#this is roughly equivalent to the relationship i have with **** *******
nekropsii · 8 months
More Reminders:
Karkat is a bootlicker. This is a prominent character trait. He’s rooting for the Alternian empire- yes, even though it’s ruled by a system that wants him personally dead- and really wants to be a part of its military.
Eridan has a “genocide complex” and is able to be roughly described as the troll equivalent of a white supremacist. This is one of the first things we learn about him.
The Beta Trolls are 13. All of them. This includes Equius. This includes Eridan. This includes Vriska. This includes Gamzee.
99% of Gamzee’s character is racial caricature. No, he is not intended to be a Dionysus parallel. He is intended to be a “satirization” of Black people.
Sapphic pairings have always held precedent over MLM pairings. They’ve always been more important to the plot, been handled with much more grace, and had more screen time. This isn’t a bad thing.
Doc Scratch is a child predator. This is an incredibly prominent character trait of his, and you’re way past due for a reread if you’ve forgotten. He has a particular fixation on, as canon puts it, “little girls”, and targets both Rose and Kanaya. Do I even have to bring up what he did to Damara?
Regarding the previous point, Rose and Kanaya both get very traumatized during the course of Homestuck’s story. They’re not well put together sophisticated “mom friends”, they’re 13 year olds just like almost everyone else is, and they’re going through hell. Rose in particular makes the effect all of this trauma has on her very well known. This is what Grimdarkness is.
Cronus is a child predator, too. During the course of the Openbounds and Ministrife, we see him unabashedly predate on three specific kids, and this behavior is made out to be extremely creepy. These three kids are Karkat, Tavros, and, yes, Eridan.
The Exiles were incredibly important to the plot, actually. You guys are just mean.
Almost every relationship in Homestuck is flawed in some capacity, that’s the point of a tragic drama. The main cast is literally nothing but traumatized and/or mentally ill 13-16 year olds. A good chunk of them aren’t even socialized, or grew up in an actively hostile environment. Or both. No shit characters mess up sometimes, or have unhealthy behaviors- it’s just natural in that situation. Some dynamics are substantially more healthy than others, but the main appeal of Homestuck is that everyone is flawed and damaged.
A good majority of Vriscourse was just people leaping at the opportunity to express pure, unabashed misogyny. I don’t think I have to elaborate upon this.
No, Jane is not a fascist, nor is she racist. She’s never been either of these things, that’s something that was invented out of left field by the Post Canon writing team. Being a fascistic racist was never within the scope of Jane’s character. No, it being “a result of her having grown up being fed propaganda by The Condesce” does not explain that plot thread in Post Canon for a single second, because Jane experiencing a major personality shift because of HIC literally already happened in canon with her going Crockertier, and she came out of that a stronger person. Never once has “racism” been on the list of problems she has.
Hemoloyalty is not intended to be a 1:1 metaphor for racism, nor is it intended to be a 1:1 metaphor for classism, or any other type of oppression. It’s not a 1:1 metaphor for literally anything, it’s intended to be flexible and contextual. This is not a bad thing, and is, in fact, a common storytelling method used by a lot of fantasy/sci-fi writers. Condemning Hussie for a lot of things in their writing is valid, but Hemoloyalty not being strictly analogous to only one type of real world oppression is patently not one of them. You do not know how metaphors work.
Official =/= Canon. No one is calling Pesterquest canon. You really shouldn’t be doing the same for Post Canon. The Homestuck Epilogues and Homestuck^2 are Official, but they are definitively not Canon. This is literally the first thing you learn about either of these projects. This doesn’t invalidate anyone’s enjoyment of any of these properties, of course, but it has to be stressed: Official does not automatically mean Canon.
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rhinexstone · 24 days
So Spock passes away at 161
And Spock was roughly 29 when he met Jim for the first time.
Jim went missing (nexus bs) when he was roughly 62
That’s only 33 years together
He didn’t know of Jim for 18% of his lifetime
Then he knows him for 20%
And had to live without him for another 62%
I don’t know if he could feel Kirk through their bond, but I hope he did. If so, then that bumps things up to only 12% of his life without Jim. But still, Spock had well over half his life left when Jim died, whether he knew how long his life would be or not.
To Jim, over half his life was spent with Spock. Yes, he had to grieve his death, but less than a month later Spock came back. Spock recovered from his condition, and after that, despite his worry, he always knew he wouldn’t have to think about life without Spock.
But for Spock, his entire relationship with Jim, every stage of it, only takes up a fifth of his life. Their love, their dynamic, their bond is just a moment. To a human, the equivalent would be knowing someone for roughly 12 years total.
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zhongvenbrainrot · 2 months
Venti and Zhongli have a bond that can only be formed from committing war crimes and multiple atrocities against humanity together.
After going through the Archon war and watching/actively participating in the eternal imprisonment and/or murder of most gods until there were only a handful left: wow I’m so glad we’ll never have to contribute to such a mass slaughter ever again.
Roughly 2,500 years later, in Khaenri’ah: oh no
You cannot tell me that wouldn’t create the weirdest relationship ever from an outsiders perspective.
Zhongli pulls Venti away from some asshole who keeps trying to hit on Venti and isn’t taking no for an answer. Everyone watching commends him because he’s watching out for his partner, but Zhongli doesn’t get why. Because in reality Zhongli’s seen Venti decapitate someone for the same reason a few hundred years ago and he really just didn’t want to have to clean blood out of his jacket.
If you ask him about weapons Venti is surprisingly extremely knowledgeable. People assume despite his looks he must be extremely familiar in wielding each of the weapons talked about. But the actual only reason he knows all of it is because during periods of war Zhongli would drone on for hours about different benefits of each weapon an their subtypes for different kinds of battle.
They have each thrown entire mountains/typhoons at each other not as threats or genuine attempt to hurt each other. More so because they’re both multiple millennium old gods and that’s just their equivalent of play fighting.
When they’re together They’ll casually mention something about the archon war, to people that know who they are, like it wasn’t even a big deal. And the people they were talking to have to reevaluate their entire image of the two they made in their head because whatever the most sadistic thing they could think of couldn’t even compare to what the two just admitted to.
I don’t know I just think people should play with the fact these two are VERY old and literal gods who’ve witnessed most of Tevyats history and development more
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notfreetoday · 6 days
MPW: Segasaki & Yoh - Language Analysis Part 1
Subtitle Corrections: EP 1 || EP 2 || EP 3
My Personal Weatherman is a story about the relationship between Segasaki and Yoh, so rather than being introduced to the characters, we the audience are dropped right into the middle of their relationship, and the only way we learn about the characters as individuals is through the way they interact with each other, and how that contrasts with how they interact with the people around them.
The show does an incredible job of keeping the portrayal of their relationship consistent across the use of character design, wardrobe, lighting, cinematography, acting choice, directorial choices and of course language use. But not everyone who watches has equal access to that last one, so I try to be as detailed as possible in my subtitle corrections posts. I'm also a bit of a language nerd. Now, I want to get into their actual relationship, because I think there is a lot of information about how they feel towards each other that's just getting missed. Also I love them and this is how I spazz.
This post is the first of four in which I hope to show how the dynamic between Segasaki and Yoh is reflected in the way they speak - specifically, in the way they address each other, and the style shifting, or speech level shifts that they both demonstrate with each other, using scenes from Ep 1 - 3. I'll be using my own translations for this, some of which differ from the Eng subs. (Please bear with the nerdiness - I don't want to assume how much people know about Japanese)
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Prefacing this by saying that this language analysis is made specifically in the context of Segasaki and Yoh's relationship. There is a power imbalance here both in terms of social hierarchy (senpai/kouhai, age gap, successful/non-successful) as well as self-image (self-confident/self-conscious). Now, most of the time we see this manifested linguistically as the party with more social power using casual language forms, whilst the one with less power remains polite or formal. However, there is much more to human interaction than that, as we see in MPW where both Segasaki and Yoh shift in and out of Speech Styles often, depending on what they want to say and accomplish, as well as their emotional state.
1) Quick & Dirty Guide To Speech Styles/Formality Levels
Formality/Politeness is a spectrum and is expressed mostly through grammar and tone (sorry for the shitty word doc screencap):
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1) desu/masu = formal/polite. Standard go to with the anyone you meet. 2) Generally speaking, the longer the sentence/the more syllables you hear, the more polite the sentence 3) The less direct you can be, the more polite you will sound 4) Word contractions (tsuzukereba -> tsuzukerya) = informal + impolite (but not always rude) 5) Slurred end vowels (iranai -> iranee) = informal + mostly rude, but not always (you just sound uncouth) 6) Most words have "formal", "informal" or even "rude" variations 7) CONTEXT DETERMINES EVERYTHING Btw when I say "speaks roughly" or uses "rough speech", I mostly mean (4) + (5)
2) Speech Styles and Shifting Between Them
tl;dr Japanese Speech Styles function like the verbal equivalent of personal space - the more formal/polite the level, the bigger the circle of personal space you maintain. Shifts in speech styles indicate: 1) perceived changes in vertical and/or horizontal distance 2) the assumption of a position/role of the speaker in relation to the listener 3) changes in emotional state/the desire to convey emotion 4) the consideration of "polite company" In this post we will look at examples of the first one - Vertical and Horizontal Distance.
Speech Styles: The Long Version (English Speaker POV)
Consider the way you speak if you were to say, give an important presentation in front of potential clients, versus the way you'd speak to an acquaintance you ran into on the street vs the way you'd speak to your closest friends. Different situations call for different ways of speaking - you're more likely to speak in full sentences and pronounce your words clearly for the first situation, and say "yes" instead of "yep" or "uh huh". You're also more likely to be blunt/direct with your friends than you are with clients - "You know ILU but do not under any circumstances buy that ugly ass shirt".
These context-dependent changes in speech patterns are similar to the changes in speech styles/formality levels in Japanese. Think of speech styles as the verbal equivalent of personal space. The more formal/polite the level, the bigger the circle of personal space you maintain. Dropping a level when you shouldn't is the verbal equivalent of invading someone's personal space and can make people uncomfortable and sometimes even angry. In Japan, the baseline "distance" with the average person is the way you would speak as if you were giving a presentation. Dropping to casual/informal speech might be tolerated (just like how you can tolerate someone sitting close to you and asking some questions, but it's uncomfortable), especially if you guys are around the same age, but dropping to "what's up bitcheees" when you should be at "hey how're you doing" basically tells the other person "I don't have even the basic level of respect for you".
In the same vein, the closer you are to someone, the more welcome you are in their personal space, and thus the lower the level of formality/politeness you'll keep with them. You trust that even if you speak bluntly, they'll understand you aren't trying to insult them. When and to what extent you drop a level is usually negotiated between individuals (either directly or indirectly). Once a level of casualness is established, your friends are going to look at you funny if you suddenly get all formal with them. They might even come ask if anything's wrong, or if you're angry at them or why you sound "cold". These shifts in speech levels therefore mark more than just the vertical distance between two people (ie, differences in social hierachy), they mark the horizontal distance (ie, how close people of the same "in-group" are to each other) too.
Having said that, there are times when you will shift to a more formal tone even with your friends or family - for example, when you're hosting a game at a large party and want to explain the game rules to everyone, you might enunciate your words better or keep the jokes to the minimum in order to convey the information is clearly and efficiently as possible. Similarly, if you've been appointed the leader in a group project and need people to pay attention and listen, you might change your tone of voice to command attention. In other words, when you assume a particular position, the way you speak changes too.
Finally, the way you speak to your friends/family in the presence of others (or "polite company", as they used to say) might also change - you might have no qualms cursing up a storm with your best buddy at the bar, but you might do your best to avoid being too vulgar when you're in front of their parents or your boss/university professor.
3) Segasaki and Yoh: Vertical & Horizontal Distance
Segasaki and Yoh are part of the same "in-group" in that they are in a relationship, so the horizontal distance between them is very small and before sunny days it's a negative distance - this is shown in how both Segasaki and Yoh use informal speech with each other (they generally omit the desu/masu forms aka use plain forms, and both use the informal pronoun "俺/ore" for "I" with each other).
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That said, there is also a hierarchy within that relationship (though their individual perceptions of that vertical distance differs) which stems not only from the nature of their living agreement, but also is likely to have carried over from their university days, when they shared a senior/junior relationship. Thus, generally speaking, Segasaki speaks quite roughly with Yoh whilst Yoh tends to use polite forms more often. Keep in mind however, that Japanese is a gendered language, and "rough speech" tends to be seen as a masculine speech pattern and can sometimes be normal between close male friends/family (otherwise, it is the verbal equivalent of getting up in someone's face and pushing them). The key here is that Yoh sticks to an informal, but more polite level than Segasaki does, and it is that difference that shows the power differential.
Horizontal Distance aka "We're Very Close"
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Despite Yoh's very valid complaint that Segasaki takes "man-of-few-words" to the next level (itself a liberty you'd only take with someone close to you), Segasaki only drops to rude forms in Ep 1 once:
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晩飯いらねぇ(banmeshi iranee) - slurred vowel [literally - "dinner, not needed"] Banmeshi is a more informal way of saying dinner (normal = yuu gohan). Despite the slurred vowel, this sentence is not dismissive nor rude - it's what you'd expect between close friends/family.
In Ep 2 we hear Segasaki speak a lot more roughly to Yoh, as below, and of course during the almost-argument. But though his words are rough his intonation is often soft and he's quite tender with his touch. So, we can see that Segasaki isn't being disrespectful per se - he's not speaking roughly because he sees Yoh as beneath him in the social hierarchy - rather, he's demonstrating intimacy, familiarity and possessiveness, all at once. In fact, the more possessive he feels of Yoh, the more he drops his levels. As mentioned earlier, you only do this with people in your "in-group", with whom you know will understand you aren't insulting them.
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遅くなるからいらねぇっつっただろう (osokunaru kara iranee ttsutta darou) - slurred vowel, word contraction, informal end particle [I told you I wouldn't need it cause I'd be late right?] Though somewhat in keeping with Segaski's curtness, this is still a pretty harsh sounding line - but note how Yoh doesn't seem offended or intimidated in the slightest - he understands that Segasaki is tired after a long day, and in return Segasaki softens his tone when he next asks "What did you make?"
Vertical Distance
It's easy to focus on Segasaki's use of rough, assertive langauge as an indicator of vertical distance, and I pointed out quite a few scenes in Ep 3 where he ends off what is essentially an order with assertive sentence-final particles. But focusing on this alone gives the mistaken impression that relationships with vertical distance go one way only - down - when in fact they are bidirectional. There is a mutual dependency between both parties, as we see clearly in MPW. Linguistically, this is portrayed through Yoh's choices to shift up a speech level.
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Just like how Segasaki is introduced to the audience through his proposal direct, informal and very forceful speech style, the first interaction we see Yoh have with Segasaki is a proper, standard greeting:
おかえりなさい (okaerinasai) [Welcome back] Okaerinasai is the full, proper way to say this, but a more casual and common way to say this would simply be "okaeri". See Ep 3 for discussion on standard greetings.
When Yoh thinks about Segasaki in his head, he often uses rough speech the same way Segasaki does, including the rude pronouns "aitsu/koitsu (that guy/this guy)", and yet when he speaks directly to Segasaki, he maintains an informal but still polite/neutral speech style. He rarely shifts down to rude forms, barely coming close even when drunk and emotional, but he does often switch up to a more polite level. In the above example, Yoh uses the full standard greeting in response to Segasaki's unspoken request:
俺、帰ってるんだけど (ore, kaetterun dakedo) [I've already come back, you know] Ending with "dakedo" implies that speaker is going to follow up with something, usually a request or a question. In Japanese, this request/question is often left out, because the context given prior to "dakedo" is usually enough for the listener to fill in the gaps themselves. In this case, Segasaki might want a greeting or dinner, but at the very least, it's clear he wants Yoh's attention.
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We know the standard greeting earlier was a style shift upwards because later in the episode, when Yoh says good night, he uses the casual version "oyasumi" instead of the full "oyasuminasai".
Even outside of standard phrases, Yoh's baseline is informal but not rude:
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あ、いま準備する (Ah, ima junbi suru) - plain form [Ah, I'll prepare it now]
Probably the most telling is in Ep 3, when he's caught off guard whilst folding laundry.
