#but i want to yap and be yapped at in return. yap at me. clown to clown communication

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: chrollo vs hisoka round 2

ok i need to yap about something

dude hisoka is so fucking smart it actually pisses me off.

now i do like the idea of hisoka. he is a great antihero/villain and has had so much thought put behind his psyche that i put him under the microscope and still dont understand him.

but i came here to talk about the mind games he pulled on chrollo after the heavens arena fight. (shout out to @helenisaweirdo for putting chrollo thoughts in my brain)

so we all yell at chrollo for leaving his crew basically defenseless on the ship while he goes and tries to steal an ugly pot. yes its stupid that he's leaving these very vulnerable members by themselves with a killer clown on the loose. yes its stupid that EVEN AFTER deducing that hisoka is already on tier 1 to leave bonolenov on the upper tier alone. and yes its stupid that way way way back before even getting on the ship he left shal and kortopi alone.

but i raise you the idea

what if chrollo never heard hisoka's declaration.

hisoka told machi that he will kill all of the other spiders on sight. and he never said to chrollo's face that his new goal was to wipe out the troupe.

based on those two very careful choices, hisoka has effectively created an out for himself, because chrollo doesn't know that his troupe is the main target.

and this is coming after some major mind fuckery where chrollo perfectly predicted hisoka beat for beat in the heat of combat and STILL somehow lost.

so EVEN IF machi told chrollo what hisoka told her (i dont think she did, we'll get to that later), he would assume that hisoka's main target is still chrollo and that chrollo just has to get to him first.

[explanation below]

this yap gonna be long. im rolling up my sleeves

ok so let's set the scene. chrollo has just beaten the ever loving shit out of the murder clown, blown off two of his limbs and half of his face. he probably stayed long enough to see the corpse, hear the diagnosis and then he dipped

chrollo outside of missions travels alone. during hisoka's explanation of chrollo back in yorknew we hear "when on the battlefield he'll travel with two or more spiders at a time" (loose paraphrasing) "but after every job, he'll disappear." the heavens arena fight wasn't a job. it was just some petty beef. a loose end chrollo had to tie up before moving on to his next big move (black whale 1). so after the fight, he was supposed to "disappear"

so here comes the speculation: we don't know if its actually possible for users to reclaim powers from skill hunter. chrollo was going to return shal's phone but that's all we hear about 'returning' something. shal even says that he won't need the antenna anymore.

that being said. there was no reason for anyone to want to attack shalnark or kortopi. their faces were wiped from the mafia databases and most, if not all, eye witnesses to any of the troupe's crimes have been killed. there is NO ONE that should be targetting shalnark and kortopi at this point in time. (except kurapika but i think chrollo took preventative measures)

and we know based on the hunter exam, people without nen can be extremely skilled in combat. we can reasonably assume that shalnark is one of them (kortopi is kind of an ehhh?? bcs we have seen zero feats from him that didn't involve his hatsu). so they can handle themselves in terms of mortal combat with normal people.

and here comes an observation that i think gets constantly overlooked (i do it too) in favor of viewing the troupe as a "found family". nobunaga himself said it: they operate exactly like the hei-ly. that means they will usually operate solo within their own set of skills. chrollo gives them a task on a job and they decide individually how they want to handle it.

and up to now, they've never failed. so there is this powerful 12-17 year build up of trust in each other's abilities.

so even though i am mad about chrollo leaving his members alone, i also can't be mad because THERE is my hidden phound family moment.

ok going back to the point

hisoka comes back to life and machi is the only one to witness it. we assume that no one else saw hisoka return from the dead (or at least not anyone significant) since he was listed in the official casualties. he imprisons her and tells her to send a message that she refuses to relay.

he could have killed her. but he doesn't. and i think there is a very good reason

he kills shalnark and kortopi and makes sure that they are easy to find. and of course chrollo finds out. we don't know the details of how it happened but i bet it's something along the lines of "chrollo tries to call shal and he doesn't pick up dun dun dunnn"

now here's where it can go two ways.

machi can either tell chrollo hisoka's threat

or she could keep it to herself.

the story works either way, but it works better if she stays quiet. now why would she stay quiet? because she doesn't want to do anything hisoka says and/or is protecting her dignity. regardless there is a very real chance she just said "hisoka lived" and that was enough to get the message across.

at this point chrollo has only so much evidence to go off of: hisoka killed shalnark and kortopi, but he spared machi.

logically, this is because shalnark and kortopi were a) vulnerable and b) part of chrollo's plan that is THE ONLY thing that has made hisoka struggle in his journey so far. in chrollo's mind, hisoka is seeking ways to strip chrollo of his power to weaken him in their due rematch. he spared machi because he was making a point.

therefore. hisoka will only target chrollo's troupe if chrollo attempts to use them for his own personal gain.

of course we, the readers, know this isn't true. hisoka is going to on sight any troupe member.

but, chrollo thinks that this is a much more focused threat.

he thought he knew how hisoka worked. when he was betrayed in yorknew he learned that hisoka never wanted to be part of the troupe and was only using the position as a way to get close to chrollo. he learned about hisoka's powers through studying heavens arena fights and most likely spent a lot of time listening to hisoka's reports on the troupe and the exorcist during greed island.

so, reasonably, he HAS to know hisoka's pre-death mantra: hisoka wants to find ideal fight partners to "love to death." he'll ignore everyone and anyone else until he gets who he wants. so when he dodges death, chrollo realizes that he is such a horn dog for battle that he will literally use every technique in the nen book to win.

ive heard the argument that chrollo put the idea of post mortem nen into hisoka's head which caused him to create the resuscitation move. but i dont think that's true because hisoka has never been pushed to the brink of death like this. he's of course aware of post-mortem nen because we see him get tight when chrollo talks about sun and moon, so this was always going to be his endgame if the situation ever called for it.

minor point

ANYWAY.

MY ENTIRE POINT IS

hisoka has successfully convinced chrollo that chrollo is his primary target.

which is probably why he had the troupe split up in the first place. on jobs he would usually travel with 2 or more troupe members, as stated above, but this time he WILLINGLY goes alone. shizuku and bonolenov followed him of their own free will.

he probably sent them off SO HE CAN DIE ALONE.

SOMEONE GET THIS BOY A HUG AND SOME HEAD PATS S T A T.

fr tho he probably sent them off because he doesn't want them becoming collateral in a brawl with hisoka where he assumes hisoka will predict that he stole their abilities.

chrollo is so bent on this idea that he is changing the entire flow of the troupe, putting both himself and the rest of the troupe at an even greater risk. he would be much safer being with two other troupe members like he would usually do things. BUT NOOOOOOO he is changing his entire flow to throw hisoka off the scent and buy himself time.

like it is crazy. i dont know how much sense this makes but i am. losing my fucking mind.

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Blur The Lines

Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Chapter 1 - Break-In

Work Summary: Y/n is a struggling artist living in Gotham and stuck in an office job that she absolutely hates. Her dull life gets a spark of excitement when the Joker breaks into her apartment. Over time his stay becomes more voluntary and Y/n develops a connection with the clown. In exchange for a place of safety, Joker agrees to give her some tips that will help boost her art career. But eventually, Y/n realizes she may be getting into more than she signed up for.

Chapter Summary: It's a typical boring day at the office for Y/n. She returns home once again to the frustrations of her failing dreams. As she tries to distract herself and make something of yet another unfinished drawing, a certain someone decides to break into her apartment.

Author's Note: So I'm starting a new fic! I'm really excited for this one. I've been thinking of doing a reader insert fic for several months now. My goal here is to write a more in-character or darker Joker than I usually do and a more developed MC instead of just another Mary Sue. She is heavily inspired by me as I'm kinda writing with myself in mind but anyone can read it and place themselves in the story. Idk if there will be any smut or implied smut in here. I'm still not entirely comfortable with writing that yet. So if there is any here's your warning. I'm done yapping now, enjoy the first chapter!

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit @lightsabergirl @gothic-aesthetic-gal

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

Next Chapter >

A cool autumn breeze ruffled your hair as you left the office building with a defeated sigh. You began the monotonous trek back home, holding a thick stack of paperwork and other work related crap. Your boss just threw it on you at the last second. The joke was him, you weren’t actually gonna do it.

Nope. He needed to realize you had a life outside of work. A simple one, but still a life. You only carried the stack out with you for appearances. Honestly you could care less if you were fired. It was only a matter of time before you quit anyway. This was not the life you wanted. 

Every day it was the same thing. Wake up early, go to work in an office all day, waste hours of your time, go back home to a shitty apartment, yearn for a better life, go to bed, and repeat the next day. Much to your relief you were off on the weekends. You treasured those days and used them to destress and help yourself feel alive again. It was hard to believe how draining something as simple as an office job could be. 

You often found yourself reminiscing on the old days when you were a little girl growing up in your small town. You lived in a modest house on a lively farm. Your father raised cows and chickens and grew numerous crops. Your mother was a local school teacher. They were loving parents for the most part. They had their evident flaws but what parents didn’t?

You did well in school and you rarely got into trouble. They were difficult to make, but you had a few friends. You adopted many stray cats and took care of them. Your dad let you keep so many because they were good for keeping mice out of the barn. 

Life was plain and honestly quite boring. As a young girl you had big dreams. You longed to move away and start a new life somewhere else. Home would always be home but it would never satisfy you. 

Your escape from it all was art. You had been drawing since you were old enough to pick up a crayon. As you grew older, art became more than just a hobby. When you picked up a pencil or a paintbrush, you felt free. Putting your deepest thoughts and opinions to page was so liberating, especially when a lot of times you couldn’t outwardly express those things. 

Your high school art teacher said you could go places, and you believed him. An art career was something you always wanted. With his encouragement and a few others, you decided to go for it. So after graduating, you spent a few years figuring things out. As a backup plan you went to a community college for a 2 year degree and successfully obtained it. Then with enough money saved up, you moved to Gotham City when you were 21 in hopes of becoming a full time artist.

Your parents thought you were stupid. Your friends laughed at you. They all told you over and over it wouldn’t work out. Maybe they were right. You found out pretty quickly that Gotham’s art scene was super competitive. It was nearly impossible for a nobody from the middle of nowhere like you to get noticed. But you wouldn’t give up. Not yet.

Obviously you needed money to survive and fund your projects. Supplies weren’t always cheap. Hell, it cost money for you to even enter certain art galleries and contests. You also knew that your art career of course wouldn’t take off right away, so you were forced to look for work. 

That’s when you stumbled across an office job in the Downtown area. It paid just enough for you to afford rent and groceries, along with a little extra to set aside for art related things. You mostly answered calls, filled out paperwork, and scheduled things for your boss. You were a receptionist or secretary of some sort. You hoped that you wouldn’t be doing this for very long and your art would gain some traction by now, but no such luck.

You came to Gotham 2 years ago and still nothing changed. You were still stuck in your cramped apartment and dead end job. It was hopeless, but something in you was driving you to keep trying, to prove everyone back home wrong. 

Rounding the last corner, your apartment building came into view. You sighed as you pushed the double doors open and entered the lobby. You passed the front desk where your landlord was reading the paper and waved to him wearily. “Hey, Jimmy.”

“Hey, Y/n. Long day?”

“Yep.”

You dug your keys out of your pocket and unlocked your mail slot after scanning the rows. Nothing but junk mail. You threw it away in a nearby trash can and started towards the stairs with a tired sigh. It wasn’t too long of a walk, but trudging up four flights of stairs everyday was not something you looked forward to. 

Soon you reached the fourth floor and walked down the hall until you reached apartment 405, your humble abode. You unlocked the door and entered with an exhale of relief, discarding the heavy stack of paperwork on the kitchen table. You wouldn’t think anything of it for the rest of the night and it would sit there until the next morning when you had to go back to work.

Flipping on the lights, you moved into your bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. You picked out your usual sweatshirt and shorts combo and threw it on. Once dressed, you grabbed your sketchbook off of your dresser and returned to the living room. You set the sketchbook down on the couch before going to the kitchen and heating up some water to make Cup Noodles with. It wasn’t the healthiest meal, but it was cheap and good enough for you. If you ever got rich off of your art, you could start eating healthier then.

Cup Noodles in hand, you grabbed your sketching pencils from your art desk and plopped down on the couch to finish up your current ‘work in progress’. You slurped up the noodles as you examined what was already on the page and tried to figure out what to do with it. Something about it just wasn’t looking right.

You grabbed the remote and switched on the TV for background noise. The evening news was on. As you set to work on the drawing, you heard a little bit of what the reporters were saying. The cops were after someone on the run but you didn’t catch who or where. It didn’t surprise you. This was Gotham after all.

You erased what you originally had on the page with a frown. The proportions just looked so off. Maybe your second attempt would be better. You tried to remind yourself that everything in your sketchbook was just practice. Some of it might get put to canvas or inspire a future project and some of it might not. Still, every time something didn’t come together right away you felt like a failure. You’d start to think that maybe you really weren’t good enough and that was why this art career wasn’t working out.

At this point you screwed up the second attempt and moved on to your third. You were growing increasingly annoyed at both the drawing and yourself. Nothing you did was fixing it. With an exasperated sigh, you started erasing yet again.

You paused when you heard a faint tapping on your window. You looked up at the sound, but seeing nothing there, you paid it no mind and continued to erase furiously at the drawing. It ripped at how forceful you were and you nearly screamed in rage. You took a deep breath and crumpled up the paper. The original drawing just wasn’t working. It was best to start over on a new sheet of paper. Even if this was your fourth attempt.

Some more time passed as you got lost in the drawing process and then you heard the noise again. Louder this time. Something hit the window hard and then the glass started to crack. It dawned on you that someone was trying to break in.

You scoffed. Not on your watch.

You turned the TV off, stood up, and crept cautiously towards the window, baseball bat in hand. With the crime rate as high as it was in Gotham, you kept an arsenal of everyday things to defend yourself with and had a plan in mind just in case a situation like this should happen. 

Intending to simply bash the intruder over the head and scare them away, you pried open the window just as a familiar painted face appeared right in front of you. You screamed and fell backwards. 

There was no way. There was no fucking way. 

The figure crawled through the opening and tumbled right into your apartment. Paralyzed with fear, you watched him sit upright in horror. This was no ordinary thug. This was the Joker. The Joker was in your apartment. 

“Sorry, uh, for the scare, darlin'. I’m kinda in a bit of a pinch here.” He said as he stood up and approached you.

You noticed he had a small limp and his clothes were soaked with blood. His hair was sweaty and wild. Very faintly you could hear his erratic breathing. 

“Wh-What do you want?” You asked, backing away from him. 

He seemed to find your reaction amusing. “Just need a place to stay for a bit until I can get the pigs off my back. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

You were stunned speechless. You could only muster a soft, “You’re injured.”

Joker shrugged. “Yeah. Happens every time. I couldn’t get very far with this leg.”

“So was this apartment building the closest thing to you or…?” You inquired, surprised at your own voice.

“Yep. Nice place ya got here.”

“I-I…I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

You didn’t like his tone. You took a deep breath and lowered the bat, propping it against the wall. 

“So you just want a place to hide? That’s it?”

“Yep. It’s too risky for me to travel across the city right now. I can’t get to my hideout until the heat dies down.”

“How long are we talking?”

“I don’t really know. At most two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! You can’t just-!” You exclaimed.

Joker threw his hands up. “I said at most.”

“No. You can kindly get the hell out. I won’t call the cops if you just go.”

Joker smirked and advanced towards you slowly, lifting his coat to reveal a hidden pistol. “Orrrr…you can kindly shut up and let me stay here because I’m the man with a gun.”

You froze at the sight of the gun and contemplated what to do, your mind running a mile a minute. Your shoulders slumped as you realized the position you were in. It was best to just go along with what he said.

You sighed, “I don’t really have a choice here, do I?”

When you looked back up, Joker wasn’t there. He lost interest in talking to you and wandered into the kitchen. You stared at the clown in disbelief. The fact that he was being so nonchalant and inviting himself into a stranger’s home baffled you. Man, the nerve of this guy.

You scampered after him and against your better judgement grabbed his arm to confront him. He whipped around to face you, his dark eyes boring into yours.

You gulped. “Shouldn’t we, uh, treat your wounds first?”

Joker lightened his expression. “Mhm. That would be helpful.”

You led him into your bathroom and gestured for him to sit on the toilet. He sat down without a word and stared up at you. You nervously grabbed a first aid kit from your cabinet.

“I don’t have much but I’ll make do with what I can. Where are you hurt?”

