#I don’t need to add anything else this writes itself

[stucky-fic-prompt]

[clarenecessities]

He-man.org will close in 5 days.

He-man.org has been a staple of the Masters of the Universe community since the early days, originating as an email list that worked to document episodes before anything (not footage, not lists, nothing) was available online. It grew into a sprawling, multi-faceted beast of a thing, including an encyclopedia (an in-house wiki), merch lists, a marketplace, forums, anything you could think of.

Several years ago now, the main site went down for updates/maintenance. For a few weeks, we were told, maybe months. The forums remained open for fans to communicate, and barring a period of downtime earlier this year things were going smoothly.

Yesterday, the owner of the site, Val Staples, announced the site would be closed on November 14th, 2023. Six days later. We are currently attempting to contact him, to see if he’s interested in selling, and if he means closed as in “no new posts” or closed as in deleted entirely. Regardless of its eventual fate, the archiving of these forums is essential to preserving the history of the franchise, the fandom, and the brand.

TO SHE-RA (and MotU) FANS SPECIFICALLY: I have personally used these forums to answer questions that could be answered nowhere else. Had I not had access to them, I would never have been able to prove that Purrsia was fake, or found so much unpublished concept art, or discovered that Scott “Toyguru” Neitlich personally wrote Catra’s MOTUC bio (even if he’s put off answering my questions about it for over a year now). Forum members have conducted interviews with the likes of Jon Seisa, Cathy Larson, Janice Varney-Hamlin—essential figures in the very foundations of POP, and those interviews revealed and recorded priceless information for future generations (me! you! us!) to find. Did you know Cathy Larson named Adora? That she originally pushed for “Dorian”, after her own daughter? We cannot let this treasure trove disappear into the ether(ia).

TO THE UNAFFILIATED: Please help. Pretty please. If you’ve ever liked my art or my writing or my haphazard blogging, ever, at all, consider archiving just one board. Just one page. Literally anything helps. I am spiraling into madness & this is my library of Alexandria. The mythical one that was totally unique and persevered nowhere else and was destroyed in a single cataclysmic event. Pretty pretty please help.

HOW TO HELP:

Archive.org has several ways to upload shit but most of them are longer term than “a few days” so we’re focusing on two (which can be run simultaneously): Save Page Now, and browser extensions. From their help page:

1. Save Page Now

Put a URL into the form, press the button, and we save the page. You will instantly have a permanent URL for your page. Please note, this method only saves a single page, not the whole site.

We want to keep outlinks and screenshots wherever possible. The Archive does not keep your IP address, so your submission is anonymous.

2. Browser extensions and add-ons

Install the Wayback Machine Chrome extension in your browser. Go to a page you want to archive, click the icon in your toolbar, and select Save Page Now. We will save the page and give you a permanent URL.

One plus to installing the extension is that as you surf around, when you run into a missing page they will alert you if we have a saved copy.

More extensions, apps, and add-ons:

Firefox add-on

Safari Extension

iOS app

Android app

I strongly encourage you to use these tools even if you aren’t helping with this project/after it ends. Documenting and preserving information is essential in this day and age & The Internet Archive is at the heart of it. Please support them however you can.

I’m serious about paying you, though I may need more communication with folks I don’t know so we can coordinate/verify shit gets done. I think this is a worthwhile pursuit in itself but I recognize your time is valuable & like, people gotta eat. DM me if you’re interested and we’ll talk. I may need to adjust pay depending how many people bite but I’ll do what I can

[urprettylittlething]

What happens when Cursed Kitty starts bugging Gojo and Gets to let her leave outside? Do they punish her or do they just give in?

-🥟

Thank you so much for this request, I'm sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to it but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :’) I tried my best with writing this <33

The Lesson For Never Leaving

≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - I am so so happy to be back, I really hope you all enjoy the content that's to come, and a massive thank you to everyone that's sent in an ask, you've all been so patient with me I love you all so much <333 The poll has voted that these be posted daily so that is what I will be doing :3 Feel free to leave comments either on the post or my inbox, it's really motivating to hear people loving my work <333 I love you all thank you so much <3 and please let me know if I've missed any warnings or spellings, etc. :)

summary - Frustrated and brushed aside, all Kitty wanted to do was go outside.

warnings - Yandere-ness from both of our boys, Spanking, Kitty gets held down, Crying, Kind of harsh, Kitty doesn't really understand what's going on :(, Kinda bratty but she's frustrated and doesn't know how to convey that well, punishment

genre - Oneshot

word count - 1.4k

~spelling and grammar checked~

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

The very first time Kitty asks, the both of them would try and distract her instead. Never really answering her question and trying to occupy her with other things in the hopes that she’ll forget about it. 

The next few times when she asks, she bugs them with whiney tugs on their shirts with mumbles of “Outside?”, all wide eyed and pouty lips. They just end up sighing and telling her something along the lines of, “No, you can’t go outside baby. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?” 

And that works for a little while, but the next time she asks and they tell her no, she gets even more pouty, her brows furrowing before she tries asking again. So in return they get just a little bit firmer with their ‘no’s’ and she droops away while sulking.

So when the next time she asks, doing it with a very firm “Outside!” followed along by a stamp with her little foot, they don’t just tell her ‘no’ anymore. Her harshly furrowed brows and downturned lips gently ease themselves from the angered look and instead start to merge into one of vague terror. Suguru and Satoru have taken it upon themselves to start telling her the ‘tales of horror’ they’ve encountered and witnessed from being outside for too long. 

Making sure to add what would happen to a ‘pretty little innocent kitty’ like herself, getting snatched up and stolen away forever.

All of those stories are enough to scare her away for a good few weeks after the two of them got detailed enough to get her lips wobbling and eyes all blurry with tears while her ears drooped and her tail curled in on itself. They told her it was a bad idea, what they’ve been saying all along and how they wished they didn’t need to tell her this much to get her to listen. Doing it all with exaggerated voices so she’d feel guilty enough that she didn’t listen to them in the first place. Opening up their arms to her while she dived into them, mumbling small ‘sorry’s and ‘I stay’s.

So the next time she asks, they decide that it’s time they should lay it on a little heavier if they really want to get the message through to her about never leaving. It also didn’t help that her attitude for asking has gotten more demanding than anything else.

She’s stubborn when they tell her ‘no’ this time. Stamping her foot repeatedly while nearly shouting “Outside!!”. They try doing their little manipulating tactic again, trying the story about the big bad dangers of going outside but she’s hearing none of it. Cutting off their gentle, if not a little strained, voices with a stern “No!” and just repeating what she had previously been saying.

So the two men share a look. Silent conversation being exchanged between just the two of them while Kitty looks on in confusion and frustration. One of them raises his eyebrow and the other shakes his head, looking a little dejected all the while. 

Of course seeing this from the side-lines and not following along with their little private chat at all, Kitty is taking this as another no. 

Her body is shaking and her tail is puffing up in distress because they’re not listening to her and now they’re ignoring her! 

Her eyes welled up with frustrated tears and a few dribbled down her cheeks, her fists clenched at her sides as she all but yelled, “Hate you!”. The two opposite her froze in shock while she continued her spiel. “Hate! Want outside! I hate!” 

They’re stunned into silence, frozen in disbelief and almost outraged because how dare she. All they are doing is trying to keep her safe, they take care of her, feed her, bathe her, love her. And she hates them? 

Their eyes become almost lax, losing the little spark of light that one would normally see. Overcast and dark is how they’re portrayed. Knuckles white and strained from where they’re clutching at different parts of the kitchen counter, where they’d all been during this entire exchange. 

Kitty begins losing her flare little by little until it's practically erased like it had never existed in the first place. Except it had, because the two in front of her are the direct result of her harsh words. And they’re scaring her. Brooding and menacing and she’s shaking where she stands. Tail drooping and curling around her lower leg, ears flattened and eyes big and rounded. Tears no longer falling but instead are caught up in her lashes.

It’s only when one murmurs something along the lines of a punishment, the other agreeing, does she try to turn tail and run. But Satoru had already caught her before she even really began running. He half drags, half carries her down the hall and to their main bedroom. Setting her down face first into the fluffed up sheets, sitting down next to her while keeping her arms restrained snug behind her back. 

Her tail had curled around her waist during the travel and her ears remained flat against her head, small whimpers and the occasional ruffle of fabric as she shifted around were all to be heard in the room. Satoru remains silent by her side, Suguru’s socked feet thudding delicately along the floor as one of her ears twitches slightly in reaction. 

A small whimper is all that's heard when Suguru comes to a stop behind her, flipping up the long baggy shirt Satoru had put on her this morning, revealing her pastel pink lace panties. One of the things they had decided when dressing her for the first time was forgoing any bottoms, they would just be an inconvenience anyway.

It’s when both of them start to speak, one after the other, words of how “This is your punishment.”, “You’re going to learn how to speak nicely.”, “You’ve been a bad kitty.” that makes her bottom lip tremble. Tears welling up in her pretty glazed eyes.

It’s the first hard smack against her pink panty clad cheek that causes her to wail. Big salty tears finally spilled over her waterline and down her cheeks. She starts to squirm when they don’t stop. Harsher and harsher they get. She knows it’s Suguru doing it because Satoru is the one that’s holding her down.

In all honesty she’s struggling to make out what is truly happening. The pain is spreading over each cheek the more Suguru spanks her as she wails and cries. 

A few harsh spanks later and the worst one comes next, a loud cracking smack right over a tender spot on her ass cheek and she shrieks. Openly sobbing and blubbering. She’s wounded and confused, scared and wanting comfort.

This is where Satoru speaks up, curled around her upper half to stop her from escaping her torment. 

He’s saying something along the lines of ‘only trying to help her understand, “we just don’t want to see you get hurt”, “how many curse users and sorcerers would slaughter her without a second thought”. 

All of this combined just makes her sob even harder. Each stuttering inhale and choked out wail, drowning in the mess her face is in of snot and drool and tears. Every smack hurts and every word is less and less comforting. She doesn’t like this. She hates this.

Sobbing and trembling, ears flattened atop her head in her distress while her tail is curled so tight around her waist the muscles strain. 

Suguru delivers the last few slaps against her bruised and blushing red ass before he stops. The only thing heard in the room is the heavy breathing behind Kitty, her crying and Gojo's words of ‘comfort’. 

Eventually after a few minutes to gather their composure they roll Kitty over. Yes, it does hurt them a little to see her cower away from both of them, trying to curl into herself and hide while she sobs from everything inflicted on her these past minutes. 

It’s Suguru that picks her up gently, Satoru leaving to start a hot bath in the other room while Suguru stays on the bed with Kitty. Nestling her into his chest, too exhausted to resist, she buries herself into the side of his neck. Making sure to keep her rear end from touching anything, he stays with her. Kneading her curled in ears gently and making small shushing noises.

Rocking her gently side to side as one hand trails delicate patterns up and down her back. He waits for Gojo to finish the bath, so they can both give Kitty the comfort she deserves. All while reminding her this is what happens when she fights back. And how a lot worse would befall her should she ever dare leave. 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

[bloobydabloob]

Your art is genuinely one of the most inspiring I’ve seen in ages. Immediately upon discovering your blog, I was mesmerized by your creativity bleeding into and staining each piece you’ve posted. Don’t know a lick of Homestuck, but it’s unnecessary to when your art tells me all I need to know without saying a single word. I can grasp why fans of the comic hold it so dear when you paint such a beautiful image of it. (figuratively, not referring to your actual paintings, LOL! Does this count as a pun?)

Sorry, this is just an unrelated doodle because I don’t have any relevant images to add.

I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to tell me this, thank you. I know it is just like a little act of kindness to you but nice messages mean a lot to me and I wish I could properly project how glad I am to have kind people supporting my art in *any* amount. I’m someone who gets very easily stressed out running accounts so talking to people is what makes it worth the hassle for me. I’m glad you like my art and that it inspires you and anyone else reading this who may feel similarly, I hope I don’t quit art and that I keep improving.

I also do very much recommend giving Homestuck a read if you’ve got the time. The fanbase is unfortunately something I don’t have much of a positive view on but even if it is just some internet comic, reading it growing up is definitely something I wouldn’t take ever back. It has some of the best character / world building of anything I’ve read thus far and it has always just stuck with me. I’ve never had a homestuck friend that moved on from it, which is something I rarely find. I think it appeals to everyone in a different way because of the writing and how vast it is / how many bases it covers. I’m sure that if you ever read it you would find your own connections within the comic. I know though that my drawings are less connected with the atmosphere of the comic itself and infinitely more attuned to my own interpretations and feelings towards the characters, but I also think there is already enough more fitting homestuck art for me to just draw whatever.

Anyways here is my cool new print I got for my wall from @/ReptileEnclosed’s InPrnt, and here are just some of the nice things people have said to me that stick in my mind. Every time someone says something I appreciate I screenshot it and add it to a folder called “Nice Words”.

[aclowntiny]

How Ateez Confess To You (Gender Neutral Reader)

This is a sort of continuation of how they are around their crush & also part of a request for @art-herog 😄 hope you enjoy 🥰

Hongjoong

♡ Hongjoong overthinks this, like, a lot. He has perfectionist tendencies, so like anything else that has his name stamped on it his confession has to be perfect. But not for his glory, all because you deserve it. You deserve to have that perfect moment and feel like you bring the best out of him...which you do.

♡ He doesn't want to put on a show, make a big production of things, but his words have to come out right, so he writes them down again and again until he feels they're the best possible, just like lyrics. And then he practices because like hell is he reading his confession to you from a script!

♡ The next time you guys spend together it's evening. Hongjoong has probably been with you in the studio or working on an art project you were helping with, and even he is feeling cooped up. He announces that he needs to get out for a bit, would you join him? You, of course, say yes, ending up taking a stroll out onto a bridge late at night.

♡ The stars are out twinkling for you, but Hongjoong is too busy seeing them in your eyes as you two share ideas and goals. Finally, after a pause, he gets your attention, breath hitching at your eager, attentive smile. "It's been...such a pleasure- no, an honor- to get to know you, (y/n). You're an amazing person with wonderful ideas, and I hope to be there to see it when you achieve your dreams. And for all the fun in between, too," he adds with a grin, the way he's looking at you and his words sending a blush to your cheeks. "Ah, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to be by your side and care for you. I have feelings for you, (y/n)."

♡ Your heart pounds, but you waste no time in responding. "And I you, Hongjoong. I could say all the same things right back to you. Except I'd like to add that I'll be doing plenty of taking care of you, too. I know you can be hard on yourself, but there's no need to be." Shyly, Hongjoong reaches over, taking your hand and gently running his thumb over the back of it. His hand feels warm compared to the cold breeze of the bridge. His smile widens, head shaking in amazement as his gaze flits between you and the brilliant map of starlight above. "What did I do to get so lucky?"

Seonghwa

♡ He thinks about it a lot before it happens. Should he present you with a gift? Have a movie moment where you kiss at just the right time? Tell you every little amazing thing he loves about you before confessing?

♡ Then he realizes he's overthinking it and it'll all feel natural in the moment, so he resumes just spending time with you until that place to share his heart emerges.

♡ That opportunity presents itself in the form of an umbrella. You two are about to walk in the rain, Seonghwa pulling out his umbrella because of course he came prepared. He holds it above you two as you, laughing and dodging water, emerge. One umbrella with two people is a little difficult.

♡ Because of this, you end up pulling closer, holding onto his arm to keep in position, but then you realize and ask Seonghwa if what you're doing is ok and there's just something about the way you look at him, some great romance of this moment, and he just knows. "Yes, it's ok," he tells you with that soft, doe-eyed smile he always has for you, "I like it. I like you. I wish we could always walk like this."

♡ "Well," you smile back, tightening your loose grip, "we can." Seonghwa grins, rests his head on top of yours, and from there you two have a very special understanding.

Yunho

♡ He definitely doesn’t want to flash mob you or anything, but does want to make it A Moment™

♡ Yunho’s plan is to get you alone, maybe ask you to hang out one on one, which if you don’t usually do that is sort of sign number one.

♡ He just invites you to take a walk, so it’s not like massive date energy but you guys go to a really pretty spot, a place to walk under trees in blossom, and the way Yunho’s looking at you like the greatest gift he’s ever gotten has you blushing.

♡ “This is really beautiful, Yunho. Thank you for inviting me today,” you share your appreciation. “I brought you to a beautiful place because I think you’re beautiful,” he confesses with a warm smile, “I really like you, so I wanted to ask you on a date properly. (y/n), may I take you out?"

♡ The confession leaves you breathless at first, but when you gain your bearings, you nod. "You definitely can. I would love that." Yunho gently takes your hand in his as you begin to walk again, glancing over to you with a smile before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "I can't wait."

Yeosang

♡ He goes back and forth in his head a bit about if he should say something or not, but one day when you’re hanging out you give him such a genuine, reassuring compliment he knows he has to at least make his feelings known.

♡ He isn’t sure what to do, or at least how he wants to do it, at first. However, he realizes overthinking it is the problem and decides to just tell you how he feels and see what you say. This is DEFINITELY not something Yeosang is about to do with the guys around, so he asks if you wouldn’t mind meeting him for coffee.

♡ The moment you walk in, you’ll see that huge smile he always has for you and his little wave and feel immediately reassured that he didn’t call to discuss something bad. Instead, Yeosang seems warmer than ever even if his usually unfailing eye contact drifts down toward the table a lot more. He remembered your order too, giggling a little at your congratulations on that.

♡ The both of you chat for a bit. Right as you start to assume he only called you so he wasn’t lonely at the café, though, is when he says your name suddenly, intently, and the eye contact returns. “It’s been really fun getting to know you,” he starts, “I- I’ve really enjoyed hanging out.” “Me too!” Your smile spurs him on. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, but would you ever be interested in going on a date?”

♡ When you say yes, of course you would, he grins, reaching across the table to grip your hand. “Then I’m going to take you on the best date ever.”

San

♡ This man right here wants to make it romantic!!! 😤 If he’s confessing, he really likes you and wants it to show that he means it. It’s something that should be heartfelt and respectful, not just a casual ‘Hey, wanna go out?’

♡ With that in mind, he goes out and buys the prettiest bouquet he can find, presenting it to you when he sees you the next day. Your heart explodes at the sight of your handsome friend holding out an assortment of gorgeous flowers with a whispered “For you.”

♡ “You’re so sweet!” You exclaim as you accept the gift. “What are these for?” “Because I like you,” San blurts out with a dreamy smile, “you’re a wonderful person. I hope you know that.”

♡ San has always been affectionate to you. He genuinely seems to admire you, and the way he always tries to surprise you with things is so heartwarming. You just weren't expecting him to confess so spontaneously, so your jaw drops. "And if you just want to be friends, I'd love to still be your friend too, I can just not be as-" You shake your head. "No, San, I like you too, are you kidding?"

♡ The moment the words leave your mouth, San is scooping you up into his arms, his cheek against yours, and spinning you around. "Then I'm going to do my best to make you as happy as you make me, (y/n)!"

Mingi

♡ He has no plan in his head about confessing bro it just happens

♡ You guys are hanging out, his heart going !!! at every little thing you do per usual 😌 You're watching a movie with the guys, and your eyes are on the screen, but his are on you. Like, what movie? Your reactions ARE the movie.

♡ The rest of Ateez start filing out of the room as the movie ends, heading off to bed, to get ready, or just have their own time to relax, but you stay on the couch chatting. "It would be cool to have archery skills like that, right?" "Yeah, totally!" Mingi agrees as he does to 99% of things you say, imitating shooting arrows. It's late, you're both a little punch-drunk, and somehow his little invisible archery has you guys cracking up.