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あ、なに? (Ah, nani?) - plain form [Oh! What?] He answers Segasaki naturally, with just a word, as opposed to a proper “Hai/Yes?”, which he’s done sometimes when he’s unsure of himself, or if he's addressed directly.
So, we've established that Yoh’s baseline with Segasaki is informal but not rude - he feels comfortable enough with Segasaki to default to casual speech, but he acknowledges the power differential between them by simultaneously accepting Segasaki's rough speech as well as not dropping to it himself. This also tells us that the shifts up to formal/polite speech are deliberate and mean something. In EP 2, the shift demonstrated his insecurity surrounding his jealousy and their lack of physical affection, whereas in EP 3, he does it as a way to convey his gratitude.
In the next part, we'll look at how both Segasaki and Yoh use speech style shifts to convey emotion as well as to assume a particular position. Hope you enjoyed this!
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muzansfangs · 6 days
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Starring: Douma x f!reader;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, modern au, kind of gang au, criminal Douma, corruption kink, use of alcohol, dirty talk, language, choking, breeding kink, small age gap, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers dynamics, kind of toxic relationship, dacryphilia, dom!Douma, sub!reader, vaginal sex, slight manipulative behavior, unprotected sex;
Plot: you should have not fallen for him, the devil himself, the handsome hitman of Muzan Kibutsuji. His charming personality, however, had you wrapped around his finger effortlessly. Sometimes, when you blabbed out some reserved informations of your gang to him, you felt how he was taking advantage of what you two had. All it took for him to calm you down, though, were his sugarcoated words and the promise you were his only one.
Track: Babydoll — Ari Abdul: “When I meet your eyes, the devil, he wins”.
Same old story. A bottle of saké on the coffee table, his red button down clutched into your hands, his multicolored hues boring into yours as you sat on his lap. You wanted to stop this, but you could not.
His lips curled up into his trademark smirk, his long-dark eyelashes contrasting with his pale complexion and the variety of shimmering colors mixed in his irises, as he ran his thumb over your lower lip.
If you did not know him, you would have said he was a gift from the gods. However, Douma was a gift from the haunts of Hell.
You knew you should have not even allowed him to approach you that night at the bar. You were not clueless, his identity and his reputation were well-known. But he was enticing. You were alone, dealing with a break-up, feeling like the ground was shaking under your feet. He was a little bit older than you, three years, but they had granted him enough experience to deceive you. You were fragile in that moment and he knew it.
That time had long gone, however. Months had passed by and you had fully recovered. Staying by his side now, letting yourself being ruined by him over and over again, was your choice.
“You’ve been so helpful for me, darling. I wonder how I can reward you for your sacrifice” Douma chimed, forcing his thumb into your mouth and pressing the pad of his finger onto your tongue.
His actions were laced with lewd intentions, his words creeping under your skin.
He had mentioned a ‘sacrifice’. Of course, he had. He knew that what you were doing for him was the equivalent of killing the good and loyal part of yourself that would have given up on anything just to make the people you cared about happy. What were you doing for them now? You were stabbing them on their backs, spitting on their faces, putting their lives in danger, for the sake of a toxic and secret relationship with him.
As his thumb entered your warm mouth, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut only not to let tears spill out of your eyes. He knew what his words did to you.
His dirty talk made your panties sticky, but the way he never failed to remind you of what you were doing for him, for a criminal, for the man who easily manipulated you and played with your heart like a guitarist played with the strings of a guitar, well, it broke your heart.
Your lower lip quivered and a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“Ah, I’m sorry, baby. — he whispered, slowly removing his thumb from your mouth and grasping your jaw roughly — Look at me” he added, his voice velvet but still firm.
A command. One of the many he gave you, when he was about to watch you crumble in his arms. You slowly lifted your lids, letting your teary eyes meet his ones. In his shining ones, you could see two small versions of you. But you could read two identical words too: betrayal.
A sob escaped your lips, your shoulders shaking and a grin crossed Douma’s face. There it was, your fragile part. Your tears falling from your lashes, your mascara drawing patters on your cheeks that resembled brenches of a leafless tree, made him lose his cool. You could feel his cock underneath you twitch, you could see the way he enjoyed your whimpers.
Depraved, he was depraved.
“You’re so beautiful like this. — he purred, wrapping his hand around your throat and slipping the other one between your thighs, tugging your thong to the side — Bearing a baby into your tummy. Your womb swollen, my baby growing into you” he said, his voice dripping desire and lust.
“Douma…” you whispered, as his deft fingers plunged into you effortlessly.
“Tsk, you’re dripping… Can you hear it? The lewd sounds of your cunt yearning for more, waiting for me to fill you up. Can you hear them, love?” he hoarsely said, involving you into a fervent kiss.
A moan, another one, this time louder, erupted from your throat as his slender fingers searched for that spongy spot that made you squeal out in ecstasy for him. It did not take long for him to find it. He knew you like the back of his hand, your body was like a piece of paper for him to write on.
“Ah, chant for me, baby. Sing for me, sing because you’re my only one” he whispered, his grip on your neck tightening significantly as you gasped for air.
Your eyes widened, your inner walls clamping onto his fingers as he pinned you down onto the couch, underneath him.
Your toes curled, as you lolled your head back in pleasure. The gultiness, the shame you felt for the way you let him manhandle you, for your morals bending only to stick by his side when the sun set, they were all gone. He stripped you out of your sanity, his sinful hands breaking the sheer of pride you loved to show off in public.
You felt his fingers leaving your core, the hand around your neck following suit, as he unbuckled his belt and hastily unzipped his pants. He needed you. He wanted to ruin your innocence again. It was never enough.
“I promise, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll leave this place slithering around like a viper. My pretty, little viper” he crooned, spreading your legs wide before hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his tight boxers and pulling them down his thighs.
The sight of your essence leaking out of you for his previous actions made him let out a moan of anticipation, while your cheeks heated out for the predatory look plastered over his angelic face.
You were glad he had streatched you out properly. His shaft was not exactly easy to adjust to. As long as he loved seeing tears stream down your face, he wanted you to enjoy the way he messed up your insides. It had to feel good for you too.
“Tell me that you love me” he said then, hovering over you and resting your legs on the top of his broad shoulders. His fingers dug onto the plush of your thighs, earning a soft whimper from you as his tip started to tease your entrance.
“I love you. You know how much I love you…” you breathed out, arching your back in hope to get some friction from the spot where your intimacies met.
Douma chuckled, his teeth grazing the tender flesh of your neck as he shoved himself into you slowly, making sure you could feel every inch of him exploring your warm channel. He surely was vocal, he had always been. A long, strained moan left his lips as he bottomed out and your cry of pleasure echoed into the luxurious living room of his house.
Your breaths mixed, his thrusts hard and steady as you ran your fingers through his long, silky and silvery hair.
Douma was too handsome to be a devil. Then again, as he made you reach your climax, whispering sinful words into your ear, making sure his thrusts hit your g-spot, you were reminded of that fallen angel. He was an angel, in the end, you were right.
Douma was God’s favorite, he was Lucifer. Therefore, as he released into you, moaning into your mouth as his tongue dominated yours, you were ready to let him drag you to hell with him.
“Yeah, I definitely love you” you murmured, panting as you stared at the ceiling above you, his body still pressed against yours.
Sinning never felt that good.
TAGS: @doumadono @doumaslotus @mrskokushibo @misaki-the-lotusflower @flakeygod @cyberdazetragedy
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telomeke · 7 months
I saw a couple of posts on here about how Jim and Li Ming sensibly stepped back from their confrontation in Ep.4 [1I4], and I do agree that both parties were able to regain control of themselves and defuse the heat of the moment at least in part because of the underlying bond that they share (almost like that of father and son).
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But what I think may not be apparent to most non-Thais is just how close to the brink of disaster this moment was for their relationship. When we saw the usually phlegmatic Jim flash with uncharacteristic anger in the face of Li Ming's rage, it was actually almost a point of no return.
Building up to this confrontation, we'd often seen Li Ming sullen, sulky and sarcastic with his uncle. There were always moments when his simmering exasperation bubbled over into words and actions, but these were usually brief, and Jim's reaction to them would typically be a form of calm but troubled sadness, some admonition perhaps, but never really anger.
This scene was different. It's notable because of Li Ming's hugely overt, extended display of hot-headedness, beginning at Ep.4 [1I4] 12.21. This was a show of escalating emotion, that exploded into incandescent rage at Ep.4 [1I4] 13.52 (with little Li Ming roaring his fury inches from Jim's face, even throwing in the shockingly vulgar เหี้ย/hia, quite the Thai equivalent of f**k).
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I think it was to some extent understandable – to Li Ming, a teen on the cusp of manhood, chancing upon Jim poking around his belongings must have been an unforgiveable betrayal of trust. And it lit the fuse on his keg of already-seething frustrations.
But in Thai culture, one of the absolute worst things you can do in a social situation is to lose your temper at someone. Not only is it seen as a terrible loss of face for you, it also means the other party loses face as well and it is enormously insulting to them, almost like a violation of the self. (Some links here if you'd like to read more: Don't Lose Your Temper, Losing Your Temper in Thailand Will Make You a Loser, and Jai Yen – Don’t Lose Your Temper.)
I've actually seen this blow up in a (naïve) colleague's face once, when we were in Bangkok on a work trip. He angrily raised his voice at our tuk-tuk driver, who up until then was smilingly but quite pushily trying to divert us to a different destination (one that would give him a commission if he brought in some gullible tourists, we later found out). All of a sudden the driver's smile vanished, and his pleasant-enough (if somewhat smarmy) demeanor was replaced by one of abject fury. I was convinced we would soon find ourselves in a fistfight, but luckily all that happened was that we were roughly ejected from the vehicle and abandoned in the street.
It's important to remember that Thai culture has time-honored rules regarding social engagement, and foreigners who are not used to Thai ways may mistake the formal pleasantries on the surface as indicative of submissiveness, weakness or pliability – but they are not. Likewise, people from more voluble cultures may not realize how offensive their behavior can seem to Thais – it is absolutely not the Thai way to use aggression in negotiation; in the wrong situations you may find yourself quite literally getting knifed because it's almost like an invitation to battle.
In Li Ming's case, it's not just that he'd committed the ultimate faux pas of forsaking the prized jai yen (ใจเย็น, meaning coolness of heart) in his exchange of words with Jim. His blatant show of disrespect to an elder of his own family was akin to a violent slap in Jim's face, given how much importance is given to seniority and hierarchy in Thai culture (which is what the various honorifics and forms of address are all about – there is immense emphasis placed on recognizing and respecting those who have come before you, especially within the family). Li Ming's lack of self-control was striking at a very core tenet of Thai culture, and this was the breaking point that caused the normally placid and patient Jim to react with his own lightning bolt of anger.
Basically, his raised finger and exhortation "Don't you raise your voice at me" at Ep.4 [1I4] 13.58 – with his lips curled in anger and disgust – were a last warning to Li Ming that he was crossing an uncrossable line, whose significance is deeply ingrained in Thai culture and family relations.
Luckily Jim's flash of emotion managed to jolt Li Ming out from the blindness of his rage. Remembering where he was, especially his place in relation to his uncle, he deflated and reacted as appropriately as he could – and what he did then was to retreat into cultural norms (for Jim's reminder was as much about broader culture and tradition as it was about interpersonal respect). Li Ming's deferential wai was an immediate apology not just from a junior to his elder, but also for his deeply offensive transgression of cultural traditions.
But Li Ming wasn't done. He might have backed down, but he wasn't fully backing off in this battle of wills. Maintaining the cool-headedness that is so highly-valued in Thailand, in a calmly defiant tone somehow also imbued with sadness, he reminded Jim of how his own thwarted happiness, in a life marked by impoverished desperation, was not a blueprint he wanted to follow.
And the plaintive despairing pride of Li Ming's words certainly burned more corrosively than any show of anger could – for Jim could only react with wordless tears.
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Later in the episode we do see them healing their relationship (at the surprise birthday party for Jim) and I think it's testament to the bond they've always had that they were able to overcome this moment of rupture, even if some hurts and frustrations still remained embedded (sure to resurface again).
But in the moment, the confrontation of Ep.4 [1I4] allowed us a searing glimpse at the hidden currents turbulently coursing below the surface of Jim and Li Ming's relationship. And I only have kudos for Fourth and Earth, who managed to deliver some of the flintiest, hardest-hitting lines in Moonlight Chicken thus far, flitting through variously heated emotions, without ever letting us forget – not even once – the humanity and sadness underlying all of that weariness and anger. 😢
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theinquisitxor · 6 months
A Day of Fallen Night mild spoilers:
I want to talk about Wulf and his pov + Old English Literature.
What we know:
The Kingdom of Hroth is largely a Scandinavian/Nordic inspired country.
In Priory, Inys is roughly equivalent to the English Elizabethan/Tudor era (the 1450s- 1500s). Fallen Night takes place 500 years prior. What era was England in in the early 1000s? The (end of) the Anglo-Saxon era.
While Inys during Fallen Night is definitely not set in an Anglo-Saxon era, I feel like there are definite motifs and similarities. The Hrothi used to raid Inys, but stopped after the marriage of Sabran and Barholdt. Wulf uses a saxe knife. The fens and monsters resemble those of Old English epics.
Aside the Anglo-Saxon & Scandinavian influences, I want to talk about the references to Old English literature:
Firstly, Samatha Shannon introduces Part 3 with a quote from the Old English (fragmented) poem, Wulf and Eadwacer.
it is:
wulf is on iege, ic on oþerre. / fæst is þæt eglond, fenne biworpen… / Ungelice is us
This roughly translates to: Wulf is on one island. I am on another. Fast is that island set among the fens....We are apart.
Now, Wulf and Eadwacer is a notoriously difficult poem to translate and make sense of, for those of us who have studied Old English. It appears to be from the pov of a woman lamenting over the separation of a male person she loves (typically interpreted as a husband/lover, but it doesn't have to be) referencing an on-going violent event in the background. And! there a line about a child being left in the woods with a wolf.
But I think Shannon does something so neat here and she changes the meaning to fit for Tunuva and Wulf, and bases so much of Tunuva and Wulf's relationship/story on this small poem fragment!!
Secondly, during a titular scene with Wulf washing up on a beach, Wulf is called the seafarer. "By dawn, the lights had disappeared, and the seafarer was still alive" (pg 396). This is obviously a direct call to the Old English poem, The Seafarer. It's a melancholic, elegiac poem concerned with life and death, about a seafarer on a cold, wintery beach mourning the loss of his comrades. Sound familiar?
I just love this little attention to detail concerning Wulf and Fallen Night. Samantha Shannon is a brilliant, brilliant woman
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universitypenguin · 7 months
Aliceeeeee what do u think our Lloyd and princess would do for v-day? 💓💓 Would they actually celebrate with each other 🙊👀
Lloyd Hansen & the Valentine’s Day Campaign
Summary: Determined to top the efforts of any previous boyfriends Princess has celebrated Valentine’s Day with in the past, Lloyd launches a campaign of romance.
Word Count: roughly 1,900
Author’s Note: I loved this ask because I haven’t written anything that’s pure fluff in a while. Lloyd was so cute in this short story. 🥰
Warnings: Fluff. Lloyd is a sweetheart, but he’s a conniving sweetheart with a competitive streak.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You roused slowly, drawn into consciousness by the stroke of Lloyd’s palm across your back. It was a much better way to wake up than to the blare of an alarm clock. With a groan, you stretched and rolled over to plaster yourself against him. Lloyd chuckled at your attempt to burrow into his chest and block out the bright light streaming in from the east facing window.
“Good morning, Princess.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day…”
Lloyd’s words knocked the lingering drowsiness from your mind, bringing you to full awareness in a second.
“Valentine’s Day?”
Why, exactly, was Lloyd commenting on Valentine’s Day? You’d witnessed his reactions to the past three Valentine’s Days. He was anything but amused by the annual celebration of love and romance.
“Yes, I said ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ because it’s Valentine’s Day,” he said.
You pushed off his chest, leaning back to put an arm’s length between you, examining him from a distance to see if he’d grown a second head overnight. Because the Lloyd Hansen you knew despised Valentine’s Day.
