forfeit as she trips and skids along the floor on her knees.

"Oh no!"

"Oh, fuck!"

Jisu rushes to her side, as do you. Bongcha runs and cuts off the music, and then joins the rest of them in staring — not knowing what to do.

"Are you okay?" Jisu asks softly as she rubs the girls back, taking a glance at her knees and hissing, "oh, I'm sorry, Sunji. Here, here come sit down."

You wrap the girls arm around your shoulders and help her to the bench at the back of the room as you asses the damage. It's nothing that will keep her from walking, but it will definitely cause the girl some pain as she does so. Her knee caps are red and littered with scratches from the friction; and you can only be thankful that the floor is smooth.

You can see unshed tears lining her eyes, and you pat her shoulder with a pout, "do you need anything?"

"Uhm," she sniffs, "could you get me a water, please?"

"Of course, I'm on it." You dash out of the door, making a bee line for the refrigerator at the end of the hall, hearing your manager tell everyone to take ten.

You fill your arms with waters from the stocked fridge, having noticed only a few of the others brought their own. You had always been provided water in the trainee building, so you aren't shocked that this isn't any different.

You stop a few steps from the door, still for a moment before you turn back around and go two doors down.

The door is cracked open, and you can hear light chatter from within. You don't see him through the window, but you hear the deep rumble of his voice.

You slip in unnoticed until you speak up, "excuse me."

Four pairs of eyes are on you at once, confused as to what you're doing in their practice room practically folding youself in half with how deep your bow is. "Hello, I'm very sorry to interrupt," you begin to ramble, holding the cold waters for your members close to your chest as you face the floor, "ah, Mingi-ssi, you said to let you know if we needed anything..."

"Yeah, of course," he replies quickly before speaking to the others, "this is Ye (Y/n), the early bird." You don't have time to digest the fact that he told them all about you, you simply give them another bow, this time smaller. "What can I help with?"

"You see, one of our members fell while we were running and she scraped her knees up pretty badly. I was wondering if there might be a first aid kit around? I- I would look for it myself but we're only on a ten minute break and I want to get her cleaned up before we start again so she doesn't fall behind-"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Mingi chuckles softly, standing from his resting spot on the floor, "there's one in the bathrooms, I'll show you."

"Ah, thank you so much, Mingi-nim!" You thank him profusely as you follow him out of the room, leaving the three remaining men in shocked silence.

"That was cute," Wooyoung finally breaks the quiet, "looks like Mingi got himself a puppy," he laughs loudly, standing up as well and stretching his arms above his head.

"She seemed sweet, you see all the waters she was carrying?" Seonghwa smiles as he follows suit, recalling the way you held the bottles to your chest.

"Yeah, and so many formalities, you can tell she hasn't been in Korea long, she was so afraid to offend us. Ah," Hongjoong sighs wistfully, "remember when Xikers were like that? Now it's 'Hyung! Hyung, buy me lunch!' Gosh, they grow up so fast." His words make the duo laugh as he gets up with a groan. "Let's go see how the newbies are doing."

By the time they come to stand in the doorway, you've already returned with the waters and first aid in tow. The others are sipping and resting against the walls, while you're kneeled down infront of the injured member.

"Little sting," you whisper before quickly wiping the girls knees, barely giving her a chance to register the pain before you're blowing cool air over it to sooth it.

"Thanks, Un-" She stops herself and looks away embarrassedly, fingers tapping on the bench.

"It's okay, you can call me Unnie. We'll be working together for a long time, right?" You hum kindly as you cover the scratches with two large bandaids, "so let's not be too formal with each other."

"Okay," she nods reassured, handing you your untouched water. "Then I should tell you that you should drink, Unnie."

"Hm, touché." You grin as you take it, downing half in one breath as you fall back onto your bottom to rest. "Ah, I have some Tylenol in my bag-" when you go to stand back up and get it, it appears in your face.

Courtesy of Mingi, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere just like he did in the morning, "here you go, Huebae."

"Oh," you blink in shock before taking it, "thank you."

"Hello," Sunji greets him politely, as do the others as they notice his presence. The others in the hall go unnoticed, probably on purpose as they watch from afar how you interact with everyone; curiosity clear on their faces.

You hand some Tylenol to the girl and pat her shoulder before looking up at Mingi, having to tilt your head back. "Sorry again for intruding on you, Mingi-ssi. I was just worried about Sunji here." You apologize once more as you dig out your phone from your bag. Mingi briefly notes the fact that you have twelve messages from the same person, and the way you smile at that.

"It's nothing to worry about, we were taking a break anyways. As long as the door is open, you're welcome to come in." He pauses for a second before he looks around, almost like he forgot the others were there, "that goes for you all as well."

    "Okay girls," Jisu claps, headed back to the front of the room.

    "Ah, duty calls," you huff as you jump up, helping Sunji onto her feet as she wobbles, "thanks again, Sunbaenim! I owe you."

     "Owe me?"

     "Yeah, I'll take you for lunch or something! Taking so much of your time on my first day, I must seem like a wreck." You laugh, but Mingi thinks anything but that. He thinks you have leader material written all over you, and you obviously have a passion for idol work.

      "Okay," he grins as he moves to leave, "I'll hold you to that."

      "Okay, let's go easy with some flexibility stretches," he hears Jisu instructing you all as he closes the door, coming face to face with Seonghwa's large smile.

     "What's that look for?"

    Wooyoung and Hongjoong are smirking as well, and it takes him a moment until he catches onto the fact that they think he was flirting with you. "Pssh, you guys don't know me better than that? I wouldn't flirt with a junior, especially one from our company."

    "Uh-huuuuh," Wooyoung teases as he turns on his heel and heads back to their room.

     "Seriously!"

   Seonghwa wraps his arm around Mingis neck, messing with his younger member, "Mingi-ya, are we invited to lunch too?"

    "You guys got the wrong idea!" He pouts as his cheeks and ears become flushed, quickly blaming it on the broken air conditioning in the hallway.

⋆.ೃ:･L-O-V-E𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

       The building is nearly empty at this hour, only one or two floors lit up. One of them is the practice floor, where you have been all day long.

    Your manager was long gone, your new members filtering out after her.

     They'd told you to get home safe and rest well, but you were too wired to even think about leaving.

    You had the music on considerably quieter, but your footsteps and voice carried through the floor as the cracked door went unnoticed in your focused state; left that way as Bongcha chased Aeyoung while begging her to teach her a specific dance move.

   "Shit," you curse as you stumble, rewinding the music ten seconds and trying again — only to do the same thing. "Son of a bitch! Ugh, Mom was right, you never work well when you're frustrated." You grumble to yourself as you switch the music to something much slower.

    You lower yourself to lay flat on the cool floor and groan as you catch your breath. Quickly, thanks to more than a year of KQ's intense stamina training, you're back to breathing evenly as you stare up at the fluorescent lights, letting the music vibrate your bones.

     "Nareul wihae fight for my life. Mudyeojimi iksukan sesangeseo," you belt out the lyrics, eyes closed as you appreciate the echo of the room. "Nawa haruman simjang bakkwo jul saram eodido eomn-AH!" You squeal as you reopen your eyes and find a man staring down at you.

You slide away on the smooth floor and quickly stand as you realize it's not just any man, but a member of your older group of seniors. He backs up, hands infront of himself, similarly startled.

"Ah, I'm sorry!"

"I'm so sorry!"

You both apologize at the same time, almost knocking your heads together as you bow in unison.

You bow again when he straightens up, showing him respect after you just screamed in his face. "My apologies," you offer a small smile, and he returns it.

"No, it's my fault, I kind of snuck up on you there," he shakes his head, gesturing for you to stand, "I just heard you singing while I was leaving and came to get a clearer listen. Your voice is nice."

"Oh, really?" You feel a heat on your cheeks, turning to get your bottle, "that's nice of you to say..." You pause as you try to recall his name.

"Oh, Kang Yeosang! You must be... ah, Ye (Y/n)?"

"Yes, nice to meet you, Kang-nim-"

"Please, please, that's way too formal! Yeosang is fine, or Sunbae. We'll probably see a lot of each other," he interrupts quickly, going on to explain himself, "no matter how long I do this, I never get used to being called that."

You turn back to him and nod in understanding, "of course. I get that, yesterday a little kid called me Ajumma and I almost cried."

He laughs softly and observes you as you cut off the music to be able to hear each other. "How old are you, Huebae?"

"I'm 22, 23 this year."

"Ah, not too much younger then," he wanders to the bench, sitting a good few feet away from you as you settle back on the floor, pulling your bag over to you, "your pronunciation is really good, aren't you a foreigner?"

You nod as you pull out a granola bar, offering him one to which he politely declines. "I lived out of the country for most of my life, but some of my family is Korean so I've always spoke bits and pieces. I moved here two... maybe three years ago?"

"Well, that explains it! You aren't really a foreigner, two years in Korea, you're practically a citizen," his words make you smile, and you find your cheeks sore from how much you've done that today. "Why did you move here?"

You're happy to find that the conversation flows naturally between you and Yeosang. "I have some distant relatives here that I moved in with. My home country isn't the safest at the moment, so they took me in. I'm still learning Korean customs and things, so hopefully I fit in well enough."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that... I'm glad you have your family to take care of you. And I'm sure you'll fit in, Mingi told me about how you came to him for help with one of your members."

"That's embarrassing," you face palm with a huff, "barging into another teams room because I don't know where the first aid kit is."

"What? No," he shakes his head firmly, "I think it was smart. Hurry to someone who can help so that no member gets left out. I think it's smart, not embarrassing." He speaks sincerely, making you look down at the floor with a thoughtful pout. "And it's a very Korean thing to do, taking care of people younger than you even if you might not know them well."

"Ah, I guess I can't argue with that," you slide across the floor and toss your wrapper in the bin.

"How long have you been a trainee at KQ?" He asks, resting his chin in his hand. He and you both are sweaty from your individual practices, your hair in two messes. Since he's in the same boat as you, you don't feel self conscious as he looks at you somewhat intently.

"Going on a two years soon." You beam proudly, finishing your water so it can meet the same fate as your wrapper.

"Really?! How come I don't remember seeing you around the trainee building? I'm in and out of there pretty often."

"I usually keep my head down," you giggle at his bewildered expression, "not the best trait for a wanna-be idol, I know."

"Hm, that's fair. Being introverted in life won't hold you back though, as long as you don't hide on stage." He provides reassurance from experience, you can tell. "Why is it you want to be an idol?"

"Oh, uhm," you stretch your legs out infront of you, nearly knocking your feet with his, "it's a long story. But the short version is I love music. I always have. And I want to make something for others to love, too." You fidget for a second before you speak again, "can I ask you something, Sunbae?"

He nods, eagerly awaiting your question, and when he hears it it takes him a moment to really think about it. "How does it feel? Singing, dancing infront of so many people?"

"Well, to me... it's like- it's sort of like this huge feeling of pride in myself, and my members. Showing all of my hard work in something that people can watch and enjoy. There's nothing like it, really. You'll have to wait and see for yourself," he finishes with a soft, lopsided grin, ignoring the non stop buzzing of his phone in favor of watching you take in his words and try to imagine them.

"Yeah. I'll have to see for myself, I can't wait."

"That's the spirit!" He says as he jumps up, heading to the computer desk in the corner and ripping a small piece from a discarded paper, "if you ever need a fellow introvert to talk to, any advice or help practicing, here's my number."

"Oh, seriously?" You stand quickly and take the paper with both hands, bowing to him once again, "thanks, Sunbaenim. You're very kind."

"Ah, it's nothing. We have to stick together, we're outnumbered," he jests as he heads to the door, "I have to head out now. You should do the same, (Y/n)-hubae. Go home and get some rest, the practice room isn't going anywhere."

"I will, Yeosang-sunbaenim. Goodnight."

You watch him go for a moment before you look down at the paper, putting it in your bag for safe keeping.

⋆.ೃ:･I FEEL YOU CALLIN' ME𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

   The next day, you're the first member there again.  You flip on the harsh lights and observe the nearly barren room.

    With a small pout, you toss your bag to the floor and begin stretching.

    Sunji is next, giving you a small bow before joining you in silence.

   Hwan Namseon, the second youngest, comes after. Then its eldest member Bongcha coming in with a loud greeting of good morning. Kim Eunhwa, the only other seemingly introverted member slips in and joins. Han Yoomi hops in with a grin. Aeyoung is last to come, apologizing that her bus had a flat tire as she quickly jumps into the line that's formed behind you as you lead the stretches.

"Hey, where do you think Manager-nim is? It's twenty past eight, she doesn't seem like the type to be late without letting us know." Aeyeong questions with a groan as she touches her toes to mimic the rest of you.

"Ah, really?" You glance at the clock on the wall. You turn away from the wall of mirrors and face them, "should we text her?"

Unbeknownst to you all, Jisu was in the security room watching you on the live feed from the camera at the top of the mirrors usually reserved for taking dance videos. To see what you would do when left to our own devices.

"Yeah, I'll text her and let her know we're all waiting for her," Bongcha leaves the group to grab her phone from the bench, quickly texting the older woman. "Manager-nim," she mumbles out loud as she types.

"What should we do while we wait?" Namseon asks with a glance thrown your way.

"Uhm," you think with a thoughtful frown, "why don't we do an exercise? I'm sure she'll be here soon!"

"Like what?" Eunhwa looks up, fiddling with her sleeves as she speaks just above a whisper.

"I have an idea!" Yoomi jumps with a hand in the air, looking towards you with big eyes.

"Yeah," you laugh a bit as she waits for your permission, gesturing for her to continue.

"Dance-build. We did it at my elementary school. One person does a dance move, and the second person adds to it, and it just keeps going until someone messes up- and that person is out! It could help us with remembering choreography."

"That sounds like it could be fun!" Aeyoung claps, "rock, paper, scissors for the order! Rock, paper, scissors, go!"

A few minutes and a fight about if gun is allowed and if so does it beat rock (it isn't, but it would) later, the order is decided and you begin copying and building off of each other as some dance music plays from Bongchas phone.

Eunhwa, you, and Bongcha move past your turns pretty quickly, watching as Namseon tries to remember the moves and execute them properly. She moves her legs in a different way than Bongcha did, and Aeyoung shouts, "eeeh! Namseon, out!"

"What?! Dang it, what did I do wrong?"

Bongcha repeats the last movement and Namseons eyes widen, "ah, I wasn't looking at your legs!" She slumps before shuffling to take a seat on the wall.

"It's okay," you smile her way, "you can be the referee now!"

You begin again, as Namseon watches everyone like a hawk. It goes Eunhwa, you, Bongcha, Aeyoung, Sunji, Yoomi. Eunhwa, you, and then Bongcha messes up.

At some point, it becomes just you and Aeyoung going back and forth adding more and more dance moves as the others cheer. Clearly, you guys will be the main dancers with how many moves you're doing without even a hint of struggle of remembrance.

"Our Unnies are so cool," Namseon whispers to Sunji, who nods with a wide smile.

A loud chime comes through the speakers, and Bongcha dives for her phone, "its Manager-nim! She said she's on the way, five minutes."

"Good," you pant softly, hands on your knees. "I don't know how long I could keep up with you, Aeyoung-ssi!" You share a laugh with the slightly older girl, who pats your shoulder as she mimics your pose to catch her breath as well.

"Aisssh, says you! You were so fast coming up with moves I could barely keep up!"

"Bongcha-ssi, will you hand us our waters?" You pant softly, wiping your brow as you sit with your newfound dance partner.

"Here you go," she smiles as she hands them over, going on to ask you two about some dance moves.

Small chatter continues as you rest until Jisu enters, "hello, everyone!"

"Hello," you all greet with your various degrees of bows, standing up and beginning to conquer your training for the day.

⋆.ೃ:･널 향한 낯선 VIBE𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

"How are your knees feeling, Sunji-ya?" You ask with a casual nickname thrown her way as you join her in waiting for the elevator.

During the few hours of your second practice together, the seven of you grew more and more comfortable with each other as the ice was broken.

"Oh, they're okay! Thank you for taking care of me yesterday, Unnie. I'm sure it was scary asking our seniors for help on the first day, I'm sorry about that."

"Oh, they're not so bad," you nudge her shoulder with a grin, "nothing to be afraid of." You enter the elevator together, and you ask, "going to the cafeteria?"

"Yeah, I'm starving." You press the button for the second floor, where the cafeteria and locker rooms reside.

"Ditto, let's eat together, yeah?"

Her smile pulls at your heartstrings as you enter the vast and open room. With only two doors, one with a male figure and one with a female figure: which had previously never been used, but now you see your members coming and going. Being the first girl group in the company was a weird feeling. Everyone was kind, but everyone was also waiting to see if you would be a massive failure.

Two younger boys nod their heads in greeting as you pass. You and Sunji bow back, a small and polite, "hello, Sunbaenims," coming from the girl which makes them smile.

The tables are far too many for all of the people you've met or know work here, but you know that it's a growing company. Still, it's oddly quiet with only the two Xikers boys and a handful of the Ateez members eating and conversing.

"Why don't you get us some food and I'll get us a cold drink?"

     Sunji scoops some rice and broccoli into two bowls and goes to claim a table for you both, not completely isolated but far enough away to give the men their own space.

     "Here you go," you slide her a glass of iced tea and sit across from her at the rectangular table, eyeing the way she has the lesser filled bowl infront of her. "Thought you were starving?"

    She nods, going to stop you from swapping your bowls, "ah, it's okay, Unnie! I should loose some weight before we start recording things-"

    "Tsk," you suck your teeth and swap the bowls despite her polite protesting, "you're still growing. You need to eat well."

    "Well, but-"

    "No buts," you give her a stern glare as you take a large bite, "I won't let our maknae wither away."

    "Maknae," she giggles, taking a spoonful with a bright smile, "it's weird to be the youngest. I'm the oldest of my siblings, actually."

     "Yeah? How many siblings do you have?" You converse smoothly as you eat, making sure she gets her fill.

