#and that if you wanna be unorthodox you just gotta prove why the way you went about it was the best choice for it

[shararan]

good news: started shortfic 300 words

good news 2: its binggehua

??? news: its pushing the boundaries of a shortfic as im at 1500 words and cant stop for a break

worse news: my back is dying

good news 3: still kicking and screaming as the words flow like waterfall

less good but also ???? news: its in swedish

not good but kinda makes me laugh news: ill be the one to take yet another fandoms swedish fic virginity on ao3

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 1 | The Marauders: Chase Her

A/N: I’m back, witches! ;) With the long-teased BAND AU!! Also @inakindofdaydream​ here’s your tag as promised, hope you enjoy :)) More Marauders in my masterlist! Read on AO3! - J xx

“Oh, Lily, darling, isn’t it a bit…” Narcissa Black appraised the outfit with a derisive sniff, “childish?”

It was a floor-length gown, trimmed to flow with the model’s figure exactly, thanks to Dorcas’ design skills. The highlight was the hot pink lava-lamp-like mixture oozing between the solid pale pink inner layer and the clear exterior material; Lily, a chemistry undergraduate who’d founded the Evans brand on Etsy as a hobby, had made it from scratch. Underneath it all was a complicated circulation system of refrigerant to keep the wearer cool, courtesy of Marlene, who was studying to be a mechanical engineer. Lily had tested it on herself and had the light burns on her legs to prove it, but it was worth it for the 60s-themed Met Gala. That is, if she could convince her client to wear it.

“Hardly,” she responded, “The design says you're playful, but the slinky cut and deep-V neckline say you’re a woman ready to conquer the carpet.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes, “Serves me right for selecting a designer last minute. All the professionals are booked.” 

Lily tried to think of a popsicle or winter, anything to cool the angry flush she could feel burning in her cheeks.

The tall blonde was unbothered as she strutted around the mannequin, inspecting the low back and the spaghetti straps, before extending her arms out to Dorcas and Marlene, who were standing by, “Fine, fit me.”

“I got it,” Lily said quickly when she saw Dorcas’ jaw drop in indignance at being treated like a maid. 

Marlene successfully occupied the deeply offended designer until Mary, the brand's publicist, announced that it was time. 

Lily and their client left the hotel for the iconic New York museum in a chartered limousine among an entire fleet of them. Although dressed plainly in a black sweater and pencil skirt, Lily’s bright red hair made her stand out among the Black family’s monochrome entourage. 

“Sirius, who’s that?” James pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and tiptoed to get a better look through the sea of celebrities and their teams spilling onto the carpet. 

“I don’t know, but she must be nice because I’m not related to her,” said the dark-haired man, who’d been essentially coerced into attending this event with the rest of his crazy reality television family. 

“Starting to not regret letting you drag me along,” while his friend walked the carpet, James followed the lady with the designer access credentials who looked at everything around her in unabashed wonder.

“James Potter!” someone called out.

He turned around and noticed too late that it was a reporter.

“How does it feel to win a record deal after your performance in the Highland Music Festival?” 

“Will you be performing on The House of Black?” 

“When is your debut album coming out?”

James held up a finger for silence the way he’d seen his mum do plenty-a-time, “I’m so grateful - especially to my music teacher, Minerva McGonagall. I don’t think my best friend will even be on that show anymore and we do everything together. We’re in writing sessions now, just having fun and seeing what we can do, but we’re very excited to share our music with everyone soon, especially our amazing fans.”

“Who are you wearing?”

“Who are you most excited to meet tonight?”

“Are you excited for The Weird Sisters’ performance?”

It went on this way until James could politely extricate himself with the boyish excuse of needing to use the bathroom. He practically sprinted to the tents at the end of the carpet. 

“My armpits are sweating, Lily!”

There she was. A picture of calm amidst the commotion. And her name was Lily.

“Cissy, calm down -”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Siri!”

“See, this is why I can’t work with you lot anymore! You’re bat-shit crazy! Of course, your pits sweat, you’re a human being - not a fucking Barbie doll!”

“You haven’t the faintest idea of the impossible standards I hold myself to because I actually strive to be my best self unlike you, you lazy dog!”

“Are you getting this?” Bella Black, whispered with a toothy smile to the camera that was filming the entire exchange.

"How's it going, Molly?" James addressed the short videographer with auburn space buns. 

She made a funny face at him and he laughed. Molly smiled just a bit in spite of the tensions she worked around daily. 

"Narcissa," a clear voice pulled his attention back towards the girl named Lily, "I believe you've just nicked the wire that runs the cooling system with your heel," she crouched down and hooked it back up, "There you are."

James took this as his cue to pull Sirius away before another argument began. Also, he may or may not have wanted to get even closer to the red-head, "C'mon, mate, let it go, yeah? It's not worth it."

Narcissa huffed and strutted away. Lily had no choice but to follow at her heels, but to her admirer, she made it look like a power move. 

"Ugh, remind me never to do that again!" Sirius collapsed onto the couch in the recording studio they rented next door to their label, Castle Records. 

"James?" Remus asked his less distraught friend.

"Narcissa."

"Ah. At least it wasn't Bella."

The bespectacled boy sat at his drum kit and began to play a couple of mid-tempo rounds on the snare, cymbals, and base, creating the mood of a pursuit. 

"Ooh, I like that," Peter switched the settings on his electronic keyboard to an eighties synth and joined in the jam.

Remus added the bass while Sirius plugged in his electric guitar. 

It was three the next afternoon when Remus finished mixing the track and Sirius had no more unorthodox but cool ideas like, "Record the tires squealing while I  do donuts in the parking lot on my motorbike and add it to the chorus!"

However, James, being ever the perfectionist when it came to music, kept wanting to re-record the drums and the others couldn't even talk him out of it because truthfully, it sounded better every time he did it. 

When they reached the one-week mark, though, Sirius had to take action. "I called Molly. She's going to record our music video today and you know she's quick in post-production so whatever you've got is what we're running."

"Ugh, I hate you!" said James. He didn't. 

Molly arrived at nine sharp and set up the lighting, did their hair and makeup, helped them pick coordinating but not matching outfits, and at ten exactly, called, "Action!"

Don't let her doe eyes fool you

She's been winning since the day she was born

Darlin' don't wanna lose you 

Je ne parle pas français, mais j'adore

So I'm done playing hard to get

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

 You're running circles in my head

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

And every word you ever said

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Is calling my soul outta my body, must be in heav'n

Whoo!

