#this is for all the ppl who have followed me here since i left

[izzy-b-hands]

I keep forgetting I can't seem to get the current version of xkit to work on my new laptop and going to do stuff that it let me do fjldksafjdlsaj

[fiendishartist2]

guys what if i want to make my own apollo justice game.

[meejijis]

"Why are all SK fans proshippers" Silence fetus

[grandline-fics]

Hi! Can I request OP men (monster trio, Ace, Law, or anyone ur comfy with doing!) reaction to reader becoming self conscious and suddenly anxious when there are too many ppl around and they try to ground them? It could be a crowd or even members from the ship! Thank you ^^

DESCRIPTION: You’re anxious when there’s too many people around

WARNINGS:  none

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro

WORDS: 1,318

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I wanted to do more scenarios with some of the other OP men but could only manage two this time. I loved this idea so there'll be a part two in the future. I hope you like what I came up with for this

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

Wherever Luffy goes, a crowd is sure to follow. Whether its civilians drawn to his free and infectious nature or rivals getting into his face as a challenge that he doesn’t back down from the end result is always the same; very little breathing room because of the mass of people. For the most part you were used to this constant buzz of noise and cluster of presences but tonight it was getting to be too much for you. After a long battle of fighting groups of enemies to be immediately dragged into an all out celebration, you were reaching your limit of what you could take. 

You didn’t want to be rude to the people who were grateful for you playing your part in securing their freedom and leave the conversations or festivities too early but when eyes weren’t on you, you were definitely searching for something that could allow you to disappear without drawing too much attention or cause any offence. You breathed a sigh of relief when the current civilian you were talking to left you to grab something to eat. Idly sipping at your own drink you inched further away from the main hub of people, trying to feel some sense of security in a quieter section.

Suddenly from above you heard the loud and all too familiar laughter of your Captain that was already causing an infectious smile to pull at your lips before you had even looked up. Perched high on the town’s clocktower was Luffy, using the stone lion fixture adorning the rooftop as his own personal seat to look over the entire town’s celebration. Because your weren’t amongst the crowd you were easier to spot and when he saw you smiling up at him he grinned wide. 

Immediately he launched his arm out towards you and without waiting for your response he took your arm and pulled you through the air to land safely on the roof with him. Now out from the almost suffocating crowd you finally got a moment to breathe and look down at the view of the town now far enough away for you to appreciate the atmosphere and beauty of their joy. You smiled and settled down to sit next to your Captain, finally able to relax. “So why’re you all the up here in the first place? Would’ve thought you’d have more fun down there with the people.”

“Started to get annoyed when they kept calling me a hero, all I wanted was to eat.” Luffy explained with a grin, moving his enormous hoard of food back onto his lap to continue eating. “Besides when I saw the lion up here it made me think of the Sunny.” You smiled at the simplistic answer and looked at the fixture in question. As nice as it was, it paled in comparison to Sunny. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh which didn’t go unnoticed by Luffy. He recalled how you hadn’t be with anyone before he brought you up here. “You not having fun?”

“Not exactly.” You shrugged, unable to lie to someone so open and honest with their feelings as Luffy was. You could always trust him to listen and not dismiss your feelings. “It’s just been a lot since we landed here. The people are friendly but it was beginning to feel like I couldn’t breathe around them. It was just getting to be a bit much.”

“How do you feel now?” Luffy asked curiously, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable either. 

“A lot better, definitely like I can breathe again.” You reassured with a bright grin that Luffy returned while also reminding himself to always check on you while in a crowd like this from now on. 

ZORO

Why did you have to land on an island that was virtually a Marine base in its own right? As much as you and some of the others wanted to leave and journey to the next island, Luffy’s orders were final and he wanted to stay. Just because there were a ton of Marines stationed on this island and lived here with their families, why should he change what he wanted to do. As much as you wanted to protest your Captain you knew no amount of logic or begging would change his determination to explore freely. 

The most everyone could compromise on was the promise to keep as low a profile as possible and only engage the Marines if-and only if-your cover was blown. To ensure that disaster of a situation didn’t happen, the more level-headed members of the crew paired up with the more instinctual and chaotic members. Today you were left to walk the town with Zoro, the added element of ensuring he didn’t wander off into areas that would certainly spell trouble meant your worries were doubling. Every step you made through the streets, you swept a nervous glance around trying to keep track of anyone in a Marine uniform while also trying to pinpoint escape routes if the worst did happen.

“You need to relax.” Zoro muttered from beside you and you flinched, your already tense body coiling even tighter. You looked up at him with widened eyes. “You’re going to draw their attention and blow our cover.” At that you bristled but then panic set in and you couldn’t help but look around you again. With a sharp sigh, Zoro turned his body so he was blocking you from view and more importantly you could only look at him. “If you’re getting nervous about keeping a low profile but keep looking around the way that you are, people are going to end up taking notice and cause suspicion.” You opened your mouth to argue but you couldn’t, not when he was making sense. Still you couldn’t just relax the way he was telling you to. Zoro watched you carefully and frowned. “What’s got you so wound up anyway? What’s your biggest worry here?”

“Look around you!” You whispered. “Everyone is either a Marine or related to one. If we get caught-”

“We’ll deal with it as a crew like we always do.” Sometimes Zoro’s clear cut view of a situation was a reassurance but other times it was annoying. Dealing with a situation that could have been avoided in the first place was not what you wanted and wouldn’t necessarily work out as perfect as it would in his head. 

“I just don’t want to be the reason one of us gets hurt when fighting didn’t need to be an option.” You shrugged helplessly. You didn’t want to seem weak, especially not to someone like Zoro but you couldn’t change how you felt in that moment. “I can’t be so laidback like you, sorry.”

Zoro rolled his good eye but threw you a small smirk to show he wasn’t annoyed. Silently he took your arm and swapped your original walking position. While he managed to keep one arm lazily around your shoulder, he also managed to be just ahead of you enough that his three swords were in front of you, almost like a shield. “As long as you’re part of the crew we work together and do our part to protect each other, yeah? So until someone spots us just relax and try not to look so panicked otherwise it looks like I’m kidnapping you.” 

At that you laughed for the first time since arriving on the island and nudged his side while making no move to step out from his arm. It was strange how just being like this managed to calm you immensely. “Let’s hope Sanji doesn’t see. He’ll attack you on the spot and that’ll definitely blow our cover.”

“Yeah…would be worth it though.” Zoro grinned only to wince when you nudged his ribs a little harder. “I was kidding!” Well for the most part he was. 

[mobblespsycho100]

which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?

[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]

THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway

[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]

awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long

So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:

1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head

2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.

With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:

Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.

Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.

They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)

With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader

"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point

Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'

General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah

aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.

Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him

[iheartyouyou]

SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count:

Part: 6

previous part series masterlist next part

Authors Note: I’m like actually so sorry for not updating. I’ve just been really unmotivated but since season 2 is out I’ve gotten more motivation and energy to continue the series! Not proofread (like always) but please let me know if you want to be on the taglist or if I missed you! (it wouldn’t let me tag some ppl for some odd reason.)

“Y/N, wake up!” You hear someone whisper.

You mumble something you don’t even remember, shoving your face deeper into a pillow. You think whoever was trying to wake you left, and so just as you were about to fall back asleep a pillow hit your back.

You look up to see Jeremiah with a pillow in his hand… and he was shirtless. You lazily stared at his abs before he smacked your face with pillow.

Fuck, did he notice?

“C’mon! It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta go get up before her.” He says.

“Wha—“ You start, cut off with another pillow to face. You reach your arm out to snatch the pillow away, but he pulls it out of your reach.

“What time is it?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

“8:00”

“What the hell—“

“It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta decorate the kitchen before she wakes up.” He explains, throwing the pillow back onto your bed.

It was her birthday? Shoot, why didn’t anybody tell you? You would’ve gotten her a gift, you know you just met her and all but still.

“I’ll be down in a bit.” You mumble, shoving your face back into your pillow.

Maybe you could get her a gift later? What does she even like?

“Okay, make sure to brush your teeth… I can smell your breath all the way from over here.” He exaggerates, jokingly grimacing as he plugs his nose.

“Shut up!”

And before you knew it, you were back asleep. You were exhausted from the night before. After Belly joined in on your guys’ movie marathon, she shortly fell asleep and whenever you would close your eyes for longer than 5 seconds, Jeremiah would be the one to poke you, waking you up. It wasn’t until after the movies were over, Jeremiah woke Belly up and the two didn’t even have a chance to leave before you were passed out.

You rubbed your eyes hastily, jumping out of bed after you heard the multiple “heys” coming from downstairs.

Grabbing the first shirt and shorts you saw, you sped walk downstairs, following the voices.

“….Conrad, uh, do you wanna give Belly your present?” You hear Susannah ask.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Conrad responds, “Sorry… I forgot.”

Nobody noticed you yet as you watch the side of Belly’s face fall, a small frown on her lips.

An awkward pause of silence washes over before Belly quickly recovers, “Oh. That’s cool— I wasn’t really expecting anything anyways.”

Another awkward pause happens until your mom spots you. “Ah, there’s Y/N!”

You watch as all eyes fall on you, your mom getting up from her spot on the couch and making her way to you. She pulls out a small box from her front pocket, giving it to you. She mouths the words; “We’ll talk later”

You give her a tight lipped smile, before she makes her way back to her spot. You follow quickly, giving the box to Belly as you say “Happy Birthday.”

Belly sends you an appreciative smile, “Aw, Y/N. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfttt, of course I did.” You say, watching as she opened the box. It was a pair of earrings along with a necklace. Her smile widens, “Thank you!”

Conrad makes an excuse, before exiting the room as Belly smiles once falls again.

“Hey, why don’t we practice driving before we have to go pick up Taylor from the bus station?” You hear Jeremiah say.

Who the hell is Taylor?

-

“I can’t believe you would sleep in like that!” Your mom lectures you after pretty much everybody left the house. Jeremiah invited you to go witness “Belly’s terrible driving skills” but you mom quickly shot him down.

“I didn’t know—“ You start, uncomfortably sitting at the edge of her bed.

“Really? Because didn’t Jeremiah wake you up?”

“Well, yeah—“

“Jesus, Y/N. Why are you acting like this? I didn’t raise you—

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe because you’re forcing me to stay here when I can stay with Dad!” You interrupt.

Before your mom could even get a chance to go off at you, a knock on the door stops her. She exhales before opening the door.

Susannah stands there with a smile on her face, “Hey, I was wondering if I can take Y/N out for shopping? I need to get some stuff for tonights dinner, It would be a great time to get to know her better.”

Your mom stays quiet for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

You follow Susannah outside to her car, silent as you sat in the front seat. You put your seatbelt on before you realize that Susannah wasn’t making any move to put hers on.

“Y/N, look, I know how it must feel to be staying at some random strangers house. But, I’ve known your mom for a while. And she has her reasons, okay?” She tries to explain, staring at you with a look of empathy on her face.

You bite your tongue, trying to stop yourself from saying anything rude. You appreciated Susannah letting you stay here, she was nice, had amazing sons, well one of them at least, and she was an overall sweet person. It was just… you missed home. You missed your friends, you missed your dad, and it feels weird being here. You feel out of place, like an intruder. Everybody knows everybody but you.

“I just wanna go home.” You mumble, leaning your head against the car door.

She stays silent for a moment. “… Okay, how bout we make a deal?”

This perks your interest as you lift your head to look at her.

“If you still wanna go home by the end of this week, I’ll talk to your mom and see about flying you home.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait really? You’d do that?”

“Yes, but only if your mom is on board. Just try to stay on your mom’s good side until then?” She suggests, sending you a wink causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay, deal.” You say, trying your hardest not to smile from ear to ear.

She starts the car, “I actually need stuff for Belly’s birthday dinner tonight but we can stop for some pies and eat them in the car. Just don’t tell anybody.”

-

By the time you’re back at the house, you notice Jeremiah’s red jeep back in the driveway. You felt fat and full after splitting a pecan pie with Susannah and just wanted to sleep it off.

You helped get the groceries out of the car, setting them inside on the counter. Your mom was nowhere to be found, thank god so you didn’t have to continue the lecture from earlier… at least for now.

As you were about to grab the last bag, you spot Conrad and his girlfriend, whatever her name is, walking to the backyard.

Oh god were they about to make out in the pool or what? Why’d he even bring her? It’s Belly’s birthday and he just brought his girlfriend over like they weren’t arguing a few days ago? Pathetic.

“Do you need help with putting these away?” You offer Susannah once your back inside, she shoos you away, claiming you should go hang out with the rest of the kids.

You shoot her a appreciative smile, your arms sore from carrying all those bags as you went from store to store.

Opening the sliding door, the first people you notice are Conrad and his girlfriend sitting on the edge, and the next thing is a net with a volleyball flying over it.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re back!” You hear Belly shout, Conrad and his girlfriend both turn to look at you but you ignore them as you make your way closer to the pool.

“Hey.” You say. You finally notice the new face next to her, a dirty blonde in a teal bikini. And you definitely don't miss the dirty look she sends you.

She waits a few moments, hoping her friend in the bikini would introduce herself but she doesn’t make any effort, still looking at you like you were gum on the bottom of her shoe.

Belly nervously laughs, “Y/N, this is my best friend Taylor. Taylor, this is Y/N. You know the one I was telling you about on the phone?”

“Oh yeah.” Taylor says, forcing a smile your way.

What the hell was her problem?

“Join us! Steven can sit out—“ Jeremiah starts, throwing the ball up in the air but catching it.

“No, no, I never agreed to that!” Steven argues, Jeremiah spins around and guessing by the look on his face or something he said that you couldn’t hear Steven groans before giving in.

“Actually we were about to go to the beach, right Belly?” Taylor speaks.

“Uh, yeah.. Y/N do you want to come?” Belly asks, looking away from her friend to look at you.

Telling by the annoyed look on Taylors face and the way she’s been looking at you, you can tell she doesn’t want you there. Or anywhere around her for that matter.

“No thanks, I’m pretty tired from shopping.” You tried to joke, chuckling to yourself.

“How could you be tired if you slept in this morning?” Taylor quips, shooting you a glare. Belly turns around to shoot her one, causing Taylor to shrug.

“Haha, yeah…” You mumble, scratching your arm. Oh god, the end of the week couldn’t come any faster.

Belly gives you an empathic look, or you think she did, you were too busy staring at your feet.

You didn’t want to go back inside because you didn’t want to seem like coward but you also didn’t want to stay if you weren’t wanted.

Jeremiah was quick to notice your awkwardness, telling you that you could dip your legs into the water on his side and so that’s what you did. Sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling your legs in the water and most important of all, sitting far far away from Taylor.

Instead of Belly and Taylor going to the beach like Taylor said they would, they play a few more rounds of volleyball until Taylor hit Conrad’s girlfriend in the face causing her and Conrad to go inside.

And soon Steven left because his girlfriend called him, causing him to almost drop his phone in the water, and because it was just Jeremiah vs. Belly and Taylor they finally decided to go to the beach.

“Hey, y’know Belly doesn’t care you slept in right?” Jeremiah says, splashing water at you. He swims closer to you, pulling himself out of the pool to sit on the edge next to you.

You roll your eyes, “Her friend does.”

“Taylor? Yeah, she’s a little cray cray.” He says, motioning it with his finger.

You laugh, shaking your head. “How long is she staying?”

“Just a few days, then we’ll be Taylor free for the rest of summer.”

The rest of summer.

“You should get in.” He says, elbowing your side.

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He stays silent for a moment, “So?” He pushes you into the water, your body submerging into the cold water as you shoot up coughing.

You can hear him laughing, while you’re basically choking on the chlorine filled water. “You jerk! I didn’t want to get my clothes wet!”

“You can still take them off.” He suggests, watching as you slicked your hair back.

You shoot him a playful glare, “In your dreams.”

“Every dream since I’ve met you.”

You splash him with water, “You’re stupid.”

He stares at you for a moment before tackling you under water, pulling you back up with his arm around your waist. “What’d you say?”

You wipe your eyes, trying to shove him off you but no budge. Your guys’ faces were even closer, your breath hitched. What was gonna happen?

He made eye contact with you a few times, and the times he wasn’t doing that he was staring at your lips. He started leaning in, closer and closer to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You felt like you couldn’t even breathe.

Did you even want this?

And just as he was about to move closer you shoved him away, taking him by surprise.

He backs away quickly, eyes widening.

“S-sorry.. I just… I just don’t really know you.” You say, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, yeah, yeah I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t have to apologize.” He says, eyes still as round as saucers.