As you laugh at her story of how her little brother cried harder than she did at the news of her official status of pre-debut, one of the men you briefly met yesterday approaches with a small head bow.

You and Sunji nod back, with you greeting him, "hello, Park-nim." You know his name, thankfully remembering him from an encounter you had in the trainee building.

"Hello, may I sit?" Seonghwa asks with a soft smile, gesturing to the table.

"Yeah, of course!" Sunji nods quickly, blushing in the presence of your pretty senior. "Nice to meet you," she beams, and you can't hold back a smile of your own at her eagerness.

"Nice to meet you, too. How has Jisu-nim been treating you all?" He inquires as he sits on your side of the table.

    "She's great! She pushing us to be our very best," the girl says, and you nod in agreement as he looks to you for your opinion as well.

    "That's good to hear. She's been waiting a long time to have a group of her own to manage, so I'm sure she'll treat you well. She came up with your concept and everything on her own, worked with Hongjoong for days on your title song."

    Both of you freeze with bites half in your mouths, and he realizes he's said something he probably shouldn't have as the young girl leans over the table with wide eyes, nearly toppling over as she asks him with urgency, "our debut song is already planned?!"

 

      "Sunji-ya!" You scold her, slapping her arm, "I apologize for her, Park-nim, we haven't been told about that yet, you see." He laughs as you force the shell-shocked girl back into her seat.

     "Ah, well I'm glad to be the one to tell you!"

      He feels a spark of energy as he sees both of your excitement, yours especially as you try to hide it with a nonchalant expression as you ask, "could you, maybe, could you tell us about it?"

     "Oh, I'm not in the production team," he begins, "but from what I've seen it's a very cute concept. Some lore has been tossed around but nothing solid. Hmm, what else?" He hums as he takes a bite of his food, feeling both of you looking at him expectantly. "Oh! Yeah, the song. I've heard some snippets of the instrumentals and it sounds very upbeat. I haven't gotten a glance at the lyrics but they're finalizing them right now, actually. Maybe you'll get your first look today."

     "Ah!" Sunji squeals into her hands before diving over the table to hug you, "I'm so excited!" She bounces out of her seat and bows to Seonghwa like she's been snapped in half before running away, leaving you both confused. "Thank you, Park-nim! Ah, I have to tell the others!"

     You watch her go with your jaw slacked before you grumble, "that little jerk left her dishes."

     Seonghwa goes into a fit of laughter at the seriousness on your face, the sound making you remember he was still there. "Ah, sorry," you give a little laugh of your own, "I guess our maknae is very excited to debut."

     "It's okay," he says between breaths of laughs, placing a hand on his chest, "whew! She's definitely going to be the mood maker."

    "Right? No kidding, that kid has energy like she just chugged seven Red-Bulls in a row."

     You share another chuckle, comfortable silence taking over as you finish your meals. When he goes to stand and take his dishes, you quickly stuff your last bites into your mouth and shake your head.

     He leans back as you collect all of the dishes on the table, his included. He watches as you scrape any remnants into the bin and set them all ontop with the others. "Thank you," he nods as you come back around with a smile, headed towards the elevator, "going back up to the practice rooms?" He asks as he joins you in waiting.

    "Yes, thank you again for telling us about the debut, I'm sure everyone will be happy to know."

"Ah, it's the least I could do, I know the feeling." He sighs as he presses the button, looking over his shoulder at you as the doors close. "You think you'll fit a cute concept?" 

"Oh, yes," you nod at lightning speed, "a lot of our members are light on their feet and good with facial expressions that will go well with that. Our second youngest, Namseon, has an adorable gummy smile that will be just perfect. Oh- my Unnies both have insane charisma, it's like they were born for the stage! And you met Sunji, she's a ball of sunshine. I think they'll do well."

He waits, gesturing for you to continue.

"Sorry, I rambled a bit! I'm done," you scratch the back of your neck and push past as the doors open, "thanks again-"

"What about you?" He asks before you can get away, gently laying a hand on your shoulder to stop you just outside of the elevator. "You said 'they'll' do good, but what about you?"

"Uh? Me?" You look down, clearly caught off guard as he asks about how you'll do, "I dunno, actually. I never thought about what concept I could fit..."

As if he senses your anxiety (because he does, it's a bit hard to miss), he smiles reassuringly down at you, "don't worry, I think you'll fit your group's concept just fine. You have that charm, y'know?"

    "Charm?"

   "Mhm! Something about you that's just... cute!" He feels a heat creeping up on his cheeks, and you see it.

"You think I'm cute?" You peek to his hand, still resting on your shoulder; and he quickly removes it when you do.

When he notices your eyes lingering on his flushed cheeks, he starts walking away, quickly headed to their practice room. "Aisssh, Mingi was right, we need to fix the air conditioning in the hall. Don't worry, you'll be perfect!"

⋆.ೃ:･간절히 FIND, FIND OUT𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

As soon as the door to the practice room slams shut: Seonghwa crouches and places his head between his knees, then his hands over his head. "Ahhhh!" He groans loudly, calling San's attention up from his phone.

"Jesus, what happened to you? You look like a tomato."

"I can never show my face to our crUSh hubae again!" He shouts from his crouched position, refusing to move even as he hears the door open and feels someone step over him.

"Don't mind meeee," Mingi says as he vaults over, "I'm not apart of this, just want my notebook."

"Are you sure you don't want in on this? Hyung embarrassed himself infront of one of the girls- or multiple? My bets on multiple."

Mingi stops with his notebook in hand, leaning against the wall next to San, "again? Is this a 'accidentally call everyone the wrong name' situation repeat?"

"Ahhhh," he groans again, slumping against the door and revealing his face to the two.

"Wait, that's not an embarrassment blush! That's a crush blush!" Seonghwa curses the fact that they've spent that much time together, they even know the difference between each others blushes.

"Crushing on crUSh, Hyung? You made fun of me for that!"

"I am not 'crushing', I'm not a schoolboy!"

"You are too! Who is it? Tell us!"

"Tell us, tell us, tell us," they go on to chant, San clapping with amusement as Seonghwa hides his face with his hands, "tell us, tell us, tell us!"

"Yah! Fine, I'll tell you-" he's cut off by their cheers "-but if you so much as even think about telling a single soul, I will-" cut off again:

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it!"

He takes a deep breath, leaning his head against the door, "I was talking with Ye (Y/n) just now." Mingi tilts his head and smirks as he continues. "She was worried that she wouldn't fit into the groups cute concept... so I told her that she was cute." San whistles. "While I had my hand on her shoulder." San whistles louder before cackling.

"Man, you are horrible with women!"

"It came out of my mouth before I could think!"

"At least you didn't give her your number, Yeosang beat you to it."

"Woah, woah, back up �� when the hell did that happen?" Mingi finally pipes up, eyebrows bunched together, "is he The Flash all the sudden? He's been with us all day!"

"Last night, dummy." San rolls his eyes, "is he The Flas- ow!" He punches Mingi's leg after he kicks him, glaring up at him from the floor.

"Did he actually?" Seonghwa tilts his head, thinking about the introverted member. "He's usually really shy around girls."

"Not as shy as you, Mr.Tomato," San makes both of them chuckle before he goes on to say, "he said he heard her singing after all her members left and went to complement her. They talked a little bit and he gave her his number if she ever needed anything, so he sayssss- but he was blushing too."

"Damn, Sang has game," Mingi slides down the wall to join San, letting out a little sigh which makes the man next to him perk up.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on-"

"Don't!"

San goes on despite Mingi's protest, "is Ye (Y/n) the one Wooyoung called your puppy?! The girl you said was 'suuuuper ni-' yah, quit hitting me!"

Mingi glares, and San glares back.

"She is super nice," Seonghwa breaks their intense staring contest as they both turn to him. "She made sure the member that got hurt yesterday was taken care of so she didn't fall behind, she cleaned up all of our dishes after her member ran off, she even knew all about her groups killing points. She didn't even mention herself when I asked how everyone would fit into their concept, just went on about how well everyone else would do."

After a moment of quiet, the younger men digesting his words, San hums, "she can't be that sweet, to have three of you crushing in not even a few days?"

    "There's something about her, man," Mingi pushes back his hair, "she had a literal sparkle in her eye when she saw their practice room for the first time. Like- like a cartoon princess!"

   "Yes, the sparkle! She had it when she was talking about her members, too!"

    "You guys are whipped, no one is this... enchanting! Enchanting, that's it!" San would be eating his words in less than forty-eight hours.

   Seonghwa shakes his head, "she might be- woah!" He falls back into the hall as someone opens the door, landing with a thud.

      "What's going on?" Wooyoung asks as he takes in the scene. Seonghwa and Mingi's fading blushes, San's look of disbelief. The oldest of them on the ground because he was hiding against the door.

    "Hyung embarrassed himself infront of his crush!"

     "I'll kill you!" Seonghwa yells, finally finishing his threat.

⋆.ೃ:･L-O-V-E𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

   Once again, you're left in the practice room on your lonesome after everyone left pretty shortly after your intense work out with the company trainer.

      It didn't slow down the buzz everyone had over the news of the debut song almost being completed so you could begin working on it yourselves.

     Especially not yours, as you stayed to study and practice other girl group songs with cute concepts.

   "Signal bonae signal bonae, jjirit- aaaah," you grumble as you fall back into your resting face. You glare at yourself in the mirror for a moment before you return to a soft and cheery face, "try to let you know. Signeul bonae signal bonae," you try to throw in the hand movement as well, groaning loudly as your focus fails you and your face no longer does what you want it to. "Ah, really!? C'mon, (Y/n), you're better than this."

     You point at yourself accusingly, unaware as the door swings open. "Neol bomyeo useumyeon arac- fuck!" You curse as your face falls once more as you focus too hard on singing.

You close your eyes and lean your forehead against the mirror defeatedly, not noticing as two semi-familiar men come into the room and witness you kneeling infront of the mirror wall, tears beginning to wet your eyelashes.

"Excuse me," Hongjoong speaks first, making you flinch. You quickly wipe your eyes as you turn to face him, hoping (though futile) that they didn't see your mini-breakdown.

"H-Hello," you internally curse yourself as your voice cracks.

"Are you okay, Hubae?" Mingi asks hesitantly, tilting his head.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay! Just a little frustrated is all! Thank you, Mingi-ssi."

"Ah, we all know the feeling," Hongjoong offers softly, nodding toward you with a comforting smile. You notice the stack of papers in his hand, remembering what Seonghwa had told you earlier.

"Thank you," you pause, unsure of what to call him. He's technically your senior, yes. But he's also a producer and leader.

He notices your brows pushing together with your thoughts, and he helps you out, "Hongjoong-sunbae is fine, don't worry."

"Ah, okay, okay! Thank you, Hongjoong-sunbae. Can I help with something?"

"Are your members around?" He gestures to the empty room save for you and Mingi, who's still looking down at you with a pout.

"No, sorry," you shake your head, offering an apology, "they left about an hour ago, we finished our work out early."

"Oh, that's too bad," he slaps the papers against his palm lightly and bites his lip, "I was hoping to give you all the lyrics to your title track."

"Really?! It's ready?" You perk up immediately, forcing yourself to calm down as you step closer, "may I see it? Please?"

He can't say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours, and apparently neither can Mingi; who grabs one of the stapled packets from his hyungs hands and extends it out to you with a big gummy smile.

You take it with an equally big smile, bowing deeply to the two of them before coming up and scanning the paper with that shimmer in your eyes that Mingi saw yesterday. Hongjoong sees it now too, and he understands what the man was trying to explain to them.

Passion in your eyes, he didn't think it would be so clear to see. But anyone who looked at you as you read the lyrics of what would be your first song would be able to see it. It's brighter than any other trainee, producer, lyric writer- it's brighter than anyone else's he's ever seen. And he finds him self excited to see what you do with it.

"SYNC-LOVE," you read with a gigantic grin. "crUSh official debut. Ah!" You can't help the happy yell that escapes you, hiding your face in the paper as the men chuckle.

You pull the paper back and scan the words, flipping the page and reading it all; credits included. Seeing their names on the credits, you bow repeatedly to them with your smile present all the while, "ah, thank you. Thank you so much, I'll make sure to do my very best with your song and my members as well! I'll make sure we make you proud to have u-"

Mingi puts a hand on your shoulder to stop your repeated bowing, laughing along with Hongjoong at your excitement, "careful, now! You'll get dizzy!"

"My bad," you look down to hide your still present grin.

"It's an exciting moment!" Hongjoong reassures you again, handing over the rest of the papers, "you'll get these to your members? In a few days we want to hear you all sing it individually so we can start assigning parts."

  You nod and take them carefully, turning to your bag and getting your phone, "is it okay if I send them photos of it- or is that a leak risk?"

    "No, that's okay. People don't even know we have a girl group yet," Mingi waves off your concern, "just do it through your number, no social media."

    You quickly snap a photo of each page and create a group chat with the numbers that you'd thankfully collected.

YOU ADDED BONGCHA.

YOU ADDED AEYOUNG.

YOU ADDED EUNHWA.

YOU ADDED YOOMI.

YOU ADDED NAMSEON.

YOU ADDED SUNJI.

YOU SENT A MESSAGE. Hongjoong and Mingi sunbaenims just stopped by the room. Good news, our debut song is completed!!

YOU SENT TWO ATTACHMENTS.

    As you turn back to thank them once again, your phone begins going off nonstop with messages from the others. "Oops," you turn off the ringer quickly, "I think they're just as excited as I am. Thank you again."

     "We're all excited to do what you guys can do," Hongjoong says truthfully, "Yeosang said you're a nice singer, is that the main position you want?"

     "Ah, rapper actually," you chuckle a bit, shifting on your feet, "admittedly, after my manager told us all your story, Hongjoong-sunbae, I started writing."

     "Really?" He beams, jumping a bit, "oh, I like you more by the minute! I can't wait to work with you!"

    You laugh as you wrap your arms around yourself, "thanks-"

    Mingi suddenly gets a brilliant idea, "hey, why don't you bring some of your songs to the recording booth so we can hear them?"

    "Oh, no, no, I don't have instrumentals or anything like that- I just write them for fun!"

    "So sing them for fun too! Let your voice be the instruments." Mingi is practically begging, and Hongjoong looks at you hopefully as well.

     "Maybe, maybe just one. I don't want to waste your time," you give in, making the men cheer.

⋆.ೃ:･THIS LOVE IS NOT FAKE𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

After your work out together the next day, you speak up before anyone can leave, "hey, before you all go!" You hop up quickly, stopping Yoomi and Eunhwa in the doorway.

You suddenly feel a bit shy speaking when all of the others are looking at you, "uhm, do any of you want to stay and try some of ATEEZ-sunbaenims choreography? I was thinking, we have a lot of pressure to live up to them and Xikers as well, especially in the dance department. Not to say that we aren't good! Just that they're very intense performers and we have a soft concept compared to them so maybe we could do a dance cover to show that we can kick ass too-"

In your rambling, you don't notice as they set their bags back down, gathering around you as you speak. "Because I know that we can! We can show the world that KQ doesn't mess around, even with their girls!"

"Hell yeah!" Bongcha yells, making you flinch, "sorry! But, yeah, I'm in for sure."

"What song were you thinking?" Aeyoung, eager to prove her dance skills to the world, is pulling back on her sneakers.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you all to agree," you take a deep breath as you scan the rest of your group, "maybe we could pick together?"

A couple of hours later, you're all sweaty and out of breath once again as you finish your third run-through of Guerrilla. 'Start off strong,' Namseon said as she was the deciding vote.

"Let's take five," Bongcha heaves as she falls onto the floor, "...hours."

A couple of breathless chuckles go her way as the rest of the group sits minus you. "I'll get us some waters," you manage as you head to the door, grabbing your phone on the way.

Once you get to the fridge, your phone pings.

BONGCHA SENT AN ATTACHMENT.

BONGCHA SENT A MESSAGE. Guerrilla, take three

You lean against the fridge as you open the video, watching each member intently. You're all very good, but you could be better. Your footsteps are almost louder than the music at times, and it helps that you can hear them all being in sync. As the dance break begins, you hear yourself in the video. "Let's go, Guerrilla!" The rest of them follow suit, "the guerrillas!" You're definitely louder than the music as you all shout to hype each other up, "break the wall!"

Smiling down at your phone, you don't hear the person approaching you until he speaks.

"I thought those stomps sounded familiar."

"My god!" You clamber to catch your phone, breathing a sigh of relief as you hold it tightly.

"Sorry," Yeosang laughs softly, "I should stop sneaking up on you." He gives you a little bow of apology before he gestures to the phone, "may I see?"

    "Ah," you place a hand to your chest as your shoulders relax, "you're going to give me a heart attack." You joke as you rewind the video and hold it out to show him.

    He leans closer, his shoulder against yours as you both watch it.

     "Woo!" He smiles as you all shout when the youngest looking member slides to the center. He can tell you already have a bond that will be helpful when things get tough. It's not often that groups click immediately, but he's happy that yours did; and it's clear that you have by the way you move in tandem with each other after only a few days. Some of you have more energy, more power behind your moves maybe, but you all move at the same time despite that. He thinks, as do you as you watch over your group, maybe you were meant to debut together.

    After it comes to an end, Yeosang claps and leans back, "woah! You guys are good! How many tries was that?"

    "You think so? It was our third take, we still have a lot of improvements to make," you say as you slide your phone into your pocket, moving to get the waters you came for.

    "Yeah, I wouldn't think that you guys are a new group based on that, you're a very well rounded group looks like." He takes some of the waters from your arms and earns himself a smile from you.

     "Thanks, Yeosang, that means a lot to hear. It was my idea actually to cover one of your dances to show that we could be badass too," you look down as you admit with a little laugh, walking with him back to your groups room.

     "You're a good leader," he nods with a thoughtful expression.

    "Uh? I'm not the leader."

    "No?" He raises an eyebrow, "who is?"