"LilyLilyLily!" Mary squealed, barging into her friend's hotel room and clambering onto the bed, "We made it!"

Narcissa's lava dress had been trending all week and the Evans brand online store had finally crashed with the volume of orders they were trying to process at once for clothes, accessories, make up, and fragrances.

Her name is bloomin' in my heart

And every beat I beat is hers alone

Darlin' think of what we could start 

Jamais seul ou triste, jamais pas en mode

"Jimbo! Jumbo! Jambo!" Sirius woke up his roommate with their first single blasting from his phone, "We made it!"

Their Chase Her music video had over a million views and the song was number one on Spotify. 

And if our paths cross just this once

Could you be mine and I'll be yours

Tonight, darlin', we dance, we dance

Nous pourrions vivre pour toujours

Sirius guffawed at the comment section, "James: I don't speak French; Also James: Nous pourrions vivre pour toujours."

"Co-written by Google Translate," the singer quipped, putting on his glasses so he could see it all for himself, his smile coming close to breaking his pretty face.

Done being someone you'll forget

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

 Cuz you're all I got gon' through my head

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Yeah every word you ever said

(You gotta chase her, chase her, gotta gotta chase her)

Is calling my soul outta my body, must be in heav'n

Whoo!

[euphoria-vmin7]

Gnossienne Pt.2 | myg

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: again fluff for right now, non idol! au, future angst, future gore, mentions of blood

words: 4,505

--summary: staying away from Yoongi proves to be harder than you thought. but certain things happen at home that make you wonder if it’s a good thing that he’s away.

a/n: sorry for the wait everyone!! here’s part 2! I’ll publish part 3 asap. I hope you all like it :)

Gnossienne

gno·ssi·enne

n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life

****

| part 1 | part 2

You blinked in confusion. The words didn’t register in your mind until your eyes scanned them over multiple times. 

Name Min Yoongi. Stab wound to the lower abdomen. Name Min Yoongi. Stab wound to the lower abdomen. Name Min Yoongi. Stab wound. Name Min Yoongi. Stab wound. Min Yoongi. Stab wound. Min Yoongi. Stab wound. 

You ran to grab your phone, heart hammering worriedly as you tripped over yourself. You hastily began scrolling for his contact, fingers shaking, before holding up the ringing device to your ear.

You gnawed on your fingernails, terrified, as you awaited his voice. 

Except it rang once, twice, three times, four times, five times. 

“If you’re hearing this, it means I don’t wanna talk so stop calling m--”

You angrily ended the call before redialing his number. 

It rang once, twice, three times--

“Ugh hello?” 

You quieted. Pulling the phone away from your ear, you checked your screen quickly. You had indeed dialed your boyfriend’s number…

….so why was this voice one that didn’t belong to your boyfriend? 

Yoongi had a pretty deep voice, but this voice could definitely compete with his. It was deep and rich like honey, a dulcet baritone that was melodious to the ears; it was a contrast you weren’t used to with Yoongi’s voice. 

“Hello~?” the voice rang out, now taking on a slightly irritated tone. You gulped and steadied your voice as best as you could. 

“Who is this?” 

“Uhm who is this?” the voice asked sassily. 

“This is Min Yoongi’s girlfriend and last I checked this was Min Yoongi’s phone number. So who the hell is this?” you were proud that you could come off more confident then you felt. The truth was, your heart was beating a million miles an hour, both out of fear and confusion. 

“Oh shit….” you heard him quietly curse. “Right, sorry. I’m Yoongi’s cousin. Uh, Yoongi is kinda asleep right now. No offense, but isn’t it kinda late for you to be calling him?”

It just struck you that it was nearing 1:30 in the morning. 

“R-Right,” you mentally facepalmed. “Sorry...I just---is Yoongi okay?” 

“What…? Uhm yeah he’s fine? He’s a little stressed about his grandma, but we all are,” 

“H-He’s not...hurt, is he?” you asked nervously. 

The man quieted for a second. 

“Hurt? No,” he chuckled a little awkwardly. “He’s fine,”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, before cracking a smile. 

“Oh okay, thank you. Just tell Yoongi to call me in the morning please?” 

“Sure,” he yawned. 

“Sorry for waking you,” you chuckled sheepishly. 

“It’s okay,” he smiled through the phone. “Goodnight,” 

When he hung up, you realized that you didn’t ask for his name. 

You were awoken by ringing. 

Groaning, you pushed the disheveled strands of your hair away from your face. 

“Who the hell is bothering me this early?” you complained, blindly reaching for your phone. When your eyes focused on the ID, you had a miniature seizure. 

“SHIT!” you cursed, fumbling with your own fingers before picking up the phone. 

“Baby?” Yoongi’s voice rang through the speaker. 

“Yoongi?!” you questioned. “Oh thank God,” 

“Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you call last night?” 

You sighed with relief. 

“I’m just so glad you’re okay. Your cousin said that you were fine but I just had to make sure for myself,” 

“Yeah, he told me that you called at around 1 in the morning? What happened?” he asked, confused. 

“Oh...uhm….” you suddenly felt nervous. Why did it feel like you were revealing something big to him? 

Almost like something bad was bound to happen. 

“....Oh I get it, you just couldn’t stay away from me for that long, huh?” you could hear his cocky smirk from the other side of the phone. 

“Haha,” you chuckled, though it wasn’t very enthusiastic. Yoongi immediately picked up on it. 

“(Name), sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

His tone coaxed the words out of you. 

“Well, in the mail we got a letter from the hospital and it said…” you sighed. “....it said that you had a stab wound to the stomach,” 

You heard his breath hitch. 

“And I-I panicked. I mean I didn’t know why we got the letter now and that made me think that it happened recently but then I realized that I didn’t see you get hurt at all when you were home so it had to have been that it happened while you were there in Daegu or it could be that it happened a while ago and they just forgot to send it-” 

“(Name), calm down. You’re rambling,” Yoongi interrupted. You shut your mouth quickly. “It’s some kind of mistake, alright. I’m fine. Wouldn’t I tell you if something like that happened to me?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed easily, knowing that there was truth behind his question. “Yeah, sorry, I was being stupid and paranoid,” 

“No baby, it’s okay you were just scared. I’ll call the hospital and clear that up. Don’t think about it anymore. Thanks for worrying about me,” he smiled through the phone. 

