#the one time he tried to not have it and the utter chaos it resulted in and he looks so truly haunted no one questions it again

[delta-piscium]

Steve makes one of those teacher tiktok accounts where he mostly talks about teaching and tips for learning and stuff, he also posts videos like

“You wonder what it’s like to be a teacher? I’m spending my evening doing seating arrangements, the trick is to not let people who have any kind of tension, are close friends, have a crush, lose concentration easily, sit close to each other… so basically I’m playing sudoko but I only have 1, 2s, and 3s… and also the numbers change daily..” you can see him looking down at something wrinkling his eyebrows and then nodding to himself and he’s like “I think I got it though”

the next day he duets it and it’s just him looking tired and in the background you can hear incoherent shouting, the caption just says ‘there’s apparently been a breakup’

for some reason there’s a comment by Eddie Munson, famous rockstar, that’s like “you should let it play out, drama is what high school is about” and Steve has just replied “this is why you repeated senior year twice” not acknowledging at all that this famous Grammy winner commented and everyone are just like ??? ?? what are you doing here ??? and why is this high school teacher roasting u ???

[pixiespax]

Invisible Smoke - C.S.

athr's note: idk if i hate or love this BUT M BACK!!!

warnings!! ANGST NO COMFORT. Mean!Chris (selfish, no emoional responsability, yells at the reader and insults them). Yelling, Swearing, Fighting, Being uncomfortable, idk if i missed anything.

summary! Y/N struggles to adjust to the new dynamic in her relationship with chris as his fame startes to rise, and their time together becomes slimmer. what happens when Y/N stands up for herself?

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It had been a few months since that fateful night at the noisy party, the night when fate had brought us together. I had been wearing my favorite pair of heels which, as luck would have it, had broken just as I was walking towards the bar. It was then that I spotted Chris, looking at me with an amused smile playing on his lips, and I mustered up the courage to ask him for help.

To my surprise, he not only fixed my heel but also struck up a conversation with me. His blue eyes stood out against his pale skin, which was shining in different colors from the lights around us. We had exchanged numbers amidst the chaos of the party, and that was the beginning of our story.

Fast forward to the present, and I found myself sitting at the dining table, surrounded by my new family. Chris was sitting to my right, but it felt like he was miles away from me. Matt was on my left, and Nick was in front of me, while MaryLou and Jimmy occupied the two ends of the table. I couldn't help but feel like something was off.

Chris seemed distant, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that he didn't have any time for me anymore. I had been struggling to adjust to this new dynamic in our relationship as his fame started to rise and our time together became slimmer, and it was taking a toll on me. As the night went on, I found myself lost in thought, unable to fully enjoy the company of my loved ones.

His words reverberated in my head, and I felt my heart sink as I realized the severity of the situation. We had just arrived back at my apartment, and he was pacing around the kitchen while I sat on the sofa, my hands covering my head as tears streamed down my face. He watched me cry, his face devoid of any emotion as he spoke in a cold, harsh tone.

"Can't you just be normal?" he asked, frustration evident in his voice. "I'm asking you for one basic thing, and it's not that hard." He walked up to me, towering over me as his hands swung around in anger. "I didn't mean to, okay?" I tried to explain, my voice shaking with fear. "I just wasn't feeling good, and I didn't know how to express it." His face contorted with rage, and he let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, Y/N… you're so selfish, you know that?" he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You never think about anyone else but yourself." As he looked down at his feet, I felt a wave of despair wash over me.

The person I loved most in the world was standing in front of me, but he seemed like a stranger. The hurt and anger in his eyes were too much for me to bear, and I knew that something had changed between us forever.

I stood up, feeling my anger taking over me while tears started to pour out of my eyes. "Well maybe if you would've asked me what was wrong none of this could've happened," I muttered, my voice trembling with emotion. Four long months of taking his constant criticism without uttering a single complaint had finally taken their toll on me. "And I'm selfish?!" I exclaimed, my voice rising with each word. "You're unbelievable, Chris," I said, my voice choking on my tears. I knew that lashing out at him would only result in more pain, but I couldn't back down now.

I stood there, waiting for Chris to respond. But instead of apologizing, he just stared at me, his eyes flashing with anger. "What do you want from me?" he said, his voice cold. "I can't be everything to you. You're always so needy, always wanting more. It's never enough, is it?"

I felt a surge of anger and frustration rise within me. "That's not true," I said, my voice trembling. "All I want is for you to listen to me, to care about me. Is that too much to ask?"

Chris sneered at me. "You're impossible," he said. "I can't deal with you anymore. I'm done."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, alone and broken. I watched him go, feeling a sense of despair wash over me. I knew that we would never be able to make it work, that our relationship was doomed to fail.

But even as I thought that a small part of me still held onto hope, still believed that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to make things right. But deep down, I knew that it was just wishful thinking, that the reality was far bleaker than I wanted to admit.

[nina-ya]

Patching up Luffys Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Luffy x GN!Reader CW: Burn mentions. WC: 1098 You are peacefully seated on the deck of the Sunny, engrossed in a book, with Robin keeping you quiet company while she reads her own book. The weather is blissful, and the ocean stretches out as far as the eye could see. It is one of those serene days at sea where nothing threatens your tranquility. As you start to doze off, the gentle sway of the ship lulling you to sleep, your peaceful slumber is abruptly shattered by a deafening WHAM! The noise catapulted you back into the realm of consciousness, disoriented and perplexed. Your drowsy eyes darted around, seeking the source of the disturbance, you hear Sanji’s furious voice coming from the kitchen. Infuriated shouts, accompanied by a flurry of french obscenities, fills the air. Your curiosity leads you to the chaotic scene unfolding in the kitchen. As you step into the kitchen, a truly astonishing sight greets you. Food was scattered across every inch of the kitchen, floor to ceiling. Sanji was in a state of outrage, his culinary masterpiece reduced to an utter mess. His yelling is directed at no other than Luffy. You quickly connect the dots and realize that Luffy is the culprit behind the ruckus. The idiot tried to use his abilities to grab some food from the other side of the kitchen and had made a severe miscalculation. As a result, his hands are now decorated with painful burns.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at the spectacle in front of you. It was clear that you need to intervene to prevent further chaos. Without hesitation you push your way through to Luffy. Luffy was booth whining in pain and complaining about hunger, and you practically have to drag him to the infirmary. The journey to the infirmary is not an easy one, but you manage to get him into the infirmary and coax him to sit still for a moment.

“Luffy, what exactly happened in there?” you aak, genuine curiosity in your voice.

HIs embarrassment is evident as he replies, “I just really wanted to taste what Sanji was cooking, and he wouldn’t let me! So, I took matters into my own hands and well… yeah…” With a sigh, you inspect his injured hands, the pain evident as he whimpers out in pain. “Ah, Luffy, you really are something else, aren’t you?” you say, shaking your head with a smile. “It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble, always diving headfirst into things without a second thought.” “Of course I think! Just like I did now! Sanji said no, so i thought, ‘Hey, I’ll just do it myself!’” He flashes you a grin. An amused smile graces your lips as you carefully apply some cream to soothe his burns. “Well, for now, you can think about sitting still and letting me wrap up your hands. That way, you can go back and try again, but maybe don’t miss this time, alright?” Luffy bursts into laughter. “I won’t miss next time, and you know what? I’ll get enough to share with you too!” You blink in mild disbelief at the unexpected offer. “Did you somehow hit your head too? I know you did not just offer me some of your food.”

With a shake of his head, Luffy playfully emphasized, “Nope, everything is all fine with the noggin,” he moves to knock himself in the head with emphasis, but you intervene, preventing him from causing more harm to himself.

“I’ll believe you once Chopper checks you out,” you respond with a teasing grin.

You turn your focus to bandaging his hands, and you gently take one of them in your own. As you wrap up his hand, you can’t help but notice the battle-worn scars that adorned his hands, like mementos of his countless adventures. “Why are you just staring at my hand?” Luffy asks suddenly, his grin from earlier still in place.

You finish up the first hand and start to wrap the other when you respond. “I was just looking…” you pause your bandaging to point out a particular mark on his hand. “Hey, do you remember how you got this scar?”

Luffys’ gaze follows your finger, and a wide, nostalgic grin spreads across his face. “Yeah! We were sparring and you were showing me this cool trick with a sword and you managed to land a hit right there. I say we should spar again.” His stomach rumbles, and he laughs. “After I get some food of course!”

You smile at the memory that the scar brings as you continue to wrap up Luffys’ hand. Out of the blue, his voice breaks the silence as his attention shifts to your hands. “Your hands are small,” his voice is soft and pensive. His gaze is locked on your hands and he seems to be captivated by it, a look of curiosity in his eyes. You finish wrapping his hand, and he extends his hand to touch yours. “See? Small…” he murmurs, his fingers slowly interlocking with yours, an infectious laugh escapes his lips as his eyes meet yours.

A smile graces your lips as well. “Yeah, they’re pretty small I guess.” A brief silence falls between the two of you as your intertwined hands feel each other's warmth. You decide to break the quiet moment with a cough and comment, “So, uh, it looks like you’re good to-”

Before you can complete your sentence, Luffy springs up from his seat and starts sprinting toward the kitchen, your hand held securely in his grip. He shows no intention of letting go soon. You can’t even get another word in before he declares, “Perfect! I’m gonna go get my food, and you’re coming with me, and I’ll be sure to get enough to share with you!”

Share? This is the second time he has mentioned sharing; does he mean it? His unrelenting grip around your hand only adds to your questions. Why is he not letting go? Why does he insist on holding my hand like this?

In the midst of being dragged to the kitchen, hand in hand with Luffy, you can’t help but feel a warmth spreading through you. These simple actions speak more than any words can say. You can’t deny your growing affection for the Captain through his story of unspoken feelings. As you venture towards the kitchen, you start to realize that this is just one page of the storyline you and Luffy share. Perhaps this is the beginning of a whole new chapter, and you are absolutely elated to see where this leads to.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hiya :D

i love ur headcannons they always make me laugh reading them!

do u think u could do some on what subjects u think the mercs would teach if they were teachers?

What Subjects Would The TF2 Mercs Teach?

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Awe, thank you, Anon, that's so sweet 💖 I can definitely write this, it seems like a lot of fun! UH going to just assume that these guys are teaching at a college, so they get specialized fields to teach!

This is probably going to be very similar to "What Jobs Would The TF2 Mercs Have If They Weren't Mercenaries" post, so I'll probably keep this shorter so I don't end up repeating myself, uh I also added how the classes would like them as a teacher!

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Demo would teach chemistry, trying very hard not to dabble with anything too illegal in his classroom. He loves the way science almost works like magic when it comes to chemistry. Loves the bearly visible bridge between a perfect result and utter chaos. His students are both deeply terrified and greatly inspired by Demo. He's a genius when it comes to science, and it shows through the times he's deeply concentrated while teaching. May or may not have "accidentally" shown the class how to make explosives. Oops.

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Engie is a fan of biomedical engineering regardless of if it's his job or just something he'd be asked to teach to people who were curious about it. He has such a passion for the mix of two things he loves, helping people and making things. He will go on for hours, showing examples of how important biomedical engineering is, how impactful even one person in the field can be. His students would love the passion he speaks on the subject with and how willing he is to make sure everyone in his class understands the material.

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Heavy would teach Russian literature after being inspired by his teachers. The passion they showed in their teachings and how willing they were to prioritize helping students evoked feelings in him that he never known. He does everything for his students, making sure that everyone is supported. He tries his hardest to give his all to make these students feel the same passion he has for it. His students love him, and his class is one of the most popular, has made large impacts on every student that's came into his class.

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Medic teaches, shock of all shocks, medical classes! I know, I know, but what can I say? He lives for the medical field. Keeps his class ethical enough, stating multiple times that as doctors, their job is to heal and save lives. However, some of his students who share the same, uh, curious shine in their eyes are more than welcome to attend a class that dips into the unethical side of medical practices. He's a good teacher, and his students are fond of him for his unsettling aura and passion.

(Can you tell I know jack all about medicine and how it's taught lmao)

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Scout is a teacher in sports journalism, and his class both loves and loathes him as a teacher. He loves sports, so writing about them is super easy! He has a lot of fun teaching other people the best way to describe things and how to put their feelings on the page, but he's also horrendous at spelling and writing in general. His class understands his struggles but gets rather annoyed when Scout pulls up an article he wrote and can't understand any of it. He's trying his best, and he makes a half decent teacher.

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Sniper is a photography teacher, and honestly? His class isn't for everyone. In Snipers mind through every picture he takes he's expressing a deep feeling or trying to invoke an emotion in the viewer, which he succeeds in most of the time, but it's hard for other people to replicate that when you, don't. Talk. To. Them. Some people just pick up photography and understand exactly how to do what Sniper expects without guidance, others can't understand at all. Basically, not a teacher, teacher.

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Spy is teaching political science, hoping he can somehow subtly influence a few students into using the knowledge he provided to find a profession in espionage. He's definitely a teacher who would make you nervous, kind of a mean teacher, but he never let's a student fall behind. Subtly offering help or an extension to make sure his students succeed. Claiming he doesn't do it out of love for his students, just so he isn't known for having any failures in his class.

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Soldier is the worlds best american history teacher, hands down. You want to talk about passion? He loves American history and will go on the longest rants and makes all of them entertaining. His class is never dull or boring. He's another prime example of a teacher who will do anything for his students and make sure they understand everything going on. No man left behind and all that. His students love him :)

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Pyro is a teacher of fire science (I didn't even know that was a thing, but apparently it is, who knew?) Pyro, being obsessed with lighting fires, knows quite a bit about all types of fire is more than happy to share their knowledge about flames. While their students can barely understand them, they don't call Pyro out on it as their passion for the subject transcends words. Pyro's class is less of a class than a period of entertainment, but somehow everyone comes away from the class knowing everything they needed, and even somethings they didn't.

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Short and sweet little headcanons, how fun! Sorry if it's actually too short! Thank you again for the ask anon, super fun to write :)

I'm just now realizing that there's a chance that this won't make sense because I'm a little tired while writing this, so I hope it turned out well. Sorry if it didn't, Anon 😭

[mirikitakato]

[TRANSLATION] OWEN 4TH ANNIVERSARY SSR CARD STORY “TOGETHER IN A WORLD ADRIFT” AND CARD EPISODE “OWEN AND THE DOOR OF DAYS BYGONE…”

Owen, I feel like you can't stop mentioning Cain in everything you say lol I love it though

Characters: Owen, Akira (mentioning Cain)

Episode 1: A Sweet and Salty Moment.

Owen: Ha. It's been quite a while since I last had such a dull mission...

Owen: It's not merely a bit dull; it's being exaggerated to an extreme extent. You can just ignore it, you know?

The mission assigned to the Northern wizards that day was a result of the Great Calamity's influence, leading to a house cat turning aggressive.

Akira: It was utter chaos.

Owen helped a bunch by talking to the cat and calming it down.

Owen: Those guys are useless, I have no choice but to talk to it.

Owen: Well...the twins tried their best to act like super cute kids, but they were thoroughly disliked, Mithra and Bradley even got threatened by the cat. That was genuinely amusing and fun to watch.

Akira: Ahaha...Once the mission was over, everyone immediately disbanded.

Akira: I wished we could have gone to the shop together. You all came all the way here, but I couldn't offer anything as an apology. I'm truly sorry.

Owen: Doesn't matter. Besides, you don't get rewarded for being the first to run away.

Owen: Instead of that, don't you think you owe me for this mission? Take me to that store quickly.

Akira: Of course! Let me treat you as a token of appreciation.

Akira: That café is recommended by Cain. The decor is very stylish, and the atmosphere is great.

Owen: Heh...Is there a sweet treat that looks like someone's brain has melted and blended into a gooey, sugary snack?

Akira: Pr-probably...? The menu of that shop is very rich, and their most famous item is the baked sea salt cake.

Owen: Salt…? Cake with salt?

Akira: Yes! The salty-sweet combination is addictive.

Akira: You should give it a try...It should be nearby, I'll lead the way.

Owen: Hey... we've been walking for quite a while. Are we there yet?

Akira: Huh? That's odd...

Ten more minutes passed as we continued our search, but the desired café with its blue roof and round sign remained elusive.

Akira: With its blue roof and round sign, it should be easily recognizable...

Owen: ....

Episode 2: A Sweet and Salty Moment.

Akira: Owen, sorry for making you wander around like this. Are you tired...?