    "Uhhhhhh," you blank as you enter the room, making the others look up confusedly. "-hhh, heres the water!" Yeosang laughs heartily as you quickly change the subject, going on to hand over the waters he carried for you as you distribute them. "Guys, this is Yeosang-sunbaenim," you gesture to him before sipping on your own water.

     "Hello," they bow to one another, and Aeyoung is quick to drag you over after the formalities are out of the way. She leans over her phone, having similarly been monitoring your last take.

     "Ye-ssi, look here," she points, "I think Yoomi and Eunhwa should swap here, to have Eunhwa in the front. She has more intense facial expressions, don't you think?"

    "Ah," you nod along, backing up the video a few seconds to see again, "I think that's a good idea."

    "Yoomi-ya! Come here, I need to teach you a different part!" The older members yells dramatically, making you cover your ear with a grimace.

     Yeosang joins your side again with a grin, "not the leader, huh?"

You take a long sip of your water and look up at the ceiling thoughtfully before — "nope!"

⋆.ೃ:･달려가 CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

     The next day, you're surprised to see someone else in the practice room when you arrive — multiple someones that is, and an array of cameras and microphones.

    You pause in the door way mid-way through fixing your hair, slowly backing out as the main camera man swivels the lens to face you. "Sorry," you let your hair fall and bow, looking around curiously from the hall, "am I interrupting?"

    "(Y/n)!" Jisu waves from the group of people, having to jump for you to see her. "Come on in," she gestures you forward, placing a hand on your arm as you get closer, "we're going to start filming for a pre-debut documentary."

    "Really? We're making one? That's exciting!" You look around the room, waving and bowing once again to the crew, "hello. Good morning."

    You get a few responses back, looking away from the camera shyly. You'll definitely have to get used to that.

    "You're here early, practice doesn't start until eight," she observes, smiling as she realizes how dedicated you are from the fact that you have now been the first member to arrive four days in a row. "Did you plan to start early?"

    "Ah, I actually came to work on some songs," you hesitate, looking around as the crew continues to set up in the back of the room.

    "Writing?" Jisu asks, knowing that you've been coming up with songs of your own nonstop since she told you of Hongjoong's passion and subsequent success.

    "Yes, I wanted to write some that fit with our concept," you whisper as you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie.

    "Oh, that's great! You go ahead and do whatever you need to, pretend we aren't even here. We don't have the main sound going yet but the director may want some footage of you working." She pats your arm as she notices your nerves, giving you a little nod, "hwaiting!"

    "Thank you, manager-nim," you nod back, carefully taking your bag off and setting it on the wall by the door so it's not in the way.

     You can still feel the camera trailing you as you take out your newer notebook that has strawberry printed papers, along with your pen and a dry erase marker. You settle infront of the mirror with your legs folded under you.

    A few minutes of calming breathes later, you finally decide 'screw it', and allow yourself to begin working like no body is there, following your manager's advice.

    From your notes about what kind of lyrics you want, you begin writing on the mirror with your dry erase marker just like you do at home; only on a larger scale.

CHORUS

dallyeoga crush on you

super crush on you

can't stop the crush on you

code in L-O-V-E

TIPI-TAP TIPI-TIPI TAP

You write it out in romanization to see how it will sound, chewing on the back of the marker.

    "Hello," the camera woman who comes up to you greets politely, and you return the favor. "Director-nim wanted me to ask what you're doing?"

"Okay, okay," you nod quickly, scooting to the side a bit to allow her to film the writing on the mirror, "since our concept is super cute, uhm," you clear your throat, showing her the page in your notebook full of ideas, "I'm writing some songs that I think would fit along with it..."

"Why do you write on the mirror?"

"Oh," you look at it before smiling, almost reminiscently, "it's a technique someone taught me! Write it in dry erase or chalk so you can easily change it, move it around, see where things might fit better. And when you think you have it, write it on paper and see how it is!" You beam as you explain, quickly falling into your comfort zone.

"Ah," you erase part of it with your hoodie sleeve before leaning and writing in something different, "chorus should be a bit repetitive!"

dallyeoga crush on you

dallyeoga crush on you

"Better," you smile to yourself as you look it over.

"Hello," a voice calls all of your attention from the door, and you smile brighter as you see Mingi and one of his group mates you've yet to meet.

You wave briefly before gasping and turning back to the mirror quickly as some lyrics come to you.

pow pow

my heart just flew up

You hardly notice as the duo stop talking to your manager and the team, heading for you instead as you mumble to yourself. "Flew up?"

You peek up as the camera-woman backs up, getting all three of you in frame as they come up on either side behind you.

"Pow, pow, my heart blew up?" Mingi suggests as he reads over it, smiling as you immediately click your tongue and rewrite it.

"Aye, why didn't I think of that? Thanks, Mingi-ssi," you blink at the other man in the reflection and give him a bow of your head, "hello."

"Nice to meet you, Ye-ssi," he flashes you a soft grin in the mirror, "I'm San."

"Nice to meet you- ah sorry," you look away quickly and scribble a little further away from what you already have down before the words can get away from you, "inspiration waits for no-one."

beonjineun seollem

gidarin chit-chat

"This is a cute vibe," San complements as he reads it over with Mingi, "how long have you been working on it?"

"Hm," you take a glance at the clock in the mirror, 7:40. "About twenty minutes."

Mingi makes a noise of surprise, nearly falling from his crouched position until you grab his arm and steady him, "ah, are you okay, Mingi-ssi? Are you dizzy?" He laughs as you worry over him, pointing back to the writing after he's steady.

"Twenty minutes and you have a solid chorus?"

"Mhm!" You smile towards your work, humming the imaginary tune to yourself for a second to see if more inspiration hits.

"How long have you been writing?" San asks with a slight awe, taking a look at your book of ideas.

"Ah," you scratch your head, "since... April, I think?"

It's Sans turn to be surprised, raising his eyebrows and counting on his fingers, "four months?! Hey, no way," he shakes his head, "you're pulling our leg."

"She's a genius," Jisu buts into the conversation, coming to pat your head, "she's my own mini-Captain."

"Not even Hongjoong can come up with a chorus in twenty minutes flat," San argues, glaring at the words and mumbling them to himself.

"Hey, (Y/n), how are you imagining this?" The woman grins, as you begin to tap on your leg, thinking of the right pace.

"Kind of- aaah, no," you stop yourself before even starting, restarting quietly, "dallyeoga crush on you, dallyeoga crush on you. Ah, yes!" You lean over your paper and draw a little meter of how upbeat it should be. "Like, tipi-tip tap, tipi-tipi, tap-tap~ That fits right?"

Mingi points at Sans look of speechlessness, squeaking with laughter and leaning into your side.

"Hey, Unnie, can you-" You look and see Sunji enter, quickly looking up from her phone and having the same look of 'oh shit' that you did. "Oh, hello," she quickly bows, having the same conversation with your manager and nodding along.

Mingi and San are still helping you with fine tuning lyrics as she joins, sitting beside you and looking at the words curiously.

"What were you going to ask, Sunji?" You question as you making the recommended change that San suggested, nodding at the way it looks.

"Ah," she blushes a bit, asking in a hushed tone, "could you braid my hair before practice? Yours was really pretty the other day, but I don't know how."

"Awe," you smile at the young girl, sliding back and patting the space you previously occupied, "of course, anything for my maknae!"

San looks down at you two with a fond expression as you card your hands through her hair and she reads the words with curiosity. "Is this our next song?"

"No-"

"Maybe!" Mingi cuts you off, taking the marker and jotting down some more words, "your Unnie wrote the chorus all by herself!"

"Woah, really?" She meets your eyes in the reflection, "you can write too? You're good at everything!"

She bounces, making you pat her shoulder with a chuckle, "stay still."

"Sorry," she giggles, stilling as you begin to braid her hair back in an intricate way, "how does it go?"

You sing the chorus for her, San nodding along and Mingi listening closely; tilting his head as he thinks.

"Hey, Ye-ssi," he points to one of the lines with the marker that he's effectively taken over, "here, code in L-O-V-E~ What about," he wipes the line and replaces it as you watch with interest, "this?"

"The code is L-O-V-E," you sing together to the rhythm in your heads, feeling out the vibe.

    "I like it!" Sunji peeps, breaking you and Mingi's sudden staring contest.

     "Ah," you turn to her quickly to avoid his gaze, "really? Why don't you sing it for us?" You settle back behind her and continue to braid her long hair, watching as she smiles brightly. "Your voice really suits a soft concept."

To anyone watching the moment in the documentary many months later, it's certainly a heartwarming scene. Especially paired with the caption the editors slipped in: 'Ye-ssi is showing off her makenae<3'.

    If they looked hard enough; they'd also see that Mingi's gaze never left your hands as you gently braided your young members hair, and that San's kept flicking to you with a sense of wonder...

⋆.ೃ:･CAN'T STOP MY CRUSH ON YOU𐦍.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆.ೃ:･DELETED SCENES.ೃ࿔*:･

#ONE#

     After your strange but heart warming moment with Seonghwa, you return back to your own practice room; where Bongcha and Namseon are watching Eunhwa play a game on her phone. 

    Sunji and Aeyoung are seemingly having a flexibility competition, with Yoomi as the judge.

    You sit on the bench and watch between the two groups, a content smile on your face until from the open door you hear —

     "I'll kill you!" All of you perk up, running to the door and peeking your heads out.

    "Was that Park-nim?" Sunji asks with a pout, "he doesn't seem like the type to get angry."

    "What'd he say? I don't know that word," Bongcha looks to you.

    "I'll kill you, he said," you translate for her while watching curiously as the man in the doorway slides out of the way to make room for another, who comes flying out of the room; quickly followed by Seonghwa.

      "Come back here!"

       "No, I want to live! Hyung, please! I want to live!"

⋆.ೃ:･L-O-V-E WILL BE RIGHT BACK.ೃ࿔*:･

[obj4soul]

Women's clothing sucks. And I now firmly believe that one of the reason women are more obsessed about their weight is because of clothing. Growing up I mostly wore mens/boys clothing and I never had to think about size, waist, etc. The clothes won't hug my thighs in the sense that would make me conscious of them while moving. If the waist was too big id grab a belt. Plus the design of pants and tshirts was pretty standard.

Now during my late teens, early twenties i started going towards more women's clothing. Because i felt I had to look more feminine. And HOLY SHIT. It sucked. BAD. First the material. Its so bad and thin and cost more than guys clothes. No standard Tshirt fit, everything has a different shoulder to chest ratio. The pants are either too tight, hug your ass and thighs too much or are too baggy to be comfortable. And the waist. Holy shit. Ive been underweight till I was 23 (medical reasons). And I didnt have a lot of problem with the waist thing then (see where this is going) but the moment I kicked my illness and gained weight and got into normal weight range, dude the waist thing became a big issue. FIRST of all. For guys the waist end at waist, the hip bone area. Not for women. Most clothes go above the hip bones, some even over the belly button. If the thing feels right standing up, youll suffocate sitting down. And even if its elastic waistband, its sitting on your stomach, it does not have a bone to support it and it feels uncomfortable. (Maybe I have some sensory issue, I don't know about yall but I dont like being conscious of clothes sticking to my body). And now to the main point. I never had any issue with waist being uncomfortable when I was underweight or when I wear boys pants (really pants made for boys get more humanly consideration than women) and the moment i got into normal range, the womens pants saying they are my waist size fit pretty snug and tight around my waist, ass and thighs. But still till this day I never face this issue with my boys pants. Today while trying on some pants that my mom gifted me that said their waist was a size bigger than mine I found then uncomfortable and started thinking should I lose some weight? And that fucking blew my mind because I am already thin and in a pretty normal range of BMI. Those clothes feel comfortable as long as you are underweight. That is insane. Seriously. Ladies if this the case with you all. Or maybe some of you. Ditch the women's section. If you are short like me, go for the boys section or else mens. These fucking clothing sizes and designs are not made thinking of your comfort in mind. Now im gonna go to the store and exchange the pants for some boys khaki pants.

I think this is just one face of how the system is designed to make you feel uncomfortable and doubt yourself. You see how much waist room guys get? We are the same species after all. What the fuck. Do you make different size clothing for male and female cats or monkeys? No fucking other species have such a wide difference in body shape than what humans are told we have.

[boolger]

Don’t question Valeria

MDNI.

Tags: Valeria Garza x f!reader, sugar dating, sugarmommy, toxic relationship, fear of being killed, mommy kink (mami) nsfw, not a lot of smut but still, naked, implied violence, threats, threats of non-con sex, slight breeding kink, dark!valeria, some sort of AU idk.

AN; pretend all conversations are in Spanish. Yall deserve better than me just throwing it through the google translator, bc it would be a mess. Anyways, this is something I threw together today, it’s not edited , so apologies if there are any mistakes.

Her gaze felt heavy; it made your body feel heated, your limbs slow and submissive, as you crawled towards her on hands and knees. The invisible leash that pulled you towards her felt unbreakable, as if stopping wasn’t an option. It wasn’t, not really.

Not with Valeria. Never with Valeria.

Despite everything happening, every tragedy and tough moment that painted your life, you liked being alive.

Valeria made you feel alive but she could also, very easily, kill you. She had offered you the option once or twice, offered to kill you; you had declined both times, had never taken it seriously… but sometimes you wondered if she had meant it. If she would simply kill you, if you requested her to.

She was without a doubt, the most intense sugar mommy you had ever had.

You settled in front of her, the marble floor cold beneath your naked body, kneeling with your hands on your thighs - daring to lean forward to nuzzle against her knee. Unable to look away from her, the older woman letting out a dark, perhaps demeaning, chuckle. She looked like a queen in the armchair. Then one of her hands slid down to touch your bottom lip, caressing it for a moment and you once again dared to do something without permission. Your tongue slowly licked the finger, Valeria allowing you to do so. Your eyes became half hooded when you tasted her skin, the tobacco and gunpowder grim on your tongue, yet you couldn’t help yourself, leaning forward a little, licking a little more.

“Poor cariño,” she taunted, “so needy for me.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, licking her finger a couple of times more, looking up at her through your lashes, just to check if she was still looking, before adding a small “always, mami.”

Valeria clicked with her tongue a couple of times, moving her hand so she could push her pointer and middle finger into your mouth, a pleased moan leaving you.

Every time she scared you just a tiny bit, you told yourself it would be the last time - yet, all Valeria had to do was to make the tiniest motion towards you and you would come crawling. As if you were sick, infected deep into your bones and unable to survive - as if she was your cure, the only one who could heal you even if you felt worse than before, afterwards.

She owned you, despite how you denied it, how you refused to acknowledge it being the case. You were human, nothing less than her. Moments like this you weren’t sure whether she considered you a human or a pet though.

You were hers. If you didn’t want to, you would have to move; escape the town or settle in another corner of it, keep a low profile and stop sugar dating all together. Because if she found out you had moved on? The punishment would be swift. Painful. Not that you dated other than her right now - her command had been quite clear. Don’t do that. You will regret it.

Not too long after her warning, you had dared to ask one of her men if she had others than you, as to say, other sugar babies. Curiosity, you told yourself, nothing else. Alejandro had laughed with such delight, that it had made your toes curl and shame rush your stomach. Less than a day later, Valeria had asked you to come see her in her office - and the moment you had locked eyes with her, you knew Alejandro had told on you. She taunted you, yet somehow still made you wet, made you bend over, fucked you dumb as she crooned about you being jealous.

She had nobody else. Not after meeting you. But your lesson was learned. Don’t question Valeria’s loyalty… and don’t ask Alejandro about these things, ask Rodolfo.

Valeria pushed her fingers deeper in, catching you off guard and making you gag for a moment, your fingers instinctively moving to grab onto her wrist to get her hand out - she tutted at you.

“Get out of your head, kitten,” she mused, forcing her hand even deeper, your jaw almost unable to open that much, tears collecting in your eyes, small choking sounds leaving you and even though you knew she wouldn’t like it, you tugged at her wrist, “you’re no fun, when you’re caught in your mind.”

Finally she pulled back, hand covered in spit, your hands immediately leaving her wrist. She dried her hand off on your cheeks and you let her without any trouble, looking up at her as you tried not to cough.

“Do I bore you, cariño?”

“No, mami,” you almost spoke so quickly the words tumbled over each other, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Valeria let out a hum, looking down at you for a moment, as if lost in thought. Then she moved, her high heel nudging your legs apart a little and you complied immediately, spreading them more. Her foot slid in between your bare legs, front of the shoe then pressing against your pussy lips. Pressure, barely there, but it felt overwhelming and you wondered if there would be a wet spot on her expensive shoe when she pulled back.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” She asked then, leaning backwards, nudging her foot a little more up, watching you.

You should probably lie. Then again, lying to Valeria had never ended well.

“Job interview,” you whispered, looking away, unable to meet her eyes, looking down at the thin tights that covered her skin, knowing they could break with a tug of your teeth, “I’m going to a job interview, mami.”

She let out a huff. You felt smaller than before. Valeria didn’t like the idea of you getting a job. You doubted she would like the idea of you even considering leaving her. No, Valeria would prefer for you to be home, waiting for her to call or text.

“I’m sorry, mami,” you managed, trying to not cry again, “I just —“

“You don’t shouldn’t work, kitty,” it was a recurring reminder, “you don’t need to.”

“But I wanna do something,” you muttered, leaning forward to rest your cheek against her leg, “you don’t always have time for me.”

You dared to look up, only to immediately look away from Valeria’s amused face, toes curling.

“Look at me, pet.” Despite your slight fear, her voice was entrancing, it was loving and lustful, tipping her shoe a little more up against your cunt, “look at me, cariño.”

You did. For a moment, you wondered if Valeria was genuinely in love with you, her face so soft and the smile seeming genuine, her black hair framing her face, lips pursed a little.

“Feeling left out, pretty girl?” She asked, and oh, there the taunting tone was, “maybe I should keep you in the corner of my office - tied down, with a fucking machine constantly fucking you, eh?”

A small whimper left you and though you shook your head, Valeria merely continued.