“Don’t thank me for that,” you laughed a little. “Anyway, how are you doing? How’s your grandmother?” 

You listened to him sigh as you stood up to start getting ready for the day. 

“She’s okay. I think she’s getting better,” 

“That’s good to hear,” 

“So that means I shouldn’t be away from home for too much longer...maybe like a few days or---uh actually maybe a week?” 

You frowned at the unorthodox stutter and confusion in his voice. 

“Well..okay?” you said, though it came out in a more questioning manner. “Take all the time you need,” 

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to keep me away so that you can invite some hot dude over?” and just like that the regular teasing was back. You snorted. 

“Well maybe one,” you joked and Yoongi chuckled. 

“Don’t even think about, sweetheart,” he warned playfully and you giggled. 

“I won’t, I won’t. You know I only love you,” you reassured. 

“You’d better,” he chuckled. “Wait...aren't you late for work?” 

You paled. 

“CRAP!!” 

Ignoring Yoongi’s laughs on the other end, you quickly began running around your bedroom, trying to pull on something presentable. 

“I gotta go, Yoongi. I’ll call you later?” you asked, stuffing some toast in your mouth. 

“Okay, baby. Bye,” 

“Bye Yoongi,”

And then you ran to work.  

***

Your finger was getting tired of the continuous scrolling you were doing and your eyes felt overused as they lethargically scanned the screen of your laptop. Your senior had asked for your report in two days. The morning of the day after tomorrow, you’d be handing her a report all about gangsters in Seoul. 

Without any solid proof.

That’s right. After more than a whole month of searching you had made no progress with finding any evidence that the gang existed. It made you feel terribly upset that all of your hard work would be thrown out the window so fast and without even a bit of consideration. 

To make things worse, Yoongi was still in Daegu, so you had no one to comfort you and rant to. 

You frowned at yourself. 

Wasn’t that a little selfish? Here you were complaining that you needed Yoongi for a stupid work article while he was alone in Daegu suffering in fear for his grandmother’s health. 

But the fact that you couldn’t fix either of those problems was annoying you. 

You groaned loudly and fell back on your bed. Might as well accept your fate early and go do something else useful. You shut the screen of your laptop closed and stood up from the bed before making your way to the kitchen to make something edible. You turned on the stove and began to boil water, intent on making some pasta. You had to correct yourself when you realized that you were making it for only one, not two. You frowned. You missed Yoongi. 

Your pasta was just reaching al dente when the doorbell rang. You blinked in confusion. Who would come over at this time of night? 

You quickly checked your notifications for Yoongi’s name, thinking and more so, hoping, that he had come home and wanted to surprise you. The lack of what you were looking for suspended most of that hope and you quickly rushed to the door, smoothing your hair down in attempts to look the least bit presentable. 

Seemingly for nothing because when you wrench the door open, you don’t find anything looking back at you except the regular view. You frowned in confusion, craning your neck from right to left to find a remaining clue of who had approached your door. You were about to dismiss it as some kids fooling around when you looked down. A brown box lay on the welcome mat (the mat that so graciously welcomed people with a ‘leave the money and go’ printed across it; Yoongi picked it). You picked up the box and headed back into the apartment, kicking the front door shut with a slight raise of your leg. You carefully scanned for a sender’s address but all you could see was the word FRAGILE scribbled across it in black Sharpie. It looked like some kind of amateur packaging, not like the typical post that came from the regular mail. The packaging tape was mediocrely pushed against the opening flaps to hold them together and the edges of the box were bent, as if it had been used multiple times before. 

After finishing the pasta, you grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, before quickly slicing all of the tape and the flaps opened up. You looked inside to find something unexpected. 

There was no styrofoam or plastic that would have normally come with a fragile package. Instead, there were two items inside the otherwise empty box. 

You pulled the first item out. A folded piece of paper. 

Opening it, you began to read the few words scrawled across it: 

You’re welcome. Use it well. 

You frowned. You didn’t recognize the handwriting at all. First of all, who the heck was this? What did they do that deserved your gratitude? And use what well? 

You flipped the paper over and felt your breath catch in your throat. 

Don’t tell anyone about this. Danger is closer than you think, princess.

What? What the hell was going on?! What danger? And who is this?

That’s all that was on the paper so you reached into the box for the other item. A CD. 

You got up and turned the T.V on, heart hammering in your chest. Sliding the disc into the slot, you waited nervously for it to load, taking a seat on the couch and suddenly craving Yoongi’s comforting presence. The loading sign disappeared. 

At first, it was nothing but black. Then the scene unfolded. 

Someone was filming. It was nighttime in the video. 

“What are you doing?” someone hissed in the video. The screen panned to the voice, revealing a man. You couldn’t see anything but his eyes. A black mask covered the bottom half of his face and he had on a leather jacket that was zipped up to reveal no skin. 

“Something important,” the filmer responded. He too was male, though he sounded a bit younger than the first. Hearing the filmer’s voice, the first man smirked. Or so was assumed by the stretch of his eyes. 

“You’re a genius,” someone from behind praised, along with a few other murmurs that told you that the filmer wasn’t alone. You heard the filmer chuckle before he moved closer to the edge of the building wall they were hiding in. The camera moved to peek into the alleyway.

And you gasped aloud. 

Seven men stood in the alleyway. They were tall, built, and clad in all black. They all wore practically the same thing. Black masks across their faces, black shirts, black pants (though a few were definitely ripped skinny jeans), and big heavy black combat boots. That wasn’t what caught your attention though. It was the gun resting on each hip that had you nervous. And their jackets. Because on their jackets was it. The thing you had been looking for since the day you got your assignment. 

The logo. 

The logo from the old woman’s alleyway was printed on the breast pocket of each jacket. It was a blood red symbol, although the shape was quite simple. Two trapezoids were facing each other, short side almost touching and you wondered how such a measly shape could have shiver going up your spine. When you saw the back of a few of them, the symbol was switched, this time the longer sides close together but still in deep red. 

This was it. This was the gang. 

The tallest of the group stepped forward, towards a crate you just realized was there. Along with being the tallest of the group, he exuded an intimidating aura. His light brown hair was styled in a way that made messy look confident. You couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were void of emotion, his perfect brows resting in an unimpressed frown. He snapped his fingers. 