“It’s considered polite to respond to the greeting of “Happy Valentine's Day,” by repeating it back to the person who originally said it,” Lloyd said.
“Uh… sure, it is. But that only stands if the person saying it hasn’t made their hatred for the holiday perfectly clear in prior conversations.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate Valentine’s Day.”
“Allow me to replay some of your previous comments about the holiday…”
Lloyd groaned. “Princess! Give me a break.”
You held up a finger. “Two years ago you claimed Valentine’s Day was the greatest scam ever played on society. Last year you said Esther Howland was your personal hero for turning love into a multi-billion dollar industry. You’ve also claimed that if you could have dinner with any historical figure, it would be her, because only a true genius could turn a fake holiday into an absolute cash cow.”
Lloyd huffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! This is the day of love, and I’ve never said any different.”
Mimicking him, you lowered your voice. “Valentine’s Day is a brilliantly designed con by a Victorian spinster that’s poured billions into an otherwise sluggish retail month for more than a century! The candy makers and the floral industry should build her a monument.”
“That jogs my memory,” he said, eyes narrowing. “You said men benefit the most from Valentine’s Day because it reinforces societal expectations of marriage and romantic commitment.”
“Depending on the relationship, Valentine’s Day can turn into the male equivalent of buying an indulgence,” you said. “If you get her the right flowers, and make sure all her friends see them delivered, poof! The crap you pulled last week is forgotten.”
His expression turned sour and you laughed.
“Did you say those things because you meant them, or just to shut me up?” he asked.
“A little of both. Why?”
“Because, while I stand by my position on Valentine’s Day being a corporate scam, and I agree with your point that its’ a form of social control, this is also a day where I’m expected to perform-”
“Oh, really?” you giggled.
“Zip it, Princess… as I was saying. Because we’re lovers, and because I hate disappointing you, I’m officially celebrating my first Valentine’s Day. The dancing monkey routine starts now.”
Unable to hold onto your composure a moment longer, you dissolved into giggles.
Lloyd growled, snagging you by the waist and nipping at your ear. “Laugh all you want, but trust me. You’d better enjoy this. If you don’t, I will sulk.”
“I’m already having the best Valentine’s Day ever. That little presentation was a treat of its own.”
He perked up, a smug gleam coming into his eye. “Then we’re off to a good start. Now, go downstairs and find your first official treat of the day.”
Because it was Lloyd, and you knew he never did anything by half-measures, you bounded down the stairs. Had he sent you a dozen red roses? Two dozen?
In the foyer, the arrangement was waiting on the front table. You gasped at the sight of sixty long stemmed red roses, arranged in a cloud of baby’s breath. Then the absurdity of it, and the difficulty that must’ve gone into getting such a large bouquet at this time of year, made you laugh. You looked up at the sound of footsteps to find Lloyd behind you.
“You could have gotten away with far less, you know. I’m a pretty cheap date.”
“I know, but I have a reputation to uphold.”
He led you by the hand, into the kitchen, and you saw the dining table had been laid with fine china and a pristine white table cloth. The smell of freshly made French Toast and syrup was mouthwatering.
“Just wait,” Lloyd purred into your ear. “Today, I’ve got all the bases covered.”
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The comment he made about ‘having all the bases covered’ slipped by you, probably on account of the delicious French Toast.
But at the office, two hours later, during your morning meeting with the paralegal team, there was a knock on the door. The meeting was interrupted by the arrival of another bunch of flowers. This one was more modest, but the splendor of two dozen pink roses had all the girls gushing. Savannah snagged the card and you nearly panicked at the thought that Lloyd might have signed it. Instead, he’d written a cryptic note.
I know this bouquet is smaller than the one I sent this morning, but I wanted you to have something for your desk. Love, your dragon.
You couldn’t make eye contact with Jen, who undoubtedly knew who the sender was. The dragon was something she’d taken to calling Lloyd in response to his nickname for you. When you mustered up the courage to make eye contact, she was smirking, her eyes bright with barely contained laughter. As you carried your arrangement upstairs, she darted into the stairwell behind you.
“Today’s a stairs day, huh?”
“Yes, because if I take the stairs, you and your sprained ankle can’t follow me,” you said.
“It’s no big deal, I’m already in a boot.”
Jen bounded after you, her movements as agile as women half her age dreamed of being.
“So, what did he send to your apartment?”
“Loosen up, I’m impressed. Lloyd hates Valentine’s Day with the kind of fervor turkeys hate Thanksgiving. Is he jealous or something?”
“No, there’s no one for him to be jealous of!”
Jen laughed. “Two floral arrangements in one day? He’s got a bee in his bonnet.”
“This morning he told me he’d covered all the bases. I guess this is what he meant.”
Her tone was intrigued. Now, if anyone came close to hating Valentine’s Day as much as Lloyd, it was Jen. The two were so similar they’d probably been cast from the same mold. The bubbling delight in her tone worried you.
“Yeah. Why? What are you thinking?”
“Well… If I wanted to prove something, I’d go a lot further than just flowers.”
You froze at the door to the fifth floor. “Further? What’s further than flowers?”
Jen cackled, holding the door open on account of your full hands, then turning to head back downstairs to her own office, giggling. You stared after her. She’d figured out what was in store for you, but clearly wasn’t sharing the insight.
Then it started.
A courier delivered a package to your desk at ten-thirty, and you unwrapped a set of pink diamond earrings, with a matching necklace and ring. Before lunch another delivery came. This time there was a package filled with so many chocolates you had to take them down to the paralegal’s room to share. Jen skipped in, grinning ear to ear. You grabbed her by the elbow.
“Did he coordinate this with you?”
“Oh, no. Coordinate would be too strong of a word. But I did call him and suggest the chocolates, including which package he should order. I had a craving, and since he’s in a spending mood…”
“Jen! I have the entire office talking! This is like twelve days of Christmas! I’m worried the next present will be a puppy or something!”
“It’s cute, he’s trying really hard.”
“Is it freaky friday or something? You just said something nice about Lloyd.”
“He bought me chocolate. Well, actually he bought you chocolate, but there’s like ten pounds of chocolate in the room with us, so I’m feeling generous.”
“Your friendship is so easily bought.”
“This chocolate arrangement costs more than your rent, Princess. I might be unscrupulous, but I am not cheap.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It went on like that. At the end of the day you had the bouquet, a set of pink diamond jewelry, enough chocolate to last the year (which you left with the paralegals, after taking a reasonable sized portion to your desk), a voucher for the day at the Waldorf Hotel Spa, and two bags of who-knew-what from a ladies boutique in Georgetown, which you didn’t dare open at work, because you’d bet your new diamond jewelry it was lingerie. Then, at four-thirty there was another knock at your office door.
A young man in a polo shirt stood there, with a visitor’s pass pinned to his front pocket.
“Is this Y/N’s office? I have a delivery.”
“Yes, that’s me. I can sign for it.”
“No need. Here you go.”
His grin revealed a gap toothed smile as he handed over what appeared to be a hat box. You waited until he left to undo the gossamer bow and crack the lid to peak inside. Gasping, you flipped it open, knocking the lid to the ground, and pulled out a large teddy bear. Overwhelmed by the cuteness, you squeezed it to your chest in a tight hug, your eyes misting with tears.
“So, this is the pièce de résistance of my Valentine’s Day campaign?”
Lloyd’s voice sounded from the door.
You looked up from the bear and rubbed your cheek against its soft head. He was grinning, enjoying your reaction, though the rest of his expression was confused.
“My Dad gets my Mom a new teddy bear for Valentine’s Day every year. She has a collection of like thirty at this point. He even built her a shelf to display them.”
The confusion in his eyes softened into delight as he watched you cuddle the bear.
“Well, I guess we’ve just started your collection.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The lesson for Lloyd on his first Valentine’s Day was that Jen could be bought.
She’d made it clear her generosity was only due to his extreme efforts to make this a special day for Princess. He’d only had to upgrade the quantity of chocolate on his order, and then Jen came through with a win, divulging the secret of your parent’s teddy bear tradition. He couldn’t wrap his head around how thousands of dollars in lavish gifts could be upstaged by a fifty dollar stuffed animal, but who was he to question the sanctity of a family tradition?
Women were strange creatures, and Valentine’s Day enhanced their peculiarities in the most unexpected ways.
Perhaps he could renew this tenuous alliance with Jen next February.
- - -
The End
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robot-horde · 2 months
Ever since I saw someone do the math and figure out a human lifetime is roughly equivalent to a day for a Cybertronian, I’ve been thinking about human and Cybertronian relationships.
It makes me think maybe Cybertronians aren’t very reluctant to be friends with humans for that reason. Having a romantic relationship is the equivalent of a one night stand. Now I’m thinking about the emotional implications of that. How the time is comparatively so short but the feelings can be intense.
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starglowwos · 3 months
i think there's a lot of struggling within various fandoms of combining the game that is minecraft along with real life into this fantasy world of minecraft - things like in game days lasting 20 real life minutes being hard to make sense of in the fantasy compromise that various fandoms for minecraft roleplay smps such as dsmp, hermitcraft, empires, rats, traffic lives, etc, have sort of worked out a general consensus on how things tend to work
one thing i don't think we've figured out yet though is how the passage of time works in limited life
in real life, it's a full 24 hours that everyone is given to live.
but like, that'd mean the entirety of limited life takes place inside one daylight cycle (assuming we're not going with the in game interpretation where every day is 20 minutes, that just leaves no time for anything to happen realistically)
so like, whats happening here?? there's really not much room for interpretation in terms of events and how long they take and when they take place, there's no inbetween and off-camera time for relationships to form, if it really is 24 hours it all just feels rushed and. wrong.
so what if the timers worked on a different timescale to that of the daylight cycle and how time is experienced?
one hour on the timer is equivalent to three minecraft days. so, 1 timer hour is 72 world hours. this also means that 1 timer day is 72 world days, which is equal to about 2.5 months, which also tends to be how long these death games last in real life (typically about 2 months)
i think i really like this idea. this means boogeymen would be chosen roughly once every 9 days, regular kills and deaths would gain the attacker 3 days of time and lose the victim 1.5 days, and that would double for boogey kills, which all feels about right to me
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orbital-inclination · 2 months
Hi! I have a question that I wouldn't be surprised if you had gotten before but as you don't have an FQA to check I'm going to ask now. Is it ok if anyone writes the brothers for Molten!Dream? Their designs are lovely and I like them a lot, though I don't know where I would possibly use them I just wanted to be sure before considering it! If it's ok, do you think you could give a little rough rundown on their personalities? I'm curious about their characterization, though I'll definitely read all the bits you have posted for them <3
It’s good you asked because the last time someone asked me this question it was just after I’d posted about Molt and Rem for the first time. X) Writing the brothers/writing fic is A-OK!
As for personalities, here’s a rough sketch.
Molt: kind-heart, sensitive and downright sweet once he lets down his guard. Tolerant and forgiving. Unresolved trauma from the events that led to his corrupt has transformed him into a quiet and reserved individual. He has deeply internalized the idea that it’s morally wrong for him to express and act on his own (repressed) negative feelings. Struggles to trust and build new friendships out of fear of being used and betrayed again. Courageous but somewhat selfish. About as dangerous as canonical!Dream temperament wise (which is roughly equivalent to that of a kitten.) but the ambient influence of his magic is difficult to resist if you’re unprepared for it.
Warning, over exposure to Molt’s magic may led to the following symptoms: Obsession. Hedonism. Excessive Greed. The compulsion to laugh hysterically. Disengagement with reality. If you or a loved one have experienced the above, please seek his brother, Remembrance, immediately. (Or Baggs I guess, if Rem is unavailable but frankly you’d probably be safer with Sci.)
Rem: driven by guilt and regret. Cynical and pessimistic. Temperamental but more cunning than you’d expect. Secretive. Willing to lie to his brother to keep the peace. As equally willing to sacrifice an AU or four dozen for what he believes is the greater good. Carries himself like the prince he wants you to believe he is. Haughty, and not above being a smug little shit once he’s bested you. Introverted at his core and a massive bookworm. The bane of librarians, archivists, doctors, witches and government officials everywhere. Also, supportive of activities that improve the mental health of his the boys. Kinder than his sometimes prickly and guarded persona may suggest.
Their relationship can be… strained at times. Despite this, Rem primary motivation is making amends for the events that led to his brother’s corruption. Though the two may fight, they care too much to ever truly betray or hurt each other.
I also covered the Murder Trio + Cross and Blue in this ask here. And Killer got his own post too, if you’re interested in that!
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shootingst4rpress · 23 days
posting my Life Series/Hermitcraft but it's Blaseball AU on here
because it's been rotating in my brain for like a week and i actually love it
this au is split into PRE-HISTORY BLASEBALL and INTERNET LEAGUE BLASEBALL. the pre-history timeline is in this post under a readmore & i will reblog with the ILB timeline.
this is an AU where the minecraft youtubers from the Life Series and/or Hermitcraft are Blaseball players in the world of Blaseball. some characters are pretty directly mapped onto each other (FalseSymmetry is roughly Megan Ito, InTheLittleWood is Parker MacMillan, Smajor is Jaylen Hotdogfingers) but most of the time i'm just putting equivalents of their stories into blaseball with narrative beats i like. this is inspired by both blaseball events and blaseball fan storytelling. anyway read on!
note: this is a version of prehistory that doesn't include full team incineration, and so the discipline/expansion era (including lift/worms/mechs) teams exist the whole time.
Ren Dog is a San Francisco Lovers pitcher, he's good, but not great. Martyn Littlewood is a hitter for the Charleston Shoe Thieves. The Watchers are a Blaseball god in this AU, similar to the coin, who love Martyn and are determined for him to rise to the top of the league. The Watchers are using their power to keep piling Wills and Blessings on Martyn, and he's kind of begrudging of the situation. Eventually, he changes teams to the Baltimore Crabs because of another blessing.
Martyn and Ren end up striking up a close relationship, since the Lovers and the Crabs play a lot of games together. They try and keep it somewhat secret, especially as Martyn begins to become more and more famous and more resentful and hateful of the Watchers.
Joel Beans is a hitter for the Lovers, but a blessing sends him into the Lovers shadows in exchange for Lizzie Shadowlady, a pitcher. Lizzie and Ren quickly become close friends, and this causes some jealousy from Martyn, but eventually he's persuaded to trust her and the three of them become a tight-knit little group. A blessing then steals Joel Beans onto the Kansas City Breath Mints. He has a tense rivalry with Lizzie, as she 'stole his place' on the Lovers, but it eventually blooms into a romantic relationship in true Blaseball style.
Throughout the seasons, there's been some weird reality disturbances going on, and Martyn's rise in skill and up the idol board is stopped when a reality-breaking game kills him. The Watchers, perhaps furious or perhaps in accordance with their plan all along, put the League into Debt in order to bring him back. This brings Martyn back, but he has a new modification—the Hand (this universe's Firewalker,) which causes him to incinerate everything he touches.
So Martyn starts killing people, and it's unsure whether he's out of his mind or truly wants to destroy the league. Meanwhile, Chicago Firefighters player False Symmetry has got the Roaming modification, and although she's sad about leaving her beloved team, she has a plan—she, while journeying across the League, and gaining an item trading/stealing modification, obtains an item called the Forcefield, which causes the player who has it to be unable to move from their position. She aims to put it on Martyn when he enters the Vault, but holding the Forcefield while Roaming (unable to move positions whilst having to move positions) causes her to be in a state of Superposition, and she glitches out of reality.
False, outside of the world of Blaseball, ends up becoming The Microphone, a Blaseball God who speaks cryptically to fans and seems to have their best interests in mind. She informs the fans about her plan, and the fans select a player to take the Forcefield to Martyn, and they pick Ren Dog.
Ren doesn't want to imprison Martyn in the Vault, for obvious reasons, but after Martyn incinerates Lizzie in a game, and then Joel for trying to attack him (as well as incinerating many many others) he decides he has to do it. He's traded by fans to the Baltimore Crabs, and then equipped with the Forcefield, so he can trade it to Martyn. At the end of the season, Martyn becomes eligible to enter the Vault, and Ren gives him the Forcefield, trapping him forever. Hopefully.
Also, Etho Slab is here and he plays for the Canada Moist Talkers. It didn't come up, but he is there.