Joker rolled up his pants leg and pointed to a deep gash across his calf. It was swollen red and oozing blood. You had to turn your head for a second. When your stomach stopped lurching, you knelt down in front of him while still maintaining a safe distance.

“Anywhere else?”

Joker grinned and pointed towards his left arm. “Just a little graze on my shoulder. They missed me. We should probably focus on the bigger one right now.”

You nodded. “Okay, uh… I guess I should clean it first?”

Joker made no reply and just kept staring at you. You frowned. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, man. How do you usually do this?”

“You clean it first. That’s kinda obvious, darlin’.” Joker muttered. 

“Oh I’m sorry. I don’t get into police shootouts on a regular basis.” You spat. 

Joker snickered. “Feisty, aren’t ya?” 

You rolled your eyes and got to work. You took an alcohol wipe and disinfected the wound, trying to be gentle because you knew it would probably sting. To your surprise Joker didn’t even flinch. Sensing he wasn’t going to mind, you continued on at a quicker pace and wiped away the blood, patting it dry with a nearby towel. 

Next you grabbed some gauze from the kit and wrapped it around his calf to bandage the gash. You could practically feel Joker staring down at you as you worked. This was crazy. You were treating the Joker’s wounds and letting him stay in your apartment. He did force you, but still, he was an extremely dangerous man to have in your home. Was he going to kill you? Heh, you hated to say it but maybe that was a good thing. He’d put you out of your misery. 

You shook off that thought. No, y/n, that isn’t a good thing. Once you’re dead it’s over. If you stay alive, at least you still have a chance. You didn’t come this far to give up. He’s not going to kill you. You’re going to make sure of it.

Joker’s gruff voice startled you out of your daze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“Well y/n, you might not like these circumstances but it’s really helping me out. So, uh, thanks I guess.”

“I’m literally only doing this because you threatened me.” You huffed.

Joker chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Stay still. I can’t bandage it right if you keep moving.”

You didn’t catch the fiery glimmer of anger flash across Joker’s eyes at being bossed around. Regardless he listened to you and kept his legs still as you cut off the remaining gauze and tied the bandage in place.

“There. Now let’s take care of your shoulder. Can you uh…?” You gestured to his suit.

Joker yanked off his purple coat with a sly smirk. “Tsk. You just met me, y/n. Want my clothes off already?”

You turned beet red. “No! Ugh, that’s not what I meant. Just take off your shirt enough that I can bandage up your shoulder.”

Joker wheezed. “Alright, alright. I’m kidding.”

You didn’t find him one bit funny. Some clown he was. 

Joker finally got his shirt pulled down so you could treat the graze on his shoulder. You repeated the same process as you did for his calf and bandaged it accordingly. Joker fixed his shirt back and left his coat off, draping it over his shoulder.

You put the medical kit back where it belonged and started out the door towards the living room again. Joker stood up from the toilet and followed you, still limping a bit. He sat down on the couch and you sat down at your art desk across the room, unsure of what else to do but sit down. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you realized you left your sketchbook on the couch and it was still open. You hated when someone looked through your sketchbook without asking. It was so embarrassing. Flashbacks to high school replayed in your head. You silently prayed Joker wouldn’t notice, but it was too late. He picked it up and flipped through the pages curiously. Did he not have any understanding of privacy?!

“What’s this?” He asked, examining a page.

“It’s my sketchbook. I’m an artist. Well, sort of…” You answered quietly.

Joker said nothing and continued flipping through the pages.

“Can you not? Please?” You tried not to sound desperate.

Joker stopped and looked up at you as if he sensed your distress. “Why? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You walked across the room and shut the book, taking it out of his hands. “I just don’t like people looking through my sketchbook. I don’t know. It’s just personal.”

“Alright then. I, uh, assume art is just a hobby. What do you do for work?”

“I have an office job. I don’t really know what my title is. Receptionist? Secretary? Assistant? Something like that.”

“Oh. Sounds boring.”

“It is. I hate it. I’d rather be more of a professional artist but nobody takes me seriously.”

“Why?”

“Beats me. I guess those rich pricks would rather see a few slathers of paint on a canvas instead of actual art. But hey, I won’t judge the abstract. Some of it is actually meaningful.”

Joker laughed. “Yeah. One time I tried to rob a featured gallery in an art museum and ended up leaving with nothing because everything was just so tasteless. It was said to be worth thousands of dollars but I didn’t waste my time on it. Most of today’s modern ‘art’ is just crap.”

“I mean, it’s not all bad. It’s just so hard to get noticed. The reason that kind of art is so valued is because it’s made by influential rich people who get bored one day and decide to make a painting.”

“Well put.”

You blinked for a second and processed the story he just told you. He described robbing a museum as if it was the most normal thing in the world, like grocery shopping. It brought you back to reality and reminded you who you were in the room with. You held back a shiver.

“Uh, why exactly were you running from the cops?” You asked.

“Well, I just broke out of Arkham last week so I guess they were on high alert. My dumb ass decided to stage another heist because I needed some funds instead of waiting a little longer. Somebody tipped them off that we were going to be there and they showed up right as we tried to leave. Then the chase ensued and that’s when I ended up here.”

You shook your head. This was actually happening. A psycho killer clown was sitting in your living room and telling you about his failed bank heist. Why did it have to be you and not the annoying neighbor who lived right beside you? “I still don’t understand something. Out of the rows of windows, why did you pick mine?”

“It looked like there were no lights on. I thought no one was home.”

“Okay, but why the 4th floor?”

“I dunno. I needed to get up high to see what was going on around me and then I decided the best thing to do right then was to hide in one of the apartments so I just picked a random one.”

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath. You really had the worst luck ever.

“As much as I’d love to sit and chat, I’ve had a really long day and I need to catch some sleep. So I’ll be in my room.” You announced and started towards your bedroom door.

“Fine by me. You do what you gotta do.”

“I really can’t offer you anywhere to sleep besides the couch.”

“That’s alright. I can sleep pretty much anywhere.”

“Oh. Well, I’m going to bed now. So goodnight, um, what should I call you?”

“J is fine.”

“Goodnight, J.”

“Night, Y/n.”

You entered your room and shut the door, leaning against it once inside. You let out a long shaky breath. This night was just so unbelievable. The Joker was in your living room! And you were still alive! And he saw your sketchbook! You cringed, wanting to simply pass away at that thought. In the scheme of things you guessed it didn’t matter that much but it was still embarrassing.

You went to the bathroom inside your room where you treated Joker’s injuries earlier and brushed your teeth. You put up your hair and turned the light off before walking over to your bed and collapsing onto it. 

You were exhausted but for the first hour you found it so difficult to fall asleep. You were completely paranoid. And who wouldn’t be? All you could think about was the madman on the other side of your door who could kill you with his bare hands. 

Would he do it while you slept? And how would he do it? You shuddered at the possibilities. 

All the worrying and speculation only tired you out further. You stayed awake as long as could until your body finally crashed. You dozed off, all thoughts of Joker fleeting as you entered the comforting embrace of sleep. You could deal with him in the morning. Hopefully.

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

out of the bearded barley

Richie’s first kiss happens a week after his fifteenth birthday in the alley behind the arcade. It’s nice; a little dry, innocent yet far from chaste, and incredibly awkward. It feels like they both read a manual on how to kiss and are now epically failing the practical exam. It does confirm the secret Richie has kept buried deep inside of him for as long as he can remember though. 

He’s gay. Totally, completely, one hundred percent into dudes and dick, and fuck if that isn’t the most terrifying truth he’s ever had to face. Even worse than the fucking clown. 

Until this moment, there had always been a shining beacon of hope that maybe he wasn’t different from him friends, maybe he wasn’t one of the worst possible kinds of fucked up a man can be according to his shithole town. There’s nothing left of that hope now thanks to the tall dark stranger attached to his lips. Fuck, he doesn’t even know his name. Someone who does this much damage to his psyche should at least have a name for him to cuss out from here to eternity.

He’ll probably never see him again after this moment, just a stranger passing through Derry with no reason to ever return. Definitely not related to Bowers, thank fuck, or anyone else in the area if the way he so confidently pressed Richie against the brick wall in broad daylight says anything. 

Soon this will be nothing but a memory and the sentimental part of Richie that he usually tries to smother with crude jokes and incessant talking reaches out for every detail it can consume. 

The soft sandy brown hair that peeks out from under a woolen cap and brushes teasingly against Richie’s forehead any time either of them move. 

The rough corduroy jacket clenched in his fists, hands holding tightly to this dream for lack of knowing where else to put them. 

The big hands, warm against his neck, that block the cold March air from touching him. 

The way they gently tug him down an inch or two so the stranger’s feet can stay firmly planted on the ground, heels digging into the last remnants of snow like they have nowhere else to be. 

The bright blue eyes somehow icy clear around wide pupils yet also warm once they separate; filled with mirth at this secret they have carved into both their hands, pressed tight together to never see the light of day again.

“Richie, what the fuck?”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

"Fucker! Get the fuck away from him you cock sucking-" Eddie's voice fades briefly as the stranger simultaneously winks, shoves Richie harder against the wall, and takes off down the back of the alley, jumping the fence in a move far smoother than his kissing skills.

"Yeah you better run, bitch!"

Eddie stands beside him a second later, screaming obscenities down the empty alley like a bullying Chihuahua yapping at an intruder. He turns toward Richie who still stands frozen and slumped against the wall as his short life passes before his eyes. Of course the first time he kisses a dude he gets caught. Of course it's Eddie who catches him. What a goddamn cosmic fucking joke his existence is.

"You okay, man? Did he get a hit in?" Eddie's eyes scan his face looking for something Richie thinks must be written all over him, painted red between his fading freckles. Whatever he finds, however Richie looks post-kiss, must pass his tests because he pulls back his arm and slugs Richie in the arm. "Whatchya say to this one to piss him off so much, huh?"

It takes Richie far too long to catch on. He stares down at Eddie with his mouth open like a goddamn fish as it finally comes together in his useless hairless ball sack of a brain.

Eddie looks mildly concerned bordering on suspicious and it flips a switch in Richie that brings him around.

"He-uh wanted a shot at your ma, but I told him I was too much man for her already." Not his best work but it does the trick as Eddie rolls his eyes and turns back toward the street with a grunt.

"Come on asswipe, you owe me a hot cocoa, fucker."

Richie lets a breath slowly pass over his chapped lips, the air in front of him fogging up with the heat he expels and with it the last of his terror. He watches Eddie's ridiculous pom pom hat covered head disappear around the corner before glancing one last time back the way the stranger had run.

He brings two fingers to his mouth, pressing the memory deep into his skin before he runs after Eddie; away from the scary uncertainty of the future and toward a mostly carefree childhood of hot cocoa and initials carved on a bridge.

[nothums-from-tj]

Returning to my series of “barely anyone else cares abt this ship that I’m crying over so I’m gonna make a post abt them myself”: Mordeson edition

If you don’t like the ship please just fuckin scroll I don’t need anyone clowning today thnx

I have so many things I want to write and draw however I am so overwhelmed so I’m spewing my nonsense onto Tumblr to feed the like 3 people paying attention to these dorks <3 for the most part here are just like tiny little hcs/moments/ideas of them that have infected my brain. Cut provided to make it not unbelievably long for the rest of my followers

Categories: headcanons, ideas, “cutaways” (basically my iterations of what happens post-episode endings or in the midst of flashbacks/stories, between scenes, etc.)

I’d also like to thank @mushtoons for letting me yap abt them in DMs/on Discord, some of these in which I’m copy/pasting from my side of conversations with them <3

Headcanons:

-Mordecai sometimes patches up Benson’s hand(s) after usually breaking it by punching something out of anger on varying occasions

-the way they likely comforted one another during the Margaret, CJ, and Audrey heartbreaks with Benson probably gave Mordecai harder/grosser jobs to keep his mind off things and Mordecai gave Benson excuses to head home late to lessen the chances of bumping into Audrey

-the car radio along with show/movie nights consist of more bickering than watching/listening to anything

-Benson is the Worst backseat driver and Mordecai has to try to politely tell him he’s going to lose his mind if he tells him where to make the correct turn to both of their place of work; that said, for both of their sanity, Benson usually drives when they’re together

-there are days where Mordo has to literally force Benson to stay home bc he's either so sick he can hardly stand, so overwhelmed he can't think, or is in so much pain his body is practically crumbling beneath him

-sometimes when Benson gets reeeally into a beat, drumming on the steering wheel or a pen against his clipboard or something of the sort, Mordecai will try to start singing along to it so he’ll remember it for practice or whatever

-he has thrown hands over people trashing Benson behind his back

-and he has to semi-frequently talk/hold Benson out of a self-deprecating spiral

-Mordecai's parents absolutely adore Benson and were some of the first people to say "so when's the wedding!!!!" when first introducing him as his bf

-the opposite happened when Benson introduced Mordecai to his parents; I’d say his parents got divorced when he was young and his mom was kinda chill though his dad was kinda passive aggressive and just didn’t really put in a lot of heart, though Mordecai learned a lot more abt him from his dad than his mom

-Mordecai is the first to say “I love you” and Benson bawls on the spot

-Mordecai draws/doodles Benson during meetings/assignments when he starts to develop feelings for him

-Mordecai gets crazy flustered at pet names bc he doesn’t expect them whatsoever; he’s always been the one giving them rather than receiving, though he always appreciates them

-Benson is also crazy touch starved while Mordecai can be pretty jealous so usually in public they’re always seen touching in some way; one leg over the other when sitting, handholding when walking, an arm around the other’s waist/shoulders, etc.

-they prob hooked up at least 1 (one) time pre-relationship and swore they’d never tell anyone abt it

-Margaret and Mordecai are platonic soulmates as much as it is a dismay to most their romantic relationships; Benson is the first/only one of Mordecai's partners to fully accept this

Ideas (if anyone writes these before I get around to them pleeeeease please send it to me I’d cry /pos):

-swap AU of sorts where they have a secret relationship while Rigby and Eileen are more “center of attention”

-in addition, switching up Benson and CJ in a lot of scenarios make a lot of sense (specifically thinking of “New Year’s Kiss” and “Thomas’ Play Date”)

-Benson is such a little cuddle bug, Mordecai gets totally thrown off guard by how affectionate he is when they start dating

-Benson gets stuck having to watch his sister’s kid for the day while on the clock and as much as he loves seeing and hanging out w them he can’t do much while at work, asks Mordecai and Rigby to hang out w them for a bit until he’s done what he needs to and he later gets confused why his heart does weird flip-floppy things to see Mordecai being an amazing babysitter later

-Benson having a rough day mentally and asks to reschedule a date, which Mordecai asks if he’s ok and wants company which he doesn’t wanna “be a burden” or thinks Mordo won’t want to be around his sad self all day and he has to be kinda regularly reminded, “You’re my boyfriend, Ben. I always want you around.”

-Benson getting nightmares and/or flashbacks of the dome experiments and Mordo does his best to help through the severe paranoia and skittishness in the morning, unless he wakes up to it happening and he’s able to help him through it/get back to sleep

Cutaways:

-“In The House” Benson was nowhere to be seen until after Rigby finished his house/wizard story which Benson was like right next to Mordecai so I like to think Benson walked in early-ish into Rigby’s story and it’s Mordecai that beckoned him over to include him in the storytelling

-“Weekend At Benson’s” post-ending in which Benson maybe just felt too horrible to bring himself home so he hangs out at the house where Mordecai figures if he and Rigby feel awful already, Benson’s gotta be going through the same thing 10 fold so he sits with him all day doing his best to provide comfort and consolation while Benson spends half the day vomiting and sobbing from the searing pain in his throat

-“Eggscellent” after Benson getting punched, in which Skips probably had to be the one to tell Benson in private that while it’s ok for him to be scared and concerned and to feel betrayed and disrespected, what he said to Mordecai also wasn’t cool before explaining Jonathan Kimble and the journal he found; after apologizing to Mordecai he tries so hard to prove himself by being his biggest cheerleader, trying not to question the eagerness to be by his side and sudden overprotective urges

-“Return of Mordecai and the Rigbys” I think maybe a little bit too much abt the times they’re sent to the hospital and being the first two awake to have a few minutes to chat privately, and some of the dialogue I had in mind to not make this post even longer

-“Dumptown, USA” particularly when Benson went after Audrey broke up w him; maybe he left his phone behind, maybe he didn’t, and I doubt he was gone nearly as long as Mordecai, though he might’ve still been gone a few days to a week and incredibly hard to reach, leaving everyone else panicking over Benson not showing up to work to the point of sending a wellness check and getting ready to file a missing persons report by the time he comes back; Mordo’s the first to see him and instinctively runs to give him a hug, surprising them both

-“White Elephant Gift Exchange” with Benson being pretty OCD coded, similar to the first hc above following the “glove incident” where Benson likely washed his hands like 6 times to the point of cracking bc he didn’t feel “clean” enough (speaking as somebody with OCD and similar experiences)

This isn’t even remotely all of what I have this is just long enough already and I’m trying to figure out how I wanna execute the rest LOL. Anyway if anything here strikes inspiration feel free to write/draw/whatever and tag me bc I’m itching for more content of them I’m losing my mind <3 feel free to talk to me abt these dorks in DMs or my ask box too!!!!