♡ "No, but seriously," you ask, "if you could have a superpower, what power would you have?" Mingi is looking at you with the most precious smile, his chin resting on a pillow as he peers up at you, your animated motions, the late-night laughter and rumpling of your clothes, and somehow his mouth is forming words before his brain is. "Getting you to like me back."

♡ You freeze momentarily, sending a shock of panic down his spine, but before he can frantically correct himself, your lips break into a smile. "Ok, wow, that was really smooth. You already have that power, you know, Mingi." "I do???" "Yes!" You giggle. He grabs both your hands in his, waving them back and forth. "Yahoo! I'm going to take you on a date, then!"

Wooyoung

♡ Oh boy…once again, no flash mob, but… You’re not getting confessed to by Wooyoung without some flair!

♡ He likes you so much, you deserve a show. Wooyoung decides to practice a whole entire choreography to show you, then invites you once he feels confident in it. He makes sure you have something soft to sit on, no hard studio floor for you 😌

♡ “That was great, Wooyoung!” You applaud as he finishes up. “Have you shown Hongjoong? Or maybe Yunho?” “No,” he shakes his head, sliding up to sit right next to you, eyes never leaving yours, “this was just for you.” “Well, I’m no idol choreographer, but that looked really-” “Because I like you.”

♡ Your heart leaps at the words, but Wooyoung jokes around like that a lot. He flirts a lot, so you assume he’s joking and just sort of laugh it off. That, though, is when he takes your hand. “No, I mean it.” He leans even closer, face mere inches from yours. “I really, really like you.”

♡ Maybe it’s something about the intensity with which he says it, maybe it’s the eye contact, heck, maybe it’s those dance moves you just were treated to, but whatever it is, it works. Between the rush of joy you’re feeling, Wooyoung’s big emotions, and your proximity, the moment he finishes saying that your lips are joined. You’re a bit surprised at how gently he kisses you, but that only cements the fact that he means it, he’s not just messing with you, he cares. And as he pulls away, he smirks, but pulls you close and tells you he can’t wait to give you the dream date you deserve.

Jongho

♡ Oh boy… so this is where both sides of Jongho’s nature sort of clash. He’s a very straightforward person, but he also has a hard time expressing deep feelings. It takes him a lot of consideration, and when he does it it's very simple, but playful. Nothing sappy or awkward.

♡ He starts with dropping subtle hints, things you wouldn't even take to be personal. He'll ask questions like how you would feel about getting into a relationship, just nodding and listening when you said you were quite open to that, trying hard to suppress the wide smile that keeps threatening to rise to his lips. He'll start giving you more compliments to see how you react, enjoying the sight of your smile at them.

♡ It ends up having when the two of you are having a deeper conversation, just talking about your lives and things that have happened. Jongho just can't help himself when you tell him a really funny story, finishing by saying you wished he was there.

♡ "I wish I could have been there, too." "Oh, yeah, it would have been hilarious-" "No," he smiles with all the simple pride of a man making a dad joke, "I wish I could have been there because I like you. I always like being around you."

♡ Jongho's words are so simple, so matter-of-fact like it was the most obvious thing in the world, that you're shocked. "Really? You like me?" "Yes. But if you don't feel the same, then we can just forget I said anything, ok?" "Nope, I'm never forgetting that," you tell him, "because I like you too!" You feel him jump in surprise when you throw your arms around his neck, but smile when his hand slides around your waist, drawing you closer with warm satisfaction. When you pull away, Jongho's looking at you with a wide, gummy smile. "In that case, that'll be a yes on the date, then?"

[tsumuus]

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

i just wanna start off by saying tysmmm for even being able to reach this many followers😭!!!!!! i never would have thought my silly little stories would have even gotten as much engagement as they have been. truly so shocked. even tho ive started my senior year and my schedule is starting to fill up i really want to free up some time to do this event for you guys. ive received nothing but support and encouragement from you all and its more then i could have ever asked for! <3

as for the actual event itself, i really don't have a theme, i just want to give you guys a chance to request anything that you'd like (just don't be weird and keep it pg, im 16😓).

this event will last from 9.2.24-9.23.24! feel free to start sending in requests beforehand so i can plan accordingly!

i typically write for mha and hq, but i am willing to write for other fandoms. just ask in your request the character, and if i write it, just depends on whether ive seen that show or not lol!

(follow my first tag to stay updated with this event !)

reblogs are always appreciated <3 !

prompts and event masterlist under the cut !

₊✩‧₊˚ prompts ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #1: love languages

in your request, send the character of your choice, your top love language, + any other specific details you'd like me to incorporate

here are some fics i've alr written that follow this prompt: physical touch w bakugou; words of affirmation w kirishima

prompt #2: dialogue/quotes

in your request, send the character of your choice, and any sort of dialogue or quote or something of the sort

examples:

"im not in love with you anymore" "i didnt know you ever were"

"you were everything" "you were a wonderful experience"

"i would've been there for you, through everything" "i thought you knew"

(yes i know these are all tiktok sounds idc its all i could think of)

prompt #3: song lyrics

very similar to prompt #2. in your request, send the character of your choice and any song lyric or song in general you'd want me to incorporate

ive written a good amount of these before but i never really liked how most of them turned out, yet here are a few of my favorites: falling behind, bakugou; pleaser, kaminari; reflections, atsumu

prompt #4: character matchup!

this is something new that i havent tried doing before. in your request, answer the following questions, and add any details you think i should know to help me figure out your perfect match! if you request this prompt i'd prefer you don't do it annomous but it’s up to you!!

questions:

what fandom/anime(like mha or hq) do you want the character i match you up with to be from? would you prefer a character whos male, female, or do you have no preference?

romantic or platanoic matchup?

describe your personality.

your top love languages.

your hobbies/pastimes.

and anything else about you i need to know!!

please be kind and patient with me as i try to figure out and plan everything accordingly thatll also not interfere too much with my schedule! any hate or negativity will result in you getting blocked! that being said, i also dont want to have to deny or delete any requests but my creativity does run out and i do get hit with writers block sometimes so if your request for prompts #1-3 happen to not be working w my brain capacity(???) im sorryyyyy!!

₊✩‧₊˚ event masterlist ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #1: love languages

₊✩‧₊˚ akinori konoha + acts of service ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ tenya iida + quality time ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ hitoshi shinsou + physical touch ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ keiji akaashi + words of affirmation ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + acts of service ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #2: dialogue/quotes

₊✩‧₊˚ toru oikawa + “you don’t hate me” “i could never hate you” ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ neito monoma + "im not in love with you anymore" "i never knew you were" ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + “i wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair’ ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #3: song lyrics

₊✩‧₊˚ izuku midoriya + sailor song ! ˚₊✩‧₊

prompt #4: character matchup!

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #1 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #2 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #3 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #4 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #5 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #6 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #7 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ matchup #8 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Good Intentions (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Good Intentions

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:

Yall know the drill by now. Chaos will update this part later 👀

author's note:

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR PATIENCE! Holy bananas! This chapter is four five months in the making! I know it'll take you just a few minutes to read it but keep that in mind loves! Chaos slaved over this chapter because life gave me a wedgie at every flippin turn! Joker was getting on my nerves not cooperating with the dialogue then I had a HUGE plot hole that needed to be filled and I bet everyone is wondering-

When will Joker give Y/n a night she'll never forget? Not in this chapter I'm afraid! I tried to add it in but it didn't flow well so stay tuned loves! Things are gonna be happening very quickly very soon. I'm so excited!

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates! 🖤✨

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

The dawn was bright and a touch cruel for waking you up in such a manner. Its persistent glare left you no chance of falling back asleep. You blinked back the last dregs of your slumber and finally became aware of your surroundings. 

The first thing you noticed was Joker lying beside you, gazing at you fondly. Anything else besides him simply ceased to exist.  

Joker was devoid of any greasepaint, allowing you full access to his handsome face, scars and all. How dare he hide this from you? Joker didn’t think himself attractive, but the dusting of freckles along his nose amplified his beauty in your opinion. You began the tedious task of counting them one by one as he spoke.  

“My Bunny is finally awake.” He cupped your cheek, his touch warm and familiar— and bestowed you a kiss before reeling back and bopping you on the nose. You jumped slightly at the random action. You would never understand Joker’s fascination with your nose.  

You swatted him away to sit up further in bed. The surface itself gave you pause.  

The last thing you remembered was lying in the back of the SUV with Joker on the side of some Blüdhaven road. Not the best locale for sex but Joker made it memorable. “Where are we?” You asked.  

Joker snorted, “Why don’t ya look for yourself?” His eyes were like a hawk watching you glance around the room. 

Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the bustling streets of Gotham took up one wall. Back inside, two chairs and a couch in shades of sage and grey, sat before an electric fireplace, and a framed piece of fanart from your book series hung above it. The bathroom door was cracked open, and you could barely see the clawfoot feet of your tub peeking out from around the corner.  

You were in your guest bedroom. You were home. 

Not that you weren’t grateful, but you were still at a loss on the technicalities.  

“How did we get here?” You moved the covers back and noticed you were naked. “And where are my clothes?!” You shouted. 

Joker laughed at you scrambling to cover yourself.  

He didn’t see the point since he already had the pleasure of worshipping your body thoroughly. He had your body memorized and could navigate to the tiniest of scars with his eyes closed. Joker secretly enjoyed his Bunny acting all shy so he didn’t pull the sheet away from you.  

“Uhhh clothes? There ah.. somewhere. You didn’t need them.” Joker scoffed.  

You wished that Joker was cracking a joke. Granted that Blüdhaven wasn’t that far from Gotham City, you were still worried about optics. Cindy would kill you if any nsfw photos were leaked to the media.  

As if you needed more attention after your tabloid cover story with J was still circulating. You wanted to lay the secret lover rumors to rest not add more fuel to the fire.  

The morning sun flooded the room with its warm light and it illuminated your e/c eyes, effectively blinding your vision. “Joker please tell me you didn’t drive us back to Gotham with me naked in the passenger seat. What if someone saw?” 

You quirked an eyebrow at your distracted lover. J was looking at you, his mind however, was miles away in Metropolis.  

He was drawn in by your gorgeous eyes alit by the sun. Every day he questioned how he became so lucky to have your love. Someone so beautiful, so kind as you giving him the light of day? He was rendered speechless every time.  

“J?” you shielded your eyes from the sunlight, thus snapping him out of his daze. “Are you listening?” You asked. 

Joker blinked out of his fog to answer.  

“Ahem. I uh I’m the only one admiring the view, doll. The windows are tinted. Re-mem-ber?” Joker sang. Hopefully you didn’t catch his genuine stutter.  

You didn’t. “Oh right. Well at least we’re back in Gotham. Haven was irking my nerves.” 

“YuP. Some errr.. trip that was.” Joker noted as his hand hovered over your own. You nodded at his silent request. He began playing with your fingers one after another. You watched him, lost in thought. Neither of you knew how to address the elephant in the room.  

Joker was tracing the lines etched on your palm when he eventually caved in. “Your mom called.” 

“Huh?” 

J picked up the panic laced in your voice, “Calm down Bun. I didn’t talk to her.” 

He launched into the explanation as he mapped out the lines of your hand. “She left a uhh, voicemail. Your dad and uncle were dropped off, safe n sound, along with your cousin— albeit with heh.. bruised egos. See? Perfectly fine! Funny how life workss.” You winced as his long fingernail traced your lifeline.  

Intentional or not, it jogged your memory from last night and made you sigh in relief. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad they’re okay.”  

“You didn’t believe me?”  

You detangled your hand from Joker’s. It’s not that you didn’t believe him— he just made it hard to at the time. You couldn’t ignore what you saw. Joker shot your father and uncle at point blank range.  

You knew the kind of man Joker was. He killed without remorse and did it for fun. If he didn’t physically prove that the bullets were rubber, how were you to trust his word?  

“I.. Yes, I believe you, but please try to see it from my point of view! Y-You scared me last night. I mean, after you shot your own goon in front of me just a few days prior. How am I supposed to know what bullets you used? What if you mixed them up or something. I-I just.”  

You choked on your emotions and began curling in on yourself, if Joker didn’t stop the motion in its tracks. “Oh Bun none of that.” He turned you around to face him.  

You didn’t see him grimace at the fresh tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, but he brushed them away all the same. The gentle care he used made you look up into his troubled green eyes. Since when was Joker the affectionate type? 

“I never want you scared of me, doll. You should’ve never seen that err.. hic-cup at Bicchieri’s. It’s my fault for underestimating that a-nnoooying rat in my organization n' putting—” 

“What rat?” You echoed.  

Joker blinked twice as if he didn’t mean to share that bit of information with you. You saw the wheels turning in his head, desperate to backtrack that statement.  

“Ahh nothing to worry that pretty little head of yours!” He said with a smile but it was too late. His Light was a curious person by nature, and all it took was you stressing his name for him to groan in defeat. “Fiiiiine.”  

Up till now, Joker had done a great job at keeping you in the dark. He kept his lifestyle separate from yours to keep you safe but as of late, someone was making it their personal mission to change that and remove you from the picture. 

Joker remembered how shaken up you were after Two Face shot up your charity gala and then when he later abducted you from your apartment. The former District attorney was tame compared to the more dangerous threat this mole was creating.  

Joker exhausted almost every asset he had to wring out the traitor, all to no avail. Whoever was causing this high security breech was smart and resourceful.  

Joker thought traveling to your hometown would help narrow down his search, but it only led to more questions than answers. Keeping you naïve was no longer possible. He just hoped this latest news didn’t scare you away for good. 

You knew it was serious when Joker used your real name. He instantly had your undivided attention with a single word.  

J sighed, “You remember that manila folder ya found at the beach house?” He knew you remembered when your eyes widened, however your mind drifted to other things.  

“How could I forget?”  

He smiled knowing what you were referring to. The time spent in the Vineyard, (where you earned your namesake) was special to Joker as well. Unfortunately, it was time to hit you with reality.  

“Someone’s been following you, Light.” 

“By the paparazzi? I’m used to that, J.” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood but Joker didn’t join in.  

“No Y/n. Someone with ties to my organization is following you around, makin’ threats, and putting my Light in danger. They tipped Two Face off about your address and they were lurkin’ in the crowd at Euphoria that night you went with your friends.”  

Joker gritted his teeth before resuming, “They tooK photos of you, wayyyy too close for my liking and the message is quite clear. I meanT what I said that day. I don’t want you going anywhere alone for the near future. If I lost you Y/n I...”  

He couldn’t even finish the thought. You were shocked to see Joker get emotional however before you could console him, he snapped right back to normal.  

The drastic change of emotions was disturbing to witness, and Joker noticed how you eyed him warily because of it. “I’m fiiiine, Y/n. Your safety is just so im-port-ant to me, I will literally lose it if you were hurt under my watch.” 

It took one look into Joker’s deranged eyes for you to believe him.  

J’s hands were still shaking as he craned your neck backwards to kiss you. It started out slow and built up to the point of Joker pushing you down on the bed, if not for your phone’s alarm effectively ruining the mood.  

Joker groaned as your hand blindly reached backwards to turn off your phone. J was nice enough to charge it for you when he brought you in from the car and you could see the multiple notifications covering up the screen. You saw dozens of text messages but for now, the most important notif, was your timer going off for therapy.  

You had long since forgotten about it given your stressful trip back home. A part of you didn’t want to go despite it being the right thing to do. You needed help healing from your past to move forward with your future. There was much to discuss if you went, yet you didn’t particularly appreciate Dr. Quinn’s approach to healing. Therapy was a good idea but perhaps the therapist in question was the problem. 

Your thoughts must’ve been visible to your dark clown. Joker read you liken an open book. “Are ya going?”  

“I-I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right about my therapist though it could just be my bias towards doctors.” You huffed. That wasn’t completely true. Sarai was an excellent doctor, and she didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. You pouted while mulling it over.  

J hummed on your shoulder. “Want me to handle it?” His offhand comment made you laugh and finally give him the attention he wanted. You swatted at his head and met his mischievous eyes.  

Wait, he was actually serious. 

“Oh my God Joker you can’t keep ‘handling’ every little inconvenience in my life. Leave the poor woman alone. I’ll just call Mama and ask for another recommendation list while she fills me on the drama that you caused. I have no doubt that phone call will take a huge chunk of my day.”  

You heaved out a sigh before falling backwards onto the bed.  

When you opened your eyes, Joker was hovering over you, biting his lip with a sheepish grin. His hair was a bird’s nest framing his face and the color of it caught your attention. You reached up and curled a strand or two around your finger and tugged. “Hey. I thought you weren’t dying your hair anymore around me.”  

What a way to deflect the conversation. Joker let you change the subject (for now) and followed your light tugs in a playful manner.  

“Not so harrrd Bunny! I had ta look my best for a night on the towns! First impressions are everything ya know. What would your folks think if they saw me all natural?”  

He grinned down at your unamused face.  

“Joker. Do you really think my parents cared what color your hair was when you shot someone in front of us at Vincent’s? Did my dad care when you riddled him with rubber last night?” 

When you worded it that way, perhaps he screwed up on the first impressions. He would do better in the future if he ever got the chance to meet them again— under better circumstances of course.  

But back to your question. “Uhhhh.” Joker stuttered.  

“Don’t answer that. What’re you gonna do for the day?” You raked your nails through Joker’s neon green hair. Despite being freshly dyed, it was in a desperate need of a wash, having the texture of wet seaweed. Still, it was therapeutic for both you and J, so you didn’t stop your hand movement.  

Besides, he was practically purring from your ministrations. Your nails felt too good, and he laid down on your stomach slurring his speech.  

“Mmmmm gotta check up on the idiots and let’s see… cause some mischief.” J whined when you stopped playing with his hair. “Ohhh, don’t give me that look, Sugar. I’ll be back before ya know it. Unless.. gasp do you wanna go with me?” 

You rolled your eyes and resumed scratching his scalp.  

There was no way Joker would let you tag along with him especially after he just confessed you had a deranged stalker running around. Joker would be too busy being a menace to society to look after you properly. Even if you wanted some alone time with Joker, work always came first. But before he left...  

“Do you want me to cook you something before you go?” you asked.  

Joker would never turn down your home cooking and as expected, he fell for the trap. 

His stomach cried out before he could. “I’d looooooove that my Light.” He moved up to peck you on the lips. “Can I have French toast with ahhh... extra.. Sugar?” One kiss turned into two then three until you were at his mercy, desperate for more.  

His kisses trailed further and further down your body until you understood J’s intentions. He rubbed his scarred cheek along your hip bone as he pushed the sheets away from your body. 

So this is what he meant by extra sugar. At this rate, Joker wasn’t letting you out of bed. And who were you to deny yourself this pleasure? Soft mornings with Joker were a dime a dozen so you laid back and let him kiss and touch to his heart’s content. 

Breakfast could wait, Joker wanted dessert first.  

An hour later, you turned the stove off and pushed a hot plate of French toast across the kitchen island towards Joker. His eyes were aglow with mischief as you made a show of sprinkling an obscene amount of powdered sugar atop the dish.  

His comical snort was light as you walked past him, grabbing your phone as you went. “I’ll be in the living room.”  

“Thanks for breakfast, Sugar.” He called after you.  

Which one? you almost fired back.  

Only Joker could make such an innocent comment about breakfast be dirty. You kept your flustered smile to yourself while you dialed your mother’s number.  

You needed a clear head for this upcoming conversation.  

As the line rang, you reminded yourself; Act surprised, you don’t know anything that happened back home. It only took four rings until Mama’s worried voice answered and it took longer to reassure her that you were fine. 

“Mama calm down.. I’m okay. I just wanted to go home and—yes ma’am, I’m back in Gotham City. I um..” your eyes darted over to Joker still seated at the island counter.  