“Uhrm… yeah…” You mumble, crossing your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt cold even though you were used to the water.

What a way to kill a mood. Why’d you even do that, damnit.

He nods, placing his lips into a tight line. “I’m gonna…” He closes his mouth, pointing to the house while backing up.

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

You watch him turn around, pull himself out of the water and grab a towel before he quickly goes inside

Leaving you in the pool alone as you stared at the spot he was just at.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise

[norwegiankafka]

Nightmare [Joker, Fluff]

Synopsis: You woke up in the middle of the night because of nightmare. Little did you realize, you're not the only one woken up.

a/n 𖦹 joker fluff bc I saw not a lot of ppl doing this hehe. hope you like it!

tw & cw ✰ cursing.

Sweats starts beads your forehead. The air that surrounds you starts pressuring you, as if there is an invisible power that suck up all of the oxygen. Your ragged breathing and aircon sound is all you hear in the middle of the night. You huffs, mentally noting yourself to not watch horror movies prior to sleeping in the night. Duly noted.

You try looking at the clock, which fails, because the lights are off and there's barely a light coming from outside, neither inside. Joker sleeps soundly without a care in the world, faint snores could be heard. When you turn on your phone briefly, to check the time, he grunts a little bit in his sleep. Maybe the light from your phone displeased him, since he always sleeping in a near pitch black room. You reached your hand to rub his back repetitively, in order to lull him back to sleep. He responds by rubbing his disheveled blue-ish gray hair to your neck.

Your throat feels really dry, and you need to grab a glass of water, like, right now. But Joker, who obviously didn't know, latched himself better on your body. Personal body heater, heh. He starts pulling you onto his direction, trying to find a comfortable position in his sleep. And then he starts snoring softly, again.

You starts to lift Joker's hand. Damnit. Should've known better that his hand is heavy as fuck. Why is his hand are so heavy?

With all your willingness left in your body in the middle of the night, you are finally free from his hold and now are sitting in the bed, trying to figure way out of his room without using any lights.

Poor you, there's a bag that he often bring to competition, which you cannot see, in the pitch-black room. Your feet suddenly kicked the bag.

"Ow! What the fuck-" You yelled. Shit. He's awake now.

"Where d'you wanna go?" He mumbles groggily, not fully awake and still registering things that's happening.

"'M just gonna grab glass of water. Go back to sleep, Jo." You close the door as you finished your sentence.

Tiptoeing around his house, you grab a glass of water and drink them. Water never tastes as good as 3 am water, you think. Putting back your glass to the sink, you go back to his room.

Little did you know, Joker wasn't sleeping again after you left him to grab a glass of water. He just kinda lays there, eyes open staring at the ceiling with his hands under his head.

"You're back."

"Mhm." You hum for an answer.

You get under the covers, meeting his warm, soft skin under the duvet. He, absentmindedly reaching for your waist, putting his arms around it perfectly, as if it was perfectly sculptured for his arms. His arms only.

"You're having nightmares again, d'you?" Joker's voice breaks the silence. "Why don't you wake me up, hm?"

"Don' wanna disturb your sleep. You looks," You comb his hair out of his hair. Something that he'd never wanna do, but let you nevertheless. "so tired after the competition. I'm fine, really. Go sleep."

He grunts a little, letting out an annoyed sigh, (you know he didn't meant it) "Just let me take care of you next time, 'kay?"

He holds you flush upon his body, rubbing your back repeatedly. Just the way you always like it. You breathe slowly after the time passed, surrounded by his faint perfume scent and soap. You feel drowsier. By the time the clock hits 3 in the morning, you finally asleep, wrapped in his arms, snug and sound.

Joker, later kisses your forehead and temple slowly. "I just want you to know that I'm always here for you, whenever you need me, baby."

He dozes off, following you a little later.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller microfic band au pt3

heyyy pt3 is here yayyy

I haven’t rlly read it thru again and I’m feeling pretty tired today so if there’s a quality dip that’s why but also we have some nice Barty POV which I find easier to write sooo balances out ig

also we have some Marlene in this one (u can thank @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl because I wasn’t gonna put her in but she loves Marls [not that I don’t] to and yk she’s the boss so 🫡🫡🫡 Marlene is in the fic and I’m actually glad bc I love her part in this)

oh also Reg is autistic in this [in my mind] so when I mention him wearing headphones it’s bc he wears headphones on public transport/often in public/during gigs to help block noise <3

oh also all the skittles have matching nail polish and little tattoos on their wrists (idk if I actually mention it here but just so u have it in ur mind)

Tags for ppl that (I think?) wanted to be tagged <3 : @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @picklerab23 @lady-stardust-incarnate @always-reading @no-names-work @y0url0verb0y @2bluetwo85 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lulublack90 @nikholascrow (please please do tell me if you don’t want to be tagged bc idm and obviously won’t be upset but I just don’t want to tag ppl that don’t actually want to be tagged so I’m just sort of guessing by who commented last time so um yeah)

Link to previous part

link to part one

link to next part

(Cw: lil bit of homophobia in here sorry)

***

By the time the train arrived at their station both Barty and Evan had dozed off. Arms wrapping around each other, bodies curled into one another like a jigsaw puzzle. Evan didn’t wake up as gently as he fell asleep though because he was woken by Regulus kicking his seat aggressively. Once he finally opened his eyes he turned to face him. He was wearing his headphones, big and black originally but covered in splodges of spray paint from when Barty had offered to ‘customise‘ them for Regulus. He’d pushed them back though, now that the majority of people has filtered out of the little compartment.

“Hurry up and get your stuff.”

Regulus ordered before following Pandora and Dorcas who had already left.

Evan turned and tapped Barty gently to wake him up. Then when that didn’t work he shook him till he opened his eyes with a start. 

It took Barty a moment to realise where he was but even once he did he just grumbled.

“Ev don’t make me get up, please.”

He pouted, eyes wide and dilated in some kind of cheap attempt at cuteness.

“Come on you know you have to get up baby- Barty!”

Evan gaped, realising his mistake just too late. A slip of the tongue and he’d gone and fucked everything up.

“D’you just call me baby?”

A grin spread on Barty’s face and he poked Evan gently and laughed.

“You’ve been single too long Rosier.”

“You- you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad, baby?”

Barty winked, clicking his tongue as he got up and shuffled past Evan with a wicked smirk.

•••

Barty was going insane. 

Evan had called him baby. Baby. And fuck his reaction had been visceral. But like…in a good way? It made him want to bite down on something hard but that thing was the muscles on Evan’s arms. Or bruise something but that thing was Evan’s neck…with a hickey or two. 

Something about the way it had slipped out so naturally, so warmly. It just made Barty’s heart flutter. Made him want to grab Evan and shake the sense out of him enough to like Barty. Something along the lines of ‘kiss me, ruin me, dear God I’m begging you.’ Ah well, nothing you can’t really do about these kinds of situations except get on with it. Lying was something Barty had gotten very good at from a young age and not stopped since. Some might call it acting but those were the types of people who were just trying to convince themselves they were good and moral. Barty didn’t really care enough about that kind of stuff to bother. White lies this and how it contrasts with malicious lies that, like someone trying to section off a gradient in two. You can’t, it’s all the same monochrome blur in the end. 

Barty was lost in this little daydream when he heard Pandora roar.

“WHAT?!”

Now Pandora didn’t often roar, maybe laugh maniacally every now and then yes, but yell? Scream? That was never her type of thing. Save for some rare occasions that Barty could probably count on one hand. Pandora yelling meant it was time to stop daydreaming about Evan’s curls or Evan’s hands with their chipped green nail polish or Evan’s fucking tight t shirts. Yeah time to stop thinking about that and listen up. So he did.

“I do not intend to offend anyone by it.”

Riddle raised his hands up defensively with a cheap sleazy smile that immediately made Barty dislike him.

“I’m just saying that this venue prides itself on a distinct lack of…untoward behaviour. It’s not a massive deal, I think your lead and backup singers can use separate microphones for two nights of a six month tour. 

“What the fuck man?”

Barty stepped forward immediately hands curling into fists, Riddle was pretty short, he could definitely take him if that’s what it came to.

“Barty stop, that isn’t the right way to solve things. Come on let’s just- let’s come back later ok? See if we can talk to someone else, not this piece of shit.”

Dorcas spat out the last three words as she pulled Barty back to the group.

He was going to argue till he felt Evan put a hand on his shoulder, instead he just left Evan guide him away after the rest of the group.

“We’ll figure it out ok?”

“Fucking- Ev we can’t play there. They’re fucking homophobic.”

“Barty the O2 has been your dream since-“

“I DONT BLOODY CARE!”

“Barty shut the fuck up. I said we’ll talk about it and we will, we will figure it out but stop acting like a goddamn CHILD.”

Barty looked over at Evan who had his teeth bared, slightly wild look in his eyes. He was seething too, clearly. Just more mature than Barty.

“Ok, yeah.”

He breathed in.

“I’m sorry Ev.”

“Hey it’s alright. It’s just important the band shows a united front against this you know? We can’t split up or in fight because then, well then we all lose.”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right Rosie. But we will do something.”

“I promise you they’re not getting away with this.”

Evan nodded. He tossed a hand over Barty’s shoulder, pulling him in just a little bit closer as they walked. Barty wasn’t complaining. 

•••

“You don’t get it Marls, we can’t just not play the O2. We’d lose way too much money off it, probably too much to be able to continue with the rest of the tour. Plus venues will think we’re unreliable and might cancel or pull out. Riddle is such a fucking dick, he only told us when we went there for a tech practice literally today.”

“Fuck yeah that’s shitty.”

Marlene was sat next to Barty on the floor of his hotel room, helping him repaint his nails. The entire band had them matching, a bright toxic green, his had started to fade though. 

“What if you just…ignore them? Do it anyway?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like they can drag us off stage mid performance.”

“Not without exposing their homophobia.”

“Still…I wanna make a statement. Something big you know? Show them they can’t straight wash us.”

Marlene looked up at Barty, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I might have an idea then.”

•••

Evan was sat in an alcove in the hotel corridor watching Regulus patiently braid and unbraid Pandora’s hair on the sofa opposite him. It calmed them both down whenever they were stressed. And Barty and Marlene, locked up together in Barty’s hotel room. Both raging homosexuals dead set on never following rules talking amongst themselves just before the biggest gig of the band’s history? Yeah that was a reason to be stressed. That’s when he heard the tell tale clump of Barty’s docs down the corridor. And he was walking with purpose.

As soon as he came into view Evan noticed the way his eyebrows were knotted together yet his eyes were glimmering with excitement. Evan had no clue what Barty was going to say next but it wasn’t that.

“Marlene thinks I should kiss you.”

Barty announced and Evan dropped his jaw, staring at him agape.

“What?”

“And I agree with her.”

“What?”

***

OK HOPE U LIKED IT

xxx BYEEEE

pt4 probs gonna come soon bc I swear this fic has a life of its own

[chinomiko]

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

[vitzi9]

Pretty gifts

Joker X GN!Reader

TW/CW: reader is androgynous, murders, talking about kys, work in catering (it needs its own warning), reader curses a lot, mention of vomit, stalker, reader throws up, racism, Gotham is hell and fuck capitalism, blood, violence

tbh i'm a little sad bc nobody ever give their opinion on my works. I put another divider (like the red heart below) in the middle of the story, not really to separate as it's following directly but bc some people find my stories too long so it's like a checkpoint. So when you leave, you know where you were. (It's really long)

also the end is a little weird bc I have no idea if this fandom is still alive so, yeah :) if people are reading, I might continue it. Thing is some ppl find this Joker ugly so...

I hope you'll enjoy this. (19/02/2024) (17k)

You weren't weird by any mean, okay ? Life in Gotham is just really hard. You got harassed, robbed and assaulted more times than you can count. And each time by a new profile type ! Old, young or teen, it doesn't matter, everyone is desperate.

Some of your colleagues at work are prostituting themselves and you for sure considerate selling feet pictures.

That's how life is in Gotham.

But weird ? You stare at the angry man before you, unimpressed. You can't believe he called you weird as well as an incestuous result. You're neither of these. Fuck, how is weird and incestuous his first thought when insulting someone ? Like, he could've called you a fucker, a bitch... Anything !

Your aggressor, if you can even call him that after this, shows you his middle finger while walking background. Quickly though, he loses his balance and fall on the ground. Well, at least he didn't beat you up !

You already got assaulted for your money, which you don't even have, you got two jobs and barely reach the minimal wage. But at the end of the day they, well, stole the few you have, you know ? When you think about it, he strongly smelled like alcohol. That's probably why he failed his attempt.

Even stealing is death here. You never know who you're facing. Hell, just yesterday a guy was killed because he tried to assault some big chief of a mob. Someone with a clown face. TV says the man's limbs were still not all found.

Shit, getting killed by a clown must be mad humiliating too.

You sigh, trying to ease your tired traits by passing your hand on your face. At least the day is over, right ? Another day closer to death. You drag your suddenly much more heavier body on some few meters/yards more, silently praying that no one else will bother you.

Thankfully, your cries were heard. Pushing the old creaking door of the building, you rush to the mailbox. Never have you been comfortable staying long here. The door is only behind you and you don't know if someone is able to enter with bad intention.

Speaking of the devil...

No mail except for this weird card yet again. It's cardboard displaying a drawing of a joker, withdrawn from a poker package. It's certainly not the first time someone pull this kind of joke on you. Though, you have no idea who this is and it creeps you out a little. You turn the card to see if a message was left and sadly, (or not) you were right.

You've been trying to understand who this was for a long time now but in a big city like yours, with god knows who or what ? It's just impossible.

As always, you hate to think this because you don't want this creepy card to become part of your habit, a messy handwriting greets you in black ink.

"I'm everywhere in this city, no one can touch me yet some are fond of me."

You stopped school kind of early so your IQ is probably not high enough for you to understand that. Plus, you don't fucking want to.

You grab the card with you in order to throw it once at home and rush to the stairs (some says someone got killed in the elevator plus it's not working since months so you're not taking it anymore). Finally home. Your hallway still smells like piss and a deadly cold reign here (Nobody knows why). Two of the four bulb of the ceiling has burnt out and a faint static noise is resonating in the whole property.

This building is not even in a neighborhood that bad. But in Gotham, not that bad is still bad. Because bad is sleeping to the sound of gunshot and broken windows. While here, there's still these but not as often as in bad neighborhood. But you can add the moans hearable in the night in it as well.

Your building is really old though, which explains (partially) the bad state it's in.

Taking out the key off your pocket, you start to unlock the door. Unconsciously, your mind goes back to the card of the day. "I'm everywhere"... What's everywhere? There's air. But they specified 'in this city' so air might be too simple.

No one can touch me yet some are fond of me.

You can't touch air and you're not sure people are fond of it particularly. Like, air's fine. It's cool as fuck but are you fond of it ? No. Then what is it ?

You didn't even realize you were looking at the card again, your door wide open while standing in the middle of the hallway ridiculously. Slapping yourself mentally for being so careless, you enter and close the door and all your locks shut.

Some are fond of me, huh ?

In Gotham, what are people even fond of ? Misfortune you'd say. These fuckers love to see others suffer and even make sure they do by engaging in others people life.

But you don't know if that's really the answer. Damn, can't they just give you simple question? Or even better: stop giving you any ?

You drop your bag on the floor, slouching your shoulders and throwing yourself on the couch. Fuck, you hate your life. Why are you even here? You don't deserve this life. Nobody does !

Haphazardly moving your hand, you end up successfully grabbing the remote. You need to empty your mind, or have a background noise at least.

The screen lights up displaying you the newest information girl. The last man disappeared after he made the mistake of letting show his politic side. It's obvious everyone is corrupted here but the mystery in this story is ; who erased him ? It could be mob, politics themselves, everyone.

This city is lost.

The woman is talking about the incessant inflation and how numerous factories and business saw themselves forced to close for good. You just hope your business won't shut down, you need money. What if it does close, though ? You were already sweating trying to live with two jobs, but what if you end up jobless ?

It'll be impossible for you to pay anything. To keep your apartment. To eat. What are you supposed to do if this happens ? You already thought about that and all of your long reflection session always end up on one conclusion: kill yourself.

Because there's no way you're living without job in Gotham while being in the streets. You would have left the city if you had money or even family out there but it's not the case. So yeah, killing yourself that is.

Sure it looks a little extreme but isn't earth overpopulated anyway ?