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j0kers-light · 5 months
His Lighthouse: Love In The Club (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
Love In The Club
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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:
Girl's night has finally arrived bringing more issues and drama for both Joker and Y/n to face. More separation will put their growing relationship to the test or will an unknown variable bring them even closer?
author’s note: 
Hey hi! Thank you for patiently waiting as I crafted this looong chapter! It's over 15K!! I thought about cutting it in half but again, where's the fun in that? Sit back with a snack and a drink and enjoy the ride!
PLEASE READ: I recommend listening to "Love In The Club" by Jvck James both his original version and the Apple Music Home Session release to really immerse yourself in the inspiration for this chapter. You won't regret it! 
@blackreaderatrisk   @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angell @kaidennnnn @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @nanalover00
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Last Chapter  | Next Chapter 
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Joker was on the move the second you entered the florist center.
He considered the grocery trip over and hauled the cart full of goods towards the checkout area. He tossed some junk food into the cart along the way knowing you would scold him out for it later but honestly, he didn’t care. Late night munchies hit him hard and at the most random of times. If he didn’t have pop tarts or something equivalent, well.. you didn’t want him blowing up buildings to fight off a sugar craving now did you?
It was either sweets or citywide destruction. The box was $4.98.
He did find it odd that an organic and healthy food store like EverFresh sold fattening products. He’d contemplate that contradiction later.
He approached a cashier dreading this portion of the trip.
Even though he flirted with various customers and employees in the store, actually talking to one person for an extended period of time would be more than what he signed up for.
Joker just wanted to stay by your side but you denied him that simple request. He was not going to patiently wait around while you talked to your friend. He had better things to do like worry about tonight’s festivities.
Like hell he was letting you leave Gotham’s city limits without some form of security.
You didn’t understand just how serious Dent’s bounty on your head was. Hiding at Wayne’s Manor for eighteen days did absolutely nothing but get on Joker’s nerves.
When you had beef with a crime boss, it was for life. You would never be safe until Dent was removed from the picture because Joker refused for you to be killed by the former district attorney.
Your safety remained a top priority to Joker even though you considered the situation officially handled. He didn’t expect you to know any better (especially since you were a civilian) so he made it his responsibility to look after you.
It was kinda like his way of paying you back for barging into your life and for letting him use your penthouse as a hiding place. You were already risking so much for him. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if you died on his watch.
Joker slammed the cartons of milk on the conveyor belt too roughly just thinking about it.
The cashier jumped but still smiled sheepishly at him. She took her sweet time enjoying the view, i.e Joker, although he hardly noticed. Bright and cheery blondes weren’t his type. You ruined him for any future women.
“Find everything okay?” The repetitive beeping noise was amplified when Joker didn’t reply.
He watched as each item appeared on the display screen and calculated up the total in his head. His mask covered his lips from view as he mouthed each brand name as a stress reliever.
The cashier eyed her coworker who was bagging the groceries. Antisocial, but still hot.
“Would you like to opt in for our same-day home delivery? It's ideal for members that live further– Excuse me? Sir?” She got Joker’s attention by shaking a bag of granola before scanning it.
His glare pinned her to the spot. She never saw eyes so complex. A chill went up her spine at the vibrant pine staring straight into her soul.
She spooked when she heard his voice, “That sounds.. lovely.”
It was low and raspy yet she could hear the power it held. Authoritative and captivating; she was instantly weak in the knees.
“O-oh-okay um wow. I-I, um do you have your member’s card?”
Joker twirled your white EverFresh card in between his fingers and quirked an eyebrow.
He had to sell the mysterious musician or whatever you said he looked like. It didn’t make a difference to him. As long as he wasn’t discovered. Joker could tell this bimbo of a cashier was buying into his disguise. The bagger too. All because he looked like their dream man he was able to avoid detection. Pathetic.
“I need to scan it sir. Can you–” She reached out to take the card from Joker but he kept it out of her grasp all because he wanted to toy with her. He hummed when she blushed and eventually snatched the card from him.
Sexual frustration was oozing off of her. Easy prey. Joker thought.
Her eyes widened when she read the profile assigned to it. “Oh! This is Y/n L/n’s card. What’s your relation to her?”
“She’s my..” Joker stopped himself. What is Y/n to me? He pondered. An asset? Lover? A means to an end?
Joker wasn’t one to put labels on things but he felt you were worthy of one. “She’s my roommate.” He replied. It left a sour taste in his mouth.
The cashier made an unsure noise and typed something on her register keyboard.
“I’m sorry but Miss L/n is the sole user. I can’t use this card without her verbal authorization when she’s not present.”
This woman was gonna be a pain in the rear it seems.
Joker sighed and out of the corner of his eye he spotted the bagger walk off, hopefully not to bring unwanted attention to the scene. A noisy manager was the last thing Joker needed. He couldn’t blow his cover but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve to get his way.
He curled his fingers for the poor cashier to come closer. As much as she knew it was a bad idea, she did, and Joker quickly leaned over to whisper in her ear.
Good thing you were distracted with your friend. Joker didn’t know if you would’ve been intrigued or jealous. In two seconds flat the cashier was giggling uncontrollably and bypassing the block on the card.
“I’m so sorry! Haha! Don’t worry about the home delivery, it's free on this transaction but keep that between us. Blythe!” She signaled to her coworker who was returning with more recyclable bags.
“Contact delivery and let them know they have an expedited service to complete.” She winked at Joker and tapped her screen again.
“Alrighty then, your total is… $382.41. Cash or card?”
Joker grinned behind his mask. “Cash.”
                                       — — — — — HL — — — — —
Joker stepped out of EverFresh vowing to never return. The healthy conscious cult-like store sucked the last of his patience dry and he had half a mind to level the establishment to the ground with explosives.
Today he learned that organic toilet paper existed. It was a fact he could have gone without. He really needed a cigarette or something to get his mind off of committing acts of violence.
He patted his pockets but remembered that he wasn’t wearing his suit with its infinite pockets and secret stashes.
Joker rolled his eyes to the sky and let a string of curses fly from his mouth. A lady walking by covered her son’s ears and scoffed. He held back the urge to flip her off. Or worse, stalk her back to her place and kill her and the rest of her family in their sleep. It was a good idea the longer he thought about it…
No! What would Y/n think? It’s not worth it.
He didn’t want you thinking so poorly of him. He couldn’t return to your side with their blood smeared on his hands and expect your love. He didn’t want to scare you away; this dark side of him always scared people and yet his mind continued down a dark spiral.
Monster. Freak. She’ll never love you. Why should she? It spat into his eardrums and he almost believed it.
It wasn’t healthy to listen, however he was powerless to stop the voices once they began.
He needed a distraction. Then he remembered one. He had to protect you somehow tonight. Your safety was important. You were important. No matter how loud the voices were, he could never forget you.
You didn’t see him as The Joker but as a normal human being. No matter how broken and twisted he was, you still looked at him with those adoring eyes of yours. You always gave him your undivided attention. Your patience and kindness were everything to him. You gave Joker a sense of meaning. A sense of peace.
He gave you nothing but pain.
Regardless of that fact, you let Joker in. Not just into your life, oh no. Joker knew he had a place in your heart as well. He didn’t deserve to but he was a greedy man. He’d fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted.
And he wanted everything you could give and even then, it still wouldn’t be enough.
Joker exhaled from his nose and finally calmed down. What would he do without you? He couldn’t thank you enough for being the buffer between him and his more.. violent self.
You knew who Joker was and what he represented and he wanted to maintain that façade you created of him. You saw Joker as a roommate. Not a monster. So he would play the part.
But behind your back? He was evil personified.
Joker moved off to the side and pulled out his burner phone. He dialed the only number programmed on it and waited. It rang exactly four times before someone answered. They knew not to speak until Joker said something.
“Did you pick up the dry cleaning?” It was an average conversation to the untrained ear but the person on the other end knew the code.
“I forgot, but I can.” They replied before hanging up.
Joker placed his phone back into his pocket and made his way to the meeting spot. It wasn’t far of a walk but he didn’t want to rush and bring unwanted attention to himself. He had to keep in mind he was still on the run from the authorities and Batman.
He kept things low key as he walked towards the back alley of a laundromat business twenty minutes after the call.
Joker walked in and acknowledged the workers on duty washing, folding, and steaming linens. The place reeked of bleach and other cleaning chemicals. The temperature was stifling but Joker chose to ignore it and walked to an unmarked door and knocked thrice.
It opened and Frost stepped to the side for his boss to enter. Since it was a last minute meeting only need-to-know personnel was there which consisted of the top three.
Mac’s blonde hair was tipped back and hanging over his chair but he sat up when the main man walked in. “Nice fit, Boss!”
Neo was texting on his phone but took the time to smack Mac upside the head. The latter flipped him off until Frost’s hands slammed on the cheap folding table in the center of the room. “Knock it off.” He warned.
Joker rolled his eyes at their antics.
He made himself comfy at the head of the table and then proceeded to rip his mask off. All three men were shocked to see him sans makeup.
It was rare that Joker went around without his signature makeup and out of everyone in his organization, only the three men present had the pleasure of seeing his bare face.
Frost was the veteran of the group and he still shifted in his seat at the sight. “So what’s on the table? Is Two Face acting up again?”
Grumbles and expletives erupted from the table. Everyone had a bone to pick with the binary burn victim. Joker smacked his lips and waved off their concern.
“Now that? ThaT.. would be easy to handle but no. I need a lit-le favor. It’s Y/n again. Ya see—”
Mac sighed, earning Joker’s curiosity, although he didn’t miss a beat filling them in on your plans tonight. The other two goons nodded along and even shared some good insight but Mac wasn’t having it.
“Great, so now we’re beefing up our security because little Miss writer wants to party? I call bulls__t.”
Only the sound of laundering done in the next room could be heard after his outcry.
Frost shook his head. Neo’s hazel eyes darted back and forth between Joker and Mac before he focused back on his phone.
He didn’t want to see this. It was finna get ugly real quick. That would’ve been the case before when Joker didn't have any patience. Now he just patiently waited and that was even more terrifying.
“I didn’t know you had issues with Y/n. Care to tell me the source of that, uhh, frustration?”
Mac was the most opinionated of the top three but the pretty boy knew when to keep his mouth shut. The bad blood between you and him must’ve really bothered him to speak up about it.
It was becoming a big inconvenience that Joker wasn’t wearing his normal suit. His ripped jeans and long sleeve shirt couldn’t conceal all the knives and other goodies he used to carry around to intimidate people with.
That’s not to say he couldn’t harm a person without a weapon. Joker’s glare alone had Mac squirming in his seat.
And he quickly backtracked to save his skin.
“N-No it’s nuthing like that I promise, Boss. She and I exchanged some words back at her publisher’s office that I feel she ain’t redeemed herself from.”
Neo tossed his phone on the table and rounded on the blonde with an attitude. “Come off it my guy. I pointed a gun at her and we still on speaking terms!”
“You did whaT?” Joker growled. Neo paled, realizing he let that slip out.
Frost face palmed. They were asking for Joker’s wrath at this point. Out of these three you had more cause to dislike him the most. But did you see him complaining about it?
Frost decided to bring order back to this meeting. “So.. is this club here in Gotham? We’ll assign some goons around the place. No biggie.”
Green eyes flickered away from Mac and Neo to his right hand man. Deep breathes. No need to blow a fuse. Maybe he wasn’t explaining the situation properly because they weren’t seeing the issue here.
“No. It's out of state.” Joker saw when the lightbulbs clicked on. Finally everyone was on the same page.
“I want this kept between us. Under-stand? Yes?” He looked around the table for any naysayers.
Light brown eyes hesitated and Joker zeroed in on it. “Will thaT be a problem, Neo?”
He sighed. “No Boss. I had plans but I can work around ‘em.”
Frost raised an eyebrow to tease his fellow coworker. “I’d cancel them if I were you”
Neo seethed. “It won’t be a problem.”
“Great!” Joker clapped his hands once. All eyes were back on him. “Now that’s settled. Frost, I trust you with the finer details. The rest.. I’ll leave to the two of you. I don’t want anyy mistakes.” Joker looked down at an imaginary watch. “Well. Gotta run!”
His jester smile was more unnerving without his red paint on.
They all watched Joker place his mask back over his face and stand. If they didn’t know beforehand, their Boss looked like an average citizen. It was his best disguise to date.
Each of them waited until he left the room to finally relax. Mac breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He was off the hook for now. Frost and Neo shared a look and took pity on their fellow henchman. Were it so easy.
Joker wouldn’t forget any grievances against Y/n. You were a touchy subject best left alone. The blonde would have to tread carefully for the next few weeks to get back on Joker’s good side. Not like there is one to begin with.
Nevertheless, it would be a long night and it was almost two pm.
                                     — — — — — HL — — — — —
The subway ride back to your place was excruciatingly boring. It was completely uneventful if you ignored the fact just about every male catcalled or eye raped you on the way there.
You were instantly self conscious of your dressy outfit and blamed Joker for giving you the initial confidence to walk to the grocery store with Louboutin heels and a halter top in broad daylight. Make no mistake you felt amazing when Joker shadowed you. Now that he was gone you questioned your tight jeans and exposed shoulders.
You ducked behind corners, stuck with the crowd, and kept your head down all the way to your place. The tall white building welcomed you back with open arms.
Your heels clicked loudly on the lobby’s marble floors and you jumped when the front desk employee called your name.
“Just a second Miss L/n! There’s a delivery from EverFresh here for you.” Henry said.
You glanced at the person standing near the front. It was a male wearing a white polo with an EverFresh logo printed on its collar. He waved at you expectantly.
“Is it alright to bring your groceries up?”
How did he beat you here? Then you remembered they had a van whereas you were stuck to public transit and then forced to endure even more walking. You almost agreed but then stopped yourself. You didn’t know if Joker was back or not.
“Yes well.. actually. I need to check and make sure my cat isn’t out. He’s not too friendly with strangers.”
Using that little white lie again? Classy, real classy, Y/n. You shushed your subconscious.
They both watched as you power walked to the elevator. With a mash of a button the shiny doors opened with a soft ding. You stepped inside and stared at your reflection in the mirrored walls as they boxed you in.
You looked stunning yet you felt the exact opposite. Your mental state hadn’t fully recovered from the last twenty four hours. The physical reminders were hidden under concealer and tight smiles but the memories remained.
Tonight would prove to be a much needed reset for you. Eight o’clock couldn’t get here fast enough.
The trip to the twelfth floor was done in silence and you stepped onto your private floor, rehearsing your lines. You were gonna read Joker to filth for charging your card to high heaven.
But as you unlocked the door, the foyer was vacant.
You prowled the open space searching for your green haired roommate. He wasn’t in the massive living room nor in the dining space that flowed into the kitchen.
A peek inside your spare room and the main bath turned up empty. You checked the storage room, laundry, and your empty fourth bedroom that Joker didn’t know about before stopping in front of his guest room.
The door was closed but that didn’t stop you from barging in with an insult hot on your tongue. However it died on your lips when no Joker was found.
He wasn’t here.
Your heart skipped a beat.
You blinked back your tears and spoke aloud to calm your nerves. “No need to get all bent out of shape Y/n. Joker is a big boy, he can handle his own. A heads up would have been nice.. but worry about your missing roommate later. Call the front desk. Focus on getting ready for tonight. Joker can wait.”
You nodded to yourself and closed his door, mentally and physically pushing him into a corner of your mind, before pulling your cell out.
You scrolled until you found the front desk logo and hit the dial button. It rang a bit until Henry’s voice answered the phone. “NGR front desk, how can I assist you today?”
You smiled at his kind voice. “Um yes hi. This is Y/n, you can send the delivery up. Thank you.”
He hung up to authorize access.
You tidied up the kitchen a bit knowing the groceries would be brought directly in here. You and Joker cleaned the dishes before leaving but it was a nervous habit to clean. You couldn’t stand a dirty environment.
Your nervous tick spread from the kitchen to the living room as you straightened up the couch pillows, groaning at the layer of dust on your furniture, and you considered hiring housekeeping downstairs to clean your place back up to your standards.
The two weeks and four days hiding at Wayne Manor did quite a number on your place.