Owen: ...Not really.

I thought he'd be in a bad mood since I got him lost, but surprisingly, he wasn't unhappy, which confused me.

Owen: But, I'm thirsty. So, just continue looking for that store alone. Call me if you find it.

Akira: Eh? Ah, Owen!

Owen: Blue roof and round sign…

Owen: (I guess it's this one…)

Owen: ....

Owen: (I can see them clearly from the window seat. That person is still searching for this store in a daze.)

Owen: Amusing. Sir Sage doesn't have a clue that a camouflage spell has been cast on them, and they're still wandering around the same place over and over...

Owen: Haha... Let's just sit back and enjoy the spectacle for a bit.

Owen: (Although they occasionally gets angry, that person is surprisingly tough and won’t break easily. A very good toy indeed.)

Owen: ...Now you mention it, they said the sea salt cake in this store was delicious.

Owen: (Salty cake, but I doubt it's yummy...)

Owen:....

Owen: Oh well, just one bite.

Akira: This path isn't right either...ugh, so confusing.

I tilted my head in confusion and looked at the map in my hand. Still couldn't find the destination, I sighed countless times.

Akira: (It feels like I have been wandering in the same place since the beginning. I don’t even know where Owen went...)

While thinking this, I looked around again and turned the corner of a certain building, then...

Akira: Ah.........I found it!

A store with a blue roof and a round sign. The exquisite and lovely decoration is exactly the same as when I visited before.

Akira: Owen, Owen. I found the shop!

Akira: (He said to call him if I find it. Guess he didn’t go far...)

Akira: Ah...

Seated by the window in the café, Owen rested his chin on his hands, casting a look as if he was watching a show.

A sense of déjà vu washed over me; it felt like I had witnessed this scene before.

Episode 3: A Sweet and Salty Moment.

Akira: Owen!

Except for Owen, who was sitting alone by the window, there were no other customers in the shop. He slowly blinked his different-colored pupils, before casually directing his gaze toward me.

Akira: Great, you got here first. I have no idea why I've been lost for so long...

Owen: I know. I have been watching.

Akira: Eh? Have you been watching me? Since when…?

Owen: Right from the beginning, I used a camouflage spell on you to prevent you from seeing the shop and made you roam in circles, all while observing your bewildered expression.

Akira: So that's why!? When did you cast that kind of magic...?

Owen: Who knows. Thanks to this, I can see your embarrassed and stupid look.

I sighed, wiped sweat off my forehead, and saw Owen happily lift the corners of his mouth. His eyes, concealing their true meaning, formed a curve. It brought back the familiar sensation from when our eyes met outside the store.

Akira: (Speaking of which, when I first met Owen, I was searching for him too... I glanced up, and there he was, staring at me in the same way.)

Akira: (Gazing into those different-colored eyes that seemingly smiling, left a profound impression...)

Remembering the purple sunset on the castle balcony and the enchantingly eerie purple clouds from our initial conversation, I suddenly felt nostalgic.

Akira: (Reminiscing about our first encounter and now sharing afternoon tea like this...it makes me so happy...)

Owen: What's wrong with you? Why are you still laughing when I've obviously made you walk around in vain?

Akira: Ah, no! It's nothing...Oh, Owen. Is this the salty cake?

There sat a small round cake in front of Owen, with some of its white cream already devoured.

Akira: You ordered it! How do you like it? In my world, this kind of dessert is quite popular.

Owen: Yeah. A salty cake, I don't know how to describe it...

Lifting up his chin, Owen thrust the fork into the cake in one swift motion. He then slowly brought the forked piece to his mouth.

Owen: ...But it's not bad.

Licking the cream from the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue, Owen tilted his head slightly and shook his fork.

Akira: (Although there are times he is inconsistent and difficult to get along with, but I can feel that we are getting closer little by little.)

Akira: (It would be great if I could share more and more things with Owen like this.)

Owen: Huh?

Owen slowly raised his eyelids. Then, with a somewhat mocking look, he gently pointed the tip of the fork at me.

Owen: You can try it. But if it doesn't suit your taste, don't blame me.

This movement, along with the slightly narrowed eyes behind the brim of the hat, seemed a bit different from when we first met.

Card Episode: Owen And The Door Of Days Bygone...

Akira: I heard that on the shores of Borda Isle, there is a door that allows you to see the past.

Akira: Speaking of the past, when I first came to this world, I still had a lot of uneasiness in my heart. Once I recall a certain memory, I feel at ease.

Owen: A certain memory?

Akira: Yes. The memory of a trusted adult reading a book to me as a child.

Owen: Hmm, sounds dreadfully boring.

Akira: B-boring...

Owen: It suits you, though.

Akira: How do you usually comfort yourself when feeling lonely?

Owen: Think of you.

Akira: Eh...

Owen: I think of...

Owen: Your scream as a gigantic dog almost gnawed you to bits and your teary face when abandoned all alone...

Akira: Ple-please stop talking.

Owen: Don't like it?

Akira: I don't. If you suddenly decide to act on those thoughts, I'd be in deep trouble.

Owen: Exactly the kind of thing I'd do.

Akira: Is there nothing else? Ways to comfort loneliness…

Owen: Who knows. I've never known loneliness or anything of the sort.

Owen: If you don't want to feel lonely, why not just be with others?

Akira: Do you mean making friends?

Owen: Of course not. I mean toying with people for my amusement.

Owen: Because there are plenty of humans and weak wizards that can be treated like playthings.

Owen: Threaten them, watch them squirm in terror, and you won't be bored anymore.

Akira: That's too extreme...Have you really done that to someone?

Owen: Of course I have.

Akira: Who...

Owen: The owner of this eyeball.

Akira: Ah...

Akira: …But, you two are friends now, right?

Owen: As if!

Akira: But if you can begrudgingly become friends despite all this...

Owen: I said no. We won't be friends. Are you stupid?

Owen: I've always done things that Sir Knight hates. Same goes for you.

Akira: Eh...?

Owen: I only do nasty things to you. I won't do anything good in the future either.

Owen: Whether I'm alone or you're alone, what you said just now was incredibly stupid.

Owen: Can't believe you said that having someone read a book to you can alleviate your loneliness.

Akira: Ah…No. I mean it's a memory that can comfort…

Owen: Same difference.

Owen: Even without an adult reading to you, you'd still find comfort in an imaginary character within a book, right?

Akira: Eh?

Owen: ...Incredibly boring.

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: She Knows (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

She Knows

series summary:  

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

A series of events led you to this exact moment where you and Joker's worst nightmare finally came true. She knew and you had no doubt she would tell the world.

author’s note:

WARNING CLIFFHANGER AHEAD (again)

Wow! Funny how I’m late but updating on a Wednesday of all days... anyhoo hope everyone had a great Fourth of July if you’re state side. Be petty and listen to She Knows by J. Cole. I had way too much fun adding in memes and pop culture references into this chapter! If you don’t understand one, do message me! I’d be more than happy to explain!

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster  @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!    

Last Chapter  |  Next Chapter 

A series of events led you to this exact moment.

You were in your apartment being accused of everything to Metropolis and back. The accuser happened to be your friend and she wasn't holding anything back.

"How long have you two been together? Y'all were on some secret bull___t that night at the club, I should've known then! Of all people why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"

The questions kept coming with no end in sight.

Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics. Your audience wasn't too far behind. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Neo braved the fray and tried to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead.

"I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"

"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.

"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"

You glanced at the group of people gathered around your dinner table and sighed. This was beyond embarrassing but unfortunately it was happening all because Dick couldn't keep his mouth shut.

The culprit sat watching the drama unfold with a smug grin on his face. Times like this you hated him so much..

This was all his fault.

He backed you into a corner that you couldn't run from. You were tired of hiding and lying to everyone but that wasn't the point. It wasn't Dick's business to tell and now you were in the hot seat because he decided to meddle. They deserved to know the truth.. but how would you begin to clear up the air and set the facts straight?

"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.."

The sad thing is; you never got the chance to.

Four days ago...

You looked up at Dick when he leaned his forearms on the counter. "So, Y/n? When do I get to meet Prince Charming?"

You were speechless. All you could do was blink as your brain did a full Windows shutdown. You felt like throwing up, curling up into a ball, and screaming out into the ether all at once.

In no way, shape, or form, was this happening. You shook your head and glanced down at the gossip magazine still in your hands. Did Joker know about all this? Was this the mysterious contents of the manila folder you found back at the beach house?

No, you were confident that J would've told you if he knew beforehand.

This was bad news for both you and his career. You were a popular author nationwide with a cult following on social media. You were set to frontline GothCon in a few months and promo ads and interviews about your most recent book were still circulating within the media. Despite all of the buzz, it had been a while since you were followed by paparazzi. You weren't the most exciting person, so you weren't entirely sure what piqued their interest.

Joker would be livid when he found out he was captured twice on camera.

He was still a wanted criminal, going almost three months strong in hiding. This could ruin everything between you and him. Right before it could officially start.

You were rereading the article when Dick spoke up. "Oh and I talked to your mom."

You almost snapped your neck with how fast you looked up. He mentioned it so casually as if he didn't already drop a bomb on your Monday. "You did what?"

"Y/n, please keep up with me here. I talked to Mom. You haven't called her in three weeks! That's tots not like you. Anyways, she and I got to scheming and get this–"

It concerned you with just how close Dick was to your parents. More on that later you suppose. Something told you this next bit wouldn't be good.

"They're coming to visit! I know, I know. It's very last minute, but your dad and I are gonna bbq and I already invited everyone else so you don't have to worry." He beamed from your island counter.

Such a shame you were anything but ecstatic.

Was this a prank of some sort? Did you hit your head over the weekend? Was this a fever dream? You lived in Gotham City for a year now and your parents never came to visit. Not because they didn't love you, more so, both parties involved had conflicting work schedules.

They couldn't have picked a better time to visit. This was all way too much for your brain to process.

"Dick, what? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Run that back! You can't just make plans with my parents at my place and NOT TELL ME!" You shouted.

You watched him roll his crystal blue eyes, the same ones girls in this city, (and in Blüdhaven) swooned over. When you first met Dick you had to admit, his suave demeanor piqued your interest too.

You quickly got over that silly crush. His attitude was a piece of work. Speaking of... He smirked, "I just did."

As much as you loved Dick Grayson, you wanted to kill him right about now. You sat the magazine down and wiped your face with a groan.

"Hooooooooo my God! You're just like Cindy making it impossible for me to rain check things! When is this happening? Not like my input matters but it'll be nice to know when."

You just spent a relaxing four day vacation away from the city only to return and be forced into a family reunion. What joy.

Dick shrugged his shoulders, "This Thursday." He knew you would panic but the temper tantrum you were having was over the top.

Your neck rolled as your lashes fluttered in disbelief. He popped another snack into his mouth and waited for the inevitable outcry.

"Richard John Grayson!" There it was.

"Using my full name? Now that's sexy." He easily dodged the magazine you threw at his head.

It knocked something over on the counter behind him but neither of you paid it any attention. Dick glanced at you and cringed. He knew that face all too well. You were pissed.

"C'mon, Y/n. It's the perfect weather for a get-together; everyone is free, all you gotta do is unlock the door and look cute. Which wouldn't be too difficult." He added with another one of his boyish smiles.

Unfortunately, you were immune to his charms. This was not how you wanted to spend your week.

Your apartment was in desperate need of a deep clean, you knew Dick depleted your fridge, so that meant more grocery shopping, and quite honestly, you wanted to relax with Joker and spend time with him— not entertain guests!

But Dick went ahead and made plans for you. Without your permission! You had enough and started to chase him around the kitchen and into your living room.

The police officer had the upper hand and always stayed just out of your reach. His laughter floated up to the high ceilings and the husky sound only fueled your anger.

You got even more frustrated from going around in circles and stopped to catch your breath by leaning on the couch. Dick bounced on the balls of his feet, not winded in the slightest.

Since when were you so out of shape?

"Were you out of shape when you took J's dick a day ago?" The devil on your left shoulder asked out of the blue. "Cuz he folded us like a lawn chair." She cackled to herself.

"And we took it like a champ too!" The angel added after she materialized on your right shoulder.

In a rare gesture, she sided with her archnemesis. That's when you knew it was bad.

It was official. You were making a therapy appointment this week. Having full blown conversations with figments of your imagination really needed to stop. You refused to turn into the mentally ill.

Although you'd fit in perfectly within Gotham City and you doubted Joker would mind a looney girlfriend. Woah. Stop right there.

You had yet to tell J that you loved him! What business did you have putting labels on things? You physically shook those thoughts away. Back to the matter at hand.

"Who else.. did you.. invite?" You wheezed out in Dick's direction.

He faked to his left but you predicted his movements and almost got a hold of him if you didn't stumble on the decorative rug. Thankfully your colorful ottoman nearby, thus preventing a bad fall.

"Whatever do you mean Y/n?" He laughed after he knew you were okay.

He thought this was a game. Stupid agile former acrobat..

"You.. know what I mean Grayson!" You shouted as you dived over the dining table but Dick just vaulted over it with the grace of his family's name. You crumbled to the floor on the other side but quickly ran after him back into the kitchen, grumbling along the way.

"Annoying, extroverted, pain in my—"

"Oo! Bad Y/n! No swearing in the apartment!" Dick chided you.

You weren't going to catch him so you looked around for an equalizer.

Dick huffed when you hit him dead in the face with a roll of paper towels. He smacked them aside and raised his arms in surrender when he noticed you found something heavier to throw.

"S__t! Easy! Easy, Y/n! Okay, I'll explain! Just don't hurt my face!"

You lowered the bread box back down onto the counter with a heavy thud. It was solid wood, an heirloom from your mother's side of the family.

"THEN START ELABORATING GRAYSON!"

"Lower your voice. How about we take this conversation to the balcony?" He suggested.

You jutted your hip and crossed your arms, "Why? You scared?"

Dick chuckled to himself. You were a spitfire when you wanted to be. He didn't want to admit it aloud, but your aim was better than a quarterback.

"Yeah.. there's not much out there you can throw at me." He confessed.

The both of you shared a laugh and the tension between you both dissipated. "Alright, fine. I won't hurt that pretty face of yours. For now. Lead the way." You said.

He walked over to hold out his arm like a proper gentleman but not before tipping your chin up with his index finger. "You think I'm pretty, Y/n?"

"Mhm." You hummed, "Pretty annoying."

Dick just laughed and guided you out onto the balcony.

A random breeze tossed your hair as you sat your glass down on the table. Your hands were damp from the condensation and you wiped them off on your jeans as you faced Dick.

He was already staring at you with those clear blue eyes of his. They accessed you like he knew something you didn't. His knowing gaze and the gossip magazine he showed you earlier; your anxiety was at an all time high.

"So... Are you gonna explain or just stare at me all afternoon?"

He sat his own beverage down with a smirk before leaning back on the patio couch.

"The latter sounds like time better spent but.. you do deserve an explanation. Like I said earlier, your parents and I organized this get-together for Thursday. They haven't visited since you moved here and you deserve a breather from work. We all do. It's just our close friends, nothing serious Y/n, so don't go decorating or doing anything extravagant."

"I'll admit, I haven't been around lately since I picked up more shifts back home and.." You blinked in shock watching Dick Grayson, of all people, falter.

He always had the right words to say. You wrung your lip as he nodded to himself and returned your gaze.

"I don't want you lifting a finger, Y/n. Don't fight me on this! I'll clean the apartment for you, just relax these next few days and let me take care of things while I'm here."

You paled. Two months ago if he dropped by wanting to stay over, it wouldn't have been an issue. Dick came and went as he pleased— never staying more than a week at a time, but things were different now.

You had Joker.

And Dick Grayson, a police officer stationed in Blüdhaven with strong ties to Gotham City, could not find out about Joker staying here.

You could fool Barbara and the girls, but Dick with his natural perceptiveness and fondness for being nosy would definitely find incriminating evidence if he stayed over. You couldn't allow that.

"Uh... wow.. I'm uhh shocked that you, of all people, want to clean. Alfred must be clutching his pearls right about now. But um.. you don't have to stay with me Dick. I-I can clean the place and have everything ready by Thurs—-"

He waved off your excuse like a fly. "Nonsense, Y/n/n! I've been here since Friday."

Your ears were ringing and your hands felt clammy. When did it get so hot? Dick didn't notice the early stages of a panic attack occurring right in front of him. "Huh?" 