It's better than being killed. At least, you choose your death ! But you're gonna hope this still won't happen. Up to now, your job is yours so taking such drastic measures won't be necessary. And you hope it'll stay this way.

Damn, you're depressed again. You drown out your worries by hiding your face in your couch's pillow. Man, what capitalism is doing to one.

You switch the channel without looking where your fingers pressed, this time a man is talking. He's saying something about a criminal and quoting every one of his crime. It was going crescendo, at first robbery, assault and burglary but just next to all of that was terrorism and mass murder.

You want to turn your head and watch the profile of this man but are too weak to move. So you simply listen closely to the man voice to get answers.

"Yes, he's a dangerous criminal and he's in town. He already break free from Arkham asylum twice now. If one of you see this man; do not engage, hide and call the police immediately. He is incredibly unstable and may not be alone. If you think you can win against him, you're wrong. He's a manipulative man and a mastermind. If you're seen by him, you better start to pray. Ends the man on a serious tone. Man, this guy knows how to reassure people...

-Indeed, a true monster. But please do not scare our audience. Batman was able to capture him twice, we'll be fine. The man chuckles but does not sound really honest. To answer all the questions you've been a lot to send us, we'll have the pleasure of meeting mister Harvey Dent here, chief of the police department to answer your worries. Harvey Dent ?"

And the voice switched to the other man. You like Harvey Dent. You like to think he's the only man in Gotham who's not corrupted. He's helping the citizens. Unlike that Wayne man. This guy could single-handedly resolve the poverty problem, but does he do it ? Of course not. He's rich after all, why should he care for bum like you ?

Harvey Dent is talking but you're not listening. All you know is that he's trying to ease the population. The men on TV are always saying the same things: empty promises. How the police is already taking care of the problem, that it'll be better soon. Like the police isn't already too fucking busy harassing the wrong people.

Harvey Dent is your last hope. The only man who can change things.

You deeply hope his promises aren't as empty as the other man before him. You turn off the TV and relax in the silence of your flat for a moment, breathing in the perfume impregnated in your couch.

There's screams outside. You can't tell if it's the neighbors or someone outside. Either way, you stand up feeling your eyelids getting heavier by each passing second.

But before leaving to your room, you stop in front of your window and stare outside for a moment. It's nighttime now. The city won't go to sleep, oh no, it's just waking up. The police can already be heard in the distance with its loud sirens. This city really is chaotic. It's just everywhere, you can't escape it. Touching it isn't even possible, you can't grasp it, nor resolve it completely; it's in the air. You can't fight against it. Nobody fights against it.

Fuck, it's like they're fond of it, here.

Chaos, it's scary when you think about it. Because you can't guess what's going to happen. There was a time when you thought that anarchists could be right but if anarchy looks like this, you don't want it anymore. You just want some peace and respect. But it seems too much to ask for Gotham.

You fucking hate chaos.

The next morning, your limbs were so sore you almost didn't make it on time to work. Your boss reprimanded you about your delay, pressuring you by recalling you the time one of your colleagues got fired for it. You were only late of something like one or two minutes but it didn't matter to him.

He only wanted to feel superior. He didn't even need real reasons to yell at you.

The restaurant wasn't packed. Only the usual rich families wanting to spend a pleasant day. They were here to eat breakfast. You try not to think too much about the fact that one single of their jewelry is equal to your salary.

The streets were alive; people running, cars honking. Your colleague hitting your shoulder to bring you back to earth, everything is normal.

"You think you can ask Mike to make another one ? she asks you with a sweet voice. The kid threw a tantrum. It's not salted enough and he hates sausages.

You lift up your eyes towards the crying kid in the back. Cold eyes stuck to his face. You're sure he specifically asked for sausage. You're the one who wrote down his order. And the salt ? Can't he just fucking put some himself?

-Don't question it. They're regulars. Plus, I don't think having beef with a kid is good for our reputation." Tells you your friend after seeing the death look you were giving him.

So you take the plate that looked absolutely perfect and delectable to bring it to Mike. Mike is an old man once passionate about cooking. Now he's forty three and stuck cooking eggs and toast to some crying kids.

"No fucking sausage and more salt please. you say, throwing the plate on the counter in a loud clatter. The man laughs at your anger and don't even need to ask to understand. 'Got it boss !' is your answer.

You lay your weight on the counter, back meeting the freezing temperature of it. Different smells invade your senses; fresh bread, warm oil and eggs. Well, lot of different smells were here as well but they're the one that really stuck out to you.

"You were late this morning right ? Did the client touched their plate ? You can eat it otherwise, it looks fine.

-Because it is, it was made by the best cook of Gotham after all.

The man laughs, mimicking someone blushing by putting his hands on his cheeks. He tells you that you're lying and that you're saying that to flatter him only. Mike had buzzed his hair a few months ago but they were back already; small rough curls mocking him.

You sigh and look back at the plate, it did look really fine. The kid hadn't even touched it ! The eggs and the bread were intact, left in the same state it was neatly put in earlier.

You spend your sweet time talking with Mike before your boss comes in infuriated, ordering you to come back at the front. And you're forced to do so. Grabbing a water jug on your way and putting on a fake smile, you walk towards a new family sitting so straight your back hurts just looking at them.

All of them laid down their menu and are waiting. You arrive, apologizing for the wait. 'Have you decided ?' you ask while putting the water on the table. The man takes the menu and start listing his orders without a smile nor even a look in your direction. The woman is busy keeping her children calm and asking them to calm down. The other tables are side-eyeing her while the husband doesn't even acknowledge his wife.

"Noted, you smile and turn your head to stare at the woman for her to start ordering.

She smiles awkwardly, and tells you her kids orders before ordering for herself. You thank them, "I'll be right back." and you leave to the kitchen. You sigh, scotch the orders on the wall, grabs the plate left for you to take and head back to the crying kid from earlier. The demon who ordered fucking sausage before saying he hated them.

But as soon as you place the plate before him with a smile, the kid slams his fists on the table resulting in his glass of water to splash on you and break on the floor. The mother gasps while the dad gives a slap in his son's head without even you registering the whole situation. Your clothes are completely soaked, you want to say something but his mother is sending daggers at you with her eyes and you know not to mess with this stupid fucking family.

Did he did it on purpose ? Yes. Are you gonna say something ? No.

"It's okay, I love children." you don't.

And you leave. Deeply humiliated. But you can't do anything. Because you're no one compared to them, they're gonna win. Always. Your friend asks if you're okay, you shrug. She's unable to question you further as she has to continue working. You head to the back in search of a broom.

The small closet is all the way behind the kitchen and you're already tired just thinking about it. Once you're in, you frenetically search for your item only for a shelf to fall apart behind you and destroy itself on the ground. You bite your lower lip with all your strength to retain you from crying and cursing the whole world.

It's okay, it's just a shelf. It's okay, you try to think but it's hard when it's not even noon and too much shit already happened to you.

You crouch down and start gathering everything you can when your eyes falls upon another one of these poker card. You frown and take it in your hands, examining it deeply. Uh, wow, okay. It's a little weird. You just happen to receive these daily in your mailbox and suddenly there's one here. Okay, totally normal.

You stand up, looking around you for an answer, trying to see if a camera is here somewhere. But nothing. So you turn the card to read the new message: You need one to live, I often rip it apart and yours is mine to steal. A heart ? you immediately think. You definitely need one to live and the sentence 'steal your heart' is kinda famous. But rip it apart ? Is it, like, a metaphor ? Glancing back quickly, you notice a small note left in the bottom right corner of the card. It reads: what a shitty shelf.

You laugh nervously, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What the actual fuck ? it's not even funny, what the hell ? Sorry for the fucking shelf ? They knew this was going to happen ? You definitely have to talk to someone.

You pass your hand on your face, rubbing it strongly as if to wake you up from a bad dream. Then you take the broom and head back.

Rushing to the kitchen, you accidentally pushes someone in your haste. You see Mike from afar and don't even need to approach him that you yell your question for everyone to hear:

"Mike, do you happen to play poker ?" the man faces you, his confused expression told it all, he didn't. And from the other's cook faces, they probably all thought that you were crazy. None of them looking guilty. But you'll investigate that later.

Not wasting any seconds, you almost run to the main room to find your friend. Luckily for you, she's cleaning glasses at the bar.

"Hey, is it yours ?" you're a little out of breath when showing her the joker card. Your friend simply shakes her head. When you asked her if she knew if one of your colleagues was playing poker, she shrugged and told you she didn't know with an apologetic smile.

"Why ? she asks.

-It's complicated." you say.

It can't be from the same person, right ? If it is anyway, that probably means one of your colleagues is the one putting these at your place. Which is a terrifying idea because you sure never gave your address to anyone here. Trying to see the bright side of it all, that means that you may know your 'joker'. And if that's the case, there's a way for you to stop them. It's better than the cards coming from a total stranger, because you can't act against them. You'll probably leave some clues at work to see and trap your joker.

The rest of the day was terribly hard. You were dying from the inside. Your tummy was growling like a beast; you did not have the time to eat. As you're juggling between two jobs, your boss thought that he had to exploit you as much as he could before you left. Because you're joining the bar, your second working place, at two pm.

"You're gonna leave in the middle of the day, when most people are coming. I'm losing money here, you see ?" he had said to you that day. Yeah, he does not give you any breaks because to him, you don't need one as you leave earlier. Of course you tried to negotiate and he was agreeing with you, on the condition that he pays you less.

"Mike, I'm leaving. you tell him, taking off your apron. Have a nice day, say hi to your kids for me." he smiles warmly to you, wave and you're out of the room in a quarter of seconds. You already bid goodbye to your friend so all you had to do now was to leave.

Putting on your jacket, your thoughts can't stop but think back about this other card you found. Yours is mine to steal. In what sense ? You could've thought it was some creepy flirting but it's just too much. You found these at home, at work. Everywhere. Are they going to rip your heart apart, too ? Are these threats ?

Hopping in the bus, you try to stay away from Gotham's crackhead as much as possible but it's hard when they're drunk and staring at you like they want to beat the shit out of you.

Fortunately, your stop arrives and you hurry to get out. It's 2:36 PM (14:36), the bar is not open yet but cleaning and organizing everything is part of your contract.

It's at five pm (17h) that you open the bar, standing behind your counter and waiting patiently for clients to arrive. You're happy Sean is here. He's a big man of 2m3 (~6'8), practices combat sport and knows how to handle different weapons. In a neighborhood like this, you're more than grateful to have him.

He's also the son of the owner. So it's really just the two of you here. The first persons starts entering the place and it quickly fills up entirely. It's quite a famous area, cops never comes here as mobs are doing their own laws. Sean puts on some background music you can't even hear anymore over the loud voices of the men laughing cavernously.

You're busy serving people's drinks. Moving as fast as you could but it being hard when your thoughts are plagued by cards and your mind is not here. Who's this joker man ?

The street lamp are all finally on, meaning it was past seven already. You didn't even see time pass, the incessant flirting and bickering of the men here enough to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.

"Thanks baby." says a young man when you give him his beer. He has a really bad scar going from his forehead to his lower lip. It's no surprise, you saw men with less limbs, other talking unknowns languages, some with sight or hearing completely lost. Sometimes normal people like you would come, women even but more rarely as the men here were true animals.

You wonder what type of people there is with you tonight. You're not naive enough to think all of them are innocent, in fact, you're sure 85% of your client here are criminals. This bar is situated apart from the city, in a corner more secluded with abandoned looking buildings and scary dark alleys you certainly don't want to visit at night, or even at day for that matter.

This place sucks.

Honestly, with your cards problem, you even considered engaging a spy to see who put these creepy notes in your mailbox. But two things prevented you to do so; first, you do not want to do business with criminals, second; there was a chance that your joker was one of your client.

Some of your clients here probably have mental illness as well, worsening their state. And maybe someone fixated on you and decided to follow you home. It'd be really awkward to engage a man to scare your joker away, only for him to be the same person you're trying to avoid.

But now this idea starts to disappear. You found a card at work after all, your boss is not stupid enough to let anyone break in. So the criminal track wasn't the one. It's one of your colleagues. There's just no way one of the bar's client could have followed you home and at the restaurant.

But on the other hand, it's difficult to see one of your colleagues following you home too. Because after working at the restaurant, you're not heading home right away. You're working here. Is it possible they waited outside until you finished ?

"A whisky for me." is what tears you away from your misery.

You do not look up, instead turning your back to him and reaching the shelves to search for the bottle. You grab a glass, throwing ice cubes in it and pouring the harsh liquid in. You then slide it to him, he nods and drink a first long gulp.

You follow his arm to his face before blocking on it. It's a man with a skin so pale it's getting worrying. His eye bag are terribly dark that you thought he had put black eye-shadow on them. And for a second, you truly thought it was the case. He had really bad scars going from each corner of his lips up to his cheeks, like a badly drawn smile. In the small crevices of his scarred skin, there was faint white and red paint, or make-up that did not left during shower. Is he like, a mime or a clown ? He looks like he haven't showered for a while, no judgements or anything, but his green hair are greasy.

He continues to savor his drink quietly while you're here, astonished by such weird scars. You saw scars, a lot of them. But they all looked accidental, caused by self defense or anything. But his clearly looked volunteer. You could clearly see that the goal was to create some sick form of smile, whether it is successful or not. What the hell happened to this guy ? Has he been tortured ? Did he make these to himself ?

'You got some nasty scars' you want to say. But the wicked grin he gives you is enough to make you gulp and smile awkwardly. Of course he saw you looking at him, you did not move an inch/millimeters. And he does not look like the type of guy to be nice.

"D'you like them ?

-Sorry ? you blinked.

-My scars. Do you like them ?

-Uh, yeah, yeah.

Fucking creepy. What the hell ? What did he do to have those ? Why is he even asking you this ? Why is he looking at you like that ?

-Do you want to know how I got them ?

-No." you answer at the mere second he ended his question, by pure fear he was going to destroy you. Or try to recreate those scars on you. Hey, you never know.

The man grins and chuckles at the quickness of your answer and stops talking for a while. Did you just escape death ? You think so.

He stopped drinking, though. You try to look busy but you're just organizing and disorganizing things on loop. Sean is having the time of his life chatting with the clients towards the tables area. But you, you're stuck behind the counter. You can't even count the times you got your ass slapped or got whistled. Plus, some of these guys often try to threaten you with knifes to make you give them free drinks.

It could've work if Sean wasn't here.

But it's comical in a sense. The morning, you're busy being the little dog, the little slave of these stuck rich people crying when their plate arrives one minute late, with prices on the menu so high it's clearly a scam for some eggs and bacon. With a ground so perfectly clean you could lick it.

And at night, you're here. Surrounded by criminals, drunkards and God knows who. With bad music taste rumbling in the background and place so dirty you could throw up and not even see it through the trash lingering on the ground. Well, in your defense, because you're the one cleaning, it was clean before. But everyone arrives with their disgusting shoes or bleeding and then they spill their drinks, and they fight and, yeah. At the end of the day, this place is a mess.

Your back is still facing the mime guy but you know he's staring at you. You know it because you can't stop shuddering. Your works are sure keeping you in touch with reality at least, you've seen both extreme.

"What's your name ?" You face him, afraid to offend this weirdo.

Telling him your name out of all the people ? Never. Smiling the best you can, you tell him your coworker name from the restaurant. He grins like a Cheshire cat, his smile accentuated by his prominent scars, nodding. You know better than to ask him back his name, he's probably, surely, a criminal. You don't have a death wish at the moment. You usually don't like to lie but this job at the bar taught you better.

-You know, he starts again and you pray he does not start to harass you with questions, he licks his lower lip before continuing. There's one thing I truly hate in this world. He pauses. You wanna know what ?

-Tell me. You say reluctantly, not wanting to anger him.

He lays one of his elbows on the counter, raising a brow and looking around him as if going to tell you a secret he wants no one else but you to know. Then, he looks at you again, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

-Liars.

Oh.

-They're such... he squints his eyes, moving his hand in the air to the flow of his thoughts. Vicious, little bitch, you know ? If we want to change things, he licks his lips, they're the first people that have to go. Don't you think ?

-Yes, I'm with you on that. you hurry to answer, nodding frenetically, feeling your blood run cold and a sweat cross your spine. Myself I really can't stand lying, you know ? Liars are really bad, they're manipulative and all. you were just trying to save your ass at this point. You received a lot of threats in your life, but this man right here ? There was something deeply wrong with him. He was fucking traumatizing you. You did not want to mess with him.