You could start cleaning now but Florence would literally murder you if you called and cancelled tonight’s plans.
And there was no way you could cook lunch, wash and style your hair, find an outfit, get dressed, and clean up before eight.
The clock in the kitchen ticked closer and closer to the top of the hour. Hopefully the girls would overlook the one time your home wasn’t picture perfect.
You did however pick up Joker’s ridiculous panda suit and shove it in the back of the coat closet in the hall. And just in time. The doorbell rang and its posh tone sent a shiver down your spine.
You hated your doorbell. Your closest friends knew to knock.
You opened the sleek black door to the charming fellow you saw downstairs. He waved again and you swept your arm, gesturing for him to come in. He pushed a delivery dolly inside loaded with white crates that held your groceries.
He must’ve noticed your look of confusion. “Hi. This is just the first load. I couldn’t carry everything up by myself.”
“Oh no worries. If you set that down in the kitchen I can start unloading while you go back down and grab the next trip.”
“That’ll be great! Good idea.” He parked the dolly and heaved the crates onto your counter. Then he scanned the barcode on the side with his powerpad before stepping out to retrieve the next load.
You rolled your eyes at the advanced delivery system EverFresh had. You dreaded the survey they would send to your email to rate your experience with us so we can improve! Times like this you wonder why you didn’t shop at a regular store.
‘I’m supporting Morgana and I like their selection of meat. Hang in there, Y/n’.
The logo painted crates opened up to recyclable boxes lined with dry ice. You took care not to touch them as you took out the produce, meats, and vegetables to stock up your barren fridge. The front door opened again and the delivery guy wheeled in another load of groceries and also sat down a handheld tote on the island counter containing fragile goods.
“That’s everything. Do you mind signing off?” He looked up from his pad at your backside sticking out the fridge. “D__n..”
You poked your head out of the veggies drawer to blink at him. “Did you say something?”
You didn’t hear him. It would’ve been awkward if you did. His nervous laugh made you eye him warily “Ah nothing Miss. Can you sign off on the shipment?”
You fixed your face and signed your name electronically before walking him to the door. He hesitated but spun around, preparing to ask you out when you cut him off. “Have a great day!”
The door closed right in his stunned face.
You didn’t need that in your life. Joker was M.I.A and you were getting worried.
“Okay… lunch. What to make for lunch?” You said to distract yourself. It made no sense how you always drew a blank on what to cook after spending so much on groceries.
And since Joker was the one that checked out you wouldn’t know the total until you got the monthly statement.
Just thinking about the delivery fee made you want to choke him. “Tsk. He probably thinks it’s funny.”
You put the last of the groceries in their rightful place and decided on making chicken salad sandwiches once you spotted the artisan bread Joker picked out. That way no matter what time he returned, nothing would go to waste. The leftovers could keep in the fridge.
You made another cheeseboard to go along with the girl’s portion of sandwiches, knowing Barbara’s motherly instincts would ensure that everyone was hydrated and fed before hitting the streets.
It doubled as lunch and dinner since you didn’t feel like making anything heavy. Plus if Joker didn’t bother to show up why bother cooking for him?
You chopped the green apple a little too aggressively and the dill was practically microscopic in your anger.
It was funny how he scolded you for running away but he could disappear at a moment’s notice and it was totally fine. And heaven forbid if you brought it up then you’d be instigating things!
You stopped chopping and rested your palms on the counter. The apartment was too quiet and that only made your current mood worse.
The dull sound of chopping echoed in the kitchen as you prepared lunch. Alone.
                                     — — — — — HL — — — — —
It was nearing two in the afternoon when you finished up the sandwiches.
They were placed on your favorite glass serving trays and placed in the fridge right next to the cheeseboard for the ladies. Florence thought you were such a housewife for calling it by its actual name, charcuterie board, but she secretly loved them.
You always picked the best cheeses and fruits and you designed them around your friend’s favorites and what was in season.
You were washing your hands when a loud thud hit your front door. It made you turn off the faucet and back away until you heard keys in deadbolt turning.
It was too early for Florence and Barb to be here and the front desk would’ve called beforehand rather than just barge in.
You grabbed the chef knife from its holder and braced yourself for anything. Joker did a great job making you forget for the time being that Two Face’s men kidnapped you from your home.
You couldn’t lower your guard not for a second.
Much to your relief it was Joker who walked in like he owned the place. He said nothing, just barreled straight towards your balcony like a man on a mission.
You didn’t know whether to be glad he was back or insulted by the cold shoulder. Then you remembered, he left you at the store and racked up a hefty fine with the delivery cost. That alone made you stomp barefoot out onto your private balcony.
Cindy always wondered why you chose the top floor of such an average apartment building. When she came over and saw your massive balcony she understood why.
The large space was divided in half; one portion was protected by the building’s glass roof almost like a sunroom but much bigger. It was easily mistaken as an extension of your living room since you kept the sliding door open most of the time.
Your houseplants dwelled here amongst a reading hammock, wicker couches, and ottomans. The actual ‘balcony’ was beyond another set of glass sliding doors and was completely open air.
A custom dining table similar to the one indoors sat atop a platform and a built in grilling area sat nearby itching to be fired up. It wasn’t hot enough for it yet.
A string of lights made this part of the balcony cozy and intimate on dark nights and when needed, you and guests could retreat to the enclosed space. It was quite handy for Gotham’s notorious rainy days.
But getting back to the matter at hand. You made sure to rattle the door on its track so Joker could hear you coming.
If he did hear it, he didn’t bother turning around. He remained hunched over the stone railing looking down at the view.
“You forgot something at the store, not like you care about how I made it back but still. Joker? Hello..? I’m talking to you.”
You reached the railing and turned him around by his shoulder. Your argument fizzled away once you saw a plume of smoke leave Joker’s mouth.
You were in awe. He took another drag and respectfully blew it over the edge. The wind carried it away before you could comment about the smell.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” He mumbled after an extended period of silence.
“N-No, I just.. I didn’t know you smoked. I mean. I never smelled it on you.”
The tip of the cigarette glowed a fiery red in light of your discovery. You were still fascinated by the sight.
Growing up smoking was a nasty habit your mother imprinted in your brain. You tried it once with your poetry club just to know what it was like. One hit, a few coughs, and more laughs from your friends and you were banned from rotation.
They never let you take a hit again. Whenever Florence lit up she never did it in your presence although she would accidentally leave her grinder lying around for you to find.
But seeing Joker breathing in nicotine as if it were second nature was hypnotic. Paired with his bad boy attire, he looked every bit the guy you didn’t bring home to mom.
He smirked and let the smoke escape his nostrils like the dragon he was. “Hmm. Then whaT do I smell like, doll?”
He let his plume of smoke curl around your head. You weren’t standing close enough to get second hand smoking, but it burned your nose a bit.
It had a unique smell actually. Nothing like the cheap smokes that clogged your senses and made you gag, no. Joker’s was more robust. Along with actually smelling good it triggered a key sensory response.
You were so dumb.
“You smell like gunpowder, lighter fluid, and something metallic with a hint of peppermint. Wait, that’s what it is!” You pointed at his cigarette. “I mistook it for peppermint but it's more akin to cinnamon or that of a cozy fire during the winter. Spicy and heady. I.. like it. It suits you.”
Joker froze like a statue. That’s what he smelled like to you? He never thought about it honestly.
He worked with knives and blood and his greasepaint at times had a strong smell to it but the way you described him, all comforting and alluring, had Joker’s chest tightening up.
You made it worse by walking up to him and running your hands from his chest up to his broad shoulders.
He felt you loop your arms around his neck and he held his cigarette away thinking you were planning on kissing him.
“I was supposed to be mad at you for charging my debit card but I can’t stay mad at you for long.” You sighed to yourself and gazed up at him affectionately.
Joker found himself becoming bashful. Which was a first.
“It wasn’t that much Bunny..” Joker mumbled in his defense. Your e/c glare said otherwise.
“They charge by mileage. It might not seem far but to my building, delivery averages out to about a hundred dollars? And with how quickly they got here you probably selected the expedited service. On top of the groceries itself that’s what? Five hundred dollars you swiped?”
Joker sighed and flicked his cigarette bud over the balcony. He wasted no time wrapping his arms around you. His scars caught your eye when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Don’t. Worry. Your. Pretty. Little. Head.” He exaggerated each word with a tap on your nose. You blinked wildly and frowned up. “Joker..”
He bent down to steal a kiss. You expected it to be bitter from his cigarette but an explosion of spice hit your tongue instead. He was changing your perspective of smokers big time.
You wondered if it was exclusively a Joker thing. You weren’t gonna go around kissing smokers either to collect appropriate data. Joker would have a fit.
“Stooop worrying. You got your groceries. It’s… in the past. Shouldn’t you be uh, getting ready?”
And just like that the moment you shared was broken.
You squeaked and gripped your hair. “You’re right! I have to start getting ready!” You tried to escape Joker’s hold but he wouldn’t let go.
In fact, he pulled you closer. “Can I help?” He mumbled on the side of your neck.
You glared at him sourly. He was the reason why you had to uninstall your loc braids in the first place. Yet his kisses felt remorseful so you began to cave.
“Or watch…” He suggested with a flick of his tongue on the shell of your ear. “I’m ~perfectly~ fine with watchin.’
No one could see you up here but the flush of your skin must’ve been profound. Joker knew exactly how to rile you up.
“Fine.” You pushed against his chest. “Meet me in the bathroom. I’ll go grab my stuff.”
You spun to go but he dragged you back by your wrist. It felt like a dance; it happened so fluidly.
“Ya know Y/n. It would be easier if you just let meee in your room. So you don’t have to, uh, keep hauling things back and forth.”
Joker knew he said the wrong thing when you tensed up in his arms. He could really use an undo button right about now because your eyes looked sharper than the knives he owned.
“Good point. I don’t need your help. I’ll get ready in my room instead.” You noted.
You managed to escape his hold and was halfway to the sunroom door when Joker grabbed you again. He hated when you got like this. All defensive and distant. He really had to choose his words carefully around you.
“Let go Joker.” You mumbled as he held your back to his chest.
He didn’t. “Whyyy? So you can hide in your room till time to go? If I’m not allowed to go with you, at least lemme see my Princess get all dolled up.”
He used his new nickname for you and it had the same effect as before.
Now there were some names that Joker made up that you absolutely hated but something about him calling you Princess, or his all time favorite, Bunny, that sent heat straight to your core.
He saw you shift your weight from foot to foot.
“Fine. You can w-watch but I swear if you distract me I’ll leave!” You sent him a warning glare over your shoulder.
“Mmmm yes ma’am. LooK but don’T touch.” Joker thought it would be an easy task until a few minutes later, he realized just how hard this would be.
He sat on the wooden bench in the main bathroom ready for a show and boy did you deliver.
You came in wearing a bikini the same color as your skin complexion. The illusion of being nude was spot on and Joker had to have his hands on you.
You were busy de-tangling your hair but saw his dark figure approaching you from behind through the mirror. His hands grazed your waist before you slapped them away. “No!”
You brandished your comb like a sword and spun around to face him. “You promised! The plan was to look but no touching!”
Joker sucked air through his teeth and made a show of checking you out. “Yeahhhh, but. Do I look like a guy with a plan?”
You weren’t buying it. “Sit. Down.”
He grinned and returned to his seat at the entrance to the shower. Here he could watch you while avoiding the spray of water. Not like he cared about getting wet; he actually planned on seeing you dripping wet and crying out his name.
You didn’t know that would be happening soon. He liked having the element of surprise.
What could he say? Ever since Joker got a taste of you he was hooked. He focused back on the present when you walked past him to hop in the shower.
You locked eyes with him for a brief second. A, don’t you dare, warning was evident in your e/c orbs but he wasn’t phased by it.
You thought you could order Joker around but he was uncontrollable. Many before you have tried. He wished you good luck.
It put a smile on his face to know you’ll fail just like the rest.
The water absorbing into your bikini and slicking your hair down your back also put a smile on his face. Joker got to see your natural curls appear in real time. Each one was a perfect coil that he wanted to wrap around his finger. With a pout he remembered he was stuck with watching the game from the sidelines. For now.
Once your hair was wet enough you squeezed almost half of the bottle into your hands and worked the shampoo into your curls.
You were so lost in your own world you seemed to forget you had an audience when you started to hum.
Joker was mesmerized as your body swayed to a tune of your own creation. Suds fell from the crown of your hair down to your shoulders after the second round of shampoo. He could watch this all day.
That distinctive scent of yours wafted in the air and Joker almost groaned aloud.
Your hair products would be his undoing. Rosemary, lavender, peppermint, and that elusive fruit he still couldn’t quite name, invaded his mind. If you smelling this good had this effect on him then he could only imagine how he affected you with his own.
You drugged his senses and the scent was amplified by the hot water you used.
Sitting by the shower door was torture. The smell hit him dead on as it escaped into the bathroom behind him.
He didn’t realize just how much time had passed as you stood underneath the spray of water to rinse your hair. Once the water at your feet ran clear you turned the shower off and applied your conditioner.
You were thinking of styling your hair into a natural updo so a plastic shower cap was secured over your head to seal in the moisture like a deep conditioner.
You were about to step out of the shower when Joker decided to make his move.
He stood to his full height and blocked the entrance. You actually forgot he was there.
“Geez you scared me. Did you enjoy the show?” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes.
You didn’t expect Joker to wordlessly nod his head. His eyes were hooded and never left yours, causing you to look away. “Great. Um.. can you move out the way?”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to advance forward until your back hit the subway tiles and you gasped at him in disbelief. He wanted to rip that stupid plastic off your head— bury his hands in your curly mane and kiss you until you forgot how to breathe.
Joker wanted to pick you up, wrap your legs around his waist and make you so late that you couldn’t go out with your friends tonight.
Then you would be stuck here with him, tangled in the sheets, begging for him to stop. He wouldn’t though.
Not until this primal urge, this unknown hunger for you was stated.
But that would be selfish. Joker knew how much tonight meant to you. And since you asked him so nicely, practically begged to go with those teary eyes of yours, it would be cruel of him to foil your plans.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t get a teeny tiny taste before you left. It would be a long night for him while you were gone.
Why not give him something to occupy his mind with until you came back? You had mere seconds before the big bad wolf descended on you.
“Just a little taste, Bunny.”
                                      — — — — — HL — — — — —
Joker was ‘nice’ enough to wash your conditioner and comb your freshly washed strands out.
You were going for bouncy effortless curls tamed into a messy, but still stylish updo to offset your dress.
It was the perfect LBD to wear to the club tonight. Not too short that it looked trashy but sparkly enough for the occasion. Florence didn’t assign an official dress code so you were following the hot girl summer idea you told Morgana about.
However there was no need for you to dress up when the real party was standing behind you. You were too busy stewing in your seat, mourning the time Joker wasted indulging in his own party.
You pleaded for him not to leave any more hickeys before you lost the ability to string coherent sentences together.
Technically he listened. They just weren’t on your neck or arms.
Joker ripped your poor bikini to shreds before diving straight into his meal. You swore your eyes rolled to the ceiling and stayed there for the full hour. He stopped to give you breaks and to feed your praise kink before grinning wildly at your dazed expression struggling to stay awake.
Joker was truly a sadist yet in the same breath his aftercare was superb. He helped you wash up in the shower and carried you out when your legs were reduced to jello.
His hands mapped out every inch of your skin while applying lotion and his eyes dared you to move a muscle or stop him.
The ‘look but don’t touch’ rule was long forgotten mkay?
All of Joker’s sweet gestures were for naught when he dropped you in a chair and ordered you to stay still.
He applied the right products you asked him to use and carefully rolled your hair before dragging you to the kitchen. There he ordered you to eat and rehydrate– “Because you lost a lot of fluids, Bunny.”
“That you stole.” You thought you kicked his leg, unfortunately it was just the island barstool.
That earned you a belly laugh from Joker. You liked the sound of it even if your foot was screaming in pain. It was worth it.
Time seemed to fly as you talked about this and that, just enjoying Joker’s company as the two of you ate.
His deep hums and short nods were comforting as you discussed something serious and he proved that not only was he listening, but he was retaining the information by firing questions right back at you or repeating something to clarify.
It felt.. nice. Joker soaked up this domestic bliss. He couldn’t help but reach over and brush your bottom lip with his thumb.