“Open it, Number 4,” he ordered and the deep voice that resonated through the quiet alley made you curl up on the couch. Another man stepped forward, a crowbar in his hand. He too, was tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than the first. His hair, unexpectedly, was a faded red and he gave the man a curt nod. Raising the metal bar in his hands, he eased the end into the lid and pushed hard. It popped off and Number 4 stepped away.

“Check it, 6,” the tallest said, turning away. Another man, as tall as Number 4, stepped forward. His hair was different, a pretty silver with a black bandana wrapped around his forehead. He crouched down in front of the crate and began rummaging through it. As he did, you looked to the bulkiest one of the lot. He had longer hair of a dark black that fell in front of his narrowed eyes. A plethora of piercings graced his ears and the muscles of his biceps strained through the leather of his jacket. But you were more focused on the knife he was skillfully twirling between his fingers. 

Then you moved to another one. He was shorter in comparison to the rest of the group, but he could easily tower over you if he so desired. His hair, a shade of faded orange was messily unkempt, as though he had run his fingers through the strands multiple times. He too, was built, toned muscles visible through the outline of his clothes. He stood leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed and a leg crossed over the other, though he gave off a certain type of grace. 

The next was too was a bit shorter in comparison. He had dark black hair and nothing more could be said except that he was basically shrouded in black. Even his eyes looked like they were black holes. The next one had light brown hair and a very big physique. His shoulders were basically broader than your future. His eyes were trained on Number 6 as he rummaged through the crate. One of his hands rested on his gun. 

“All good, Sir,” Number 6 replied in the deepest voice you had ever heard, shutting the crate quickly.  

You couldn’t help but notice that they never gave names. Smart. 

“Good. 5, 2,” was all the leader, or you assumed, the leader said before he cocked his head towards the crate. The orange-haired man and the broad-shouldered man stepped forward and pulled the crate up together. 

That’s when you noticed the big one. His breathing stilled and his shoulders tensed. The twirling of the knife stopped. 

“Hyung,” was all he said, his voice strong. The leader made eye contact with him and then Knife Boy whirled around at the speed of light and chucked the knife straight at you. 

You let out a shriek in the middle of your quiet apartment as the knife hit the wall. 

“Shit!” the filmer yelled and another voice behind him yelled, “Fall back!” 

The screen shook as the group of men ran before the video came to an abrupt halt. 

You sat in your living room with wide eyes, pressed back against the couch as far as you could go. You legitimately thought that knife was going to pierce you through the eyes. Your heart was pounding like crazy as a spectrum of emotions ran through you. That was possibly one of the most thrilling things you had ever seen but a streak of happiness cut through that. 

This was your proof. 

This had everything you needed to actually submit this and have it published. It was perfect. 

You stopped. 

But wait, this was given to you by some mysterious stranger who was warning you of some kind of trouble and danger. Was this safe to use? 

But they had given it to you with the message of ‘Use it well.’ So didn’t that mean that you could? 

You thought about it. The gang in the video could so easily track you down for exposing them. They could hurt you, and the ones you loved. Was it worth that risk? 

No. No, definitely not. 

You pulled out the CD and placed it back in the box before closing it up, your heart sinking with disappointment.  

As you sat down and stabbed a fork into your pasta you couldn’t help but think about how nice it would have been if you did manage to get some good evidence. Despite obviously having perfectly good evidence sitting on the counter. 

No, (Name), it’s not safe. 

But maybe you could use it. If you used it, it was almost 100% sure you’d be recognized by your seniors and your boss. Recognition could give you a promotion. You could finally start earning more money and win back your parents. You wouldn’t have to restrict yourself whenever you saw a pretty dress that was above the budget. Maybe you could even buy a better house for you and Yoongi to live in together. And then, perhaps you’d be able to comfortably pay for a wedding. Marry Yoongi, have kids--

You stood up and ran to the box, wrenching it open and pulling out the disc. 

You had some downloading to do. 

***

“(Name), can I see you in my office for a minute?” 

You quietly groaned as your senior’s voice interrupted the conversation you were having. 

[2:13 p.m.] (Name): ugh the witch is bothering me again 

[2:14 p.m.] Grumpy: lol good luck  

[2:14 p.m.] Grumpy: call me after work 

[2:14 p.m.] (Name): ok <3

Clicking your phone shut, you stood up from your desk and started walking towards your senior’s office, not before throwing Seo Jin a pained expression, to which she responded with a sympathetic smile. When you arrived, you gave three knocks to the wood. 

“Come in,” 

Pushing the door open, you peeked inside and your senior was staring straight at you. 

Oh God.

“Shut the door, (Name),” she said before motioning for you to sit down in front of her. You did as told. 

“I read your report,” she stated, holding up the files between her fingers. You nodded nervously. 

“I think you did a great job,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. You couldn’t help but beam. 

“You have some great information here, along with a good setup for the interview. But what really tied it together was that evidence! Where on earth did you find that?” she asked curiously. You stilled for a second before spewing: 

“Ah, you know you can find anything on the internet!” 

She laughed a little. 

“That’s true. Well I’m glad you found it. This is a very good article. I’ve forwarded a copy to the boss and she’ll review it. Depending on her take, we can talk about publication, yeah?” 

You nodded eagerly.

“Thank you so much!” you said excitedly, bowing a full 90 degrees as she chuckled. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t be too happy. Now get back to work; don’t you have those files to organize?” 

“Yes! I’ll get right to that, Ma’am!” 

After another thank you and eager smiles, you stepped out of her office and squealed silently before whipping out your phone. Clicking on Yoongi’s contact, you started typing: 

you’ll never guess what just happened to me….

You paused. 

You never did tell Yoongi that you submitted your article. You didn’t want him to worry about the evidence on top of all of his stress at home. So maybe it would be better to surprise him once he got home. Yeah, once he got home. 

You tucked your phone back into your pocket and headed back to your desk. 

***

Two days later, you found yourself in your senior’s office again, this time not alone. 

“I have to say, Ms.(Name), this article is very professional,” your boss remarked as you sat quietly. “Your use of evidence is exactly what we need to make this a great hit!” 

You looked up with wide eyes. 

“Wait, so does that mean-?” 

“(Name), we’ll be revealing your article to the public. It will be aired on the news along with the footage you provided. Congratulations,” she smiled. You couldn’t believe it. The thing you have been working at for so long was finally happening!