He took your startled reply with a grain of salt.

"Yeah, I arrived in town late Friday night but I had to check in with the old man and Alfred. That took longer than expected. Then Barbara texted me n' said that you were still out of town, so I crashed at your place instead of going home. I've been chillin over here ever since!"

Your right eye twitched. "H-Here? You slept here?"

Dick quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, Y/n. I just said that. I don't see the problem, I used to stay over in the past, no biggie. I didn't go in your room if that's what you're freaking out about, geez."

Like him going into your room was the issue here. You trusted him in that regard. You were panicking because Joker had temporarily moved into your guest room and the bathroom therein.

All it would take was one out of place item and Dick would ask who was staying with you, or worse. He'd deduce exactly who your roommate is and ruin everything for you.

You had to warn Joker not to come back. Scratch that. You needed to check his room and see if he left anything out.

You stood up abruptly and mumbled out an excuse.

"You know what? I really need to um, get caught up on.. uh laundry. Yes! Laundry and dusting! And have you seen those plants of mine? Dry as a bone! I should ahhh... do that. Water that. Them, I mean..."

You turned to make a beeline inside but Dick's voice halted your steps.

"Stop." He stood and eyed you pensively as he got closer.

"You ramble when you're nervous and it's rare that you let your place get so far behind on chores. Which tells me that you haven't been home in a while. Just how long have you been gone, young lady?" You avoided his gaze, picking you apart.

'Honestly Y/n, make yourself look more guilty.' You groaned internally.

Dick's eyes shifted to your shoulder to the array of bite marks finally healing from the weekend.

"You have been naughty, Y/n!" You flushed red and pushed him away.

Dick hardly moved. "Finally got laid huh? Was it Prince Charming? Did he fly you out so you could get some D? D__n Y/n, he must be really good then."

Technically he was right. Joker did in fact fly you out to Massachusetts and his stroke game was immaculate... but that wasn't the point here!

Dick laughed even harder when you rolled your eyes. "But we both know that's not the full truth. He stays here too."

He smiled at your horrified face. "Uh huh. I saw his stuff in the guest room. Woah, easy here Y/n! Don't go passing out on me!"

You swayed on your feet and Dick's arms shot out to catch you.

"Geez, dramatic much? I'm happy if you're happy, but I still want to meet him. I gotta talk to him and all."

The sun on the balcony was frying your head. Dick was talking out of his neck at this point. "T-Talk? About what?"

Dick just shook his head and drew you in for a hug.

"Y/n. Despite the hard time I give you, you're like a little sister to me. So if this guy means a lot to you, well. I wanna meet him. Someone's gotta give him a good Blüdhaven warning and I volunteer since I have all this natural intimidation going on."

You didn't have the heart to tell Dick that Joker was taller than him and far more intimidating. You simply snorted and accidentally spoke aloud.

"Tuh, good luck with that."

Dick leaned back so he could look down at you with a purple Riddler mark on his face.

"Nothing, I-I didn't say anything." Something flashed in his clear blue eyes but it was gone before you could question what.

He was back to himself in record time.

"O..K.. Hey! Why don't you go get your laundry sorted out and I'll start dusting the ceilings, yeah?" You jumped and shined your e/c eyes up at Dick.

"You'll dust for me?! Last time I almost died going up the ladder."

Dick sighed and rolled his gaze upward. "Y/n, you are too accident prone to be on anybody's ladder."

You awkwardly laughed and hugged your brother. You never had a sibling before. It was new and exciting until too much physical contact got overbearing.

"Mkay, that's enough." You pushed him away to begin the aforementioned chores.

Thankfully Dick wasn't insulted and left you to your own devices.

You watched him mosey back inside and disappear into your storage room, most likely, to fish out the cleaning supplies. While he was distracted, you sprinted to your bedroom with your phone.

You were grateful that Joker gave you his number over the weekend. However he said it was only to be used for emergencies. You considered him coming back and accidentally meeting Dick an emergency. You had to avoid them meeting at all costs.

You sealed yourself in your bedroom and made sure you dialed the one-call number correctly and waited.

It rang and rang and your stomach felt like it was sitting atop a rollercoaster hill, waiting for him to answer.

And without momentum, you rolled back to the station. It rang to a generic message. You weren't sure how you felt about leaving a voicemail but you already came this far, you couldn't waste the dial you made. So you took a deep breath and began.

"J.... It's me. Um. I have a friend over. Like staying over over. It's not safe for you to come back anytime soon. Please don't be upset with me. I also have a big family dinner this Thursday that I can't back out of so, please. Please, J! Don't come back until I give you a signal. I'll find a way.. I lo.. Ahhhh, um uh b-bye!"

You ended the call with shaky hands.

Did you almost say that on a freaking voicemail? Of all the worst times to confess, that would have been so anticlimactic. Thank goodness you caught yourself from making a complete fool of yourself.

Joker deserved a better declaration than some halfhearted mention on a voicemail that he'd probably would never listen to.

'Y/n, pull ya together girl. He's probably just busy.. '

He did sacrifice an entire weekend of his time to kick it back with you. He was probably drowning in whatever stuff a psychotic crime boss did at the office. Did Joker even have an office?

You pictured him behind an executive desk stacked high with papers and quickly wiped that image from your mind. It was replaced with J sliding down stacks of counterfeit money and torturing people in seedy back rooms. That was a better reality than Joker in an office setting.

You sighed and programmed your brain to focus on laundry and not on a certain criminal that vexed your heart and soul.

Little did you know— your mental imagery of him was spot on.

Joker was in fact working overtime to make up for his weekend vacation with you. In the short timeframe the two of you parted ways, he met up with Frost to go over pressing matters.

Joker knew about the photos.

It was upsetting that there were images of him floating around but it was more damaging to you. He tried to stop it on Thursday night, but the pap gave him and his men the slip.

Joker made sure you were safely tucked in at the hotel before he and Frost tore Atlanta apart trying to find the scumbag.

Joker thought that flying out of state would shake the trail, but this photographer was good. Too good, as if they had inside intel that helped them stalk you and Joker to Martha's Vineyard. Joker hated lots of things but he hated a rat the most.

Finding the snitch within his own organization proved to be difficult when Joker wasn't in Gotham City, so he had to wait until Monday to continue his investigation. He played things off and calmed your nerves at the beach house after that envelope came and made things worse.

Joker did not like being taunted. He needed to get to the bottom of this issue quickly. It was already irritating him.

The second he landed the jet at the Archie Goodwin International airport, outside of Gotham City proper; your security detail was there and waiting. You were sent off to your apartment and Joker immediately got to work.

Back to reality it seems.

Joker questioned if it would be easier to just whisk you away to some remote location until all of this blew over, but he knew you wouldn't go for it. You were independent and stubborn. You wouldn't hide like a coward. He admired that about you.

Too bad this was a serious threat that needed to be addressed and being stubborn about it could get you killed.

Some of your freedom would be sacrificed in order to protect you. Hopefully you would understand.

A pep rally, a test of loyalty, and a mass execution later, Joker weeded out the loose ends within his gang. One managed to give good information before croaking over and Joker saw red.

The bad feeling he had back at the airport was coming true. Things were far worse than he expected.

He followed the lead and lo and behold, it led back to his current best friend, Ivan Burbanc. Granted, Ivan didn't feel honored being Joker's friend, in time, maybe they could warm up to each other.

He already had the best seat in the house; a rickety chair underneath a light bulb, tucked away from prying eyes— although Ivan couldn't appreciate all of this since he had a sack over his head. His arms and legs were tied down and he was a frantic mess assuming the worst, until a door opened a little ways off.

Joker nodded at Mac to leave. The blond was standing guard and tossed over his shoulder, "We ruffled him up a bit during the grab. He's all yours, Boss."

Joker hummed in response. Quite honestly he didn't care about the lesser details. He just wanted to get the intel he needed and move on.

The more time he spent working was another minute spent away from you. Joker was like a drug addict needing his fix and you were an island over, blissfully unaware that Joker was getting his hands dirty, all to keep you safe.

The less you knew, the better. But he needed to see you soon.

He approached the paparazzi with calculated steps. The poor guy was nearly pissing himself in fear but Joker needed him to choke on it to get the answers he sought.

Ivan knew someone entered the room. Their exact location was unknown.

He jumped when he heard an eerie voice to his immediate right. "I just wanna know why. Why? Whyyy did you do it?"

Such an ambiguous question but it prompted the desired response. "Why what? I-I don't know what you're talking about man! I'm just a photographer! Please, you gotta let me go!"

"Just a pho-to-graph-er? Hm.. so uh, stalking and harassment are just perks of the eh.. job? You see. You tooK a picture of someone. Thursday. Night. And that... thaT. That is a big problem, uh Ivan? Is it?"

By this point, Ivan realized he was in deep s__t. This wasn't just some average Gotham City misunderstanding.

It wasn't out of place for a citizen to find themselves snatched from the street if they dabbled in crime. Being a paparazzi at times required him to get his hands dirty, but he was still a well rounded guy! This could all still be some misunderstanding! Maybe they nabbed the wrong guy?

He knew he shouldn't have taken that side gig but money was tight this month. It was just a simple shot, nothing too crazy! He was already in Atlanta so what did he have to lose except so much to gain?

He felt something sharp drag over his bare arm and panicked when it pierced the skin there. A simple graze, although deep enough to draw blood.

Whoever kidnapped him meant business. It was in his best interest to start talking.

"Ow! Alright, alright I-I was hired man!" The unknown voice asked by whom and Ivan scrambled to remember.

"Uh it was uh. S-Some anonymous tip! It wasn't through my normal means of intel but it said Y/n L/n would be flying out to Euphoria. They wanted a scandalous shot of her or something equivalent. I was already in the area so I acted on it! S-She's a high price celeb since she's so sheltered. One pic of her can go for like, thousands if it's good! E-Easy money!"

Joker's lip curled in a snarl. Was that all you were to these people? A dollar sign? Was he the only one that cared about your well being?

"You think my Light is just some quick buck?"

Ivan cringed further back into his chair at the declaration. Great, now he had an angry bf to deal with. "Okay.. l-listen buddy.. I didn't know she was your girl.."

Joker ripped the bag off from Ivan's head. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but once he recovered and saw who was in front of him, he knew he was a dead man.

"The Joker! S__t, okay.. okay! I–I'm sorry alright! I can't r-retract the spread, but we can make a deal right? Right?"

He was stumbling over his words so badly that Joker hardly understood the useless plea. He was busy thinking of ways he wanted to end this pathetic life to listen fully.

He still needed a name though.

"Fine. I li-ke deals. Who gave you the tip?" Joker asked.

The blade in his hand twinkled in the light as he locked eyes with his prey with an unreadable look. His reputation alone explained what was going to happen here if Ivan didn't respond. It motivated him to babble out nonsense.

"I.. ah.. uh some third party! I told you, I dunno! It was mad sketchy bro, but I took the risk!"

"Hmm. Well uh eye-van? Was it worth the risk?" Without warning, Joker jammed the knife into Ivan's thigh and just like he expected, this guy was a screamer.

Good thing the walls here were thick. It had been a while since Joker heard the sweet sound of sheer terror. It washed over him like a fond memory, yet he itched for more. Joker cracked his neck and waited for the screams to die down.

"Oh Ivan. Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, look at me! Hi.. you think thaT was bad. No. No. WaiT, till I take it out. Yeah? So! Who? Gave. You. The. Tip?" Right at the last word, Joker yanked the knife out.

Outside the room, Mac and another goon were placing bets on how long it would take to get results. All that was heard was muffled screams and Joker's maniacal laughter. It was good to hear the boss happy again.

"I dunno.. Boss is in a good mood today n' you know how he gets with a screamer. Maybe an hour?"

Mac nodded sagely. "Good point. Fifty says he'll drag it out."

In total, it only took twenty eight minutes.

Joker knocked on the door twice and emerged composed and cordial to the two goons stationed out front.

One of them offered him a towel to wipe his hands with and they were wise enough not to comment on the gory mess Joker left inside.

They could see it from here.

"If ya don'T mind.. Uh cleaning up my errr.. yeah." Joker vaguely pointed over his shoulder. He didn't stick around to hear them agree.

He got the name he wanted but unfortunately, it wasn't one that he knew. More digging around which meant this would take a lot longer than he had anticipated.

Joker was slightly limping down the hall when his coat pocket chimed. His leg was giving him problems again. He sighed and leaned his bodyweight on the wall and fished out the pesky device. Sure enough, one voicemail was left on his burner phone. Frost knew better than to make such a rookie mistake so that meant...

You.

Joker had the phone up to his ear in record time. Your sweet, melodic voice instantly calmed his nerves. That is until he actually listened to what you had to say. The two of you really had terrible luck.

One of your friends must've been staying over and you were so bent out of shape thinking he would be upset. He was, but it was so refreshing to hear you say please, that Joker didn't catch your last sentence for what it (almost) was.

This break would actually work out in his favor. He still needed more time to hunt down this thorn in his side and finally get to the bottom of his security leak. There was still a rat scurrying around that he needed to catch.

Thursday would give him plenty of time to do just that without being distracted— worrying about you.

Joker knew you wouldn't leave the apartment after being away for so long and your family dinner thingy would assure that you stayed in one place and not land into any trouble. Joker still had security cameras installed in your apartment if he really wanted to check in with you.

He couldn't help to be a little curious about your folks.

Now that he thought about it, you never mentioned them before. He wondered what your relationship with them was like and how they treated you in kind. Maybe he would tune in and check in on things..

Four days apart after such a wonderful weekend with you would be utter torture but Joker nodded to himself with conviction. He could(n't) do this. But he had to.

He also had to destroy this burner phone since you left a voice message on it so— he didn't see the harm in sending you a text before dumping it.

That was the only explanation he had for taking a risk, not just to soothe his separation anxiety, but yours as well.

OK see u Thurs my Light 🃏

You were shocked to see your phone light up with an unknown number messaging you.

Then you saw the playing card and instantly knew who it was. You weren't expecting a response from J. The fact that he did, felt like you were finally going down that rollercoaster at full speed.

Never mind the fact that he sent it an hour after your call or that his message was cut and dry. Despite how busy Joker was, he took the time out to text you back. That's what mattered. 

He listened to your voicemail! (and hopefully didn't catch your word fumble at the end.) You didn't care that you were in front of Dick when you smiled wide.

"Oooooh. Someone's in love."

And cue the record scratch. You watched Dick descend the ladder to face you. He set the duster down and crossed his arms at your high pitch reply.

You immediately denied it. "N-No no I'm not! You don't know what you're um talking about!"

"Y/n. You can't see your face right now but you're glowing and not that, I just finished writing a novel, glow. Whoever this guy is, he's got you down bad."

"I am not down bad..." You echoed.

Dick fixed you with a, "why is you lying" look. You huffed and scurried over to your floor length mirror to see for yourself.

You looked the same in your opinion. After talking on the balcony with Dick, you changed into some old cleaning clothes and tied your hair up and out of the way. A few curls peeked out from under your bandana to frame your face, leaving you with a messy, but natural, look.

Your skin did look aglow and fresh but that could very well be from your stress free weekend with J. Other than that..

Dick came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders. "Ya see it? You look in love."

You were still unsure yet the longer you stared, that unknown but familiar, feeling bubbled up to the surface. All the feelings that you kept bottled up since the beginning, festered front and center before reaching a tipping point.

You weren't supposed to let Joker in. He wasn't supposed to have a chance with your heart. But he found a way in, no matter how many walls you erected to keep him out. Joker still managed to tear down each one to get to you.

And today, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and let the last wall crumble down.

"You're right. I.. I'm in love." You whispered to your reflection. The smile that stared back confirmed it.

It was the only thought on your mind for three days straight. In the meantime..

You finally got around to cleaning your apartment– from the vaulted ceilings down to the decorative rugs. Every nook and cranny in between had been cleaned.

The balcony doors were left open to circulate fresh air into the place to expel all of the strong chemicals you mixed to clean while Dick kept his promise and helped when something was out of your reach or too heavy to lift.

He became concerned when you opted out on wearing a mask to mix Pine-Sol and Comet together.

"Are you trying to kill us?!" He coughed and gagged when you added bleach and Ajax into the strong concoction. Was it supposed to sizzle like that?!

"I'm tryna kill the germs, yeah." Men were such lightweights. You'd been mixing chemicals to clean since you were a kid.