“You’d look realllly pretty with my red lipstick on baby doll.”
You choked on your water. New nickname: unlocked.
When you composed yourself and glanced up, Joker was still eyeing your lips. “Y-you want me to wear your lipstick tonight?”
“Yeah. I wanna see it. See you.” He left out the part where it was him inadvertently staking his claim on you.
He knew you agreed the moment your eyes dilated.
A jingle chirped from your phone and interrupted the moment. You glanced down at the device and paled. “Oh my gosh! It’s almost six?!” You pushed your chair back and grabbed the dishes that you and Joker made.
Another chime rang but you were already at the sink, preparing to wash.
“Can you read that new message to me, Joker?” He raised an eyebrow but did as you asked. He leaned over and squinted.
“Mm, poor Cindy can’t make it tonight.” He sang.
The message came from the girl’s group chat and with the girl boss active, everyone else chimed in.
He watched your friend Florence send a string of sad emojis followed by Morgana also expressing her disappointment. Then a text came through that he knew you wouldn’t like.
He glanced over at the clock and winced. “Uh… Y/n?”
You hummed a yes with your back still turned. It was now or never to tell you.
“Uhhhhh they’re coming early. As in. Seven instead of eight earlyyyy.”
Joker saw how the information straightened your spine. He eyed your robe and then your hair still in its rollers and knew you would panic. It was an instant reaction. One minute you were washing dishes the next?
You were acting like a chicken with its head cut off.
Joker didn’t feel awful for grabbing hold of you and shaking you silly. “Go finish getting dressed. I’ll handle.. whatever.”
You didn’t question what his version of whatever was you just ran to your room to get ready.
Joker rolled his eyes hearing the door slam but made his way to the bathroom. If the Commissioner's daughter was on her way, any and all evidence of him being here needed to be erased.
He planned on watching you finish getting all dolled up but the new meeting time put a wrench in those plans.
Maybe he could catch a glimpse when you came home.
The first knock came a little after 7pm. Joker had already locked himself in his room for the night. Hopefully none of the girls questioned why that room was off limits.
You were dressed in your mini dress and fastening some drop earrings on when you went to open the door. Morgana was waiting on the other side holding a bouquet of spring flowers.
“Ahh! You remembered. Thank you!” You took the flowers from her but did a double take at her outfit of choice once they were out of the way.
“Is it too much?” She whined. You were speechless. “No. No..”
Her long hair was slicked back with hair gel, giving it a wet look that did wonders for her stunning dress. It was silver and with its drastic plunging neckline, your gaze was drawn to her breasts. She brought more attention to them with a long necklace that was actually a body chain.
“You look…” You trailed off.
She laughed and walked into your apartment with flair. “Sickening!” Her matching heels clicking on the floor confirmed it.
Then you saw the back of her dress. Sickening indeed.
“The flowers are gorgeous by the way!” You closed the door softly.
The two of you were talking and munching on fruit from the cheeseboard when the second knock of the night sounded.
“Be right back.” Morgana waved you off, too busy checking her phone to care.
You opened the door and Barbara’s fiery locks were the first thing you saw. “Okay. I’m feeling super underdressed here.” You groaned.
Barbara chuckled and wheeled herself in. “That sounds like a personal problem my friend. We are going clubbing right?”
Wrong answer. Barbara was dressed for the runway.
Even seated, you fell in love with her short sequined dress that screamed glamor biker vibes.
When she moved you saw the cut outs traveling down her front. And her shoes!! Black leather thigh highs that glistened in the lights. Various silver rings adorned her fingers and she even added silver embellishments into her high frizzy ponytail. Her natural red mane was the only color to her outfit.
“She is her. Not a crumb left!” She ate up your hype and joined Morgana in the living room.
“So where’s the girl of the hour?” She snagged a sandwich and a glass of water that you offered her.
Morgana’s focus was on her phone. “Stuck in traffic but almost here. I love how we all coordinated our outfits without consulting with one another!”
The three of you glanced around and sure enough, each of you wore sequins of black and silver.
A round of laughter was shared before Barbara spoke. “Oh wow, I wonder what Florence is wearing then.”
“If she’s matching we gotta take pictures!” Morgana added.
During their little chit chat you snuck over to your floor length mirror in the room to add the final touches to your outfit. Joker didn’t get to see you before he locked himself in his room and you kinda wanted his opinion on your attire.
Although you matched with the girls you were starting to feel self conscious in your plain dress and heels. Your hair was flawless and came out exactly how you wanted it but something was missing.
While Morgana and Barbara weren’t looking you went and grabbed Joker’s red lipstick from the bathroom. You held it firmly but for some unknown reason your hand shook as it hovered near your lips.
Maybe because it was sentimental? It was Joker’s.
It was his color, his tool to taunt and terrify the city with. Sure it was just an innocent shade found in any beauty store but the power it held was insurmountable.
You didn’t know if it would compliment your skin tone but there was no time to grab another color. The hour was getting closer and closer to eight.
You closed your eyes and swiped the hue over your lips.
It was soft to the touch and when you opened your eyes, the opacity was extraordinary. It was perfect. Crazy how a shade of lipstick made you feel powerful. You smirked at your reflection and strutted to the front door to answer Florence’s urgent knocking.
The second it unlocked she too sauntered in, a thousand apologies spewing from her dark painted lips.
“Alright b___hes! Sorry I’m late, my Uber driver tried to hoe me. But I have arrived.” She raised her arms like an Egyptian and spun in her silver strappy heels.
Everyone’s eyes started there and followed the straps up her legs before taking in the scandalous sight that was Florence.
“D__n girl. Is this Euphoria place secretly a strip club?” Morgana whistled.
Barbara nodded along thinking the same. You on the other hand threw your hands up, huffing.
“That’s it, I'm done. I’m not going because why bother when Florence shows up wearing nothing! Do you even have on underwear?”
Florence stopped spinning and struck a pose. ‘Um yes?” She pointed to her crystal thong. “I am not getting arrested for public indecency.”
“Again.” Morgana mentioned. Everyone burst out laughing as Flo made her way to the living room.
“Yeah yeah. Real funny. That was one time and I looked phenomenal. Oooh food!” She picked up a sandwich, thanking you in passing for preparing it.
After a bite or two she took a gander at her squad. “Not all of us matching!” Her feathery sleeves danced in the air as she snapped her fingers. “Question. Is your titties buckled in girl?” She asked once she noticed Morgana adjusting them.
“I have so much tape securing these puppies. Trust me, nothing is slipping. Can’t say the same for you potentially flashing someone tonight.” She tossed back.
“My goodies are covered in Swarovski crystals darling!” She quoted a famous celebrity and flicked her waist length braids over her shoulder.
Her exotic eyes glanced over at you. “Are my eyes deceiving me? Is Y/n wearing makeup?! Oh, and what time is it?”
Barbara leaned in closer to see. “She is! That red looks beautiful on you Y/n and it's… ten minutes till Flo.”
If only Barbara knew who’s lipstick she just complimented. It would be your secret for the night.
The time however had everyone jumping to action. Everyone moved as a unit cleaning up the remnants of dinner and polishing off the cheeseboard.
Everything else vanished in the rush to leave. Barbara was scheduling an Uber to the airport, Morgana magically acquired alcohol from thin air, and Florence was live streaming and taking shots with her for the ‘gram.
This was it. The night had officially begun.
Your heart was racing, utterly ecstatic that tonight was about to happen but you still cast a forlorn glance at Joker’s bedroom door wishing you weren’t leaving him behind.
It felt wrong somehow leaving the state in light of your situation but what could you do?
You refused to hide forever. That much was certain, plus you deserved to have some fun.
Morgana was holding the door open for Barbara and Florence was yelling at you to ‘put ya heels on and let’s go! before you could call off the night. It was too late for cold feet. They would drag you to the plane kicking and screaming if you tried backing out now.
With the girls waiting for you out in the hallway you quickly grabbed your phone and evening clutch before locking your roommate inside.
                                     — — — — — HL — — — — —
Florence insisted on giving the Uber driver five stars simply because she was a real one and blasted music the entire way to the airport.
She understood the vibes and scored more brownie points for having a handicap lift installed in her SUV for Barbara to use. The night was off to a good start that only got better once the SUV came to a stop on the tarmac.
A private jet stood waiting with a crew on the steps to greet you all. It was dark but you noticed the red carpet laid out for the girls to walk on.
Whoever Florence's client was, he meant business.
The crew was very accommodating to Barbara and her disability. She was the first aboard using a modified lift built into the hull and with the open layout of the plane, she didn’t have to worry about leaving the comfort of her personal chair to save non-existent aisle space.
Barbara thanked each personnel that helped and asked for names so she could write a stellar review.
If only this were the treatment with commercial flights. She wasn’t the only one enjoying the experience. Morgana had yet to shut up about the fancy jet claiming she ‘wanted one.’
Along with being handicap accessible, the interior was cream against a wood finish and there was a fresh smell lingering on everything.
Florence was too busy taking selfies with you to notice that something was wrong.
The crew went over the required preflight safety demonstration and offered drinks to everyone, however twenty minutes had passed since boarding the plane and it had yet to taxi down the runway.
“Why ain’t we moving yet?” Florence asked in general.
Morgana looked out the window like the answers were somehow out there. All she could see was a sea of blinking lights and another plane landing on a nearby runway. Almost on cue an announcement sounded from the plane’s intercom.
“Hello ladies! This is your Captain speaking. There’s been a slight hiccup that we’re actively resolving. Please enjoy your refreshments and I’ll have us airborne in ten minutes!”
“I hope everything is alright.” You said.
Barbara flagged down a stewardess who repeated the same message as the pilot but with a lot more reassurance.
True to their word nine minutes later, you all felt the plane start to move. And just in time. Florence was beginning to tap her heels on the floor.
“Hello ladies. Captain speaking again! You know the drill, buckle up until the seatbelt lights are off. In roughly two hours I’ll have you all safe and sound in ATL.”
You struck up a conversation with Barbara for the duration of the flight while Morgana and Flo charged their phones and talked amongst themselves. The flight itself wasn’t long and relatively smooth until the landing wheels roughly touched down on the ground.
“Welcome to Atlanta ladies! Hope everyone enjoyed the flight. Please make sure you don’t leave any personal belongings on your way out. Enjoy the rest of the night and I’ll be here waiting to take you back home!”
“Geez, he is too hyper for a Captain.” Morgana joked while riding the lift down to the tarmac with Barbara.
It was a little odd in your opinion but you still thanked the crew for their hospitality on the way out.
You all climbed into the sleek Cadillac idling near the plane. This one also was modified to accommodate Barbara and she couldn’t keep quiet anymore.
“I can’t wait to meet this client of yours Flo. He thought of everything!”
You and Morgana buckled in your seatbelts, a row in front of them. You verbally agreed, having never seen a modified plane before until today.
Morgana turnt in her seat to face them. “Just confess that you and him been f__ing. It's the only explanation for all of this.” The florist teased.
“I just might.” Florence said to herself.
All she told him was that she and three of her friends were coming to his club. This was all a shock to her too.
He was pulling out all the stops and it was another shock when the SUV pulled up to a massive club in the heart of Midtown.
From the street view the party was in full swing with a long line trailing down the sidewalk. A lo fi beat shook the exterior and street, striking one’s curiosity of the place.
“Woah…” Morgana awed.
The dark three story building was illuminated with lights ranging in purple and blue with the title, Euphoria, in bold cursive font on the front. It put clubs in Gotham to shame.
The driver turned the car onto a side street and then pulled into a designated VIP/Valet drop off area. There were two cars ahead being greeted and ushered into the club.
The driver whispered something into his suit sleeve and Barbara’s former Batgirl instincts bristled.
Her green eyes darted to the side door that was blocked by a heavyweight bouncer who intercepted the driver’s message. Even though she was disabled didn’t mean she didn’t have her wit about her.
This was top level security for just an average nightclub.
“Did this.. client of yours ever tell you what he did for a living Flo?” She asked. Her question would have to wait because the SUV door was yanked open from the outside.
“Welcome to Euphoria ladies.”
It didn’t matter who said it, everyone knew to exit the car. Barbara grumbled to herself and decided to keep her eyes open for the night until she got answers.
Entering the club was like stepping into another dimension.
The spotlights matched the ones outside, purple and blue, and the entire place was rather cool despite the large crowd of swaying bodies out on the dancefloor. The floors were some kind of marble and it absorbed the shock of the many heels clicking on it. Fog machines kept the atmosphere mysterious and three long bars at the front of the establishment were pumping out drinks by the hundreds.
Everything moved in sync yet nothing was overbearing.
The first few minutes after arriving to a club were awkward. You had to get your bearings of the place, fall in love with the music, etc.
Morgana pointed out a row of tables off to the side and suggested setting up base there to start off the night. Along the way Barbara was scooping out exit points and other key information, a habit Batman ingrained in her mind. You followed along eyeing the crowd in intrigue.
Florence was over the moon. Her body was already moving to the beat all the way to the table.
Ironic how this one offered a clear view of the exits and the dance floor. Barbara approved of Morgana’s choice. Everyone got situated and decided on ordering a round of drinks. You were officially assigned as the DD however you protested that unanimous decision.
“No one is driving! An entire private plane is taking us home!” You shouted over the music.
“Doesn’t matter!” The trio shouted back. You sunk into your seat dejected yet still with a smile on your face.
A round of drinks turned into several and before you knew it, girl’s night was at its peak. Everyone was loose but had yet to venture out onto the dance floor. The current song drew to a close courtesy of the live DJ who hyped up the crowd and introduced a new but familiar beat to the crowd.
You locked eyes with Florence and the spark was kinetic.
“I know this ain’t what I think it is!” She hollered. You shimmied your shoulders along to the intro. “Yessssss it is!” The two of you were scrambling to your feet when you heard Barbara shout.
“Go have fun, we’ll be right here!” She and Morgana shared a laugh when Florence all but dragged you to the dance floor.
By then the song was playing into the chorus and the two of you immediately stole the attention of nearby onlookers with your moves.
The beat was pulsing through your veins and any lingering thoughts about your dress, or Joker, hell even Two Face wanting you dead, quickly evaporated.
I’m just here for the touch and the rush.. Don’t wanna make it better.. Don’t wanna make it better..
The lyrics spoke to you personally. Florence must’ve felt the same since she twirled around you in an impromptu dance routine the two of you performed with purpose.
It brought you back to Friday nights back in high school when Flo snuck you out of your parent’s home to a football game after party or wherever the music was jumping that night. The two of you were from completely different cliques. You from the poetry club and she the stereotypical cheerleader but on the dance floor, you moved as one. Music formed the friendship you had with her today.
So it was safe to say personal space was non-existent between you two.
You and Florence suddenly faced each other, lips nearly touching to sing the lyrics to the song.
Girl, leave your ex on read! Don’t get in your head….
Whistles erupted from the crowd at the tease but you paid them no mind as you whipped around to slowly grind down Florence’s front.
Her hands guided you down as she held a note. All eyes were on the two of you when you began to throw it back on Flo.
The Haitian even smacked your behind for fun and giggles, much to the crowd’s delight.
Morgana choked on her drink and Barbara cackled at her friend’s reaction. “They’re really getting into it tonight.” Morgana commented.
She watched the both of you grind on each other when the second verse came and went. It was hot to watch yet it fit the atmosphere in the room. There was a break in the scene when you tripped up a bit when Flo spun you around too fast.
People were too drunk to notice anyways.
The song began to fade out but Morgana still kept an eye on you and Florence, unable to look away.
“Yeah they are.. I’m glad we all came. So! Let’s talk about you! How’s that new storefront coming along?” Barbara asked.
The crowd broke out in cheers once the DJ transitioned the song into another popular hit.
The second their eyes shifted away, Florence felt a tap on her shoulder. She smiled at the newcomer and shouted something in your direction. You were letting the music control you and didn’t hear.
The R&B soul beat was strong and it swiftly guided you through the motions. Nothing else mattered. You drowned out all background noise except for the music.
Men and women came and went trying to dance on you after Florence left but they were scared away by an individual keeping an eye on you. Someone had to. You were too lost in the moment and none the wiser to be aware of your surroundings.