The only thing plaguing your thoughts is; does he know ? Does he know you lied about your name ? Because he specifically asked this question right after you presented yourself. Does he know ? No, no he doesn't. How is he supposed to know you ? You don't even have any name tag on.

The man chuckles deeply before you, licking very briefly his lips again; is that a tic ?

-What's his name ? he asks, looking straight to Sean, as if judging his soul. Does he have to stare at people like he wants to kill them all the time ?

Now you understand. He scared the shit out of you to ensure you wouldn't be lying to him. And now he's testing you. Why, you don't know. But you answer honestly this time. He smiles mischievously. Maybe that wasn't even his plan, maybe he's just deeply weird and unsettling. Maybe he doesn't even know you ever lied to him. Maybe you see things where there's none.

If there's one thing Gotham has taught you, it's to be wary of everyone.

-Are you fucking him ? he asks again, still looking at Sean laughing with the others.

-Why ? this thought never even crossed your mind before. Why would you fuck Sean ? He's nice, he's good looking but, you don't know, you wouldn't fuck him. You just, don't want to ? He's a friend.

-He's quite the tall guy. Are you fucking him ? he insists, ignoring completely your question.

Wow, that is getting incredibly uncomfortable and personal. You know you're supposed to entertain them and all but damn, this guy is killing you. You throw a glance in Sean's direction, hoping to catch his attention so he could help you but he's busy laughing with other clients.

-Why're looking at him ? I'm the one talking.

-I don't think this is appropriate, Sir. It's quite the personal questions you're asking me here. you laugh nervously, hoping to relax the mood but the man before you doesn't even react. Can I maybe offer you another drink ? It'll help...

-You got something to hide ? he licks his lips.

What. The. Fuck.

-I have to stay mysterious in order for you to come back, right ? you do not want this weirdo to come back, but that's the default sentence you usually say to avoid answering intimate questions.

But the make-up man does not insist, he gives you a cheeky grin.

-You want me to come back ? How flattering.

Most of the time, what you implies when saying this is that you want them to come back to consume more, so you have more money because you're kinda the bartender of this place. But this guy just plainly wants to fuck you up. Where's Sean when you need him the most ?

It's like no one around you is seeing you. They're all drinking their sadness, trauma, day away, not caring that a creepy guy is keeping you in his weird conversation you clearly do not want to participate in.

-Do you want to play a game with me ?

-I'm... Quite busy, actually. So...

But he knows you, now. He knows you're a bad little liar. Listening to you is now optional to him; he clearly doesn't care. The man stands up and you start to get scared. What is he going to do ? Is he going to hurt you ? Your hand is holding firmly the bat under the counter, fingers shaking with adrenaline. You never used a weapon before, less against someone. You never hurt someone, intentionally at least.

Sean, move your ass over here, now.

The man grins, eyes trailing your arms. He knows you're hiding something under this counter, but can he blame you ? You're surrounded by criminals, he's one himself ! It's impossible to know what to expect. Honestly, you're ready to scream to get attention and get helped. Even if there's high possibilities for a general fighting to start resulting in this poor bar to be destroyed.

But the man does not try to hurt you, he smiles, put his hands in his pocket and you now realize how well he's dressed for someone like him. A nice and well maintained purple suit.

"It makes me live and follow you at dark, keeps me up at night and makes you fall apart."

No...

-Who am I ?" He ends slowly, torturing you.

Your shoulders slouched down, tension leaving your hand on the bat. Your body become a big, useless puddle. Eyes as big as owl ones.

"I-I don't want to play. Your stutter had gave away your uneasy feeling, you step back, eyeing this man from head to toe.

You've come to despise those damn riddles. You don't want to hear more of them.

-But this one's so simple sweetheart. He mocks you. It starts with a pretty little O and ends with a N. I'm sure you'll find out.

You shake your head slowly; no, it's not simple, no, you don't want to find out, no, you don't fucking want to listen to him. But he simply chuckles, relatively amused by such a big reaction. Well, with that kind of huge revelation, you can't quite control yourself.

He's rummaging through his pocket, heart almost leaving you. What is he searching for ? A weapon ? What is he thinking ? But against all odds, the joker man takes out something so small you can't even see it behind his palm. You know he's doing it on purpose, hiding it from you to destroy you more, to see the look of surprise, fear or shock, or... Whatever, on your face.

-That's my business card, as a little... Reminder." You deeply doubt someone like him own any business, less business card. So what is he going to give you ?

He lays gently his hand on the counter right before you, not letting you see what he was hiding until he removed completely his hand, confirming your theory of him hiding it on purpose. You'd recognize them anytime. Your heart is beating faster, so fast you're scared it might explode. Nothing is written on the side you're staring at, you grab the cardboard, praying that it's just a crazy coincidence even if the drawing of the joker smiling stupidly on the card is taunting you.

But when you turn the card, the answer is given to you. For the first time since you've started to receive these.

-Obsession." you sigh, breath getting stuck in your throat. You were petrified. "You're... You're the joker man." you say in a shaky voice. Was it finally him ? Answers, you needed answers. But when you looked up, the man had disappeared. Leaving you with nothing but deep fear.

Silent tears slide on your cheeks, you bring your hand to your mouth in order to hide your muffles. Looking back at the card, you feel your legs give up under you when your real name is written in bold black letters in a bottom corner. Bile is rushing to your throat.

It's him. He's the one sending you these.

But you don't know him. You don't fucking know this man. And he's a criminal. You're fucked. Smiling like a madman, you start to laugh nervously, not realizing the situation. It's a joke, right ? You cough, progressively choking on your saliva. You bite your lower lip so hard it starts bleeding. You pray, you pray so hard this man isn't your stalker but you're lying to yourself. It's literally the worst case scenario that could happen.

You've never seen this man in your entire fucking life. Where does he even come from ? Why you ? Why him ? With his fucking creepy scars and fucking riddles. He knows your address ! Your name ! What else does he know ?

"You okay there ?" You nod without even looking at the person talking to you. You choke out a quick answer before rushing to the back towards the private toilet.

Immediately collapsing to the ground, you throw up everything you had in you, which wasn't a lot to begin with. You barely even ate anything. But you can't stop. You empty yourself, only vomiting water.

Sean finally comes get you, he rubs your back and help you get up. "What happened ?" He asks you.

"I don't fucking know." Is the only thing you can muster.

What you do know however, is that you're scared to go home.

"Are you heading home tonight ?" You ask him, voice hoarse. "Well, yeah" is his answer. So you asked him, begged him to come with you. Because you were horrified by the mere idea of going home alone. Maybe he would be here.

"You can come to mine if ya want." he offers. And you think that the guy from yesterday probably was right, you were weird. Why aren't you going to the cops, after all ? Probably because they'll think you're lying, that you're insane. A joker ? Harassing you with riddles ? You'll end up in a asylum in no time.

But wouldn't you be safer in a asylum ?

When Sean and you closed the bar, it was already well past one am. You didn't had the strength to redo this all over again tomorrow. But Sean was of good company, cheering you up and trying to ease your mind. Multiples times he tried to ask what was wrong, but he guessed it alone. "Was it that weird customer in purple ? The one with the suit ? I saw him lingering a really long time at the counter." You shrugged when he said that, completely worn out. What could he even do against him anyway ? The Joker man wasn't known to any of you. It was a lost cause.

Chatting with your friends wasn't even crossing your mind, you were terrified. The long walk to his apartment was as quiet as a church. What the fuck were you going to do now ? You were dead, yes, you were just dead at this point. What can you even do against some psycho following you around ? Fight back ? Yeah, if you have a death wish. You have to get out of this city, there's no other plan. But how ? And to go where ?

"We're here." says Sean. You've never been to his apartment's before, and to be honest, you would have preferred for it to happen in other circumstances. Trying to escape a criminal wasn't in this year plan.

Before you stood a tumbledown grey building, not much different from yours in reality. After all, Sean's not that rich, he's payed like you and live with his dad's payment. Though, you're pleasantly surprised to see the coziness of his place.

Warm lights were turned on, his sofa looked quite mellow and the general smell of the apartment was lovely. Not that you're judging him, but you wouldn't have thought he was such a clean guy. Because he's like, well, some kind of mafia man. So, yeah, he often smells like sweat and dirt himself, it's a surprise his place is so neat. Sure, it's damaged by humidity then and there, there's cracks in the walls but so do yours. The paint is peeling in some areas as well, you're used to it enough to not notice it. You take off your shoes, but keep your jacket. Probably in search of a safe feeling, maybe by fear of being vulnerable.

"You can sit on the couch, I'll order something.

You don't even have the will to eat right now, the ugly feeling everything entering your body might be threw back out instantly bothering you too much. However, you did sit on the couch. It smelt like him; you hated it. You were violating his property, his intimacy. You shouldn't be here.

But do you really have a choice ?

Sean is talking in the background, on the phone, yet, not a single word is understood by you. It's like he's speaking a whole new language. The red flowers on his TV stand keeps reminding you of the joker's card and his damn hat.

He hung up, that you heard, and left for another room. You hate to bother him, he probably only wanted to go home and sleep after a hard day but you messed up his plans. Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV to empty your mind. You search for series, documentary or cartoons, only to be disappointed at the sight of obnoxious ads.

You end up watching the news, it being the sole channel not drowned in ads. A woman is speaking in a professional neutral voice, wearing a white shirt. She talks about the inflation killing our country before going onto her next subject; the outgrowing insecurity. The two preoccupation of the government, or at least, what they want you all to think about.

From what she says, a hold-up happened in a bank yesterday, in plain sight. (Why do they talk about it now, you don't now.) The building stank laughing gas. Only one man declares having seen the main suspect. Her chair slides to the side, leaving space for the video to appear and for the victim to testify; "Green disgusting hair and some fucked up clown make-up. That's the only thing I saw. He has no value, I'm telling you, criminals used to believe in things ! He has no respect for anyone, he killed his own team ! He's gonna come back for me, I'm sure of..." and he's erased from the screen at his outburst, for everyone to forget his trauma.

Did he say clown ?

"Indeed, the woman vigorously resumes, a faint smile on, was she laughing at the victim ? green hair and clown make-up is on brand today as everyone only talks about this mysterious criminal. After disappearing for months, the troublemaker is back in town and seems unstoppable. But has he truly ever gone away ?

It's not the same man, right ? No, no of course not. If he's a famous criminal, he has better things to do than harass insignificant useless civilians like you with stupid riddles. He robbed a bank ! Why would he even look in your direction? Fuck, what if he thinks you have some kind information? What if he think you're related to a criminal ? What if you are ?

-He calls himself Joker, always wears his clown make up and has a habit of wandering at night." The woman straightens her posture and clasps her hands together. "After yesterday's fiasco, the famous criminal already perpetrated his next attack. Earlier, at noon, the biggest hospital of the city was targeted. Cops were able to evacuate everyone urgently. Gotham is in shamble, people are afraid and angry. The police is trying to calm the crowds, in vain." Images are shown behind her of people running, yelling, stretchers evacuating and flashing cops car during her speech.

She continues talking but you stopped listening when finally a picture of the Joker was displayed on the screen, his face horrifyingly reminding you something. Too many information are going to your brain in so little time. You try to rationalize everything but it's hard when your mind is too tired to cooperate.

He's called the Joker. And you happen to receive joker cards. He wears make up. The man at the bar looked like he did. Hyperventilating is the only thing seemingly still possible from your body. You stand up, inking, sinking, learning, engraving his face to memory.

Two big scars, both going from each corner of his mouth to his cheeks.

Like a badly drawn smile.

"Sean !" you call. Your friend runs out of the bathroom, disheveled, shirt loose and no pants, only in underwear. He rushed out, scared something had happened. Your shaking pointer aim at the TV screen, at the face of the man on it. "It's him. He was at the bar."

When Sean looks at the man, a chill runs down his spine. He understands what might have happened earlier. He could see the purple suit the man had on on the picture, which was the exact same one he saw at the bar. Fuck, it is the same man. He knows the Joker, hell, everyone knows him here.

And that's bad news.

He's everywhere in everyone business. He has no sense of loyalty whatsoever, killing even his best allies and no one has the slightest clue what he wants. At the bar, he probably scared the shit out of you, he probably threatened you, too. Why, it's impossible to know. He's quite the unpredictable.

-Don't worry, he says, he probably forgot about you already. He's a scary man, likes to shock people a little. He always attack for a reason and you're not a criminal, so you're good."

But you couldn't believe it. He does not have all the information. He doesn't know about the tons of cards you received until now. Eyes completely stuck to the screen, you observe the face before you, knowing you probably wouldn't be able to escape him.

Somehow, this emission confirmed to you that he was real, that you weren't dreaming. And that you really were in it deeply.

Sean insists you shower to relax a little bit, you're holding onto the remote for dear life, nails digging in your palm. When in the bathroom, your eyes automatically gravitates towards the mirror, discovering your new face scarred by sleepless nights and cries. You're almost scared of your reflection. Sighing, your hands find themselves in your pockets alone but you're startled by the coldness they are greeted with. What have you in your pocket that is freezing like that ?

Your unease comes back in a rush when you take out another one of these cards from your jacket. Are you for real going crazy ? What is going on ? When did this get here ? How did it get here ? It's your damn jacket ! You had it in the work closet all day !

You're tired and doing this little fucked up game is not doing any good. A greasy almost wiped red is the first thing you see, his lips, you guess. He wears some kind of paint as lip stick, he fucking kissed the card, creepy bastard.

Turning the stiff paper, your eyes meet once again one of these painful riddle.

"I'm everywhere, you can't escape me and I'm coming for you. Who am I ?" tears slide quietly on your cheeks, the only sane reaction your emotionless state can give. You're not even moving, eyes staying fixated on the card; the tears are just physical. Body exhausted from it all. What is this now ? You know he's not talking about an object anymore, he's talking about himself. It's not riddles, it's threats. He's coming for you, what is he going to do ? Kill you ? Torture you, or worse ?

The shower did nothing to ease your nerves, you've never been so tensed in your life. What could you even do against this man ?

When Sean called you to eat, you let him know you weren't feeling the slightest hunger. He said nothing, simply keeping a plate for you on the kitchen counter.

You did not even blink an eye that night, paranoid at the slightest noise, a knife slept cautiously under your cushion. The windows and doors were completely shut and you would have loved to do the very same thing to your brain. You fell asleep, eventually, when you should have been up.

Sean was still asleep when you awoke the next day. You were late, and terribly so, the clicking clock on the wall warning you. It was already way past nine. You don't like to leave his house without even thanking him for his hospitality once again. But you'll see him tonight, at the bar. You'll probably have to quit, though. Not yet, as you have to secure another job. You can't risk being here without money, after all. Joker knows where you work at, no way you're staying more than necessary. But... he has to know about your restaurant job too, somehow.

You had a card in the closet, with his stupid shelf trap, after all.

You're safer there, maybe. It's quite the chic area. There's camera, people. Socialites are here, nobody attacks socialites. Usually, at least. Doubts subsists, the journalist on the TV affirmed the Joker attacked in the middle of the day, in plain sight. Would he attack the rich ? They're untouchable, their lawyer always know what to do and they know everyone. You can't kill a famous advocate, right ? It's like attacking the mayor. Remembering his face, you keep the unsettling impression he could kill anyone.

Fuck.

You take a piece of paper, write a few words on it, scotch it on the fridge and leave, dashing outside to not worsen your lateness. You were dead, oh you were so dead. Late couldn't even describe your situation by now. You boss was going to kill you, de-materialize you and send you in another world.

You ran until your legs couldn't support you anymore, people were side-eyeing you in the streets. Certainly thinking of you as some kind of thief or at the very least a criminal of some sort.

Jumping in the nearest bus, your legs being too weak to support you anymore, you finally arrive at your workplace ten minutes later. It was quarter to ten.

You're breathless, rushing once again to the rear of the restaurant. You push the back door open but to your surprise, it won't budge. What ? The guys never lock the door that early in the morning, they know you'll arrive, eventually. You knock a few times, knowing you had the key anyway but if someone was passing by inside, it would be quicker.

You don't have to wait that long as your boss himself is the one opening it for you, as if waiting beside it until your entry. He probably was. He crosses his arms on his chest, eyes glaring holes in you. Damn, you'll have to fight with him, again. You promised him you wouldn't be late anymore, he will never trust you again.

Well, it's not like he trusted you much before to begin with.

"Listen, I'm terribly sorry I'm late but... he scoffs.

-As If that was the only problem ! The man tightens his jaw, talking between his teeth. He approaches his head to yours, almost colliding your forehead together; he talks lowly, scared to be heard. You know damn well what's wrong.