He locked eyes with you as he licked syrup off his fork. Your clit jumped remembering when his tongue did that exact same motion to it a few minutes ago. He was doing it on purpose, his smug grin confirmed it. This madman would be the death of you someday.  

You snapped out of your thoughts by your mother calling your name repeatedly.  

“Y-Yes ma’am, I’m still here. I took the subway back. Yes, I know it's not safe that time of night, but Uncle D didn’t quite understand the part where I said I can leave whenever I want. So I did. Mama, will you stop defending him?!” You paused to give her time to fill you in on the events you were already privy to.  

It was time for you to perform.  

“DAD WAS SHOT?!” You screamed. Joker gave you a thumbs up on your ‘totally believable reaction’ and you almost flipped him off as a result. It would be nice if J sat there and ate his food instead of distracting you.  

“Mama, slow down and start from the beginning! They did what now? Are they stupid or is they dumb? They went to meet with who?”  

Joker had long since finished eating his breakfast, but he stuck around to watch you pace the living room while on the phone. You were a great actress, adding in your (fake) reactions and sprinkling the awkward silence with gasps and exaggerated comments to make it sound genuine.  

He couldn’t help but to eavesdrop on your current topic.  

“I’m glad Uncle and Dad got Jr. back from T-The Joker. Yes! I was just as terrified as you were! I mean— The Joker was talking to me. What was I supposed to do? I um.. n-never met him before—just heard about him on the tv and stuff. Yeah, he’s absolutely insane..” You trailed off.  

Your heart was beating wildly as you fiddled with a stem of a potted houseplant. They needed to be watered soon. It was simply a distraction to keep yourself from turning around and seeing Joker’s reaction.  

Hopefully, he understood that you were saying all this to avoid any suspicion from your mother. You hated lying to her and wished she changed the subject but for someone who hated the guy, she could not stop talking about Joker. She mentioned the events that occurred at Vincent’s restaurant again and you mentally groaned the longer she dragged on.  

“Y-Yeah I know. Super scary. I know! I can’t get his laugh out my head either and his eyes..” Hopefully you sounded terrified and not enamored. It was already bad enough that you stuttered saying The before Joker in an effort to make him sound more formal to you.  

You froze when Mom said something bizarre. “They are kinda hot huh?” 

Clearly you heard that wrong since it was the last thing you expected Mom to say, regardless of the reputation the females in your family had with bad boys. It was so far left field, that it caught you off guard.  

You couldn’t blame her though. Joker’s eyes were otherworldly, and he knew that you were obsessed with them. It was just another deadly weapon that he could charm you with.  

You couldn’t help yourself from replying truthfully. “I mean, yeah. They’re so freaking hot. I could stare at them all day.. wait! We shouldn’t be lusting after a known psychopath Ma!” 

Mom’s carefree laugh set your mind at ease. “What’s the harm in a little delusional thinking sweetheart? Sure he’s f__king insane but he’s still hot if you squint hard enough. You think he’s a dom?” 

Why, yes mother. Yes, he is.  

This conversation was embarking into dangerous territory. You had to put an end to it before you said something you couldn’t take back.  

“Okay Mama! We are not going down that road today. Speaking of, um, c-can you send me another therapist recommendation list? The old one you gave me didn’t have any good fits.”  

Thankfully that got her attention off of Joker and just in time too. You could feel his ego getting bigger and bigger from across the room.  

Mom’s loud reply made you hold the phone away from your ear. “YOU’RE GOING TO THERAPY?! Oh, honey that’s wonderful!” She squealed. Getting mental help was always her goal for you, and she was happy that you were finally interested. 

“Um well I went to a few sessions but they didn’t pan out how I’d like them to.” 

Her joy quickly turned into motherly concern. If you were still at home, no doubt she would have you wrapped up in a warm hug. “Really from that list? Huh. Perhaps you could give Dr. Crane a try? I think he’s still practicing.” 

“Dr. Crane? Why does that name sound familiar?” You spun around when you heard Joker drop his plate. It cracked into jagged pieces at his feet, yet he didn’t react. He just stood frozen, staring at the mess.  

You couldn’t risk calling out to him, thus announcing to mom that someone else was with you. She would have a field day and demand to talk to whomever it was. That was a can of worms you did not want to open. But the phone call was still active and she made her presence known again. “Everything alright dear?” Your mom asked over the phone.  

You disregarded J’s odd antics, “Yeah something fell over in the kitchen. Um I’ll check and see if Dr. Crane is in network.” You frowned hearing an incoming call buzzing in. The name made you arch an eyebrow. “Hey Ma, is it okay if I call you back?” 

Not like you actually would, it was simply a Blüdhaven saying to get someone off the phone. Mama recognized it and rushed through her goodbyes. “Alright sweetheart! Me and dad love you!” 

She knew her mistake the moment that word escaped her mouth. There was no way you would say it back. Your reply was curt. “Thanks. You too.”  

Would you ever say I love you again? The probability was unlikely. You ended the call and answered the next one in a sour mood. “Hello?”  

The person on the other end gasped in shock, “Y/n! So you are alive!” 

“Hey Cindy.” 

“Let’s try that again without the attitude. Did someone forget that GothCon is fast approaching, and failed to send over their itinerary for the event?” She heard you groan over the phone. “Mmhm, you really thought I’d forget, Y/n?” 

Her phone call wasn’t a social one. She gave you months to procrastinate but time had run out.  

Cindy’s job was to ensure these public events went smoothly and that her client was doing their part. You threatened to give her grey hairs before thirty.  

 “I have yet to receive anything from you, Y/n. I have no idea what project you’re unveiling if you are presenting anything for that matter!” She said.  

You whined as you wandered over to the sunroom’s large glass doors.  

You had been putting off preparations for GothCon ever since you met Joker. It was the last thing on your mind given the way your life had completely turned upside down. You couldn’t believe it was almost time for the convention and you hadn’t informed your manager of your intentions.  

You could only imagine the catch-up work Cindy was going to dump on you. “I told you months ago to just secure me a forty five-minute main stage slot. I’ll do a big announcement, follow up with the meet-and-greet stuff and my booth appearance.” You whined.  

It was Cindy’s turn to voice her disappointment, albeit more refined than you. You could picture the businesswoman drumming her pristine nails on her desk. Cindy was a chronic perfectionist; surprises were out of the question. She had to know something about your big announcement. 

“That sounds great, Y/n. Your fans will love it. Now, are you announcing the movie deal because Bruce’s legal team sent over the contract ages ago and its sound on our end. I’m just waiting on you to sign off on it. Honestly. Have you checked your email lately? 

No. Your long-forgotten laptop sat closed on your desk for the past few weeks, mocking you. 

Joker dragged you from one drama to the next with little time for reprieve. The last thing on your mind was checking emails or writing despite Joker being the current muse for your WIP. You felt like such a cliché letting a man distract you from work.  

Just because you talked Cindy out of your deadline restriction didn’t mean you could fool around and not work at all. 

You had to write something and you were working on borrowed time. You looked back towards the kitchen and didn’t see J at the counter. If he had plans for the day, so could you. 

“Um. How about I stop by and sign the contract in person? How’s that?” You suggested to Cindy. “We can make a day of catching up! I’ll order lunch and we’ll plan my Con appearance together in great detail and make up for lost time.” 

You knew she wouldn’t pass up a day of productivity.  

“I can agree to these terms. Do you want me to send a car for you?”  

Any other day, you would’ve accepted the offer, that is until you remembered the G wagon that Joker bought you which was parked in the apartment garage. “Actually... no. I’ll drive.” 

Cindy tried to mask her laughter, “Pffft. You? Drive? Y/n, do you even have an ID? You know what? This is Gotham. I’ll see you when you get here.” 

You tried not to take offense to Cindy’s comment.  

You had an ID, you just considered driving as a last resort. Walking and the public subway were all you ever needed growing up. Even now, just thinking about driving was a task you weren’t looking forward to.  

A small part of you wanted to see if Sebastian could chauffeur you to Cindy’s office—yet you didn’t know if J vetted the concierge driver or not. It was better to drive yourself until that got sorted out.  

Thinking about the father of two reminded you to talk to Cindy about securing VIP tickets for Will. You made a promise to the young boy and you wanted to deliver on it. However, before you could do so, you had to get dressed. Cindy would flay you alive if you walked into her office wearing pjs.  

Joker was kind enough to let you wear a shirt of his. The day you planned with Cindy would be productive yet causal and you wanted an outfit that would reflect that. Then you remembered a sweater dress you hadn’t worn yet in the back of your closet. It would fit the crisp Gotham weather just fine while remaining stylish. The better question was if you had the perfect shoes to go with it.  

Joker was stepping out of the bathroom when he saw you speeding down the hall, headed straight into your bedroom. His first thought was grim.  

Running to your sanctuary always spelled bad news. The phone call with your mother must’ve gone south. He had already made plans to visit a few key hideouts around the city and get back on track of his organization. He had no time to stay and worry over you.  

Much to his amusement, you soon ran out of your private bedroom, only to brush past him and enter the guest bedroom without a word.  

Just what was his bunny up to? You looked like a woman on a mission. 

J leaned on the doorframe to watch you fling the closet doors open and frantically begin searching inside. Good thing he wisely moved all of his stashed weapons and illegal goods to a better hiding spot days ago. He wasn’t worried about you finding something dangerous, but he was still rather curious on what you were actually looking for.  

“You uhh need some help, pretty girl?”  

It took you a moment to acknowledge his presence behind you and when you did, your jaw dropped. Sweet Gaia: how did you walk past that? 

Joker was still damp from his shower and the black towel around his hips caught the remaining beads of water that raced down his chest. You watched one in rapt attention disappear past his v lines in slow motion. Another droplet soon entered the race and just like that, you were hypnotized. The wondrous view drew closer and closer as Joker came to a stop in front of you.  

He pushed your jaw closed with his index finger. “Eyes up here Princess.”  

The saucy nickname made you snap out of your daze. You took your time traveling up Joker’s body, drinking up his physique before meeting his gaze. Words escaped you he was so fine. “I um. I was.. I’m..” 

He admired your big eyes looking up at him from the floor. What he would do to have you like this every day, so docile and sweet. It was every man’s dream.  

“Use ya words, Bunny. I bet ya know soooooo many being a err, author n’ all.”  

His thumb reached down to brush against your lips and your lashes fluttered closed at the sensation. Joker was clearly messing with you, yet two could play this game.  

You huffed and turned back around to resume your search.  

“Um if you want to help, I’m looking f-for my snake boots. I want my outfit to pop when I go out today.”  

You made sure to lean forward so Joker could see your back arch just the way he liked. The shirt left little to the imagination and your efforts didn’t go to waste.  

The low growl behind you meant Joker liked what he saw; although, you weren’t expecting him to join you on the floor and begin searching inside the closet. You blinked in shock as he opened a shoe box, grumbled in disappointment when it wasn’t snake print, and toss the box aside before resuming the process again.  

He ruled out four boxes compared to your meager two. You weren’t sure what to make out of it. “J, you don’t have to help. Don’t you have plans today?”  

“And?” He flung a sandal box to the side. He was really invested in this.  

You would never get used to a domesticated version of Joker. The media made him out to be this insane maniac who killed for the fun of it. And while that was true, moments like this were sacred. You were the only person to see Joker in such a way. He looked so normal helping you find a needle in a haystack. Not once did he comment on the hoard of footwear in your spare closet. 

You were so caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice when Joker found the boots you were looking for. 

He read the brand name on the box and opened them just to be on the safe side. They were snake print but he wasn’t certain if they were the right ones you wanted. “Are these the— Y/n? Hey.”  

J snapped his fingers in your face. You jumped but he could tell you weren’t quite all there yet, so he nudged your leg with his foot. “What’s bothering ya Light?”  

Of course Joker would notice something was wrong. He was so perceptive; at times it bordered on being annoying. He would declare your thoughts silly, so you brushed them off.  

“Nothing. Thanks for finding my shoes. Um.. I’m going to Cindy’s office to go over the GothCon details. I-Is that okay?” 

Joker sighed to himself as he set the shoe box down. Just because he told you about your mysterious stalker didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to live your life. You didn’t have to ask for permission to do things. Joker refused to be your ex and trap you into another toxic relationship.  

You looked so shy, staring off to the side and biting your lip. That just wouldn’t do in Joker’s book.  

He knew you weren’t in a right mindset, and he didn’t want to trigger your PTSD with any sudden movements, so he held his hand up for you to see before caressing your face. “You can go annnny-where you want, no need to ask, mkay?” Joker calmly said. ‘I’m not him.’ he mentally added.  

You leaned into J’s calloused palm with a sigh, “If I don’t, then how will my security team know where I’m going?”  

Joker fixed you with a look. Surely you weren’t that daft?  

As if Joker’s security personnel needed to be notified in order to protect you efficiently. They watched over you like a shadow, as if their very life depended on it. Given that Joker was their employer, it probably was. The severity of how much Joker valued your safety hit you full force.  

His eyes in shades of jade and mint, bore into yours right there on the bedroom floor. Joker was doing everything in his power to protect you despite being the source of your troubles. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around why people labelled him a monster.  

Joker was a man with feelings just like the average Joe. He was capable of love and loving hard; a shame you were unable to reciprocate. Joker deserved someone who could match his devotion. He needed someone that wasn’t damaged like you.  

How ironic that Joker was the normal one in this relationship.  

The sudden swirl of negative thoughts made you feel worse than you already were about this torrid affair. Your eyes burned with incoming tears and Joker’s brows furrowed in concern upon seeing them. “Bun?” 

You cleared your throat and grabbed the shoe box off the floor, standing up faster than the Flash.  

The tables had indeed turned; you were now the one looking down at Joker kneeling on the floor. You felt the urge to flee the situation, and you wisely listened to your instincts. 

“I should take a shower and um.. head to Cindy’s office.” Each word was heavy with emotion and Joker was ready to cancel his plans to console his girl. You didn’t give him a chance.  

Joker called out your name but you were already halfway down the hall and the familiar sound of your bedroom door slamming closed echoed throughout the apartment. A sound that Joker dreaded more than anything.  

Joker thought the two of you were past hiding and poor communication, but old habits die hard. You shut Joker out and he had no other choice but to respect your privacy and hope that you emerged from your room in a better mood by the time he came home.  

The black wooden door of your bedroom was the Berlin Wall between you and Joker, and he would do anything to tear it down for the last time.  

Joker sighed in defeat before beginning to dress for the long day ahead. There was much to do and the quicker it was over, the sooner he could return and dote on his Light. 

The long drive to Cindy’s office gave you time to clear your head. You didn’t know what came over you back at the penthouse. Your emotions were all over the place and you didn’t mean to push Joker away like that.  

The morning started out well, amazing even, and you went and screwed it up all over nothing. You wanted to bash your head against the steering wheel for letting your past habits and mannerisms dictate your present love life.  

Just another example of how Joker didn’t deserve someone with your erratic and unhealthy emotions.  

Maybe it was a bad idea to skip therapy today. You clearly had a lot to work on. It was too late for you to try and make it now. You just had to suck up the fact that you were a terrible person and a horrible lover.  

By the time you got dressed and left your bedroom, Joker was long gone.  

You wanted to apologize in person but a well-placed note was left on the foyer table that caught your eye. Joker’s surprisingly legible handwriting was a welcome sight.  

Not mad at ya. 

A comic little bunny was drawn next to his initial and it made you smile just a tad. Joker knew how to lift your spirits, and you left the penthouse in a better mood.  

You pulled up to a red light and glanced through your rearview mirror. The unmarked SUV kept its distance a few cars behind you in traffic. It had been following you ever since you left your apartment garage. Joker’s goons were standing on business when it came to your protection. Not even congestion or other drivers cutting you off stopped them from performing their duty.  

You were a little scared the first ten minutes until they flashed their lights as a sign of peace. Much to your surprise, it was a modified green and purple LED before switching back to the standard white.  

You rolled your eyes at the lengths your lunatic lover would go to ensure your safety. Each sweet gesture made you feel guilty about your attitude towards J earlier and in general. You really had to do better.  

You shook your head as you reached the security gate at your publisher’s office.  

The security guard, TJ, waved at you in greeting and granted you access to the reserved parking area. The SUV following you had seemingly disappeared. You weren’t concerned since you knew they were somewhere lurking in the shadows, watching your every move.  

You turned off the engine and took a minute to collect your thoughts.  

“Clear your head Y/n. Cindy is like a bloodhound. No need to give her ammo.” You whispered to yourself.  

Just like Joker, Cindy would instantly notice something was wrong and pester you relentlessly until you fessed up, and you couldn’t let her find out about J. She’d have the police en route the second you uttered his name.  

Cindy was far too much of an upstanding citizen to even consider your views of Joker. She would question your sanity and label you a Stockholm syndrome victim if given the chance. You had to erase Joker from your mind if you were going to survive today.  

“Nothing is wrong. I am single and nothing is going wrong in my life. Alright, let’s do this.”  

With a confident nod, you stepped out of your vehicle and began walking inside. 

Parked further down the street, a hooded figure watched you disappear inside the building before reporting in. “She’s walking in now.” 

Across town, Joker was outside one of his various Burnley hideouts on a smoke break. Just because he was working did not mean he couldn’t multitask and dote on his Goddess. He expected updates on your safety in real time— now more than ever. He inhaled one last puff from his cigarette before flicking it away. “Good. Stay sharp.” 

It was time for him to head back inside and face his crew.  

Joker hung up and locked eyes with a man who was approaching him in the hall. There were perks of being Joker’s right-hand man. The most important one, Frost could say and do certain things that would normally get others killed. He nodded in greeting before walking alongside his old friend, silently but openly judging. 

There was much to do with the weekend fast approaching— however it was barely lunchtime. Frost wasn’t expecting to see Joker until sundown, if at all today. The fact that Joker was here was enough for Frost to give him the side eye.  

“Hm, I know that look. What’s err.. on ya mind Frosty?” Joker sang.  

“You are. What’re you doing here, Boss?” Frost asked.  

Joker cast a dark glare at his right-hand man. Frost was far too uptight to engage in idle chatter, so J saw right through the question. Not like he would delve in an honest answer. “Awww! Thinkin’ of little ol’ me? I’m uh flattered.”  

What a way to dodge the question. Frost snorted and jabbed the down button on the elevator panel.  

The abandoned warehouse looked decrepit on the outside, but years of money laundering and Mac’s excellent bookkeeping skills allowed the entire interior to be fully renovated. This particular hideout was the second best in the organization and Joker’s personal favorite to date. He was unable to secure his main location in the heart of Amusement Mile from the GCPC since there was still an active manhunt for him.  

They could look all they wanted. Joker was hiding in plain sight, and he had you to thank for such a feat. His Light provided more than shelter; you offered him a home.  

And Frost could see the positive impact that had on Joker.  

A calm aura had settled over the dark clown. Joker was slower to anger, and Frost could see a ghost of a smile peeking through the indifferent mask his boss tended to wear. You were a blessing for Joker and his volatile temperament.  

Showing up at the hideout during its current crisis would ruin your months of arduous work in seconds. It was in Frost’s (and everyone’s) best interest to ward Joker away. Going about it would prove to be difficult.  

The two men boarded the elevator, and Frost spoke up as the doors closed. “If I were you, I’d be spending the day with B, not cooped up underground, stirring up trouble.” 

“Watch it Frost.” J said in warning despite it being empty. Frost knew how far he could push J’s buttons so he went a bit further.  

“Just sayin’ boss. Today’s a good day to make up for a date that someone promised a certain someone. Something about a ‘night she’ll never forget?’ Some lie that turned out to be.” 

Quick thinking on Frost’s part prevented him from being punched in the face and Joker barely felt the white-hot pain of his fist hitting the metal walls. He was more upset that he missed than his busted knuckles.  