“- or, maybe I should get Alejandro or Rodolfo to knock you up, cariño, maybe both of them. Then you could be busy with our kids.”

“No-no, Valeria, I don—“

She grabbed onto your neck so suddenly that it made you cry out of fear, eyes widening, raising on your knees as she pulled you up a little. She could easily choke you out or throw you down against the cold marble floor.

“You’re gonna cancel the job interview, aren’t you?”

You nodded, feeling the hand tighten so breathing became a little harder, so you added a hurried, “yes - yes, mami!”

Valeria smiled, but didn’t let go.

“And then you’re gonna stop looking for jobs. You’re gonna stay at my place tonight. Got it, little girl?”

“Ye-yes, Mami.”

She let out a hum. Then she let you go, pulling back her shoe, raising it to press against your chest, pushing you gently backwards. You crawled backwards a little, whining from being pushed away. From being denied her touch. That wasn’t why you were here, you didn’t want to upset her.

“I’m sorry, Mami,” you said, just for good measure.

Valeria hummed, crossing her legs.

“Get dressed. I have to make some calls - maybe one of Price’s boys would be open to breeding you, hm? I’ll get Alejandro to pick you up and bring you to my place. You’ll relax there till I get back, got it, cariño?”

You weren’t sure if it was the horror going through your body or the marble floor that made you feel cold. You couldn’t make yourself speak, your mind wasn’t working, couldn’t make any sound escape. So you nodded instead.

Valeria grinned as she got up from the armchair, moving towards her desk, mostly likely pleased with the lack of fight from you - and possibly with how scared you probably looked.

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request Soshiro using Weapon 10 for the first time in front of his secret girlfriend (that is also in the Defense Force) and the kaiju read his thought and announces the secret to everyone to hear?

Wingman

Soshiro was stuck in place. Like actually, physically rooted to the ground.

He had been ready for a fight, ready to use his secret weapon, ready to clean up the battlefield in a few minutes flat and be home at a decent enough time to cook you dinner.

But 10 was not having it.

The second that Soshiro had synced with him, all his little secrets went flooding into 10's consciousness. Including the one where he was dating you, which was a secret to the entire Defense Force, and the one where he wanted to propose to you, which was a secret to you.

Soshiro had desperately wanted to show off in front of you, show you what he was capable of in this suit, show you just how much he could protect you, but 10 didn't give a flying fuck what Soshiro wanted.

10 wanted to tell everyone that you belonged to Soshiro. 10 wanted Soshiro to propose to you now, in the middle of a battlefield. And the fact that Soshiro kept the engagement ring on him always in case he found the perfect moment to propose did not help the matter. 10 did not care about the perfect moment, 10 was all about the now.

And it didn't help that when Soshiro had first put on the suit, you had complimented how attractive he looked. 10 took full credit for that compliment and he immediately began liking you. If he could not do this one thing for you, if he could not get Soshiro to steel his nerves and ask you the damn question already, he would have failed you. He would have no honor as a Kaiju.

So there you were, in the middle of a fight, guns blazing, organs flying, and suddenly you noticed Soshiro dropping to his knees, planting them firmly on the bloodied ground. You run over to him, concerned that he might have injured himself.

"Sosh- Vice Captain! Are you... are you okay??"

His face is pained and he's gritting his teeth but you can't find a single injury on him.

"What's wrong, what's going on?"

His head snaps up to you, the movement sudden and seemingly against his will. He bites his lip so much it bleeds and you take a sleeve and start to dab at it worriedly.

"This... this is not... how I wanted... to do this." The words come out strained as his trembling arm reaches for his pocket. He yanks his arm back with his other hand but it's to no avail.

"Do what?" You're starting to get more anxious, wondering why your boyfriend is acting so strange, especially in the most dangerous of places.

You shoot another kaiju away from him as he pulls something out of his pocket.

"I... fuck... fuck, fine. I know, I know, shut up, I'm getting to it. Baby, I love you. This is absolutely not how I wanted to do this, I wanted to be significantly more romantic, but this fuckhead won't let me leave this spot until I do this. So please, love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Feel free to say no so that I can propose again in a better place at a better time."

Your eyes widen as he flicks open a ring box and gazes up at you, waiting for your answer.

Then you start laughing. "I think this was the most perfect proposal ever, I'll definitely never forget it now."

He blushes but he lets you continue.

"Yes, baby, I will marry you. There's no doubt about that, there was never any doubt about that. I'll marry the hell out of you. Now please, 10, will you let my fiancee up so I can kiss him?"

You shoot another kaiju out of the way as 10 allows Soshiro to pull himself to his feet.

Finally in control of his own limbs, he pulls you to him, sliding the ring on your finger before devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

All at once, your comms start to blow up with the voices of your fellow officers ringing loudly in your ears; the thing you hear the most is, "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? DID YALL JUST GET ENGAGED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BATTLE?"

Soshiro face palms.

"I'm gonna kill 10."

[cliffs-assaultrifle]

DS2 RANT WITH SPOILERS:

People being so loudly wrong about higgs and his writing in DS2 is slowly starting to kill me cause I don’t think we love the same character AT ALL.

I’m writing this with no hate so please don’t take it personally but I’m getting annoyed at how badly y’all wanna defend higgs from his actions.

I LOVE how awful he is in DS2. How that rage has festered inside him to lash out at everything yet desperate to keep playing games because he needs to be entertained. He is such a tragic villain and that is the POINT. It’s not bad writing for someone to be written so complex. Kojima is not writing for us to hate higgs. We are supposed to sympathize and feel sorry for him, but also angry at how this grown ass man is throwing temper tantrums because he refuses to take some accountability for the things he’s done. Hurting fragile, killing others, etc.

And I HATE that people try and go “oh but what abt amelie she’s worse and manipulated him?” Do you not remember the end of DS1?? The part where she cut herself off from everyone to suffer alone to prevent the exctinction?? Why do people keep ignoring that as if she’s not repenting?? It lowkey feels misogynistic the way people are comparing higgs to fragile and amelie, when these 3 are all complex individuals. Higgs and fragile are DIRECT parallels! The way they are written is purposeful and not trying to paint higgs as simply evil and “doesn’t deserve help”. If that was the case, why even give us scenes of him at the end grieving and crying? Why even add lore about him being abused as a child at all if kojima wanted to paint him as some one-dimensional villain.

Some people want to infantilize this grown man and reduce him to nothing but his trauma to excuse all the bad he’s done out of his own volition. Fragile and sam are there to be direct parallels to higgs character, to prove him wrong.

Yes, it is sad that higgs didn’t get help. In another universe I wish he did but then this wouldn’t make for a story if everyone just got therapy and held hands. Sometimes the abused become abusers and yall refuse to accept that. It’s a real, sad thing but it doesn’t excuse his actions and behavior. Higgs is complex and nuanced because of his backstory but to reduce him to just his trauma takes away that complexity. You don’t want higgs, you want someone to soothe and coddle. Higgs was going to end up like this in DS2, because in all the years he spent repenting on the beach like amelie, he decides to take no accountability and become worse out of pure anger and spite.

Trauma and abuse affects everyone in different ways. In no way am I, or DS2, trying to hate higgs for not being the perfect victim, however, trauma and abuse does NOT excuse the choices he’s made and thats what some of you are failing to grasp. Higgs is not the only person with trauma or abuse in this story and you guys trying to compare who’s had it “harder” are missing the point.

I’m sorry if this upsets some people to hear but I’m so tired of hearing people say DS2 is trying to “make victims look like bad people” or that DS2 is awful all because kojima didn’t write a redemption arc for the man who abused and killed fragile and tried to kill a baby (and bragged about killing said baby).

Higgs is NOT the first ever villain to have a tragic backstory that does not get redeemed and he will certainly not be the last. And I highly doubt this is the last we ever see of him unless kojima says otherwise.

[milksnake-tea]

hey all !! normally i wouldn't engage in something like this on my blog, but considering that it's happening to a friend of mine, i felt i had an obligation to speak out. sorry for clogging up the tags/interrupting your scrolling 😭

tldr: @/hxveneru has stolen the works of my good friend @lowkeyren not once, but twice and is deleting any comments calling them out.

edit: they've changed their user to @/yneri; if you've blocked them already, this doesn't really matter bc they're still blocked :) reminder to not engage with them, they're just looking for attention. block and ignore!

i know. fun stuff. proof is under the cut.

please note that i'm doing this of my own accord, and the only involvement ren has had in this post is me asking for permission to post it since, well, it's an issue mainly affecting her.

also i should say beforehand but. don't ??? send them death threats please 😭 we are better than that. i'm mainly making this to spread awareness about the issue :)

reblogs are appreciated to spread awareness.

first stolen work is ren's oneshot "drunk words, sober thoughts!" for aventurine here.

as you can see, it was posted on June 15th, a little over two months before hxveneru posted their own oneshot.

for reference. hxveneru is a new blog and all of their posts are in the month of september, proven here via their archive.

and here's the two oneshots side by side, with ren's on the left and the stolen one on the right.

notice how the oneshots are exactly word-for-word except for the title and synopsis? even the author's note is exactly the same. obviously i can't fit the whole thing here, but this should be enough.

honestly it's. i have to laugh at the audacity to just copy and paste like hello???

and here's the second work that was copied, with hxveneru's "diff scenarios w hsr men" taking from drabbles from two of ren's works.

these are the two fics that were stolen from, with their dates attached. both are posted far before september. links are here and here if you want to double check..

now let's look at the drabbles that were - once again, copy and pasted. first is blade's, again with ren on the left and the stolen one on the right (ren's is circled bc they didn't take the hcs part).

and here is the sunday drabble that was stolen.

so far, those are the only works posted on their blog. i was also informed that they had apparently stolen from @/exuvianen's post here but deleted it, but since said post is deleted, we don't have evidence for that so take it with a grain of salt.

but yeah! just wanted to let yall know out there, especially since the plagiarized works have already gained some traction and have 100+ notes on them. i've talked about them vaguely on my blog before, so if this sounds familiar, yeah this is them.

plagiarism is shitty, i shouldn't have to say that. it is not that hard to just write your own stuff. i know validation and publicity make you feel good, but stealing someone else's hard work is not the way to go. writers already have enough to deal with. just don't do it. what's the point of getting validation if it's not even your work?

again, don't send death threats, please. that's a bit far, and they likely won't even do anything since the plagiarizer has already been called out before and this was their response.

not a single ounce of remorse or shame. people have gotten way too comfortable on here.

also "who the hell is ren anyway" bestie you blocked her 😭😭 and ignored her ask to you. that's why ren can't dm her to sort it out privately btw, in case you were wondering.

anyways! that's all i have to say, thanks for sticking around this long and have a great rest of your day. hxveneru if you see this. hi ig ?? id say smth to you but i doubt you'd take it seriously so i won't <3

[fictionandfixation]

DOCTOR'S ORDERS #1

Beach Day Blues

Stardew Valley: Harvey x Shane x AFAB!Reader

Part II

Monkey ask, monkey get. Here is Part I. Hope you guys like angst and pining and obsession and shit because there's loads of it. yall who replied in my notes, have fun: @mongoosingisme @voideggs @chickensinrainboots @7reya

Shane x reader is coming too for all u grumpy chicken man enjoyers. Allow the buildup baby. It WILL get sluttier. Much. Much. Sluttier. This is only like a fifth of the parts of the fic that are written so i can release more if you guys likey!

Summary: Harvey gets jealous and goes on a rescue mission. A memory of a very hot day at the beach threatens to ruin the tranquility of your life in the valley. An unfortunate moral problem gets in the way of you and your devastating crush: that you happen to be his patient, and that he happens to be a total professional.

Warnings: Intent to have semi-public sex (you didn't think i was gonna give it to you this early, did you?). Power dynamics. Slutty use of the title 'doctor'. Jealous!Harvey. Unconscious!Reader but no somno (maybe squinting reeeally hard). Age gap. Harvey is a total weirdo at the start of this fic. You guys will enjoy that though no doubt. Rating: Mature.

MDNI. Chapter under the cut. This shi long asf.

Part I. Beach Day Blues

Harvey pulled up at the side of the road. The desert was no small place, but he knew exactly where she’d gone - as he had done a million times before, he locked his little green vintage car and strode through the sand towards the caves. He had absolutely no idea how she’d even found this place, but the second she had, no one in town had heard the end of it. More time spent up at the adventurers’ guild, more bringing bagfuls of geodes for cracking open over to Clint’s. He huffed a sigh, and his eyes softened with sympathy as he saw her, snoozing almost peacefully right by the entrance to the caverns. He checked her over; she was battered, cuts and bruises littering her limbs and face. He scooped her up into his arms, and she brought her hands to her stomach, resting her head against his chest. There was no denying that now she’d opened these mines she had somehow, rumour had it, become fantastically wealthy. It didn’t matter to him. She was killing herself in the process.

“Safe now,” he whispered, carrying her back across the sand and laying her gently down in the passenger seat. He leaned across her seat to buckle her seatbelt and felt her soft breath on his neck. She made a small noise as she turned her head, and Harvey felt his stomach lurch, allowing himself a glance sideways at her as he fastened the belt across her waist. “Hope that’s comfortable, sweetheart,” he whispered again, the speech carried away with the desert wind. Probably for the best. He lifted her chin with one finger to untuck her hair from the seatbelt, cringing as the seatbelt made a screeching noise against the leather seat. She leaned into his hand, lips brushing against it, and he quickly retracted his touch, closing the car door with a soft click and heading around to the driver’s side. He flexed his fingers where she’d touched them, and just in case she was awake, pressed them to his mouth whilst she was still outside the car. He removed the hand and sidled into the car, resting his forehead for a moment against his steering wheel. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath, and, checking she was still out of it, reached into his pocket. He pulled out a box of Marlboro Golds, put one between his lips, dug in his cup holders for a metal lighter and flicked it to life, lighting up the cigarette and rolling down the window as he started the car. Don’t smoke, you’re supposed to be a doctor. He could almost hear her saying it. He blew a stream of smoke out of the window. The car was old and small, and she was sat almost too close for comfort; a turn out of the desert sent her sideways, and her head rested against his shoulder. Harvey almost shuddered, tapping the brake lightly, an ache deep in his chest causing him to take a long drag of the cigarette. Please. Please stay there. Please. Please.

They spent the rest of the drive home like that. Finally, Harvey pulled up to the medical centre and burst through the door, throwing his possessions asunder and digging through his drawers until he found a vial of green life elixir. He tossed his cigarette butt in the trash, then ran back out to the car. He put a drop of the sweet elixir on her tongue, his breath catching in his throat as his finger and her tongue met briefly, and then applied it to her wounds, gentle. He slid back into the car and kicked it into gear to drive her back to her farmhouse. It was such a quaint little spot, he always thought; very roomy, he had considered when she’d invited him in for coffee a few months ago. Room enough for two, a little voice in his head had said, and he’d kicked himself, glancing sideways over the brim of the mug she’d given him at the door of her bedroom.

He plucked her like a leaf out of the car, strong, practised arms no match for her. Still asleep, exhausted, she nestled into his chest. Harvey felt a pang of something cold and unpleasant down his spine. Guilty, guilty, guilty. Just tell her. Just tell her how she gets home. She has to wonder. What is wrong with you, you sick fuck? It raced through his mind every time he saw her, every time they shared a bottle of wine and some fruit from the farm with Elliot and Leah at the bar. She had this awful, sweet, teasing habit of fixing his tie when she’d had a few drinks - it was always a little crooked, and she would flip up his collar, pull it from him and retie it for him, hands around his neck and chest. Every time she did it, his hands shook, his neat, moustached face blushed red and he all but turned into a half-set custard.

Crippling jealousy would creep up on him as he saw her buy Shane a slice of pizza or a beer, really the only one in the town who made an effort with him. It paid off, too - she brushed it off, but Shane shamelessly flirted with her, flashing her a wry, bad-boy grin and shrugging off his hoodie to reveal broad shoulders, thick, strong arms from working on Marnie’s farm and a smattering of hair at the collar of his shirt whenever she came into the saloon. And Alex, who constantly complained of going too hard on arm day, was often rewarded with the sweet farmer’s thumbs digging into his shoulders, causing him to groan dramatically and pretend to collapse onto the table, to the laughter of all of his peers. Leah, fresh-faced and beautiful, would often receive fresh goat’s cheese from her, and would pepper her cheek with kisses in thanks. Haley would bite her lip and squish the farmer into a tight hug when she brought her sunflowers. Maru would squeak in delight when she brought gizmos and spare parts and bushels of strawberries to the clinic, while Harvey seethed in the office, staring down the jar of pickles she’d handed him at the door. And Elliot. Elliot was who Harvey felt the worst about. They were such good friends, talked and laughed with each other, and yet, on evenings when he saw Elliot interact with the farmer, all he felt was a burning, intense jealousy that made him want to hit something. Elliot was a wordsmith, charming, dashing, silver-tongued. He always had something to say, some coy, sly joke to throw into the conversation, and he could coax a giggle out of the farmer even on the worst of days. She was obsessed with his hair, and treated him sort of like a glorified doll, braiding and running her fingers through it, much to the redhead’s delight. He knew it wasn’t like that. Some deep primal part of him was just convinced otherwise.

Harvey, in comparison, was just some guy - meek, bookish and uninteresting. Besides, he was older. He wasn’t sure how much older than her he was - never ask a lady her age, of course - but it was probably in the region of about ten years, if not more. Harvey himself was just shy of thirty-six, salt and pepper grey already streaking his brown hair and his moustache, the maturity and quiet of a lonely sort approaching middle-aged dousing his personality. She had a fiery spirit, beautiful blind positivity about everyone and everything, an energy to her that he could never hope to keep up with. Astonishingly pretty. Funny and courageous.

No. No chance.

He dug in her bag and found her keys, unlocking her door and settling her gently on the couch. He observed her, sweet face illuminated by the embers of the fire she must have lit before she left, and stroked her hair a moment.

“See you tomorrow,” he murmured as he left, locked the door and posted the key through the letterbox attached to the front door, shoving the usual note into her mailbox as he left.