“O-Oh my goodness, thank you so much,” you stuttered not able to coherently form words. 

“Mhm, and I believe that success like yours shouldn’t come without reward. How would you like to discuss a promotion?”

You couldn’t wait to tell Yoongi. 

***

You sat on the cold seat, bouncing your knee eagerly, eyes trained on the doorway. You were absolutely sure Yoongi would walk out of there soon. It had stretched into a little over a month since you had last seen him and it felt like forever. Now you were waiting for him at the train station. 

“....substantial information that gangs are running rampant in Seoul. A witness statement describes the men seen: “He was wearing all black and on the back of his jacket there was a logo. It was some kind of diamond. And he was holding a gun.” Investigators have reason to believe that this gang may be more dangerous than first thought. The witness attested to hearing a gun go off right outside of their home. Now we wonder just how many gangs run around our city and what they really do. Here we have some footage of an encounter with the gang….”

You eagerly watched the newsreel, seeing the clip that you received playing on the screen. You couldn’t help but be proud that your work was making the city more informed. You tore your eyes away from the screen when the clamor started. An influx of passengers flooded in from the platform and you excitedly stood up, searching for your boyfriend. You beamed when you caught sight of him looking around the station. Clad in simple black jeans and a dark blue hoodie, your boyfriend never looked so handsome. You eagerly ran towards him and he didn’t have any time to react before you threw yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around his body, you nuzzled into his warmth and breathed in his scent. He winced as you squeezed him but then relaxed, holding you close. 

“I knew you missed me too much,” he muttered and you pulled back to give him a sharp smack. 

“Shut up,” you frowned up at him. “I just missed your cooking,” 

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before pushing you away gently. 

“Fine, I’ll just go back--” 

“No, it’s fine! I’ll allow you to come to my house. But not because I like you or anything,” you said clutching his arm with a cheeky smile. He chuckled a little bit, eyes softening down at you. 

“Missed you, (Nickname),” 

You smiled. 

“Missed you, too, Yoongs. Now, will you buy me some ice cream on the way home?” 

***

“Okay, there aren’t any signs that there were any men here while I was gone,” Yoongi remarked playfully while inspecting the house after he had dropped his bag. 

“Maybe I covered my tracks up well,” you responded, putting his other suitcase against the wall. He glared at you, though it was hard to take him seriously when his gummy smile was on full display. 

“You know what you didn’t cover up? That,” Yoongi said, pointing at the couch where empty tubs of ice cream and piles of blankets lay from all of your Netflix marathons. 

“Ehehe,” you chuckled weakly. “I meant to clean that,” 

He raised a brow and fixed you with a pointed stare. 

“I was going to! Honest!!” you defended, though now your smile was on show. 

“Uh huh, sure you were. You remind me of a child, you know that?” he said, shaking his head with a grin before turning to go into the bedroom. 

“Was that a compliment?” you called after him. 

“No~~” 

You pouted before following him and taking a seat on the bed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yoongi. I’m clearly the more mature one in this relationship,” 

“Sure. When I was turning 4 years old, you were just born, sweetheart. I’m definitely more mature; I’ve been in this world longer,” he replied, now pulling out clothes from his suitcase. 

“Yeah but girls mature faster than boys, don’t they?” you countered. 

“Not 4 years faster,” he smiled. 

“Fine, you win this round,” you admitted defeat, shoulders slumping. His smile widened a bit at that, taking in your playfully dejected pout before he leaned forward to peck your lips. You blinked before smiling. 

“Hey Yoongs?” 

“Hmm?” 

“You never told me about your cousin. The one I woke up at 2 in the morning,” you giggled. 

“Oh haha, doesn’t matter. He deserved that. Lazy ass,” Yoongi muttered with a discreet roll of his eyes. You laughed. 

“Why? You don’t like him?” you asked. He shook his head. 

“It’s nothing like that. Of course, I like him. He’s practically my closest family. I just like bullying him since he’s younger. You know, like how I am with you?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you replied sarcastically to which he grinned. “What’s his name?” 

Yoongi paused for a second. 

“Taehyung,” 

“Ohh,” you nodded. “How old his he?” 

“23, but why are you so curious?” he asked skeptically. 

“I don’t know. He sounded cute,” you risked teasing and Yoongi smacked you with the shirt he had just pulled out. You laughed, pushing his hand away before your eyes caught something that made your jaw drop. 

“WHAT IS THAT?!” you shrieked, looking at the shirt in Yoongi’s hand. “IS THAT BLOOD?!!”

.

.

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Tag list: @ireadfanficsonthisleavemealone, @sunshine-ruins  

(comment or dm me if you want to be added!)

[trapmoon-vibez-blog]

🙃 Disturbed 🙃

Warning: violence.

It's been 6 months since you have been stuck in this cell, you have been trying your very best to stay strong, hoping that J would come for you, but months has pass and there was no signs of J coming for your rescue.Each day you blamed yourself for getting caught, if only you had listened to J.

That day you decided to going out to buy groceries for you and J for a intimate dinner date at home, so you snuck out of the penthouse, thinking you could handle this little journey to the super market without J's annoying goons following behind you, and everything went smoothly until you was on your way back home and Batman warned you to come with him to Arkham asylum quietly.Of course you refused and tried to fight him which ultimately ended in you getting knocked out and brought to this asylum of the criminally insane.Ever since then this place was a hell hole.Batman brought you here to lure out J and to get you 'help' for you 'unhealthy' relationship with J but J wasn't abusive or cruel to you anymore, he knew you was a innocent girl so he didn't force you to be a criminal and you didn't force him to change, he just wanted your love and affection as much as you wanted his.So why couldn't people understand that? it's not illegal to fall in love.

You was currently laying on your bed in fetal position, when a guard unlocked your cell door "get up, it's time for your session with your doctor." he demanded.You backed away shaking your head 'no' frantically, he walked over to your cowering form "get your ass up!" he grabbed you, and you try to fight him but he over powered you and pulled you out of your cell, bringing you to that devil you call Hugo Strange.