“I. Got. The. Message.” Joker growled.  

The elevator was a small space, yet Frost managed to create enough distance long enough for the doors to ding open and escape unharmed. He was wise to leave while he was still alive, yet he still had much to say. “I bet you do J. Mac’s in his office.” He said over his shoulder.  

Joker gave him a deadpan ‘so?’ look.  

Honestly, Frost did not get paid enough for this. Did he have to spell it out for the man? Apparently so. Frost sighed and did just that.  

“The master planner and the finance guy should be able to come up with something memorable for Y/n. She more than deserves it after everything you’ve done.”  

Frost sent his boss a knowing glare before he disappeared down the hall. Joker was left standing in the elevator, lost in the sea of his own thoughts.  

What if you found out about all the horrors that he’d done? Would you still love him? Was it all worth it in the end if you left him? Joker’s hands shook as he considered the unthinkable and his eyes quickly scanned the area to check if he was alone.  

No one could see him in a rare moment of weakness as he battled his inner demons.  

He mashed the button to close the elevator doors and struggled to catch his breath. Joker was smart. When he wanted something to disappear; it did. He covered his tracks and then burned all evidence to it. He shouldn’t have to worry about the what ifs, yet they suddenly hit him full force.  

In an ideal world, you would never find out what Joker did, nor would you accuse him if his misdeeds ever saw the light of day. There was nothing to panic about. He was just overreacting!  

God, he hoped he was just overreacting.... 

Joker nodded to himself, wiped the blood from his knuckles, and exited the elevator.  

Following Frost’s advice, Joker schooled his features and approached Mac’s humble office. Joker didn’t need to knock; he was the boss after all, yet he wasn’t expecting his bookkeeper to be preoccupied upon entry.  

J arched an eyebrow at the blissfully unaware blond twirling around like a schoolboy in his office chair.  

“Nah baby, you got enough flowers. Why don’t I pull up later and give you something we both know you want?” Mac smiled into his phone and was mid spin when he noticed his boss standing in the doorway. The sight could make anyone have a heart attack and Mac was no different. “Oh shhhh.. I’ll call you back!”  

Hopefully Morgana would forgive him for hanging up so abruptly. Right now, he needed to save face in front of his employer and avoid a premature death.  

Mac sat up and scrambled to look the poised, savvy businessman he was. His awkward wave was the icing on the failure cake. “Sup Boss.”  

Joker could care less. Morgana was an uncertain piece to Joker’s current dilemma. He expected Mac to hit it off with the florist after being assigned to shadow her. He didn’t trust her just yet and he wasn’t dumb enough to let her roam Gotham City freely after discovering you were dating The Joker.  

J was wise enough to manipulate his men into watching your friends on his behalf. The same precautions were enforced for Florence by Neo and Joker hoped that Mac didn’t repeat history.  

You would undoubtedly notice if Morgana went missing and with it, Joker’s credibility would shatter. He could not lose his Light. End of discussion.  

For now, J would have to starve off his need to cut loose ends.  

Your friend was safe until proven a threat and judging by Mac’s romantic pursuit, she wouldn’t be.  

He just hated playing nice with others. It was still a new concept to him. “Oh, do call her back, I insist.” J cooed. Today was a good day to start practicing.  

Mac was justified in being cautious. The eerie smile on Joker’s face put him on edge. “You— you want me to call Morgana back? Uhh why?”  

Blue eyes watched as Joker plopped down in the nearby chair and started fiddling with the various objects on the desk. Mac knew that Joker was stalling, it was his favorite scare tactic. When J picked up a costly paperweight, Mac had to interrupt.  

“Sir. Is there a reason, or do you simply wish to harass the poor woman further? I told you; Morgana will keep her mouth shut. She’s too loyal to Y/n.”  

“What’s loyalty hm? Soo~ooo easily bro-K-en.” Joker mumbled.  

He broke the trinket to prove a point and failed numerous times to place it back on the desk the way it was before. Mac had no other choice but to sigh in resignation watching his loony boss make things worse. That was a collector’s item reduced to scrap pieces.  

J knew firsthand how infatuation could blind people to the truth.  

Loyalty could be bought and sold as quickly as the wind changed direction. Soon he would put Morgana to the ultimate test but today, his request would be tame.  

If only lover boy would follow instructions.  

Joker finally got the broken pieces to stay still long enough to look intact. It fell apart a second later. Neither Joker nor Mac cared at this point. “Call. Her. Back.” Joker demanded.  

The room was silent as the two men engaged in a staring contest yet early on, it was clear who would win. Mac caved when the venomous green became too much to bear. He dialed Morgana back and put the phone on speaker— while silently praying the call didn’t turn sour.  

Just as he expected, she was not happy.  

“You got some nerve pretty boy calling back after that lil stunt! You can go ahead and kiss your rights to this pussy goodbye. Are you always this arrogant or is it generic with you snobby socialites? Hello? Oh, so now you don’t wanna speak? That’s fine.”  

Both men could hear her crudely cutting something in the background, most likely with her garden shears, and it didn’t sound pretty. Mac looked distressed the longer Morgana continued her one-sided rant. 

She added insults far more creative than Joker could ever imagine and he decided to intervene to save Mac’s ego.  

He started by clearing his throat, “Hi…..” There was a brief pause before Morgana groaned into the mic.  

“Oh. It’s you. Please don’t tell me you killed Mac and taken his phone? I can’t get a refund on our dinner reservations if he’s a no-show. Matter of fact... do you like Peruvian?”  

It was no wonder why you liked Morgana so much. She was so unbothered and detached from drama compared to your other friends.  

She boldly talked to the Clown Prince of Crime like it was an average day for her. Joker could get used to her sense of humor if he tried. Then he reminded himself that trying was his only option.  

“He’s fiiiiiine errr.. more or less. That’s noT why I called. Ya see, I need a favor and you’re just the girl to help.” He was offended by her automatically disagreeing.  

“I’m not Poison Ivy. If you don’t require my legal business or any help with Y/n, you got the wrong girl.” 

Joker licked his teeth, mulling over her audacity.  

Morgana was acting cheeky as if he wouldn’t harm her. It would not be a hassle to make the short journey to her storefront and teach her how people should talk to The Joker.  

Mac must’ve seen the idea forming in his boss’ mind, for he leaned over the desk and re-entered the conversation.  

“Hey baby. I never took you as someone to turn down a potential business deal. Just hear him out.” 

Morgana sighed knowing that Mac knew something she didn’t. To save her hide, she changed her tune.  

She put down her shears and retreated into her backroom, far away from any customer’s earshot. “Fine, what business does a known psychopathic murderer want with my humble flower shop?” 

Joker snorted. Morgana’s shops were anything but humble. Lavish maybe.  

She had a partnership with EverFresh, (a mega supermarket) for Pete's sake, but he wasn’t going to argue. All that was on Joker’s mind was the night he wished to create for his Light and he would do anything necessary to make it happen since he failed twice now to deliver.  

It would be easier to demand and steal to get his way, but his Light would frown upon that. Joker would have to do this the hard way and unfortunately, that would take some time. 

“I would uh li-Ke....” J glanced at Mac for guidance and the blond quickly wrote on a legal pad for his boss to read. “I would like to.. order a custom floral arrangement.” J read back robotically.  

Mac didn’t know if the delivery would be enough to sway the florist. Joker clearly didn’t make it sound believable.  

Tense seconds passed where both men waited for Morgana’s response, and it came in the form of her laughter. “Now you’re speaking my language!”  

You stepped off the elevator and was promptly greeted by a new secretary seated at the front desk.  

Someone higher up must’ve let her know who you were since she didn’t stop you and ask for credentials. You were free to walk in as if you owned the place. In a way, you did.  

You were the most successful author signed within the publishing house. None of the other contracted authors were killing the game like you. You were Cindy’s pride and joy, and she made that wildly known within the firm. 

You kept your eyes straight on the path to her frosted monogrammed doors. 

People roamed about the large office space, working and mingling, yet it was all background noise to you. The goal was to avoid any interaction and especially with Cindy’s brash and all-around creepy business partner, Thomas Ford.  

He was bound to be lurking around this time of day.  

All these years and he still did not get the hint that you weren’t interested. You thought Bruce’s brief relationship of sorts with you would end any future encounters, but alas, nothing would deter this guy.  

The second you tip-toed pass Thomas' door; it opened in earnest. “Y/n! Long time to see!”  

His booming voice must be the source of many headaches around the firm. Nevertheless, you were taught manners and (regrettably) stopped in your tracks to reply. You turned with a tight smile masking your displeasure. “Mr. Ford..” You said curtly.  

Despite being notorious for eloquent word play, your brain conveniently decided to short circuit now of all times. Words failed you, as if Thomas noticed or cared. He simply stepped outside his door, leaning on the frame. 

“Now Y/n, we’ve known each other long enough for you to call me Thomas, unless you have a thing for titles then I totally understand.” He blocked the way to Cindy’s office and sent you a sly wink.  

Was that supposed to flatter you? 

If he didn’t reek of sexual harassment, you would have a better opinion of the man. He was decent looking, like any corporate male in a suit and tie would be you supposed. Joker had truly corrupted your view of the average male. Normal just didn’t cut it anymore. 

In any case, you were tired of men not knowing how to accept rejection, especially Thomas. “Riiiight. Um if you would excuse me, I have a meeting with Cindy.” 

“I’m afraid she stepped out.” 

The sentence made you stumble a bit in your heels. Surely you heard him incorrectly, but he looked rather confident while watching your clumsy reaction unfold. 

You blinked a mile a minute trying to reboot your system and as a result, your Blüdhaven accent slipped out a bit. “Whatchu mean she ‘stepped out’? I just hit her up this morning!” 

Thomas was taken aback hearing the sudden dialect, but he replied after a brief pause. “Cindy left over an hour ago. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here with me. If you want, we can catch a lunch together.” He stopped to leer at your body, “Or dessert.” 

Ew. “No thank you.” You said bitterly. You did not need this buffoonery this early in the day.  

You walked off and continued your journey, halfheartedly greeting others on your way to Cindy’s office when you couldn’t ignore them outright. Things seemed normal until you pushed the glass doors open and realized that the room was empty. She really wasn’t here.  

It didn’t make any sense to you. Cindy never left her office unless lunch wasn’t available for delivery and a runner was unable to pick it up. You jokingly scolded her once for not evacuating during a fire alarm so the notion that she just ‘up and left’ wasn’t clicking in your mind.  

Something wasn’t right here. You were about to dial her number when Thomas startled you from behind.  

“Is there something wrong, Y/n?”  

You yelped and faced the imposing male smiling down at you.  

You were used to his creepy behavior but today it was freaking you out even more. You weren’t expecting him to follow you in here and why didn’t you hear the door closing?  

You backed away, instinctively drifting towards the exit. “N-No, I’m just.. I’m calling Cindy.” 

“Why?”  

You fixed him with a sour glare, “Because! I don’t believe you and c-can you... please back up?” He ignored your request and rounded the decorative glass table holding published books to get closer to you. “Why? Does my presence bother you that much honeydew?” Thomas laughed.  

You froze in fear upon hearing the familiar nickname and your phone slipped from your hand, falling onto the floor.  

Thomas watched it fall and was about to tease you further for being a klutz when the office doors opened.  

Cindy walked in and immediately her eyes landed on her business partner. “What the…? Why are you in my office Ford?” She tossed her purse down and marched her way over.  

A few seconds passed before she noticed you kneeling on the floor with your hands covering your ears. “Oh my god, Y/n? Are you alright!?” She reached your side and looked you over. You were breathing erratically, shaking your head.  

When she received no response, she unleashed her ire. Her target was the man looking rather innocent while you slipped into a panic attack. “WHAT DID YOU DO?” She demanded.  

Thomas had the audacity to look offended. “Me? I didn’t do anything! I was just talking—” 

“F__k that. GET OUT. I’ll deal with you later.” She doted on you and gently smoothed your hair down but looked up when she didn’t hear Thomas leaving. He was still standing there watching you freak out.  

“Are you deaf? Get out or do I need to call security to help you?” Her threat pumped enough wind in his sails and she watched him go with narrowed eyes. Hearing your pitiful whimper redirected her focus back to you. “Hey. Y/n it's okay, he’s gone.” 

She waved her assistant away when they tried to walk in. Cindy didn’t want to anyone to see you in such a vulnerable state. She was completely out of her depth on how to handle this and needed reinforcements. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” 

You almost responded yes, but how would you explain that you wanted Cindy to call The Joker of all people to come to your rescue?  

He was the only person you wanted right now but his mere presence would only create more problems, so you shook your head in the negative.  

You knew you were scaring Cindy with your unusual behavior. She was used to your mellow and socially awkward nature whenever you visited the office but never this.  

You came here to work on finalizing your GothCon appearance not to have another mental breakdown in your manager’s office.  

These episodes were becoming increasingly more frequent, and you hated feeling powerless to stop them. Something had to change. You couldn’t let dark memories and harmless words keep triggering you like this.  

You had to take the initiative, starting now.  

You took a deep breath and started slapping your face to regain control of yourself. Cindy jumped, watching the assault take place. “Uh? Y/n?”  

“What? No, I-I'm fine.” You flinched away feeling her hand unexpectedly land on your arm. She noticed and let it drop just as quickly as she offered it.  

An awkward silence enveloped the room, and Cindy was the brave person to cut the tension. She didn’t know how to address this but pressed on anyhow. 

“Y/n? Did he?” She paused, not liking how you visibly bristled. “Did Thomas hurt you?” 

What a loaded question. Would she even do anything if you told her that Thomas, her business partner for years, was an overall creep and constantly harassed you?  

Cindy might be a close friend, but she was a businesswoman first, stuck in a man’s world.  

Men like Thomas were never the problem, instead it was the female who complained that received backlash. He would laugh off your accusations, calling it harmless banter and the trouble that went to speaking up, would only come back to haunt you. There would be awkward tension between you and Cindy and the executives of the publishing house—that Thomas was conveniently a member of.  

Ford took you as the type of male to abuse his power and you read many a tale about how the victims were scorned by powerful men. He would make your life miserable for daring to speak the truth.  

You refused to let Thomas ruin your career and life all because of a few ‘harmless comments.’  

You knew the system well enough to know unless things became physical, (with proper evidence) complaining would do nothing.  

With that mindset you were resigned to keep quiet but not for long. You had a special card up your sleeve.  

Cindy called your name and repeated her question on the off chance that you might’ve not heard it.  

Instead of answering, you brushed imaginary dust from your sweater dress and rose from the floor. “Anyhoo, I was thinking, a big movie announcement followed by a controlled Q&A slot. Maybe five to ten minutes and then round out the allotted presentation time with a new book teaser.” 

You made yourself comfortable on her meeting couch and continued to brainstorm aloud only to be interrupted. 

“Y/n.. I asked you a question.” Cindy was flabbergasted at how you easily brushed off her concern. In her eyes, your flippant attitude raised major red flags and after your visit, she would be investigating her business partner thoroughly to get some answers.  

Right now, she was worried about you. It wasn’t like you to dismiss things so casually. Although you made your intentions clear with a fixed glare.  

“Cindy... I am here to sign contracts and finalize the convention details. I do not have enough spoons left for anything else.”  

Your voice cracked about halfway through, and you could tell when Cindy understood just how close you were to walking out.  

You wanted her to stick to the script. As your manager she could play along and act professional—but Cindy considered herself your friend. She could tell this was seriously bothering you more than it should.  

It pained her to ignore the elephant in the room but if this was your way of coping, so be it.  

Cindy cleared her throat and went to grab her tablet from off her desk before joining you back on the couch, sitting across from you. “Right. Um... New book teaser! Let’s talk about that.” 

You were grateful for the change of subject and relaxed into your role as her client. Sure enough, as the hour passed, things settled into a good rhythm although Cindy still kept a weary eye on you.  

Lunch and mindless paperwork out of the way, she opened her arms for a goodbye hug, only for you to shy away and scramble out her office without a word.  

Cindy tried not to be offended; you were always weird about physical contact. She just thought today would be different. You looked like you needed a shoulder to lean on.  

Nevertheless, Cindy waited a few minutes for you to leave the building before she made a phone call. It rang for a bit until a cheery voice answered.  

Cindy didn’t waste anytime getting to the point. “Hey Barb. Something is wrong with Y/n. Fill me in on what you know.”  

[noxer]

"Getaway - from hero to zero"

DISCLAIMER: Everything expressed is a subjective opinion that does not claim to be true or significant, I am not justifying anyone, and all this is necessary to simply examine one character under a magnifying glass.

I really love Getaway as a character because you can endlessly interpret him and his actions, even though he only appears in MTMTE and LL, which I remember were written by the same writing team. Getaway is interesting as an antagonist, especially since at first he is presented as a rather likeable character, and at the time of the events of MTMTE his motivation is still quite understandable. And the fact that it's getting such a negative reaction shows how well it's written (or how much people like Cygate). And he’s so pathetic that I want to tenderly bite his head off. So I want to put together what we have on this special agent and see what he’s like. After all, despite the fact that he is revealed to us in comics, we can only guess about many details, since the writers could not show everything as it is, so as not to disrupt the intrigue.

First steps

The only thing we know about Getaway's past is his telling Tailgate about his first battle, from which the newly activated Getaway escaped. I don’t want to analyze specifically the act itself, because it is quite difficult to judge whether this escape was justified or not (pro - what else did the Autobots expect from a newborn?; con - the other MTO, it seems, remained to fight). I want to talk more about the impact of this act on Getaway's personality. Because Getaway is definitely ashamed of what happened, since it doesn’t fit into the image he wants to create. The only reason he shares this story with Tailgate is to a) make Tailgate feel sorry for him; b) instill in Tailgate an even greater sense of hostility towards Decepticons; c) a kind of therapy - he needs to share this with someone, and he doesn’t feel an emotional attachment to Tailgate, that is, he doesn’t care what he thinks about him, plus, Tailgate still has to die according to the plan, which means he’s already won't tell anyone anything.

Shame in most cases leads to anger, either at oneself or at others. Getaway chooses the second, and begins to slowly accumulate resentment and anger towards both the Autobots and the Decepticons, that is, towards those who started this war and thus forced him to be born as a soldier. In addition, the feeling that he is now forever branded a coward lays the first bricks of Getaway's exorbitant ambitions, as a way to make amends for his initial transgression. Let's add to this the very status of Getaway as literally a consumable item - the fact that he could die in the first minutes of his life was quite expected. Then attempts to become something big become a matter not only of ambition, but also of banal survival, because a specialist is less likely to be sent directly under fire than an ordinary soldier.

Diplomatic corps

We know almost nothing about Getaway’s work in the special unit. What I want to highlight here is Getaway's attitude towards Prowl. He clearly has a certain respect for him, and we have no reason to believe that this respect is feigned, if only because Getaway's behavior is in many ways a copy of Prowl's, only a little more inept. Getaway tries to manipulate like Prowl, tries to scheme like Prowl, but since he has less experience being the one who plans the operations rather than the one who executes them, things do not go entirely smoothly. Honestly, I can't get out of my head the image of Prowl berating Getaway not for attempted mutiny, but for how clumsy it was.

I mean, his entire plan rested on one Tailgate, and if something happened (and it did), all, literally all the threads would lead to Getaway. Getaway tries to be smart and accurate, but in the end his actions still amount to brutal blows to the head (sometimes literally), simply because that's how Getaway is used to acting. He is an operative, not a tactician or strategist. He acts here and now, with small goals like “kill X”, “successfully escape”, “survive”, and when fate confronts him with the need for long-term planning, Getaway simply cannot cope. No matter how manipulative the scriptwriters make him out to be, for the most part Getaway behaves almost instinctively. I highlight this this way because a similar pattern of “a small person (bot) trying to seem like something big” is clearly visible in Getaway’s behavior almost always. He tries to be an Autobot, but escapes from his first battle. He tries to be an "evil genius", but in the end, all his plans fail and he gets through only through luck and evil chaotic throwing, in the hope that something will work. He wants to become Prime, but does everything to ensure that his name is associated with this title as little as possible. Getaway may be a villain, but he's primarily a failed villain, not a villain with a plan.