He's lucky you didn't bust out the Fabuloso.

As the fumes died down, you made an extensive grocery list and glared at Dick for depleting your fridge and cupboards in such a short amount of time.

Did he not eat at home? You knew he stayed at Wayne manor periodically and Alfred was a beast in the kitchen, so there was no excuse there.

You didn't know his living situation back home in Blüdhaven but still. Why did he raid your fridge every time he came over?

He laughed it off and mentioned he would foot the bill plus the delivery cost since it would be too much for the both of you to haul back on your own. He went ahead and included the necessary things for the scheduled dinner party and you cringed at the total.

He didn't bat an eyelash at the number and swiped his black credit card. Dick Grayson got moneeeeeeey!

Mind you, you did too, but old money tends to hit a lot more differently.

With the penthouse clean enough to meet your high standards and everything prepared for Thursday, you and Dick spent the remainder of the week catching up and lounging around.

Dick preoccupied his time by watching a popular tv series. You bid yours toiling in front of your laptop. The sound of your fingers flying over the keys floated throughout the penthouse and it was just like old times.

There was a sense of calmness that you hadn't felt in quite some time. You almost forgot that you were deeply involved with Gotham's City's most wanted criminal. Almost.

A startling reminder of your predicament flashed on the tv screen late Wednesday night. You were working on your wip on the floor while Dick relaxed on the couch after dinner.

You recognized GCN's nightly female reporter's voice as she drowned on about some political news before getting to the segment headliner.

"Now onto developing news. Sightings of the notorious Joker shook the Roanoke Mall early this afternoon. Local shoppers were terrified to discover the clown was among them, not as a terrorist, but as a consumer. Our correspondent Emily Vega reports. Emily."

The coverage panned from the studio to a blonde who was standing next to an eyewitness.

Emily nodded for a full minute before giving a delayed greeting. She then recapped the situation before handing the mic over to the witness.

GCN flashed their name and title on a banner yet you paid no attention.

"It was crazy! One minute everything was fine, the next The Joker and a few of his crew came strolling in, lookin' around! I thought they were gonna rob the place but get this! He just walked up to the counter and asked for one of my coworkers. I was scared because you don't just talk to The Joker without you know." They made a throat cutting gesture before continuing.

"Yeah, him and Rick just talked in the corner and right when I thought, yeah we're gonna die, keep in mind Rick ain't the best talker; The Joker bought somethin'! Paid in cash, asked for gift wrapping, and everything! You know when I stop and think bout it.. he's actually a nice guy..."

Emily jerked the microphone back and quickly ended the segment. "Reporting live from Jacob and Co. back to the studio."

The time on the clock tower behind her put the initial interview around midday.

Apparently this happened earlier and GCN was resharing the information, you surmised.

"Very scary. Thank you Emily. Management at Jacob and Co. known for their pricey custom jewelry, refused to comment on what exactly was discussed and purchased by The Joker, but the GCPD has since taken over the investigation with hopes of his recapture being imminent. As of today, The Joker remains at large for three long months. When more information arises, count on GCN to report it to you live. Now onto the recent missing persons report of a controversial photographer Ivan...."

You jumped when Dick spoke up.

"A nice guy? Are they even talking about the same Joker? Him and nice in the same sentence? He probably threatened the employees to keep quiet. Geez, when will the people of Gotham learn that The Joker is extremely dangerous?" Dick preached from your couch.

You enjoyed when Dick got passionate about things and ranted but this anger felt personal somehow..

You trailed your eyes away from him and back to the tv screen.

The reporter was going on about the missing paparazzi but your mind was elsewhere. Dick looked at you when you hummed aloud. "Huh. I wonder what he bought."

You locked eyes with Dick who looked anything but amused by your random thought. "What?" You asked.

"That's what you're thinking about Y/n? Not the fact a wanted man walked into a jewelry store and walked out without the authorities being called, but about what he purchased?No one sees the problem here! On that note, I'm going to bed and you should too. We got a big day tomorrow."

Dick turned off the tv and stepped over you to head to bed.

You were left stunned in the dark after his outburst but still thinking about what J bought.

Jacob and Co. was rather pricey and it just so happened to be the same jeweler you bought most of your favorite pieces from.

What was Joker up to?

"I'll know soon enough I guess." You mumbled to yourself. Dick did have a point though.

Tomorrow was a big day and you needed all of the rest you could get. Joker looked alright on tv so that put your mind at ease to start your nightly routine for bed.

Finally it was Thursday.

You really didn't want to entertain guests today but the sooner you did, the faster you could send everyone home and call for Joker to return.

You were missing him more and more by the day.

It was the mantra that motivated you to wake up and get ready. Dick stated all you had to do was look pretty and open the door, so you followed his instructions.

Once you washed up, you donned a simple but stylish denim jumpsuit. You didn't bother with shoes and let your freshly painted toes add a pop of color to your ensemble.

You also choose to wear your hair down for a change and tucked the excess back behind your ears.

When you opened your bedroom door, an explosion of smells hit your nostrils. Dick was already in the kitchen with his Kiss the Cook apron on (it looked better on Joker) over a pair of shorts and a simple tee.

Dick's natural looks could make anything look high end. He noticed you hesitating in the archway and beckoned you over with a loud greeting.

"Good morning Y/n/n!! I'm just chopping up some veggies and finishing up the marinade for the meat. Wanna help?"

You shrugged and walked over. It was then you saw the unorganized chaos Dick was orchestrating.

"Chile, what's on the menu?" You chuckled.

"I'm glad you asked! Your dad and I are bbq three types of meat, the slaw is in the fridge; ready to mix. Beans are prepped for the oven. Mom is bringing the greens since I couldn't find collards in this wretched city to save my life... We'll have pasta and potato salad as vegan options for her. I do need you to make cornbread and the Mac and cheese however." He grinned at you.

Your eyes bugged at the menu presented. Good thing you went ahead and decorated the table against Dick's instructions. Nothing serious he said.. this was a banquet!

But then you replayed his speech and stopped short.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do anything but look cute and open the door, Grayson?" You crossed your arms with a playful grin.

He noticed it and groaned. Of course you caught his quickly spoken request.

"C'mon.. Y/n! You make the best Mac and cheese I've ever tasted and I.. always overcook the cornbread." He looked away, dejected.

You snorted and got out the necessary ingredients before tossing your insult over your shoulder. "That's because you ain't got no ancestors to tell you how to season."

You laughed at his butthurt face.

"Funny. Real funny." He griped.

The two of you quickly found a rhythm in the spacious kitchen to finish preparing everything before the guests arrived. Time got away from you both but around noon, there was a knock on the door.

Dick was elbows deep in potatoes so you quickly wiped your hands clean and made for the front. "Coming!"

You opened the door to Barbara and Morgana's wide smiles.

"Did someone order your favorite dessert?" Barbara sang while pointing to the big travel container in her lap. You squealed and let them in. "You baked?!"

"I sure did! I made all your favorites and Dick asked for a pie. Weirdo." She let Morgana push her in so she could keep a good grip on the sweets.

You eyed Morgana empty hands and arched an eyebrow. "Uhhh what did you bring?"

"Myself, thank you." She jokingly quipped.

You held back a laugh. There was always that one person at the cookout who came empty handed. You never guessed it would be her.

Though not surprising, Morgana busted out bottles of alcohol from thin air and started mixing a fruity sangria and a separate nonalcoholic lemonade batch for the party. You just shook your head at your friend. Where she kept magically procuring alcohol from, you'll never figure out.

You left the two girls to their mixing to help Dick back inside the kitchen.

More time passed and the penthouse was abuzz with more delicious aromas and laughter. You barely heard the doorbell since Barbara tapped into your speakers and started a playlist for everyone.

Luckily Morgana heard it and moseyed over to answer it. She opened the door, drink in hand, but quickly dropped everything to help the esteemed guests inside.

"Grayson! Those ribs better be on the grill!"

You and Dick froze after hearing the loud, but familiar, bellowing voice.

He dropped a mixing spoon on the floor and locked eyes with you. After that, it was a race to see who could hug them first.

Naturally he beat you to the living room simply because you stopped about halfway at the sight.

You hadn't seen your parents for an entire year and my, how nothing changed.

Your dad was still tall and imposing with his split eyebrow and sharp features. He had a protective arm wrapped around your mother who literally seemed to be invincible to age. The only factor to hint at it was the tasteful streaks of grey in her luscious hair. And quite frankly, it could pass as a money piece hair dye.

Other than that, the two of you could be twins.

Time seemed to stop when two pairs of e/c locked paths. The bushel of greens in her hands were passed off to her husband the moment she saw your eyes water.

"Mama..."

Everyone in the room watched the long awaited reunion. You didn't care how old you were; you hadn't seen your mother in a year. So much happened since then that your emotions simply got the better of you.

You moved out for the first time to a completely different city. You were held at gun and knifepoint, almost killed at your charity, rescued from said event and then abducted from your home by a schizophrenic, former district attorney. You've been through so much without your mother's shoulder to lean on.

Everything just came pouring out. You weren't making a lick of sense, but she just hugged you closer and petted your hair.

"My baby! What did this mean ol' city do to you? Dry your tears, love. Oh don't you look so beautiful, doesn't she honey?" She twisted a bit so your father could join the hug.

He too was a little misty eyed but real men didn't shed tears. Okay, maybe one or two.

"Yeah she does! Both of my girls are." He kissed both your forehead and his wife's before smiling down at his armful.

The family was back together.

"C-Can I join the family hug please?" The three of you looked over at Dick who was bashfully waiting his turn.

Morgana and Barbara both called him an idiot but much to their surprise, he was snatched up by your father and inducted into the hug. Apparently he was part of the family after all. Who would've thought?

Your mother let you go with a wet chuckle and started to dote on Grayson.

"And look at you! Ack! You look so pale! Have you been getting your necessary nutrients? What about you Y/n? You both look so skinny! Lemme go put these greens on so y'all can eat. C'mon on Y/n! We can catch up while we pick 'em!"

You wiped your face dry. "Yes ma'am."

You weren't that skinny right? You shared a look with Dick who— mind you, was all muscle, and fit as can be. He rolled his eyes not believing it either.

You look fine, he mouthed to you before your dad slapped him loudly on the back. It sounded like a clap of thunder. Dick hardly budged at the impact.

"I'm serious boy. If them ribs ain't on the grill by now, you done screwed up." Your dad bellowed.

They shared a laugh as they made their way to the balcony where the grill was indeed steady cooking the various meat for the feast. That left the girls to gather in the kitchen, sharing laughs and jokes about your year so far living in the city.

Your mom was placing a lid on a boiling pot when Barbara continued the recap. "We finally got her to go out clubbing with us!"

Morgana quickly swallowed her drink and added, "Yeah Mrs. Y/L/N, we were flown out to ATL and had a blast!"

"Really? My Y/n at a club? I'd pay money to see that." Your mom joked. You flushed red and whined, "Ma.."

"Don't Ma me. I'm so used to you indoors with a book in hand. Or better yet, writing one. I'm still waiting for a tour of the place. Your royalties but be something else to afford the top floor."

You jumped to attention and did just that.

Even though Barbara had been over numerous times, she came along as well as Morgana. Being the new friend of the circle, Morgana didn't have the opportunity to venture past your living room and was excited to see the rest of the place in its entirety.

"Four bedrooms, one of them is empty at the moment. Two and a half baths. A massive storage room, my own laundry room, two private balconies and have you seen this view?" You led everyone past your sunroom and out to the balcony where Dad and Dick were glazing the ribs with bbq sauce.

Your mother gasped in awe after you mentioned the view.

She could see Dini Highway from here, it was incredible. Yet the verdict was still out. "Are you happy here?"

You were stealing a taste of the sauce while your dad wasn't looking but heard the question. "Uh.. yeah! I love it here, Mom. I tell you and dad that all the time when I call."

"Then why didn't you show us your room?"

Morgana choked on her drink. Barbara and Dick pointedly looked away and your Dad noticed all of this and addressed the elephant in the room.. or correction; balcony.

"Y/n. You're not isolating yourself again are you? We talked about this... It ain't healthy." He sighed.

Your mother, being a doctor, nodded in agreement alongside him.

You were on your own since your friends weren't entering this fight but thankfully the doorbell ringing saved you. You dodged that awkward bullet. Saved by the bell.

You padded back inside to the foyer and opened the front door, although you quickly wished that you hadn't.

"Ayyyyyy!! Sorry we late! We bought Tequila!" Florence cried out before giving you a hug. She bounced you around in a circle yet your attention was on her plus one standing behind her.

Neo held up the two decorative tequila bottles and winked. Lovely. Florence and booze. What could possibly go wrong?

By the time Florence and her date arrived, the food was ready.

You called everyone over to your dinner table where the vast spread spanned the massive table. Dick brought over the steaming cuts of meat and set them center stage around the other side dishes and fixings to eat.

"This is a lot of food.." Barbara awed.

"Yes indeed! We can thank Grayson for buying and cooking it all but most importantly, let's thank Him. May we bow?"

The table nodded and began to bow their heads. As you were closing your eyes, you spotted Neo rolling his.

Rude, but what could you say? You weren't about to force your family's religion on anyone. It was optional.

Your mom ended Grace beautifully and prompted everyone to dig in. Her and Dick really worked hard to get everything on the table and you could hear multiple stomachs growling; everything looked so good.

The sound of fine china rattling and polite chatter filled the air.

"Mr. Y/L/N, Y/n told me that you don't drink so I made a nonalcoholic version for you." Morgana said while pouring your dad a glass.

She was making her way around the table, filling up everyone's glasses with their selected drink before taking a seat next to you.

"Heh, thanks. Twelve years and I don't wanna get yelled at by my girls." As soon as he said that, you and your mom stared him down like a hawk.

"My point exactly." He laughed while taking a sip. "Mmph, that's good! Might steal that recipe from you Morgana!"

"See Y/n. My non-alcoholic drinks are just as good as the original." She raised her glass to your father at the head of the table, opposite of you.

Your mom was seated to his left and sipped his choice just to make sure. Not bad at all.

She remembered you saying on a call that Morgana and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group. Not that she didn't trust them, but the virgin drinks looked the same as the alcohol infused one that Florence was tipping back.

Florence looked over at your mom who was seated to her right and smiled. Dick was serving Neo a portion of bbq at the end of the table, on your right.

Dick didn't know the guy but he came with Florence so he couldn't say much. He honestly just seated him next to you since it was the only empty seat left.

Once Dick sat down in his own seat, (on your dad's right and Barbara's left) he whispered in her ear asking who Neo was.

"Florence's client/boyfriend. He's the one that flew us out to Atlanta." Barbara whispered back.

Dick nodded briefly and sized the guy up.

His experience as Nightwing told him this man was bad news. But you seemed to be at ease around him if the pointed glares you sent his way were any indication. You were a good judge of character so Dick wasn't that worried.

Everyone was eating and tossing stories back and forth over dinner when the doorbell rang again.

You frowned and sat your fork down, looking down the table at Dick. "....You expecting anyone else? You only said eight plate settings."

He was already asking Barbara and Morgana to slide down to make room. Not like they needed to move, since your table was already long enough and technically could seat twelve— but you were curious as to who else he invited.

"Aren't you going to answer the door sweetheart?" Your mother scolded you.

She taught you manners so you scooted your chair back to go answer the door. You didn't check the peephole before swinging the door open.

You blinked a mile a minute when Bruce Wayne stood in your small hallway holding a black bag. "Bruce?"

"Good evening. I apologize for being late. Work held me longer than I was expecting. May I come in?" He was dressed casually in a dark shirt and slacks and dang it, he looked good.

"Uhhhh.. I guess?" You stepped aside to let him come in as you mentally berated yourself for thinking about Bruce in such a way.

That chapter is closed Y/n. You have Joker now. Why are you even looking at Bruce like that? He's easy on the eyes, but girl! J is built different out here! He all types of daddy.

You nodded to yourself and closed the front door. When you returned to the dining room, everyone had greeted Bruce (except Neo of course) with open arms.

"Y/n!! You didn't tell me you knew Bruce Wayne!!" Your mother was over the moon at the possibilities.

You fixed her with a deadpan glare and gestured to Dick. "Mom. Dick Grayson is right there, whatchu mean?"

"She has a point, babe." You dad came to your defense. The two men were a packaged deal.

Dick waved at his guardian when he sat down at your left. Of course Dick updated the seating so this could happen. Sneaky little..