But one guy was brave enough and stepped forward.
Usually, you only let Florence dance with you but the person behind you could be an exception to the rule. The body felt familiar somehow so you allowed it.
Someone must’ve dimmed the nights because the shadows grew and cloaked your new dancing partner with an air of mystery.
At first their hands rested on your hips but they grew embolden and slid up the front of your dress to your breasts. If the music wasn’t lowering your inhibitions (you did drink a bit, much to everyone's shock) you still wouldn’t have told them to stop once you felt their lips on your neck. It just felt too good.
You tipped your head back onto their shoulder and whined your hips harder on theirs.
You earned a deep satisfied groan for your efforts. The hand fondling your body snaked up to your neck like a custom necklace and the thrill of it resting there had you moaning out loud too.
“I wonder… If I weren’t here, would you let any man touch you like this, Bunny?” You paid no mind to the voice but the nickname they used had your eyes blinking open in shock.
You tried to turn around but the hand on your neck squeezed in warning. “Don’t. Stop. Now. Keep being a slut and work those hips of yours. Noooo one has to know you’ve been naughty.. ‘cept me.”
Joker chuckled in your ear before biting down hard on your neck.
You cried out in pain. The current song’s bass drowned it out instantly.
His hand bunched the fabric of your dress up and he growled on your skin when he found you bare for him. You tensed up at the angry notes creeping in your ear.
“No panties Y/n? You flew to another city with no.. Oh. Princess. My dirty f__ing slut. You want me to lose my mind huh? No much left of it buuuuut. Why else would you be naked underneath this dress hmm?”
Joker kept up appearances and swayed with your body although you hardly cared. All of your senses were on Joker behind you.
Your brain failed to form sentences. “I-I that’s not..”
You didn’t want any panty lines in your dress so you went commando. He’d flip his ish when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra either but screw all of that.
You were still in shock as to how he got here. Once again you tried to turn around but Joker was always thinking two steps ahead of you.
Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of Joker’s fingers rubbing your clit right there on the dance floor.
Your hips bucked involuntarily trying to run away from the assault but Joker pushed you back flush to his body. Your jaw hit the floor in disbelief when he rubbed even faster.
It felt wrong yet so right even as you locked eyes with a girl from across the way.
The dim lights reflected off her dyed hair. She winked at you, almost as if she knew what Joker was doing, and your cheeks burned in shame. You looked away but it didn’t help relieve the pleasure Joker was giving you.
“Joker.. stop. This isn’t right..” You glanced at the table where Barbara and Morgana sat but found it empty.
A wave of fear washed over you. Where did they go? Maybe that was what Florence was trying to tell you before she disappeared.
You were snatched from your thoughts by Joker inserting a finger inside. “Your lips are tellin me to stop but she’s begging me to keep going.”
Both of you felt how wet you were. You were practically dripping with arousal. It confirmed Joker’s teasing.
Your body was working against you and it didn’t take long for a knot to build just beneath your navel.
It was amplified by being out in the open. An energetic couple danced into your line of vision, blissfully unaware you were seconds away from coming. “Go on. Do. It.” Joker cajoled in your ear.
Right as you were about to let go, Joker and his touch disappeared. You pitched forward until another pair of hands caught you.
“Girl?! What are you doing!? Florence’s friend invited us to the private lounge upstairs.” Morgana noticed your shaky legs and flushed cheeks and raised an eyebrow.
You probably looked a hot mess under the flashing lights.
“S-Sorry I ah.. ahem. Lead the way.” You pulled your dress back down to its original length and cleared your throat.
She didn’t say anything but dragged you to the elevators where Barbara was waiting.
“Took you two long enough.” The redhead mashed the button to call the elevator and discreetly eyed your dazed state.
She glanced at Morgana who simply shrugged.
The three of you rode the lift to the second floor that overlooked the sea of moving bodies down below.
Only a plane of glass separated you from the crowd below. It felt like a completely different club up here. There was another dance floor up here that was flanked by plush couches and tables with important looking people and their entrange sprinkled about.
The same music from downstairs was playing and people were dancing to it but you could carry on a conversation up here and not have to scream in someone’s ear to hear them.
Off to the side of the room was an iron spiral staircase leading up into the unknown.
The level above was devoid of light and you surmised shady business was handled therein. You hoped Florence’s client wasn’t waiting for everyone up there.
Thankfully an attractive man dressed in an all black suit approached your trio. “You girls with Florence?”
He eyed the group’s outfits, lingering much longer on Morgana’s dress and she definitely noticed.
“Yeah. Wanna show us the way?” She leaned forward so he could see the valley of cleavage she sported.
Barbara smacked her forehead at the flirtatious reply. Typical Morgana to flirt with a stranger.
Maybe that’s why her business was so successful?
He grinned and waved everyone over to a booth. The lights were dimmer on this floor, almost completely dark, so you had to squint to see Florence’s feathery sleeves wrapped around someone at the table.
A guy sat in the middle with your friend practically in his lap with a blonde African female on his left, who smiled in greeting when the three of you showed up.
Florence was still laughing at whatever that was said but stopped when she saw her friends.
“There y’all are! I told Y/n we were invited up to VIP like, thirty minutes ago!” Everyone stared at you with disappointment but your mind was elsewhere.
Flo paid it no mind and continued. “Barbara, Morgana, Y/n, I’d like you to meet my client….”
He acknowledged the others before locking eyes with you. One subtle shake of his head told you everything.
Florence didn’t know she was sitting on one of Joker’s henchmen's lap. It felt like someone shoved your head underwater. Joker was here; Neo’s smug grin confirmed it.
You didn’t hallucinate your stolen orgasm downstairs. Joker traveled over nine hundred miles just to mess with you.
You didn’t know whether to be concerned or flattered.
“.. and that’s Iris. She’s his assistant. Which means she’s the secret assassin bodyguard. Ooh! Y/n you should interview her for inspiration for one of your books!”
Florence was just babbling at this point. Iris stood to give Morgana her seat but not before whispering in Neo’s ear.
Both of them glanced at you and she walked off with a knowing smile. Barbara noticed the exchange but without any context she couldn’t pry.
She parked her wheelchair in front of the table and struck up a conversation with Neo that Morgana soon joined. It was time she got some answers.
Which left you sliding into the booth next to Florence who quickly slung her arm around your shoulders.
The beautician was intoxicated at this point although she was nowhere near her goal of being drunkity drunk. Whatever that meant. You refused to carry her tonight if that was her goal.
“B__ch ain’t he fine? Like tall, dark and handsome, reeking of BDE, fine? I might stay the night and get some of that Georgia peach’s dick.”
You didn’t have the heart to tell Florence that Neo lived in Gotham City but nodded along regardless.
Flo thought she whispered this to you but judging by Barbara stuttering mid sentence, unfortunately it was said too loud.
The redhead eyed the two of you with a mother-like glare. Strike one. She resumed her discussion with Neo like nothing happened. He paused to wink at Florence.
Only Barb would talk business and acquisitions in a club with the owner. Morgana was no better; she was serious when asking Neo what the margins were like for running Euphoria.
And you were the sober one.
You sighed before responding. “Y-Yeah.. sure he’s hot and you did an amazing job with his braids, might I add. You are dressed to get laid so..” You gestured at her see through attire as if held the answer.
She laughed, “True, true. And I did go crazy on his hair design.” A waiter walked by and she flagged him down to order a drink. “Can I–”
“Hold on Mama, you’re with me.” Neo stopped Florence from ordering and locked eyes with the waiter. “Bottle service. Top shelf my man.”
He kissed Florence’s cheek and she melted in her seat.
"That aight with y’all?” Neo asked the table. Everyone was in agreement until Florence scoffed. “Y/n doesn’t drink!”
You and Barbara just sighed. Did she forget you drank with her and the girls downstairs?
Neo’s light brown eyes flickered over to you. And so the staring match began. You and Neo weren’t on good terms. Not since he waved a gun in your face outside of Luigi’s pizza.
You tolerated Frost the most out of Joker’s trusted three and that said something. His driving skills still horrified you. Neo reeked of arrogance. You weren’t a fan.
“Is that so? I can order you some juice… water. Some warm milk?”
Morgana snorted at the joke. “That’s not necessary. She drank a (insert fav drink) just a while ago. Florence just can’t remember cuz she’s too drunk. Isn’t that right, Y/n/n?”
“Y/n/n?” Neo repeated sarcastically.
Barbara noticed your annoyed eye roll and elaborated. “It's an inside joke between us four. She hates it although it suits her well.”
She then launched into the story behind your nickname with Morgana adding funny details along the way.
Neo nodded along, learning more about you. In between the story, the waiter returned with two chilled bottles sitting in a bucket of ice with five champagne glasses, the extra one holding lit sparklers. Your order was placed during the grand spectacle.
Other tables looked over at the lively service in intrigue.
Neo popped the bottles open and dutifully filled three glasses for your friends before pouring his own. Cheers were being made but someone tapped your shoulder and stole your attention.
You were about to thank the waiter for bringing your drink when you locked eyes with green.
Joker was bold. He looked like an average employee, holding a serving tray. “Your drink, miss.”
Your eyes flickered to his lips stressing the syllables only to find that he wasn’t wearing a mask. You were flabbergasted. It was dark but not enough for him to walk around so exposed!
“Y/n, do you know him or something? He look familiar.” You wiped your head around to face Florence.
She sipped on her flute of champagne eyeing Joker pensively.
Neo was too busy staring at her body but he glanced at his boss in shock after hearing her words. Florence was getting too curious about Joker and soon, so would Barbara and Morgana.
He was cloaked in darkness but that would only do so much against a native Gothamite. If anyone could identify a wanted criminal it was a suspicious black woman.
Joker narrowed his eyes at Neo.
It issued a silent order, one that Neo quickly translated, since he moved to distract his date faster than the Flash on crack.
“Florence baby, you wanna dance a bit?” He suggested.
She readily agreed and off they went to the dancefloor. Crisis avoided. Thank goodness she was drunk.
You exhaled but remembered you weren’t alone.
At the same time that Florence got curious, Morgana had caught the eye of a man from a different table and proceeded to flirt over the rim of her champagne glass. Barbara was preoccupied with texting on her phone.
You would bet twenty dollars she was texting Grayson. That or she was using her phone as a mobile access point to her PC back in Gotham. Either way, no one was paying attention to you.
And Joker took advantage of that.
He set your drink on the glass table and whispered in your ear while doing so. “Go up the spiral stairs in five minutes. Second door and, uh, don’t keep me waiting.”
With that said, he was gone, blending in with the club’s shadows.
Play it off Y/n. Don’t make it too obvious. You told yourself.
You nursed your drink and scanned the room in fake interest while counting down the minutes. More people were on the dance floor and the vibe was slowly matching the one on the floor below.
Morgana left the table to talk directly to her crush and Barbara was nodding her head to the music, practicing glued to her phone.
The low glow from it highlighted her amused grin. She was definitely texting Dick.
“Hey.. uh. I’ll be right back.” You said in her direction.
“Yeah sure.”
She didn’t spare you a glance and you didn’t waste any time making your escape. You grabbed your clutch and dipped. It felt like the entire floor was watching you rush up the stairs yet you made it there with no issues.
True to his word there was a hallway up here lined with doors. Joker mentioned the second, so you approached it cautiously.
Inside was dark but you could tell it was a finance office of sorts. An ornate desk sat in the center and you walked up to it. The surface was cool to the touch and dust free.
The door clicking shut behind you made you drop your clutch on the floor. Before you could panic, warm hands held you close. You knew these arms.
“Joker! What— seriously you gotta stop scaring me! And have you lost your mind?”
He turned you around to face him and looked up at the ceiling, thinking it over. “Yes.”
You frowned. “That’s not what I meant. Did you really follow me to Atlanta? What if someone sees—”
He cut you off with a kiss. It quickly turned heated and you soon lost track of what you were upset about. His hands roamed your body in reverence and made you dizzy.
“You didn’t get to.. ahh cum downstairs. Are ya up for it now?” He asked while licking your pulse.
How could you forget? You thought you imagined it since it happened so abruptly.
“Seriously? Now?” He seared a yes on your skin and tried pushing your dress up but your hands stopped him halfway. He groaned in defeat and rocked his hips into yours instead.
You were shocked by his sense of urgency. “Joker, quit it! Someone will hear us!”
“Hear what? Hmm? The sounds of you screaming my name or.. the musiC?” Right as he said that, someone turned up the volume.
The crowd shouted their thanks and you had no further excuses to use. His words made your face hot. Just how much control did he have here?
“Dress. Off.” Joker ordered. Apparently more than what you were expecting.
The clicking sound of a switchblade echoed in the room. “Or I’ll cut it off. Looks expensive too.” Joker licked his scars eyeing your designer dress.
You knew Joker wasn’t one for empty threats.
You pouted and turned around to present your zipper to him. His deep hum of approval caused more slick to run down your thigh and you rubbed them together hoping he wouldn’t notice.
“Sooo.. needy.”
Of course he noticed. Nothing got past Joker.
The sharp sting of the blade nicking your skin was your only warning before he cut your dress off. You hunched forward clutching the ruined fabric to your chest in shock.
“Ahttt aht ttt. I said take it off, not show me your a** no matter how sexy it is. No bra either? Tsk tsk.” He smacked your behind causing you to yelp.
Suddenly Joker was hot and heavy against your back.
“You gonna be my good girl, Y/n? There’s still time to..” He reached around and cupped your pussy. “Well. Someone is sopping wet. Does this excite you Bunny?” He circled his thumb on your clit.
He already knew the answer. Joker didn’t bother locking the door and anyone could walk in and see your body giving in to his control over it.
You were panting and struggling to keep yourself upright. Your nipples had already hardened to stiff peaks and you were a mess even though Joker had yet to do anything serious.
He was right though. The fear, the overall excitement of being caught, had you wetter than you’ve ever been. The pleasure he created made you lightheaded and the sensation spurred you on.
“I wanna be your good girl.” You gasped. He repeated your sentiment right back into your ear, mocking you for no reason only because he could.
“Yeah? You do? Well good girls don’t leave the house without panties or a bra. Goood girls aren’t uh.. greedy sluts in public.” He slipped a finger inside your pussy, growling at the lack of resistance. “They saw you chasing that high doll. Out on the dance floor. You were so close.. They wanted you to let go. To feel that high. That. Rush. I want you to let go. Right. Now. Can you? For meee? Let go, c’mon on. Do iT.”
Joker pumped his fingers faster into you as he talked you through it. His unique voice guiding you was the perfect accelerant to throw you over the edge.
He was notorious for his grand speeches. The way he carefully articulated his words and captivated an audience was riveting. Too bad your head was so far in the clouds you barely understood a single word.
A string of yes’s tumbled from your lips as you came on Joker’s fingers.
His right hand rested atop yours on the desk and prevented your nails from clawing into its wood finish.
The pleasure washed over you leaving your ears ringing. You tried to regulate your breathing but it was all too much.
The music playing in the other room was just buzzing noise in your ear. You weren’t a good girl. Even after coming you ached for more. You wanted Joker.
And he knew your body better than yourself.
“Shhhh shhh. I know. It’s never enough.” You whimpered as he turned you around to prop you up on the desk.
His hands came up to cradle your head as he devoured your lips. Joker always made you feel small in his arms. And when you parted lips and gazed into juniper eyes you knew he wanted you to completely submit to him.
Giving that much of yourself was like a drug to him.
Joker looked high off the idea alone. When he backed away you reached out for him.
He said nothing as he rounded the desk and sat down in the big executive chair. You looked over your shoulder at him, a question already forming on your tongue.
With a lone finger he ordered you to come closer.
The desk was oddly bare but it worked in your favor for what you were about to do.
It was awkward at first since you still wore your heels and nothing else, but you slowly crawled over the desk to face Joker. He looked every bit the Prince of Crime seated on his throne. All that was missing was his—
“Sit on my lap Princess.”
The gap between the table and his lap was scary but Joker was right there to catch you.
There was power alluding from his body as you sat completely bare on his clothed lap. You ran your hands against the dark fabric of his chest.
He was wearing a suit but not his signature one. This one was designer and oozing with dominance. Another perfect disguise for him to do what he wanted. It made you squirm in anticipation. You went about unbuttoning the black dress shirt but faced backlash.