"Primus apotheosis" - or similar symptoms?

I'm actually very wary of the whole "primus apotheosis" situation, because it was only added in LL, and therefore there are some doubts and inconsistencies with MTMTE, but more on that a little later. What do we know at all: there are certain signs that distinguish Prime from among ordinary bots, and Getaway, having discovered them in himself, becomes fixated on this. Why is that? Back to the “I’m-more-than-I-seem” pattern. For Getaway, it is important to be more significant than he is, so much so that he is ready to cling to semi-mythical descriptions just to feel better. In fact, these signs are no better than some “aryan standards” - they are just an easy way to gain superiority over others. For Getaway, “primus apotheosis” is only a consequence of his ambitions and inferiority complex, which took this form due to the war surrounding him and a certain “cult of Prime” that reigned among the Autobots. Since 1) i am a doctor not in the field of psychology, 2) we have no information about the Cybertronian psyche, 3) Freud’s diagnoses is not the most reliable, in principle, it is difficult to say whether Getaway actually has such a disorder, but if yes, it fits perfectly into his image.

Also, the “primus apotheosis” fits into another aspect of Getaway’s personality – his rather contradictory relationship with their god. The Autobots, unlike the Decepticons, in some places still retain a somewhat functional attitude, as well as faith in Primus. From this point of view, Getaway is in a rather unenviable position - he is a MTO who ran away from his battle, that is, in some sense, did not fulfill his function, he is constructed cold, that have long been considered second-class, he is a murderer, no matter what he said. And Getaway simultaneously hates Primus for who he created him, who he forced him to be, and longs for recognition and forgiveness from him. Becoming a Prime was about affirming that he was worthy, that he was forgiven, that everything he had done was right. Because if sinners like Optimus and Rodimus could become Primes, then so could Getaway.

Mutiny

We already know that Getaway hates his origins, and this anger is constantly projected onto others, but especially Megatron. The logical chain is as follows: “if you had not started the war, I would not have been created as MTO, I would not have had to become what I became, I would not have had to prove my right to life, I could have been like others.” For Getaway, Megatron is another obstacle to being as valuable as the others. He dared to start this war, and made Getaway's life like this. I also wonder if Getaway might see killing Megatron as some kind of “redemption”? "I killed the greatest monster in our history, something previous Primes couldn't do, I'm not that hopeless, right?" However, even if you remove the specific reasons, Getaway will still have the motivation to get rid of Megatron, because of whom many, many cybertronians died. Removing the one who started and supported the most destructive war of your species away sounds like a good reason. And Getaway does everything for this purpose, at least until the ill-fated events of LL.

Crucial moment

The difference between Getaway MTMTE and Getaway LL is quite noticeable. In MTMTE, Getaway is motivated precisely by his hatred of Megatron as a military leader; his “primus apotheosis” was only added into LL. In MTMTE, Getaway really was a mini-Prowl - he had a completely understandable and even justified motivation - to get rid of an objectively dangerous crew member - which he solves in a not the most humane way, using Tailgate. Getaway in MTMTE has a lot of likeable traits until we are gradually introduced to his slightly less pleasant sides, making it difficult for us to know how to feel about him. Yes, he put one of the beloved characters in danger, but he did it for a reason we can understand. We get asked a pretty tough question, which is great, right?

Now forget all this. Because in LL, Getaway does terrible things for terrible reasons, and his “primus apotheosis” is revealed, and it just becomes difficult for us to respect him at least as a villain.

But why is this even the case?

Doylist explanation

It was vital to the writers that the core cast was Always Right™. In MTMTE, it was quite easy to sympathize with Getaway (unless you are a fierce fan of Tailgate and Cygate). And since the main goal was the redemption of Megatron, Getaway had to be removed. Because Getaway's character asked this question: "Maybe Megatron can redeem himself. Maybe he deserves it. But what if we, who suffered from his decisions, are physically unable to forgive him after all? Don't we deserve our good ending?" And the writers didn't have an answer to that question (because there's no right answer). And they had to make Getaway much worse so that readers would not have the slightest desire to understand and and accept his ideas.

Watsonian explanation

Getaway has really, truly gone crazy. He has currently spent some time in a cell, unable to move or speak, having previously been held captive by Tyrest for an undetermined amount of time. Yes, Getaway is an operative, his psyche must be prepared, but everyone has their own limit of strength. Getaway later leaves the team at the mercy of DJD because they were the ones who threw him into the cell, even though he was doing them a favor by getting rid of Megatron. Thus, he allows his partner and friend to die, which is also unlikely to contribute to mental health. And as time goes on, Getaway's actions become increasingly desperate and insane in an attempt to survive and reach Cyberutopia, where he hopes he can find forgiveness for all the terrible things he has done. In the end, his last actions are, in order, 1) an attempt to blow up the ship along with himself; 2) unsuccessful suicide attempt; 3) an absolutely senseless attack on Cyclonus, either out of desperation or in the hope that he would kill him; 4) he lost his sense of reality so much that he believed the illusion created by the scraplet colony. By the end of LL, Getaway is more of a hunted animal than the calculating saboteur he was in MTMTE.

Bottom line

So what do we get in the bottom line? Getaway was destined from birth to become a bargaining chip in a conflict to which he had nothing to do. His unsuccessful "debut" began his quest to become something significant, in the hopes that others would forget who he was. Prowl gives him this opportunity, which is why Getaway begins to see him as a role model, adopting his worldview, ways of acting and attitude towards others. At the same time, Getaway “grows up” in an environment where some stereotypes and prejudices, including religious ones, still persist, and there is also an idealized figure of Prime. Since his promotion to special agent has hardly changed anything for Getaway about himself, he becomes fixated on the supposed signs (perhaps with the occasional intervention from Skids), although most of the time he "keeps it under control" until something serious happens. Getaway has loyalties and principles, he can have feelings towards others, and I don't believe his attempts to kill Megatron were always purely selfish. But Getaway puts these feelings aside in favor of “more important things,” because the fear of being a nobody again, of being just MTO running away from battle, is stronger than all his attachments. Getaway is a terrible (and rather unhappy) bot, not because he has always been like this, as they tried to present it in LL, but because between real significance - being important to someone - he chooses false significance - being important to everyone, which the same as being important to no one. It is still easier for Getaway to run away, chasing something illusory, than to fight for something important. And no one is to blame for this but him.

[oddballwriter]

Appetite

Summary: You have a very high and demanding libido and the boys both are willing to and victim of needing to satisfy it.

Warnings: The reader's gender, exact anatomy, and pronouns are never mentioned but they are a power bottom and or are the ones getting penetrated but are very much in control of the situation. Sub!moon boys and dom!reader if you squint. Groping. Ass slapping (Marc's ass). Overstimulation. Riding. Implied creampies/ not pulling out (wrap it before you tap and or get it). Reader giving oral. Edging.  

Author’s Snip: I'm on my freak shit tonight. Never let me listen to S.H.O. by Baby Tate and Sexy Naughty Bitchy by Tata Young while ovulating or else fictional grown men are getting fucked. Submissive bitches, this one is unfortunately not for you.

Notes: I wrote Jake's part three different times and had to write it after getting off my flow so if it sucks (lol) I'm sorry. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,328

The boys love you and everything about you. But one thing that they weren't expecting to come along with you, was your libido. Not that there was anything wrong with you having a huge one. After all, no one who partakes in sex ever complains about it. The problem was what that entails for them and maintaining it.

-

"Baby, please," Marc says under his breath while he feels you hold him from behind and kiss his neck as he washes the dishes from the two of you having finished dinner. Marc wasn't dumb, he knew you were eyeing him up after you came back from work and he had dinner ready for you, and he knows that you know that holding and kissing him like this riles him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything right now," you say as you give the gap between his neck and collarbone another sensual kiss. "Maybe after you're done washing the dishes we can do something if you want." you suggest, teasingly wording it like he's the one who had the dirty idea.

"I would be getting it done faster if you weren't feeling up my waist like that." Marc claps back, making it clear that he can see and feel your hands moving around. "I could be making it worse." you tease as your hands lower a bit and nip at his skin.

Marc stills for a second, trying to keep back a labored breath that would give away that your little touches are getting to him. Well, it's not that good because he knows that if your hands got any lower then you'd feel his hard-on against the fabric of his pants. "Why don't you just take care of it yourself?" Marc suggests, "We were at it last night. Wasn't that good?" Marc mentions.

"But what if I want a second round of last night?" you question as you squeeze him a little tighter. Marc feels cornered, but in a sexy way that really shouldn't be getting him this much. He felt like a fly that was watching itself be rolled up into the spider's silk, or even a mouse getting coiled by a snake. He knew that he had nowhere to run but also didn't hate it either.

"You had plenty of rounds last night-" Marc tries to bring up but the tail end of his sentence is drawn out a bit as he feels your hand travel down his stomach towards the belt of his pants and your pinky finger break through the waistband. He feels his blood rush downwards and also upwards, making his cheeks out in a blush over letting himself slip up. He can sense your smile and doesn't say anything when you reply with "You were saying?" in a smug and snarky tone.

"Just let me finish the fucking dishes first. Please." Marc pleads. "Go to the bedroom or something. I'll wash my hands and be there. Just let me do the damn dishes." Marc says to add to his plea so that you'll stop with the teasing.

Marc almost breathes a sigh of relief when you unsnake your arms form around his body, but you leave with a "I'll be waiting." paired with an extra nip and kiss at his neck and slap on his ass.

-

Hearing the boys moan and overall vocalize their pleasure during sex was something that you loved to hear. But Steven was one of your favorites.

His whines and moans as he came blocked out the sound of the documentary film that you were watching on TV. It was a rerun of something that both you and Steven have watched a few times. So in your mind, you didn't need to hear what they were saying.

Steven let out shakey breaths as he recovered from his high, his third one, to be exact, with you doing the same. He made an attempt to pull away and pull out of you but your grip on his shoulder stopped him from going completely out, making Steven whine.

"Again." you demand as you even out your breath. "But we've already gone three times, love." Steven begs. "Come on. One more time, to make it even." you insist. You sit up just a little from your position on the couch so that you can place your mouth next to his ear and kiss it, knowing full well that that's his own weak spot, and using your free hand to teasingly stroke his stiff cock that's outside of you so that it stays hard.

Steven moans at the touch and feeling on his ear. He knows that you're telling him a lie and that you'll make him keep going till he's nearly passed out, but most of his blood is somewhere else rather than in his brain to help him think clearly. And even then the thoughts that he's having with his other think of head is winning the popular vote.

He's too busy trying to think through his clouded mind that you try to help him out in making the decision for him by pulling him closer to you, making him slowly go back inside of you. Steven shutters and lets out even more small quiet moans as he feels your walls glide along him again. His poor thing is aching from use but he can't seem to get himself to stop wanting to keep going.

Steven makes an attempt to go round four but he can't seem to do it,. So you, again, take the initiative and push him back so that he's now the one lying on the couch and then startle him. Steven gives you a look that shows that he knows you really aren't going to let up any time soon.

-

"Shit~" Jake moans out as you give him head in the backseat of his car.

In the small space, Jake and you can only hear the sound of you bobbing your head and the battered breaths and moans coming from Jake, which is a thing that weirdly gets Jake off more when you two get down in the car.

"Slow down, god." Jake pleads, feeling himself start to come the longer he lets you go on. You look up at him and pop your mouth off but keep him going with your hand stroking him at the same pace. "What's the matter? I thought we were in a spot where no one would see us?" you mention while you glance up at him from your place on the floor of the car.

"We are," Jake repeats as he focuses on not coming just yet, "But if you keep doing it like that I'm gonna...~" he can't finish his own sentence and even think about the last word, or else he will actually lose it. He looked and felt like he was trying to hold in a sneeze.

"I thought you liked it when I made you come fast." you question as you lick the precum from his tip that was leaking out. Jake shivers from the feeling but recollects himself. "I do." he confirms, "You just used me up too much last night and I don't think I've made it back yet." he explains.

"Well then I guess I'll just make you come once." you say before you go back to sucking him off, but this time with a pace that doesn't send him over the edge just yet.

After a while, he starts reaching it again and is more willing to have it happen. Jake starts talking under his breath saying "That's it. Just like that.". Just as he starts reaching his limit and about to get to a point where he can let it all out, you pop your mouth off his cock again. He looks down at you in shock that you suddenly stopped.

"Well, I don't want you to come yet." you smile as you watch Jake lose it and start up again.

[see-arcane]

Well. I just read the Robert Eggers Nosferatu (2024) script in its nascent 2016 form. Quick and haunted thanks to @nosferattusx2 for making me aware of its existence. It’s here on the Internet Archive if you want to give it a look yourselves.

I don’t know if it’s legit, but it seems precariously close to the trailers. Even if it is the real thing, it’s also an eight-year-old rendition of the script, so there’s no guarantee of it being an exact mirror of what will hit theaters. That being said?

It’s. A lot.

SPOILERS BELOW

I won’t regurgitate the whole thing here, just the main bits that stood out to me for better or worse:

For a guy who says he's very against the sexy romantic vampire trope, Eggers makes sure to have everyone getting scared and horny over Orlok at every opportunity. I will give him grudging kudos for not confining this strictly to Ellen or otherwise Just the Ladies~. The thing opens on Knock stroking himself to the concept of the guy and Thomas gets his own erotic/assault-flavored attack from Orlok at the castle with future allusions framing it in a distinctly sexual framework. Ellen is set up as the ~darkly tempted Eve to Orlok’s Adam~ but it’s not aggressively mega-hetero about it. Progress?

Thomas arrives in Orlok territory and immediately gets swarmed and pickpocketed by smelly-masculine Romani people (referred to strictly by the g word through the script) bar the one pretty young teenage girl one who we later get to see riding naked on a horse because only naked virgin girls can lead the group to hidden vampires for their destruction. Yeah.

…

Bobby Egg, I can get behind the VVitch using seductive evil weirdness and I see why mermaids would swim around topless, but. What the fuck? And also follow-up what the fuckery to the whole portrayal of these guys, period? On that note.

Here we see the first example of Thomas being Assigned Twink at Comparison to All the Other Men. Eggers frames him as insecure beside the masculine Romani and has a future character refer to him as a ‘dandy’ (despite that being a term reserved for men who were well-off, not just effeminate/less than manfully manful). To Bobby Egg’s slight credit, Thomas is not portrayed negatively or milksop-shaped because of this; it’s just. Kind of there. All the time.

Count Orlok’s description isn’t bad. Very ominous, very classic gothic-supernatural. I do appreciate that he’s explicitly given more corpse-like attributes, making him seem like a mobile cadaver more than anything else. And Eggers does keep him creepy—no stealthy Count Fuckula spit-shining on him.

Shovel scene sort of happens as an original Dracula nod, but with no payoff. An attempt was made and thrown away.

Ellen. Oh, Ellen. Such a double-edged piece of work here. On the one hand, this version of the script implies that she isn’t doing the classic bastardized Mina thing of deciding her lame lameo human husband isn’t good enough for her and she needs herself a REAL MAN. There’s a lot of the original Thomas and Ellen’s genuine love and regard shown in the couple…

…up to a point. Eggers writes them a very very ugly and basically wholly OOC argument to do with Thomas claiming he wed her out of pity and saying she ought to have been sent to a madhouse when she was young, which itself was a follow-up to Ellen yelling that Orlok’s work is all his fault in a weirdly victim-blamey way and a scene that felt less like a badly done seduction and more like she was trying to actually assault him. They seemingly both reconcile after this, but like…what the entire hell?

Okay, to get this out of the way—I think Eggers is trying to lean hard into the ‘well in the actual time and place of the story things would be so grimdark and depressing, so it has to be nasty even between the loving main couple, and it adds to the horror-misery of it all, and it makes Ellen’s dark temptation~ more reasonable!’ thing. We can see a lot of that in how he sets Ellen up to have a history of dark thoughts, a lot of stigma surrounding her sanity/insanity, and there’s some very cruel medical ‘treatment’ she gets subjected to during her fits while waiting for Thomas and/or Orlok to arrive. Naturally those fits are all sexual/orgasmically twitchy because of course. Eggers is very much trying to set Ellen up as sympathetic in her situation and as a kind of next evolution to the Francisified Mina character who wants to fuck Dracula/Orlok/Death so so bad~

And then we get to the Van Helsing stand-in, Von Franz, and he is…oh man. 90% of his bits are fun. Interesting. The last 10% would make Abraham van Helsing in every iteration punch through the fourth wall and beat him to death with their library books. Surprise, Von Franz and Ellen both secretly colluded to set up the sunrise trap that will inevitably kill Ellen via Orlok feeding on her into the dawn. Von Franz purposefully leads the vampire hunter crew astray, including Thomas. When Thomas discovers this—from Knock who he mistakenly staked in Orlok’s place due to a mix-up with the coffin—Von Franz laughs as Thomas and Dr. Sievers the pseudo-Jack Seward make a run back to the house to try and save her.

The climax comes with Ellen and Orlok playing out the original Nosferatu ending. She dies happily cradling Orlok’s carcass. Thomas reaches her bedside and collapses in despair. The script closes on Von Franz showing up with a lilac bouquet and putting his hand on Thomas’ shoulder as he grieves, still unmoved from the bedside. Close on Ellen’s dead face ‘at peace.’

Somehow the scene doesn’t end with Thomas wringing Von Franz’ neck.   

There’s a lot more to read in there, obviously, but those were just all the big lumps sticking out of it to me.

I will grudgingly say it is not the absolute worst-case scenario I was afraid of. It’s not what I was hoping for—but that is keeping in line with Dracula and Nosferatu-adjacent media, per tradition. I do still want to see the film, I do want to like the finished product, even with the worrisome second trailer and sundry interviews throwing up red flags. Like The Last Voyage of the Demeter, it is at least an earnest attempt at taking this vein of classic gothic vampire horror seriously as a horror story.

But also.

I would really like directors to stop turning the Mina-Ellen figure into the vampire-pining gothic blowup doll for the latest ‘Bold and Subversive’ take #1654237 of GIRL AND THE DRACULA DO KISSY SEXY ROMANCE TIMES. An impossible dream, I guess.   

[jamiedc-they-them]

Family (Platonic)

This one is a bit long!!! Nimona was so good, and meant so much to me! Wanted to do this as soon as I saw the film and have finally completed it! Just a quick warning, story contains some mentions of self doubt over lgbt identity, some mentions of Suicidal Ideation, and I think that is all (if I have forgotten anything, please let me know!!!). All my love to my lgbt siblings with everything going on right now <333 you matter so damn much! And this film coming at a time like this (and even more so after I learnt about the author of the graphic novel!) is everything!

Also, all my love to the WGA and SAG-AFTRA, keep fighting the good fight!!! I wouldn’t be here writing this (or really any fanfic) without your incredible writing and work! <333

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Nimona and Y/N are not siblings by blood, but choice, friendship, and loyalty. They find that support and acceptance in each other; but, when they catch wind of a knight who is just has hated as them, they see an opportunity to find someone else to add to their family.

If you had parents, you didn’t know them.

You just remembered always being out in the streets, just about standing by.

You never stole, you just took whatever left others you either found, or were given out of sympathy.

Pity did get you a long way, you had to admit.

People felt sorry for you, but then did nothing else to help you.