“Come on, come on. Come and sit with us.” You were laughing, trying to coax Shane into coming to sit with you, Harvey, Elliott, Leah, Sebastian, Sam and Abigail. “C’mon, three of them are emo as fuck, you’ll like them, sad man.”

“That ain’t earnin’ you any brownie points,” Shane replied with the twitch of a smile, and allowed himself to be dragged by the front of his shirt. “Ain’t all of y’all people about ten years old? Or is it twelve?”

“Old enough to get another beer,” Sam snorted. “You guys want anything?” He stood to go to the bar, and there was a chorus of ‘no thanks’. Shane made himself comfortable at the table and draped his arm over the back of your chair. You weren’t too interested in Shane - a conversation you’d had with him already - but you were both the same brand of talkative, hands-on drunk, so you casually flirted with him sometimes, and could see why the idea might have made its way through the town. Abigail had straight-up cornered you outside the mines and asked you if you were sleeping with him.

“Oh, my God, Abbie. No.”

“Dude. He’s all over you like a rash,” she’d laughed.

“That’s kind of gross, man. I can see where you’re coming from though. Nah, don’t worry. We’ve had the chat. It’s chill.”

“Didn’t know you were into older guys,” Abigail teased and nudged you as she accompanied you to the adventurers’ guild.

“Whatever. I’m just not obsessed with Shane, dummy,” you pushed her back. “However partial to an older gentleman I might be. And I mean, I’m not going to complain about a little pudge. I like ‘em kinda cuddly. But yeah. Not a serious kinda guy, is he, anyway?”

“Oh, so you are into older guys.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The tavern was getting crowded, Harvey sitting right across from you, smiling quietly at your jokes with Abigail. Sam slid a beer over to you. “Just to say thanks for the help with the band.”

“Oh! Thanks honey, you didn’t need to.” Sam was a sweetheart, but he was a little young to be interested in you, and you were glad of it. Now, if we were talking about someone a bit older, like Abigail had been saying… there was an obvious choice here. Elliott was a real sweet talker, but he could be a little much at times, and besides your friendship was a little too strong to be thinking about him in that sort of way. Shane was off the cards, you reckoned. He was a charmer for sure underneath the icy, gruff exterior, but it was just as you’d said to Abigail - he wasn’t really a long-term sort of guy. And so, of course, that left Harvey. Oh, Harvey. You’d wondered how you got home from the desert after it happened the first few times. You wondered if you’d somehow not remembered staggering back onto the bus, but every time you were back home you woke up smelling of coffee and cigarettes and a very familiar smoky cologne that you couldn’t quite place. One morning, you had walked past Harvey early, right after both of you got up, and caught him in his private occasional smoking habit; then, everything fell into place as a breeze ruffled his hair and that familiar cologne wafted pleasantly under your nose. Oh, yes. It was him all right.

You’d always been interested in him, a quiet, reserved type who liked to read in the grass and always diligently patched you up when you came to him with a monster bite, big hands so tender and gentle. He was probably about nine or ten years older than you (fresh and spry at twenty five), and much taller as well, with broad shoulders and thick hair and oh, God, that moustache. You loved how mature and smart he was, how his hair was littered with a little silver, how his forehead had a few frown lines on it. Handsome, for sure, with that hot-dad kind of appearance it was hard to stay away from. But he kept to himself, so you had thought you’d better just soldier through your crush and let him be. But the news that he was going out of his way to make sure you were safe, to make sure you were warm and asleep in your farmhouse every night… it had flared something up in you that you hadn’t felt for months, and that nagging crush was worsening.

There was, admittedly, once you thought something might come of it, however short-lived, and since then you’d really been down bad for him. You’d gone swimming in the shallows of the sea with Harvey, Elliot and Leah in the summer, and suddenly the sky had cracked open like a fat blue walnut and started pouring floods of rain on top of you. You and Harvey had taken shelter in a tiny cave off the coast, Leah and Elliot deciding to race barefoot to Elliott’s hut for some towels and coats. You’d laughed yourselves sore watching them go, Elliott’s salty hair waving in the wind, Leah falling on the sand, Harvey’s hand on your shoulder to guide you into the cave away from the downpour.

“God, it’s freezing. Come on, let’s at least be dry.”

“Colder in here than it is out there,” you shivered, wiping tears of laughter, and he ran his hands up and down your arms to warm you as you squeezed into the cave. You laughed harder, taking his hands. “Oh, fuck, stop, tickles.” It was barely even an alcove, hardly big enough for two. And all of a sudden, Harvey was very, very close to you. So close, in fact, that you could feel the heat coming off his skin. You were silent for a few moments, catching your breath. His chest rose and fell with intensity from laughing, smile fading, and then you could see his lips moving towards yours, and then your hands were on his cheeks and then you were up against the wall and then he had frozen, millimetres away from a kiss, mouth slightly open, breath heavy.

“Shit,” he whispered, and stepped back. “Oh, shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t - I didn’t mean-” He tried to flatten himself against the opposite wall of the cave.

To no avail - you could feel his breath hot on your neck, shallow and nervous, could see the vein in his neck fighting for dear life to pump blood to his quickening heart. You stole a glance down towards his trunks, dark hair littering his lower stomach. He turned to the side in embarrassment to shield himself from your sharp, apparent gaze.

“Medical emergency, doctor? You look a little faint,” you tried tentatively. You touched the tips of your fingers lightly to his waist. His hands found the wall behind you, enclosing you.

“Don’t.” he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as your hands drifted up his damp chest. The next words came out as a whisper; he squeezed his eyes shut as though in pain and dipped his head towards your neck, lips inches from your flesh, breath hitching in his throat. “This isn’t right. And I-” he swallowed nervously. “I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“I didn’t take you for the rough type. Doctor,” you murmured back, your hands travelling lower, to his stomach, and he let out a shuddering, shaky breath.

“You don’t know what you’re doing calling me that,” he looked away, jaw clenched, restraint evident on his face. Yet, he did not move. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t.”

“Why? Do you like it?” You gazed up at him, eyes heavy-lidded. You were utterly fixated on his face, the slight purse of his lips as he fought to keep his hands where they were, the flutter of his gaze as his arms rebelled, leaving the wall behind your head and hovering just shy of the flesh of your hips.

“Please, I’m begging, sweetheart, you have to stop,” he breathed raggedly, and his hands closed on your waist as you pressed closer still, hands finding the sides of his neck, bringing his face away from your neck. Your lips were inches apart, and his gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips. You’d never heard him like this, danger and pleading in his voice at the same time. You were entranced. You closed the distance, and pushed your lips against his. He jolted with shock, and then gave in, kissing you deeper. He pushed his hips against you lightly, groaning low and rough next to your ear, pushing you back against the wall behind you again and running his palms down your sides, settling his fingers on the hem of your swimsuit. “Come on, they’re going to be back any second- I- if we go any further… fuck, fuck, I want to ruin you so bad-“

The mere thought got you worked up. Harvey taking you against the rock like an animal, rough and unsteady, panting in your ear, just as the others discovered what you were doing… the very idea made you feel absolutely wild. Your eyelids drooped, bedroom eyes taking on a life of their own, and you felt your mouth dropping open as your breath became heavier.

“You want to ruin me?” you said, breathless. “Then ruin me.”

He covered his mouth for a moment in panic, and then quickly removed it, knitting his brow, silent for a moment. He pursed his lips and glanced to the entrance of the cave. “Shit. Shit, okay.” He spun you around in what little space you had, bent you over against the wall and entangled a hand in your hair to keep you there, pulling roughly back and leaning in to plant a kiss on your neck-

“Got towels!” There was a call from a way off. The sun was back, and Elliott was at the mouth of the cave in no time, tossing a couple of towels in. Harvey muttered a curse, tore himself from your body before the redhead could discern what they were doing, and turned away, breathing hard, and you quickly stood up before Elliott saw. Harvey caught a towel and wrapped it loosely around his waist to cover up what you’d done to him, and he all but ran out of the cave.

That had been it. Harvey had been almost silent ever since, but you could see him bristling every time you shared a beer and a cigarette with Shane or braided Elliott’s hair, every time Sebastian gave you a socially awkward sideways hug. Every time you headed out to gossip hand in hand with Haley or borrowed Emily’s clothes you could feel the stare boring into you. You’d made a habit of prodding at what was clearly a jealous streak just to see what would happen, dressing up, putting on a little outfit you thought he’d like; this evening, a long sleeved black cotton top, hugging and well fitting, short heels and a fairly tasteful plaid skater skirt which ran to your mid thigh. Only recently had he plucked up the courage to speak to you properly again. He hadn’t mentioned what had happened at the beach, but he was (almost) up to his old self.

The experience in the cave was grinding at your head every moment of the day. I want to ruin you. Oh, god, you wanted him to do it, but you were convinced he hated you now - whether because of what had happened at the beach or over your friendship with the town’s other bachelors. It didn’t matter which. He was a no-nonsense kind of man, mature, professional and to-the-point, and you felt so deeply guilty for teasing him like that, for not giving him space. He was a man with a reputation to upkeep - of course being caught like that wasn’t on the cards for him, so of course he’d resent you for almost talking him into it.

The taste of him had never washed out of your mouth. You had wanted him then, but you needed him now. It had been months since the beach and all you’d felt were pangs of shame and desire and idiocy whenever he met your eyes over his glass of wine whilst you were trying to distract yourself with a drink with Elliott or Shane or Maru, whenever he brushed your shoulder in Pierre’s. It was torture trying to keep away, trying to pretend you didn’t have the most criminal crush on him, that you didn’t want him to march you into his supply cupboard in the medical centre during your check-up and press you into the wall and cover your mouth to keep you quiet and just do whatever he wanted with you. No one had ever reacted to you like that, begging, pleading, threatening, as though you were sin itself. No one had ever made you feel like that in so short a moment, like you were theirs, like they could commit atrocities against you which would make the devil blush and you wouldn’t bat an eye. No one had ever made you want them so badly you would have risked being seen getting railed in a fucking cave by two of your closest friends.

Shane clinked his glass against yours and sent you a wink. Harvey’s foot slid beside yours under the table. You laughed at Shane, trying to shake off the feeling that the shoe beside yours was there on purpose.

*

Okay yall that's it for now. Slutty af, unrequited af, moral dilemma af, yeehaw shane af. Tell me how you like it. As I said - chicken man x reader and more escapades of a lewis and marnie nature to follow between reader + harvey! I have edited this a bit since posting, so feel free to revisit <3

also i am very open to changing bits of this, so let me know what kind of plot points u guys wanna see in the future! Love from Fic&Fix <3

[ladykyriaa]

BEFORE S3 FUCKING STARTS.

(Oh my fucking god we're getting s3 )

Slight spoilers to LN

Can i just say that as much as JINSHI is being pushy abt his feelings, MAOMAO is just as densely ignorant of it. Not oblivious. Ignorant.

They're both at faults here. I feel like this is something that is very, VERY important to relay bcs the communication between these two fuckass dumb people is so ughhhh to the point of UGH.

They dont have miscommunication bcs theyre forced to, its bcs they NEVER BOTHERED TO.

Jinshi immediately assume that she. Must. KNOW. Shes smart, shes deduced everything up to the most recent case by herself surely. surely something as obviously plain as his feelings she must know as easily too

WRONG. immovable object meets an unstoppable force, the force being just how fucking deep her denial could go.

What we see in the s2 finale episode is merely a gLIMPSE to what yall will be seeing in s3

And im not talking abt the jinmao moments, oh there will be a shit ton load of them. Im talking abt how "jinshi advances a move for maomao yet she neither accepts or rejects him but it seems as if she is"

And oh boy without her inner monologue its gonna be a whole lot worse yall are gonna fucking pull your hair out of its root by the end of it bcs this GIRL

Jinshi smirked. “Now, where were we?”

Up close, she saw the stitches hadn’t come out of his cheek yet, although they were neater than they had been before, suggesting they’d been redone. Wonder if that’s my old man’s handiwork, she thought. She found herself reaching toward Jinshi’s face. His eyes softened in a smile, looking somehow innocent.

That was her monologue, when jinshi approached her to continue where they "left off"

Certainly she's not to blame for how her actions may be interpreted, but Jinshi is hardly to blame as well for HOW HE. Interpreted her actions. Again, this is merely a glimpse as to what shes doing.

She does a whole lot more, becomes a lot more tender later on. How Jinshi interprets it all, heck getting his hopes up I bet, is hardly to blame for the utter dejection he will undoubtedly feel later on.

BUT.

Its fine.

Bcs through that development he's able to take a step back and respect her space later on. Like. Im not joking he KEEPS. HIS. DISTANCE.

Whats the point of this post you ask. Honestly idk. But i see a lot of people blame jinshi, and claim that maomao is, idk oblivious and disgusted by him when that is obviously not true. This miscommunication between them is something thats caused by BOTH OF THEM. had one of them said something, anything, i doubted it wouldve escalated to the point of ln5 epilogue.

It wouldve been messy, but the epilogue was a result of untold feelings and buried words. NONE of them said anything.

[luuvprincess]

✰࿎6࿎✰

Omniscient

A day had passed since Sierra and Jey's little argument. She was finally home after her flight being delayed then cancelled and delayed again. She walked into her apartment. She was serious when she said she booked her flight back home. Joshua was blowing up her phone with texts messages asking where she was, he even had trinity and Jon texting her. She texted them back letting them know she was fine to tell Joshua to stop blowing up her phone.

"Uhh hey girl what are you doing home early?" Imani asked as she walked out her bedroom after getting a notification on her phone that someone entered the house. "Girl I got tea but let me take shower first." "Oh okay I'll wait."

Sierra walked into her room putting her suit case and bags in the corner for now, she put her phone on the charger and hopped in the shower.

Meanwhile...

Joshua was beyond pissed off, with everything at work plus everything that just happened with him Sierra, everything he had planned was ruined him and Jon had both took a a couple days off and decided to surprise the girls with a little 3 days vacation to the Bahamas.

As soon as he got home he tried calling Sierra again, she just wouldn't answer. So he took a quick shower changed his clothes and got in his car and drove to her house. 15 mins later he arrived at her apartment.

little mama 😻

Joshua💋 : come outside mama

Little mama 😻:?

Little mama 😻: wym come outside?

Joshua💋: come downstairs so we can talk

Read @7:23pm

Sierra shows Imani her phone so she could see what was happening she told her everything that happened that day. "Girl go downstairs and talk to your man." She say. "I don't want too." Sierra complained.

"Your only avoiding him because that bitch boy Jashawn so but things are different Sierra, I can tell Jey makes you happy girl you be glowing." Imani said.

"I don't know mani honestly I'm just scared I don't wanna fall to deep and boom it's another shit ass relationship. Don't me wrong you are right he does make me happy but sometimes I have my doubts." Sierra expressed.

"So tell him that don't hold back because your gonna fuck it up for yourself." Imani says. Sierra let out a sigh just as another message came through.

Joshua💋: You got 2 mins to bring ya ass down here or imma come up there myself

"Go Cece before that man come up here." Imani said. Sierra got up walking towards the door putting her Yeezy slides on. "I'll be back." "See you to tomorrow." Imani said Sierra flipped her off walking out the apartment.

Joshua was sitting in his car parked facing the door waiting for Sierra to walk out. He had the AC on low. Sierra walked out her apartment building she looking around for Jey's car. Spotting his black 2025 cadillac CT4-V black wings she walked up to the car and got in.

"Really you gonna get up in my car with that attitude?" Jey asked as he got a good look at her face. She had a nasty mug on her face her arms folded. "Your being a brat Cece." He said.

"What are we talking about?" She asked. "This right here. This attitude Sierra you booked your flight Monday night and left remember? I told you to go back to room but what you do? You left the city, I should really fire your ass." He says.

"I did you a way better favor but go ahead and fire me." She says as she continues to mumbling under her breath.

"No you just added more shit on my plate." He tells her. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Why'd you start that shit Cece? She ain't say nothing to you." He says.

"First of all I did not start nothing, she started it and Why are you arguing for her? Where was all this energy at when you let that bitch talk to me crazy." She asked him.

"I'm not arguing for nobody, I'm just tryna figure out a why your so mad that you left the city instead of going to the hotel like I ask you to." Jey says

"Is there history I should about that yall have?" She asked him. "This ain't about me right now Sierra it's about you."  He says.

"It is about you it's about us so what the hell are you talking about nigga?" She asked. "So imma ask you again and if you don't answer I'm leaving, Is there or is there not history between yall that I should know about?" She asked again.

They looked at each, the eye contact was strong. Sierra shook her head laughing to herself as she began to open the door. "Aye hell nah Sierra stay ass right here." As he reached over to close the door. She rolled her eyes causing him to suck his teeth. "Stop that shit Sierra, is this what you use to do with him?" He asked.

"Boy please fuck him and fuck you too honestly you really wasted your time coming all the way over here." She said as started getting out the car again , Jey grabbed her arm pulling her back in and shutting door locking it on child lock.

"Stop Sierra I said wanted to talk to you about it not fucking argue cuz that's not what we finna do in this relationship you mad about something tell me don't go running off with a attitude cuz I'm not going nowhere baby girl." He tells her holding her arms on her sides so she wouldn't try to leave to car.

"Let me go Joshua. She said. "Not till you calm down." "I am calm let me go." He shook his head as he looked at her face she was far from calm she so pissed off.

"Joshua you got 2.5 seconds to get ya hands off me." She said. "Whatchu gonna do pretty girl? Huh?" He asked.

"Y'all nigga everything a joke." She tells him. "Who's y'all?" He asked.

"You and every other nigga in this world all yall some goofy ass little boys that take everything as a joke." She said.

"Watch your mouth."

She rolled her eyes again letting out a deep sigh. "Are we done? I got shit to do." She asked.

"We far from done. You still got this ugly nasty attitude, and you acting like a fucking brat and you wanna call me a little boy and you throwing tantrums over nothing." He said.