Wow, okay. You were not expecting his reaction to be that dramatic. You're just (incredibly) late. It's not new. What's gotten into him ? You squint your eyes, at a loss of words.

-I was just... You start, ready to recite him once again your preposterous apologies.

-I don't give a fuck about you being late, he cracks, get out of here now ! You are not to put a single of your foot in this restaurant anymore ! You're gonna scare my customers ! In the process, a postilion left its house to attack your cheek. You cringe, immediately wiping it with your sleeve, shuddering in disgust.

-What ?

-What, what, he mimics you with a grimace and a weird voice, Get out of here ! He articulates each words slowly as if you were a foreigner, except his tone was harsh and firm. Haven't you seen the news ? If they hear a criminal is working here, I'm screwed.

-A criminal ? But I'm not... I'm, what the hell ? I'm not a criminal Tony.

-Yeah, yeah, and I'm rich ! Get the fuck out of here or at least, do me a favor and let me turn you in to the police." his face changes to disdain, suddenly thoroughly repelled by your being. "Man, you have to be some dirty criminal to have 600 000$ put on your face. What kind of shit have you done, huh ?

Six fucking what ?

-Uh, listen, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding here. I'm no criminal and I'm definitely not worth that much money.

Hell, in all your life, you did not even earn that much money !

-Hey, his tone changed to deviously adopt one sweeter. I don't want any problems okay ? With you, the cops or whoever is fucking wanting you dead. I'm an honest citizen.

What a hypocrite, he was literally yelling at you seconds ago.

You frown, trying to even understand what he's implying. You scratch your cheek, eyeing him from head to toe. He's in a tux, like always. He never do shit here, settling for bossing everyone around while trying to make you believe he's an irreplaceable element in the team.

Judging by his eyes, he is not kidding.

Is he for real firing you ? Just like that ? For some imaginary story he just made up ? Jobless, you will be jobless. He is firing you. A nervous chuckles escapes you, earning you a raise of the brow from Tony. No, oh no no ! You have this job, you did nothing wrong ! Life is already more shitty than it ever been ! Stalker, debts, fucking serial killer wanting your ass and now you lost your main job ? No, that won't do.

You were already planning to leave the bar, how are you supposed to find back two jobs ? One already was an ordeal.

-Honest citizen ? Are you blind ? You were more so than him at the moment. You don't even have an ounce of honesty in your fucking body ! Are you even aware of everything I did for this shitty place ? You can't fire me and you won't because no one else want to be your fucking slave ! Your job is slavery ! I don't want to be some kind of toy you throw away after you've had enough fun with it !

Tony was outraged you could talk to him like that. He was similar to a bourgeois in the eighteenth century, acting shocked after being the most gruesome person alive, putting his hand displayed on his chest and playing innocent.

-Me ? You should be honored to even be working ! You never understand, do you ? You are wanted, that's it ! There's nothing more, nothing less. You are fired. I am not hiring trash.

You hope the worst criminal of this town gets you, right here, for his fucking ugly disgusting restaurant to be destroyed to the very last crumbs. You'll use his body as a human shield while you're at it, after all, what else can he be useful for ?

Your body is boiling like lava. Hitting, jumping, crying, you don't know what you want, need, to do to externalize all of these toxic feelings. Never in your life have you felt more used, humiliated.

You knew he was an asshole, of course. Everyone does, but hell he fired you ! After years of being his toy !

You understand why people in Gotham are crazy. You understand why they suddenly breakdown and fall into crime. Their life, just like yours, was wasted by some self centered prick like him. Some self centered prick who are not even much richer than you, but think they will be when disrespecting you.

Your face isn't even warm, it's seething.

Your life is flashing before you, old friend, family, home, Mike. You won't even be able to pay your rent ! Of course chaos would be loved in a city where trash rules. Why the manifestation are so violent, why insecurity and banditry are prominent ? Because everyone is tired but nobody is listening. Because nobody wants to talk, they think they're at the top of the food chain.

And he won't change his mind. You're fired, that's all. Nothing can alters his decision. It's too late. He probably just created some poor excuses to get you out, you know it. Because you're not a criminal, and no one is giving away 600 000$ for your ass; he's lying. It's too farfetched.

You muster the calmest voice you can get while in such a boiling state, and God knows how hard it is. Wasting more time here is useless, he'll pay but not now, and not by you. You have a new problem: you need to find a job.

-Why don't you kill yourself, Tony ? Right now ? your eyes were empty against his outraged ones. That's why your wife left you, by the way. That's why she left you and took your damn kids. You don't even deserve to live, really, kill yourself, jump, it'll be better for everyone."

You shrug and turn away to never come back. You really hope he disappears forever.

And without anything else to do with your day, you went back home, body functioning by its own. With no diploma and no driving license, how were you supposed to find a job ? You had little experience, mostly having worked in little jobs everywhere. Cashiers, cleaner, babysitting, gardener (you really just cut bushes and mowed the lawn), security guard, fuck, you did it all. Plus, you have a second job and companies hate to arrange their schedules according to yours, in their point of view, you're the desperate one, you should manage your life.

It was safer to wander in Gotham now, the sun was bright in the sky. It was a clear day, really pretty. A shame you couldn't enjoy it.

You open the always creaking door of the building, feeling the freezing temperature inside. Truly a mystery, though a benediction in the hottest summer. A night out and it's like you already don't know this place anymore. You stand in the middle of the hall, staring at each crack in the walls, each suspicious stains, inhaling the disgusting smell emanating from it all.

Yeah, you hate this place.

Sighing and rubbing your tensed shoulders, you approach your mailbox. Opening it, you're pleasantly surprised when no cards is in sight. Maybe he finally got bored ? Your reaction back at the bar probably wasn't what he expected, not satisfying enough so he gave up. You hope so.

What's inside however is a A4 white sheet folded in two. Thinking a neighbor might have wanted to contact you, you open the paper. Yet, on it, the photo of your identity card in huge format, above it, your whole legal name with just below a price, written 'wanted' for treason. A chill run down your spine.

Okay, that is not funny. What the hell ? Did Tony did that ? If yes, how and why ? You pass your hand on your face, harshly rubbing your eyelids to wake you up. This is a joke, everything's a joke.

An echo brings you back on earth when someone goes down the stairs, upon seeing you, your neighbor halts. You offer him a tight lip smile out of pure politeness, which is a an act he does not even try to imitates as he eyes you as if seeing an animal. Do you look that bad ?

Awkwardly, you shift your weight on your feet to ease the tension growing in you. Why is he still looking at you ? The man, even though you were already well far away from him, distances himself and instead of going straight to the door to leave, bothers to make a detour in order to skirt you completely, without daring to approach a millimeter. Does he think you're going to bite, or what ? You two have talked in the past, briefly sure, but still. Fuck, his behaviour does not comfort you one bit.

When the door shut, you're left standing alone once again.

Things are definitely going in a direction you don't appreciate, you may need to hurry up before something really bad happens. Your hand fetches your phone in your back pocket, calling Sean. When he answers, he does not even bother to greet you.

"You okay? You left really early. You're at work ?

-I got fired, long story. I really need your help, again. I'm truly sorry I myself don't quite understand what's going on and... you stop your ranting, breathless and a lump in throat.

-It's okay, really. I don't mind. Tell me everything, how did you get fired ? Why ?

You called him for several reasons. The first being that he's kind of the only friend you have. The second being that Sean's family know people. They're all criminal at different degrees, whether it is gang leader, small thief or hitman. He's the only one actively trying to live an honest life.

-It's complicated and I'm still pissed about it. you tell him seriously, walking in circles in the hall. I have a question and I really need your answer.

-Not stressing at all. He tries to ease the mood, in vain.

-Am I wanted ?

Sean doesn't answer for twenty seconds too much. His silence is starting to worry you, why isn't he saying anything ? Is he confused ? Does he know ? Please, may he not hide something from you. Wanting to distract yourself, you take the stairs to join your flat. Your fingers were creasing the paper sheet in your hand so hard you could have ripped it.

-In like, he finally starts with a strained voice, a personality kind of way ? Relationship ? He chuckles awkwardly while you frown. Well, no offense but uh, I don't think I am attracted to you, I like you but I wouldn't say I want you, you know ? But you shouldn't be insecure, you're a really great person you know, and I mean, you're not ugly so...

-Sean, what the fuck ? You finally cut him when it hit you that he wasn't answering. You were on the floor just below yours, wanting to walk and not quite go home for the moment.

-I'm sorry, was that mean ? That was definitely mean. He clears his throat. Listen, what I meant was...

-No Sean I'm not insecure, everything's fine. I did not mean... Argh ! You're in this kind of environment, you should know !

-What environment ...?

You want to pull at his hair and shake his head back and forth to punish him for being so stupid. Or maybe you were just not being clear, it was surely that. You were incredibly stressed. Traveling between the different floors or the building to stretch your legs.

-Like, criminals, mafia, I don't know. It's... You sigh, your anger dissipating when you realized you were being a little harsh to him. Weird things keep happening to me and I think I'm going crazy for thinking I may have a price on my head.

-Oh, wanted wanted. No because I thought... He coughs. Never mind. I can definitely tell you that. But honestly, odds are low. No offense but you have nothing to give to anyone. You don't have a lot of money. So I don't think anyone wants you.

Damn.

-Why do you think that anyway ? he asks.

Very briefly, you explain to him why Tony had fired you, still using the stairs and floors as a distraction. Of course, you then told him about the paper you found in your mailbox and the weird encounter with your neighbor.

-I'm just really fucking lost, Sean. I'm sorry, you've been nothing but nice to me and I keep snapping at you, I-I don't know what's going on.

-You're freaked out, it's normal. I don't blame you. I'll help you, send me the wanted poster you got. Maybe it's fake."

Of course, you tell him. You'd do pretty much anything to get out of this situation. You want it to be fake, but there's just an accumulation of bad things that tend to make you believe it's true. Looking around you, you notice to be on the last floor of the building. Flattening the paper sheet back, trying to erase all the creases, you lay it on the dirty floor of the hallways. You tear your phone away from your ear for a simple moment to take the picture. You press send.

You wait impatiently for him to say something, anything. But his reaction is clearly not the one you were waiting for:

-Oh fuck.

-What ? you panic, feeling your heart rises in your throat. What do you mean 'oh fuck' ? Sean ?" But the nauseating ringing of the call being cut short echoes in your ear.

He hung up.

You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as hard as you can. Your fingers find your closed lid, pressing on it as if calming an upcoming headache. What the fuck is going on exactly ? Why did he hang up ? Did you say something ? Did he see something ? You can't keep doing that, nobody answered any of your questions since this morning. You are tired.

You give up. You'll go back home, sleep a little. Research a job in the newspaper and hope for things to get better. Sighing, you walk the stairs once again, only this time to really move on.

Has everyone given up on you ? It feels like it, no one seems akin to want to help you. You never did any wrong to anyone. You always hold the door open to people, you give the few you have to homeless people in the streets. You payed what an old woman lacked in money for her groceries. You work everyday of the damn week, with no holidays.

What have you done ?

Sure, you're starting to break down, you told Tony to kill himself, you yelled at Sean. What the hell ? Never would you have done that in your life. What's happening ? It's getting scary out there, yet, no one's here for you to confide in.

You never should have left your hometown, you punished yourself.

The first thing you do once inside your home is falling head first on the couch. Feeling tears filling up your eyes. You don't fight them, letting them slide freely along your cheeks. After all, it's the good part of having a place to yourself, you get to cry alone in the safety of it.

You'll have to give it up, though. Without necessary money, you'll eventually need to move. Probably find a roommate and live in a red light district.

You spent the next hours trying to read classified ads, key word being 'trying' as your watery eyes didn't allow you to see much. And you ended up watching TV, like you always do. You couldn't fathom the idea of being that alone. When did it all go wrong ? Are you a horrible person ?

The news-woman kept talking and talking without stopping, saying the same things as yesterday and probably tomorrow as well. Inflation, criminality, inflation, criminality. Where were you in all of this ? What about the population ? Where were the solutions ? Is this city really stuck in a loop of chaos ?

The screen now displays a cop in a police station, sharing his feeling and impression about the improvement of the city. You don't listen to him, more struck by what's behind him: a poster on a cork board. Yours. It's your face, with the price, 'treason' shit and everything. The exact same poster you had in your mailbox. The situation is that bad, huh ? Your wanted poster is right next to The Joker one. Is there a link ? Are they hoping to find him after finding you ? They're wrong, then.

You wait, impatiently trying to decipher whether the policeman will talk about you or not. But he does not, so you lay back down on the couch. How does wanted people live freely ? You've been researched for a few hours and you're already going crazy with the feeling everyone's watching you.

Do you even know a criminal in this town ? Well, the only one you do know is Sean. You briefly meet them at the bar, as part of your job. Befriending them is not for you though, so you have no useful information to give the Joker. Then what does he want ?

The doorbell rings through the flat, screaming at you to get up and do something with your life. A chill run through your body, breath stopping for a second out of fear to be heard. For a while, you don't move. Who could it be anyway ? Surely bad news. Now that you're wanted, it could be anyone. But the rings echoes again, forcing you to get up. Slowly and as quietly as possible, you slide to the door. Eye staring through the peephole, you're surprised to discover Sean standing anxiously outside.

How did he get your address ?

Opening the different locks on your door, you however keep the small chain closing it. It wasn't much of a protection to be honest, but you needed to lie to yourself a little bit.

"You hung up on me. Is the only thing you say when your eyes meet.

-I know, I'm really sorry. Are you okay ?

-How did you get my address ? It's weird.

He explains to you how your information are given on your work file. You stand inside, judging him from head to toe. He welcomed you at his place, you have to be polite or you'll really look like an opportunistic. But it's hard when you don't know his exact thoughts.

-Why did you hang up ?

-I talked to my uncle, he has a bar in the center of Gotham. Every criminal goes there, he knows everything.

-And ?

-You're safe, it's false. You're not wanted. He... He didn't see your poster. So it was a bad joke. Silence, you don't believe him. I promise. You're not in danger.

Then why is your face plastered in all Gotham ? Is he completely sure about that information ? You hate to act this way but, it's too late for him to tell you that anyway. False or not, the poster of your head is everywhere. People will try to find you. The veracity of it all doesn't matter anymore.

Though you can't shake that uneasy feeling inside you alerting you of his lie. You saw your face on TV, in a police station. It's not nothing !

-How are you so sure ?

-I told you, you have nothing that could interest such a dangerous man as the Joker.

He's right, on the other hand, something's definitely wrong.

-What do we do, now ?

-You could let me in ? I want to help you but we can't talk if I stay outside.

Halfheartedly, you let him in. He thanks you, admires a few seconds his surroundings before plopping down on the couch. You stay standing even after closing the door shut, crossing your arms on your chest and awaiting his arguments.

Should you tell him you saw your face in a police station ? No, you need to know what he's going to tell you. He's lying, you know it now. But why ?

You thought he could be a friend, turn out you can't trust him that much. Or are you losing it ? Policemen are quite dumb here, they are completely capable of believing everything they see and considering they're desperate to catch the Joker; they could have took your poster as a track.

-What's your plan ? you ask.

-It depends on what you want.

Well, you want a lot of different things. Money, happiness, freedom, family, equality, peace. Right now though, one will be enough.

-I need a job, I can't pay my rent this month otherwise.

-That one's easy. He crosses his arms on his chest, sinking into the sofa cushions. Try ask your bank, they'll lend you some.

-No they won't Sean, I'm indebted. Seriously, did he really think life was this easy ? Did he really think you haven't thought of doing just that ?

He sighs and shrug, crossing his legs, he put his feet on the table. Your eyes are enough to tell him to put them back on the ground. He's a little bit too comfortable for your liking.

-It's these immigrants my friend. We lack money because of them.

What ?

-No, it's just poor distribution of resources. With the ongoing inflation and such, it has literally nothing to do with immigration. You frown, confusion lacing your tone, answering him as if asking a question, because what ? That was so out of pocket ? It's stupid to think like that, it's too easy to accuse others. They're as fucked as we are, you know ? Don't say that.

That's what Gotham thinks ? That each one of their problem is caused by others ? Industries, Government, Politics, they're the one causing all of this. How does someone get to this conclusion ? You thought Sean was good, hell, his family was poor. They survived thanks to drugs and banditry. He's bold to think immigrants are the problem: His family literally embezzles money.

-Jeez, calm down.