While it hurt, it never really put a chip on your shoulder. There was nothing anything you could do anyway. You couldn’t fight. You didn’t have a lot of strength in you.

One time, a group of people decided to leverage that. People like you; left behind and given nothing but scraps. Instead of coming together, however, they saw you as a weak link; something to blame for their issues and lot in life.

Just when you thought that would be it for you, someone called out. The pain stopped, but even if it lingered. You weren’t hit again. Your hearing was fuzzy, eyesight blurry.

You blacked in and out a few times.

When you came to, you are on a couch. You hear someone humming. You sit up, slowly, and see a girl around your age cooking.

“Oh, hey!” She says, turning back to you with a smile on her face, “don’t worry about those guys,” she assures you, “I took care of them.”

She seems almost proud.

Still, you just feel good that they’re gone now.

“You can have some of this, if you want,” she says, gesturing to her food.

“I don’t…I don’t want to be a burden,” you say.

You hear a growl, and see a red tiger in front of you, baring it’s teeth, “who said that?” She demands.

“No one really. Just…just the vibe, I guess?”

You look down, subconsciously; the girl seems to notice this, only watching you as you scramble to find the words you need. Then —

“I’m sorry…for not – for not knowing anymore. Could use someone like you out there.”

You feel something on your leg. Looking down, you see a red cat, rubbing itself on your leg. It looks up at you, before jumping on the couch.

“It’s not your fault, kid,” the cat says, “we’ll find them.”

You stroke the cat again. You feel safe. Sure, it’s a talking cat, but the cat was a girl a minute ago. You’ve seen what the world can hold magic wise. You know different things exist. Some people thrown out for all sorts of things they can’t control; this is that for her.

“‘We’?” You echo back to her, as she changes back to her redheaded form, arms crossed with a smirk on her face.

“Hell yeah, us!” She says, arms now up in the air, “we can watch each others back! Like a –“ her eyes light up, “like a sidekick!”

Something in your eyes brighten; something in hers soften, slightly.

They both do that a bit more as your smile widens, “ok then, where do we start?”

“Well, how about names?” She says, but there’s excitement in her eyes, “I’m Nimona!” She says, holding her hand out.

“I’m…” you say, holding out your hand and then pausing, “oh…”

She seems to catch onto what you mean, “I have a bunch of lists of names if you want to look?” She offers.

You nod, eagerly, and she fetches it – throwing some other items over her shoulder while she looks. She presents it to you. It’s a massive scroll that unfurls, “take your pick!” She says, arms outstretched to it like a ‘ta-da’ like pose. She’s proud of it.

You do pick one, even if it takes a bit of time. Still, you find one that works for you:

Y/N.

“Had a feeling you’d like that one,” she says, “I like it!”

You smile again. She does too, even if hers looks a bit like a snarl in a way; seems she’s already thinking of the damage you’ll do together. For you though, it’s about not being alone anymore.

You do get up to trouble. A lot of trouble. You paint art on walls; you play pranks on the guards so you can get somewhere – or sometimes just for fun.

Nimona’s ability to shapeshift is so damn cool. Internally, she feels a spark of happiness she hasn’t felt in a long time at your genuine acceptance and awe of her ability.

She, in turn, helps you find yourself as well. Your style, clothing wise. She notes things that make you uncomfortable as well. Sometimes that leads to deep chats; like the one you have about your lack of care for anything to do with sex or romance, or gender norms.

All she has to say to that is, “metal. Norms are for losers, anyway. I mean, end of the day, you’re Y/N, and I’m Nimona. That’s all that matters.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s something small or major that changes identity wise, her words are always the same and always true.

Her loyalty to you is the same as yours is to hers. You’re always defending her – despite her not always needing it – and backing her up in fights.

You always assure her she has you. You see her moments of vulnerability. Where the mask sort of drops. She always appreciates it. As while she’s not like you in the way of comforting people, she tries to learn from your softness and comforting manners.

You’re all each other have. At least, for a while anyway. You see the news of the manhunt for a man who killed the queen. Someone almost as hated as you are.

Nimona looks to you, and you know what your best friend is thinking.

So, you track him down. She does the talking; though at one point Ballister does look at you and seem to start implying you’re a monster to, and says, “hey, don’t look at them. Look at me,” he complies as he sees you looking around his room. You’re a curious thing.

“What — um, who are…?”

She raises an eyebrow, “they,” she starts, “are Y/N. My best friend and partner in crime and all things evil,” she then leans forward, “and I’m Nimona.”

“Yes…but, what does that mean?” He asks, trying not to piss her off. In his mind, scared he’ll become one of her – he’s sure – many victims.

A smirk appears on her face as she answers, “whatever we want it to mean.”

“Right. Yes. Ok,” he says, “that’s understandable.”

He sees you fiddling with one of his spare arms, “please be careful with that!” He says in fear. You put it back carefully, backing away from it. Nimona raises an eyebrow, letting you handle this. She knows you’re tougher than you look. Don’t get her wrong, you look better now; both a bit more comfortable in your own skin, but also decently fed.

“What is that?” You ask.

“Oh…it’s one of my spares. Just an old prototype I guess, for this,” he says, gesturing to his arm.

“Hm,” you say, looking at it and then the old version, “it’s always nice to have a spare.”

“Like a sidekick!” Nimona says, adding it one to try and persuade the knight – or ex-knight you guessed.

“No, no! Those things do not match!”

“Oh, come on!” Nimona snaps at Ballister. You just watch the interaction go on. She’s always been a stubborn one.

Still, he leaves on his own. You sigh, looking to your friend, “come on,” you say, opening the door to go to where he will end up.

“Ok, kid. You ok with a quick flight?” Nimona asks you as you look at the scale of the building. It’s intimidating; that, and heights were never your thing.

You gulp, “y-yeah.”

“Alright!” She says, happy you’re trying to put yourself out there more.

So, up you go. Despite the fact that she can shapeshift, she keeps you in mind as well as you sneak into the cells section. You do, however, keep watch, letting her go into the cell and break Ballister out the old fashion way – and the way she more enjoys, violently punching the release.

In the closet, you help keep it closed, finding more items. Out of the two, you’ve always been the more resourceful one.

She gives you a single look after Ballister makes his promise. You know what she’s going to do, so you just pull Ballister back a bit as Nimona shifts once again.

Having had some close calls and only gotten away via her shifting, you’re able to stay on better than Ballister, though you do help him when you can reach him. As for you and Nimona, however, you’re pretty much in synch with each other.

However, then comes the need for an exit. You know Nimona can fly, but she can’t hold both of you. So —

“I’ll lead them away,” you say, not allowing anyone to stop you as you take off in the opposite direction.

“Y/N, no! Come back!” Nimona calls out to you. She knows you are quick on your feet, but this is a bad place to try to be. Don’t get her wrong, she’s having fun causing havoc, but now what she might gain in a boss, she may lose a friend. She won’t do that.

Still, nothing she can do. Boss comes first.

So, off she goes, getting them both to the floor.

“Do you see them?” Nimona asks; and he hears the concern in her voice. She’s violent, but cares a lot. He respects that. Despite being surround and fighting, he tries as much as he can to keep an eye out for you.

“There!” He shouts, pointing up before dodging another strike.

Nimona turns as well, smirking, but concern still in her eyes as she sees you near a ledge. You don’t even think about it, you just jump.

So, with the wings once again, she flies upwards, dodging any attacks, before catching you and bring you down to the ground.

You both roll, before joining the Frey once again. You’ve never been as good in fights as her, but your agility and quick thinking does help. Nimona goes more aggressive once she sees Ballister in trouble. You go around some of the guards to help, but you’re taken down too.

That’s only enrages her further.

After you escape, you both start to bond with him. And, he seems a bit more at ease with you both now. You did break him out after all. So, he lets you help. Being a bit more open to ideas.

You all get down to the subway, seeing your wanted images. Somehow, you had never been photographed, so you were just a question mark. Seemed fitting, in a way, you guessed.

“Hm, no,” your best friend says, looking from you to the question mark you, “I don’t see the semblance.”

You roll your eyes, and she just giggles to herself. Ballister watches you both, eyes softening slightly at your genuine friendship and connection.

On the subway, he asks you guys, “so, how long have you both known each other?”

You share a look; her’s is asking if you want to say it, and also asking if you are ok with it being said; yours is the same.

You both shrug. She goes first with her tale, using it to make fun of Ballister.

He still seems a little disturbed by her ability to shift, even asking her to go back a to the ‘normal’ version of her. You both raise eyebrows at him. Sure, he tries to cover up by saying that it’s for other people, and not him, but you don’t exactly buy it.

“Are some of your best friends, ‘normal’?” You say, having heard that before with some people trying to cover up their hatred for you by saying that they know others. It’s bullshit.

“What? I — I, no… No, that’s not what I meant —“ he says, trying to correct his error.

“Too late,” you say, folding your arms, looking away.

Nimona changes back to her human self, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Ballister says. You keep looking away.

“Boss means it, Y/NN,” Nimona says, squeezing your shoulder a bit.

Ballister goes to say something else, but Nimona only holds up a hand. He nods, knowing that this is your moment. You need your own breather.

After a moment, you look up at him, seeing his eyes holding a genuine guilt to it. And a plead to make this all better. It’s the first time someone other than Nimona has looked at you. Like a person. A friend, maybe even.

You look at your best friend, the only person you’ve ever been able to call family, and she gives you a smile. You mirror it, putting your hand on top of hers.

“Thanks, Nim,” you say softly.

She removes her hand, before nudging you with her arm, “course, squirt. You and me, right?” She says, holding out her pinky finger. You link yours to hers.

“You and me. Nimona and Y/N.”

“And that’s all that matters.”

Ballister smiles. Then a thought comes to him about the question he asked but didn’t get answers to.

“Are you guys siblings?”

You look at each other again, and nod in sync.

“Closest we’ll ever get to it.”

“That’s cool,” he says, “seriously. Having a friend is…it must be nice.”

Again, you share a look; your journeys have been rough, and you’ve saved each other more times than you can count, but he’s right.

Nimona changes to a small boy, and you smile at her comment of “I am today,” before she goes off to do her part of this hastily cobbled together plan.

Ballister notices your look, “what’s wrong?”

“Just…it’s weird.”

Ballister chuckles, but not in a mean why; more surprise than anything else, “can’t be, especially not compared to my day so far.”

You nod, only really half listening. But, the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, “I don’t…I don’t feel a fit in with…all this,” you say, pointing to him and then a random woman across the road, “and Nim…she’s fluid with it, you know? Labels don’t really matter to her. I like them. But…I can’t find the right ones. We do our names, and it works and it…I mean, it’s a statement and I love that, really. I just — I don’t know.”

“We’ll find it,” he says, not catching himself on the first word, “trust me, from what I’ve seen of Nimona, she’d burn it all down for you to find it.”

“We’ve taken up too much time,” you say, clearing your throat, gesturing for him to follow you, as you watch the man Nimona was – well, once distracting, but now chasing, went around the corner, “sorry.”

You don’t give him time to say anything back in return, you just take his hand and lead him out into the street once again, trying to find a getaway.

He recognises someone; the one with the punchable face? Maybe, you can’t quite remember. Either way, Ballister is terrified.

He hastily gets you into the vehicle with him, but you do see Nimona with a giddy smile as she shuts the boot.

Then, off you go, though Nimona does call out to you to get down.

With nothing but blind luck, you make it to an alley way. Ballister freaks out at Nimona being hurt, but she doesn’t show it hurts that much. You’re sure it does, but not as much as what is going on inside of her. You sit on the boot of the vehicle as they talk, though they do make their conversation loud enough to make you feel included.

You watch with soft eyes at the interaction, and how Nimona describes it all. When she jumps down when saying “I just wouldn’t be me,” she puts a hand on your leg too, “just like they wouldn’t be them.”

She then nudges you, “go on, bud,” she says softly, gesturing over to the bench, “go have your lil session. I’ll stay with this guy,” she says, jumping up on the boot, legs swinging.

Silently, you go over to Ballister. He looks at a cut on your arm. You aren’t entirely sure when you got it, but he does what he can to clean it.

“May I try ask again how you met?”

“Sure,” you say, looking to Nimona, she nods, encouraging smile in tow, “not the greatest of origin stories. I was always a street rat,” a crumbled up piece of paper hits your head, thrown by your best friend, “Was just always out on the streets. Never remembered anything from before. Guess either I was abandoned by parents dying, or they just left me.”

Ballister pauses, looking at you with sympathy. Nimona’s eyes are casted down to the floor. Like noted before, your lives weren’t easy, even if you had each other. The chaos was always fun, when you guys controlled it. Rebellion was something you both loved, but you were always focused more on survival than rebellion; even though you tried.

“I’m so sorry.”

You give him a sad smile, “I have my moments where…” you drift off. Nimona’s eyes shoot right up to your figure. She knows where your thoughts are going.

“Your parents were either unlucky, or bad people,” she says, “if it’s the latter, then they lost out on someone awesome.”

“Thanks, Nim.”

“No, she’s right,” Ballister says in support, “you’re a sweet, kid. You’re loyal, and kind.”

“But I don’t know who I am.”

“Well, if it helps, I thought I liked girls when I was around your age,” you chuckle softly at that after he does.

“I don’t think I want that from anyone,” you admit. Nimona smiles, glad you feel safe enough to say it. It’s your own small rebellion; she can’t be prouder of you, even muttering out a small ‘hell yeah’ under her breath.

“That’s cool,” Ballister says; you scrunch your eyes brows up slightly, not expecting him to say that, “we want what we want from life. And…if I may ask, about the other thing?”

“…I – I don’t…I don’t think ‘he’ or ‘she’ fit me. I mean,” you look to Nimona in self consciousness, “I know that’s swapping one label for another, but —”

“Labels can help us find a home in ourselves,” she says, wisely. Ballister looks to her, seeing her gaze soft as she continues, “sometimes they change. But, as long as it’s your choice on it changing, then it’s all cool with me.”

You nod, but Nimona catches the slight guilt in your eyes. She hops off the boot, approaching you as Ballister finishes his work on the cut – having only resumed it after your addition, “I always said I’ll tell ya as many times as you need. And I don’t mind, really,” she says, putting an arm on your good shoulder, “you’re my little buddy. My best friend. You’re Y/N, and who that is may shift and change, but you’re still you at the core of that.”

Emboldened by your friends and the feeling of safety to be honest, you look to the man in the boot, “shall we?”

The two look to the man, who then speaks. Saying he’s happy for you all, but now really just wants to be let go.

“Oh, yeah,” your best friend says, cracking her knuckles.

You get the video evidence that’s you need. This is it, your boss – and maybe even friend at this point – can be free. Sure, it pisses you both off at his want to still believe in this system – this system that is built to hate people like you – but you still go with him. Nimona says she’s in it because everyone hate’s Ballister too; and yes, that is part of your reasoning too – you guys aren’t alone anymore. But…if you’re honest with yourself, it’s mainly the latter part to that. To find your crew, you go by your labels and accept you fully.

The plan goes well, and you all escape together this time. Ballister holding you as you fly away.

“Why didn’t we think of this the first time?” You shout over the wind.

“We’re not very smart!” Nimona says with a chuckle.

“You have your moments, though?” Ballister asks, cheekily.

You both laugh this time, “seems so!” You say in sync.

Back at Ballister’s, the events of everything, including another brawl - this time you were more successful - though Ballister was almost taken in but you guys won, and feeling of safety, allows you to sleep soundly for once. Nimona runs a hand through your hair, head in her lap. Ballister puts a blanket over her.

“Don’t wake them, Boss,” is all Nimona says, quietly.

Ballister chuckles quietly, “I won’t, don’t worry,” he assures, before going to his computer.

Nimona soon falls asleep herself.

When Ballister meets with Ambrosius, nothing on your past comes up. Ambrosius is question on it, and says, “I’m sorry, Bal. I really am. I think that (he/she) —“

“They,” he interjects.

“Ok, sorry, yes,” Ambrosius says, correcting himself, “I think they may of met Nimona and been taken down a path. But,” he reaches out and takes Ballister’s hands in his own, “you can stop this. You can save them. We can.”

When Ballister comes back, Nimona seemingly has a sixth sense about this. She wakes up, happy, but slightly on edge when she sees the look on his face. Carefully, she removes herself from you.

“What are you?” Ballister seethes.

“We aren’t doing this here,” Nimona says, moving to the back of the couch, as if a shield.

“Answer me.”

“You aren’t dragging them into this,” she says, a fiery protectiveness in her gaze, “do you know how much they’ve been –“

“How much as done because of you?” That stings, she won’t lie, “you drag them around with you into your schemes. They’re an innocent pers-“

“Exactly,” Nimona says, keeping her voice quiet, but letting the anger still roll through her words, “so, if you wanna blame someone, which you oh so apparently do, then blame me, ok?”

“What’s going on?” You say, slurred as you still adjust to the world. You blink a few times, before slowly sit up on the sofa. You turn to your friends, and both have angry looks on their faces, “what’s wrong?”

“Gloreth,” Ballister says, “the darkness she was fighting to keep out? It was her,” he says, ripping the bandaid off instantly.

You look to Nimona, eyes wide, but not filled with fear, just shock.

“Y/N…” Nimona says, seemingly only seeing what she wants to.

“Nim,” you say, taking her hands in your own, “it doesn’t matter,” despite the reassurances, her mind is already made up. Those voices that she’s kept at bay for herself, and help you fight – and you have returned the favour in both small and large ways – are back in full force. You can see it on your friend…on your sister’s face. It pains you to no end.

“Get away from her, Y/N,” Ballister advices.

“No,” you say, firmly.

“Y/N, please…” you hate how her voice cracks a bit, looking at you.

“Hey, what was it you always said? We’re all we’ve got. You and me, yeah?”

“Don’t you understand what she is. She’s a —”

“No,” you spit, looking to Ballister, who is a bit taken aback, “it doesn’t matter. It matters who she really is. She’s Nimona. Just like I’m Y/N, and you’re Ballister. You’re the ex-knight. I’m the street rat, and Nimona is the reason this broken system was made in the first place.”

“It’s not broken,” Ballister says, running a hand through his hair.

“It always has been!” You shout, he jumps, “don’t you get that? Someone framed you for power. That power is used to make people like me hate themselves. It turns people against each other. It tears people apart, and you still support it!”

“Because it keeps us safe from monsters who want to destroy it!” He can’t stop the words as they tumble out. But, as soon as he sees you both flinch, he wants to take it back.

Nimona runs first, and as you go to follow, you pause at Ballister’s door, “you know, I really thought you’d be different,” the words strike him just like Ambrosius’ sword did. Then, you’re gone.

He slams his hand onto the table, swiping objects away. One gets his attention, that old arm he’d made. The spare. The useful spare. The one that got him through a lot before this better one.

Sure, he knew the metaphor didn’t completely work, but you were curious being. You just wanted to find safety, and Nimona just wanted to find that as well. You were both just looking for love in a world that hid it from you because of who you were.

He remembered when he first came out, how it was rocky. You were both young (sure, Nimona was old in terms of this story of her, but she was a young girl in physical form) and your lives had been several levels below rocky.

You and Nimona were all you had. He…god he realises, he was part of that too. For a moment, they let someone else in. Let someone else be a lifeline.

The words he’d said…he could see on Nimona’s face when she looked at you that something had changed in your dynamic as soon as he said it. She looked at you like she was a poison, and there was no antidote. He always remembered your words, about how at the beginning you would…oh, oh he knows what you mean now by what you wanted to do.

That pain because you couldn’t be free; you couldn’t completely be you. Oh no. Oh god.

He finds his sword. The thing that started him on this path. A path that led him to you both. Two spirited, loyal people.