[girlnadian]

i do want to hear about tabi, like, in general, but i do not have the power or skill or pvpciv knowledge to protect you from Every Yaoi Liker On The Site so use your best judgment. but i do want to know more about tabi and to hear your takes on her which are obviously correct.

ok since two other peopel also asked ill post one of my incomprehensible rants. under a cut. this post is an evil swirling black void of evilness so dont click it if its evilness will harm you

so tabi is the secondary protagonist turned antagonist of evbos parkour civilization series . For those two dont know. and his love interest. there are two main fanon characterizations of tabi i see one of which is the irredeemable demon bitch from hell (though some people frame this "positively" with fandom typical slay girlboss talk)

tabi is canonically without question the person evbo cares about most in the entire world . this is indisputable and obvious. even after she betrays him you never get the sense that anyone else even comes close. he is talking about her and thinking about her CONSTANTLY, with no disdain or grudge at all. he loves her !! and tabi loves him too even if its harder to see because shes much more closed off and not the pov character

tabi could have killed him. she should have killed him. he showed up in front of her annoying and lost like a yapping dog and she rebuffs his affection constantly but she Loves Him you literally cannot argue that she doesnt love him. tabi is a soldier. shes on a mission. she kills without hesitation and without care except for when its evbo. evbo gives her a clear shot and says "prove that i mean nothing to you" and she CANT!! all she had to do was kill him with the eternal sword and he wouldnt respawn but she Couldnt. when clown implies to her that evbo might be dead and asks her how she woudl feel about it she completely dodges the question. idr exactly what she says, something like "i would say you did what had to be done" but very very notably and particularly doesnt answer the question of how she would feel. because she doesnt let people see how she feels. shes closed off because she has to be but her feelings are Very Much There. i think because people disliked the girlfriend jokes so much - which, like, fair - a lot of them decided that tabi must dislike evbo for making them but thats just. not true. and even if she did return evbos feelings that isnt something she would allow herself to indulge in. she cant jeprodize her job. evbo is in love with her pretty much immediately and while i definitely Dont think tabi felt the same at first, even if tabis feelings did change her outward behavior towards him wouldnt change proportionately. she made the mistake of being a slightly unsympathetic and stoic female character so now a bunch of people hate her for hurting their sunshine boy or whatever. whatever

but the second mischaracterizarion i see a lot. and this is where im gonna get controversial abt it. is people that DO acknowledge tabi cares about evbo but have to. fuckin. make her his Mean But Cool Girlboss Lesbian Older Sister 💪😎. to reconcile with that fact. so they do not have to exert Too much brainpower thinking about a female character or god forbid a m/f relationship

it just kind of drives me crazy i know we are coming off of the sausage fest that was parkour civ and everyone is yaoibrained I GET IT nothing wrong with yaoi brain and the girlfriend jokes are cringey i get it I Get It. but. and this is my most controversial take in the world are you ready for it . pvpciv tavbo is just what people wish parkciv seavbo was. do you like seavbo but u wish they had spent more time on screen together ? bonded more? That exists. Its tavbo. their dynamics hit a lot of the same beats. but evbo more openly cares about tabi and is ACTUALLY INTO HER and theyre friends and trust each other. + pvpciv tabi and parkciv seawatt are very similarly driven characters. theyre warriors who are fighting for their home. tabi in the same way has to weigh up completing her lifes long goal vs her caring for evbo. and she betrays him but then spares his life . she likes him but she also isnt going to throw away something shes worked for since she was born. yyou people wanted enemies to friends to enemies to lovers and you got it but tabi is a woman and having to think about women is the enemy of all fandom spaces so no one GAF. in fact they wil go out of their way to Invent New Reasons why shipping them would be Weird🤨 like . everyone who says pvpciv evbo is actually a child. BE FUCKING FOR REAL !!!

and then of course seawatt shows up for one pvpciv ep and everyones like omg guys seavbo real again 🥺🥺🥺🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 bc they had like a single conversation . i like seavbo dont get me wrong im not trying to argue that seawatt didnt care about evbo to some degree. Happy for you seavbo warriors i love that you got that W. its just that. like. gestures like an insane person. You see the double standard right. am i crazy. chat am i crazy be real.

[sacuniversaltrip]

WELCOME TO THE STAR AND COMSO UNIVERSAL AU TRIP !!

hi hi hello ! and WELCOMEE to the S&CuAUt!! this blog is a collaborative project between @roseetube & @eli-au !! we hope you enjoy this little AU we came up with on a wednesday night,, on this blog we will post comics, doodles, one-shot fics, etc etc !! [also! with the comics, there will be 2 different versions, Eli's version of the story, and Rose's version of the story, same characters, different scenarios)

make sure to check out our ao3 and tumblr pages ! we upload consistently about our au's and ao3's !!! check em out !! :D

╰┈➤ ⋆.ೃ LORE / STORY ! ࿔*:･

one day, lion takes star and cosmo to some place he wanted to show them, then once exploring around cosmo finds, some kind of, time thing? he isn't sure what it is, so he asks star, (star also doesn't know what said item is either), cosmo finds a button on the doohickey, his silly ass presses the button, the item starts to glow, then, BAM !!!! that's when their UNIVERSAL TRIP STARTS !!! they go around, meeting all of @eli-au 's AU's !! and some of @roxyz-silly-box's AU !!! [ go check out her ao3 !!](in a comic format,)

≡;- ꒰ ° MAIN CHARACTERS ! ꒱

MEET: COMSO AND STAR !! if your wondering who is who, then boy oh boy do I have an answer for you !! on the left, is COSMO ! on the right, is STAR !!

STAR and COMSO are STEVEN'S human and gem halves respectively. they have a brother-like relationship and always want to be in each other's company. they try to always be in physical contact (hand holding, leaning on each other, hugging, etc) for STAR'S safety and COSMO'S comfort.

COSMO is the brighter of the two (get it :3)!! he is very naive and that makes him more optimistic than his human. COSMO, or COS as STAR calls him, loves eating, sleeping, learning new things, or other very human activities, he has amnesia due to being rejuvenated during the whole spinel incident, so he is re-learning how to really live, to be human. he's definitely a clinger, always wanting to have his other half within arm's reach (such a snuggle bug). he dislikes, being alone for too long, large groups of people(bro spent most of his life alone in the fusionscape), and loud noises.

STAR is STEVEN's human half (do not call him STEVEN he will cry)!!! he is the lower energy one of the pair (consequences of STEVEN not sleeping enough), always using COSMO to slump over on. while fused, he is usually the "driver" and unfused he is the voice of reason between the two. He acts pretty similarly to how STEVEN was during the second half of future (more subdued/cynical). he enjoys naps, lazy nights with COMOS or CONNIE, and listening to other people yap (COS is a big yapper). He dislikes, too much physical activity, the diamonds, being compared to STEVEN, and being alone (he would probably die).

⇢ ˗ˏˋ AU LIST !! ࿐ྂ

so, you remember how earlier it was stated that STAR and COS were gonna be visiting a whole bunch of AU's? well, here's the overgrowing list of AU's they will be visiting !!

band!au - solarstars

dreamcore!au - playhouse

evil!au - shattered

gemswap!au - not my gem

cracked!au - cracked

possessed!au - not me

4thwall!au - other side

cry for help!au - used

white possessed!au - feared

back to the moon!au - back to the moon

itty bitty!au - itty bitty

escape!au - im not her

office!au - office

school band!au - school band

jester / clown!au - fools play

cracked!gem!au - destroyed

greedy!au - last stage capitalism

dead!au - ruined

paranoid!au - paranoid

restaurant!au - restaurant

weirdcore!au - bounce house

switchup!au - swap roles

manic!au - manic

computer!au - 8-bit chip

actor!au - actor

school theater!au - school theater

mech!au - your fault

lost interest!au - keep going

painter!au - artists passion

fast food!au - order up

band!amnesia!au - not centered

robot!au - metallic

alien!au - bug

onyx!au - onyx

goth!au - standing out

returned!au - you’ll make the change

diamond!au - overpowered

teamup!au - revenge

timetravel!au - overwritten

rubberhose!au - looney tunes

yandere!au - obsessive

cowboy!au - the other ruby rider

timekeeper!au - timekeeper

SO YEAH, THATS A LOT RIGHT ?? WELL, EXPECT UPDATES SOON !! ENJOY :D

refs with lighting under the cut:

[showakyonen]

I hope you know that I’m ecstatic to be following your blog, because I have epic amounts of Pink City brain rot and seeing anyone say anything about it always makes my serotonin spike. like, your recent post about no one watching the other pink city stuff is SO real. I wanna know more about Elain, I wanna know what’s up with The Elders Of The Lost Eyes. What in the actual hell is up with the profession of Bounty Hunter?

No one I’ve seen has ever mentioned that clowns are a Species with gameshow stomachs who can choose to just die if the moment is funny enough. We have No information on some characters and have to make it ourselves or come off anon and rarely ask Goose for info. I’m holding up criminals like Gop and Nuzzner and wondering what in the hell is going on with P.C’s legal system (only bounty hunter enforced iirc) that these guys are both considered the ‘hunt this guy down with guns’ kind of criminals.

Vondu has PTSD. There was a fucking war at some point, and it looks BAD. Ghosts exist and can range from “typical ghost, maybe a bit annoying” to “makes you sick” to “steals the name of a loved ones and never returns it to you”; a celebrity actively On Air clearly shows signs of having a run in with the last one, no one mentions it. No one talks about how Ghosts are a thing.

I’m begging for more people to talk about Pink City

HOLY. WAY TO ENCAPSULATE HOW I'VE FELT ABOUT THIS SERIES FOR THE YEARS SINCE I DISCOVERED IT. LOTS AND LOTS OF YAP BELOW CUT

I THINK I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY THIS AS THE BIGGEST DARLY BOXMAN FAN LITERALLY TO EXIST EVER BUT IT REALLLLYYYYY PISSES ME OFF SOMETIMES THAT HE'S THE TARGET OF ALMOST ALL OF THE CURRENT ATTENTION ON THE SERIES, AND MOST NEW FANS ONLY CARE ABOUT HIM FOR LIKE 2 SECONDS ANYWAY. THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO THIS WORLD THAN DARLY, AND I SO DESPERATELY YEARN FOR LITERALLY ANY LOOK INTO WHERE THE STORY'S GONNA GO.

I LOVE DIGITAL CIRCUS, I REALLY DO, BUT HAVING TO WAIT HOWEVER LONG UNTIL GOOSE PICKS PC BACK UP (PROBABLY AT LEAST ANOTHER YEAR OR TWO) IS THE EQUIVALENT OF SLOW ROASTING MY AUTISM OVER A FIRE PIT. THIS IS TORTURE, MAN!!!!!!

WE KNOW FUCKING NOTHING OF WALLOWAD ENTERTAINMENT BEYOND DARLES, HOONIS AND I GUESS BEP, AND I'VE ALREADY BASED, LIKE, A CHUNK OF MY INTERNET PRESENCE ON IT. NOBODY TALKS ABOUT ANY OF THE TARGET BUDDY CRIMINALS, NOR THE IMPLICATIONS THEIR "CRIMES" HAVE FOR THE PINK CITY LEGAL SYSTEM IN GENERAL. ACCORDING TO HOOKS MCGIRTH'S RECORD, HE'S WANTED FOR "SEXUAL THEMES", WHICH ARE PRESUMABLY ILLEGAL??? THEN??? WHICH IS AN INCREDIBLY FUNNY IMPLICATION CONSIDERING NONE OF THEM EVEN HAVE THE ANATOMY FOR THAT KINDA THING. NOT TO MENTION FUCKINF. WHAT IS WRONG W YUSTER AND MILKPOOCH. AFAIK THE ONLY ANIMALS WE'VE SEEN IN THE SERIES BESIDES THE CROWS. AND BOTH OF THEM ARE SEEMINGLY CAPABLE OF COMMUNICATION? DARLY CAN UNDERSTAND MILKPOOCH, AND YUSTER LITERALLY JUST TALKS. WHO LET THEM DO THAT.

CLOWNS AND GHOSTS ARE BOTH INTERESTING TO ME IN THE SENSE OF, LIKE. I'D GO AS FAR AS TO SAY THEY'RE ALMOST A SEPERATE SPECIES FROM THE REST OF THE SHAPE PEOPLE. PC GHOSTS ARE MORE AKIN TO CRYPTIDS IN THE TRADITIONAL SENSE (LIKE VAMPIRES, WEREWOLVES, DEMONS, ETC) AND CLOWNS HAVE WHATEVER'S GOING ON WITH THEM. CLOWN DNA AND WHAT NOT. THOUGHT FAERIES ARE TOUCHED ON LITERALLY ONCE IN DENTO TAKES THE STAIRS AND WE HAVE NOT SEEN THEM SINCE. APPARENTLY EVERYONE HAS THEM. THEY JUST DO THAT

ALSO KNOWING THAT VONDU IS *YOUNGER* THAN DARLES NEMENI MEANS THAT DARLES WAS AROUND FOR THE WAR AS WELL AND I THINK THAT COULD HAVE SOME POTENTIALLY WILD IMPLICATIONS. DARLY BOXMAN BEING CREATED OR CONCEPTUALIZED DURING WARTIME.

SINCE YOU'VE BEEN FOLLOWING MY BLOG FOR A WHILE, I'LL ASSUME YOU'VE SEEN THAT POST I MADE ABOUT ELAIN POTENTIALLY HAVING BRAIN DAMAGE. THAT'S STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITE THEORIES.

I'VE BEEN ABLE TO QUELL A LOT OF MY UNREST AND URGES TO TEAR AT THE WALLS OF MY HOUSE AND HOME BY WORKING ON THE LOVELY MIRAHEZE WIKI (WHICH I ALSO GOT UP AND RUNNING IN THE FIRST PLACE). IF THAT'S SOMETHING YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN CONTRIBUTING TO. I'D SAY THERE'S STILL A GOOD BIT LEFT TO DO, ESPECIALLY INVOLVING LIKE. CSS AND WHATNOT. WE HAVE A SERVER BUT IT'S PRETTY DEAD BECAUSE EVERYONE BESIDES ME AND MY FRIENDS HAVE PRETTY MUCHED STOPPED CARING. SAD. WHAT CAN YOU DO?

THANKS FOR SENDING IN SUCH A LOVELY ASK, AND ALSO GIVING ME AN OPPORTUNITY TO INFODUMP A LITTLE BIT TOO. I ENJOYED READING WHAT YOU HAD TO SAY AS WELL o^_^o

[katrina407]

Midweek Wednesday

JUNE 11th 2025, wed so a wait for the computer

renovations still feel (hey after a Whole year showers in Women s area now alone in the single with um curtains but here is the catch any minute the Door opens soemone still see ya um "nude" still kind of shy about that , i have been caugh on Thee throne (nee tiolet it is a all gender washroom you know mostly men etc

anyway for 2 days there has been SCREAMING when we (hey folks i have enough trouble sleepin, so the cause? a Older women whom is either Mental so for oh oh last week she took food without asking STAFF major No No even if you are STRAVING you are NOT allowed etc SIGH so today they turned new BED get this though Q does a NUMBER mean anything? She is Lawn Bed #00 hmm

well i left today is PIZZA POP day had to turn my BACK mr bozo the dirth flithy CLOWN watchs Did he ever work for Security Um NOPE he is a major PEST there is this older BOLD gal, but he can no longer go to her she is the tYPE that will BOLDLY tell you off you can always tell she had on a sweat shirt saying "IM AWAKE DON,T PUSH IT!" she was also the one at easter loudly "NO ONE TOUCH MY DOG YOU HEAR!!!" anyway the oor pooch never gets out of his cage i know it is,nt friendly (like the owner they say) but still kind of mean cruel we have a fenced area Not big but still ,,she lets it out on her own sweet time Double sigh ms ARTIST "ANYA returns for free coffee but i ,(she is in housing) think she would love to be back in there she has that salk "Sucky look , she is very insecure women a arabic type etc however i wanted again to um WISH her well But she is the type that will shall we say Bite your head off with WORDS but now i,m wondering ms Bartender they have given her POWER

to write on the Board to Yap at the STAFF , she lies, she has turned on me and she Blames Blames , for being in Canada etc end of story for now folks Year of our lord 2025 Wednesday June 11th

[peofun1]

okay the new anime season is already in full swing, so I gotta get my thoughts out on the last season. because I have once again watched Way Too Much Anime.

same as before, we chose what to watch mostly based on which PV trailers looked interesting before the season aired. now I'm gonna yap about all 17 shows for way too long.