You clawed at him and screeched "I don't wanna go! let me go!" you knew that doctor was going to torture you again just like the other times, but each time you came back to his office he had a new way of playing with your mind.As soon as you was getting closer towards his office, you felt yourself panic "p-please, I don't wanna go in there!" you begged but the guard ignored your cries and slammed you in the chair, strapping your neck, arms, and legs to the chair.You couldn't move and you knew that bastard had something planned for you today and it didn't seem good. "What is going on! get this off me!" you glared at the guard, who started to leave the room "hey get back over here you dip shit! what is this?!" you screamed but he ignored you, so you started to look at your surrounding nervously and notice this room was different.Wait, this room doesn't look familiar at all, what is this place? what exactly is this doctor planning to do to me? I m panicking, I can't take no more of those injections...it's makes my brain feel weird.I can't take anymore of that torture, he calls therapy.All he is doing is trying to break me.That bastard doesn't seem to care about my health, all he wants is a test subject.I've gotta be strong until J gets me, then the pain will go away and everything will be alright.

"Good morning Y/n, I hear you was giving the guard a bit of trouble, is everything okay?" you thoughts was interrupted when you heard Hugo, you shot him a hateful glare, trying to get out of the restraints and just wrap your hands around his throat, squeezing it until the fucker gasp his last breath."Cut the crap, you don't give a shit about me!" you yelled, watching cautiously as he pulled a chair up in front of you, "Y/n that's were your wrong I care about all my patients." he said in a calm tone, that seem to piss you off even more "I'm not your fucking patient, I don't deserve to be here, I'm not insane and this is illegal!" you yelled.He stared at you for awhile as if he was analyzing you"you are sick, but worry not we will cure you of  your sickness and you'll be on the road towards recovery."

"Why do you keep saying that?! I'm not sick!" he shook his head "of course you are, I couldn't imagine the pain you must have endure being with the Joker, seeing all those murders happening right in your very eyes, his explosive temper that always seems to be directed towards you, all those bruises you must've had, the mental torture you endure when he kidnapped you and your family...oh your poor family, he killed them in cold blood and made you watch as he tortured them. All just because of his obsession for you."

you looked down and bit your lip, drawing blood "b-but it's not like that anymore! he loves me, he would never hurt me on purpose, it was a mistake!"

Hugo looked at you with slight amusement "loves you? if he loved you, why haven't he came back to get you, in another 6 more months it will be a year since you first been admitted here." when you didn't reply he continued "shouldn't he have sacrificed himself for your happiness? instead he seems to be back with his original queen Harley Quinn, they was causing quiet a bit of trouble in Gotham.It's as if you was completely forgotten by your lover. You glared at him with tears blurring your vision "you are a fucking liar! he would never do that! never! never! never!" you spoke with venom in your tone but the doctor didn't seem phased, but why would he your strapped to a chair, completely vulnerable and at the will of his mercy. "You knew there is truth to what I say, why does he need someone as replaceable as you...he can create many other 'toys' who will obsess over him, he doesn't want you nor does he need you." you ignored him, but that didn't stop him from spilling poison out of his mouth "don't you owe it to your family to get better and leave the man that killed everyone you love for his own benefits." you shook your head 'no' frantically "he's changed...he's not the old J, the scary one."

"How do you know that Y/n, what if he is lying to you? what if that scary J come back again and hurt you, just like before?" you looked up at him with tears falling down your eyes "stop doing this to me...why are you tormenting me? do you like seeing me suffer? you sick fuck!" you croaked. "We are not here to torment you, were here to help." Hugo looked at his watch "as a matter of fact it's time for treatment, but this time we will try something different." you looked up at him shocked "something different? what are you talking about?!" he got up from his seat, walking towards the door "don't worry Y/n you're in good hands." he closed the door before you could question him further.You put your head down in despair, remembering all the horrors Hugo put you through and you was able to tough it out.But you couldn't lie and say you wasn't scared, actually every time you saw him you felt uneasy.This man did everything in his power to break you and one torture would be worse then the other and even illegal, he would cut down your meals to once every week, only supplying you with water every 3 days, keeping you in your cell daily.Just when you thought that was as worse as it could get he would prove you wrong and give even more hellish treatment, by inflicting varies amount of pain on you till you either give in or pass out, he would even force you to listen to J's numerous tapes of him killing his victims and he would even have the guards beat you up and threaten to murder you in your sleep just cause you was dating the Joker, they didn't care that there cruel words scared you nor did they care about the many sleepless nights you had.

"Why are you doing this to me Hugo?! WHY!" you screamed, feeling all your anguish resurface back, making your strong will dwindle.Then you heard a speaker click on "didn't you ever think the Joker is to blame for all your misfortunes, you wouldn't be here if he hadn't did those horrible things to you, you wouldn't have lost your family if it wasn't for him, you could've been living your normal happy life but then he came in and twisted your life for his on amusement, if you wanna blame someone blame the Joker, it's all his fault, he made you live in fear, he belittle you, abused you and took everything you had, he's a monster.Who took a innocent girl and preyed on your kindness, using it to his advantage.It's all the Joker's fault, he's a monster." and just as you was about to strongly disagree, an orderly came into the room quickly putting a strange contraption over your head, locking it closed.Everything was pitch black and your breaths came out in heavy pants, Mr.J please come soon...I don't know how long I can stay strong, I'm scared.

"You're probably wondering what is on your head, but don't worry this is the latest prototype I've made specifically for you, cause you have been resisting are standard treatment and I felt like we needed to give you something unorthodox." He spoke but there seemed to be a speaker inside the device that's on your head."What are you talking about? you're not suppose to do that?!" you yelled nervously, hearing  your voice echo throughout your head because of the enclosed device."Oh but I can if it's to help my patients, now let us continue your therapy." you remained silent, worrying about what this man was planning.

"Now Y/n I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I want your honest reply." you didn't respond so he took your silence as a 'yes'.

"Did the Joker ever kidnap you and your family?"

"Yes."you replied through gritted teeth "you already know that, so why are you asking me?" he ignored you and continued his questions.

"Did you resist him and was that the reason he murdered your family?"

"Y-yes."

"Did he abuse you for weeks?"

"....Yes." you didn't like his questions at all, they made you uncomfortable and brought back memories you had suppressed.

"Did he ever use electroshock therapy on you?"

"No, shut up with these stupid questions!"

"Were you happy before the Joker came into your life?"

"Your the doctor, why don't you tell me!" you said with slight agitation.

"I can tell you are displeased by my questions, so I will ask you the two most important questions and if you get it right then you will be done." you didn't replied so he continued.