He then feels the ground shake. He looks to the tv. He knows who that is. He knows who is on one last run.

“Good Gloreth,” he says, before running out of the door, just hoping that he isn’t too late. That he can make this right. As right as he can, anyway.

As for you, you try all you can to get Nimona’s attention, and she only flies away. God, you hate it; you’ve never really been out to this part of the walled off city before. You don’t know where she would go. You go to the town. There’s an abandoned building you went to one time when at a low. Nimona saved you that day, flying up to you and sitting with you. It must’ve been hours, but she managed to get you down and home. Sure, that location changed. But Nimona was a constant. She was family. She was home. She was security; always there for a pep talk or defence. You were always there with a plan or a way out. She’d always follow them, executing them to a T. You just worked.

You affirmed each other. Any doubts you’d talk about. You’d clean swap clothes, steal some if they didn’t fit or felt wrong. Tag areas with different names, but the same style so everyone knew it’s was you.

You feel a rumble as you reach the top of the building. A dark, shadowy creature, makes its way into town. Stomping over things, but not hitting anything. The only time it does is when it’s shot, screeching out in pain as it falls down.

You know who it is. You recognise a part of the scream.

It’s Nimona.

You look down the building, a hell of a drop. You see more of the flying vehicles going for her. Quickly, you do some calculations. You take a few steps back. Don’t get yourself wrong, you’re not in the healthiest of mindsets right now. If you miss, it’s a big drop, and then…well, whatever comes next. But, you have to try this. You have to try and protect your family as best you can. So, counting down quickly, you run.

You jump.

You land right on one of the vehicles. The guard is too shocked to really do anything. So, you push him with all your might, and he falls, but catches himself. You just focus on the controls of this thing. Not that many. It’s simple, but effective. It works.

So, despite some near crashes, you sort of get the hang of this thing. You use it to shoot at the attackers hurting Nimona. Some fire back at at you, others dodge and keep going at this person they decided needs to be put down for the benefit of the people.

You try your most, even get lucky, but there’s a lot of carnage going on; all their own doing.

You see, however, what Nimona is making a bee line for. The sharp end of a sword that was pointed at her so long ago.

You race forward, not even noticing your previous guard friend managing to climb back up. He wrestles with you for the controls. Once again sending you pretty much into things. However, he then pulls the breaks, but catches you before you fall. He’s not looking at you now, he’s looking at Nimona, who is stood in front of the sword, white, beating heart out.

“NO!” You cry, sending the vehicle forward once again. You get to the sword, jumping off it. The guard tries to stop you, but just misses.

“Stop —“ he calls. But, a new voice stops him.

“They’re with me!” Ballister, “they’re with me.”

He looks at you; so many apologies and silent words being sent at you at once.

You nod, “later,” you say, before running to save your sister. He follows. You both hold her back. She looks down at you.

Ballister apologises to her as well. She looks to you.

“Please don’t,” is all you can say, “I need my sister. I need my sister,” you say, repeating it as your tears finally leak.

She changes back, and you both catch her. She looks a mess, beaten to high hell, but alive.

“I love you too,” she says to you as the three of you hug. You pull back, looking at her with elation -she’d always shown it, never said it; but you did always, sort of selfishly, wanted to hear her say it – and she chuckles tiredly and brings you into a hug of just the two of you, “I need my sibling in my life too. Besides, you rebelled completely against them,” she says, having seen you on the roof and your stunt, “guess I could do something a bit different, yeah?”

You chuckle, tightening the hug. It feels right. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Ballister joins, and it mostly feels complete.

A hug of a family. Of people who love and accept each other.

People soon start running again, and you all see a giant cannon aimed directly at you all. You all look at the citizens, knowing it will hurt them as well.

“No –“ you say, looking to Nimona, knowing what she is planning.

She smiles, however; her mind is mind up.

She kisses you on the forehead, “I love you,” she mumbles, before giving Ballister a wink, “take care of them for me, Boss.”

“Nimona,” Ballister says, trying to stop her. To try find another way.

However, “we know I’m fast enough to stop that thing,” she says, “and we’re wasting too much time. I get to punch someone with a punchable face, like really hard,” she then looks back to you, and sees you about to break again, “hey,” she says, cupping your face in her hands, “I’ll always be here,” she puts her hand on your chest, “you’ve got this. You’re gonna build a new, better, world.”

With that, she turns into a phoenix, and flies right into the cannon. The explosion rocks the wall, creating a massive gap in it. What does it show? It shows that the outside world is beautiful, that they had anything to fear. There is danger there, but also beauty. So much beauty.

Ballister and you go down to try and find Nimona, instead you only find red specs flying around.

You curl up into a ball, letting out sobs.

Ambrosius comforts Ballister, but saw how you were with the guardsman above. Granted in glimpses, but given your friendship with Nimona, your distrust of this system that he too is now questioning is understandable. So, he lets Ballister take his time before bringing you into a hug as you both cry for your fallen friend.

Some time passes, and you are all called heroes. You move in with Ballister, and your friendship rebuilds. He becomes this role model to you of perseverance and light. Softness and love. He becomes a sort of parental figure. He supports you when you stumble, and you do the same for him.

Ambrosius respects your boundries. He’s a nice person, even if you have your many issues with the system. He listens, like actually listens to them, and does what he can to set them right. He knows it will take time, but he knows you’ll appreciate the effort.

It’s slow going with him, but he is sweet. He’s kind. So, you are warming up to him. And he’s getting to know you. And, you do have to admit, him and Bal are sweet.

One day, when you’re in home alone, Bal and Ambrosius out on a date, you hear something. It’s like the wind, but that’s not possible as it’s a peaceful day. You then turn, seeing a glare of light. It gets brighter and brighter —

And then it stops. You lower your hand, and drop your bowl of popcorn. It doesn’t break, but the effect is there.

“Hey, champ,” you hear her say.

And you barrel right into Nimona’s awaiting arms. She chuckles, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground, “oh, look at you!” She says, turning your head with her hands, noting the subtle changes to your style and your looks, “you look so good!”

You chuckle, before going in for another hug. She hugs you back just as tightly.

She shuts her eyes, hoping to hold this moment in her mind forever; just as you are as well.

She pulls back, then looks to the TV, “what you watching, squirt?” She asks. You grab her hand, and pull her to it, hopping over it, which she mirrors on the other side, before now sharing the blanket with her and handing her the bowl and filling it up with more popcorn.

You hit play, and both watch the TV.

Bal comes back, and does a double take when he sees you both. It’s like a mirror version of the last time he saw you asleep on her lap, hand going through your hair again.

“Oh, hey, Boss,” she says, “just figured I’d pop in, say ‘hi’ and all that.”

Ballister can only laugh, tears of happiness forming in his eyes.

“Hi,” he says, holding his arms open.

“Hey,” she says, hugging him.

The family is complete.

Y/N and Nimona the siblings; and Balister and Ambrosius the parental/older siblings. The label isn’t exactly exact, but sometimes labels aren’t. They fluctuate.

But the love, just as the person, is still there. Still them. Still have all that love and hope inside of them.

Some people like labels, some don’t.

Either way, you all fit together. You all know what you are.

Family. And a family who aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

[typingfool]

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀 / 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐀 ;; wednesday addams

Pairing ;; Wednesday Addams x gn!winged!Reader

outline —; Confessing to Wednesday Addams is... something else.

word count —: 2.3k

WARNINGS —: cursing, SUGGESTIVE, LIKE VERY.

themes / tags —: reader is gender-neutral. divina is non-binary.

A/N: reblogs and comments are appreciated. there are some other fics i wanted to write for wednesday. have some gender-neutral divina and reader as dorm mates! and some wings too, may i add. enjoy :)

There is no number or word that can describe love. The only way to describe it is to feel it. To be in it. Similarly, love isn’t a never ending circle, going around and saying the same thing. For centuries, science has explained it too – the love for friends, the love for lovers, the love for parents, the love for certain objects. 

In history, the Greeks have words for love. Sitting in history lessons in one of the many rooms in Nevermore, your wings folded, your eyes staring directly at the board, as the teacher spoke. A school mate, similar to you with wings of down feathers, smiled in your direction, staring intently. 

Some didn’t seem to care about the knowledge they’re learning, some were confused (one of them being you, though, you were just ecstatic that all these people were learning that love isn’t just love). Some were guilty – you knew because you felt them, you felt that they never ‘love’ the way it is expected. 

“Ludus is the playful form of love. This may describe your type of romance; teasing, flirting, and teenage love.” The teacher explained, dragging her tone through the room, the class is quiet, accepting the new form of knowledge into their minds. 

The first period class really had you smiling. A swelled understandment filled your stomach as if it was thirsty for affection and attention. Who knew the Greeks could understand you? In ways more than one. Besides its occasional tales of myths and legends (that you personally indulge in, though too embarrassed to say anything about it), you were surprised that this knowledge is never passed down unto society. 

Only ‘friendship’ and ‘love’ were understood. If the normies altogether had a voice they would probably say; What else is there to it? 

The thought made you snicker. Hours passed; preoccupied students were busy shuffling the hallways, getting ready for the falling night. You watched through the infirmary window as the courtyard emptied out. “You bird!” The nurse called, looking at you with wide eyes. This did not surprise you but it did make you jump in your chair, your feathers in alert mode as you felt ants seeping through your skin. “I told you, this girl, here,” She pointed to Yoko, who snickered in response, hiding her laughter. “She is okay! No need to crowd this place! Look at your wings- Giant!” She reached her hand out, pinching a feather, making you hiss in staggerment. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m just worried about my friend.” You said, cowering out of the door, waving Yoko a goodbye before she could touch the ends of your feathers too. You huffed, wings fluttering in a shiver. The thumping of your own boots thundered in your ears, silencing any form of thoughts that raced through your mind. Silencing the outside world for a while, walking to your dorm subconsciously. 

For a moment, you ceased in a quiet hallway, contemplating whether to comfort Enid in her time of distress. Pending for a second that your wings enclosed in a relaxed position, folding itself. I don’t need to think about this situation, you mentally facepalmed. 

You headed to your dorm, waving a slight hello to Divina. They didn’t let you pass the window though, blocking your view of the outside world before you could fly out. Worry flooded their eyes as they frantically blurted out a word. “The nurse wouldn’t let me-”

You intercepted, putting a hand on their shoulder. “Let you see her? Me too but I’ve seen, Tanaka is fine, it’s just an allergic reaction.” You calmly stated, your wings subconsciously wrapping around them into a hug. They wrapped their arms around your shoulders too, unable to decide whether to hold your waist or back. “She’ll be out before you know it.” You pulled away, smiling. 

Divina nodded, stepping out of the window. “Tell me how your confession goes.” They teased, opening their closet and picking out a jacket. They headed to the bathroom. 

You opened the window, searching for Ophelia Hall in the many buildings until your eyes landed on the half-rainbow cobwebbed window. “Not yours to know,” You yelled in a responsive tone, hands on the railing, keeping your body balanced, poking your head out of the cold air. Making sure that no one is watching, you search left to right as if you were checking a road before crossing. “Nightshades again?” You asked, pushing your head in, grabbing a jacket of your own. 

Divina fixed their hair, responding with a nod. “At least look decent, who are you meeting? Enid or Addams?” They blindly asked. 

Disbelief left your mouth as a laugh. You loudly shut your closet, running up to the window, shutting it down as if anyone could hear from your own dorm. “Do you think Wednesday would care what I wear?” You emphasized clearly on her name, grabbing a hair brush. You rubbed the back of your neck before remembering the reason for your arrival at their dorm. “And anyway, I wanted to see Enid, she’s upset because of…” Your voice trailed, realizing that Divina is the person you’re talking to. You didn’t want to upset her any further, though luckily, she was busy adjusting her necklace to even listen to you. 

Divina smiled playfully. “Well, people say she’s allergic to color. But honestly, she’s pulling off the black and white outfits.” They replied, shrugging. The sneakers they wore dragged a rushed sound. Though it stopped when they turned on their heel to face you again. “Yet, here you are, putting no effort into your fits.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes, as you leaned into the mirror. “I’m pretty decent, if you ask me. Or Wednesday.” You happily affirmed. 

Divina shrugged in defeat, waving you off. “Just make sure to be there, Bianca hates you.” 

Shaking your head, you opened the window again, jumping up the railing, spreading your wings. “Tell her the feeling is mutual.” With that, you leaped out, snickering at the response ‘that’s jackshit, Xavier hates you too’, spreading your wings to bring yourself up to the window once more, satisfied that Divina took in the words you most definitely meant. You carefully pulled down the window, leaving a big enough gap for your hands to fit in. 

You flew higher, the cold air reaching your whole body. Jacket or not, the cold bothered you. Though, post-autumn has finally worn out. The start of cold winds were scaring you for the snow. And god, were you thankful that you didn’t have to shovel it all? Yes, of course, you were. 

Your feet landed on the cold ground, as wind slightly pushed you back. You flap your wings in the process, creating a whirlwind that nearly knocked out the musical note stand. Thankfully, you weren’t too far to not catch it and disrupt a loud bang. Cold seeped through your footwarmers, each step you took warmed up your body eventually. Since, you couldn’t fit through the window (credits to the wings you carried), instead, you knocked, poking your head in. 

“Enid!” You called on excitedly, only to find her bed empty, neatly arranged. Your head turned to her roommate’s bed. Next to it is a dissatisfied Wednesday, her hands briefly above the typewriter. “Where is she?” You asked, emphasizing your question even more as you raised a brow. 

Wednesday sighed, standing up from her chair. “Sulking and complaining to Ajax or Divina,” She explained, leading you out of the window by giving your forehead a gentle flick. You mouthed an ‘oh’ shape, knowing where that would lead to. Your mind wandered if Ajax could comfort Enid in such a way, because, knowing him — it would be an easy yet ineffective display, mostly because of his tiny, little serpents. 

The scent of Wednesday Addams attained your senses, though, the spinning of the glass window in front of you distracted it. You can see a new addition to the dorm; a giant detective board, with pictures of disgusting pieces of body parts, it almost made you drop and vomit. Almost, not until Wednesday inquired with a furrowed brow (you could tell); “Why is it your concern?” 

You turned, glancing to the back of her head. Walking up to her was easy, taking mental note not to stand too far nor too close, figuring that Wednesday didn’t like close and intimate proximities. “She was upset that Yoko got an allergic reaction again.” You answered truthfully. You saw her shake gently. A swift chance of courage shook your presence. “I also came here to talk to you actually.” 

Wednesday’s mouth dropped into a firm line, almost frowning. Her solemn face returned, however, when she looked at you. “Make it quick.” She commanded. 

You beamed, wings fluttering in excitement, and Wednesday knew it was going to be a long talk, or night, if you made your move. You propped yourself up at the balcony, sitting comfortably, your eyes straightforward. “Don’t you admire your parent’s love for each other?” 

Wednesday is right, she mentally prepared herself for her own upcoming answer, a tiny voice in her throat buried itself until she gave it full thought. “I do, why?” 

You bit your inner cheeks, nodding to your side, as you cleared your throat. “Their love is called Pragma; long standing love.” Shifting your sentences to something less obvious isn’t something you had me mind. “They might’ve had a friendship too, which is Philia.” 

Wednesday raised her brows, an inquiry isn’t something she’ll speak out in these conversations. But then again, she is an Addams, her opinions most likely matter because of the pressure that she instills on them. “Friendship? Before marriage, there’s… friendship?” She tried not to show the hesitant tone that concluded her sentence, a rushed tone dragged the tension. 

You shook your head in a ‘no’, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Not just before marriage, no. It’s something you have before any type of romance.” Without the knowledge of whose dropping these words but you, yourself, obliged you to speak more. Wednesday seemed confounded in your knowledge, conflict reached blood, as it ran cold. 

The thought of you having experienced a friendship that turned into… whatever her parents had, or, as you called it; Philia and Pragma. She had to admit, bearing that sight is a nightmare. 

Grabbing your wrists, Wednesday stood in front of you, holding your waist as you involuntarily yelped without the support of your hand on the cold marble. Her fingers dug into your side, into your jacket, as her eyes trailed in confusion. The girl in front of you blinked, a stricken flick of anger visible in her expressions. “Have you ever loved someone like that?” Wednesday inquired, glancing up at you, she held your gaze, before averting her own. 

The pacing of your heart quickened, lup-dup, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub, lup-dub. Without the huffed breaths, you would’ve fallen in peace. You were certain Wednesday couldn’t catch you, so you managed to stay alive. Taking a breath and moving closer, inch to inch with Wednesday Addams; nose nuzzled, minty breath of yours, mixed with the scent of… coffee? Something of the sort, you couldn’t tell due to your proximity. “You.” 

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t back away when you stepped in closer, she only closed the gap that accompanied the two of you. Catching your lips into hers, moving in sync with your own. Her other hand accompanied your lower back, rubbing it in circles. Your hands found freedom in her jaw, cold fingers against it, underlining the perfect structure. 

Wednesday pulled away, catching her breath, forehead against yours. She gave your lips another peck, which you reciprocated. Your eyes gently shut, recalling the last of what you could see was Wednesday’s half-shut eyes. A flooding warm of heat pulled your stomach down as she deepened the kiss. 

Ecstasy engulfed you and (hopefully) Wednesday. 

Forgetting that breathing existed is something you would’ve never forgotten, afterall, not after this. You needed air although worry didn’t cross your mind, not once, when this is happening. Nothing could be processed actually. The only thoughts that occupy your mind is Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday. 

You pulled away, chest heaving up and down for breaths, a still laugh erupting from your throat. “Who taught you how to kiss like that?” You asked, cockiness reached your lips, quirking upwards into a smile. You were pulled up with a jerk of her shoulders, diminishing the cruelty that settled on your lips, which were puffy and pink now. 

Wednesday settled in a firm hug, burying her face into your jacket. A quiet sniffle of laughter carefully rolled out of your tongue. She wrinkled her nose, bringing her chin to your shoulders. She responded, bringing her head up. “My parents, they always kiss in front me and my brother.” 

You nodded in understanding, a hum vibrating your chest in response. You closed your eyes in the warmth of her body near you, feeling a tug of your jacket with her fingers. The exposure of your warm, clothed skin to the wind did not make you please. Not until Wednesday’s mouth found closure in your skin, her warm tongue and soft lips sucking on it carefully. 

This made your eyes open in shock, a kept groan couldn’t contain itself, leaving your mouth with no permission. “Addams,” You meekly called, averting your eyes to the side, though, your head jerked up; giving her more skin to attack. “Someone- someone will notice.” You warned, fingers circling her back as an attempt to call after her. 

Wednesday obliged. Though, she smirked at it, noticing the bruise, pulling your jacket back to its place in your neck. A glimpse of visible purple marks accompanied it. An audible groan left your mouth, hiding your face to the side, as your wings wrapped the two of you. “What?” She asked, closely inspecting the wrapped wings that shook slightly. “Be thankful it’s not your lips, it would’ve been far worse.” She concluded. 

Goosebumps overtook your body. Jumping down from your spot, cautious as to not step on Wednesday. You hugged her closely. “What are we now?” 

Wednesday raised a brow, you were sure a tender smile attended her features. “Pragma and Philia, as you said.” 

♡ PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG TO SUPPORT ME.

[tbb-appreciation-week]

The Bad Batch Appreciation Week 2024 is HERE!!!

The time for appreciating Clone Force 99 has arrived! Y'know, like the cavalry 😅 Don't mind my bad pun!

What I was saying? Oh, yeah! The prompts have been revealed HERE, so we must refresh the rules. They're the same as last year, but it doesn't hurt to review them again, right? So:

Event Info & Rules

TBB APPRECIATION WEEK is a week-long, prompt-based creation challenge to celebrate our love for the Batchers and the show. There are 7 groups of prompts—one for each day of the week—, which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to be an inspiration without being taken literally (i.e., you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts in your work). Feel free to interpret them at your convenience. For example, if the prompt is “anooba”, you can create either something about the animal, use it as a name/mascot of a sports team in your modern-day AU, or as an analogy for someone with a voracious appetite. It’s up to you.