✨obligatory disclaimer that this is Just My Opinion, Man. if I say something mean about your favorite show, please don't take it personally!

everything we watched, in alphabetical order: Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings in Russian, Bye Bye Earth, Dahlia in Bloom, The Elusive Samurai, Isekai Suicide Squad, Magical Girl and Evil Lieutenant Used to be Enemies, Mayonaka Punch, Oshi no Ko S2, Quality Assurance in Another World, Senpai is an Otokonoko, Shikanoko, Shoushimin, Tasuuketsu, Too Many Losing Heroines, Tower of God S2, VTuber Legend, Wistoria: Wand and Sword

Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings in Russian - 1 episode, dropped funny that this one is first alphabetically, cuz I only watched one ep with a group of friends, mostly just to clown on it. I swear there's at least six anime exactly like this one every season: hot girl randomly takes an interest in the most boring man on the planet. Boring Guy is Boring. there's probably a weird little sister involved. but the girl is Russian in this one, because that's easier to write than actually giving anyone a personality. fucking snore dude

Bye Bye, Earth - 8 episodes, dropped this show is… weird. the worldbuilding feels incredibly dense, but also not very well explained. it felt like they were introducing new concepts and Proper Nouns every other sentence. I fully believe that this all makes sense to the original creator -- like I'm sure they have a 400 page Lore Bible with all the deep rules of their world, because it all feels very intricate. unfortunately I don't have that lore bible, so I found it really hard to follow.

that said, I think I like it? kinda? the animation style is kinda ugly, but for the most part I like the character designs. I think it's great to see a female lead in a show like this, and I really like what I've seen of the MC and her motivations. there's some really interesting fantasy ideas -- like the way people "grow" their weapons as an extension of themselves, MC's curse that her sword can't cut living things, this society that revolves so heavily around music -- but all of it together just becomes a confusing jumble.

it's not bad, but not good enough for me to finish this season :/

Dahlia in Bloom - 6 episodes, on hold this is honestly one of the more refreshing romance anime I've seen in a long time. It's a little slow moving and not very action-packed, but I love how well Dahlia is established as Her Own Person before the main love interest is even introduced. My girl has a career! hobbies! a friend group that stands by her while she goes through a messy break-up! it's so easy to root for her, and early episodes of this anime truly had me screaming "GIRLLLLL DUMP HIM YOU CAN DO BETTERRRRR" at my TV (in a good way)

and her main romantic interest is really good too! he has a personality beyond just being a perfect hot romance boy! the two of them have great chemistry! they act like adults and have a believable slow-burn starting as friends! idk it's kind of wild how realistic the romance in this show feels, despite being set in a fantasy world.

unfortunately this show did get put on the back-burner while we were watching a bunch of other things, but I'd really like to return to it sometime. I wanna see Dahlia thrive in her career and personal life!

The Elusive Samurai - 7 episodes, dropped okay, guys. you guys. listen. I really wanted to like this show, okay. I watched the previews and was like holy shit, CloverWorks has done it again. if this is as good as Wind Breaker, maybe I can finally forgive them for what happened to Promised Neverland. I saw the clips on twitter from episode 1 and thought this could be the big standout of the season.

but, uh. it's not. at least, not for me.

the tone of this show is extremely inconsistent. it flips wildly between wacky gag-manga comedy, and dead fucking serious horrors-of-war. sometimes multiple times in the same episode! add that to the break-neck pacing (in the first few episodes especially) and it left me with emotional whiplash. like, okay -- the more dramatic, gritty grimdark stuff I rather enjoy. the scene where the villain obliterates a whole battalion single-handedly, and then gets swarmed by adoring fans while the one survivor tries in vain to tell them what a monster he is -- that shit gave me chills. it's some incredible visual storytelling. but then the show inevitably cuts back to the weirdo priest doing some weirdo shit with the kids and I'm annoyed again. eventually I just got tired of it.

absolutely banger OP and ED though. probably my favorite ED of the season, and second-favorite OP.

Isekai Suicide Squad - 5 episodes, dropped boy, this one sure does do what it says on the tin. this sure is an anime about Suicide Squad -- yes, the DC comic book characters -- getting transported to another world.

honestly I was really enjoying it, at first. it's not doing anything particularly new, but these versions of the characters are fun and the animation was good enough to carry the story. and like, I'll say it -- anime Harley Quinn is pretty hot. I'm a lesbian with eyeballs, I can admit that.

unfortunately the animation takes a nosedive suddenly right around the point where I dropped off. the fight with the dragon is REALLY rough, like almost unwatchably bad. and when the animation is that bad, I stop to wonder what we're even doing here. they're taking a huge detour from the main plot to randomly fight a dragon, and it doesn't even look good. I don't know if the animation gets better again after that, but I decided there were better things to watch this season /shrug

pretty good OP and ED, though. I like the really stylized animation in the OP, and the ED is a decent bop.

The Magical Girl and the Evil Lieutenant Used to Be Archenemies - 2 episodes, dropped this one looked cute, but mostly I wanted to take a look because it's made by Bones. and it is pretty cute, but for such a prestigious animation studio, it didn't exactly blow my tits off. after two episodes, I really felt like I'd seen most of what this anime would have to offer. the guy is "evil" but has a soft spot for one girl, the magical girl is cute, he gets flustered when she does cute stuff. it's fine, but nothing to write home about.

the episodes are real short though -- about half as long as an average anime episode -- so it's not a huge time sink. who knows, I might pick it up again sometime if I want something fluffy.

Mayonaka Punch - 12 episodes, completed alright, now THIS show is the absolute underrated gem of this season. it's fun, it's funny, and it's even a little bit gay! the cast are the best kind of likeable assholes, and they had me laughing out loud multiple times an episode. the more emotional/dramatic parts are pretty well done in my opinion too. particularly the way the show depicts Masaki being haunted by nasty comments online feels very "real", without being too much of a huge bummer.

genuinely, Mayonaka Punch is just a great time. I never felt bored watching this, and I'd gladly watch another season if PA Works decide to continue the story! but even if they don't, I think this has a pretty satisfying conclusion. it's nice to enjoy a good 12 episodes that wraps itself up neatly at the end.

also my absolute FAVORITE OP of the season. I'm a sucker for OPs that are sung by the cast, it's super catchy, and the animation is great. all the references to actual viral videos and trends are funny without feeling forced or cringe -- jumping on viral video trends is what the whole show is about, after all!

Quality Assurance in Another World - 3 episodes, dropped man, I honestly don't have much to say about this show. the broad concept is kinda interesting (QA testers working on a full-dive VR game get trapped in the world of the game SAO-style) and the art style is kinda unique. it just didn't really hold my attention, unfortunately. my wife watched a few episodes past the point where I stopped and she said it kinda popped off a little later but ehhh. someone might really enjoy this one, but it's just not for me.

Senpai is an Otokonoko - 7 episodes, on hold so this anime was made for my wife specifically. she's read the whole comic (I think it's a webtoon?) and adores it, so she was beyond hyped for the anime adaptation. and it's honestly really well done! I think the way it uses chibi characters for comedy (and to save on animation lol) is really cute. the characters and drama are pretty well written, and I really like that the two "rivals" in the love triangle are actually friends with each other.

the only thing is that parts of the story/drama are kiiiind of heavy. my wife is a trans woman and relates very strongly to the main character, so it's a hard watch for her sometimes. even though she's read the comic and knows what happens, she's said she really needs to be in the right headspace to watch this one. there's nothing egregiously bad though, omg -- the worst I've seen so far is the MC's mom being really transphobic and them trying to go back into the closet because of it 😬 so definitely a trigger warning for that

but yeah, really like this one, we're just watching it pretty slowly so I haven't finished it yet.

Shikanoko Nokonoko Koshitantan (My Deer Friend Nokotan) - 2 episodes, dropped hoooo boy. the big meme show of the season. I feel like anyone who follows seasonal anime has probably heard of this one, at least. I saw the OP going around a lot, and I'll admit, it's an earworm.

maybe this is a controversial opinion, but ya'll, I did not care for the actual show at all. I went into it with pretty high hopes, granted, since people were hyping up how funny the manga is. In two episodes I think I actually laughed maaaaybe once? I dunno, the hyper-realistic CGI deer are pretty good the first few times you see them, but boy does the gag get old fast. even the scene where deer-girl busts through the wall of the classroom only got a little snort out of me. and then that joke completely overstays its welcome by going on for like two full minutes of gratuitous slow-mo.

really all I can say is: not funny, didn't laugh! Mayonaka Punch is way more fun, watch that instead.

Shoushimin - 6 episodes, on hold first of all, this anime is fucking gorgeous. truly every frame a painting. I've seen people talk about "cinematic" anime this season, and Shoushimin really embodies that. the characters, the environments, the framing, the lighting, ugh. I wish I could eat all of the lovingly-rendered pastries in this show.

animation aside, this is a veeeeery slow-paced kind of slice-of-life. it's all about small, mundane mysteries, so I can definitely see people finding it boring. my wife decided after about 4 episodes that she just doesn't have the attention span for this. I mostly like it though; it makes me think of a more chill version of the fake manga the MCs write in Bakuman. that said, I need to be in the right mood for something this slow, so I've been watching it on and off.

also shoutout to the OP because I am an Eve fan first and a person second

Tasuuketsu: Fate of the Majority - 2 episodes, dropped I would have completely forgotten about this show, if crunchyroll didn't keep trying to get us to watch the next episode. it's an extremely generic death-game show with pretty stupid rules imo. frankly I would have dropped it after one ep, but there's a cliffhanger at the end of ep 1 that was intriguing enough to convince me to watch a second. they completely undo that cliffhanger in episode 2 though. boooo 👎

best thing I can say about this show is that there's a plot-relevant kick to the balls. no I will not elaborate on that.

Too Many Losing Heroines - 12 episodes, completed man, okay. so from the PVs before the season started, I thought this one was an easy skip. I don't care for harem shows, and this looked like just another boring light-novel romance. no amount of pretty "cinematic" animation was going to get me interested in flat, annoying characters that I've seen a hundred times. we were literally late to start watching it, and only picked it up toward the end of the season because people would not stop talking about it.

so take into account that I am very biased against this entire genre when I look you dead in the eye and tell you: this show is kind of incredible? like don't get me wrong, it's not exactly re-inventing the wheel here, and there's some fanservice moments that made me roll my eyes. but overall, this has some of the best character writing and drama out of everything we watched this season. the girls are genuinely a lot of fun, and their friendships are very believable. even the stuttering shy girl, which is usually an archetype I find super annoying, managed to win me over in the end.

the male MC is probably the weakest part of the show to me, but he still has more going for him than most guys in this genre. I like that his story is more concerned with him learning to be platonic friends with people, rather than just trying to push him into romance with all the girls. even if he ends up with one of the girls in the end (probably the blue-haired one), I appreciate him building a real friendship first.

and I gotta mention the EDs, because each of the main girls gets their own dedicated ED song and they're all beautifully animated. the OP is pretty fun too.

Tower of God Season 2 (part 1?) - 13 episodes, completed I'm honestly pretty torn on this one. once again my wife has read this whole webtoon, so she would have more thoughts about this in terms of adaptation, but I'm anime only. I really liked season 1, even though I found some of the worldbuilding hard to follow, so I was looking forward to this.

and man… I'm so disappointed in the animation for this season. The art style in S1 was one of my favorite things about it, so seeing them drop that in favor of a much more generic modern anime style was a huge bummer. If it was done so they could go all-out on the action more easily that would be one thing, but all of that is pretty lack-luster too, and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

as for the story, maybe I just don't remember S1 well enough, but I was pretty fucking lost sometimes. this is another story with mountains of worldbuilding, and I'm sure some fans of the webtoon could go on for hours about the lore. unfortunately that's not me! maybe I'd have a better time if I re-watched S1. even so, I did like most of the new characters, and seeing the returning ones when they showed up.

I dunno. 6/10 overall, not enough Khun. excited to see Khun more in the next cour.

VTuber Legend: (extremely long LN title) - 12 episodes, completed I cannot believe my wife made me watch this whole thing. I can't believe I actually sat through every episode. this show is some peak brainrot, but that's not always a bad thing?

don't get me wrong, I like vtubers just fine! I follow a couple of english-language ones that I like, though I'm not deep into the ~fandom~, as it were. I have no idea how accurate this show is for Japanese vtubers, but boy are these characters weird and horny. sometimes they're funny, sometimes they're unbearably cringe. though that probably doesn't come as much of a surprise, given the premise. who knows, if you like vtubers and bizarre fetish content, you might like this one.

Wistoria: Wand and Sword - 12 episodes, completed this show wound up being a kind of sleeper hit this season. I remember basically no one talking about it before it started airing. it must have had some crazy word-of-mouth recommendations though, because it shot up into the top five seasonal shows on MAL at some point. I started watching from episode one just because the PV trailers looked dope, and I was not disappointed!

in terms of story, again, there isn't anything we haven't seen before. magic high school, kid who can't use magic and gets bullied, but he's really good at sword fighting so he kills lots of scary monsters. but here's the thing, guys -- he looks fucking incredible while he's doing it. this show is completely carried by its slick animation and art style. it's just an absolute treat to watch, and I wish I could eat the colors and intense shadows at work here.

it's already confirmed for a second season, too. my wife liked S1 enough to read ahead in the manga, and she said it only gets better, so I'm definitely looking forward to that.

Honorable mention:

Oshi no Ko: Season 2 - 1 episode, on hold okay this is embarrassing but IN MY DEFENSE! I'm caught up on the manga! 😭 so I already know what this season is about!!! we just decided to wait until the whole season aired so we could binge it, and haven't gotten around to it yet. also it's annoying to watch, since I don't want to pay for fucking HIDIVE, so we have to watch it……. elsewhere.

but like I'm sure it's good. this is easily my favorite arc in the manga, so if the anime kept up the quality from season 1, I'm gonna have a great time. when we get around to it 🙃

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (5)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

 Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au 

 Rating: 18+ / nsfw

 Word Count: 8.7k we really out here getting longer with every chapter because a bitch is hungry

 Summary: Privation looms lingeringly without your mate of whom hunts for you deep within the wood. In his absence, he still manages to fill the void even if it is only ephemeral. The sun watches while you fall prey to your desirous natures and it is only when the golden orb has begun to drip lower along the sky’s body that it is time for you to then be guided by the hands of other omegeans to prepare you for your mate upon his return even when no one yet knows, beyond you, who has already staked his claim on you. When the call of your alpha announces his incoming arrival through the forest beyond, that’s when you heed his howl and go to welcome him home, but what will you find when you get there?

 Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scent marking, scenting, fingering, begging, praise kink, female masturbation, cunnilingus, breeding/impreg kink, character injury (someone gets hurt, but it isn’t serious)

A/N: My fingers are literally sore from writing so much. This one got pumped out in like a day and I’m honestly a clown because we really out here going from 1.5k with the first chapter all the way to 8.7k for chapter five. I think my hands are still shaking as I write this, but hey, this beast is finally out of the cage of my mind like it wanted to be! Seriously, this one did take some hours of sleep out of me in its need to be written, so please feed my soul and let me know that all this effort was deserving of the lack of sleep in the midst of it being midterm week at my university. 

You guys have been so freaking sweet with your kind messages so far and I really am floored at how everyone seems to be enjoying this story, so please keep that up, y’all! I hope that I did justice to everything that has been written so far and more than anything, I hope to have been able to please you all with this next installment. Now, without further ado, I give to you part five of COC!

 Part 9  Part 8  Part 7 Part 6  Part 4  Part 3  Part 2  Part 1

Feebleness fleetingly finds you under its clutches while it grasps you within the boscage of the woodlands.