"This food looks amazing! Once again I apologize for arriving so late." The businessman mused as your mother personally fixed him a plate.

You joined Neo in giving Wayne an annoyed glare. Florence noticed the two of you shared reactions far too similar for it to be a coincidence.

Bruce asked for a little of everything and leaned over to ask you a question. "Is that your mother or your sister, Y/n?"

Your mom laughed and gave him a generous serving of potato salad after overhearing his genuine query.

"Y/n! Is he always this gregarious?" She swatted his broad shoulders as she made it back to her seat.

Everyone was off in their own sidebar conversations but you still attempted to reply to your mother from across the table. "Uh, sure I guess. I-I mean, I wouldn't know.."

"You don't know? Dick told us you stayed with Wayne for two weeks." Your dad said at the head of the table.

Your mom agreed with him and added, "..and you said you enjoyed this past weekend away out of town. I thought it was with Bruce."

Neo snickered into his glass and thus stole the table's attention. He had been quiet for the duration of dinner but he couldn't contain his comment any longer. "Oh she enjoyed her weekend alright. Not with him tho."

The entire table went dead silent.

You weren't the only one staring at the club owner in shock. Was he being serious right now? You kicked him under the table but he didn't seem phased.

Florence was also quiet, reading into things more than she should've, and grew way too curious over time. She had to know about this weird chemistry between you and Neo.

"How would you know? You told me you had business to attend to over the weekend." Her nails tapped erratically against her glass, making Barbara and Morgana tense.

Neo scoffed. "I did. Someone had to keep Princess safe."

Your mother choked on her lemonade and Bruce narrowed his eyes at this shady guy. He didn't like how he used a pet name so casually with you.

Your jaw dropped and stared at Neo as if he grew a second head. He hadn't used that nickname for you in ages.

Florence eyed Neo briefly and laughed at your bewildered face. "Oh.. okay! Okay. I see what's good. So y'all f__king, huh?"

"Oh s__t." Barbara smacked Dick's arm for interrupting but returned to watch the drama unfolding. That didn't stop his mouth from running. "Wait.. is this Neo guy your Prince Charming, Y/n/n?"

"What?! No!" You denied.

"D__n right. I ain't no prince." He replied over a forkful of beans.

You glared at him. "You aren't helping." He just shrugged and returned your kick under the table, although a lot harder. You blinked back the pain.

"Wooooooow. And here I thought we were friends, Y/n. Going behind my back? After you encouraged me to get with him at his club." Florence chuckled once, it was filled with pent up frustration.

She was getting heated and the alcohol wasn't helping things. "This some real snake behavior." She added.

"Sweetheart, is this true?" Your mother asked gently.

Finally someone was doubting things here! You grabbed onto her lifeline and didn't let go. "No, Mom! Neo and I aren't even like that...." You gestured wildly between you and him.

Why did Dick seat him at your right hand side?! This looked worse than it was.

"Then what the f__k are you two then? Cuz to me, y'all way too close with y'all knowing glares, him calling you Princess and s__t. Why is he protecting you'over the weekend' and why you just sitting there acting all hush hush and shady b__h?"

Your father coughed into his fist. He swore like a sailor but this conversation was getting a little rowdy even for his standards.

A few seats down, Morgana was still eating, watching everything unfold like it was a tv drama. Traitor..

"What you gotta say in all this?" Florence fired at her date, "Ion like how you sitting there looking all smug."

Neo pointed to himself and laughed. "Ohhh, you want me to speak now?" He asked.

"Yeah! Yeah I do. So speak!" Flo fired back.

He nodded and caught your eye. "You want me to tell them the truth, Y/n?"

All eyes turned to you. You were choking on air, unable to breathe. This was not happening. "Y-You... We can't.. Neo.. don't." You gripped the table till your knuckles turned white.

"Okay, I think Y/n needs some fresh air right now." Barbara began. Florence shot down that suggestion real quick.

"Nah she don't need s__t except a good explanation or her feelings won't be the only thing hurtin. I suggest you start talking hoe."

"Watch it now, Flo." Your dad warned.

He didn't like where this conversation was going but he'd do his best to keep the peace and get to the bottom of things, civilly.

The Haitian scooted back from the table to take a breath. She started counting under the breath. No one was ready for when she reached ten.

"Y/n.. seriously this is getting weird.. are you and Neo.. you know.." Barbara hesitated.

"NO! I don't even like the guy! Not after the crap he pulled at Luigi's.."

He tossed his head back with a groan. "Bruhh. That's in the past Y/L. Can we please move on from dat?"

"Lugi's pizza? Y/n. Did this happen the same time we went on a date? Now that you mention it.. You came back from that bathroom break quite distraught." Bruce quickly rounded on Neo. "What did you do to Y/n?"

"None of your business, Wanye." Neo bit back just as fiercely.

"Not you pulling two pulling two hotties at the same time Y/n. You is devious!" Morgana cackled. Dick waved her off and she eyed him until he spoke.

"That'll be an incorrect calculation my dear, Morgana. It's actually three judging by the clothing size I found in her guest bedroom."

You buried your head in your hands. Whhhhhhyyyyyy did Dick have to open his mouth?

"OH! SO YOU BEEN SLEEPING HERE TOO?!" Florence shouted at her now ex.

Neo looked distraught when she stood up from her seat and stormed towards your guest rooms.

You had to think for a second before getting up too. Joker's clothes were still in there. Why didn't you move his stuff into your room earlier?!

"Flo, wait!!" You ran after her. Bruce wanted to see this for himself and followed behind you.

Your father tossed his napkin on the table as he shook his head at his wife.

"I didn't raise no hoe, (your mother's name.)" She winced but laughed to lighten up the mood. "Hmm, that is true but you married one."

Morgana snorted when Dick gagged. "You're acting like they're your parents.

"They are." He was still cringing when a series of shouts came from the back. Everyone still seated at the table waited for anything since they couldn't hear what was being said.

Florence stormed back into the dining room to thrust a dress shirt into Neo's face. He was a pillar of stone. His visage never wavered at the evidence literally being thrown in his face.

"Why did I find the shirt I bought you in her closet?!"

You finally caught up with Florence in the dining room, who staring at her date venomously.

Bruce stood behind you, silently demanding answers as well, but for his own selfish reasons. He saw some things in your guest bedroom that made him question who this lover of yours truly was..

"A black dress shirt Flo? That's rather vague to use as evidence." Barbara sighed. "Every guy owns like a dozen of them."

"Aht. Try again. You got me messed up if I don't remember my purchases. This Armani baby and Giorgio ain't cheap. Is this the dress suit I bought you a few months back?" She asked her stoic date.

Everyone looked at Neo who was mid sip of his drink. He glanced at the label before looking up into your pleading eyes behind Florence. "Yeah it's mine."

He didn't comment that she bought the wrong size. She was already fired hot, including that fact would be more insult to injury.

You didn't understand why Neo was lying. Joker only wore his custom purple suits and the casual clothes that he bought.

You knew he had an array of disguises at his disposal and that black suit was the same one he wore to Euphoria. You had no clue it was actually Neo's, given to his boss last minute to blend in with the employees at the club.

It suited Joker better than Neo if you were the judge of things but now was not the time.

Unfortunately, Neo being the owner was the truth and that did not help your case right now. Your silence, the newfound evidence.. It all pointed at you and Neo having an affair behind Florence's back.

And you refused to lose one of your friends all because of a misunderstanding.

For starters, it was hard for you to make friends and you and Flo were childhood friends at that. The two of you argued over the years and had some fights, but nothing like this. It was never over a guy.

She was the popular cheerleader in highschool. You were the quiet girl from the poetry club; two different circles that would never share the same love interests.

Morgana's gasp and Barbara's look of distrust was breaking your heart.

You broke the girl code and by default, they were taking Florence's side. These were your only friends in life.

Was Joker worth this heartbreak? How could you fix this complete misunderstanding while also keeping Joker a secret?

You felt Bruce's hands settle on your shoulders and the weight of it didn't feel comforting. Everyone in this room was against you. How could he be any different?

It was the worst feeling ever being all alone against the odds. You had the instinctual urge to run.

Bruce didn't give you the chance. "Y/n. It might not be appropriate to ask, but is he the reason why you broke things off with me?"

Everyone jumped when your mom groaned in pain. "Babe, are you okay?!" Your dad asked. Now was not the time for medical emergencies!!

Your mom clutched her chest in agony. "No, I am not OK! Our baby fumbled the bag with The Bruce Wayne for this common street thug? Where did we go wrong?" She sobbed.

"D__n, I'm right here." Neo grumbled. He overlooked how everyone here assumed he was a thug. They weren't wrong.. but dang.

Dick came to his adoptive mother's aid. You should've known anything else from his mouth tonight would be unhelpful. Dick lived for drama.

"Exactly ma! I can see why you don't wanna date the old man, Y/n, but I'm not convinced this guy here is your lover boy. He doesn't look anything like Prince Charming from the gossip magazine!" Dick said.

You wanted to choke him right then and there. Then, you wanted the floor to swallow you up. The entire room was confused until your mother spoke up. "What gossip magazine?"

"Dick, please.." You pleaded in vain.

Nothing would stop him when he was the center of attention. He grinned wide and rushed into the kitchen to grab that long forgotten magazine and held it up for your parents to see.

"This one! Our dear Y/n had quite the weekend with her Prince Charming."

Your father snatched the mag from Grayson and read it over. His eyes widened before he passed it around the table.

One after another your friends and family read about your privacy being violated, printed for the whole world to see, before the magazine landed in Florence's hands.

She took the longest to read the article and for good reason.

"He looks familiar..." She mumbled.

You and Neo paled at the same time.

Florence was drunk that Thursday night at Euphoria but she got a good look at Joker even with his disguise in place. The VIP floor was dark but not dark enough to conceal noticeable scars like Joker's. Your panic attack was back and raging harder than before.

"How... how long have you two been together, Y/n?" She asked you. When you didn't answer, she continued. "Why did I even ask? It doesn't matter. Y'all two were on some secret bull___t that night at the club. I knew I recognized him from somewhere!"

She didn't say who the him in her sentence was but it was practically obvious. Your greatest fear was being realized.

Neo must've come to the same realization because his entire demeanor changed. Flo quickly crossed the room to get into your personal space. "How long Y/n?!"

Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics.

Your audience wasn't too far behind given the sudden change in the air. Florence wasn't messing around anymore. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Your father was scolding Dick for starting all of this, whereas your mother, Barbara, and Morgana were screaming at Florence to chill.

Much to your shock, Bruce was a silent brick wall behind you. He didn't offer you protection or a means to escape. You were rooted in place by his strong hands on your shoulders.

Neo saw your distress and braved the fray to try and to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead. "I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"

"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.

"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"

He didn't let Flo get far and grabbed her before she could whirl back on you.

"Get the f__k off me Neo! I know! And how could you let her!! Of all people, why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"

"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.." You pleaded. That seemed to ignite her anger more.

Nothing was making sense. She couldn't seem to understand why you were so calm about all of this. Maybe she guessed wrong? No! She knew who she saw....

She broke free from Neo's hold and snarled right in your face. "Both of you are insane. You two deserve each other."

With that said, she grabbed her purse from the foyer closet and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

You were left with chills running down your spine. Florence knew. She had to. Both of you are insane.

Her harsh words echoed in your ear. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.

Neo was on the same wavelength since a dark shadow crossed his features before he took off after her.

You couldn't think straight amidst all of the chaos. Your own thoughts and fears were drowning out the mayhem that was in your dining room.

Everyone was talking over one another but to you, it all sounded like you were underwater. Those two words were on repeat in your head.

Florence knows. She knows about Joker.

And if the night wasn't theatrical enough, you fainted right into Bruce's awaiting arms.

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 14}

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader 

Summay: Kansas City keeps throwing curveballs at your group, but the city limits are thinning and it looks like you'll all make it out.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon compliant deaths, gore, description of injuries (not explicit) 

A/N: this is a bit of a smaller chapter, to help me get back into the motions with this fic. i think i psyched myself out with this fic due to how serious i set up the story line and how to the book i'm keeping it (for the most part), so to speak. but also like, the hoard scene is just really beautifully done in the show and i didn't want to mess it up but rushing through it, i really wanted to display that reader an Ellie are capable of taking care of themselves under pressure. 

please let me know what y'all think! and thank you for taking the time to read! 

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist 

There was a large creaking of metal filling the night air before the truck that had crashed began to teeter in its spot as if it was on the cusp of a cliff. The quake of earth giving way caused you to stumble, your foot coming off of Perry’s neck as everyone turned their attention to the source of the sound. The truck swayed where it was half crashed into the house it had served into, the sound of metal grating on metal making your head throb. Before it could even fully tip forward you took a step to distance yourself further from it. Kathleen didn’t seem to notice as she was completely focused on the movement of the truck. It disappeared with a crumble of earth into the ground completely, a sink hole having opened up in the house as a result of the crash or had already been forming over time and had given way from the weight of the vehicle.

A feeling of cold dread shot down your spine at the quiet rumbling of that sounded from the dilapidated structure when silence would’ve been the natural progression once the vehicle settled below the ground. Whispers of snarling ignited goosebumps along the entirety of your body and you were stepping back further the more intensely they grew.

You were quickly leaning down and helping Perry up from where he was still pinned beneath your weight. He didn’t tear his eyes away from the rumbling and now alarmingly low roar of voices that was beginning to flood the air, though his hands grasped at your good one as he stood. He continued to face the house, as did everyone, the sound could only mean one thing….

Your motions were quick to retrieve your guns from the ground, placing them back in their respective holds and you had only managed two or three steps toward where you had been hiding and where your machete was abandoned on the ground when a crowd of rotted bodies all but exploded out of the sinkhole opening. Your heart caught in your throat and your nerves felt like they were buzzing, but you didn’t let the fear halt you. You let it fuel you. You broke out into a run, scooping up the machete from the ground and shouted for Ellie as loud as you could, hurting your already hoarse throat.

-

You swung as hard as you could at the two runners closing in on you, Ellie’s back to you as she tried to help guide you away from them in a relatively safe path through the utter chaos that had exploded. A shot rang out close and took out one of advancing figures. You lunged and landed the blade of your machete in the side of the second one’s head, the squelching sound bringing a wave of nausea over you that you pushed down.

You turned around and ushered Ellie toward a vehicle, silently telling her to hide in the confines as more figured descended on you. Two of them fell to the ground, shots smoking at the apex of their foreheads telling you how they were downed. As you looked up, your eyes connected with Perry across a small distance. His rifle was raised, and it was obvious he had helped you. You nodded at him, an understanding blooming between you. It was all circumstantial, if he had encountered you out beyond the walls or even within them and Kathleen hadn’t painted you as a threat, he would’ve tried to help you. Just as you would’ve tried to help him.

Ellie fell to the ground when one of the figures you were fighting turned and set its sights on her, grasping for her. You cursed under your breath as you felt a sting on your own arm, one of the clickers in front of you getting a good deal closer than you were comfortable with as your attention had been focused on her. You shouted over your shoulder at her to crawl, to crawl and keep low, keep vigilant and get to the damn vehicle and lock the doors. There was a shot that rained down and took the clicker crawling after her out, allowing you a short lived moment of relief as you tried to thin the hoard.

Precise shots rained down on any threat that got too close to you or Ellie. You knew Joel was trying to help in any way, the guilt of not being able to do so down on the ground in the trenches of the chaotic scene was probably eating away at him. It was better for him to be up in that house, away from all of this.

It was terrifying.

Time seemed to be moving in slow motion, everything seemed to draw out in long seconds. But it was also moving at an alarming speed, making your head spin as you focused on the task of getting Ellie to safety. She was running from the vehicle you had shoved her toward nearly careening into you in her haste, frantic. Bodies dropped as she made her way toward you. You saw a glimpse of the small Infected figure now trapped as it clawed desperately at the glass of the windows. The sound of its nails and fingers breaking against the glass were focused in your ears and it made you shudder. You ushered her close to your side, guiding her hand to grip a strap on your pack.

You weren’t near the crowd that had tried to ambush you. They had dispersed quickly, instincts taking over revenge. Haphazard shouts of orders barely registered

Shrieking hit your ears harshly and you spun around to see both Henry and Sam being pulled from underneath a car by a small form of Infected. You and Ellie both rushed over, your machete swinging wildly as you tried to clear a path. The revving of an engine was loud as a car came out of nowhere an you pushed Ellie away from you toward the boys, throwing yourself to the ground just in time to avoid the speeding vehicle. Inside the driver was being torn apart, blood splattering against the inside of the windows in a gory display.