"Is the Joker a monster?"

"He's not a fucking monster! he's different now!" you screamed.

"Wrong answer Y/n." your anger diminishes and it's replaced with worry "what are you-" and before you could respond electricity bolted from the side of the contraption zapping the sides of your temple, it didn't hurt as much but it did sting a lot.

"Is it the Joker's fault you're suffering?"

"N-no!" you yelled through the pain, trying to resist giving up.Then he increased the volts and you started to feel the electricity go through out your whole body, the pain was so excruciating.

"Wrong answer, is the Joker a monster?"

You let out a shaky breath "he's not, I love him." and before you could catch a break he doubles the volts for what felt like hours were only mere seconds.He slowly brought it back down to 0.

"Again, is it the Joker's fault you are suffering?"

My brain feels like it's being boiled, my body is numb and everything hurts so much.How much longer can my body go through this and my mind feels so loopy.

"Y/n, answer my question, is it the Joker's fault you are suffering?"

You snapped out of your dazed thought "no."

~

After hours of the constant torturous electroshock therapy, the doctor advanced the 'treatment' to now reciting your life as if it was a story from a grim fairy tale and he would finish it with those two same last questions and after a while you started to lose yourself to insanity.You started to think maybe the doctor was right, the joker is a scary man and he was going to hurt you just like before.Your memories were very hazy but Hugo told you everything about the Joker, that he would never changed, he will continue to murder the innocent and being with him will only increase your sickness and make you suffer.

"Is the Joker a monster?" he questioned.

"Y-yes." you stuttered as drool started to fall down your chin, you could barely hold unto your consciousness.

"Did the Joker cause all of your suffering?"

"Yes, he took me away from my normal life and made me sick." it was hard to complete a full sentence, when your brain felt scattered.

"Do you still love the Joker?"

"He's scary, he'll hurt me again."

"But do you still love him?"

"N-no."

"Good job Y/n I commend you for taking a big step in your treatment, you are done for today." as soon as he said that two guards came in and took the machine off your head and unstrapped you from the restraints, they pulled your limp body of the chair and started to drag your barely unconscious body out of the room.

"She looks fucked up." the first guard replied while looking at you, everything looked so blurry and there voices sounded so distant.

"I gotta give it to Dr.Strange he works miracles, this bitch used to be so feisty.Look at her now." the second guard chuckled.  

"I wouldn't call this a miracle." the first guard said.

"It's a miracle if it makes are jobs easier." the second guard laughed.

"You got that right Griggs!" the first guard joined the fit of laughter.

Finally they made it towards your cell and they placed you on your bed.

Griggs smirked at the first guard "she's not that bad looking now that she lost the attitude."

The first guard laughed "Kept Griggs jr in your pants, before you get fired."

"Yeah I will," Griggs replied.

The first guard patted Griggs shoulder and left the cell, as Griggs followed behind and locked you in you cell.

As soon as they left you drifted off to sleep, no longer the same old Y/n you used to be.

Author's note

Hey~ I decided to make another part to disturbed because I didn't wanna make it too long, the next ch may have the Joker's POV not sure yet, but I will be playing around with this story, I actually have three versions of this same concept. I may post those two on a later date if I remember :P I was originally gonna to do a funny story that came to mind but I cut it off short because I wanted to practice my angsty writing, I have been putting Disturbed mini series off for quiet a bit (cause once a story comes to mind I drop the original one I thought of and end up doing another).I've made a Gotham imagines that I really should update, but me being a neglectful author...I'm didn't update yet.

P.s. my bad if there is grammar mistakes I didn't really proof read, it's 2:00 am and I'm dead tired.

for more https://www.wattpad.com/story/108668229-joker-imagines-%F0%9F%92%9A

[fashiontrendin-blog]

The Cult of Supreme: Everything I Learned From the Kids in Line

https://fashion-trendin.com/the-cult-of-supreme-everything-i-learned-from-the-kids-in-line/

The Cult of Supreme: Everything I Learned From the Kids in Line

W

hy do people love Supreme so much? I’m not asking because I’m against the hype — I’m generally pro-hype when it comes to streetwear — I’m more so asking in amazement. Even if you’re not a fan of the brand, its success is arguably impossible to miss. Take its recent New York Post cover takeover as evidence; newsstands sold out of copies within hours, defying the notion that print is dead.

In my eyes, defiance, or perhaps rebellion, is so much of what Supreme is about. According to its website, the brand opened its doors in 1994 as a hub for skaters, but eventually grew to cater to other counterculture movements, like “punks,” “hip-hop heads,” and downtown kids.

Supreme’s business strategy reflects its unorthodox roots. The brand’s decision to release product in highly controlled limited releases (a.k.a. “drops”) strays far from the traditional retail approach. And while most brands seek to maximize their target audiences to in turn maximize profit, Supreme doesn’t seem too worried about losing customers along the way. In fact, I’ll take this moment to share that I am currently blocked by Supreme on Instagram. Sadly there’s no juicy explanation; I can’t for the life of me recall what provoked this. Nevertheless, since I’m not an internet troll or a spewer of hate speech, this act proves my point: Supreme doesn’t give a fuck about rules or the status quo. And to be honest, it’s working: The only two Supreme pieces I own were purchased after I was blocked.

“At the core of Supreme’s power to drive demand for its products is its ability to cultivate a community,” Business of Fashion wrote of the Supreme phenomenon. “It’s the critical ingredient that turns drops into rituals, and T-shirts into trophies.”

I’m increasingly intrigued by Supreme, and have no doubt I share this sentiment with the customers who line up down the block every week in the hope of buying something from one of its highly anticipated drops, in which certain pieces sell out in minutes. Through denying people access and defying traditional rules of retail, Supreme has created a loyal customer base that is hooked on the chase.

To gain a better understanding of how Supreme has established such unfailing prominence, I decided to speak to its biggest fans right at their mecca: the Supreme Soho store, minutes before the next drop. Continue below for the five most striking things I learned from those keeping the hype alive.