Each group contains a Theme (which is in and on itself a prompt), an AU/Trope, Dialogue, an extra character, NSFW, and a color palette). You can use them in combination or just pick one. The idea is to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible. The participants can create works in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, art, edits, gifs, videos, playlists, cosplays, etc. The only restriction is that it needs to be focused on The Bad Batch (can be on a particular Batcher alone).

Also, people can participate as little or as much as they want, meaning that they don’t have to do ALL the days if they can't/don’t want to.

Collaborations are welcome and even encouraged. For example, if an artist and a writer want to work together, or a writer and a podficcer, or two writers, go for it!

When uploading TBB Appreciation Week content to your Tumblr blog, be sure to mention this blog and add the following hashtags:

#tbbaw2024

#the theme of the day and/or #prompt(s) used

#medium (gifset, fic, podcast, fanart, etc.)

#trigger warnings, if applies. (Please do NOT to add “tw” in front or at the end but only use the word/trigger itself, because the way Tumblr tag blocker feature works, it makes it harder for people to block the right tag.) (List of trigger warnings)

#nsfw (only for NSFW content)

#any other relevant tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING (both by mentioning the blog and putting the necessary tags). That'll ensure that your post will be reblogged on this blog.

I'll do my best to reblogged everyone's posts, but if it passes 2–3 days and I haven't posted yours, please let me know.

If you are posting NSFW fics or art on Tumblr, I ask that you use the Keep Reading break to hide the NSFW portion of your work; and please, give the proper warnings. On Ao3, please, use the correct rating and warnings as well.

If you want, you can also add your work to the Ao3 Collection (closed at the moment, but I'll open it in due time). (Use the tags TBB Appreciation Week 2024 and/or TBBAW 2024 when posting.)

There won't be censorship in this event, so everyone is free to create whatever they want. Participants are expected to hold judgment to themselves of others and their works, even if they don't agree with or find it repulsive. That means that harassment of anyone or anything that they post (even if said work is something you personally find morally reprehensible) WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Anyone that breaks this rule will be banned from the event. Curate your own experience by blocking what upsets/squicks/triggers you, and leave everyone else alone. That's the importance of the correct tagging, as it says above.

Important!! Show support to other participants by liking, reblogging, AND commenting. If an author or artist has asked for constructive criticism (not the same as a comment, and with constructive being the keyword) you may give it. However, refrain to give any of the unsolicited kind, as it can be discouraging for the author or artist.

But most of all, HAVE FUN!!! This is meant to be a lay-back event to show love for our favorite characters.

I'm looking forward to seeing what you all come up with!

If you have questions, you can check out the F.A.Q post. But if you don't find there the answer you're looking for, send me a message to the ask box or a DM, either in this blog or my fandom blog @nimata-beroya.

Thanks for reading, and happy creating!

Mare 💜

[writing-for-life]

Keeping Them In Character...

It’s so interesting what you wrote about fixing Morpheus in the other post, @rriavian. I didn't want to take that one too off topic, hence I made a new one. I hope this is okay, because I love talking about these things, especially with other writers (everyone who reads this, writer or not, feel free to join in). I think I’ve said this somewhere else before (can’t remember where): If we keep him in character, there is no fixing him anyway.

But fanfic wouldn’t be fanfic without those attempts, and I totally get why. I want a different ending for him, too, alas, not in canon, even if that might sound contradictory. If they touched the ending in the show, I’d honestly be pissed off, but that’s my personal problem, and Neil can do with it whatever he wants—it’s his story. So I guess every fic that sees him alive at the end starts with the premise that we have to bend him into shape ever so slightly to make it possible. To me though, there’s a world of a difference between that and basically turning him into an OC with no resemblance to Morpheus bar name and looks (not saying that isn’t fair, it’s just not for me because if I wanted that, I’d write an OC, because that’s what he would be to me).

Morpheus is not weak. I even get why some people who mainly came to the Sandman via the show might be drawn into that direction initially, because we obviously see him very low at the beginning (I’m hesitant to say “at his lowest”). But after that, he pretty much stands in his power again (with ups and down obvs)—a power that burdens him for a multitude of reasons I don’t want to go into now, otherwise I’ll still sit here tomorrow. Wrote about it a million times though.

I think the fundamental misunderstanding is that anyone can fix him. So whoever we pair up with him can only walk with him, but he’ll need to take the steps himself, and more importantly: He would need a reason to want to do that. And yes, that’s exactly what my OC tells him at some point because she suffers, and she’s done with it despite understanding him on a deep level and accepting who and what he is—I think you're right when you say there’s a tendency in fandom to turn one half of the relationship into some kind of martyr and/or “void filler” to save someone. And the tricky thing about Morpheus is: He actually is looking for something to fill a void (which, to stress that again, doesn't mean he isn't powerful, so it's not to be mistaken for general weakness). And both in The Sandman and in real life, that never leads to anything good, but I can see why it's tempting to fall into that trap because his character lends itself particularly well to that type of trope (and I even play around with that in the first part of my fic, but it was also clear to me that it won't end there).

Now, this obviously isn’t real life, a story doesn’t necessarily have to lead to something good, but the most important question, to me, was always: What would make him take said steps himself, and above all: WANT to take them? Because truly, that’s where it all falls down in canon. And there is enough scope to explore that in quite a few different ways in my view.

For me, it was always clear that it can never be through wanting to change who or what he is on a fundamental level (that’s why I’m not into retired!Dream AUs, because they would fundamentally change who he is. Again, totally fine if people want to explore that, it's just not for me). I honestly believe he would bristle at that and recoil/retreat. Because it would just add to what is at the core of his very dilemma: If you want to change who and what he is, you basically admit you don’t truly understand him (not even those closest to him truly do), and that’s part of what breaks him (I say “part”, because there are more things in the mix than one can shake a stick at). And there is a clear difference between his being capable of change (we all know he is) and wanting to change him. They are not one and the same, but sometimes, fandom treats them as if they were.

Misunderstanding him, misinterpreting him is inherent to his being: He is Dream—forever out of reach, forever nebulous and unreal and weird and prone to be misunderstood/misinterpreted unless you stop trying and just trust the process/intuition--otherwise, it wouldn’t be (a) D/dream. It truly applies to all that he is. And you see what happens when he tries to rationalise things himself: Although he understands the boundaries between dreams and reality and keeps them in place, he is UNreality, and forever will be. And the way that gets ignored in fandom sometimes baffles me. Although it also doesn’t, because of course we’re human, and we want things to be real.

Back to those steps: I personally think he would never take them for himself because he doesn’t believe he has a story, and outright centring himself as the main character who is in charge of his own story is something he will always deny himself. But I think that’s also the way in? Because if he could perceive, at least initially, that he is part of someone else’s story and that they WANT him in that story (all that he is and isn’t, including all that is broken) with full acceptance but without complete self-denial. That they don’t try to change him, because they understand what the unreal is (and that requires a very particular type of person). That he would want to try because the love he has for them weighs heavier than how little he loves himself (was it you, @stellerssong who recently also wrote something along those lines, or am I making that up?). And that by doing that, he gradually learns to see himself through someone else's eyes. And once on that path, he would maybe, just maybe, start to understand that indeed he has a story of his own, and that he might be able if not to entirely rewrite, but at least to keep on writing it from this moment onward. Like everyone who believes (because believing something is possible means trusting in it despite it not being real, and trusting in the process rather than the result. He knows the power this wields over everyone but himself--not because it’s not true for him but because he won’t allow it. But maybe he could get himself to a stage where he allows it). That it's not about fixing anything really, but growing enough around what's broken and always will be, instead of trying to make it smaller or go away.

Yes, I do believe that might be possible, although there's much more to it than I've written here because it's incredibly complex, and it requires a lot of give and take, compromise and yes, pain along the way. And maybe it might not work at all (I never really 100% know where I end up when I write because my characters always, always make those decisions for me, and despite setting out with a plan, I almost never end up where I had initially intended to go. So if you asked me today, I couldn’t promise that I truly know where my current WiP is going and who will be where at its end, and it is very frustrating at times because I’m not always happy with what these guys are doing. At the moment, I'm truly not). But I believe he would at least try if someone who allowed for those dynamics were around. And that’s why I wrote an OC, because while I can see one or two canon characters that get fairly close to what I'd envision (and none of them are one half of the bigger ships), I ultimately couldn’t do it with them because there was something in their established dynamics that threw it off for me. Unless I would have pulled at least one of them (probably both) OOC to a degree that felt too much for me. But I'm always super interested in other people's process and line of thinking.

But yeah, that’s the precarious dance between trying to keep him in character while also working towards a different ending (that's obviously far less of a problem in one-shots). If that will ever work—who knows…

[grapefruit-personified]

I know this is an unpopular opinion but I have to be honest I see people already trying to bully korbin online and I have to be honest cyberbullying and our own hateful comments gets us nowhere and it needs to stop. The perk about social media is you can block people or simply not follow them or even filter posts but going out of our way to start being asses is so unnecessary. The girl is 20 we have no idea what all she herself has been through or why she has these views but going on her socials just to to start the bullying is so unnecessary let her teammates and coaches handle it. On top of that if her teammates can keep it professional and she can keep it professional then why do we always have to add to the dumpster fire? Why can’t we just watch the fire burn by itself?

To be clear I knew when she signed to PSG she would be this type of person so I just didn’t follow nor do i comment on her posts or anything of the sort which isn’t hard to do. I don’t even like her her picture and biblical post already were red flags for me i could care less if she likes someone like me or not. Does it suck that she reposts or retweets that stuff? Absolutely but at least she’s showing who she is and not hiding it which I would rather she do than pretend like she’s okay with me. I have known people like her personally and overtime these things handle themselves.

If there is such a problem with her rather than doing cyberbullying and/or spreading more hate on her socials how about we write the coaches and so on. It’s literally the best way to remove her. Most of us will never interact with her in person so what is the point of us becoming hateful and starting up this hate filled speech with someone else that’s hateful does it really get us anywhere? Believe me when I say I didn’t want her at PSG or the USWNT and I want her and her beliefs gone but me being a keyboard warrior with everyone else does nothing but mentally hurt someone else and with everything our generations have been through and interviews I have heard from players I might hate her but I don’t hate her enough to break her and then hear about her kicking the can on the news.

Like i said it’ll probably be an unpopular opinion and I’m sure individuals will say she deserves everything coming her way tenfold but I don’t want to be associated to anything having to do with woso or lgbt if it gets to a point where there’s serious harassment and bullying happening that causes her or some other athletes to break or 🪦.

*** TRIGGER WARNING FOR TALKS OF SELF HARM*****

I agree that bullying her does nothing but stoop to her level. However, using the fact that she is younger as an excuse for her behavior is also something I won't let pass. She has been sharing this stuff up until very recently, she knows what she is sharing, and she knows who she is harming. Being 20 does not excuse bigotry. We don't know the environment she makes within a team and we don't know if her teammates are actually just dandy with playing with her but have to due to this thing called a contact.

You might be ok with her being like this, but many aren't. You mention how you don't want to basically add on to the risk of her hurting herself, but what about the kids and others she is affected by the words she is spewing. At the end of the day she does represent the team many have found safety in and while we all know other players share the same views they have all seemingly been very accepting of queer individuals, having a player so outwardly hostile towards the majority of the fan base is a different level. I don't agree with bullying her to cause her harm but she should face public backlash for shitty opinions.

Mental health is a major issue in athletics, but her opinions that do nothing but harm others and cause others to end their own lives don't get brushed under the rug because people worry she will hurt herself. AGAIN I state forcing someone to stand behind their statements and opinions and forcing someone to see the harm they are doing is not harassment or bullying it is her simply having to live up to the shit she says.

[skzoologist]

I just woke up, Hello

My vision is failing me ngl, for some reason whenever I wake up my vision gets so goddamn blurry, I can't read

The ghost fic made me cry, so beautiful

The ghost anon is so sweet wth

OH and since you erased the 1 request for 1 person thing, I would like to request

"No! I want cuddles now!" 🧋☕ focused more on Bae, 3Racha

Go ham with it

P.S I saw that -6°C was nearly freezing? Is where you guys live that warm? Cuz here the lowest is like -33°C and highest is like -9°C so far

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: none

genre: fluff, crack

a/n: Hey-ho 🐿️ anonnie! I hope your vision got better soon afterwards, it sounds worrying 😨 And I'm sorry my ghost!Bae fic made you cry, I hope this one will cheer you back up! Made it extra fluffy, for you. I accidentally went ham with it, I did not mean to write this much lol 💀 Also where I live it's I guess relatively warm? It's kinda rare for it to snow here properly (and not just have sludge and ice all over the place), which is why I'm so happy it snowed a few days ago, even if only a few centimeters. Your place is waaaaay colder, so stay bundled up and cosy! 😊

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

The powerful beats of their latest title track flowed through his body, his heart beating to that same, exhilarating rhythm. He knew the song from the top of his head already, having danced to it countless times, and yet, once the inevitable silence crept in, he restarted the cycle all over again, no matter how much his clothes and hair clinged to his sweaty skin.

Then suddenly the music cut off midway, a frustrated sigh left in its place amidst the dancer’s confusion.

“Bae, how many times have we talked about this? You’ve already perfected the choreography, you NEED to rest now.” - it was Minho, a disapproving scowl sitting on his sharp features.

Bae simply watched his hyung, heaving for air, wondering how the man got there in the first place. A quick glance at the now open door gave him all the answers he needed, knowing fully well that he was probably too absorbed in his own practice to even hear the sound of the door opening. Wouldn’t have been the first time, after all.

“I’m talking to a wall, I swear to god. Bae. If I see you in this room one. More. Time. I’m chucking you into the air fryer next to Hyunjin. Don’t look at me like that. Now go.” - the angry cat ushered him out, gathering all of the otter’s belongings and shoving them into his arms.

Bae obediently let himself be pushed out of the door, a click immediately resounding in the air.

He was locked out, that much was obvious.

Of course he knew not to push Minho’s buttons anymore, a miracle in itself that he was let off only with a simple warning. He’d already experienced the man’s wrath once before and it was not fun at all. Just the mere thought brought a shiver up his spine, never wanting to experience that ever again. Even if it was all for his own good, he would rather avoid a repeat of what’d happened.

Sighing, Bae trudged towards the locker room, the thought of a quick shower and fresh clothes soothing his mind.

Although that calmness disappeared the moment he checked his phone afterwards, the device filled with messages from Chan. There wasn’t a lot, not nearly enough to make him think something terrible had happened, but their contents were unusual, requesting him to drop by the studio. It had happened before, sure, but not often enough for it to be considered normal. The three idols preferred to work alone, their synergy so perfect, anyone else’s presence was a mere bother.

Confused, but not having anything else to do, Bae messaged his leader back and started his ascent to the seeked-after room. It took a bit of time; the hallways were packed, and so was the elevator, the rush hour inside the company hitting the idol full force. He politely bowed his head in greeting towards staff and other idols, some looking at him with a smile, some too busy and instead looking like they were about to collapse right then and there. It caused a worried crease to form in his forehead, but there was nothing he could do, sadly.

Having made his way to where he was needed, Bae let himself into the room, only after a soft knock and a quiet ‘Come in’ could be heard.

There sat Chan, Changbin and Jisung, all in comfy hoodies, bundled up and hunched over the table, way too entranced to even look away from the monitors fully. 

Only after Bae closed the door and plopped onto the couch did Chan shake himself out of this trance, headphones now fully slid off and hanging around his neck. A lopsided smile sat upon his face as their eyes met, only widening at Bae’s expression.

The other two joined the oldest soon, all eyes set on Bae and teasing smiles dancing on their lips. Bae didn’t know what warranted these expressions, simply confusedly tilting his head and causing soft giggling to be heard.

“So, I heard Minho kicked you out of the practice room.” - Chan gently whispered out amidst giggles, dimples fully on display. “Oh, so that’s why he looks like that!” “Jisung! Hey, it’s okay baby, don’t look so sad.” - Changbin said, his arms already guiding Bae’s head towards his chest in a soothing hug.

It was true that their tallest member was not happy about being kicked out, but the others’ reactions puzzled him greatly. He wasn’t devastated or anything, so what were they talking about?

Loud laughter grabbed his attention, the poorly breathing wolf soon joined by a quokka and a dwaekki. This only confused him more, a huff escaping his mouth as he crossed his arm, now free from Changbin’s hold, as the latter was too busy almost falling off the couch.

“I love it so much when you don’t realise you’re doing the puppy eyes. Hyung, you look like a kicked puppy!” - Jisung explained, making Bae’s eyes widen and cheeks dust over with pink. “Mh, our baby otter is so cute.” - Chan added in, watching in satisfaction as his victim’s skin only reddened. “YAH, you’re too cute, this is unfair!” - Changbin all but shouted, locking Bae into a tight hug and squeezing the air out of him.

Bae tried to wiggle out of the dwaekki’s arms, but the hold on him was way too strong for that. After realising this, he gave up, turning limp in the happily celebrating man’s clasp, essentially becoming his cuddle pillow. 

Seeing this all, the two left out members started protesting, wanting their fair share of their shy member and his cuddles. Bae didn’t hesitate to take the chance when Changbin’s arms loosened around him amidst his own protests about wanting to keep the man for himself, quickly slipping out and away from all of them. This naturally gathered all their attention; their eyes watching him fiercely, as if he was their prey, ready to be hunted.

“Is this why you called me here?” - he sternly asked, a furrow in his brows and a slight scowl in his lips that wasn’t there out of true anger. “Yes and naur. Minho asked me to essentially lock you into the studio with us, so you cannot secretly overwork yourself. And hey, who am I to say no to some cuddles?” - Chan answered, that teasing smirk dancing on his lips that told Bae he was not joking around.

Before the cornered otter could dash towards the door, Jisung pounced on him, keeping him in place just long enough for the other two to drag him back onto the couch. A soft ‘Oomph’ sound left his lips as he collided with the bouncy material, unable to fight against the entire force of Gymracha alone.

He had to accept his fate, one that was filled with stiffening cuddles and teasing for an unforeseen amount of time.

A deep sigh left his lips as he’d done exactly that, relaxing in Chan’s hold as Jisung was hugging his legs and Changbin was playing with his fingers, arm tightly hugged into his chest. The couch was impossibly small to house all four of them, yet somehow they managed, all crammed into the tiny space. 

The three seemed content to just stay like that, and seeing as Bae literally had no choice, he let them be, their warmth seeping into his clothes and skin, settling there in contentment. His muscles relaxed in a way he didn’t even know they needed to, a tension he’d never noticed leaving his body. The position he was trapped in felt safe, as if he had nothing to worry about in the entire world.

Maybe Minho was right, maybe he did need to rest for a bit, just a little bit.

But after an hour of it all, he was starting to overheat, the contact on his skin now too much, too warm.

“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” - he asked, hoping the answer would be yes, since all of them were workaholics to a certain degree. “No, I want cuddles now!” - Jisung shouted before anyone else could, flopping onto Bae’s front and burying his head into his clothed stomach.

Chan and Changbin only laughed at his misery, their answers probably similar to their younger members. Bae could only sigh for the umpteenth time, head gently plopping back against Chan’s shoulder.

“At least let me get my hoodie off.” “No.”

The afternoon seemed way too long in Bae’s eyes already, a fact that was only strengthened as time went on, even though there was an undeniable, gentle warmth that danced around in his eyes whenever he looked at the ones around him.