You scrambled up and reached for the legs of one of the figures clawing after Sam, pulling it toward you and setting your blade into the back of its head. Ellie  managed to stab the one that had done the same to Henry, dragging the man from underneath the truck and had been about to sink its teeth into his back.

“Let’s go, now! Kids in front. Run!” Once they were freed, though they were injured much the same as you and Ellie, you ushered everyone ahead of you. You all moved down the street, off to the main path of asphalt to avoid being easy targets. “Run as far as you can and do not look back! Joel will meet you if we can’t!”

They were about to break into the line of trees surrounding the neighborhood when a figure appeared behind you, yelling at you to stop. You turned on your heel, the gun in your body holster in your hands and the machete being secured to your pack in a breath. Kathleen stood before you, the scene of what she caused playing out behind her in a sicky ironic way. She had fought so hard for revenge, to find justice that she had damned the very people who had been looking to her for guidance and were willing to help her achieve her goal.

She was closest to you, the kids and Henry further back but sill too close to her for your comfort.

“I can’t let you go, you took everything from me.”

“I didn’t take shit from you, Kathleen. You got greedy and damned yourself.” You held your gun with its last few shots just as adamantly as she was holding hers to you. Mirroring each other in a bubble of intense silence as chaos continued to reign all around. You felt the presence of your group behind you, and you silently urged them to step back with a short nudge of your head, not daring to take your eyes off the dangerous woman in front of you. If they could just breech the tree line, they would be that much safer.

Your eyes caught movement over her shoulder the same moment Ellie let out a quiet gasp.

Behind her, the same small Infected that had stalked Ellie was climbing over an abandoned vehicle, its head inclined toward Kathleen.

You had the passing thought to fire on her in a moment of sympathy, to save her from the intense and panicked death that she was sure to have. You even went as far as to lift up your gun higher, just as the small form lunged at her but her words of children deserving to die rang through your mind and you lowered it. Joel was behind you suddenly, having made sure everyone had begun to move before he approached you where you were rooted in your spot. The violence of Kathleen being torn apart and her screams holding you still.

“This way now! Move!” You heard his orders but they were muffled as if you were underwater, your gaze locked on the sight in front of you.

Joel reached out and placed a hand tight on your right shoulder gently, calling your name softly but no less urgently.

“We gotta go. Don’t wanna get mixed in this anymore than we already have.” His voice held a weird timbre, as if he was barely able to get the words out, they sounded forced from his chest. He needed to get everyone to safety, he needed to get you to safety.

Your eyes snapped back into focus, and you turned to look up at his worried face. He reached up and wiped away the tears you didn’t know you had been crying.

“C’mon, we gotta go.” You followed him, hands clasped tight together as you both ran to catch up with the rest of your group.

-

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, the pain in your arm was too much, your vision was blurring and going black at the edges, your eyes refusing to focus. Your tears had quickly waned from those of horror and sadness of the city’s downfall to that of your own personal pain.

“I gotta stop, I think I’m doing more damage to it the longer I don’t do something about it.” Your voice was hoarse from your frantic cries when the injury had happened.

“I don’t know how to help.” Joel’s voice was rough, panicked beneath the crumbling resolve of trying to remain calm for you, for everyone as you tried to get as far away from the hoard as possible. His hands hurt where he clenched a gun, the metal hot with the heat of his stress and anxiety. His other one still holding tight to your good one.

You all had managed to put some distance between the absolute horror show of what had just happened and were all crowded in front of what used to be an apartment complex or a motel, it was hard to discern. The only thing that everyone knew for sure was that you were on the outskirts of the city limits, there were more highway junctions and open fields than condensed buildings and neighborhood streets.

“We just need to find somewhere safe, let’s clear this building and just…hunker down for the night.” You tried not to noticeably sway on your feet, but you think you failed as you felt Ellie’s small hands grasp at you. She was wrapping her arms around your sides, body offering support on your right side, careful to not knock your left shoulder or arm at all, your broken arm still held close to your chest. You couldn’t feel anything below your elbow and anything above that was throbbing.

“I’ll help anyway I can, but that really doesn’t fucking look good.” Ellie’s face was worried, eyes wide with panic. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the white of the bone sticking up through your skin despite it making her slightly nauseous. Joel snapped his fingers, the sound breaking her focus on the sight of your injury. She looked to him, trying to school her expression but she didn’t think she succeeded. His frown was a touch too loose to be intimidating.

“I know a little from helping the doc, but not much.”

“I think…” You let out a shaky breath, not sure if the hysterical laughter bubbling through the air you heard was your own or one of your companions. It was unnerving, regardless of who was making the weird sound.

“You can’t even stand up straight, you think you can patch it up?” Joel’s voice loud in your ear, you weren’t sure when he had moved so close, but his body was a hard line against yours. His own replacing Ellie as she now stood slightly off to the side, close to Henry, the two holding hands as they tried to keep their heads in such a situation. He was genuinely asking, not trying to make you feel lesser for being so out of touch now that adrenaline was fading from everyone.

“I have some stuff in my pack.” Your words were slurred, black spots popping up and making it hard to focus. You felt yourself sway again, his chest coming to support your back, arms secure around you as you felt the adrenaline drain from your body completely. Your head lulled back, knocking into his shoulder with a thud as it was suddenly hard to keep it level.

“But can you concentrate? I don’t think any of us know enough to help.” Joel’s voice was wrecked though he was still trying to school in his emotions, he didn’t like this, he really had no idea how to fix a bone that was broken through flesh. Surgery would be his first guess, but they were twenty years too late for that to be an option. You shoved off from him, feet scuffling as you tried to keep your balance as a flash of energy rushed through you at the sound of his voice.

“I can take care of it, just give me a damn minute!” You shouted, bringing up your good hand to rake through your loose hair. You could tell you were shaking with how spent your body was, ready to just pass out and be done feeling anything for a moment. You felt hot tears spill over your lashes in another wave, hand firm on your forehead as you tried to collect your thoughts. Ellie called out your name, making you open your eyes and look over to her.

“We just want to help. We just don’t know how and you’re shaking.” Her brow was furrowed, eyes wide as she tried to keep her arms to herself. She hoped her pleading eyes would be enough to convince you to let everyone help, you were so quick to do so for them. “I know you’re not trying to, but you’re scaring me.”

“She’s goin’ into shock.” Henry’s voice was quiet, him not wanting to impose on the already emotional situation.

You opened your mouth to retort but a particularly sharp, hot pain reverberated from where the bone was ripped through your skin, your words drowned out by a stuttering breath before your vision faded completely and you felt yourself begin to crumble where you stood.

“Shit!”

“Don’t let her land on her arm!”

“Joel, catch her!”

previous chapter || next chapter 

[whatsa-bi-as]

Pats and plasters

GN reader x park jisung

Genre; fluff

Warnings; jisung hurts himself a couple times but nothing extreme

Word count; 0.5k

Network; @kflixnet

Master list is here

Your boyfriend was an absolute idiot. Your wonderful, talented, beautiful, creative, best friend of a boyfriend was a muppet.

Being surprised with a sweet picnic date to end the summer you were so excited, that was until you remembered who you were dating. While Jisung is a wonderful person, and an even better partner, he could be a bit reckless with some of the things he did. 

Your first date ended with a ripped pair of jeans and bloody knees after Jisung decided he wanted to try and jump off a swing higher than ever before. That being said, his silliness always made wonderful memories for the both of you; that worrying ending to that first date resulted in a second one FAR away from anything that could give the same result.

His friends always made fun of him for being clumsy, Chenle always teased him about it anytime he nearly spilt a drink but you thought that it was wonderful. Dating an idol isn’t always easy but being able to see such a domestic side to him helped to put many of those doubts to rest. 

All this to say your boyfriend is an utter idiot. Knowing his streak of accidents he still decided to try and pet the cows that you had come across on your way home from such a sweet day. 

Having googled how to do it he approached the cow while you stood safely behind the fence, phone in hand ready to capture whatever outcome came of this melting pot of chaos. To both of your surprise the cow stayed calm and let Jisung pet her head, allowing you to get an adorable photo of him smiling next to her, and when he had enough of the petting he began to walk back over to you.

Giving you a kiss over the fence, Jisung was positively beaming at the fact he had managed to pet a cow! A cow! How many people could say that they had the chance to pet a cow? Not a lot but Jisung could! 

It was all perfect until Jisung tried to get over the fence. The poor boy almost forgot how tall he actually is and flipped over the top landing on his hands and knees. Dusting himself off he noticed his hands were all cut due to the rocks that littered the floor. Laughing at his own misfortune he smiled at you once again before starting on the walk back home to clean up.

Jisung was an idiot. A clumsy, tall, childish idiot. But at the end of the day that is what made him, him. Jisung was more than a beautiful idol, he had his silly moments and there were plenty of times where you had to help him deal with it. Those moments, those pieces of him are what make him so unique, they’re why you fell in love with him.

Your boyfriend is many things but the most important thing is that he is the love of your life and you wouldn't want him any other way.

[pirate-of-the-southern-isles]

Fanfic's snippet - How Hans became a pirate, part II

First part here!

Hans is telling the story of what the hell is he doing here to Anna and Elsa after three years of the events portrayed and from his own perspective, mind you.

Layla has agreed on his condition. In her own words – there is no such thing as too many men to work as deckhands. So as for the moment, they were running together towards his father’s study. Everywhere around them an utter chaos unveiled; dozens of pirates running down corridors, stealing without an ounce of shame everything that wasn’t bolted down. And if it was – some of them took crowbars. For a brief moment, Hans caught a glimpse of three of them, freakishly similar to each other, who were just peeling down the tapestry. Very, very rich tapestry. It was complicated, because there were quite a lot of screws and they seemed very wary of destroying the fabric.

But one of the most striking facts was - that almost every one of the luxurious, silver mirrors, which used to paved the walls of Westergaard’s castle, was now shattered. The result – floors were sown with a broken glass. And he was running barefoot.

“Where are our guards?!” he wondered, because, in fact, in this warzone that the fortress has become, he failed to notice even one of their soldiers. In the same time he was trying to avoid splinters, but a few of them were already up in his soles.

“Branding” Layla smiled as she jumped over some knocked pedestal. There was a very old and very expensive vase here, just a few hours ago. Now the pedestal was crashed and the vase was gone. When Lars sees it, he will probably burst into tears. In the end, he was the only one who actually cared about some old potsherds.

“What?!” the prince looked at her over his shoulder, running up the stairs.

“I am saying – there is a pirate fleet at your bay and it is destroying your supposedly well-protected castle. Pirates are loud, there is a commotion, they are probably dangerous and, well, probably completely insane to pull stunts like this – so why fight and risk your life?”.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe, well…” he stopped suddenly and tried to play a comically theatrical wonder. “Maybe because we are paying them to do so?!”

“Aye, you are…”

A further discussion was cut short, because somewhere on the outside the heavy artillery was singing again. And it was singing so strong that the place, where Hans was supposed to be now – but he wasn’t, because he preferred to be dramatical – was now one big, gaping hole in the wall. A recoil came crashing down like a wave, pushing them both at least several steps down and covering everything in plaster.

Hans, with great difficulty, but managed to collect himself. He knew that half of his body is going to be a one, big, bad bruise. If it wasn’t for the black dust from a destroyed, supposedly indestructible stone which was currently making its way into his lungs, he would have been impressed – even more than a few minutes ago, in his cell. There, the walls were much thicker. He didn’t know what kind of a cannon was that, who made it, who made the ammunition and how much did someone pay to buy it, but it was definitely worth every penny.

On the other hand, Layla just shacked the shock off like a wet dog and whisked the dust away from her hat.

“Well, your majesty, on your feet, let’s go, let’s go!” she commanded, pulling him up with one tug. It was the first time he realized that she may be not be a giant, but she is surprisingly strong.

“Please” he sighed. “You’ve found me in that cellar precisely because I’ve tried to become “majesty”, so please, don’t remind me”.

“Ah, so I remember correctly!” she giggled, going over the rubble and climbing up again. “You are that Hans from Arendelle?”.

“I suppose.” He passed by her, knowing that they are close.

And there they were, the door to the king’s office. It was closed, of course – but made of wood, and Layla’s pistol also had a good kick.

“Huh” she cringed, when she saw the inside. “I was expecting more.”

Hans has to admit, this room in no way, shape or form resembled anything fit for an aristocracy. It didn’t suit neither their family’s wealth nor the respect for the throne. In general, there was only a simple desk – out of the finest dark wood, of course – three chairs with red upholstery and, running all around the walls, floor to ceiling, big, heavy bookstands, filled with debtors, payroll and land registries. Plus, a small rug of an eastern fashion and a not-so-impressive lamp. It looked more like an office for some mediocre accountant, not a king.  

“My father likes to spend his money, but he doesn’t like to be distracted when working”. Especially by his sons, he wanted to add, but, on the second thought, decided to remain silent. He ran to one of the shelves and started to skim through some of the books. He knew the key to the main treasury is always at the king’s side. He also knew that a few years ago he – in the biggest secret, of course – made himself a new, spare one, because he didn’t feel like chasing his father around the halls every time he collected some taxes. It was funny how things turned out with time.

“There you are” he smiled, pulling it from a carefully carved hole in one of the bindings.

“You must have feel really offended by that cellar” she stated.

“Feeling offended” wasn’t really the best sentence to describe the state of Hans’s mood and spirits, but he didn’t want to think about it too much. He didn’t want to think at all at this point, because his rational side was pulling all of the alarms, warning him that he is making a mistake which may result in no way back. But the rest of his brain was in some sort of a hysterical excitement, telling him that since his situation cannot possibly become much worse than it already is - he may as well make his father’s blood boil through the veins. And escape his brothers. After all, isn’t it better to be some sort of a pushover to strangers than to his own family?

“Help me with it!” he asked Layla, moving a few other books out of the way. Something clicked behind the wood.

“No way, you must be kidding me!” the pirate’s eyes went bright. “You have a secret pass behind the bookcase?!”

“Even better, we have a treasury there!” he precised, grabbing the shelf.

She jumped next to him and they pushed it together – forward and right. The bookcase slid to the side, uncovering solid, massive doors – from the most durable iron one could find on the Isles.

“There we are, knock yourself out!” he invited, taking the heavy chain down and unlocking the padlock.

Layla grabbed a lamp from the desk and lighted the inside. Small glimmer reflected in the thousands of golden coins. The treasury, build like a well, extending from here all the way down to catacombs, was filled almost to the top.

“Holy…” she sighed. “I think I’m gonna need a bigger bag”.

“Let me be of service, lassie” said, out of the blue, a deep, manly bass from behind their backs.  

*

“And that’s how I’ve met Bernard”.

[xhanisai]

First Line Tag

Thank you for the tag @seas-of-silver !

Here are my ten latest stories and their first lines down below. Anyone who sees this post is free to make one too cos I have no idea who to tag lol. (Most of these titles are just the names of the prompts because they’re in a drabble collection and the titles I used for those are song lyrics).

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​Generational Knowledge - (Adrinette and Ladynoir)

She was all instinct and muscle memory, her mind not clearly registering with what her body was doing when she picked up the ancient artefact that the curator introduced to her class during their trip to le musée. Her ears were deaf to his inquisitive and wary questionings which soon then turned into bewildered gasps of awe and utter delight as she brought the fragile contraption to life. What was once a seemingly dull and forgotten machine was now something so much more and just absolutely magical.

Negative!!! - (Adrinette)

Adrien hadn't moved, hadn't blinked, hadn't been able to function since he saw the image on Marinette's post as he scrolled through his Instagram feed out of boredom and curiosity. . A white object with a single red line, and the caption "Negative! 😅 ". . He didn't even need to look at the hashtags to know why exactly someone would be relieved to get a negative result on a white test stick. He didn't dare to look further. His stomach lurched and his heart jumped to his throat, and he felt like he couldn't even breathe. Marinette had- had- done it with someone else. 'Not me...wait- not me?'

Healing - (Marichat)

"Owch! Hey! Ow-ow-ow! You! You did that on purpose!" The feline hero scowled at his companion with as much venom as a baby kitten, his tail swatting irritatedly against her mattress and his faux ears plastered miserably to his blond locks. Marinette simply glowered back wordlessly with enough intensity to make him shiver in fright, bandages tight in her tense hands as she continued to patch up his wounded chest.