"Over nothing? Let me go I needa get the fuck out this car like right now before I crash the fuck out."

Josh chuckled to himself. Her neck snapped in his direction as she also began to laugh to herself.

"Actually Mr. fatu I quit and Joshua we're done you don't wanna take this shit serious then I'm cool off you. Find you a new assistant and find you a new toy to play with matter fact ask that bitch from training room whatever the fuck her name was."

"Sierra ion wanna hear that shit you ain't going nowhere. You making yourself mad asking questions you already know the answer to. Yes me and Jaida have history but it after my divorce but I told you this before." He says. "That's exactly why your ass needa calm down cuz you just saying shit and you ain't think straight, you gonna crash out go ahead." He adds letting her go.

"Fuck you." She mumbled. "You could be if you stop acting like this."

"Is that all you think about is fucking?" She asked.

"Only around you." He answered she rolled her eyes once again for the third time probably even more. They sat in silence for about 2 minutes. "You cool now?" He asked as he slowly released his hold on her arms.

"Im not finna force you into something you don't want so if you leave this car I leave you alone I'll find me a new assistant and we can act like we ain't never met."

Deep down Sierra knew her ass wasn't going nowhere. She was just saying all that for literally no reason she was just saying the first thing that came to her mind because she had a lot on her mind she didn't know what to say.

She knew that she needed this Job for one and two Imani was right She had been nothing but happy since her and Joshua actually started this relationship.

He's treated her way better then Jashawn has ever. If this was her and Jashawn they would have never gotten anywhere.

She really wanted cry and eventually tears started running down her cheeks. "It scares me Jey." She murmured. "What scares you Cece? Talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong so I could do better next time."

"I'm scared that if I let myself fall in love again I'm only gonna hurt again and I don't want be hurt all over again, and the shit like this is what my ex would do." She said.

"I'm not gonna hurt Again Sierra."  He says.

"When you dismissed me it felt like you didn't care about my feelings felt like your were tryna say fuck how I feel it's all about how you feel and how she felt." She said as she wiped her tears.

"Well baby that wasn't my intentions. I would never dismiss your feelings you know I wanna know how you feeling and I'm sorry that's how it came off. I was mad you were mad there was just lot going on all at once and I want you to know that I don't give a fuck about nobody else but you." He said.

"Did you get in trouble at work?" She asked after breaking the silence that fell between them. He looked at her confused then laughed out loud.

"Nah I ain't get in trouble."

"Okay good, can I have my job back?" She asked. He laughed again. "Yeah baby you can have your job back." He said.

Next part

Tag list 🏷️💗: @uceyliyahh @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @isabella-2025 @dstark-0706 @4milly @zillasvilla @charmed-dreamssss @sheaabuttaababyy @levissslutt

A/n: heyyy yall. I hope yall enjoyed chapter 6 bc I hate writing drama as yall can see I don’t know how to end it for shit. I only did it for yall to keep you guys in entertained nice to know yall actually like so I'll being doing it again don't know when mostly like just got be at a random time.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny (Part 3) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 12,588

Warnings: murder, Joker, minor age gap, police (ew)

Summary: Imma cut to the case, girly loses her car

(MASTERLIST) (Part Two) - (Part Four)

A/N: Hey...how yall doing... Sorry I kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a little while...my bad, I have made a few posts explaining how my life's been a mess recently, so had to take a step back from all this for a while. I don't know how often I'll be able to update things/post, but I'll do my best with the time I had, it might just be a bit slow, sorry And thank you to everyone that reached out to me, it's so sweet to have you guys looking out for me and all that, thank you so much, it means the world and thanks for reading most importantly, it's good to see people enjoying my fics 💚 SO! it's been a while, but I hope I didn't disappoint :) Enjoy~

-

It had been over a week since Y/n had last seen Joker. A week since the night he brutally beat the shit out of Max, the image still lingered in her mind, as did his words. How he made it clear she wasn’t allowed to have anyone else in her life. After everything that happened, Y/n couldn't bring herself to attend classes. The risk felt too great, she didn’t want to anger Joker any more than she already had. She had been isolating herself in her dorm ever since, barely leaving except for quick trips to the bathroom or to grab food from the dining hall. It was as though the walls of her small room were closing in on her, and the world outside felt too dangerous to face.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Joker had been around to break the monotony, to bring some kind of human interaction into her lonely routine. His presence, unpredictable as it was, might have been better than the suffocating silence. But then again, he was the one who had forced her into this isolation. Did she really want comfort from the same man who had made her feel trapped in the first place?

Well...yes. Yes, she did. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Y/n missed him. Missed J. What if he was right? What if she truly didn’t need anyone else? After all, people had always made her feel uncomfortable, anxious. Except for Joker. Despite his chaos and unpredictability, he had a way of making her laugh, of making her feel seen and special. Strangely enough, there were moments when he even made her feel safe. And when she really thought about it, she only doubted him when he wasn’t around. It was in his absence that the questions and fears crept in. But when J was by her side, everything seemed brighter, more manageable. It was like her doubts evaporated in his presence, leaving behind only the spark he ignited in her.

She had no idea why he hadn’t called or shown up in the past week. Maybe he was busy with fuck knows what. Y/n had been avoiding the news along with people, deliberately shutting herself off from anything that might clue her in to Joker’s latest chaos. She hated hearing about his “exploits”, it made everything feel too real, too overwhelming, as if by hearing about his crimes, she became more entangled in his dark world. And she wanted to keep that part of her life as far away as possible.

But then a chilling thought crossed her mind. What if he was dead? Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as her breathing grew ragged. Could that be it? Joker, her Joker, dead? No, it wasn’t possible. He was the Joker, larger than life, untouchable. But if that were true, then where was he? Where was her J?

Panic crept up her spine. The more she thought about it, the more her mind spiraled. If something had happened to him... no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. But still, the gnawing question lingered. Why hadn't he shown up? Why hadn't he called?

Y/n sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she curled up on her side. The bed, usually a place of solace, felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Or, to be fair, every night. She just wanted—

“Leaving your window ajar? Bit dangerous in this society,” a familiar voice drawled, smooth yet taunting.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes flew open. She whipped around in her bed, gasping in disbelief. “J!” she cried out, her voice full of relief and joy.

Crouching in her window, Joker looked as mischievous as ever, his signature grin stretching across his face. His sharp eyes glittered as he swung one leg inside, then the other, landing silently on her floor. He stood there, his frame casting a shadow across the room, but there was an undeniable magnetism in his presence. He radiated danger and yet, to her, there was comfort in seeing him, as twisted as that comfort was.

"You missed me, Bunny?" he smirked, straightening up as he sauntered over to her bed. 

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She shot up from her bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she rushed across the room and threw herself into Joker's arms. The moment she felt his grip tighten around her, it was as if the weight she'd been carrying all week lifted. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a strange mix of cologne, smoke, and something undeniably Joker.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him.

Y/n sighed deeply against his chest, a sense of relief flooding through her as she melted into his embrace. The loneliness and emptiness that had weighed her down for days seemed to evaporate the moment he returned. With Joker there, her once dull, lifeless room suddenly felt vibrant and alive again, his mere presence filling the space with an intensity only he could bring.

"Where have you been?" Y/n asked softly, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed into his chest.

"You know...around," Joker replied casually, his voice as nonchalant as ever.

Despite the vague and careless answer, Y/n found that she didn’t really care. Not right now. All that mattered was that he was here, in her arms again, filling the emptiness she had felt all week.

"And I come bearing gifts," Joker's voice took on a playful edge. He reached behind his back, pulling something out from beneath his coat with a dramatic flourish. In his hand, a bouquet of flowers appeared. Slightly wilted, the petals crushed from being stuffed behind his back, but flowers nonetheless. "Flowers," he declared with a crooked grin.

Y/n couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as she accepted the bouquet. "A little beaten up, but still lovely. Thank you."

Joker leaned in closer, his smirk deepening. "Had to put them somewhere while I climbed up here. Couldn't exactly carry them in my teeth." He said, baring his stained teeth.

Y/n blinked at him in disbelief, her heart doing a small flip at the thought. "Why in the fuck would you climb up here? I live on the fourth floor!"

Joker shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Keeps me sharp. Plus, I like to keep things...interesting." 

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief running through her. Of course, Joker would think scaling a building was a fun way to make an entrance. It was reckless, just like him, but that same unpredictability was what made him so captivating to her.

Y/n carefully placed the flowers on her bedside table, their slightly crumpled petals a reminder of Joker's unconventional affection. She turned back to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as she gently tugged him toward the bed.

Without missing a beat, Joker kicked off his shoes, the movement fluid and practiced, as if he’d done it countless times before. He climbed onto the bed, settling down with a casual ease. Sitting up for a moment, Joker shrugged off his coat, tossing it to the floor, then stretched out his arms, inviting Y/n into his embrace.

Without hesitation, she slipped into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a strange comfort to her, a grounding presence in the chaos he always seemed to carry with him. Joker sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her back.

"You uhh...haven’t left your dorm in a while, have you, Bunny?" Joker’s voice was casual, but the question was laced with an undertone of curiosity.

Y/n froze for a second, the truth settling heavily in the space between them. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to delve into the reasons why.

Joker tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "Wanna tell J why?" he asked, his tone almost coaxing.

Instead of answering, Y/n only shrugged, burrowing deeper into his chest, as though she could make herself disappear within his arms. The weight of everything she had bottled up, the isolation, the fear, the confusion, it was too much to put into words. All she wanted in that moment was to feel small, safe, and sheltered from the overwhelming reality pressing down on her.

Joker let his fingers gently stroke Y/n’s head, his touch both soothing and reassuring. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as Joker shifted slightly.

“Come on,” Joker began after a moment, his voice a soft murmur against the silence, “tell J.”

Y/n remained nestled against him, her voice barely a whisper. “I just...I didn’t feel like leaving. Things got complicated, and I didn’t want to risk…I don’t know, making things worse.”

Joker’s expression softened slightly, though his playful smirk remained. “Complicated, huh?”

Y/n nodded against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Yeah. It’s been hard, trying to make sense of everything. And...I guess I’ve been scared.”

Joker’s hand slid up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up slightly so he could meet her eyes. “Scared of what, Bunny?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. “Scared of...disappointing you...And of you being angry.”

Joker’s gaze softened further, and he pulled her even closer. “Hey, you don’t need to be scared. Not with me, Doll. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not gonna hurt you. Not a chance.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering worry. “But sometimes, you make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope…Like I can’t breathe.”

Joker’s fingers traced gently along her jawline, his touch tender despite the intensity of his gaze. “I get it. I do. Sometimes I…push too hard, and…” he sighed, rolling his eyes, not wanting to admit it. “It’s not always about what’s best for you. But remember, Bunny, you’re mine. And I don’t just mean that in some possessive sense. I mean it in a way that means I care about you…Even if I don’t always show it the right way.”

She managed a small, appreciative smile. “I know. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

Joker’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find that balance together, yeah? Just you and me on that little tightrope of yours. And maybe, if you’re willing…We can…talk more about what’s been going on. Mhmm?”

Y/n nodded, feeling the warmth of his words and his presence. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax into his embrace. For now, the world outside seemed far away, and in this moment, it was enough to simply be held by him.

“Will you stay the night? Please?” Y/n asked, her voice soft and pleading as she snuggled closer to him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Joker’s eyes dropped to her, his expression shifting from his usual playful mask to something softer, yet still tinged with mischief. He raised an eyebrow and gave a theatrical sigh. “What, in this tiny little bed?” he teased, casting an exaggerated glance around the small space.

Y/n’s heart sank slightly, but she maintained her hopeful gaze, her eyes glistening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Yes, please. Just tonight.”

Joker’s smirk widened, and he gave a dramatic shrug as if considering the request. “Oh, alright,” he said, with a hint of reluctance. “But only because I’ve missed you too.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable on the small bed, adjusting his position so that he could hold her more securely. His playful demeanour didn’t fully mask the warmth in his eyes, which softened as he looked at her.

As Y/n settled into the crook of Joker’s arm, her breathing began to even out, the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling in a peaceful cadence. Joker watched her with a mix of tenderness and fascination, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a rare, serene calm. Her face, softened by sleep, was framed by stray strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

He carefully adjusted his position, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With a gentle touch, he reached over to pull the covers up over both of them, tucking it snugly around their bodies. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of their usual lives.

Joker’s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, taking in the sight of her so serene and vulnerable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over her face, highlighting the delicate features that had become so familiar to him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a rare moment of contentment washing over him as he admired her.

Once he was satisfied that they were comfortably covered, Joker finally allowed himself to relax. He shifted slightly, arranging himself so that he could hold her close, feeling the comforting weight of her against him. With one last glance at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into sleep. 

It was a rare and almost mythical sight. Joker sleeping. Sleep was a luxury he seldom afforded himself, a mere afterthought in the whirlwind of his life. His existence was a constant rush of adrenaline and chaos, where sleep was more of an inconvenience than a necessity. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, the demands of his chaotic world seemed to dissolve, if only for a brief moment.

As he lay beside Y/n, the darkness of the room enveloped them in a cocoon of calm. The usual sharpness in his features softened in sleep, his furrowed brow easing into an uncharacteristic serenity. The once restless energy that drove him now lay dormant, replaced by a quietude that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.

He allowed himself this rare indulgence, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of Y/n's breathing and the gentle warmth of her presence. For tonight, he set aside the complexities of his world and the incessant ticking of his internal clock. This rare pause from his relentless pursuits, was all for her. 

For his Bunny, he was willing to grant himself this brief escape, allowing the world outside to fade into the background, leaving only the serenity of their shared night.

-

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around her. Blinking against the soft light shining through the window, she realised she was still tucked in Joker's arms. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, the sound of his heartbeat oddly soothing. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. Joker, the Joker, lay sleeping peacefully beside her. 

She tilted her head slightly to look at him, taking in the sight of his face softened by sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression were gone, replaced by something almost...human. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Y/n’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, tenderness, and a quiet sense of disbelief. She never expected to wake up like this, cradled in the arms of a man so dangerous and unpredictable, yet, in this moment, he felt like a safe harbour in the storm.

As she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer as if he could sense she was awake. A small smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of peace. Being with him might have been turbulent, but in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, the world seemed to pause.

"You're still here," she whispered softly, half to herself.

Joker didn’t stir, still lost in the rare tranquillity of sleep. Y/n snuggled back into his embrace, her body relaxing against him once more, savouring the fleeting moment of calm before reality inevitably caught up with them again.

Y/n gazed up at Joker’s sleeping face, her heart swelling with a strange mix of emotions. There was something captivating about him like this. Vulnerable, peaceful. It was a rare sight, one she had never quite imagined she'd be lucky enough to witness. He looked so different without the tension he carried when he was awake. His sharp features, which usually wore a wicked grin, now seemed softer, almost innocent in the quiet of the morning. Well, they would be, if not for his makeup. 

For a moment, she couldn’t help but think back to a week ago when she had almost seen him without his makeup for the first time. That day, everything had been different. He had been furious. She didn’t wanted the first time seeing his bare face to be like that, so she simply did not look.

But now, in this stillness, Y/n found herself longing to truly see him. His makeup had always been a mask, a barrier between the world and the man underneath. What did he look like when he wasn’t the Joker, when he wasn’t playing the part of Gotham’s most dangerous criminal? She had seen glimpses, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. She wanted to see him in a way that felt personal, intimate, something shared between just the two of them.

Her hand twitched, tempted to reach up and trace the lines of his face, to wipe away the remnants of his painted mask. She wondered what it would be like to see him with nothing to hide behind, no makeup, no games. Would he let her? Could she ask him? The thought made her pulse quicken, a mixture of curiosity and nervousness rising in her chest.

“Staring at me while I sleep, huh?” he rasped, his voice husky from sleep.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his eyes opened, their familiar intensity returning as they focused on her. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze. Y/n blushed, caught in the act. She quickly glanced away but didn’t pull back from his embrace. 

“I just…I’ve never really seen you like this before,” she whispered, her fingers lightly resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Joker said, a teasing edge to his voice as he noticed Y/n’s pout.

Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on his face, captivated despite the conversation. Joker’s brow raised as he caught her intense gaze. “Got a staring problem?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Y/n hesitated, her words tangled in her throat. “I just…” she started, struggling to find the right way to express her feelings.

Joker’s eyes softened slightly, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s the face paint, isn’t it?” he guessed, his tone almost affectionate as he read her with an unsettling accuracy.

Y/n’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, not hesitating. “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Joker’s smirk widened, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had your chance, remember? But you wouldn’t look at me,” he teased, fake pouting.

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze returning to his. “I didn’t want to…not when you were angry with me,” she admitted. “I didn’t want that to be the first time I saw you. But now…I want to see you.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Joker said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“But satisfaction brought it back?” Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she searched his face for clues.

Joker leaned in closer, the proximity causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat of his presence. “Have I satisfied you yet, Bunny?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur.

The air between them crackled with an almost tangible tension, thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every breath. Y/n felt a rush of warmth spreading beneath her skin, a heat that was both exciting and unsettling. Her heart raced in response to the intimacy of their closeness, each beat echoing in her ears. Every subtle shift in Joker's gaze and every brush of his breath against her skin amplified the sensation, making it feel like a live wire against her nerves. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, stirring a mixture of longing and apprehension that made the moment feel almost unbearable in its potency.

Despite the charged atmosphere, she had to be honest. “Well, no…I want to see your face,” she admitted, breaking the spell of the moment.

Joker’s dramatic eye roll and the click of his tongue were almost theatrical. He pulled back, the playful irritation clear in his expression. 

For a moment, Joker said nothing, just watching her with that unnerving intensity of his. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing along her jawline. “You’re full of surprises, Bunny.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, this time, it wasn’t lustful, but gentle. “But if you want to see me…you’re gonna have to be ready for what comes with it. Think you can handle that?”

Y/n paused, mulling over Joker's words. What did he mean by that? What was the consequence of seeing him without makeup? Doubts began to creep into her mind. Did she really want this? Was it worth the uncertainty?