 It is commanded by the titillating tendrils of your alpha’s spiced scent and your fingers tug tightly around the fine furs without thought as you stare longingly at the mound of vestments that Jungkook had so torturously left in his wake, a whine releasing itself from the bowels of your body as you try to stand on dangerously debilitated ligaments that are still too weak to bear your weight after the satori that has swayed your entire being.

 Too distracted in the pheromones of him that wrap yearningly around you, you don’t remember to pick up the abandoned silken necklace that your alpha had wantonly pulled off and away from you as your wobbling knees bring you to the forsaken garb he’d peeled so salaciously from his beautiful body.

 Next to it are the shredded, tattered remains of the trousers he’d been wearing and, distantly, you wonder how many pairs he has ruined in the past through the multitudinous shifts he must have gone through as a purebred alpha that must have been so prone to surrender to his wolf and trade his human feet for the paws of his beast.

 Your wolf bays at you to pick both up in the need to keep as much of him near to you as you can and, with embers in your mind burning only for him that are stoked by his redolence, you heed it as your knees buckle when you bend with effort to grab them.

 Belatedly, it occurs to you that your alpha had not brought an alternative change of clothes given the state of his wrecked attire.

 As you slowly run your fingers reminiscently over the destroyed fabric, there’s a thought that pushes at your conscience between a pair of golden irises that flash commandingly at you and through the smoke that hazes your mind, you remember what he’d told you.

 “I expect my mate to be waiting for me before I let every wolf in this fucking compound know that you’re mine when I claim you at the ceremony tonight.”

 The words melt away at your insides in the clear claim that they heat you with and you really can’t help it when you bring both articles that had adorned him close to your chest as you turn to tread through the woodland back from whence you came as your cheeks run hot with realization.

 Your alpha would anticipatedly await you to receive him back from the hunt he was to lead in your honor.

 He wanted you to be there to welcome him over all of the other bitches in the pack and, like the dutifully loyal omega you were meant to be, your mind had already set into its stone that you would later return to the greenwood upon the sun’s setting when all the alphas would rightfully reemerge from the forest’s foliage so that you could greet your own.

 You would do so with open arms that would bear not only your warmly joyous touch, but also the mended clothing he’d damaged to hunt for you that would serve to preserve the modesty that he intended only to show to the pack. Beyond closed doors, you wanted him to shred it all only for you.

 Beyond all of that, though, there’s the searing flame of possession that your wolf finds its rump sat firmly against in the calefaction of the emotion that is ablaze within you and you find that you’re willing to fuel it into a wildfire so that everyone will know that your alpha belongs to you should he wear the restored vestments that you would effortfully stitch back up with the hands that longed to caress and find themselves over his perfect aureate skin.

 These are what have you promptly turn to leave with the flutter of bird’s wings beating against your bosom as you amble along in obliviousness to the pair of lupine eyes that observe you protectively in the distance.

 It is only when you walk so far into the rays of the reaching sun that even your striking silhouette can no longer be beheld by them that their owner whirls around, his ears flicking toward the clang of antlers that must belong to two rearing bucks some ways off and without a moment to lose, he’s gone in the rush of the autumn leaves.

 Lost in the sea of pheromones that wash over you as the spray of them pools around you while you press your nose greedily into his garment, you pay no mind to the mated alphas or betas walking about at the early hour.

 What does demand your attention, however, is the sudden onset of sharp, panging pains that, with every step and breathe you take, sink their teeth deeper within the soft skin of your belly, a whimper caught in the fabric your mouth is held against as a vicious torrent of feverishness has your body temperature begin to lower without the warmth of your alpha as a vicious headache starts to pound against your cranium.

 In the midst of it, your own musk pungently pervades the air only to draw the eyes of unwanted wolves to your sweet smell that is enhanced due to the starting symptoms that have already set your body off in the absence of your alpha that it pines for.

 It is only when you manage to close the door to your chambers behind you, with your alpha’s clothes covetously pressed against your nose as if drunk on his ambrosial taste, that you shirk Jungkook’s furs from your body to throw them on your bed as your wolf yaps insistently to  nest amongst the pelt until the scent clinging to it has rooted itself to your cot so that no part of it has gone unseeded by your alpha.

 Once you’re satisfied with the assortment of dips and ripples of the blackened blanket of pelts that cover your duvet in its entirety, that’s when you lay down to nestle the furs, your baser being demanding that you lather yourself in its savory smell that you wish to soak in until you reek of your alpha.

The soft, downy pelage of the pelt caresses you against your exposed calves so very tenderly and, abruptly, the dress you wear is far too rough as it grazes against your skin in your movements as you quickly divest yourself of it. Somewhere in your maneuvers to take it off, your legs rub against each other only for you to widen both eyes at the sight that greets you.

 There’s slick that all but drips from your sex and it glistens along your thighs in the thick coating that marks you there and you suck in a breath as you ascertain the afflictions your body has been wracked with.

 You’ve just gone into the pre-heat acutely accompanied by a fever that every omega has intermittent interludes of upon finding their alpha.

 As if to remind you of this, a sudden shiver falls over your skin in the frosted frigidity that freezes the air around you in how cold your boudoir has just become under your steadily decreasing internal temperature.

 Without the physical comfort of your alpha, you whine, your fingers finding his garment that you’d thrown on the bed beside his furs to quickly lay it atop your bare bosom, your nipples hardening against the flocculent material that is softer than satin as it brushes against the sensitive buds deliciously.

 You sigh shakily in satisfaction as the cloth along your chest coaxes your skin with its gentle warmth through its fibrous fingers while his furs embrace you as you silently thank your alpha for leaving such giving gifts behind to smoothly soothe you in his absence.

 Your moment of respite is short lived, however, when an edged twinge of a cramp bites low into your abdomen as you grimace in pain, a fresh accretion of your juices finding your folds as you cry out the only name that could ever hope to free you from such sensations.

 “Jungkook,” his name is whispered from your lips, an irrational need setting itself alight within you as the picture of your alpha half nude from the forest flashes provocatively through your mind.

 He’d been so profoundly pulchritudinous under the morning rays and, with those dark eyes and wet mouth that had been so eager to welcome you to him, he’d only allured you more to him between his words of letch that had left you so parched after him. You can still imagine the way his hot tongue had laved at you, can still feel the deep press of his digit that had pushed down wantonly within your own lips as you’d sucked at it like a newborn calf.

 His finger had been so obscenely long while his hands had been so lewdly lined with veins over the bones that bore so much strength and you wonder how those digits would have felt deep within your velvet depths while you ponder what those lustful lips of his would do to you if they found their rightful place along your neck. You cogitate how well his defined, chiseled body would fit against yours while he’d drive his cock without abandon into the silken home of your pussy while he’d utter lascivious indecencies to you born out of lubriciousness for you.

 All of this has your hand sliding down your body without pause, your eyes closing as new need begins to burn hotly within your system in longing for your alpha.

 Your fingers find your neglected bud of nerves while you imagine that it is him that stands before the legs that you spread without hesitation for him as hunger flares behind golden rises that sear cravingly into you. You envision that it is him that commands you to taint yourself this way as you breathe in the igniting incense of him that has the flint of desire smoke profusely with the heat that simmers there as he clouds your mind until there is nothing but him that lingers there.

 “Touch yourself for me, pretty,” his hazily hallucinated voice demands within your mind.

 Helpless to deny him even in your fantasy, you obey in the want to please him even within the imaginary realm your head concocts of him. Your brows pull together in concentration as a ring finger slips between your saturated sex to collect the slick that accumulates there before finding its place atop the neglected bundle of nerves that have been ineffective for years in relieving you of your deep desire that has only ultimately and uncontrollably grown throughout your years without the aid of the alpha that you belonged to.

 Upon the first glide of a middle finger over your clit, you moan, your other hand closing compactly around the bed of furs beneath you as you envision that pink tongue of his darting delectably from his mouth to lick at his lips as he stares raptly at you before uttering,” Come on, my omega. Show me how those tiny fingers try to sate that pretty cunt that only your alpha could ever satisfy,” you imagine that he leans over you to plant two hands on either side of your hips as he sniffs, his eyes rolling back at your musk as he burrs, “Let me see how you’ve tried to give yourself the pleasure that can only be granted by the alpha you were made for, pretty.”

 You shakily sigh in response in the thirst that implores the sustenance of him through another deposit of slick as one finger begins to slowly stroke your clit while your other dips between your generously wetted folds to circle and prod at the hole that woefully weeps its essence in the denial of what it craves most.

 Helpless in the inability to disobey him, one digit breaches your sopping entrance while your other streaks over the bundle of nerves crowning your womanhood in a figure-eight pattern as you throw your head back while imagining that it is his lips that find your neck to leave behind marks that brand you as his.

 “Gods, yes, alpha...please,” You cry out, your digits inadequate next to the ones that have sinfully set your soul alight.

 Your finger sinks easily into your wet sheath as you drive it back and forth before your pace inevitably quickens, your hips pitifully trying to chase the elusive hand of pleasure as they begin to gyrate atop the bed while your other hand latches tighter onto the furs beneath you.

 You envision that the mouth you wish would claim you as his travels torturously down your body until he’s peering edaciously at your glistening sex, the squelching sounds that grow louder in your fastening ministrations only beckoning him further in the drenched deposit of slick that amplifies it.

 You envisage that he brings one plump lip between his teeth as he stares like a starved man at you behind eyes that glint with appetite as he hums, “Mmm, look at that cunt crying for its alpha. You really are desperate for me, aren’t you, pretty?” He lowers himself down to his knees to give you a piercingly hungry glare, “Tell me what you want, my omega, and I may be merciful and give you the release you want so badly. Obey this- obey me -and I will bring you to your end that was only ever mine to give to you, pretty.”

 Your fingers hasten their movements as you bear more force down and over your rapidly engorging clit, the digit that lodges itself needlingly inside you still not enough as you whimper out, “A-ah…please, alpha. I want your mouth on me. Give me your mouth, alpha.”

 The desperation for him flares as you imagine the smirk born of amusement before he descends down to your folds that shine with the sheen of your slick that has made a mess of your thighs and the bed of furs beneath you. You watch as craving of the likes in which you’ve never endured settles heavily across your abdomen only to coil tightly when, with his eyes still locked on yours, his rapturous tongue licks a long, languid stripe across the delicate skin of your inner thigh only to cause you to bite down on your tongue in effort to trap the sound of sin that yearned to escape you in the fervid felicity of that alone.

 You envision your alpha lapping unmercifully at you until the only wetness draped across your thighs is his leftover saliva, your back arching with each flick of his tongue against the sensitive skin as you whine in spite of his teasing.  

 “Is my mouth all that you desire, pretty? I could do so much more to you with my fingers. I could fuck you so well with just my hands,” your alpha muses as one digit prods at your entrance unmercifully in the way that it nudges itself back and forth between the folds of your sex as you gasp out. It’s when he extricates it from you, with your juices still soiling his finger, that he takes it into his mouth as he groans only to have you throw your arm over your face as redness sweeps over your cheeks as you pule.

 Your alpha releases his digit from his mouth with a ‘pop’ as heat winds you up when he urges, “Beg for me, my omega. Only then will I give you more. I want to see how much you need me.”

 The words fall easier than the waters from a river as you visualize him smirking knowingly as he dangles your pleasure before you like bait on his hook as you babble, “Want your fingers, too, alpha. I want you to fill me up with them until I’m so full of you that I can’t think anymore. Please, Jungkook.”

 Without warning, two fingers push pleasantly inside you as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape while your alpha licks at his lips, entranced in the sight of his fingers disappearing into your sex before he brings them backward only to bury them deeply within you again without prelude. Hot breath is blown over your pussy as he separates his digits in a scissoring motion that has your walls contracting around him as you press your lips together in effort to stifle the sounds he so easily draws out of you.

 It’s when he furls his fingers inside you in a perfect motion to have your toes curling that your body trembles in the sensation, your alpha noticing this as he utters, “Take it, pretty. I know you can. You’re being such an obedient girl for your alpha. I fucking love it.”

 The praise has you preening as you pant and when his tongue flattens over your womanhood to trail tortuously up so that no part of you is left untouched by him, that’s when you keen.

 “Gods, you are so fucking delicious on my tongue. I could do this forever and never tire of your flavor, my omega,” you imagine that he replaces his hand with yours only to cause you to writhe when two fingers circle over your clit unrelentingly while he gives a light, chaste kiss to the innermost part of your left leg before, with lips still coated in your essence, he croons, “Because you’ve been so good in allowing your alpha to taste you, I will give you your reward, yeah?”

 You hardly have time to think on the words he feeds you with before his lips are planted over your vulva, the wet muscle attached to the bottom his mouth sweeping along your slit while his thumb whorls over the bundle of nerves as his nose brushes against your clitoral hood to cause you to cry out.

 “Alpha, please,“ Your voice waters down into a mewl as you envisage that Jungkook, without warning, pushes his tongue so far inside you that your eyes roll to the back of your head with a stuttered sound.

 You envision that you can feel the way he grins knowingly as he watches you fall apart on him, his eyes narrowing heatedly as he plunges the appendage damningly with you as he utters, “That’s right, pretty. Call out the name of the only one who can make you feel this good. Gods, you’re so beautiful all spread out and bare for me just like you were always meant to be. Fuck, pretty.”

 You do as he says, stammering out his name in labored breaths as you imagine that he thrusts his tongue into you without fail as the tip of it perfectly hits the cluster of nerves buried deep within you over and over again. Soon, your walls begin to clench tellingly around him and by this point, your knuckles have gone white with how tight you grasp the furs in the hand that you’re not using to sinfully stimulate all of this.

 When you envisage that it is his fingers that splay possessively over one breast only to fondle it amongst digits that twiddle your nipple between them while he looks at you with a hooded gaze darkened only with the most carnal of desires, that’s when the coil of craving within you constricts as your alpha rasps, “You’re close, aren’t you, pretty? Fuck, when I take you, I can’t even imagine how you’re going to feel around my knot,” the last word has your walls closing threateningly around him as you moan out in the need your wolf bays at to be filled fully and completely by the only cock that you want to impel itself in your silken sheath and in response, he hisses, “What, you like that? You want my knot, pretty? You want to be bred until you’re swollen and round with my pups? Is that it, my omega?”

 You nod, too far gone into your indecent illusion to care anymore as your back bows when he sucks your sex between his lips as you drawl, “Yes, alpha. Please, give it to me.”

 There’s a devastating chuckle between your legs that has you trembling in anticipation and when the digits of his fingers roll your nipple between them as if he’s done this thousands of times before as he pairs it with an especially fatal propulsion of his tongue that strikes your g-spot so piercingly that it has your body convulse dangerously around it.  It is only when you’re squirming that your alpha’s all-consuming irises flash commandingly as he growls, “You’ll get your fucking pups out of me only if you yield to your alpha,” he says with the eternal flames of voracity blazing through golden rises that devour you whole as he eats you like a deprived man while he professes,” Surrender to me, pretty. Submit to me and show me how bad you want your alpha.”

 He pairs this with a catastrophic swipe of his tongue once, twice and three more times before you’re throwing your head back in blissful pleasure as you fall hopelessly apart while you plummet into your end that wracks you to a writhing mess atop soiled furs while your walls flutter fiercely around the two fingers you had unknowingly undulated against in your search for release.

 When you extricate your digits from your body, a string of slick clings to your fingers and, longingly, you wish that it wasn’t your essence on your hand, but instead that of your mate’s.

 Only your labored breaths break the silence that sets in the aftermath of your indecent deeds, your muscles aching from the awakening of new ones that have not been in use before amongst the old that have been afflicted after the strenuous strain that your alpha had wrought on your body.

 It takes a few minutes to come down from your high and your headache is furiously fast in reemerging once the remnants of your climax have faded as you groan in effort to sit up. It is then that you notice the tattered trousers you’d neglected before in the ravenousness that had eaten away at you for your alpha and, with a new resolve that prickles past the prominent pounding of your head, you decide that now would be a good time to mend them so that you will have something to present to your alpha upon his return to the compound.

 You stand on unstable legs that are beginning to become a familiarity to you in the wake of your alpha as you pull Jungkook’s garment over you and are completely content with the way the article of clothing covers your intimate parts as you fold it over your chest to tie it together with a silken cord that had been buried inside.

 Finding your small sewing kit that you’d left abandoned in the corner of your chambers, you situate yourself along the cluster of plush pillows settled along the window seat as you set to work on fixing your alpha’s attire.