“Did I tell you to undress me?” He asked. You shook your head. “Then don’T.”
Joker’s hands slid up and down your back mapping out your dips and curves while kneading your backside. You braced for the sting that never came. Instead he struck you elsewhere.
His teeth sank into your neck and you keened sharply.
He let go with a wet pop. “Too much? Orrr? Not enough?”
You fisted his shirt and choked out a sob.
Joker eyed you hungrily and reached over to flick the table lamp on to see you fully. The area was bathed in warm gold and Joker finally got to see his long awaited treat.
“Look… at you Bunny.” His thumb swiped at the stubborn red adorning your lips. Something about you completely nude with his shade of red on, sent him into a state.
You didn’t know what had gotten into Joker but he declared no more words were needed and quickly unzipped his fly to free himself.
He didn’t bother removing his pants all the way; they were hastily shoved to his knees before he hovered you above his aching cock.
Harsh pants were shared in the small space between your lips and Joker’s. He interpreted your gentle nod as permission to continue.
Your eyes locked with his lust blown green and your jaw slackened as the slow stretch stole your breath away.
“Oh my god.”
“That ain’t my name bunny but mmm. Close enough.” He pushed you down until you were flush with his hips. You cried out at the fullness. Joker wrapped his arms around you when he felt you shivering.
He wasn’t any better. It made no sense how tight you were. He tipped his head back laughing to keep from whining like some virgin schoolboy. It took all of his willpower not to ravish your body for his own pleasure. Instead, Joker rocked your hips back and forth, churning his dick in your insides as payback for making him feel so weak.
Your voice got caught in your throat after a rough buck of his hips. “Jo—ker!”
“That’ssss it. That’s my name.” Joker buried his head on your shoulder, biting down on it to stifle his moan.
What soon followed was straight out of a fever dream.
If anyone dared to venture up the spiral staircase the distinctive sound of sex would greet them. You let each and every pornographic moan rip from your throat in the throes of ecstasy.
Joker didn’t hold back his strength and slammed you down on his cock and teased you in between his own heavy pants.
He praised you for being so tight, scolded you for being a greedy slut, for always running away, don’t ever run from him was pounded deep into your pussy.
He laughed at you when your eyes rolled back into your skull and slapped your face to force your eyes back on him in the same millisecond.
Your eye makeup was ruined but Joker’s line of sight was trained on your pristine red lips moving a mile a minute.
You didn’t know what you were saying. “P-Please please oh hmph.. Please!”
It was just mindless nonsense in the wave of pleasure consuming your senses. Yet Joker was always attentive.
“Whatcha begging for, Bunny? Breathe n’ tell meee.” He growled and grabbed a handful of your hair.
The sharp pain had you staring at him with watery eyes and a pouty lip. Joker never seen a more prettier sight.
You didn’t know what you wanted. It was all too much for his pathetic bunny. Joker’s grin was horrifying in the limited light in the room yet it was the most beautiful sight to you. Your eyes watered up even more.
“Shush shush Y/n. You ahh.. you knooow.. I hate it. I hate when you cry. Mhm. It. Drives. Me. Crazy.”
Each word was pounded into you as Joker finally snapped.
He secured a bruising grip on your hips and rose to his feet. You felt weightless for a spell until the cool surface of the desk hit your back. You arched away from it but Joker’s sweltering body forced you back down. There was nowhere to go and Joker’s shoulders were your only anchor to Earth. All you had to do was keep your legs pulled back and accept the brutal f__k Joker subjected you to.
He groaned uncontrollably and picked up the pace.
You were uncertain if it was the new angle or simply the level of intensity Joker pounded your pussy with but the moment he shifted and started bullying your g spot, you were done. He knew you were close by the strength you used to push at his shoulders.
Always running away… but not this time.
“Aww right there? C’mon doll, give it to me, give it to me.” Joker mumbled under his breath. He held your head still and grinned down at your pain stricken face each delicious time the tip of his dick hit your sweet spot. “You can do iT..”
Your lips, stained his signature red, opened in a silent scream as the final cusp of pleasure tipped you over into the nether.
Joker hissed at the death grip your pussy had on his dick. He managed to fight through it although he was seconds from coming undone too.
He didn’t know why he kept talking; you wouldn’t understand a thing. It was mostly done to chase his own high.
“Your pussy is gonna take everything I give her, mkay? T-Take everything I give you Bunny.” Maybe it was best that you couldn’t hear.
Joker was lost in pleasure, he sounded so unlike himself in that moment.
The things you did to him. He’d endure the feeling of being pulled apart one piece at a time only to be forcefully slammed back together again any day with you. He grabbed the edge of the desk and let the last few thrusts into your worn pussy echo loudly in the room.
Only then was it quiet.
                                    — — — — — HL — — — — —
It took a while for Joker to get his bearings straight. Every time he had sex with you it got better than before.
You were turning him into a drug addict with you being the most refined drug to grace the Earth. Joker relocated you back into his lap and sat back down in the office chair. You were sound asleep, cuddled up to his dress shirt and shivering from the cold, not arousal.
He drew a breath and raked a hand through his hair, thinking of how to get you out of here without any clothes.
Cutting your dress seemed hot in the heat of the moment but now he eyed the ruined fabric on the floor with a grimace. He refused anyone seeing you in such a state and yet he couldn’t resist destroying any and all barriers between him and your body during sex.
Your beauty was for Joker’s eyes only, yet there was an entire two floor’s worth of people separating you from the exit.
He was forming a plan in his head when a series of beeps rang from your phone.
Oddly enough your clutch, and subsequently, your phone survived the fall to the floor and landed near the desk. Joker didn’t have to reach far to grab it.
He didn’t know your passcode yet but thankfully you enabled messages to be visible from the lock screen. There were a slew of other notifications mixed in with a few missed calls.
The most recent notification were concerned texts from your friends.
If Joker remembered correctly Florence was the girl you danced with earlier. She was very outspoken and… confident. Her sheer covering, (Joker refused to call it a dress) was eye-catching but she wasn’t his type.
Joker liked you and only you. Awkward and skittish Y/n. He grumbled at his soft thoughts and read your text messages.
‘B__h wtf?’ Sent from Florence.
Exactly two minutes later Barbara, the Commissioner’s daughter, Joker said sarcastically to himself, sent a message.
‘where r u hello? Y/n/n seriously you said you’d be right back’
Morgana chimed in instantly. ‘$100 she’s getting some!’
Joker smirked at that. She wasn’t wrong and he liked bets but he continued to read. He watched as the funny check-ins turned into serious concern. They already searched the first floor and came up empty and the most recent message from your friend Flo read as follows.
‘this isn’t funny Y/n I asked Neo to look for you
Joker sighed. It was posted seven minutes ago which meant his henchmen was making his way up here soon.
Joker glanced at the time on your cell before settling his eyes on you tuckered out on his chest. You’d hate him later for it but his thumbs were already holding down the blue bubble and typing out a response.
Y/n: 😏👌🏾👉🏾🍆
Immediately three messages popped up simultaneously. He read them in order, Florence being the first.
‘whore! Lead with that next time ugh I swear!
Your florist friend was next with her priorities in order.
‘Run me my money!! Cashapp me’
Barbara seemed to be the most responsible of the group. Her strict upbringing no doubt at play.
‘Ok seriously don’t scare us like that Y/n. Morgana is flying back with me. Flo, can you make sure Y/n gets back to Gotham safely? The club is closing in the nxt hour’
Euphoria’s public hours were nine pm to three in the morning. But those hours didn’t phase Joker when he was the owner. Neo just ran things legally.
Although the base of operations was in Gotham City, Joker took pride in being a national threat. In every major city he had a sector with enough influence to be respected but not as large as his reputation in Gotham.
He took great pride in being feared across the country. A new message chimed in and his eyes flickered down to read it.
‘uh uh get someone else to do it, I gotta get mines 🤪🍆’
He liked this Florence gal. He knew any sensible man wouldn’t leave her company and that meant Neo wouldn’t come sniffing around where he didn’t belong.
The noise level had greatly diminished as the closing hour approached. Joker decided to wait until the club closed to the public before searching for some clothes for you.
You mumbled something in your sleep and he took pity on the goosebumps rising on your dark skin.
He wasn’t getting soft. Honestly he wasn’t.
His discarded suit jacket would have to do for the next forty five minutes to keep you warm. It practically swallowed your frame with how small you were.
Joker brushed a curl away so he could see your face better. You were curled up in his arms with his red lipstick highlighting the small smile on your face even as you slept.  
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hey-adora · 6 days
fandom/feelings vent i just really wanted out of my system, seriously not targeted at any one person or thing:
there are few things that make me more uncomfortably aware of my attachment issues than seeing multishipping or polyshipping of fictional pairings i really care about. i think because i put so much of myself into writing about fictional relationships, and one of my greatest fears in a relationship would be my partner wanting to be open, it’s an understandable but not *valid* emotional response. but still, i live in my head, and have to manage it. it sucks.
like, i’ve drafted this post several times. i love fandom culture and shipping communities, and it sucks that a very present thing in those spaces is such a ridiculous sore spot for me. i feel like i’m less able to support people making cool things, who enjoy the same stories i enjoy.
i never want to degrade the comfort and importance stories and relationships like these have in people’s lives. i love creating things that are close to my heart, and the reasons i care about these characters and ships are roughly the same as anyone else’s.
but it’s really bad, man, the way this stuff gets to me. like, i’m sorry to overshare, but the idea of a ship i really care about being open legitimately makes me feel like a cornered prey animal. trouble breathing, tearing up, can’t focus on anything else, heart beating fast. i understand that this is not a normal response to such an inconsequential and somewhat avoidable stimulus. while i’m not about to share the reasons why i have this trigger, i can assure you they make sense as a source of trauma. the problem is that my irrational trauma response is not a valid equivalent to moral disgust or discomfort, and it’s really frustrating that i can’t just be neutral.
rationally, i know it’s all projection, and has nothing to do with these fictional characters or stories, or the people making fan content. but i also can’t deny the very real way my body physically reacts to even the notion of non-monogamy in relationships i care about.
and i’m not just talking fandom stuff here, i live in a city where more than half of the queer people my age seem to self-identify as ethically non-monogamous or poly. both in fandom and real life queer spaces, it’s almost like i’m missing out on the party because the way a lot of people like to party makes me feel profoundly trapped, powerless, betrayed, insulted, and abandoned, which are all feelings i do not handle well.
more than anything, i just wish i could be normal about this very present facet of fandom/shipping culture and even enjoy it on occasion. when it’s not like my “otp” or whatever i really don’t mind at all. i guess i just see so much almost aggressive positivity about like “character has two hands” memes and stuff like that, where it almost makes me feel like a bad person for needing monogamy for a fictional or real-life relationship to feel safe. and while i do believe open-mindedness should be a core tenant of social spaces, i also feel alone with these rotten feelings, and i can’t really channel them creatively in a way that wouldn’t just upset me or make other people feel bad.
there is no point to this post really, just kind of wondering if anyone has felt this way/has advice beyond the obvious and very valid basics like “only interact with content you want to see,” and “what works for some people does not have to work for you, and vice versa.” i seriously have no judgment of fandom friends multishipping or polyshipping, or the idea of those relationships themselves. mostly, the presence of those ideas just cause me an irrational amount of discomfort because of past experiences, and i wish i could fix that part of myself. not saying i ever want to be poly or write those kinds of stories, but not being embarrassingly triggered would be a great first step. and i guess ultimately it would just be nice to feel a little less alone about having this problem.
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When you start the adult life and go to work or get in a college you are goning to be friends with people who are like 30 year more old than you lol or have a really big age gap. I feel lots od those father-child dynamics comes from people who are too young and I know it but bothers me A LOT. That implies the only interaction and ADULT can have with other ADULT IS TO BE FATHER/CHILD ONE AND I HATE THAT, being atracted to others adults is fine yo.
No yeah this is definitely an element of it LMAO, I do think a lot of people (including a lot of adults on here lmao) act like you can only really have friends within ur "age group" which obviously isn't true lol. While I generally tend to have more "in common" with people roughly "within my age group" (late teens/early 20s), this doesn't mean that I can't be friends with people older OR younger than me (including "snot-nosed minors" btw, kids are people! Hang out with them!). I also think there's a tendency Within Fandom(tm) to look at characters as only being able to have two kinds of relationships - "sexual and/or romantic" or "found family". Honestly you kinda demonstrate this here by capping off with "being attracted to other adults is fine", even though I talked about shipping almost nowhere in the original ask. When you approach characters with "romantic shipping" being your main mode of relationship interpretation, you might feel uncomfortable applying that to a younger adult and an older adult (let the record show that I don't think shipping Scout tf2, adult man cartoon character, with his older cartoon coworkers is Morally Wrong or Gross or anything, I just understand that this is a perspective that some people have). However it does kinda suck if the only alternative to "romantic relationship" is "father/son-esque relationship with literally zero possibility of romance ever". Sometimes people are just friends! I'm not one of these people who has like some agenda against Shipping Culture(tm) or thinks it's Inherently Destructive or anything, like obviously I love shipping! But I think that "friends" is a perfectly viable and reasonable dynamic to give two characters, there are more kinds of human relationships than "romantic partners" and "parents and children (or the 'found family' equivalents to 'parents and children')"
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sullina · 3 months
Rewatched httyd the hidden world today and ehile it is visually stunning, i still hate how toothless was written in that movie, he acts like Hiccup purposely denied him love for whatever reason, but it was literally never ever indicated in any way whatsoever that toothless WANTED love! Why does toothless act like he's jacked up on fucking pheromones or something the moment he met the lightfury???
And in the end, he leaves his best friend, no, SOULMATE, for a dragon he's known for like a week????
Hiccup sending the dragons away bc of safety is the equivalent of moving away bc some weeds popped up in your garden after you've already lived in it for 10 years. Plus, if Berk was getting overloaded with dragons, which was Hiccups main mistake here, then literally just spread them out? Make branch villages from Berk? Just bc Toothless is the alpha doesn't mean that the dragons can't survive away from him. Both tv shows show every single episode that dragons don't need an alpha to live. Hell, some dragons even live entirely on their own!
And the lightfury is pretty at first glance, but when you think about it, what's actually the deal with her? Oh, she can camouflage herself, but that's it, what else can she do as a lightfury? And how did Toothless himself not know he could do the same with lightning? How did he not know he could *summon* lightning???? He's the last nightfury, okay, but he also had to have had parent dragons, right? It's possible they were killed when he was still an egg, but if Grimel is supposedly the "best dragon hunter", how did he miss that two night furies had an egg? Especially considering he knew that furies supposedly bond for life. Wouldn't he know when furies lay eggs too? Bitch.
The ending also doesn't make sense when you consider that Grimel is supposedly dead. He fell into the ocean from a deadly height, as far as Hiccup is concerned, he's dead, he was the biggest threat Berk had faced, he was defeated, and *now* Hiccup sends the dragons away? Bitch, you don't move out *after* you get rid of the weeds!
"There'll always be other hunters" so? They had to deal with hunters since they made peace with the dragons, why is it suddenly so bad after DEFEATING Grimel???
And don't even get me started on "we don't deserve you, not yet" bitch huh??? Every single berkian LOVED their dragon, it was very much a mutually wanted relationship, at least it's never been shown to be anything else!
And the "you gave him his freedom, what did you expect?" Hiccup and Toothless have been together for roughly 10 years, and he first time Hiccup made a tail that Toothless could fly on his own with, Toothless destroyed it, because he *didn't want to fly if it wasn't with Hiccup*. If Toothless was so desperate for a mate, he could've flown off right then! And he also could've stayed without destroying the tail fin and just flown with Hiccup without having Hiccup control the tail! That part is just a huge hole in the entire story!
And Toothless never would've gone after the light fury without Hiccup, he would've dragged that boy down the cliffside in his mouth if he had to! You're telling me that Toothless is just gonna regress to a horny idiot shot with pheromones just bc of "love"? Sorry, but i don't buy it. Hiccup is literally the most important person in Toothless' entire life and you cannot tell me otherwise.
And if the lightfury came around on Berk in the end, there's no reason she couldn't have stayed with Berk and helped defend it from any potential future hunters!
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