Joker noticed the turmoil written all over her face. With a heavy sigh, he reached out and gently patted her head, breaking the spell of her thoughts. “Not today, Bunny,” he said softly.

Y/n nodded, a resigned understanding settling over her. She could wait a little longer.

Joker then slid off the bed, retrieving his coat from the floor and slipping it on. He shoved his feet into his shoes with little care. “Gotta go, Bunny.”

“You just woke up,” Y/n said, confused.

“Well, crime isn’t going to commit itself,” Joker replied, holding his arms up like it was obvious.

Y/n frowned, but Joker just rolled his eyes. “I ain’t never been a saint. Don’t act like that.”

She sighed and sank back into her bed, feeling the emptiness left by his soon to be departure. Joker leaned over her, his face close, but his expression softened.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, hmm?” he said, pulling his lips back, waiting for her answer.

Y/n managed a small smile and nodded in agreement. Joker responded with his trademark grin, placing a quick, playful peck on her lips before pulling away with a pop.

“Until then, Bunny,” Joker said, his tone light as he strutted to the window.

“You’re not seriously leaving through my window in broad daylight!” Y/n exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

“Bye bye!” Joker said with a playful wave, completely ignoring her protests as he made his exit.

Y/n scoffed, reflecting on how it was a miracle Joker had never been caught. Hell, it was a surprise she hadn’t been caught up in his world herself. But dwelling on that was pointless.

As she lay in bed, she realized how much Joker’s presence had lifted her spirits. She hadn't felt this good in ages. In fact, she felt an unexpected surge of motivation. Not enough to drag her to her classes, but certainly enough to get out of her room.

Determined to make the most of her newfound energy, Y/n pushed herself off the bed and began getting ready for the day.

-

Sitting in her car, Y/n surprised at how far she’d come. She hadn’t expected her motivation to last her this long, but a sense of satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within her. The day ahead was a blank canvas, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but with the wads of cash Joker had given her, she was confident she’d find something worthwhile in the city of Gotham.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life with a reassuring hum. As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, the city’s pulse seemed to sync with the beat of her heart. Gotham’s towering buildings and neon lights flashed past her as she drove, a blend of curiosity and anticipation guiding her through the city maze. She was ready to explore, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Or, you know…just take it easy.

Y/n decided to park her car in a quieter part of the city, if that even existed. She wandered towards the waterfront, drawn by the promise of calm against the backdrop of the city’s frenetic pace. The unfamiliar sun cast a warm glow over the water, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the polluted sea. She found a little ice cream stand nestled on the waterfront, its colourful display tempting her with a variety of flavours. After scanning the options, she chose simple chocolate. Ordering was easy enough, she barely even hesitated with her words. 

With her ice cream in hand, Y/n strolled along the waterfront, savouring each lick of her treat. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore was soothing, even if the sound was momentarily interrupted by rubbish washing up along with it. 

She watched families and couples enjoying their day, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment she hadn’t experienced in a while. For a few moments, she let herself be immersed in the simple pleasure of the afternoon, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom and the soothing ambiance of the waterfront.

As Y/n continued to stroll along the waterfront, the initial thrill of her outing began to wane. The gentle breeze and the pleasant scenery no longer held her attention as they had at the start. Instead, a sense of weariness started to creep in. The excitement of walking around Gotham’s and the novelty of her day out were giving way to a quiet longing for the comfort of her own space.

She finished her ice cream, the last few drops of chocolate lingering on her fingers. The sun was beginning its early descent, casting long shadows across the boardwalk and signalling the end of a day well spent. Yet, Y/n found herself feeling more tired than refreshed. The energy that had once drove her spirits was fading, replaced by a growing desire to return to the familiarity and solace of her dorm room.

With a sigh, she turned away from the waterfront and started making her way back to her car. Her steps were slower now, her earlier enthusiasm replaced by a comfortable, if slightly melancholic, fatigue. The dull cityscape blurred into the background as her mind shifted to the thought of sinking into her bed and enjoying the peace of her own space.

As Y/n reached her parked car and began to pull her keys from her pocket, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her back. A chilling presence loomed behind her, sending a jolt of fear and anxiety through her entire body.

"Give me the keys," a gravelly voice demanded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. The dim glow of the streetlights revealed the glint of a handgun, hidden in the man's jacket but now pressed against her back. Trembling, she nodded and, with a shaky hand, retrieved the keys from her pocket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly extended her arm, letting the keys drop into his outstretched hand.

With a rough, demanding grip, the man seized her shoulder and shoved her aside. Y/n stumbled and fell to the ground, her palms scraping against the pavement. The world seemed to blur as panic surged through her veins, her mind racing with shock and fear.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the man sped away in her car, its engine roaring defiantly as it disappeared down the street. The reality of the situation sank in with a harsh, bitter sting. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself off the ground, her hands shaking as she brushed dirt from her clothes.

“...Fuck,” she said, with a shaky breath.

She stood up and began walking, her steps heavy and sluggish. The streets seemed endless, stretching out before her as she trudged along. With each step, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and worries. How was she going to explain this to Joker? The thought of confronting him, of admitting she’d lost his gift, filled her with dread. 

She imagined Joker’s reaction. His anger, his disappointment, the sharp, biting words he might hurl at her. The fear of what he might do to her for failing to keep his gift safe weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d already been through so much, and the thought of facing his potential wrath was almost too much to bear.

Y/n’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she trudged on, the cold night air biting at her skin. The glow of the streetlights offered little comfort, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to mock her misfortune. She glanced down, wishing for a miracle or some kind of way to fix the situation before it reached Joker’s ears.

The sense of dread continued to gnaw at her, each step furthering her anxiety. How could she face Joker and tell him that his precious gift was now gone? The thought of his reaction, the potential fallout, was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get home, to crawl into bed, and to forget about the chaos of the night.

-

So much for feeling good. Y/n was restless throughout the night, her nerves frayed and her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. Despite the fleeting sense of fear she had of Joker showing up, sleep eluded her. She had half-expected Joker to storm through her door at any moment, demanding answers about her missing car, but the anticipated confrontation never happened.

As the hours ticked by, the night passed in a blur of fitful tossing and turning. The following day dawned with a heavy weight of dread. Y/n managed to get through the day without a single sign of Joker. Yet, the silence only heightened her apprehension. She knew deep down that he would come eventually, and she would have to face him. The thought of revealing the truth and dealing with the consequences loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she knew she’d have to deal with it.

Right on cue, the dorm door creaked open, and Joker’s voice boomed through the small room. "Honey, I'm home!" His tone was playful, but Y/n couldn't muster a smile.

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, she stared down at her hands, sniffling softly. Joker frowned, the door slamming shut with a careless kick as he stepped further inside. 

"Bunny?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Another sniffle escaped her, and without hesitation, Joker crossed the room, crouching in front of her. Gently, he tilted her chin up with a light touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and lips swollen from crying. His brows furrowed, and he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.

"Hey, Bunny...what's with the tears?" His words were casual, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Y/n swallowed, tears still threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Joker’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What’d you do?" His voice was softer now, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I...I lost my car." The words came out between sobs, her shoulders trembling with the weight of them.

Joker blinked, processing. He leaned back a little, brow arching. "Lost it? What? In a bet or something? Just tell me who, and I’ll get it back. Hell, I can get you a new one if you want." He grinned, trying to brush it off, thinking it couldn’t be that serious.

But Y/n shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No...some guy stole it. He had a gun, J. He made me give him the keys..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

Joker froze for a second, the lightheartedness vanishing from his expression. He studied her, the anger building beneath the surface, though his tone remained calm. "He had a gun?"

“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean to…” Y/n's voice was muffled by her hands as she cried, her body trembling.

Joker's jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. Someone threatened his Bunny. Someone had dared to put a gun to her, to take something from her, which ultimately meant taking from him. 

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening from the sheer force of his anger. It wasn’t the car that mattered, it was the audacity of it all. Someone had made her feel vulnerable, scared, and Joker couldn’t stomach that. His rage simmered, barely contained, but he knew he had to keep it together for her.

Leaning forward, he gently peeled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip, though firm, was tender in a way that was reserved only for her. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous but laced with an unusual gentleness. "This wasn’t your fault. You hear me?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her tear-streaked face still full of guilt.

Joker's thumb brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “No one touches what’s mine,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. The intensity in his eyes darkened, a promise of vengeance. “I’ll make sure whoever did this regrets ever breathing near you.”

Her lip quivered. "But…"

"No 'but's, Bunny. You did what you had to. They had a gun, you did the smart thing." His words were laced with conviction, his eyes burning with a wild resolve. 

Joker tilted her chin again, this time with a smirk creeping back onto his face. “And when I find this guy, well…” He chuckled darkly. “He’ll be wishing he never woke up this morning.”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling a mix of comfort and fear at his words. She knew Joker well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Whoever had taken her car wouldn’t just lose the car; they'd lose much more.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple, whispering against her skin, “You’re mine, Bunny. And I protect what's mine.”

She nodded again, feeling her pulse quicken under his possessive words. As dangerous as he was, she couldn't deny the sense of safety that came from his presence. The world outside might have been chaos, but in Joker's arms, she felt like nothing could touch her.

"Now," Joker continued, pulling back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell J however much you remember, mhmm?” His smirk widened, and for the first time since the carjacking, Y/n managed a small, shaky smile.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It all happened so fast,” she began, her voice still trembling. “I had just finished walking around and was heading back to my car. It was parked by the waterfront, you know? And...and then this guy came out of nowhere.”

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he listened, already piecing together what little information he could. His patience wasn’t exactly legendary, but when it came to her, he could wait. He needed the details.

“He…he had a gun,” Y/n continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even notice him at first until he was behind me…and he put the gun to my back. He told me to give him the keys, and I-” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I just handed them over. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Joker’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting her continue.

“He was tall, I think? I didn’t get a good look at his face…he had a hoodie on, dark clothes…But that’s all I remember.” Y/n shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t see more.”

Joker stroked his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Tall. Hoodie. Waterfront. It wasn’t much to work with, not nearly as much as he liked. He hated operating blind. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d figured out worse with less, and for his Bunny, he’d make it work. 

His mind raced, already formulating a plan. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the gangs, the small-time crooks, the desperate ones who operated in the shadows. He could already think of a few places to start looking.

Joker exhaled through his nose, a humourless grin forming on his lips as he looked down at Y/n. “Not much, huh? You’d think these idiots would be more creative.” He rubbed her arm, the action strangely soothing despite the edge in his tone. “But don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll figure it out.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty, but there was something else there too. Relief. Relief that he was taking control of the situation. That, in his own chaotic way, he was there for her.

Joker chuckled, his expression dark and predatory. “Oh, I’ll find this guy. And when I do, he’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with us.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, the intensity in his eyes growing. “No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

Y/n nodded, trusting him. Joker always found a way to get what he wanted, and she knew, without a doubt, that whoever had taken her car wasn’t going to have a good day when Joker finally caught up to him.

Joker hopped up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy. “Imma make a quick call, okay, Doll?” He shot her a grin before heading to the window. Just as he reached it, he turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And uh…block your ears,” he added.

Y/n didn’t need any convincing. She pressed her fingers firmly into her ears, muffling the sounds of the room, watching as Joker leaned halfway out the window to make his call. The sight of him there, trying to be all business while hanging out of her dorm window, was almost comical. It was clear he was doing it to keep her from overhearing the conversation, though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her safety or his secrets.

Whatever he was saying, the call didn’t last long. After a minute or two, he pulled the phone from his ear, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He slipped the phone back into his coat pocket and made his way back over to Y/n.

“And now,” he declared dramatically, “I’m all yours.” Without warning, he flopped onto the bed, half-crushing her under his weight, his arms draped lazily around her.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the suddenness of it all, her chest filling with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. It felt nice, almost normal in a way that contradicted everything about them. But that was what she loved. 

Joker rested his head against her, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the world outside her dorm fading away. In this small, stolen moment, it was just them, and Y/n let herself get lost in that, even if she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Joker sprawled out across Y/n’s bed, one arm lazily draped around her waist while his other hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Y/n leaned into his touch, letting herself sink into the moment, but a thought nagged at the back of her mind.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke up, her voice quiet but insistent. "You know, J...maybe you should give me some way to contact you."

Joker raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he continued playing with her hair, his body still relaxed. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that, Bunny?” His voice was playful.

Y/n sighed, shifting a little in his arms so she could look up at him. "I can’t keep sitting around wondering when you’re going to show up next. What if I need you? Or...just want to see you?"

Joker’s fingers paused for a second, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. “Hmm...that’s cute. Really, it is.” He pulled himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, his face closer to hers now. “But here’s the thing, Doll...You can’t have my number. Or anything like that.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “Why not?” She felt like a desperate fling, constantly begging for something more, but never quite getting it. 

Joker’s smirk grew, but his eyes darkened with a touch of seriousness. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “Because, Bunny, I can’t risk someone finding out that you’re in contact with me.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet his gaze face on. “You think someone would track me down? Just because I can reach you?”

Joker let out a low chuckle, but his expression remained cold. “Not just someone. Everyone. The moment they sniff out a little…connection between us, you’ll be in the spotlight, and trust me...” He paused, trailing his finger lightly down her cheek. “You don’t want that kind of attention. You’d be in a lot more danger than losing a car, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s stomach flipped at his words, her mind racing. He was right, of course. She didn’t want to be linked to the Joker. Not publicly, anyway. But the frustration lingered. 

"I just...hate waiting. Not knowing when I'll see you again."

Joker tilted her chin up gently. "I know, Bunny. But this is how it’s gotta be. You trust me, don’t cha?" His voice was a mix of teasing and sincerity, but she could hear the edge of caution beneath it.

Y/n nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She did trust him, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. "I trust you...It's just hard."

Joker’s grin returned, a flash of teeth as he pulled her closer. "I’ll pop in when you least expect it, like always. Keep things interesting."

Y/n managed a small smile at that, though part of her still wished she could have some control over when they’d see each other. But deep down, she knew he was right. If anyone found out about her connection to him, her life would spiral into danger even more than it already had.

For now, she had to accept that this was how it would always be unpredictable, chaotic, and entirely on his terms. But somehow, being wrapped up in his arms made it feel a little more bearable.

-

A couple of hours passed, with Joker and Y/n sprawled out on her bed in a comfortable silence. Joker had been unusually calm, his arms wrapped loosely around her, while she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She assumed he was thinking, but she liked the think he was relaxing, just a time of peace between them. But this peace couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, Joker stirred, shifting beneath her. “Alright, Bunny,” he muttered, slipping out from her hold. “Time for me to bounce.” 

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew better than to say it out loud. “Already?” she asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

“Got things to do, cars to find,” he replied, tugging on his gloves and smoothing his hair back. “You know how it is.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay longer. Joker turned to her with a smirk, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Bunny. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

With that, he made his way to her door, throwing it open like he always did. Y/n watched him as he walked, feeling the familiar pit in her stomach as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone once again.

-

It had been three days since Y/n had last seen Joker, and the absence weighed heavily on her. The first day, she had convinced herself he was just busy, caught up in whatever mischief Gotham demanded of him. But by the second day, she started to feel the creeping sadness and unease. By the third, she couldn't shake the emptiness that lingered in the pit of her stomach. 

Every knock or creak had her hoping it was him, but no such luck. She spent the days moping in her dorm room, feeling the weight of his absence more with each hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, her hunger forced her to make a rare trip down to the dining hall. As she lined up for dinner, grabbing a plate and serving herself some food, she felt strangely disconnected. The clatter of cutlery, the murmur of students talking around her, it all seemed distant, as though she was walking through a fog.

That’s when she heard it.

From the TV mounted in the corner of the dining hall, the news anchor’s voice echoed through the room. “In other breaking news, Gotham has been in fear the past few days as a series of crimes linked to the Joker continue to escalate. Authorities are urging citizens to remain vigilant—"

Y/n’s grip on her plate tightened as she froze mid-motion, her heart skipping a beat. Joker. They were talking about him. She glanced over her shoulder at the TV, feeling her chest tighten as the images of destruction flashed across the screen. As Y/n sat in the dining hall, her focus was still on the TV.

"—Police have been interviewing several local gang members who have turned up beaten and bruised over the past few days. The victims, all of whom belong to various underground organisations, have been questioned about an odd line of inquiry from what appears to be the Joker, or those associated with him. Reports indicate that he’s been asking them about a purple Ford Cortina."

Y/n’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, her stomach flipping as she heard the words. A purple Ford Cortina. Her car. She knew he would search for it, but she didn’t really think about what that would entail. 

"Authorities and gang members speculate that the vehicle in question may be linked to illicit activities, possibly connected to the drug trade. Given the Joker's relentless pursuit of this particular car, investigators believe there may be a significant reason behind his interest."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. So Joker had been trying to track down her car. The realization sent a chill down her spine. He was tearing through Gotham’s underworld, using any means necessary to find it. And if the news was anything to go by, he was leaving a trail of battered bodies in his wake. She could only imagine what Joker might do when he found the guy who actually took it.

Y/n couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing how everyone speculated that Joker’s relentless hunt for the car had to do with drugs, money, or something valuable hidden inside. The authorities and gang members alike were convinced there was a darker motive behind his obsession. But the truth? The Joker was tearing through Gotham's underworld simply because Y/n was upset about losing her car. 

All this fear and bloodshed, and it wasn’t over money or a drug deal gone wrong, it was just because Joker wanted to track down the guy who took her car and make him pay.

-

Y/n was deep in sleep when she felt a shift in the room, a faint sound of the window creaking open, followed by the softest thud against the floor. She stirred, half-aware, when a familiar presence loomed over her bed. Suddenly, she felt fingers gently brushing her cheek, a cold touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bunny," Joker's voice whispered into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, heart racing as she saw his pale face inches from hers, illuminated by the faint light from the street. "J?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes. 