1. Supreme Isn’t Shy About Playing Hard to Get

“Supreme has always been a thing that you have to know. They don’t spend any money on advertising, they don’t do photoshoots and exposés — maybe every once in a while in a skate magazine or something raunchy like that — but they don’t really publicize the brand at all. You kinda have to know the brand to know what’s going on. The fact that it isn’t so publicized is what [brings] a lot of people here. Even though you have to wait in these stupid long lines, it was almost like a privilege to do so because you know people didn’t know about it and people aren’t able to do it. Even though more and more people know about Supreme, that ‘people aren’t able to do it’ aspect is very heavy. There’s still such a demand because it’s still such a privilege to go in there and shop. They’ve turned it into a real thing; it’s an honor to get that spot, it’s coveted just to be able to go in there and buy the items.” – Andre, @solestreetsneakerco, 35

“Shopping wise it’s okay, but sometimes the workers inside assume you’re a reseller and sometimes don’t give customers stuff.” – Tony, 26

2. Further, Customer Service Seems Not to Be of Much Concern

“You gotta figure 80% of the line is tourists and this a thing. People come on vacation and one of the things on their checklist is ‘visit the Supreme store.’ The coveted item of Supreme is a box logo tee. A plain T-shirt with the logo on it; it’s the simplest thing and nobody understands why it goes for so much money. [Ed note: Supreme box logo T-shirts are not sold on the Supreme site; if you want to purchase from a reseller it will put you back anywhere between $650 and $2000.] It’s just because it’s that core item. These tourists don’t know much, so 800 people walk through that door on a regular day and 450 of them ask for a box logo T-shirt, which is never there. So I know [the employees] get frustrated working there and having to deal with it all the time, so they’re a little brash. That is what Supreme is. I wouldn’t want to walk in there and have employees that are like ‘Hey, welcome to Supreme! How may I help you?’ That’s not what this place is, that’s not what this place has ever been. The employees sorta act the way they act.” – Andre, @solestreetsneakerco, 35

“I don’t really like going into the store, they’re kind of rude to you. When I was younger, I was very naive and scared, but you get used to it. They’re not nice to most customers that go there, but they recognize that almost every single person goes there multiple times a week and [the employees] realize they’re just buying the same thing to sell. So, it’s understandable.” – Edison, 19

“They’re not nice, but they’re really cool. I admire them. They have personality. No other store can have an employee like this; if employee had this attitude at other stores they’d get fired. They’re dope, they’re special.” – Lox, @iamyourshoes, 21

3. Some Customers Have Turned Shopping at Supreme Into a Business

“It’s a business. I mean, I am a fan as well, that’s what started the whole thing, but it’s primarily a business at this point for me. I was always interested in sneakers, one of my first jobs was at FootAction. I wanted to be a manager, I caught the bug, it stuck. The first time I discovered Supreme was when they released a [Nike] Dunk Low, I think it was 2010-ish, maybe 2009. It was only available at Supreme and I wanted it of course because I was interested in the sneaker aspect of it. So that was my first time coming down here and finding out where the place was. Once I discovered the sneaker and I went in the store and saw everything, I started doing more research. At the same time, my son is kind of into skateboarding and knew about the brand and he thought it was cool that I had something Supreme. I started coming down here a bit more often and following more of the stuff they were releasing. At first it was just for me, but then it started growing. I was always able to sell sneakers casually; buy two pairs or three pairs to help pay for my pair of it. That started growing coinciding with me finding out about Supreme.

Then Complex did a documentary that I was involved with a couple years ago and that blew me up… When it aired, [Supreme was] banning me [from] buying [anything but] size XLs. There were times when I’d go in there and be like ‘Can I get that black t-shirt?’ they’d be like ‘Nah it’s sold out,’ then three guys behind me got the black T-shirt in their hand. I had to eat shit for a while to get back in good graces. But that [documentary] took me from 5,000 followers to 50,000 followers. It legitimized me in the eyes of a lot of buyers, it did more good than bad in the long run. – Andre @solestreetsneakerco, 35

“Nothing, I just like the money.” [Ed note: In response to “why do you like Supreme?”] – Jalen, 18

“I would honestly say [I own] upwards of 400 pieces. It’s like moving inventory. For a while in high school I was working for Grailed (I was a moderator), that was my thing, collecting old Supreme, early 2000s/90s Supreme. But that’s a big part of it, keeping some stuff, selling some stuff — I have some stuff in my house that hopefully in a couple of years will be worth something.” – Edison, 19

“When I was in high school, I used to wear skate shoes like Nike SBs, and I wanted to wear Supreme and the SBs together because that was the trend, so that’s how I got started. What I don’t like, I’ll sell; if I like stuff, I’ll keep it myself. Like, see this bag? [Points at camo Supreme duffle bag.] It’s 2005, no one has it. This is a very rare bag, but if I wanna resell it’ll probably go for $500. But I like keeping stuff for myself. “ – Tony, 26

“We usually resell so that we can get more stuff. I like to buy the bags, the tees, the sweatpants, and the decks also.” – Ericson, 16

4. …While Others Truly Cherish the Sentimentality

“There’s kids like [Jalen] now who come and buy everything, so I gotta go and figure out how to get it. I go in and just buy stuff for myself. The brand has always been cool, even in 2006, this shit was always known as the dope brand.” – Jimmy, 28

“I like the culture around it… that you have to wake up early to try to get everything, how many people you can meet on the line — it’s really cool. It’s in New York and most times in New York you don’t get a collection of people standing around waiting for one thing because everybody’s so busy.” – Gregory, 17

5. Regardless, Many Customers Aren’t Ashamed to Admit That They’re In It for the Hype

“I thought it was a cool brand — I thought cool people had the brand. I was pretty into Odd Future at the time too; Tyler, the Creator is very cool and he wears Supreme. Then a lot of kids at my middle school and high school wore it too, so it kinda pushed me further into wearing it.” – Edison, 19

“I started shopping at Supreme three and a half years ago. I got into it from my boy. He told me ‘Yo, just stop by, come with us to Supreme.’ We used to camp out from like Monday to Thursday.” – Zane, 25

“Just the limited quantity and how you have to line up and everything.” [In response to “Why do you like Supreme?”] – Max, 14

“Through the vibe.” [In response to “How did you discover Supreme?”]  – Miguel, 13

“This is the second time I went, the first time was two days ago — but I obviously know what it is. Everyone is hyping it up.” – Alexis, 15

“I just find it super trendy and I love the idea of items you can purchase online that are hella limited and once they’re gone they’re gone. It’s really an indescribable feeling, like you’re one of the few that were able to get this.” – Zach, 17

Photos by Louisiana Mei Gelpi.