Hurt - (Adrinette + Ladynoir)

"You...you haven't smiled all day," Adrien murmured from the hospital bed, the boy sitting up with the assistance of his beloved, sweet friend, wincing when the bandages got a little snug around the painful injury on his back and chest. He couldn't help the immense guilt that built up within him from the sight of her shattered, heartbroken expression, the girl thoroughly affected by his predicament. "Marinette...listen, it wasn't your fault-" "Yes, it was!"

Cat - (Ladynoir + Adrinette)

"Mon Chaton!? C'est toi!? You got turned into an actual chaton again!?" Ladybug groaned in defeat, tugging on her hair whilst sitting on her haunches, her companion no longer the tall, blond-haired human being and now currently a tiny, round black kitten with huge green eyes and wearing an obnoxiously large bell. "Did you do this on purpose?? Did you???" Her accusation had the puffball leap up in the air (by about two centimetres) as an outcry, shaking his head with a loud meow. His bell rang from the rapid movements as a gentle, soft chime and no one would even believe that he was the host of destruction and chaos.

Tease - (All sides of the square)

It took Chat Noir everything for his voice to not raise higher and higher in pitch as he tried his utmost best to continue the conversation, going on about his day without clueing in his civilian identity all whilst his Lady continued to watch him intently, her pretty sky blues rooted to his mouth wordlessly. Like he was a piece of a jigsaw puzzle or a lucky charm she needed to figure out as if her life and the rest of the world depended on it. The feline boy self-consciously licked his lips, internally praying to all the gods out there (that were at least an ounce more reliant than Plagg the camembert glutton) to help him keep his cool. Hopefully, his lips weren't too chapped or bruised from all the anxious lip-biting he did this morning at school from worrying over Marinette for the umpteenth time (she tripped at least thirty-six times today no thanks to her sleep deprivation! Thirty-six times!!! How many bones would she have broken if he weren't there to catch her every single time!?).

Hot - (Ladynoir)

SNAP! CRACK! CHOMP! CHOMP! SNAP! CRACK! CHOMP! CHOMP! Chat Noir continued to stare at his beloved partner with bafflement as she cracked open her fourth ginormous watermelon on her knee alone (which was hella hot) and began to vigorously devour the sweet fruit like a bottomless vacuum (which was adorable and terrifying at the same time).

Protect - (All sides of the square)

“How...how could you?"

His icy tone was laced with venom and sheer betrayal, clawed fingers digging into his trembling palms in a white-knuckled grip and teeth clenched to the point where his jaw was close to clicking out of place. "How could you, Ladybug!?"

Favourite Colour - (Adrinette)

"Pink this, pink that, ugh! Don't you like any other colour, something more regal and obviously so much more better?" One very annoyed and extremely pompous Chloé Bourgeois huffed loudly, hands dramatically gesturing towards the god-forsaken, practically neon yellow jeans she decided to wear for the day, beady blues directing a nasty glare at her sleepy enemy. Much to her ire, the girl she was glowering at simply took one glance at the blinding clothing article, made a comically disgusted expression and went back to mindlessly sketching out designs in her notebook, taking a sip of coffee from her travel mug in the process. "I saw that, Marinette Dupain-Cheng! But what should have I expected from a ridiculously stupid peasant with ridiculously no taste? Only the most elite would appreciate REAL fashion! Hmmph!"

“Miau I have your Chattention, please?” - (Marichat)

Chat Noir was bored. . There was his Lady, sewing away on the rattling machine and annotating her (absolutely GORGEOUS) designs and piecing together fabric scraps at the same time on her messy, cluttered desk, all whilst neglecting his cute, adorable self. HIM. Her CHATON. Absolutely, incredibly, stupendously ridiculous!!! . He entertained the idea of casually dropping his transformation right here and there just to see her reaction but honestly, she'd probably (definitely) boot him out of the window by reflex whilst screaming like the queen of banshees and he would end up as an unattractive splat against the dirty, Parisian floor. Siiiiiigh.

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Again, if anyone wants to do this tag game, go for it!

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

I saw that u made a post asking for prompts/just to talk about fandoms. I was meaning to send an ask when I saw it but I forgot 😭😭 heres something different for you: I'm so happy to see that you like futurama as well, that show has such a special place in my heart 😭😭 and the lack of fics (especially freela fics) is actually maddening 😤😤😤 if you want to, could you throw us some freela relationship headcanons?😳😳💖

The original girlboss and malewife! 👏👏

Fry and Leela were probably the first fictional couple I shipped, before I even knew what shipping was. I just knew I really wanted them to end up together

(The lack of fanfic is a travesty, justice for my disaster couple)

Headcanon time!

When Fry and Leela are officially engaged (y'know, without time being frozen in the process) Bender gives a rather dramatic monologue about how he can't believe Leela didn't ask his blessing. Fry's protests that he proposed go unheard. Bender demands (somewhat jokingly but mostly seriously) that Leela asks for his blessing

No, Bender does not tear up when Leela goes along with it and asks, shut up

No one's sure who cried more at the wedding: Leela's parents, or Zoidberg

They get a dog, damn it! 👏👏

They have two kids: a girl and a boy

Fry remembers how much Yancy hated his name, so while he doesn't name his son Yancy, he returns the favour and uses it as a middle name

Their daughter's middle name is Munda, after Leela's mom

The entire Planet Express crew absolutely adores these kids. Everyone has babysat and they all have very different ways of handling the kids

One time, Leela and Fry came to collect the kids to find them doing paperwork with Hermes. They actually seemed to be enjoying it

Cubert just thinks it's low-key weird that the babies whose diapers he's changing are actually his aunt and uncle

Fry tries to imagine his parents babysitting his kids and shudders in horror. He misses them and wishes every day that his parents could have met them, but letting his parents look after them could only have resulted in utter chaos

One time, someone hits on Fry in front of Leela, despite the obvious wedding rings. Everyone expects Leela to lose it and start a fight. Her usual "I'm gonna kick her ass" attitude. Instead, she surprises them all: she grabs Fry and straight up dips him in a kiss instead

Fry loves it

Fry has also surprised everyone (and horrified Hermes) by starting a fight when some drunken idiot wouldn't shut up about how "weird" Leela's eye is

Fry, drunk: "That's my girlfriend!" Kif: "Fry, that's your wife." Fry: "My wife!? Even better!"

Leela: "I wasn't that drunk last night." Amy: "You hit on Fry." Leela: "So? That's not weird, he's my husband." Amy: "You asked if he was single." Leela: "..." Amy: "You kicked over a table when he said he wasn't."

It takes Brannigan a solid year to realise Leela and Fry are married. Kif has tried to tell him, but Zapp never listened and just never noticed the rings. He nearly crashes his ship when he finally notices

What follows is a long, dramatic sob-fest about how he can't believe he wasn't invited to the wedding

He was. He just never read the invitation and tossed it

Overall, Fry and Leela are just an adorable couple. They're not all over each other in public, but they're always seen holding hands or sitting together. The amount of inside jokes they have is ridiculous. They always smile when they see each other

They are going to live a long and happy life together, so help me god

This got way longer than I anticipated, but that's what happens when you have headcanons for years 😁

[mercityart]

HEYYY!!!! Uhhh you're taking requests right? Could you do a toby x reader with a reader who has selective mutism? :DD

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa yes, absolutely!! As someone who struggles with this, 100% yes. I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you want but I am going off of what I know and experiences so if you have it too pls note it may be different from your own experiences.

Reader is gender neutral btw unless said otherwise

Ticci Toby x reader(with selective mutism)

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Why can't you hear me

Toby loves you, truly, however... In situations such as this he really doesn't know what to do. Here he was, crouched in front of you, desperately trying to figure out what you were trying to tell him, but he just couldn't grasp it.

He knows you can't help it but still he can't help but get irritated and as such he gets angry at himself, thus resulting in his tics to act out much more and acted in such a manner he seemed rude. His tone shifting to aggravation. "(Y/n)... You said you'd be ok coming here! What do you need me to do?!"

You say in silence, not willingly though. You felt like your walls were closing in, thought that the others were looking at you, judging you. You wanted to speak, honest; but every time you tried it was like your mouth just couldn't form words or sounds, as though someone's hand was lodge inside your thought, squeezing your vocal cords ever so slightly. Your heart was pounding a bit quicker. You know you promised Toby you would be ok, now here you were, unable to speak.

Tears well up in your eyes, grabbing your phone you mustered the energy to type a message and sending it to the anxious man in front of you. 'i'm sorry'. Tobias' gaze softened at this, his shoulders slumping downwards like two bags of wheat being dropped. Running a hand through his hair he tilts his head back whilst taking a few deep breathes. "It's not your fault. It's ok. Here..."

He stands and extends his hand out to you. Hesitating, you take his hand in yours, allowing him to lead you out of the cabin and into the forest outside.

Instantly it's as though a huge weight has been taken off your chest, and slowly but surely that imaginary hand begins to retreat from your throat. Carefully, Toby lifts you into the porch railing, carefully rubbing circles on your thighs, watching you intently, wishing to be sure you aren't uncomfortable with his actions.

The touch makes you tense at first but as the anxiety subsides you find yourself relaxing into him, focusing on the sound of birds and the rustle of leaves. Toby waits as long as you need, waiting for you to gain control again. This does take some time but once you feel calm and confident enough you shakily utter to Toby, "Thank you." To which he provides that sweet goofy lopsided smile of his before turning serious and full of guilt, his gaze fixated at the grass below him. "(Y/N)... I'm sorry I yelled at you... I- I know it's not your fault. I know you don't have control over it. You didn't deserve to be yelled at. I should have talked to you before bringing you to, I dunno, make a safety plan? Like, what to in that situation I guess."

Carefully and with the utmost delicasy you cup Toby's face in your hands, rubbing soft patterns on his temples with your thumbs, your fingertips tangling in his thick curly hair. Watching as he relaxed at your touch you press your forehead to his, being careful not to put your weight on him in case he accidentally headbutts you and you need to move back.

You two stayed like this for some time, simply enjoying one another's presence. Ultimately however, you had to return to the others. Knowing full well the cramped, loud cabin would return the unwanted squeeze of you vocal cords you decide to make a plan with Toby. If you need to communicate you'll text him, he may not be able to hear your voice but he can read what you have to say.

Upon returning inside you both are instantly met with chaos just as expected. Normally the cabin like home belong to Tim and Brian was very quiet and calm, however, they had decided that there should be a meeting in regards to the operator and those who opposed it but had to serve it. This invited quite a few strange and chaotic beings, the man in the floral button up being one of them, you think you remember him being called 'Habit'.

You returned to your respective spot on the couch where Brian now sat beside rubbing at his temples. You were thankful as Brian could understand your struggle in a similar way. Having earned the title of "hoodie" as somewhat of a alter ego he had developed selective mutism, though it's only because he had it growing up as well.

Toby proceeded to go about his day as normal, interacting with the others, but you could see him continuously glancing at you from time to time. He made certain no one fucked with you and your needs were met, constantly on standby in case you need anything.

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

headcanons

-Toby is extremely protective of you during the times you find yourself unable to communicate.

-Tries his best to understand your struggles but truthfully, he is smart but very ditzy making it just more confusing every time he has you explain it.

-He gets irritated with himself very easily during the times you can't speak. He wants to help you in any way but he can't understand you. He knows there's nothing much he can really do to help and he can't stand it

-literally will fetch you pen and paper, at this point he carries a little blue notepad n pen in his pocket everywhere he goes in case you need it.

-He hates that you struggle with this seeing as it's often triggered by situations that make you anxious, stressed, scared, etc. Sometimes though, if it's triggered by a positive intense emotion he can't help but baby you just a little bit. It's just so cute that you're so happy. Especially if you do the little flappy hands and bounce to express that emotion.

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thank you so much for the request, I hope this was at least halfway decent. If you want you can leave more requests. Also, you can read this on ao3 or quotev as well.

[kuphulwho]

Dimension 67

What is this? Basically, it’s a Ben 10 AU that I’ve been working on for a while now, one in which Reiny is the one who ends up with the Omnitrix. I’m going to make a series of posts on this, because putting it all in one post would make it way too long. For this post, I’m gonna start with the origin and some basics.

The Beginning

- Okay, so the first question you’ll probably ask is how something like this could’ve happened. Well, in this universe, Vilgax went in direct pursuit of the Omnitrix sooner than he did in Prime Ben’s universe. As such, the attempted delivery of the Omnitrix had to occur prematurely, without a pre-programmed wielder, meaning it would need to be hand delivered. The delivery itself was also plagued with issues. Xylene had to avoid Vilgax’s detection at practically every turn, which delayed delivery to approximately the start of OS. Even then, despite her best efforts, she was found before she could reach Earth. As a result, she had no choice jettison the Omnitrix without a specified direction and hope for the best. Unfortunately, it ended up going in the worst possible direction. Before having to take an escape pod to Earth, she was only briefly able to see that the Omnitrix’s pod was on a direct collision course for Augstaka, the home planet of the Highbreed.

- Logically, when the Omnitrix’s pod lands on Augstaka, someone had to have been made to check it out. One of those people just so happened to be Reiny. He is confused as everyone else is about the device. He believes it to be some kind of bracelet, and wonders why it would be of such significance to just be jettisoned on its own like that. He doesn’t really think much of it when he puts the device on his wrist, and concern doesn’t arise until he shows it to his superiors, which is when he and the others realize that they can’t get it off. They try everything, but it will not budge. Eventually, they’re left with no other option but to fiddle with the buttons. This is what leads the Omnitrix to transform Reiny for the first time, turning him into a Vulpimancer.

- To say that utter chaos followed would be an understatement. Reiny can’t even begin to grasp what has just happened to him, and his senses are overwhelmed by the transformation. He’s terrified of how his body feels, he isn’t used to moving on all fours, and his mind can’t wrap its head around somehow seeing and not seeing at the same time. In his panic, he causes quite the commotion. However, another Highbreed is able to grab him, toss him in a room, and lock him in.

- Before too long, Reiny changes back, but calming down is something that he is physically incapable of doing at the moment. This is when he discovers just how much of a prototype the Omnitrix really is, not having had enough time to fully iron out the bugs. Long story short, it connected with its wielder in a particularly disruptive way. Any strong emotions, especially those of the negative variety, would cause features of his transformations to crop up on him, even when not transformed. With Reiny being as big a mess as he was in that moment, things weren’t exactly looking good for him. To his peers, he was more than likely worse than a monster, nothing short of an abomination.

- There’s having your hands tied, and then there’s what happened to Reiny’s father, Orionis. For context, he was the Highbreed Supreme at the time, and the High Council deliberates in a very particular way. The opinion of the Supreme takes priority, counting as three votes. Because of this, should even one of the four High Councilors agree with the Supreme, it still counts as a majority four-to-three vote. The only way the Supreme can be overruled is if all four High Councilors disagree with them. Well, Orionis tried desperately to get the High Councilors to allow his son to be spared, but with the revelation that the device was likely the fabled Omnitrix, the one that Vilgax was seeking? They felt that keeping Reiny around was too much of a risk for Augstaka. Not only that, but the mingling of alien DNA with his own had likely “poisoned” him, showing the surveillance footage of him to prove this point. They motioned for Reiny to essentially be used as a sacrificial lamb of sorts, dumping him on Earth. Orionis begged and pleaded with them to reconsider, but not a single one relented. He was never the same after this, stepping down right after Reiny was sent away. In his place, he appointed Bamber, a family friend, the Supreme that we see in War of the Worlds.

The Basics

- Every alternate universe in Ben 10 seems to have its own color theme. This is the color motif of the Omnitrix, the eyes of the Galvan, and the default color of the Mechamorphs. In Dimension 67, this color is Tyrian purple.

- Reiny’s starting ten aliens are Wildmutt, Mole-Stache, Spidermonkey, Shocksquatch, Big Chill, Fasttrack, The Darkness, Snorecupine, Ventrilosquid, and Soulcatcher.

- Eventual unlocks include Rath, Crabtastic, Blitzwolfer, in that order. The context in which these aliens are unlocked will be in another Dimension 67 post.

- With Reiny’s aliens retaining at least a portion of his DNA, there are some noticeable deviations from the standard appearance of each of their species. For one, they noticeably large by the standards of their species, and their coloration is paler than the norm.