"Wake up, sweetheart. I’m taking you somewhere." His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as always. He crouched next to her, his hand now resting on her shoulder. 

Groggy and disoriented, Y/n sat up in bed, her eyes barely open as she pouted. “J, it’s too late to go out,” she groaned, her voice heavy with sleep.

Joker, unfazed, strode over to the pile of clothes strewn across the floor. He sifted through them with purposeful movements until he pulled out a pair of pants, which he tossed onto the bed. “Get dressed before I have to do it for you,” he said, his tone commanding.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n tossed off her covers and struggled out of her pajama shorts, wriggling into the track pants Joker had given her. She shuffled over to him, her movements sluggish. Joker crouched down beside her, helping her into socks and shoes with a quick, messy touch.

“I’m taking you to my hideout,” Joker announced, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he tightened her shoelaces.

Y/n’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Huh?!” she exclaimed, her confusion evident.

Ignoring her reaction, Joker finished with her shoes and guided her toward the window. “Let’s go!” he urged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I’m not climbing out of the fucking window!” Y/n protested, her voice loud with alarm.

With a chuckle, Joker removed her large purple coat from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Trust me, Bunny,” he said softly but firmly, “it’ll be worth it. Now, come on.”

Joker's grin widened as he gently but firmly urged Y/n to climb onto his back. “Come on, Bunny, up up!” he said, settling her comfortably. He held her legs around his waist securely, making sure she was steady.

Y/n, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement, wrapped her arms around Joker’s neck and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of the height and the rush of cold air as she felt him step out the window.

Joker's movements were smooth and deliberate as he expertly climbed out of the window, his strong grip keeping them both secure. He maneuvered carefully down the side of the building, his confidence evident in every step. The city below looked distant and blurry to Y/n as she held on, her breaths coming in shallow, controlled gasps.

With each passing moment, the steady rhythm of Joker’s descent, combined with his soothing presence, helped to calm Y/n’s nerves. She felt a strange sense of safety despite the precarious situation. 

When they finally reached the ground, Joker gently lowered Y/n to her feet, turning to face her with a triumphant smile. “There we go. Safe and sound,” he said.

Y/n took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes to the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but she couldn’t help but smile at the exhilarating escapade.

Joker’s hand found Y/n’s with a firm yet reassuring grip, his gloved fingers wrapping around hers with a sense of purpose. “Come on, Bunny,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit alleyways of Gotham. The city’s nighttime sounds buzzed around them, but Joker's presence made the chaos feel distant and controlled.

They approached a familiar van parked inconspicuously against the shadowy backdrop of Gotham. The van’s dark windows and battered exterior made it blend seamlessly into the night, a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights.

Joker guided Y/n to the sliding door on the side of the van, giving her a gentle nudge to help her step up. “In you go,” he said with a playful wink. Y/n climbed in, her heart still racing from the excitement and the earlier climb.

Inside, the back of the van was surprisingly well-organised. A few cushions and blankets were strewn about, creating a makeshift yet cosy space. Y/n settled onto the soft surface, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You’ve made it nice in here,” Y/n remarked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way for my Doll,” Joker replied.

Joker followed her in, sliding the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned to face her, his expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he took a seat next to her.

Y/n nodded, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with both awe and amusement.

Joker grinned, leaning back against the wall of the van. “Good.”

“J?” Y/n asked softly.

Joker hummed in response, his gaze fixed on her.

“Why are you taking me to your hideout?” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

“Need a little help with some...inquiries,” Joker said vaguely

Y/n sighed, knowing that was all the answer she'd get from him. There was no point in pressing for more. Still, a part of her wasn’t concerned, she trusted him in her own way. She knew Joker would never deliberately put her in danger. At least, not anything she couldn’t handle.

The van ride was shorter than Y/n expected, probably because Joker’s henchman refused to slow the fuck down. The vehicle sped through Gotham's dark streets, swerving around corners with reckless abandon, zooming through redlights. Y/n gripped the seat, her knuckles turning white, while Joker sat unbothered, clearly used to shit driving.

Before she knew it, the van screeched to a halt. The back doors creaked open, and Y/n stepped out, barely keeping balance. 

“Why couldn’t Rocco drive instead,” Y/n muttered to herself.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit scene. Large shipping containers loomed in front of them, stacked high and scattered across the docks. Joker’s hideout was tucked between them, barely noticeable among the industrial sprawl.

“Home sweet home,” Joker grinned, helping her stand still.

Joker strode confidently ahead of the group, his long coat billowing behind him as he led Y/n through the maze of shipping containers. She trailed behind, her eyes scanning the dimly lit scene, while his henchmen fell into place around her like silent shadows. There was a tension in the air, but none of it was directed at her.

The people inside Joker's hideout were all armed, weapons strapped to their sides or held casually in their hands. Some wore clown masks, others bare, but their attire was surprisingly basic, unlike their leader. Yet, as Y/n passed through the hall, not a single pair of eyes met hers. No one dared to glance her way, as if her presence was something they had been strictly instructed to ignore.

Joker must’ve said something to them beforehand. The thought made her feel both relieved and a little unnerved. Even in his world of anarchy, he had ensured that she was untouchable here. She quickened her pace to catch up to him as they neared a large, rusted metal door.

Joker pushed open the heavy, rusted metal door with a dramatic flourish, stepping inside and gesturing grandly with both arms. "Ta-da!" he announced with an exaggerated smile, his voice echoing off the steel walls.

Y/n stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, the smell of sweat and blood hanging thick in the air. In the center of the room were three men, each strapped to a chair, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Blood dripped from their mouths, their clothes torn and stained. They looked barely conscious, heads slumped forward, held up only by the restraints binding them.

"Look at ‘em, Bunny! Didn’t they clean up nice?" Joker said with a maniacal grin, walking up to the men and giving one of them a light tap on the cheek, though the man barely reacted. He turned back to Y/n, watching her carefully, as if expecting a reaction, something between shock and awe.

Y/n, though startled, knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Joker. She exhaled quietly, her eyes flicking from Joker to the beaten men and back again.

"These guys," Joker continued, pacing in front of them like he was showing off trophies, "have been asking all the wrong questions... But lucky for them, we’ve got the right answers. Ain't that right, fellas?" His laugh echoed in the room, chillingly casual in contrast to the gruesome display in front of them.

Y/n stood frozen at the entrance of the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into the fabric of Joker’s coat as her eyes darted between the bloodied men. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of fear and nausea surged through her. She had never been this close to Joker's brutality before, seeing it from afar was one thing, but being here, in the midst of it, was another entirely.

She felt herself shaking, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do? 

Joker, noticing her reaction, moved over to her, his sharp grin softening into something more comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, fingers curling gently as he pulled her closer. 

“Hey, hey... it’s alright, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soothing despite the horror around them. He tilted her chin up, making her look at him rather than the beaten men. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to calm the tremors in her body, but her fear was overwhelming. She couldn’t stop shaking. Joker’s grip tightened, firm but not harsh. His eyes, though gleaming with mischief, held a strange sort of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her. Not while he was there.

“You recognize any of ‘em?” Joker asked, his voice smooth, but laced with a hint of danger. He gestured lazily to the men in the chairs. “One of these guys…is the prick who took your car, Doll. Which one? Huh? Take your time.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked nervously toward the men, her pulse quickening as she tried to focus, to remember the face of the man who had shoved a gun into her back. Her stomach churned as she scanned each bloodied face, her fear growing by the second. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still the shaking.

"I-I’m not sure," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Joker’s fingers on her chin turned her face to meet his gaze again.

"You’ll figure it out, Bunny," Joker said, his grin widening as he stepped back. "I believe in you."

Y/n felt her heart racing as she desperately tried to recall the face of the man who had stolen her car. She scanned the bloodied faces of the three men strapped to the chairs, her mind racing yet blank. The fear gripped her, tightening around her chest like a vice. She hadn’t turned to face her attacker that day, all she had was a fleeting impression. Now, the bruises and welts made it impossible to recognize anyone.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her nails, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. Each of her movements was a mixture of anxiety and frustration. She glanced back at Joker, who was now leaning against the wall with an expectant look. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head, silently pleading for an escape.

“You don’t know, Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. She nodded again, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Joker straightened up. He turned back to the men, clapping his gloved hands together. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, causing Y/n to jump, startled by the sudden noise. 

“Looks like you’re all gonna face the punishment!” he declared, his tone gleefully ominous.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach the trembling figures. Her heart thudded louder in her ears, each beat amplifying the rising tension. “Might wanna turn around, Bunny…” he advised in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n spun on her heels, not wanting to witness whatever Joker had planned. But the chilling sounds that erupted behind her were unmistakable. The first scream pierced through the air, raw and filled with terror, and she instinctively shoved her fingers into her ears, desperate to block out the horror unfolding just a few feet away.

The echos of pain reverberated through her body, and she fought against the rising panic within her. Each scream seemed to etch itself into her mind, a haunting reminder of the world Joker inhabited, a world she was still trying to comprehend.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably as the terrifying screams filled the air. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging her cheeks. The sounds behind her were a cruel reminder of the darkness that lurked in Joker’s world, a reality she had only glimpsed at before now.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The warmth of fear flooded through her, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear from the situation, to escape the horrifying reality unfolding behind her. 

“J…please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound. But the words felt hollo she knew he was lost in his own excitement, reveling in the chaos that he thrived on. 

Y/n’s heart raced, each beat echoing the dread that filled her. She wanted to turn around, to stop him, but she felt paralyzed by fear. The tears began to fall, trailing down her cheeks as she desperately tried to quell the rising tide of panic.

“Please, just stop,” she murmured to herself, hoping that the power of her words would somehow reach Joker, that he would sense her distress and reconsider. But deep down, she feared that he was too far gone, too enveloped in his sadistic joy to listen to her cries for mercy. 

The room seemed to close in on her, the weight of the situation pressing down harder with every agonizing second. She felt so small, so helpless, trapped in a world she didn’t belong to, as tears continued to fall.

As the unsettling sounds of distress echoed through the room, the heavy metal door creaked open, interrupting the violent scene. A figure stepped inside, a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his face marked with the grime of the streets. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the trembling form of Y/n before focusing on Joker, who was still reveling in the fear he had instigated.

“Boss!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “We got a hit on the car!”

Joker paused mid-motion, turning his head slightly, though the glint in his eyes hadn’t faded. The man who had entered looked nervously at Y/n, noting her shaking form before turning back to Joker, eyes darting between the gruesome scene and his unsettling leader.

Joker’s grip on the nearest man loosened, and he slowly straightened up, a wicked grin spreading across his painted face. He wiped the blood from his gloves, flicking it off to the side as if it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Well, well, Bunny,” Joker drawled, turning his attention away from the bloodied men and back to Y/n, who was still shaking, her eyes filled with tears. He strode over to her, ignoring the mess he’d left behind. “Looks like we found your ride.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he gently cupped her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his. “No more tears now, hmm? You’ll get what’s yours.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek before glancing at the man who had brought the news. “Show me.”

Joker reached for her side and gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit. Y/n's legs felt shaky beneath her, still trembling from the horrors she'd just witnessed, but she followed his lead, her mind clouded with fear and confusion.

"Come on, Bunny. We’re done here," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge that left no room for hesitation.

Y/n felt his hand tighten slightly as they approached the door, his presence offering a strange sense of security in the midst of her unease. The henchmen in the room stepped aside without a word, avoiding eye contact as they always did, heads bowed in silent deference. 

As they walked out, Joker kept his arm steady around her, pulling her closer as they passed through the rusted doors and into the dimly lit hallway. Y/n’s breath felt heavy in her chest, but with Joker leading her, she didn’t dare look back at the screams and chaos they left behind.

Once outside the room, the night air hit her face like a cold slap, grounding her slightly as the noise from the other side of the door faded away. Joker leaned down, whispering into her ear with a teasing smirk, "Told you I’d take care of it, Bunny."

Y/n nodded, still too shaken to speak. Joker helped Y/n into the back of the van with a firm but reassuring grip, and then climbed in after her. Rocco was already behind the wheel, adjusting his mirrors and starting the engine with a smooth, deliberate motion. Y/n could already tell that this ride would be different from the wild, reckless journey that brought them to the docks. Rocco wasn’t the crazy, pedal-to-the-floor type, and the knowledge that he’d drive with some level of sanity brought Y/n an odd sense of comfort after the mess she’d just been through.

Joker settled beside her, stretching out casually like they were heading to a late-night diner rather than retrieving a stolen car. His calmness, while unsettling, made her feel a little more anchored in the moment. The van pulled away from the warehouse slowly, the rhythmic hum of the engine cutting through the tension that lingered in the air.

Y/n glanced over at Joker, who was staring out the window with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As they wound through the quiet streets of Gotham, her nerves gradually settled, though a sense of dread still lurked beneath the surface. She knew they were heading toward the location of her stolen car, but what would happen when they got there? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, trying to shake the images of the beaten men from her mind. Joker, however, looked relaxed, his hands drumming lightly against his knee, as if this was just another night for him.

Rocco pulled the van into a slow crawl as they approached the location. Y/n's eyes darted out the window, scanning the area nervously. It was an abandoned lot, scattered with debris and lined with broken streetlights that flickered weakly in the darkness. In the middle of the lot sat her car, the familiar purple Ford Cortina gleaming under a dim light. Too pristine, too untouched, too perfect.

The van came to a gentle stop, and Rocco shifted into park. Y/n’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Everything about the scene felt too neat. The car was just sitting there, almost like it had been gift-wrapped and left for them.

Joker sat up, his usual smirk fading as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowing. Y/n swallowed hard. Even she could feel it. It was a setup. A trap, perhaps. The whole thing felt staged, like someone was waiting for them to make the first move. The silence around them was heavy, too heavy for Gotham's rough streets. 

Joker’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg, faster this time, his mind clearly working through possibilities. Without turning his head, he spoke, his voice low. 

“Stay here, Bunny.”

Y/n’s gut twisted as she glanced nervously at him, unsure of what would happen next. Something in her told her this wasn’t just about retrieving a stolen car anymore. 

Joker slipped out of the van with a calmness that contradicted the tension crackling in the air. Rocco stayed in the driver's seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror, making sure Y/n was still there. She felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

From her spot in the van, Y/n could see Joker approach the car with slow, deliberate steps. His silhouette was sharp against the dim light that cast long shadows over the lot. He circled the Cortina, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was expecting something to jump out at him. His movements were careful, precise, like he was reading the scene for any sign of a trap.

Y/n held her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly. She had a bad feeling about this, everything was too still. Her heart pounded in her chest as Joker stopped in front of the car. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Rocco’s eye, a silent signal passing between them.

Rocco tensed, gripping the steering wheel. Y/n could feel the shift in the air, the anticipation building as if the whole scene was waiting for someone to spring the trap.

Suddenly, Joker’s hand shot out to open the door of the Cortina, and as if on cue, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt filled the night air. Several black cars surged into the lot from all sides, headlights blinding as they formed a rough circle around the Cortina, and Joker.

Y/n gasped, her fear confirmed. It was a trap.

“Boss!” Rocco yelled, his hand already reaching for a gun stashed under the dashboard. Joker didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened up, his head tilting with that familiar, unsettling smile curling his lips. The chaos was brewing, but Joker looked like he was about to enjoy the show.

The screeching tires belonged not to gang members or rival thugs, but to police cars. Dozens of them, their lights flashing violently against the dark backdrop. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the unmistakable sirens piercing the tense silence. These weren’t just any vehicles. It was Gotham's Police Force, and they had Joker surrounded.

Joker’s eyes gleamed with twisted delight as the police vehicles formed a barricade around him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he straightened up and flicked a glance toward the flashing lights, his smile widening like this was all part of the plan.

Rocco cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Boss, it's the Gotham MCU," he growled, already reaching for the gun stashed under his seat.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the police cars, her hands trembling as fear overtook her. This was bad, really bad. 

From the distance, officers began spilling out of the vehicles, guns drawn and aimed directly at Joker. They moved like a well-oiled machine, creating a blockade that left no gaps. The realization hit Y/n hard. They had set up a trap, and Joker had walked right into it.

"Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" one officer shouted through a megaphone, his voice distorted but authoritative.

But Joker? He only laughed. That spine-chilling laugh echoed through the lot, a sound so unsettling that even some of the cops shifted uneasily. Joker turned his head slightly, as if to make sure Y/n was still watching. Then, without a hint of fear, he raised his arms slowly in the air, playing along.

Rocco looked back at Y/n, his face a mixture of worry and anticipation. "Stay low, and don’t move. Got it?" he barked, his voice low and urgent.

Y/n nodded, but inside she was spiraling. Her stomach churned, her pulse raced. How were they going to get out of this?

Joker must have made a subtle hand gesture, quick, nearly imperceptible. But Rocco saw it. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly tucked his gun back under the seat. Y/n glanced between them, confusion swirling in her chest. 

“What…what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco’s jaw clenched as he turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, the van roared to life. Y/n's confusion deepened, but before she could even process it, Rocco slammed his foot on the gas, and the van jerked forward. 

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her hands bracing against the seat as the van sped away from the scene.

Her head whipped back, heart hammering in her chest as the distance between them and Joker grew. She could see the police closing in on him, all their focus trained on capturing Gotham’s most notorious criminal. None of them even glanced at the van speeding away. 

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she watched Joker stand there, calm and collected. The flashing lights, the shouting officers, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he was smiling.

Through the haze of panic, Y/n’s vision locked on him as the police neared. And there he was, standing completely still, his gaze never leaving hers. That familiar, wicked grin spread across his face as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Like this was just another one of his games.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over her. He was letting her go. Letting her escape. But at what cost? 

Her fingers gripped the seat, knuckles turning white as they sped away, the van tearing through the streets of Gotham, leaving Joker to the police.

-

A/N: OoOoOoOooo, J's been caught~ and poor Y/n still don't got her car back :C Thank you for reading this part, and thank you for being patient, I really appreciate everyone 💚 Not too sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, but we'll see thank you again 🫶