Well, it's difficult to be calm towards this kind of stupidity. But at least it keeps you in check, you know who he's voting for. Never trust anyone. It's true you don't know him that well, after all.

-You want my help or not ?

It's harder to see him in the same light as before after this, but if he's the only one willing to help, you can't waste this chance.

-Yeah. You sigh, ashamed with yourself. I need people to forget about me.

-Good, meet me at the back of the bar at the end of our shift. He's not waiting for an answer as he gets up to leave.

-Wow. No ?

He stops in his tracks as you block his way.

-What do you mean, 'no' ?

Is he serious ? With everything you risk ? Criminals at the bar know you, hell, some of them see you every night. No, you are not joining him in the dark in a creepy alley late at night when people want you dead. Also, you need to think a little before jumping straight back to work, it's dangerous.

-Because I don't want to die ?" You need to tell him. "Okay, Sean, I may not understand everything but I know you're lying to me. Am I wanted or not ?

He already lost every ounce of respect you had for him. First with the lying, then with the whole immigrants things.

-You don't believe me ? Is he trying to make you feel guilty ?

-I saw my fucking head on the TV. I believe that's enough proof for me. You cut the conversation straight, not wanting him to keep lengthening things uselessly.

Sean doesn't answer, seemingly hesitating. What is he thinking ? He has to respond. He's constantly trying to avoid the subject and it's getting frustrating.

-That means I'm in danger, right ?

-Yes." he finally answers. Thank God, you think, God why, you also think. "But not because of the Joker. He's not responsible for what's happening to you. All the cards and riddles are from him, yes, but someone saw you two talking at the bar and thought they could get to him by killing you.

You entirely stopped trusting him after he mentioned the cards and the riddles. Because never, in all your discussions, have you mentioned receiving these. He knows too much.

You don't bring it up, of course.

-Explain.

Who could have told him about the riddles, if not you ? The one sending them ? Yes, but Sean's terrified of him. Plus, he couldn't talk to him, even if he had the courage to. It's the Joker, from what you understand, you don't approach him easily. He's not the small local criminal. He's something more.

-The Joker's well known. Everyone wants to defy him. And someone saw you.

-Who ? you ask, finally getting some well deserved qualitative answers.

-His name was, uh, Korej I believe.

-Ko...Rej... you repeat, unimpressed, frowning.

Is it you or does it sound vaguely similar to Joker, but with the letters all mixed up ?

-It's his pseudonym." He hastily answers. "But his real name is John, he lives in the richest part of Gotham. He's a mob leader. He fucking despises the Joker, that's why his name is Kojer.

-Korej, you corrected.

-Yeah, it's difficult to remember. It's quite the shitty name.

He really think you're dumb, right ? You clasp your hands together, catching his drifting attention.

-Okay, well, thank you for everything Sean. It was a pleasure, truly. But now I'm gonna ask you to leave.

-You don't believe me ?

No, no you don't. Everything he ever said to you since he first came here was either weird or false. And sometimes weirdly false.

-Please, leave my house.

You'll go to the nearest police station, ask for help. And if nobody helps you, you'll find a way out of here. This city is dead anyway, there's nothing for you anymore. It's too late.

-Don't you want to talk about it ? he asks hurriedly, displaying his open hands in the air as if ready to grab your shoulders.

-If you want us to talk, okay, you yield. But choose somewhere safe, with a lot of people. I am not joining you at the back of the bar at night where everyone could kill me.

You're going crazy. Why are you even accepting this ? It's not a dream, nor a joke, you really are wanted. People want to kill you. There is money on your head. Sean is deep in thoughts before getting the enlightenment he needed, suddenly vigorously saying:

-Shopping center.

-What ?

-Let's meet at the shopping center, in two hours. I have things to prepare, people to call. You have my number, I'll call you. Is it good for you ?

His behaviour is screaming danger, on the other hand, a rendez-vous in a crowded shopping center at 3PM is not as risky as the bar. And if things turn bad, you still have a chance to run away, hidden in the mass. You hope the things he'll prepare will help you, and not worsen everything.

"Okay. You yield, once again.

-Thank you so much, he exclaimed." Why is he thanking you ? "You're a real sweetheart. It will be worth it."

And with these last words, he left.

You won't go. Of course you won't go damn, you don't want to die. He's so suspicious ! Why so much relief ? He's the one supposed to help you, you're not doing anything for him. You absolutely changed your mind. Yesterday, he was that nice man who saved your life, welcoming you home warmly. Today, he's, well, you don't know who he is anymore. You want to understand, discover what's wrong, but at the same time, it's not yours to do.

Fuck, you need to empty your mind. It's tiring, to be suspicious of everyone, to always have to thoroughly think about everything you do. You plop down on your couch, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. There's a cartoon going on. Tom and Jerry, a cat chasing, or at least trying to, a mouse. But the mouse's well smarter than the cat. 

Each time he thinks he'll catch it, the mouse finds a way to turn the situation to his advantage. Because in fact, the cat will never win. He has the illusion of strength because of his height, when the mouse is vicious, malign. 

Also, if the cat caught the mouse, well, the show wouldn't have any interest anymore. 

On the screen, the mouse finds a way to slam the door in the cat face, who's dizzy. To illustrate it, stars and birds are rotating around his head.

You don't know why the mouse does all this, maybe to survive. The small animal found the comfort of a warm house with good cheese and doesn't want to leave. The cat, however, is forced to chase it all day. As his owners force him to. It's his role, as the house guard, to chase rodents. Otherwise, he'll be replaced. 

You have to be really damn fucked for you to start analyzing a stupid cartoon. 

Jeez, it's a cat chasing a mouse, it's silly, it's fun to watch. You don't think, just turn off your brain and have fun. Why can't you do just that ?

Sighing, you change channel, trying to find something worth watching. You end up watching the news, it keeping you grounded. It helps you think you're not the worst case, that there's always worse somewhere. It's deeply selfish, but hey, you can't do much about it. Your life is pretty much ruined at the moment. 

What's today's problem? Well this time, the subject is centered around climate change and its catastrophes.

"Global warming. Today, in Spain, alarming news. The national temperature has increased considerably by 46°F (5°C) since last year. The Spanish are revolted, the world is encountering a record in warmth. Their main claim, she reads her notes, "It's summer's weather when we're in autumn." She briefly gulps her saliva. "Indeed, the local heat reached 86°F (30°C) while 73°F (23°C) at night. IPCC's report is alarming, something has to change. Is the world government going to act ?" She quits her serious tone and changes the subject. "Local news; what's happening in Gotham today ?"

Ah, here you go. You turn up the volume. 

"Earlier in the main avenue today, several store signs were vandalized by a group of masked men, it is thought to be perpetrated by an illegal organization. It's a real raid that happened, terrorizing the passers-by and owners. The identity of the delinquent stays unfounded. We know that the police department is currently working on..."

You mute the TV. Vandalizing stores, now ? They didn't even steal anything, who does that ? On the screen, a replay of surveillance cameras showing masked men running, pushing people and only stopping to draw weird shapes on a few of the stores. It's bad, but not quite as bad as your case. Putting the sound back, you're perfectly timed with the conclusion of the event. 

"Where is Batman ? Has the vigilante abandoned our city ? We hope for his prompt return in time for him to apprehend the Joker." 

Batman, right. You forgot that man was even existing. While some wonder who is hiding behind the mask, you're left questioning yourself on which side is he. If he's with the cops, is he a good or bad man ? Police is part of the problem, certainly. But Batman sometimes helps people, although you never encountered him yourself. But is he really with the police ? 

Who is he working with ? And why is he what he is ?

"Whatever... You rub your eyes."

Why do you even keep thinking about that, it's not your problem anymore. You're leaving. Gotham has nothing left for you. Batman can do whatever he wants, for all you care. He doesn't know about your insignificant existence, why waste it thinking of him ? 

But are you really leaving this place, though ? 

Are you really about to leave your life and flee like a coward ? Yes, is the obvious answer. You could think about it, is the less obvious answer. 

Yes, your life is at stake. On the other hand, Sean could really be useful as you're still in danger as long as you stay in Gotham, he's a considerable ally in this story. And not only Sean but his family as well could help you. 

You know about his aunt. That woman is quite well known. A powerful gang chief. You could pay her to get escorted outside of Gotham. You're already indebted anyway, you have nothing to lose anymore. Moreover, nothing guarantees your safety once outside of Gotham. If the Joker is as feared as shown in the media, changing city won't be enough. Which is why you need to clear the problem directly from the root. 

Okay, you won't lose anything in going, right ? Maybe your life, but it's worth a try. You'll join Sean. Yes, you'll join him. 

When the time arrived, you couldn't shake that uneasy feeling taunting you all while preparing yourself. What if someone chases after you ? What if you get kidnapped ? You won't, of course you won't. Sean will be there when you arrive. He's dissuading enough. He's a big man. 

You found yourself before the gigantic mall before even being able to process it. It was crowded, people entering and getting out every second. For a moment, your eyes search for Sean in the rabble only to find no one. He's probably inside, it's safer. 

Tightly holding the hood stuck on your head, you stare intensely at whoever crosses your path, trying to gain enough courage to finally enter the building. 

It's scary to be wanted, the displeasing impression everyone's looking at you is suffocating. You could get killed, right now. Abducted, even. 

When the automated doors open, you're greeted by the cold air conditioning. It's autumn, why the hell would someone want to freeze to death ? 

Checking your phone, there's still no sign of Sean. He couldn't possibly stand you up, right ? He's the one who insisted for you to come. It wouldn't be logical. He's just late.

You can't really afford to be waiting in your situation, every second matters. You don't know what will happen. And, yeah, you're kind of starting to freak out. You don’t know where your wanted poster ended up. Maybe you’re already dead, and, shit, you're alone in such a vulnerable position. Fuck, why did you come ?

You’re trying to stay rational, thinking of every possibility as to why he’s not here. You nod your head to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He'll come. You just need a little patience. He said he needed to prepare things beforehand, that's why he's late. He's late because he'll help you. 

You miss the mall, it's been long since you last came here, too preoccupied with your two jobs. You used to like watching people but quickly stopped. First, you once or twice made an awkwardly long eye contact with a man who then wanted to beat you up for provoking him, "like a pussy". Then, the second reason is that people are just... Mean. You'd look at a pretty woman only for her to spit on the ground. In the street is already disgusting enough, but the mall ! You'll look at a man hugging a woman, just to realize that they both don't know each other and that he's drunk out of his mind. 

Maybe you do need to get out of here, actually. 

Your phone still hasn't buzzed, you need to do something with your body or you’ll go crazy. It’s obvious staring daggers at your device every second won’t help. He's not here yet, you need to accept it and wait. You'll walk a little to not get noticed, your tensed and motionless body language is screaming suspicious and people are starting to side eye you. 

It’s only natural of your legs to start bringing you to the places you used to go to, only to realize that one of your favorite stores closed permanently. Of course, with the crisis. It’s not surprising. 

"Fucking morons..." Mutters a man to your left. Upon looking in his direction, you meet the owner of the voice standing on a stepladder, trying to energetically scrub with a sponge his store's sign. Key word being 'trying' as it's not successful. 

Right, earlier's vandals. 

He's cursing to himself, scrubbing progressively more aggressively the almost intact big black 'O' tagged on the sign mocking him. 

"Can I know who did that? asked your curiosity. 

-Fucking assholes, he answers without even looking your way, that's who did that. 

-What do they looked like ?

-No idea, he grumbles. They all had that stupid mask on. All white with some blue and red. No idea what that was supposed to be. Ask the other owners if you're so interested, but you're late. Journalists already left. 

Oh, right. He thinks you’re a journalist. 

-Thank you, have a nice day sir.

-Yeah yeah…”

You heard several stores were vandalized, where are the others ? Letting your legs wander, you get your answer a few meters/feet away. A sign is hanging by an electric thread. 

It’s a shoe store, but its signboard was now displaying a big black 'O'. You lift a brow, confused about its meaning. Usually, tag either insults or convey a message. Anyhow, there's a sense. Now though, you can't quite pinpoint it. O, what starts with an O. Optimism, oppression, obedient omelette ? It can be anything. Maybe it's not a letter, but a signature? 

Two stores away (you see it out of the corner of your eye) another of these is vandalized, this time, a bold 'B' was written. What word could this correspond to? B for Batman ? It's not a word, mostly a name. Baby, maybe. Bomb, bag, anything. Hell, it could even be badminton for all you know. 

Next letter is directly after the previous one, a 'S' hiding the dress logo the sign was exhibiting prior. The paint is dripping a little and one or two drops can be seen on the ground. 

"Those damn scum." a man grumbles, who you think might be the owner of the poor store. He crosses his arms on his chest, looking up disapprovingly. 

You ignore him, now thrilled by all of this. You want to discover all the tags. It's not like you have much better to do anyway. Sean still hasn't answered you. You know what to do to wait: find words for each letter. S makes you think of sabotage, skull and soup. 

You see the next letter from afar, this time, an "E" welcomes you. Though, this one was partially erased. You guess the owner found the right product. It's now possible to read the sign and enjoy the sweet sight of what seems to be a sex shop sign. Is it even legal ? There's kids coming into this mall. Anyway, a lot of words start with E; Electric, Ebola, education, eagle. 

You don't find the next letter right away, needing to walk a little to find it. But when you do, you're weirdly excited. It's just a bunch of words on some signboards, yet, it's fun. Like an orienteering race. But mostly because you don't get to have much fun today, and this being out of your quotidian, it's easy to be ecstatic.  

Further away, it's not one but two letters that greets you; two "S", entwined like snakes. Shit, is it a nazi kind of tag ? It looks like the police's symbol there was back then. If that’s the case, you don’t find this as exciting as before. Not a good thing to write. There's already so much chaos here, you pray nazis are not going to be added to it. You think of the word 'Swiss' for this letter.

Next letter is an 'I'. Investigation, investment, ice. A woman bypasses you, hitting your shoulder with her. You squeal out of surprise, the woman doesn't even notice you. What a shitty town. You check your phone again, making sure Sean didn't try to contact you. No reply. 

Walking ahead, the next vandalized store needs you to turn to the left to be seen, it's an 'O', again. But you don’t have the time to think of words that you already see the next letter. It’s a ‘N’. Night, Nemo (as in the movie) and nuisance. You already found words starting with ‘O’ anyway. It seems to be the last one as you walk and turn but no others appear. Disappointment lingers, sad it ended so soon. 

What is it, does it form a word at the end ? Like street art ? Maybe, a shame you already forgot all the previous letters. It was fun, though. You'd do it again, it's entertaining. Like a track game where you follow a path. Vibrations are bringing you back to reality, rushing to take it, you rotate to leave the place in order to find somewhere calmer. In your haste, you bump straight into someone. You freeze for a second, phone in hand.

They’re wearing a mask, a clown mask on their black hair. And a really ugly one. It’s shiny, like plastic and it surely is. Their eyes are the only thing you see through the holes. Whoever that is is staring right into your damn soul. Their eyes are empty, so empty you might think they’re on some kind of drug. The big red nose in the middle of their face is mocking you, laughing at you to be scared of something so ridiculous. Two small tufts of green hair are standing on each side of his head, the false bloody teeth drawn on the mask is the final touch that tells you to leave.

“Sorry.” you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

Your hands are holding your phone so tightly that fear strikes you that you could actually break the screen. The clown does not move when you walk past him, and you realize right then and there that they were well too close to you for it to be normal. You hate clowns, you hate them so much. All of this because of that stupid Joker. That person probably wasn’t even related to him, maybe he was one of the vandals. You don’t know, you don’t want to.

When you pick up Sean’s call, he apologizes for being late and plans an area for you to meet. You’re before the sex shope tagged by the “E” by the time Sean joins you. You’re not as convinced as before to destroy the problem from its root after the clown encounter. You’re not a hero, not a criminal. You’re nothing, you don’t have anything to prove to anybody. You should leave.

“You okay ? You look like you saw a ghost ? He laughs, but he’s not your friend so you don’t.

-So ? Got out much more coldly than you intended it to be.

-Jeez, you’re impatient. I’ll help you, I told you I would, right ?

You did, doesn’t mean you really will. You cross your arms on your chest, approaching him for him to hear you more clearly.

-Do you have any information ? Ways to get me out of here ? To resolve this ? Anything ?

He sighs, stepping back as if you’re the plague and looking elsewhere in the crowd. He seems conflicted, forehead creased by his worry.

-I can’t tell you now, walls have ears.