- Because pretty much all of Reiny’s aliens have fur, hair, or fluff in some capacity, with the aforementioned quirk of involuntary emotional partial transformations, people wouldn’t be faulted if they mistook Reiny for some kind of weird werewolf.

- Another quirk of the Dimension 67 Omnitrix, also due to its flawed nature as a prototype, is that Reiny can “clip” the traits of other transformations into the transformation that he is currently using. However, he does not discover this right away, and even after he does, it takes practice. After a while, he even learns to use his emotional partial transformations to his advantage.

- There’s this running gag where, whenever someone catches Reiny’s base form on camera, the images and videos are always either of potato quality, or have him so out of frame that you can only barely tell that something is supposed to be there. This has led him to become kind of a cryptid in a sense, with him even getting a segment on Weird World.

- Just a fun fact, but the name, “Dimension 67,” comes from the fact that Alone Together, Reiny’s debut episode, is the 67th episode of Ben 10 to air overall.

[loupalinterieur]

❝ you ever lived your whole life and find out it’s just a big lie? ❞ 

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬: name: ronan osorio nicknames: ro, thumper, onno pronouns: he/him dob: october 13 / libra species: original witch ( Le Fay bloodline ) - adopted by hunters occupation: emt paramedic / hunter ( formerly ) / marine medic ( formerly )

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: positive traits: passionate, effective, earnest, reliable, friendly, dedicated,  negative traits: reckless, headstrong, single-minded, brash, workaholic, manipulative

𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬: typical hunter abilities, combat proficiency, learned survivalist skills, expert level specialization in medicinal potions / poisons and knowledge of the wilderness, has magic but hides it due to past trauma resulting in the death of one of his unit, moderately okay tracker

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬:

ronan was an orphan longer than he was part of the osorio family, bounced around between five different foster homes, moving place to place because no one wanted someone that was considered a rule breaker with a rebellious streak. as a result he has countless foster siblings across the states until his last foster home pawned him off for a tv and five grand. he grew up alongside the other children and adopted the clan’s name as proof of his loyalty but he never really had a choice. it was survive or die. ronan always wondered what happened to his birth parents; did they care? were they dead? did they know he’d been sold to a clan full of witch hunters? when the time came for the new members of the clan to be isolated in the woods he used what little knowledge he had and tried to run. ronan never made it, he was caught quickly and settled into a routine of wake, train, earn your meal, train, sleep, repeat.

he never knew where he was born or why he was so quickly forgiven but he was raised alongside hunters in a centuries old compound. for his sixteenth birthday he was given the skulls of his birth parents by his guardian per the customs of the osorio clan. ronan was always uncertain of their teachings, ever since the first day he could use his magic. now though, he could have answers and be acknowledged as a full fledged hunter if he could commune with the bones in his possession. finally ronan could have answers. the resulting summoning only birthed more questions and the cost was the destruction of their souls as their bones turned to ash in his hands. he could never speak to them again all because he had never learned to control his powers. heartbroken, ronan fell to rock bottom and caved to the demands of the osorio clan quickly becoming a hunter himself and using his abilities to hunt his own kind. it blackened his soul but gods did it help with the grief, the utter loss.

ronan never intended to betray his clan because of the truth. but after a hunt gone too far, something broke within him and blindly he wiped out his entire hunting party. it felt good, it was easy, and he never knew why. ronan forged some documents, lied his way into proper paperwork, and wound up enlisting with the military to get as far away from magic, hunters, the supernatural, and his murky past. with the osorio clan believing he had died with the rest of his hunting party, for the first time in his life finally ronan was free. the hell of basic seemed like a vacation compared to the living hell he’d survived with those of his clan. it was there in the barracks he found the people that he would consider to be his family. for almost four years he lived and breathed that freedom amongst his newfound family without a hitch pretending to be normal. but one night his unit was ambushed on a routine scouting mission. without thinking, ronan used his magic and in the resulting chaos he killed his best friend. to the world, ronan diedrick died in the desert with the 151 in an ambush. soon after ronan would set up in los santos to start over. 

he is relatively easy to approach, but rarely will stick around long for a conversation. ronan naturally is wary of strangers and it takes time for him to open up even on a friendly platonic level. it's easier to do his job when he holds the world at arm’s length especially in a city full of supernatural creatures and violent crimes. despite all this he has yet to find a reason to throw in the towel and give up being a paramedic. part of him wants to make up for the lives lost on his watch and the other part just wants to try and save those he can save. surprising most of all is how quickly he found a partner. but who wouldn’t find history attractive? ronan is quick to deflect romantic overtures citing faithfulness but still is guilty of his own vices and consuming need to save people no matter the cost.

ronan is resolute in his work to the point it could be considered dangerously obsessive. his day job doesn’t leave him with much free time but he is guilty of indulging in some of his less than savory appetites. ronan isn’t sure what feels better; the underground fights he gets into with some of the city’s less than savory crowd or the dancers that keep him company some nights at the glass slipper. either way, he knows he probably shouldn’t indulge as much as he does but it’s hard to find a good therapist in los santos and ronan has learned through trial and error there is no one he really trusts. a lifetime of one foot out the door makes him less keen to allow himself to get attached and honestly the prospect is terrifying. once he does form genuine feelings for someone ronan is sure he won’t know what to do with himself as he’s never been in love.

work and his budding relationship keeps him busy for most of his free time and ronan likes the routine of it even if he can’t stand his job some days and how powerless he feels. ronan spends most of his free time split either at the art museum visiting his partner, roaming the streets of los santos looking for a fight that’ll pay, or visiting the dancers at the glass slipper. most weekends he ends up staying indoors, either with his partner or at his apartment in greenhaven working on a pet project for work. if you manage to find him, you might be lucky enough to coax a word or two out of him but you’ll never know if he’s lying all while being so quick to offer a smile.

[hjohn3]

The End of the Lord of Misrule

The Legacy of Boris Johnson

By Honest John

TOM PAXTON the well known left wing 1960s and 1970s American folk singer wrote a song in 1969 called The Ballad of Spiro Agnew. It referenced Richard Nixon’s Vice President, who ultimately resigned in disgrace for tax evasion. The song consisted of one eighteen second line: “I’ll sing of Spiro Agnew and all the things he’s done.” and that’s it: no more lines. It is tempting, as the two and a half years of Boris Johnson’s premiership reaches its undignified and sudden end, to attempt to reprise Paxton and to point out what an utter waste of political and governing time has been the tawdry reign of this man and his contemptible acolytes - two and a half years of broken promises, rule breaking, nasty divisive populism and utter incompetence, in which nothing of importance was achieved. But that would be to let the horror that was the Johnson regime off too lightly, to try to pretend, like the Democrats have mistakenly tried to do in the US since the eviction of Trump, that the nightmare is over and we can all simply draw a line and, in the dishonoured Johnsonian phrase, “move on”. However, that is not possible.

Let’s first of all consider the legacy Johnson claimed for himself in his self serving non-resignation speech: the alleged achievements constantly cited by the Daily Mail and the Daily Express, and parroted, drone like, by Johnson’s fans on social media, on radio phone ins, and in vox pops on the streets of the U.K. We hear continually that “Boris”:-

1. Got Brexit done;

2. Led us through the pandemic with a fast and efficient vaccine roll out;

3. Led the world in the defence of Ukraine against Russian aggression; and

4. Got the big calls right.

It’s pretty meagre pickings even if it wasn’t being put forward by a cynical right wing media that colluded every step of the way in Johnson’s misgovernance or by individual citizens apparently deluded, in denial, or both. It also doesn’t stand up to even cursory scrutiny.

The Brexit “deal” that Johnson signed in 2020 is predicted by the Office of Budgetary Responsibility to result in a 4% shrinkage of the British GDP by 2025; direct investment from abroad in the British economy fell by 17% in 2020/21; key industries such as hospitality, fruit farming and haulage continue to experience severe workforce shortages thanks to the non availability of EU labour; a just-in-time set of supply chains, perhaps permanently damaged by the Covid contraction, have seen this impact exacerbated by trade barriers put in place following Britain’s withdrawal from the EU, adding to the cost of trade and increasing inflationary pressures. The Northern Ireland Protocol is set to be scrapped by the very government that introduced it to the negotiations with the EU. The Protocol, which guarantees frictionless trade within the island of Ireland will be sacrificed and ensure a hard trade border exists between the Republic and Ulster, to the disbenefit of both. The failure of the absurd Jacob Rees-Mogg and his confected “Department for Brexit Opportunities” to identify a single measurable and uncontested benefit of Johnson’s “oven ready” deal, speaks for itself: even under its own terms, the hard Brexit Mogg and his like drove, and Johnson supposedly got “done”, has delivered nothing.

The claim that Johnson provided inspired and effective leadership during the pandemic is even more spurious. The Johnson government’s response was characterised by chaos, incompetence, failure to take scientific advice, too late lockdowns and the award of corrupt contracts for equipment and supplies to Tory donors, marking the beginning of an endemic governmental corruption that has been perhaps the overriding feature of the Johnson regime. The much vaunted vaccine roll out was indeed impressive and owed nothing, with the single exception of vaccine procurement, to the actions of government: the NHS, Public Health and the Universities stepped up to do what they do, despite ten years of systematic underfunding by a Tory government obsessed with financial austerity, which had left our health systems uniquely exposed to Covid-19. One statistic above all should give the lie to the claim that Johnson “led us through the pandemic” like some latter day Moses: 181,000 British citizens have died of the disease at the time of writing: the highest per capita death rate in the western world outside the United States. At the last, the grotesque spectacle of law breaking at the heart of government during the height of the pandemic, tells everything that needs to be known about the extent to which this government provided leadership, moral or otherwise, in the battle against the most existential crisis facing the country since the Second World War. Johnson’s response, on just about every quantifiable measure, was an utter disgrace.

Johnson as war leader was supposed to relaunch his battered premiership in the light of Partygate but always lacked credibility, not least because the U.K. was not actually at war. The supply of British weapons to Ukraine has undoubtedly assisted that country’s resistance to the Russian invasion, but was at one with an overall NATO response of support to President Zelensky’s government. Although Johnson took numerous and transparently obvious photo opportunities in Kyiv, it is clear most of Britain’s swift response to Ukraine’s calls for help was masterminded by Defence Secretary Ben Wallace, and had very little to do with Johnson himself.

“Getting the big calls right” is perhaps the most commonly cited praise for Johnson by his dwindling band of followers. It is as curious as it is tedious because it implies he got numerous “little calls” wrong which, presumably included disobeying the law, being openly corrupt, trashing the country’s unwritten constitution and breaking manifesto promises by the dozen. It is a plea for perspective and tolerance and is as mendacious as it is dim witted. This man got no calls right at all, regardless of size. Instead of leadership, the country was offered excuses, deflection and lie after lie after lie. Instead of vision, it was presented with “wedge” politics, designed to pit different sections of the community against each other, while hopefully shoring up just enough votes of the frightened, the bigoted and the wealthy to give the Tories an electoral advantage under First Past The Post. Instead of competence, we were forced to watch a cavalcade of absurd self inflicted error, of dishonesty as policy and ludicrous excuses for scandal after scandal. No excuses, however, can be made, or sympathy given to a Prime Minister unique in his cynicism, uselessness and criminality. Big calls? He failed them all.

But if Boris Johnson was simply the worst Prime Minister the country has seen in modern times, then it might be possible to rebuild respect for politics after the gargantuan task of Augean stable cleaning required by his successors, but unfortunately his legacy is too malign for that. Johnson was not just a tousled haired Clown Prince that made knowing idiots laugh, he was the Lord of Misrule in all its literal malignant meaning. The damage he has wrought may take years to put right.

For the record: this is a man who lied to the head of state in order to prorogue Parliament, an act found to have been illegal by the Supreme Court; who oversaw a manifesto promise to curtail the role of that Court as punishment for daring to challenge his unconstitutional action. This is a Prime Minister, who, by changing the rules, sought to make corruption acceptable and the ministerial code of conduct irrelevant; a premier who even in the last days of his sordid regime is willing to put peace in Northern Ireland in jeopardy to deliver its hard Brexit in full and provoke a reaction from the EU he hopes can revive the feelings of antipathy to Europe he exploited so cynically in 2016 and 2019. This is a man whose government, in its dreadful Police, Crime and Sentencing bill seeks to suppress legitimate public dissent and in its Rwanda off shoring policy plumbs new depths of immorality, law breaking and racism; a government that deliberately dabbles in proto fascism. This is a man, who in his utter disregard for the unwritten conventions that hold British democracy together has set a baleful precedent one day for a serious, competent and ideologically driven successor to take Britain down a route of democratic authoritarianism.

There is nothing remotely funny or admirable about this Lord of Misrule or the nodding dogs who have sustained him, several of whom are now lining up to replace their one time hero, citing integrity and values they never once upheld when serving in his cabinet. The experience of Boris Johnson’s premiership has laid bare the frailty of the UK’s constitution and revealed deep societal divisions driven by a broken economic model, a ruinous class system and an inequality so deeply ingrained it is quite literally strangling the nation. However, if the country’s recent awful descent into absurdity and amorality achieves one good thing, it will be the determination of the non Tory majority of the U.K. to expel Johnson’s remnants, continuity candidates and apologists from power and to rebuild the sense of pride, decency and honesty, which, in the past, has driven this country’s greatest political achievements.

9th July 2022

With thanks to Val Michej for her passionate denouncement of Johnson’s resignation speech, which contributed to this piece

[mcmoth]

The thing that makes Dream SMP so horrific isn't the sheer scale of it's angst. There have been children's shows with a bigger death toll by thousands and even millions, like Steven Universe with it's themes of breaking free from an exploitative system through war that showcased suffering spanning galaxies wide, or Adventure time where it's entire basis of history is that their world is the remnants of an apocalypse, or as with Gravity Falls, where the whole fabric of reality would have been transformed to a nightmare if it hadn't been for the bonds between one rag tag family, etc. No, the pain in Dream SMP isn't grand, and that makes it all the more difficult to stomach.

Because instead of the main villain being some chaos entity from space that slaughtered numerous lives, it's that friend that acted like an older brother and laughed over the most stupid of jokes and fought with you over the most useless, mundane of things, before he turned around and started slipping further and further into his god complex until the only thing he lived for anymore was the enjoyment and fascination he took in your suffering.

And that authority figure you need to take down for their unethical management of the system is not some lackey or world leader who you only know by their title and evil deeds, no, it's that man that gave everyone pumpkin pie and promised you he could give you a home when everyone else had left you in the dirt and who told you how sad he was to see you frown and giggled over your valentines confession and created a whole sentient machine to help you combat your mental health struggles and build you a place where you could actually feel safe, only for him to fall to repeating the same torturous abuse on others that he swore he would protect them from.

Oh, and that otherworldly entity, beyond the veil of your mortal world, that wishes you to join them in their eternal game outside your reality, that knows the secrets of the universe, including it's end? What if that was once just your brother that played guitar, and your father that smothered you in affection, and your leader that tried to lead your close knit group to freedom and prosperity with diplomatic words, and stood as bait in the range of fire, unprotected, when it came to battle, and cried under closed doors when the speeches were done and all that was left was to lie face first into a pillow. Slowly, painfully, drifting away from his goal, from hope, as he let go of that vision and self destructed in his paranoia and pain, taking you all down with him. Dying with the conviction that the only thing he ever brought, and could bring, was suffering.

So it doesn't matter that the wars that they went through only featured a dozen people at most, because while there was no big, inconceivable number of the lives lost, the despair and utter loss of hope, and anger, grief, that the few people we follow displayed at the end of it, was enough to tell the story. And it doesn't matter that the exile arc only lasted about a week in our time, because while it didn't last years for the character like it could have in any other story, the plain and so unapologetically explicit depiction of abuse we sat through watching all 11 of those days was enough to leave us shaken to our core. And it doesn't matter that the possession esque plot in Ranboo's story is never actually fully displayed, never actually results in anything too grotesque or alien, just some property damage, because the horror in Ranboo's voice and his detailed monologues as realizations keep piling up about the following pain that has resulted from it, the fear and uncertainty of himself, his own mind, and all the implications, are enough to make us cry.

Because, in the end, there doesn't need to be some big, cinematic, world wide tragedy to make us believe this is serious, to make us scream at the unfairness of it all. There just needs to be the intimate, and horrifying realization, that in this story, the ones closest to us are the ones who can actually hurt us the most.