 You try to mind your fingers that the needle had left you privy to numerously numbed fingers because of in the midst of the late hours of the night after stitching together the ripped remains of the clothing that the pups under your care would often tear with claws that protracted and retracted in the midst of their growing bodies.

 It is a futile attempt, for the sharp spikes that shoot through your digits inflict themselves in you anyway. Your attention is far too focused not on the article of clothing, but on the one who had worn it.

 You wonder what he might be doing right now and if he’s been thinking about you as profusely-or lewdly, mind you- as you have been about him, your wolf wanting to howl for him to beckon him back as you longingly caress the shredded trousers while you pine for the warmth of his skin and the radiance of his smile.

 Sometime later, there’s an abrupt series of knocks at your door and you smile as you fold your finished work and place it on the table next to your window seat before rising with anticipation that energetically bounds through you.

 It was time for you to be prepared and groomed so that you could be received by the alpha that no one yet knew had already staked his claim on you. Every omega went through this period before their Offering Ceremony to heighten the chances of finding them a suitable mate.

 The door opens and in leaps your best friend, Niva, who was mated last spring as she happily greets, “Y/N! Are you so excited? Your time is finally here, darling!”

 You laugh jovially at her energy as you easily question with mirth, “Good to see you, too, Niva. I am, very much so. Is it just going to be you that has the privilege of getting me ready?”

 She enfolds you in an all-encompassing embrace and you mirror the sentiment, for it is in omegean nature to be close-knit and seek the warm arms of the dynamic that is known for their nurturing, compassionate nature.

 You wrap your arms around her, but upon your best friend getting one whiff of the heavy pheromones soured by sex in every crevasse of the room, her nose wrinkles as her face twists, “Ew, Y/N, did you seriously already get bedded on the day of your ceremony? It stinks in here. Your grandmother is not going to take kindly to this. You’re supposed to be pure, remember?”

 You stand back with a smile lifting at your lips, “I know very well, Niva. Have you considered,” you lift a brow, “that perhaps I am still the virgin you always like to mess with me about being and maybe that there’s an alpha who might have given me his furs so that I could have some kind of relief in his absence?”

 Your best friend’s eyes widen in surprise, but that is soon replaced with a knowing glint of mischievousness in one eye as she takes in the visage of your disheveled appearance amidst the only article of clothing that is entirely too large in how it dwarfs your much smaller body as she queries, “Judging by the smell, whoever it is must be quite an alpha based on how strongly your room reeks of him. Judging by how that excuse for a shirt on you totally swallows you up, he must also be quite muscular and tall. Tell me,” she leans close, “has he touched you yet?”

 Your cheeks turn red as the memories flash like moving pictures through your mind in a tale recounting what had just happened and all that had occurred before and within the greenwood.

 You pull your lip between your teeth thoughtfully before you quietly admit, “In more ways than one, yes. Gods, has it been amazing, Niva. He is so…so attractively alluring in every way.”

 Your best friend holds you close as she watches the emotion color your irises and, seeing that in combination with the way your very voice had lilted with the sentiments, happiness dawns on her as she cards a hand through your hair to declare, “Then I will endeavor to make you irresistible to whoever this alpha is, darling. When I’m done with you, your alpha won’t know what hit him before it’s too late.”

 You blush when she calls in your other two omegean friends of whom carry a large assortment of oils, herbs and soaps before the three disappear into the lavatory through the adjoining antechamber in your boudoir to set to work on readying your bath.

 You busy yourself in the meantime with thoughts filled only with your alpha despite the cacophony of chatter echoing excitedly off of the walls, your attention drawn elsewhere and when Niva comes to retrieve you, that’s when you look away from the window that you’d been trying to squint through in effort to locate your alpha that still hunts for you within the greenwood.

 When you step into the copper basin that is much too large for your smaller body, the waiting waters wrap tenderly around your ailing body as the steam wafts around you in the heat of the fluid that births it. A long, drawn out breath leaves you as your tautened muscles loosen while your friends pour vial after vial of lavender, spruce and rosemary oil over you, the viscous solutions draping themselves over your skin to coax open your pores so that more of your pheromones are released to further attract prospective alphas with your scent.

 Niva takes care to drizzle you in pink salt sold out of the exotic Himalayas that she’d acquired from an especially friendly merchant after being told it had the power to make the skin glow with the might of a goddess. After that, she then spritzes the waters around you with roses, passion flowers and red clover blossoms that decorate the watery landscape around you until its canvas has been painted a magnificent magenta while you’re lathered in the herbal bath, a sigh of satisfaction falling from your lips before your best friend starts her work cleaning your hair.

 Usually, you would purr at the gentle glide of fingers over your scalp, but not today. Today, there’s only one pair of hands that you want on you and they are much too far away for your liking.

 Once the suds of soap have been rinsed from your hair, that’s when you’re left to bask in the warm water that had been drawn especially for you, for each omega has their own variation of scents that they prefer to bedeck themselves with for their Offering Ceremony in effort to lure more alphas through an amplified air of pheromones surrounding them.

 You ruminate on what Jungkook might do once he catches your naturally enhanced aroma that he’s already admitted to liking so much and, for good measure, your fingers find a floating rose and draw its soft petals over your shoulders before rubbing it along your neck.

 When the water has gone cold and you’ve been immensely imbued with the essences of nature, that’s when your friends return to retrieve you from the depths of the basin that you’ve sunken into through your calming contentment.

 Your hair is aired with oaken fans brought all the way from China before they twine and curl it around until it rests artfully in a braided bun along the crest of the back of your head, two twin strands nestled right in front of your ears to petitely frame your face.

 You really wish that you could focus on the gossip that falls freely as leaves from the trees this time of year as they labor over you, but you can’t. Not when your head swims with thoughts only of your alpha.

 Caught as you are in the tides of him that drag you along, you do not feel the bristles of a brush along your eyelids as Niva tips your head back to apply the powdery coloring that will accentuate your brilliant silver orbs before your best friend lines your lids with the blackened stick of kohl.

 Even when a light smattering of the dust of crushed rose petals is painted over your cheeks, you do not look into the mirror, for your eyes are trained on the sliver of sun that begins to wane through the rays that begin to reach backward toward their parent as your wolf bays in expectancy to receive its mate.

 Once Niva is done with her masterpiece, that’s when you’re made to stand and close your eyes before you’re walked over to the mirror that spans from the floor to the ceiling in the corner of your chambers as your other two friends produce the gown your grandmother had had made for you for this very day out of an ornately sealed box that had been left outside your door upon your return from the woods.

 You hear the clicks of the chest that signal its opening, excitement enthusiastically running amok within you when there are three collective gasps behind you as they stare in awe at your gown.

 It is lifted gingerly and delicately in its fragility and your friends help you into it slowly while slightly stiffened organza material skims your skin as it is pulled meticulously up and over your body. Once your arms have been lifted through the hollow holes and the pleated style sleeves rest atop your shoulders, that’s when the laces lining the back of the gown are pulled taut and the bodice constricts around you as you wince at the unyielding tightness that winds around your abdomen.

 Once the ties to your dress have been neatly crossed over each other in a complicated complexity that you will never see, that is the moment that you hear the distinguishing groan of aged wood being opened in the form of another box. The contents within that are unknown to you, but upon the cold, heavy material that encircles your neck, you can surmise that it is a choker meant to conceal the area so untouchable to all but the alpha whose mark you would eventually bear in its stead.

 Your best friend smiles fondly at her finished piece of artwork before stepping to the side to say, “Open your eyes, Y/N. It’s time for you to see how much the moon favors her most adored daughter.”

 You open your eyes in questioning, but before you can turn your attention to your friend, the image in the mirror captures it first as your breath catches at the sight it bestows to you, your jaw falling open in wonderment.

 Your skin all but glows under the gleam of sunlight that tries to tread over your radiance in its dimming dance as irises the color of moonlight piercingly stare back at you from under eyelids speckled with silver like the celestial body amidst the smudges of blended eyeshadow along the sides that beseech boldness in the color that matches the soils of the earth. It is set off by a cat-eye of kohl liner that is dappled thinly along the tips of your lids to demand attention in the way that it contrasts your irises. Even your lips have been streaked with the crimson of a rose to beckon beguilingly in the wish to be looked at.

 Embellishing your neck is a choker made entirely of moonstone that is set between chromium on each side. Its base rests just above your collarbones and, its thickness, it extends about two inches upward to hide away your sensitive scent glands as it covers your skin.

 Below that, though, that’s what really takes your breath away.

 Your gown looks to have been crafted from the threads of the moon’s core in the white of it that adorns your body in its entirety. Layers of gossamer-like fabric compose your dress and set carefully between it all are specks that shine like grayed moondust in the light that glimmers off of them.

 Your bodice is styled in a plunging ‘V’ that hugs your frame and is ceased only by the firm, fitted band that wraps around and hugs your middle well below your breastbone. Tied along its end is a very thin silver cord that twists into a knotted bow before your skirt loosely trails down and out, the train of it cascading like a sea behind and around you. Your arms are bare, but the sheerer and more translucent sleeves trickle over your shoulders and flow about to join the pool of fabric along your feet as you take a shaky breath.

 The woman that stares back at you is one that drips with the waters of clarity in the confidence that she exudes as she stands tall and proud. She is every bit the omega you were always meant to be as she holds her head high, her hands clasped along her front as she angles her head at you to study you and you have to close your parted maw as you stare wondrously back at her, wholly unable to move at the sight of the stranger that has your body in the mirror.

 When the familiar furs of your alpha are lowered over your shoulders, that’s when you look away, your irises finding Niva’s as she coos, “I don’t even think the ancient queen of the wolves could compare to you, darling. I really have outdone myself this time.”

 You stutter, completely in awe of yourself as you tell her, “N-Niva…this is… how did you-“

 Your best friend hushes you with a finger to her lips,” Shhh, that’s a secret, my dear. I cannot divulge my magics lest someone steal them away from me,” she teases as she puts both hands around your shoulders to encourage, “Look at yourself, my darling. You look positively radiant. Those alphas don’t stand a chance.’

 You think that maybe it is all just a trick of your senses and that it is just a hallucination, for you surely can’t actually appear the way that the girl in the mirror does, right?

 You find your visage once again on the mirror in an irrational need to confirm this only to widen your eyes at what greets you, for it is you that peers curiously back at yourself, your hand reaching out to run your fingers down the image of you that is set behind it.

 Your friends step back from you when your hand lowers and you turn to them with joyous tears that threaten to ruin all the work they labored so much from as they quickly fan the air around you in attempt to keep them trapped within your eyes as you laugh, your arms shooting out to welcome them all in a warm embrace that you are sure to thank them incessantly within.

 You enfold them in your arms until the sun’s rays strain to reach you, it’s descent into the night being announced with the raucously reverberating howl from the forest that has your blood singing in the familiarity that it is carried to you with.

 It finds your ears even here and you perk up, your wolf barking in need to go and wait for the alpha that every fiber of your being tells you is near as your best friend looks to you in understanding as she says, “Go on, Y/N. Don’t worry about us.  He’s waiting for you. Go to him.”

 You need no further coaxing as your feet move of their volition, your fingers closing around the mended trousers while you pull the furs your alpha had given to you tight around you, for it was tradition that omegas were not to expose skin before the Offering Ceremony and to be wrapped in an outer covering that preserved their purity until they were ready to shed it upon commencement of the event and acceptance of their alpha.

 The golden disk that once sat high in the sky now has dipped halfway below the horizon, but you need none of its light to locate the alpha that calls you forth as you tread tirelessly on until your nose brings you to the edge of the forest where an old trace of Jungkook still lingers.

 You crouch to leave his fixed clothing by the bark of one aged tree as you walk on, narrowing your eyes as you attempt to see beyond the long line of browned stalks that stretch on as far as the eye can see.

 Anticipation flaps with the fierceness of a black swan within you and when you hear the snap of a branch somewhere off to your left, you enter the thicket’s threshold without hesitation in your baser being’s need to relish in the warmth of your alpha.

 The stench of death thickly layers the air as you wrinkle your nose and as you find yourself standing before the broken limb of the tree, that’s when the dark silhouette of a figure steps out from behind it.

 The sun’s fading rays blind you to whoever you’ve found, but the voice that soon lathers itself all too heavily and viscously over your skin has your hair standing on end as it saccharinely presses, “Were you looking for someone? It’s okay, omega, you can tell me that you were trying to find me and profess your love to me. Everyone else does.”

 You roll your eyes at his vain vanity, “Actually, Taehyung, I was just trying to find my alpha who happens to be nearby and if he finds you here, he’s not going to take too kindly to that.”

 You turn away from the alpha, but Taehyung predatorily stalks after you and before you realize what’s happened, he’s in front of you to halt your movements, a twisted grin marring his features as he sniffs you, a tremor wracking his body as he does that has your blood running cold.

 “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, omega,” he tries to reach for you and you take a step back, not wanting his odor nor his filthy touch to stain you, “See, Jeon won’t be back for some time, sweet thing. He’s still on the mountain hauling back his kills that he’ll be too late to bargain for you with.”

 Your stomach drops to the recesses of your body as you try to move away from the alpha that hounds after you while your fingers tighten over the furs that cover you from his roving irises that roam all over you, your skin crawling everywhere that his attention slithers over.

 In the eyes that are glazed over from the onset of a rut, there is no care there. There is only gluttonous greed that bats away anything and everything that is not you.

 Your omega harks for you to submit under the alpha’s penetrating gaze, but you resist it as your own alpha’s voice traipses through your mind.

 “I will not tolerate anyone that attempts to take what is mine.”

 It is that thought that has you pushing past the instinct to yield to the alpha before you now as you shake your head, the surety set in your eyes amusing Taehyung as you spew its fires, “I would advise that you move away from me before you do something that you will regret. Your pack alpha has already made his claim on me and will not hesitate to punish you if you tarnish what belongs to him.”

 Your defiance has the alpha’s cock harden impossibly more amidst the divine incense you emit from freshly opened pores. No omega had dared to talk back to him before and it was inebriating.

 “Stars, you really are lust if it had a form, she-wolf,” the shadow convulses with dark laughter that has goosebumps growing along your skin as you back away, “Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You smell sweet as fuck, too…I wonder if you taste just as good.”

 Fear has your body begin to lock into place when your back nears the rough bark of a tree, “Do not do this, Taehyung. You will face wrath the likes of which you’ve never seen if you so much as lay a finger on me. I want nothing to do with you, do you understand?”

 A grin curls with malicious intent along its edges as he takes a step forward until he’s only inches away from you as he taunts, “Oh? You want nothing to do with me? Perhaps you shouldn’t be striding around smelling like temptation and sex in that little dress then, huh? You omegas always have a flair for driving us crazy when you present, but fuck, Y/N, no one holds a candle to you. I think,” his eyes glint dangerously when your back hits the thick trunk of the tree, “that you should be claimed by a real alpha that can treat you better than Jeon ever could.”

 “Taehyung,” you try through a dry mouth,” Stop. I don’t want this. Jungkook is the one I wish to bear the mark of, not you.”

 Panic sets in and seeps icily across every vein when one hand comes to rest next to your head, his eyes burning a hole into your neck as he makes a sound of consideration, “Such a lucky happenstance that the pack alpha didn’t think to mark what was his if he didn’t wish for others to taint it.”

 The alpha nears and the ache between your knuckles warrants the incoming protraction of unguis, but before they can make their appearance, there’s a raged roar born entirely of aggression that threateningly thunders through the woodland. It is stormed by the fury that is set between the crackling of claws fulminating fiercely over the trunks of trees somewhere behind you.

 It takes only one inhale through your nostrils to know who has joined you, your heart pounding faster in response as your wolf cries for its mate while his scent thaws the ice within your body that Taehyung had foolishly frozen within it.

 “I thought I made myself clear to you, boy,”  the sound bleeds into a menacing snarl from behind you and Taehyung stops in his tracks, seized as he is by the overpowering command of the alpha ranked higher even than him as Jungkook’s brooding aura pierces him like an icicle in the coldness of the familiar voice,” She’s mine. I would advise you back the fuck away from my mate before I do much worse to you than break both of your arms the last time you felt it wise to try to fucking disobey me.”