-Then why the fuck would you tell me to join you here ? If you’re so scared to be spied on, we could have continued this discussion at my place.

Your tension is building up. It’s fucking frustrating to talk with him. He starts teasing you with interesting information, then, he retreats and acts as if nothing happened and you’re just impatient. He told you to come here, he told you he’d help you.

-At least answer my questions, you plead, I don’t even know who… Who is the Joker ? Who is he exactly ? He physically tensed, his shoulders literally hunched forwards. What the hell ?

-Well, uh, it's complicated.

Damn, even that couldn’t be answered. Why are you still here ?

-What do you mean it's complicated ? Is he a terrorist ? A thief ? A gang leader ? A serial killer ? It's a simple question.

-He's a little bit of everything, truly.

Why does he always seem so nervous talking about him ?

-Sean for the love of God, he’s not here ! people are starting to look in your direction, but you couldn’t care less. You can calm down, he won’t kill you ! You gotta breathe a little, man. Aren’t you the one who literally told me he wasn’t after me ? It’s not the first time you’re lying to me and I’m starting to lose it. Why am I here ? Tell me, why are we fucking here if you’re not gonna help me ! Who is this man and what does he want ? Why does he want to kill me ! It’s…” a gunshot whistles in the air, cutting you in your sentence straight away, screams erupting from all sides.

Your body acts before you can think, throwing yourself on the ground. It’s hard to understand what’s going on, but in a way, you don’t try to. You get up quickly and lose yourself in the running and yelling crowd. Your paranoia is not helping, was this gunshot aimed at you ? Sean is somewhere in the mall, but it’s too late. You gave him a chance, he wasted it.

Another gunshot echoes, followed closely by the sound of a glass breaking. Your senses are overwhelmed; names, insults, orders are being yelled. Is the Joker here ? You need to get out of here, now. Bodies are pushed against yours, your clothes are being tugged on. But when you were about to reach the exit, someone harshly grabs you out of the crowd, pulling you aside. It’s panic in your head, survival instinct kicking in. You yank your arm out of the person’s hold but freeze upon seeing Sean threaten you with a gun.

“Sean, you start with a shaky voice, what the fuck ? his eyes are cold, you don’t recognize him. He looks at you as if you're nothing, as if you're no one.

-He’s here, he states, looking paranoidly to the sides. He’s… He’s going to kill me if I don’t bring you to him.

-Bring me to who, Sean ? But you fear you might already know.

-The Joker.

Of course he’d betray you. Who are you kidding ? You knew, you knew he would trap you. Your eyes can’t leave the sight of the gun barrel, following each of its movements. He’s shaking, you realize. Is he scared, hesitating ? Or motivated by a hatred so pure he can’t even control his own feelings ?

-Sean, you try nonetheless, he’ll kill you either way okay ? He’s a sadist, we can… you gulp, throat suddenly burning dry. We can leave together, we’ll leave the city and…

-You don’t understand, do you ? He’ll track you, he’ll track us down. And then, he’ll slaughter us like pigs. You hear me ? He’ll slaught…

-I get it ! I get it ! you scream, shutting your eyes in order to erase those images from your head.

How can you even change his mind ? You doubt he’d fold with some speech about your friendship. It’s not like you two were that close to be honest. Sure, you liked him but that changed since the beginning of the Joker catastrophe.

-He promised me money, he explained himself. As if you’d forgive him after hearing his justification. A lot of money. You can’t understand what it’s like to… when you see him lower his weapon, you interrupt him, drived by your anger.

-How can you be so stupid ? He was, he truly was an idiot for believing the Joker. You haven’t known that beast for long, but each time someone defined him, it was always along the lines of wicked, treacherous, vicious and ruthless. So yeah, he was stupid. Was your life worth something as insignificant as money ? Has he ever liked you ?

-Shut up ! I’m done living like a fucking tramp !

Tramp is a big word coming from him, daddy pays him everything ! You’re tired of his tantrums, he is a grown man, ten or fifteen years older than you and he’s acting like a child. Suffering is your quotidian as well, but you would’ve never betrayed him. In fact, that is your problem. You’re not a scumbag like him, that’s why you can’t stand him. You have no value similar to his, if he even has some. By what right does he think he can use you to get, what, a few dirty money ?

If you're going to die, at least you'll die telling him every resentment you had towards him.

-You think I am happy ?! Your life’s better than mine ! Fuck you Sean, you’re an asshole ! You’re a fucking asshole ! You’re the one that should die !

-Shut the fuck up you whore !

A burning pain sliced through you along a sharp sound, legs losing all strength and making you fall on the ground. Your ears are ringing and your breath is cut for a few long seconds. What happened ? Is the first question popping in your head, but the atrocious pain coursing through your leg answers you. Your hand touches your hurting limb, but retreats it instantly at the pain. So you look down.

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.

It’s yours. It’s… It’s your damn blood, you’re bleeding. You have a hole in your leg and it’s gushing out blood. He shot you. Fuck, oh God, oh God, you’re bleeding. You’re fucking bleeding and it hurt like hell. It hurt so damn bad, why, why did he do that ? Your eyes are stinging and soon, tears fall down your cheeks. Are you going to die ? Here ? With nothing accomplished ? Alone ? Shot by the only man you thought was your friend ?

-I believe alive was written on the contract.

You recognize that voice, you hear it in your nightmares.

-Joker ! I… She tried to run away, I had to immobilize her !

It’s weird, your body is exhausted, yet, the pain is keeping you well awake. Your head is heavy when you lay it on the dirty ground of the mall. Eyes trailing slowly to the two men talking. Finally, he’s here before you. He’s shown himself. Even if it’s only the second time you see him, you talked and heard about him so much these past hours it feels like you’ve been with him for months. And maybe you were, in a way. Sean walks past you, not glancing towards your drained body on the ground. He’s scared of him. He plays the big man with you, but he’s a little bitch.

How is Sean, a man built like a fridge, so terrified of someone so ridiculous as the Joker ?

Who is he ?

The pain in your leg makes it feel numb and at the same as alive as it never been. The Joker sighs exaggeratedly, he tilts his head to the side to look at you. Shivers shake your whole body. Is that it ? This is the man who’ll abduct you ? You’d rather get killed instantly.

-And right on Valentine’s day...” mumbles the Joker.

It’s not, it’s autumn. Valentine’s day is in February, in winter. From your position, police sirens are heard and red and blue lights are flashing, reflecting on the windows. The Joker takes out a gun out of his long purple jacket and aims it towards Sean.

“Please ! He yells. I-I did what you wanted ! She’s here, please don’t kill me ! I’m a hitman, I’ll work for you !

Is he, now ? He's barely a barman.

-Do I look like I'm searching for employees ? He asks, opening his arms and bending his hands for his palms to face the ceiling before looking around him for confirmation. Because I’m not.”

You're torn between relief and horror at the sight of Sean falling to the ground after another gunshot, bathing in his own blood. He did betray you, he brought you here, he brought this upon you, upon himself. But he’s dead. You wished him to, but now that he is you’re horrified.

It’s then that you realize that The Joker is surrounded by his masked goons. Probably the one who vandalized the store, now that you think about it. You walked right into his trap.

“Well ? What are you waiting for ? he asks almost comically. Bring the package to the car !

When several men surrounds you, you're left yelling and fighting to get out of their holds, in vain, of course. The blood gushing out of your hurting limb isn't helping much, anyway. You feel your strength slowly evaporate from you.

Shotguns echoes, but your ringing ears prevent you to precisely locate it. Soon, they throw you in the back of a car and close the door, leaving you in the dark.

Gotham killed you.  

[cyyfics]

Heyy! Can you please if you what to Yandere farmworld Finn story please if you do Yanderes request and can you make it some what long? Like how would the kid react to this?

——————

Stay Here

Pairing: Farmworld! Finn X gn! Reader

Warning(s): general YANDERE CONTENT, fighting/arguing, gaslighting, lying, manipulation

Synopsis: You stumble upon a hidden room in your friends house, only to find a shrine of you sitting there. Events occur.

Note: I’m gonna update my req rules to specify something- I need ppl to tell me if they want the reader to be into the yandere shit or not :,) bc if it’s not specified then I’ll just do whatever I want to tbh….

Spoiler note (spoiler for the story):

I decided to make Finn’s kids sort’ve yandere too, since they’re his kids I feel like they would’ve learned some if not all of his tendencies.

Extra note??: sorry abt the ending idk… also this is just sfw idk if u wanted nsfw or anytbing jdk.. I hope this story is good ^^

|2nd Point Of View

—————

Today was the same as any other day, you would pop in by the house to see Finn and his children as per usual- but this time things were different. Felt different, I mean.

The house was empty and eerily creepy, despite the sunlight shining through the windows it still felt rather dark and scary. However, you still trudged on forward and marched inside the house. As you walked through the doorway, the door shut behind you. The sound of the door closing behind you startled you actually, but you didn’t give it much attention.

‘I’m just extra jumpy today, that’s all..’

You told yourself as you crept through the house slowly, looking around for any sign of Finn or the kids inside. It felt wrong to be inside their house if they were gone, but you just had to check if anyone was there. You hoped someone was, because leaving your door unlocked and unattended is really dangerous.

“Finn? You there?”

You started to call out, walking through to the kitchen “Who’s there?” You turned around and smiled as you finally saw a familiar face, it was Jay standing in the doorway. He was leant against the frame for a moment before noticing it was you, immediately running up to hug you. You ruffled his hair as his arms wrapped around your torso, his adorable young face looking up at you.

“Hi there Jay, where’s everyone else gone? You alone today or something?” You asked him as you gently pulled away from the hug, Jay’s smile faltering for a moment as you do. “Alone? No, of course not! Me and my siblings have just been playing hide and seek! Bonnie suggested it.” Jay explained, giggling to himself as he spotted a tuft of blonde hair coming from under the table.

Your eyes followed his and you noticed Bonnie hiding under there, trying to hug herself to make herself look smaller. Hoping she wouldn’t be noticed and lose the game. “Bonnie is that-“ Jay cut you off, pressing a finger to your lips to shut you up. “Shh.” He whispered. “My, oh my..” he moved away from you and then began to walk around the table, marching around it with his arms behind his back.

“Where is my dear sister? It’s been ages- but alas, I cannot find her!” He dramatically draped an arm over his face, causing Bonnie to have a giggle fit from under the table. “Got you!” Jay bent down and picked her up, dragging her gently from underneath the table. “No fair!” She shook her head at him “How is it not fair?” He furrowed his eyebrows, trying not to laugh at her.

“.. because.”

You couldn’t help smiling at the two bickering, your lips curled upwards and stretching from ear to ear. “Well, Bonnie, you were the last one to be found. So you’re it.” Jay poked her cheek, Bonnie immediately grumbled “fineeeee!” She hopped down from his arms and walked up to a nearby wall, leaning her head on it as she began to count. “How are the rest of the kids supposed to know she’s it?” You asked curiously “I’ll go tell them. She takes a while to count.” Jay began to walk off “Oh and by the way! You better hide too.” Jay left the room.

You glanced towards Bonnie, watching her struggle to count “-ten.. eleven.. twelve..” she counted out loud “…” she stayed quiet for a moment “thirteen.” You whispered to her “..thirteen.. fourteen..” she continued counting. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment ‘Maybe I really should go and hide, I should join their fun little game.’

You left the kitchen and started to look around for a place to hide ‘where’s a good spot to hide..? I don’t wanna go anywhere I’m not supposed to either..’ you pondered to yourself, kneeling down behind the couch and seeing a crawl space right there. ‘A crawl space? They’ll never find me.’ You pushed the little door open a little, inspecting the hole with your eyes before hesitantly crawling in ‘.. maybe that’s a bad thing actually.’

Hands and knees were now aching, stinging and slightly red from having to crawl the whole way. You finally made it to the end of the crawl space, seeing a small yet big enough room; big enough for you to stand in at least. You stood up and started to look around, your breath getting caught in your throat as you saw something weird something off. You were definitely not supposed to be here.

Looking straight at you was a picture frame with a photo of you right in the middle of a table, the photo looking badly damaged. You didn’t recognise the picture of yourself at first, you couldn’t remember yourself nor the kids nor Finn taking it of you. It was a simple photo of you looking away, the outside world in the background behind you. Around the picture frame was many little tea light candles, most of them already been lit before, you could tell from the melted wax.

You reached out hesitantly to touch some of the weird things around the photo of yourself, one thing immediately catching your eye. You grabbed what looked to be a lock of hair inside of a small bag, making you grimace and drop the bag back onto the table. You didn’t wanna be there anymore, you didn’t wanna see anymore of the shrine! You-

You took a deep breath, deciding to give the family the benefit of the doubt. Surely, this was just a weird thing that the kids had made, you didn’t need to get upset over it. That’s what you believed for a quick moment at least, hope fleeting before your eyes. You felt a chill going up your spine, turning around in fear only to see a child standing there in front of you.

“Neptr?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, watching as he stood to the side and revealed the rest of the kids standing there too. Jay finished coming out of the crawl space, standing there in front of you now with a look you couldn’t make out. “Yeah Dad, they’re in here..” Jay called out, facing towards the crawl spot. Your heart dropped and your blood ran cold, what in the world was going on?

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t wanna do this but- please don’t leave! You’re the closest thing our family has had to a parent since our mother died!” Jay began to plead with you “Yeah! Please stay, we need you. And you like us, right? Right?” Bonnie asked, trying to put on the cutest little face ever in order to manipulate you into staying.

“That’s enough, kids.”

Your eyes switched from the kids over to Finn who had finished coming out, he was sweating and panting like he’d just been on a run. “Finn, what IS all of- this?” You gestured towards the shrine “You weren’t supposed to find it.” Finn started stepping towards you, making you walk backwards until you eventually bumped into the shrine. Your back pressed against the table, making you scrunch your face up in pain for just a moment.

“Careful there.” He grabbed your waist and pulled you away from the table, making sure you wouldn’t be hurt.

“What. Is. This. Finn?” You repeated, letting him know you were definitely upset with him. “I made it in your likeness, you like it?” Finn’s eyes darkened for a moment, and for a moment it was just like he had become the ice monster again. “No!- it’s creepy! Why and how have you gotten this stuff?” You tried not to get too upset because of the kids standing there, even though you wanted to shout and scream at Finn for the weird shit he’s done.

“Please don’t be mad at Dad, he just likes you is all! Please don’t leave us, we really like you here!” Bonnie started to give the puppy dog eyes, pouting her bottom lip out at you. “It’s true, I do like you. I’m sorry for the weird shrine, I just- have a hard time expressing my feelings for people and I mistakenly thought you’d enjoy it. Please, allow me to fix this. Don’t leave us..” Finn was definitely manipulating you. But despite knowing that fact, a part of you still wanted to believe it, so you stayed.

“You thought.. I’d like this weird thing?” You didn’t trust his words exactly “..Yes, I thought you’d find it flattering. I’m so sorry. I’m not a bad guy, I’m really not. You know that, don’t you?” Finn came up a little closer to you but this time you didn’t back away “I- I mean..” he wasn’t exactly wrong per say. You remembered the many times he was kind to you, giving you food when you had none and even sheltering you at times. “Fine. You know what then? Leave if you wish, I won’t stop you. I know that you don’t really care about us, or like us-“ you cut Finn off.

“Of course I like you guys!” You exclaimed, not realising you were falling into Finn’s trap. “Really, you do? Oh, but then why do you wanna leave us so badly?” Finn gave a fake saddened look, tricking you into feeling sorry for him “Did we do something wrong?” Stormo and Neptr asked in unison. “N-No, nothing wrong! It was just a mistake is all, and Finn was right-it is… sort of flattering.” You couldn’t help giving in, all the manipulation getting to you.

“So, you’ll stay? Stay with us?” Finn looked directly into your eyes, it felt intimidating. “Y-Yes.” You weren’t even sure if you had a choice, what would of happened if you’d said no? “You make me the happiest man in the world! Y/n’s not leaving Kids!” Finn hugged you, squeezing your torso with his stronger arms. It was only a simple hug, and yet it was also a reminder that he really could crush you if he wanted to.

“Yay!” The kids came around to hug you as well, the whole family and you hugging each other. “Okay, okay, that’s enough..” Finn broke the group hug apart “Kids, please the two of us alone for now.” Finn instructed “Okay dad!” Bonnie started to leave, the rest following not long after her. Jay was the last to leave, turning his head back to look at the two of you for a moment “See you later, mom/dad/parent.”