 In the chill of the frigid air that has his beast wanting to tuck its tail between its legs, Taehyung tries to ignore it as he dissentingly jeers, “Is she yours? Unfortunate that I don’t see your mark on her then, pack alpha,” Taehyung sneers, his eyes still settled on yours, though your attention is far from him at this point as you stare longingly towards the origin of where nails scrape furiously into the skins of the trees as he dares to challenge, “You are not the only wolf that thirsts for a she-wolf as parching as this one, Jeon. I could get drunk off her scent alone and you expect me to just sit back and allow you to take such an appealing aperitif away from me? Sorry, but I want to taste her myself and there’s nothing that you can do to-“

 The rest of whatever the younger alpha had been wanting to say never makes it past the confines of his mouth, for there’s a blur of golden skin that flashes before you and suddenly, Taehyung has been launched several feet into the air only for his spine to collide into the back of an old, stocky evergreen tree.

 The bark screams against the contact in the deafening series of snaps as the foolish alpha is slammed so forcefully into it that, like an arrow, his body shoots cleanly through the aged integument as the oaken pillar that has been broken in half falls to the forest floor with a thud.

 Golden irises find you under their attention as your alpha steps from behind you, your blood warming at his heated touch when he grasps your chin between his fingers to assess you for damage before laying his forehead against your own as you reach out for him, the pads of your fingers lightly trailing tenderly along his jawline as you quietly whisper,” Alpha.”

 Jungkook nuzzles you protectively before he rumbles out, “My omega. Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

 He’s like a furnace in the way that his skin is calefied with the intensity of the sun and you purr when he nudges at your neck as your palm finds its place where his heart beats like a drum against you as you tell him, “No, Jungkook. With you around to keep me safe, he never got that far. He was about to, but you didn’t let him, my alpha.”

 Your alpha bristles at that, his irises dimming in light of your admission as he growls, “He nearly did. He would have if I hadn’t come when I did. I sensed your scent souring and it led me here. Had I been just a bit later, I nearly would have lost what was mine,” you watch in awe how his canines draw themselves out of his gums, captivated by the way that they lengthen and grow in size until they protrude out of his mouth in their large size that is much more massive than the average alpha as he pulls away from the nook in your neck to lay a callused palm along your jaw as he utters, “I need you to stay here for me, pretty. That fucking fool needs to be reminded of who is in charge here and I intend to jog his pitiful memory so that he never forgets it.”

 He draws away entirely too soon as you whimper in his absence and you, with your eyes magnetized only for him, observe with interest the way that he strides heavily and imposingly through the cluster of trees to bear down upon the collapsed body that is a mess of tangled limbs under the broken arm of the oak he’d been forcefully thrown against.

Your alpha’s hair falls wildly over his face and, in the waning light of the sun, his eyes bear down balefully over the younger alpha as he stands nude save for the mended article of clothing covering his lower half that you had dutifully brought for him. 

 Fury is palpable in the way that it looms like a shadow off of Jungkook, in the way that it clings to his every muscle when he snaps with glistening incisors at the downed alpha as he seethes, “It seems that you’ve lost sight of who is at the top of the food chain, boy,” Your alpha towers intimidatingly over Taehyung, who hisses at him, “The one on top gets the pick of the fucking litter and that, Taehyung, has never been you. I am your pack alpha and I am the only wolf that can command all of you alphas beneath me. It’s time that I discipline you to make you aware of that fact.”

 You hardly have time to process the popping sound of bones before your alpha has lodged five razor-edged, serrated claws deep into the recesses of Taehyung’s left shoulder as the younger alpha yowls out in pain that can be heard miles away in its dismal din.

 Your alpha marvels at the crimson fluid that stains him as the red tears of Taehyung’s wounds pool around your alpha’s digits only to trickle sadly downward until they are one with the earth.

 Jungkook snarls forbiddingly when Taehyung squirms underneath him to hound out, “What happened to that mouth you like to fucking flap all the time? Too scared now to use it, boy?” Your alpha leans forward with anger flashing in his eyes, “I would suggest that you don’t fuck with me again, little wolf. You’re going to get much more than the fucking claws next time should you be foolish enough to try.”

 Your alpha draws his other arm back, your eyes widening in the darkness that is settling its dark shroud over him.

 Before another set of claws can embed themselves within the younger alpha, you call for your own and through the cloak of negative emotion that has begun to suffocate him, your voice slips between it to caress the ire of his baser being.

 When your smaller fingers enclose around the wrist of his bloodied hand, you gently coax his claws out of Taehyung, who crumples atop of the brambles along the woodland with a thump as you press yourself to your alpha’s back to offer with a soft voice, “Come back to me now, alpha. Your mate does not wish to see you so wracked by your fury. You’ve made your point clear to both him and to me.”

 Jungkook inhales deeply only for his muscles to loosen while your sweet scent laces itself around him as he turns to utter, “My omega, it is because of my mate that I must resort to the animal within me,” You watch as the dark emotion recedes slowly from his irises as he imbibes you, entirely too parched of you for so long as an emotion you’ve yet to understand intensifies in its wake when he confesses, “I can hardly help that when you beckon me so, pretty.”

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Mordent arc, Part 3

"Alright! Let’s go kick this things ash!" "Into the darkness we go. And we bring justice to the dark places." "Or at least fire to flammable places." This is a massive room, filled with every manor of torture device known to man (and a few that aren't). There is a rack, an iron maiden, a spiked chair, several stocks, cages large and small, the walls have shelves lined with all manner of torture device, chains litter the place and hang from the walls. "Kink-ky." "Not without consent it isn't."

"His suffering has yet to begun, as has yours." "Blah, blah, blah." "Dominus meus pastor; Qui habitant in eo. Quia ipse super maria et mentiri in viridi pascua: Et herbarum adclinavit me super aquas refectionis. Et animam meam refecit duxit me et semitas iustitiae propter nomen suum in." "QUIT TALKING MOONSPEAK AND HIT THE DAMN THING." "I had hoped to torment you more, but you are proving to be most obstenant. So I think the time has come to dispense with the pleasantries, AND SIMPLY KILL YOU." Jonni makes a yapping mouth motion with her hand. “Inquisitor! By the power vested in me by the deity and church of Ioun, I demand you return to your home plane or the nearest available dread Domain!” "Jonni, show this heretical birch how we do things downtown." "May Ezra strike you down for your myriad of sins!" “Yeah, well, I forked your goddess for a nickel.” "What's a nickle?" “It’s great, you take your knuckle and…” (lengthy description of improbable lewd act) "Ewwww, Jonni! I thought you were talking about some form of currency." “Depends on where you’re in prison.” "Always assume it's something lewd with Jonni." She touches the criss cross of slash marks on the left side of her face. "Sad thing is I believe you. I've been to Fundertainment land. I can never eat meatballs again." "The Inhuman. Which according to Solomon, is still technically alive." "We can fix that." "Jonni, what if it isn't a threat and just misunderstood. We might be able to reason with it." “Then fire a warning shot first.” "I'm starting to think there is a pamphlet that ghosts are given on how to be creepy." “How open are we to this place just needing to tell the next occupant there’s no basement.” The door opens, you are all hit with a wave of misasma, the funk of forty thousand years pours out. It's enough to gag a maggot to be sure. "Few things fouler than a prison toilet. A ghost prison toilet is one of them." "Fuck. Advanced Darkness." “I’ve only got advanced fire.” "Please let the Inhuman not be Semprini..." “But then we get to kill Semprini.” "Okay...all in favor of leveling this place and burying whatever is in there underneath as much rubble as possible?" “Yeah, fuck this. Fuck all of whatever crystal meth humping nightmare clown orgy jamboree this is.” "I don't know, I find a corpse filled party room up there with some of the worst places we've been." OOC: If Jonni calls for aid then Gorbash will answer. OOC: JONNI WANTS ALL THE AID! OOC: Being hit by a big ball of dead crap counts as calling. Jonni, of all the body piles you have been involved with, that was definitely bottom five. “Medic! And booze! And a shower! And ruminating powder!” "I know, I just really want a warm bath and this place is making me cranky. I don't like being cranky. Eat acid, you abomination!" "We've all been there. Let's kill this thing and then loot this house down to the foundations." “EVERYTHING BURNS! I AM DEATH AND FIRE AND LUST INCARNATE!” "I only thank Ioun that we are not going to be tasked with cleaning up after this mess." OOC: I prefer to think Marshall does not dodge, he just no sells, being the holy bulldozer and all. OOC: The only thing Marshal sells is merch. Only available at Gunder and Danzi's Fundertainment Land! Get your Marshal T shirt today, now 30% less likely to burst into flames. The remaining ghosts actually request you do not burn the place down. "Only because they asked nicely." “You, uh… you might want to put out the basement then. Just a heads up.” "Tis all here in the good book: thou shalt git krunk." OOC: Eating at Fundertainment land is a good way to gain twenty pounds, or to shred your gall bladder. "Iouns wisdom can grant me the ability to cook for 10 minutes. Yet somehow all I can make is instant ramen or burritos..."

[clownfuckery]

A Waltz with the Clown

PENNYWISE X READER

This one-shot is based off a confession submitted to @pennywiseconfessions in which the reader dances with Pennywise like in Beauty and the Beast.  Rated M for language and sexual content.  The confession that inspired this can be found here: http://pennywiseconfessions.tumblr.com/post/166467263592 

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“Dance, my little precious, dance!” Pennywise squeals as he kicks his legs out, one after the other in the most grotesque and jarring of jigs.  He stands behind you, guiding your movements along with his own, like a puppet muster with your limbs attached to imaginary strings.  Your body jerks this way and that way, being manhandled roughly and without finesse.  One wrong movement, just one sudden yank, and you’re sure your arm will dislocate from your shoulder.  You move along as best you can, trying your damnedest to match his superhuman speed and ferocity to avoid the seemingly unavoidable injury that is bound to happen if he keeps this up for much longer.  

You hate it when he gets like this, which is usually after he feasts on some sorry preadolescent urchin.  He always returns on a high, squealing and yapping, prancing and pouncing.  He is like a hurricane entering land, tearing everything in his path, bursting through the side door of the wagon where you are kept chained to its wheel.  The sound of hysterical laughter and high-pitched howls precede him, and when his bloodshot yellow eyes finally fix upon you, you know what you’re in for.  The stench of blood and pain overshadows the usual scent of cotton candy and popcorn that usually emanates from him.  He lunges for you then, and though most times you end up in some twisted, contorted position crying and moaning in pleasure and pain, sometimes you end up like this, becoming his marionette.  Like a rag doll, you’re yanked in all directions as he dances his high away.  And still, when he’s spent and sitting wide-legged on the wooden floor of the wagon, he reaches for you.  The end game is always the same: Mania culminates in ferocious fucking.

“You’re not dancing!” he yells, stopping suddenly and turning you forcefully to face him.  His bloody face is only two inches from your own, and his sulfurous eyes burn into yours.  You try not to gag, partly at the stench of death on him, partly out of vertigo.

“You call this dancing?” you manage to pant, turning your head away.  Even the stench of the sewer beyond the confines of his tower would be preferable to the one he carried now.  

He glares at you for a few seconds longer, then he pouts and shakes his head in disdain, the bells of his clown suit jingling.  How dare you refuse him!  Or challenge him! You, the little toy he kept for his own amusement, actually had the gall to defy your captor.  A growl begins to build in his throat, its deep vibration shaking you to your very core.  One wrong step, and he wouldn’t think twice of snapping your neck, or even worse, tear your traitorous windpipe out of throat and wear your guts for garters.  You get on the bad side of the clown, and you end up floating twenty feet in the air with the rest of his half-eaten prey.

“Can I show you something different?” you say coyly, lowering your head in submission but looking up at him.  You smile sweetly, and reach out to take his hand.  He looks down at your hand clutching his, looks back up at you, and you nod reassuringly.  Your invitation is genuine.  You know he has moments when he is playful, sweet even, like a petulant child reveling in the scraps of attention given to him.  But then, just as quickly, he can snap.  You know your survival thus far has depended on those moments in which you manage to keep him placated.  Will he now be the monster, or the playful child?

Slowly, the corners of his mouth begin to twitch, and the most mischievous smile plays on his lips.  Your own smile grows wider, and the two of you giggle in unison.  His eyes shine when he notices the twinkle in yours and he knows just exactly what idea has sprung in your head.  He always does.

“I’ve never danced the waltz” he says, half embarrassed “it seems so… dull”

“That’s because you’ve never had a partner” you quip, taking a step closer.  He goes to grab you, but you take a step back.  His smile is instantly gone.

“Uh uh” you tease “first you must… you know… take care of that” you say, wiggling your finger at his bloodied mouth.  

“Ah!” he exclaims in his childlike voice.  He lets go of you, and shakes his body vigorously.  Then, instantly, all traces of his meal are gone.  His face and suit are clean, his hair is perfectly coiffed, and he once again smells of sweets and butter.  Like a walking circus, you think to yourself, a smorgasbord of delicious and enticing temptations.

“Ta-da!” he exclaims, throwing his arms out in an exaggerated gesture, causing you to laugh.

“That’s more like it.  Now, put your arms around me” you instruct, and take hold of his right gloved hand and place it at the hollow of your back.  Your right hand now takes his left, and he instinctively pulls you in close, so suddenly that your noses almost crash into one another’s.  For a moment you remain thus, locked his in his embrace with his breath ghosting over your lips, noses nearly nuzzling.  Your eyes drown in his, and were it not for his façade and restraint, you would be sure to lose yourself in the deadlights simmering within.  Still, even after all this time, you wonder how you’ve managed to keep your sanity.

“Um…” you stammer, but you’re so close, so engulfed by him, that if you surrender and close the inch between you, dancing would give way to the inevitable end.  But not yet.  You do not wish to lose this moment in which the monster is tame just enough to enjoy the calm that hides beneath the tempest of his nature.  You feel jolts of electricity spark and sputter deep in your belly, sending waves that pulsate out to your brain and the tips of your toes.  He is standing so still, his hold on you firm and unwavering, his gaze fixed and unblinking.  You want to, no, need to give in…

“Follow my lead” you manage to get out, and a faraway voice in your head marvels at how you managed to keep your composure.  He is teasing you, just as much as you are teasing him.  A thin line of drool begins to slide down his bottom lip. You take a step forward with your left foot, and his right foot goes back.

“Now move to your left with me” you instruct as you slide to the right, and he joins you.  

“Now with the opposite foot, your left, you go forward and I go back with my right”

He is focused on the footwork, no longer looking at you.  When your feet join once more on the third step and you slide back to the first position, his eyes go wide with understanding.

“Like a square!” he exclaims, sounding like a four year old preschooler.

“Exactly” you laugh.  God, he could be so fucking adorable sometimes.  Damn him.

“Let’s do it again” he says and begins the routine.  “Right back, step left, together, now left front, step right, and together again”

“Oh wow, you got it!  Now, follow the same routine as we move around”

Slowly, you make a turn around the small wagon.  Then another.  As his movements become more fluid, he smiles and laughs happily in his throat.  He begins to pick up speed, and soon you are nearly flying around the small space.  Suddenly, he lets go of you, and you nearly stumble.  His mouth and brow are pursed in discontent.

“That isn’t right” he mutters.

“What’s wrong?” You ask alarmed.  Oh no.

“Music’s not right” he says.  Your eyes widen with realization and nod.  The calliope music that is currently blasting through the tower stops, and he now stands with one foot tapping in unison with his index finger that taps his lip.  He is thinking of waltz music, but can’t really place it, or recall it.

“Da da da dum… ting ting” you hum, remembering the classical piece with which you once learned to waltz, standing on your father’s shoes as a small girl.  A pang of sadness hits your heart, but you quickly brush it away.  Pennywise’s eyes go wide, he sticks his finger in the air, and his mouth opens in a wide, toothy smile.  As if on cue, the beginning notes of Tale as Old as Time begin echoing off the walls of his tower.  Your hands go to your mouth in shock.

“How do you know?!” you gasp, and he winks.  Beauty and the Beast has always been your favorite fairy tale since you first watched it enraptured at the tender age of five.  Now, a month shy of your thirtieth birthday, you stood before your very own Beast.

“Something is still wrong” Pennywise pouts, then he gives you the most lecherous grin.  With a snap of his fingers, the tattered clothes you wear transform into the puffiest, sparkly, and most glamorous yellow ball gown.  Your hair is now pulled into the prettiest half-do, and your feet are wrapped in gold slippers.  You look down at your hands in amazement as a pair of immaculate white gloves materialize up to your elbows.  You look up at Pennywise, and you are met with the view of a clown staring at you stupefied.  His mouth is agape, and his eyes shine with adoration.  You have no chance to react as he swoops you up suddenly, and he jumps out of the wagon, landing at the edge of his pile of keepsakes.  His high-pitched laughter mixes with your own.  

He places you on the floor, and pulls you against him once more.

“Now we can dance” he purrs into your ear, sending shivers through you.  You say nothing, for no words were needed.  Not now.  You lean into him, and as the song begins to build, you let him lead.  He waltzes flawlessly, and you and Pennywise begin to glide around the tower.  The small waterfalls of water that fall into the cisterns around the structure begin to magically glimmer, and as you splash around in the puddles of the floor, orbs of silver light begin to float upwards from the ripples in the water.  You are wrapped in a cocoon of silver white, and move transfixed, hypnotized by the way his eyes seem to shine brighter than ever before.

Around and around you go, and then much to your delight, he begins to twirl you.  He holds on to your hand as you turn outwards, then pulls you back in and he lifts you high in the air, his joyous laughter causing you to soar higher, higher, higher, until you seem to be floating, only to be brought back down into the safe anchor of his arms.  Without even realizing it, you begin to sing.

“Ever just the same… ever a surprise… ever as before… ever just as sure… as the sun will rise…”

“O0h ah ha ha ha ha ha… sing!” Pennywise exclaims “SING!”

The song now reaches its crescendo, and you feel weightless.  Careless.  Free.

“Tale as old as time… song as old as rhyme…”

He slowly brings the dance to a close.

“Beauty and the Beast” your voice fades, along with the song.  The two of you now stand still, eyes locked, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Your heart beats wildly, and if he had a heart, you would be damn sure its rhythm would match your own.

“So that’s the waltz” he breathes.  All is quiet, save for the gentle stream of the waterfalls and the haunting lullaby of his prey floating above.

“Kiss me” you whisper.  A small smile tugs at one of the corners of his mouth and he crashes his lips against yours.  You finally allow yourself to become lost, you surrender to his magnetizing pull.  You drown into the deep and delicious ocean of his mouth as the magic dissipates and his clawed hands tear at the aged and faded clown dress you normally wear.  You welcome it, you crave it.  This was your destiny, to become a prisoner of the creature that feeds on the youngest of your kind, the monster that haunted your dreams and now inhabits your waking.

Now, as your cries of ecstasy echo off the wooden beams inside the brightly lit circus wagon, tears of gratitude spill from your eyes.  For no matter what horrors await you tomorrow, at least just for one night, you were a Beauty, and he was your Beast.

The End.  

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If you liked this oneshot please check out my new multi chapter fic: A Monster for a Mate

[rkhugo]

open event! @solo

being somewhat of a class clown figure, being approached on the street didn't set him on edge or make him nervous, it was an opportunity to be a giant goofball basically. this student, park junse, had no idea what he was getting himself into at all. hugo would teach him a lesson in approaching strangers. 

“yo dude! god, i love cameras! want me to do a handstand? back flip? how bout some comedy? i got the best stand up routine--” 

he wanted him to rap. 

“well well well! you came to the right guy, are you a fan by chance? been to any of my shows? yeah? what the hell! you’re a student! focus on your studies you goon.” with a thwack upside the head, chastised him, tsking and shaking his head. then he pet the back of the kid’s head, chuckling amusedly. “at least you know who to go to for this little project of yours. alright get ready.”

he cracked his knuckles, rolling his head to get the creeks out of his neck and loosen up before rubbing his hands together and getting ready to spit some rhymes. 

liar liar, thats right sire i breathe fire when i hit the mic aint got time for coward friars, psych i love me some bait lure ‘m in then i spit right in their face you wanna be top dog? lil boy go back to umma do your lil yorkie yap yap while you cry about the trauma of coming into the presence of true rap king and you keep crying over booboos from my poisonous sting

the student gave him a thumbs up and he returned it, bowing a bit and thanking him before parting ways. “STAY IN SCHOOL” called over his shoulder.

[jrad-was-here-blog]

End of Tour

Hi Everyone! 

I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated you on my Central American journey but I’ve finally finished  the tour and really wanted to keep my promise. Just to preface, since its been a while, there’s a lot written. Thank you to anyone that reads all the way through:

So I’ve been home for almost 2 months now, and… its strange. Its almost as if my inspiration has disappeared. Actually, It’s a little scary. 

I’ve talked to my family and friends about it and a pattern keeps coming up in conversation. “Do you enjoy performing?” is one, or “why do you enjoy it?” is another. 

I absolutely enjoy it. Being able to connect with the audience is the best part. But the in between, the time of practice and honing craft, feels like the hardest part to keep up. It’s hard to stay motivated consistently, so then I procrastinate and put myself in a cycle of self sabotage. 

Maybe I’m not as motivated because I need to redefine what I love? When things are not as exciting, why does one keep going? A good example/comparison would be the start of a serious relationship. You fall in love and everything’s amazing. Things are going really well and you get in a good groove. But then suddenly... your bored. The light isn’t as bright as it used to be and you ask yourself “Am I really in love?” Does this relationship mean enough to me? I am now face to face with what I love and I’m asking myself... should I run or go deeper? 

That being said, let me catch you all up on the rest of the Tour and then we’ll circle back to that question:

Where I last left, I was leaving the town of Panajachel in Guatemala to head back to Antigua. 

There I performed for a deaf school called LAVOSI (Las Voces Del Silencio).

It’s great to get a chance to perform for deaf students having to rely solely on my physicality and actions rather than sound to tell a story.  

When I arrived at the school, there was a beautiful shift in sound. I could hear a light ruffling of the kids clothes. Their shoes were tapping the floor as they signed and grunted. They’re was a high amount of focus and quiet across the room. A yapping dog runs into the room, breaking the silence. No one reacted except for me, so they moved to hush the dog. As things settled, one of the teachers directed me to the stage. Just around the corner, she points to a back patio of sorts. It was a small space, but a space nonetheless. I nervously got into my costume in the middle of the patio, while the kids around the corner were still in class.

The performance began. They were a very well behaved crowd, and very attentive to my actions. When they laughed, their bodies jolted forward with a grunt. I felt good about the performance. There was a deep connection with each one of the students. As I left the building, a warm satisfaction swept over me. That happens from time to time performing. It’s a nice reminder of my love for performance. That little electric chill that goes through your body is addictive. I just wanna catch it and bottle it up, so I can ask it questions.

From there I moved on to Leon, Nicaragua. 

A high amount of tourists were aroound, and lots of beautiful architecture to see. White and gold trim were on some of the buildings, and then others were painted with red, pink, and blue. While in Leon, I connected with a group called Quetzal Trekkers. They ran multiple tours, and all the money they earned would be donated to NGO’s and charity projects. One of their projects, called Asociación Las Tías, is in a village right outside Leon. I took a taxi with Kim, one of the owners, to perform for the children there.  As we pulled up to the village the setting shifted dramatically into a Mad Max world. A long, hardly drivable, road was lined with large piles of trash and small shack homes. Emaciated dogs stumbled along, while groups of vultures were ripping away at undefined carcasses. In the center of the village, I could hear a group of children screaming. It’s that type of scream where you can’t tell if kids are playing or in danger, so I was a little on edge at that point. However, once we arrived 3 kids ran out laughing, and their faces were covered in shiny star stickers. One girl had them covering her lips and she was so proud of her stars.

Without even knowing who I was the kids embraced me, grabbed my hand, and lead me into their fantastical world. Walking up, there were fence posts painted in bright colors, hoola-hoops lying throughout the yard, and kids racing about loving life. The teachers directed me into a little shack to change my costume. I was pretty disoriented. I would smile and nod while everyone spoke Spanish, trying my damnedest to understand what was going on. Yet with all the confusion, I fucking loved it.

A teacher with a megaphone yelled something in Spanish, and all the kids got into a line. Kim, from Quetzal Trekkers, tells me there about to have a parade through the village and its probably best to wait behind for them to finish. Before I knew what was going on, I had joined the kids in their parade. It was a very hot day, so by the time I finished parading around the village with the children, I was drenched in sweat. Kim was right, I should have stayed behind.

The performance was wild. The kids wanted so badly to come up to the “stage”. Screaming and jumping, they tugged on my pants in anticipation. I always love for kids to come up on the stage, but if you don’t set any ground rules you can lose control of them. That being said, I decided to shape the performance around the kids energy. It started with one kid running up to smack my butt, while another was stealing my props. Another kid throws himself onto the stage, growling at me. I realized the control was fading, so at that point I just stood still and let him rip.  He jumps in front of me, staring me down, and growls louder. This kid sure is confident. I stood still and stared giving him all the attention. Then, slowly I turn him to the audience. As he growls and shakes, I look to the kids and point. Without even skipping a beat they erupt into a roar! It was a sea of howling kids. With my magic conductor wand (a feather duster) I direct the chorus into a beautiful roaring orchestra. Lowering my wand, I bring them into pianissimo and with a flick of my wrist, they explode into fortissimo! It was a magnificent piece.

A couple of moments, the kids would speak Spanish to me and I was little lost. This one girl chanted something to me and I thought, what a beautiful sound coming out of her mouth. It would make a wonderful song! So again, I conduct the orchestra of kids to chant this “sound”. The best part is later on, after the performance, Kim from Quetzel Trekkers in between laughing says “You know that phrase they were chanting? Yeah, they were saying ‘Shut up clown!’ over and over again!” 

That my friends, made my entire day :) 

After the performance, they wanted me to come back to teach the kids some juggling. We ended up making juggling balls out of balloons, rice, and plastic bags. Cheap and easy. I left that day completely fulfilled. They were all so excited to learn! 

Later that week, I met a tour guide named Anri. He thought it would be great if I could perform for the village he donates school supplies to. So, I traveled with him and a small group the very next day. We  gave school supplies to teachers in the village and In return they served us a meal of Sopa de Gilla, a traditional Nicaraguan chicken based soup with squash and yucca. It was delicious! Then, we traveled to the center of the village, and got all the children together for the performance. They were shy and quite, but I could see the delight in their eyes.  

*NOTE* When I finish performing, loads of thoughts seep into my brain.

This is always the best time for me to write. I can learn and create more, while moving and shaping things. Most of the time my ego will look at what I just did, and say it was all shit and that I should just give up. If I give my ego a little bit of attention, that could be the point where I somehow “forget” to write my thoughts down. If all else fails, write it down. Even if my ego shows up on the paper, at least it makes it outside my mind. It even helps me immensely writing this all for you. My mind races, yet when I write at least its on a track. *END NOTE*

Moving forward, I packed my bags and headed to Granada.

Moving constantly is an interesting thing. You don’t have much time to get super attached to a place. It can be a bit disorienting. After a while though, I started getting used to it. Used to the unpacking, and packing. Meeting new people and exchanging stories. Dealing with the constant questions when I tell people  “I’m a traveling clown”. I like those questions though. The more I talked about it, the more clear my ideas got of what I was doing.

Anyway back to Granada. It’s a beautiful city, and the architecture is incredible. Bright colors, and grandiose carvings all over the buildings. While there, I again had moments of fear of where to go and what to do, but I pushed on sticking to my mission. Some days I would feel disconnected with it, and then others the mission was crystal clear. While in Granada, I performed for a group called Empowerment International. It was a very large group of kids of about 85 in total. I felt a bit intimidated by that number. My common thought arose “This is going to go horribly!”

And if it does? So what! Hah! I laugh in the face of fear!

The performance did go horribly and great at the same time. There were some hilarious moments… and then other moments, crickets.  A teacher at the beginning handed me a microphone and that became another magic wand. I began to beatbox, and the kids would cheer for more. It may have been too big too fast in the beginning, but so what. I made a note of it later. I was having too much fun to really care.

Later that week I performed again for the same organization, but a smaller group of kids. The energy of a place can be SO different. Sometimes it can be very intimate, and other times its just in your face, LOUD NOISES! Performing outside for the kids was oddly intimate.  It was a very quite afternoon. A dry hot day, light breeze, and you could hear the squawks of chickens in the distance. The kids sat under a big tree, and the branches shaded them from the sun. 

I performed, and stuck to most of my act, but improvised a bit. They giggled here and there.

*NOTE* I’ve found it difficult to end performances because most of the time there’s no going behind a curtain to end. The best I found is pulling down my red nose and saying thank you. It gives the kids a chance to see the other side. I used to think it spoiled the magic, but In a strange way it seems to enhance it. *END NOTE*

After Granada, I headed to the island of Ometepe. 

The island was in the middle of a huge lake. Wild horses, bulls, and dogs were scattered everywhere.  I rented a moped and cruised the island to my destination. Riding along, large bulls slowly made their way across the road. Sometimes I’d see a family of 4 riding on a small moped: father, mother, son, and baby. Pretty ballsy I’d say, but quite resourceful. 

2 hours away from where the boat landed, I arrived at my hostel: Hacienda Merida. I liked this hostel for multiple reasons. There was a school connected to it, and all money made would help support the school. Also, the owner Alvaro kept the community clean by using his patented eco-bricks. The eco bricks were used water bottles stuffed with non-biodegradable materials. When using cement, you could stack eco bricks wrapped in chicken wire, and it would cut about 50% of the cement normally used. Also, Alvaro allowed the people of the community to make their own eco bricks to make a couple of bucks. 

The next morning, I performed for the hostel’s school.

Rather than a semi-circle of kids, it was a full “circus circle”. My favorite part of the performance was when I turned this one kid into a “karate master”. I picked him up and had him flying through the air like ‘Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon’. I had him fake kicking kids in the audience, and at that point I almost broke laughing. It was all in the moment, and probably the best part of the show.

Within that week, after reaching out to other people in Nicaragua to perform, and getting no response

I decided to move on to Costa Rica.

At that point, I could feel the trip reaching an end.

Once in Costa Rica I followed some Swedish guys to Monteverde (nicknamed “Cloud Forest”). Instead of rain there, it was a constant mist throughout the day. Monteverde’s based in the middle of mountains, so it gets pretty chilly at night. 

I made my way through the town of Santa Elena and was able to set up performances for a public and a private Quaker school.  

When I performed for the quaker school, all the kids were sitting down on wood benches inside this amazing open wooden chapel. There were big windows and wide open space for me to perform. The benches were set up in a semi-circle, and all the kids sat wide-eyed, waiting. At the beginning, the co-director Rick introduced me with a small bit between the two of us. At the end of the performance, they wanted more. They chanted again and again, “More, more!” I’d never gotten that before.

 I’d say this was the best performance of the whole trip. I was having so much fun with them. I didn’t have much expectation of what was going to happen, and before performing I had a nice 30 min walk to help clear my head.  

The next performance was for the public school. The principal wanted me to perform for each classroom (thats 18 in total). I performed for about 8 minutes in each class, which turned out to be a great exercise in refining moments. I took one bit and did that over and over again, and each time I did it I found more and more nuances. The more I did the bit, the more laughs I got. 

I was surprised that even some of the teachers payed less attention to the performance than the kids did. One teacher was on his phone, and… he was texting! Mid performance I stopped and stared. The teacher was caught, and sheepishly put his phone away. 

My last performance was at a small village near the coast of Costa Rica called Amubri. The day of the performance I brought a friend Katia with me to watch. We made our way to the village on a bus, crossed a river by boat, and then back on a bus the rest of the way. We met up with the village leader Danilo and his translator Kim. Once there, it felt a bit unorganized. Nobody really knew where to go or sit.

I wanted to create something, but I didn’t know where to start. It was kinda like street performance, where you have to attract people to the performance. The highlight of the performance was when a kid came out driving this toy jeep. He had to of been only 2 years old, but yet he was able to chase me full speed around the yard. 

I discovered later his father was driving the car with a remote control. I was pretty much the village idiot for the day. 

So fast forward to me coming home to NC, I’m driving home from the airport, and my Dad’s partner Mike asks me “What’s the take away from your trip?

I think the biggest thing for me was noticing how I talk to myself as an artist. I realized that the main reason my productivity suffers is because of how I talk to myself. Even when I read through my journals of the trip it was a constant cycle of me trying to discourage myself. I don’t know where it comes from, but I’m glad I’m at least aware of it. So circling back to the question “Should I run or go deeper?” Of course I want to go deeper, and to do that I need to listen. Simple as that. I’m sure the answers will reveal themselves if I just get still enough...

And thats that.

Thank you so much to everyone that followed me on this journey.  I appreciate you taking the time to read through my struggles and successes. Hopefully I will be able to fill you in on new adventures with clowning soon. 

But for now...

I bid you A’dieu. Until next time!

With all the love we can muster;

Sincerely, Jared & Roadie

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.  

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

*************

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving  you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

**************

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.  

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.

 Also read: Masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho. 

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

***************

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

************

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.  

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

***************

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!” 

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.  

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

****************

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

*************

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.