His words had unknowingly trapped you, you couldn’t leave him and the family when you were seen as their new parent! It’d be wrong. And you’re not a ‘bad person.’

“I just- wanted to talk to you..” Finn spoke up, startling you. “About?” You questioned “Its true, I really do like you. I’m sorry about this whole mess. I just haven’t liked anyone in a long time and so I didn’t know what to do with my feelings.” Finn was lying through his teeth, and yet you had went and bought it. “I.. guess I can understand that.” You sighed “I fell in love with you because of your personality, you’re so kind to me and the kids- and you’re such an honest and smart person.” He stepped a little closer towards you.

You didn’t back away this time, but you weren’t sure what to do. “Do you feel the same way, at all?” Finn’s voice grew slightly deeper at the end there which sent a chill through your whole body. “Well..” you began to think to yourself, not sure what to say “- yes. At least a little.” You confessed, not knowing what you’d gotten yourself in to. Finn gave a big bright smile before opening his big strong arms up and pulling you into a tight hug, lifting you into the air by your waist.

“Yes! Amazing! Now I don’t have to make you like me.” Finn couldn’t help let that bit slip, making your eyes widen slightly “W-What?” You questioned “I think I can hear the kids calling for their mom/dad/parent.” Finn distracted you, which you then again fell for. “They are? I’m coming!” And you immediately went to them, because that’s just who you are. You’re a nurturer, a real kind and honest person, you couldn’t just leave the kids when they need you.

[karma-vvitch]

l'amour de ma vie

Thought I was depressed or losing my mind My stomach upset almost all of the time But after I left, it was obvious why (oh), mm Because for you, you I was the love of your life, mm But you were not mine (but you were not mine)

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Angst

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:  Hurt/No Comfort, Angst fest lmao, Bucky’s kinda a dick in this one (so for all the ppl who don’t like reading Bucky in a negative light, this isn’t for you babe. *I’m ppl), The reader is implied to be chubby/plus size, slight body insecurity, but I think reader girl bossed in this (maybe it’s just me), AGAIN THERE IS NO FLUFF HERE ABSOLUTELY NONE. 

“You ruined me” You glared at him “You ruined me, Bucky Barnes” It’s been 2 weeks and 3 days since Bucky broke up with me. The audacity of that man. I don’t know where it went wrong. Was it when he started coming home late? Or when he started sleeping on the couch? There were too many instances to count. I guess the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he left his phone on the counter, Sharon’s contact notification glowed brightly. “We should stop this” God I thought for once I wasn’t an idiot, but once again my ego was shattered. That fucker told me he loved me, all of me. From my smile, to my curves, to my thighs. And yet he still went for miss perfect. “Baby–” The asshole spoke. “Baby? Seriously Barnes? Trying to soften me up? We’re SO past that!” I laugh incredulously. Fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “You promised me! You dick! You promised me! You said you looked past this–” gesturing to my body “I thought you saw me for me, Bucky!” He looked embarrassed. Good. “Baby, can we please not do it here?” He looked around the common room we were standing in. The place occupied by the team who were in awe and disbelief on what’s going on. This bitch “Oh! You’re embarassed? Good, let them see your shame for the lying, cheating piece of shit that you are!” Gasps are echoed throughout the room. The woman in question as well, finally, looking away in shame. Bucky looked helpless. The severity of the situation finally hitting him like a freight train. “Please, it was a mistake. Yes, I’m a huge asshole for hurting you. You have all the right. I love you. What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life and I’m sorry–” tears flowing freely from his eyes at this point “I’m so so sorry” The sight before you could’ve made you fold easily. Bucky on his knees, grovelling. Your Bucky who held you when your friends abandoned you. Your Bucky who drove you to McDonald’s at 3am to get nuggets. Your Bucky who dropped everything just to go home and take care of you at your lowest. For a second you thought that everything happening at the moment was just a bad dream. He would never hurt you… But he did. His cries snapped you back to reality. “I broke up with you because I was a coward, I thought I could fix myself and come back to your life a better man– I should’ve told you sooner” All I could do is stare at him, emotionless and numb. What does one even do in this situation? The (once) love of your life, who has hurt you beyond any comprehension is grovelling at your feet. Should I say something? Should I lash out at him? Should I make him get up? It was all becoming too much In the end, I just turned my heel and left. The echoes of his increasing sobs and pleas following me. Good.

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This may or may not be based on real-life... Oops. The angst gods were coursing through me ngl. I haven't written in months so this is exciting. The depression is still there and thriving but I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I love :>. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, I get to write more Bucky stuff (I promise there will be more fluff. God knows this man deserves it). Anyway, hope y'all have a great day/night! xoxo

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: None yet!

[niki-phoria]

idk if you write for reactions, but i would a reaction from enhypen's hyung line about their 8thmember!reader s/o being injured while practicing <33

(and yes i would like this very fluffy😍😍)

‧₊˚✩ enhypen hyung line reaction - their s/o gets hurt during practice

warnings: just gonna list the injuries so (heeseung: sprained ankle, jay: torn mcl, jake: pulled muscle, sunghoon: broken ankle), worried heeseung, descriptions of hospitals/medical treatment but nothing graphic, one cuss word in sunghoon's

a/n: thank you so much for requesting !! this is more comfort than fluff tbh but i tried to keep it all very cute and happy. i didn't include the maknae line bc i kinda struggled with this and i didn't want to wait any longer to post it but i am willing to make a part 02 with the maknaes if anyone is interested. i hope you like it :))

additional notes: i wanna write for enha more but i have no ideas :// and in case you're curious i write imagines and reactions (no headcannons since ppl keep asking for them) the list of who/what i write for is linked in my pinned post

gn 8th member reader (no pronouns used)

requests open !! read my rules first

‧₊˚✩ heeseung

word count 410

he(e)'s so hot slknesklns

you grunt when you hit the ground. pain blooms through your ankle immediately, spreading through your leg and down your foot. “oh my god, are you okay?” your dancer kneels down next to you, holding a hand out to help you up. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to trip you.” 

“it’s okay, i didn’t see you either.” 

you wince when you try to put weight on your right ankle. “are you okay?” 

“yeah, i just think i hurt my ankle.” 

“let me go find a medic.” you nod, limping over to lean against a wall while you wait for help. you can hear her bounding footsteps as she runs back to the studio with an emt following closely behind her. 

“can you stand on it?” he asks, helping you take your shoe and sock off. hues of red and purple have already begun spreading along the skin. the dancer you tripped over nervously hovers behind him, grimacing at the sight of your foot. 

“not really,” you wince when he presses down against the bone. “it hurts when i try to put weight on it.” 

he nods, standing up. “i’m gonna go get some ice and then i'll wrap it. tell me if you notice any intense swelling or if the pain gets worse. you'll be off of it for a few weeks.” 

“here, let me help you,” she says, supporting your weight with her own body. 

“thanks,” you whisper, letting her guide you to a nearby chair. she pushes another chair over to you, helping you lift your leg up onto it. 

“are you gonna be okay here?” 

“i’m alright, thank you so much.” she nods, lowering her head into another apologetic bow before she leaves. 

you’re left alone in the room for a few minutes before heeseung bursts through the door. “y/n,” he gasps, rushing to your side. he’s frantic, eyes wide and hair disheveled. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “i heard about what happened, i’m so sorry i wasn’t there.” 

“it’s okay.” you reach over to grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“does it hurt?” 

you shake your head. “it feels better with the ice.” 

“how long will you be off of it?” 

“they said it keep it elevated and put ice on it. they’re about to come back and wrap it for the next few weeks.”

heeseung leans down to press a kiss against your temple. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

‧₊˚✩ jay

word count 452

i love him sm :(( got a little carried away with this one whoops

you yelp as you fall, hitting the ground hard. your knee hits the ground first. pain immediately spreads through your leg. “y/n!” jay is quick to rush to your side, helping you sit up. you wince, failing to stand up. tears brim your eyes as you cling to jay. “are you okay?” he whispers. 

“i hurt my knee.” 

“can you stand?” jay helps you up as you slowly stand on your feet. you feel off-balance, pain still stinging through your leg. 

“it hurts.” you can see jay share a concerned glance with jungwon, calling a manager over. 

“we’ll get you to a hospital, okay?” her voice is quiet. she’s almost overwhelmingly sweet as she helps you into the backseat of a car before climbing into the front. 

the emergency room smells of hand sanitizer and rubbing alcohol as you wait to be seen. curtains surround your bed though they do little to provide you with any sort of privacy from the other patients. jay’s hand holds yours, fingers intertwined together. “you’ll be okay.” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your temple. “i promise.” you can tell he’s nervous by the way he squeezes your hand a little tighter than usual. 

finally, a doctor enters. she has thick black-rimmed glasses pushed high up on her nose. her shoulder-length black hair is tied back into a low ponytail. “l/n y/n?” she asks. you nod. “can you tell me what happened?” 

“i fell on my knee during a missed stunt.” 

her hands are cold as she pushes the fabric of your pants up, pressing against your now swollen knee. you wince when she presses around the area. “does it hurt when you straighten your leg?” 

“yeah. it hurts to stand on.” she hums, marking down a few notes on a clipboard. 

“i’m gonna do an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken. it sounds like a torn medial collateral ligament.” 

“what’s the treatment for that?” jay asks. he squeezes your hand reassuringly when you nervously glance up at him. 

“we’ll put on a knee brace. you’ll be on crutches for a few weeks.” 

“thank you.” the doctor curtly nods before she leaves, closing the curtain behind her. 

jay wraps you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “it’s gonna be okay. it’s only a few weeks.” 

“i don’t want to let anyone down.” you whisper. 

he lifts your chin, making you look up into his eyes. “you could never do that. you’ll wear the brace and then you’ll get better and start performing sooner than you realize.” 

you nod, pulling him back into a hug. “thank you.” 

jay presses a kiss against your forehead. “anything for you.”

‧₊˚✩ jake

word count 358

i need mullet jake SKLNESLN not as severe as the others but i was running out of ideas okay

the pain in your leg is sharp. it burns - stinging each of your nerves with each movement you make. you wince, shifting your weight onto your left leg. jake’s hand ghosts against your lower back, coaxing your to lean against him instead. 

“let’s take a break. we’ll pick it up again in five?” your choreographer announces. murmurs of agreement ripple throughout the group as jake helps you to sit down next against the wall. 

“is everything okay?” he whispers. 

“yeah, just pulled a muscle.” 

“i’m sorry baby.” his hands feel warm against your skin as he moves the fabric of your pant leg out of the way, massaging the sore muscle. “take it easy for the rest of the day, okay? it’ll get even worse if you try to push yourself too hard.” 

“i will.” 

“babe,” jake opens his arms, gesturing for you to lay with him. you comply, making your way back over to him. you lean against his chest as he rubs your back. “how’s your leg? does it still hurt?” you hum, voice muffled by his hoodie. jake chuckles. “i’ll take that as a yes.” 

you pull away a little, moving to lean against his shoulder. “it still stings a little.” 

“come on,” jake shifts so you’re laying on your stomach. “let me take care of you.” you chuckle, letting him maneuver you onto the bed. 

jake leans over you so his knees are pressed against your side. his hands are gentle as he presses them against your back. they feel warm through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. “you’re so tense,” he whispers. you can almost see his furrowed eyebrows and slight frown as he slightly increases the pressure. 

you sigh, relaxing further into the bed. jake moves lower down your body, from your shoulders to your back and eventually down to your calf. slowly, the pain dissipates from your leg until the numb feeling is no longer there. 

he moves off of you, giving you room to roll onto your side. “better?” jake asks. 

you smile, pulling him into a quick kiss. “much better. thank you.” 

“i love you.” 

“i love you too.”

‧₊˚✩ sunghoon

word count 338

hoon is so pretty i am so jealous the gender envy i get from this man in unmatched

you gasp when you trip, tumbling off of the edge of the stage. pain shoots through your ankle when you clamber to your feet as you force yourself to stand back up. a staff member rushes to your side, quickly followed by sunghoon. 

“that was a hard fall, i want you to get checked out by a medic.” 

“but-” your manager’s concerned look is enough to make you stop resisting, instead letting sunghoon support your body weight as you wait for the emt. 

“are you okay?” sunghoon asks. you sigh, avoiding eye contact. 

“i can’t believe i fell off the fucking stage.” 

“hey,” sunghoon moves so he’s standing in front of you, lifting your chin so you’re looking at him. “don’t talk like that. you made a mistake. it’s okay.” he strokes his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “we’ve never practiced here before. it’s not your fault.” 

you nod, letting his words console you. your ankle is already deep shades of red when you remove your sock and shoe. despite how gentle the emt is when he presses against the bones of your ankle, pain immediately shoots through your body. you flinch, tears building in your eyes. sunghoon rubs a hand against your back. you cling to his body as the medic looks up at you. 

“it looks like a hairline fracture,” he says. “it’ll take a few months to heal. we’ll get you some ice to put on it for now and then you’ll need to get an x-ray done.” 

“thank you.” he nods sympathetically at you before leaving, taking his bag with you. sunghoon presses a kiss against your temple, letting you lean further into his touch. 

“it’ll be okay. i promise.” 

“what about the concert?” 

“don’t worry about it.” he lifts your face so you’re looking up at him. “you just focus on getting better, okay? engene will support you either way.” 

“i love you.” 

sunghoon presses another kiss against your forehead. “i love you too.” 

[dilfhos]

sooo this is gonna be a messy rant on the observations ive made between different writer communities, blog interactions and overall “status”. just silly little things I’ve noticed in my 4+ years being on tumblr btwn 2 diff blogs. and this is about no one specific, a very generalized post so if you find urself offended i honestly dont know what to tell you?? :o do better ig. & if you relate, i feel for you. TLDR @/end.

i dont like interacting/ building connections with people but not for the reasons ppl think. im not stuck up or pretentious or weird or anything. just another anime-enjoyer who loves to write in her free time. nobody special by a longshot!! i enjoy writing, always have since before i was a teen. (wasn’t always ff tho!).

but over the years ive just noticed fandom writing has its gritty sides that no one talks about often and its no mystery why so many prolific/ popular writers deactivated, me included. i had some shitty experiences and have seen friends go bc of it.

firstly, I’ve noticed, once you start interacting and building friendships with people, it’s easier to see the bigger perspective of where ppl stand and the blatant hierarchy of friendships and groups. same applies to that outside. like its literally just me n’ my bsf then my acquaintances bc mfs be weirddd omg its like cults or something. like thats why initially I didn’t interact w/anyone starting on my new blog. that n’ fear of drama following from my last blog ugh. ‘Cept the few i’ve met on my old blog (like my wifey)

not to mention i have bad anxiety. and sometimes im cue-deaf. i dont always pick up what people put down and vice versa and it makes me conscious in a lot of my interactions. so a part of me doesn’t want to interact at all to avoid all awkwardness and possible miscommunications. that’s not to say i don’t notice subtle changes in interactions after one situation / conversation or so forth, that in myself or witnessed between other ppl. (im perceptive, just not that good conversationalist lol. like i really have to try.)

but then…if you don’t interact with people on here, your chances of building an audience or a reader base is slim to none. the likelihood of developing relationships is zip. because you’re already perceived and pegged as just another tumblr writer. pause. to clarify, a writer who doesn’t want any recognition or interactions from mutuals or new friends. or just a lonely writer? a introverted, lonely writer. which leads to little to none interactions (anons, reblogs, moots —exposure.)

so then its like you’re kinda placed btwn a rock n a hard place. and there’s absolutely no problem with that! in fact this is the best part—meeting friends and like-minded people! people that make being online all the more worth it right? thirsting over fictional characters and sharing in each other’s works!

but you have to be in specific circles it seems. but then you can’t imply that you want to be in those circles bc then you’re desperate.

but well, then you cant purposefully want to be independent or be on your own or else you’re a hater, hypocrite or stuck up. not to mention, no one will reblog your stuff lol. no one will interact fr, and you’re friendless essentially. and god forbid if you disagree on something as if opinions don’t exist btw! then you’re being ganged up on. (like omg grow up!)

but then if you reach out you’re seen as trying to wedge in or kiss ass? you interact and follow and you’re ignored or left hanging? (bc im gonna touch your hand when i say this—it never gave fan, your majesty of horny nerds) and this is about ALL the writing communities and fandoms—spicy content, black content and dark content. ALL.

yet no one wants to talk about the pregnant elephant in the room—bias. and favoritism. also people seem to have a hard time being direct with how they’re feeling toward/about someone ( in a good or bad way) which in turn leads to a lot of miscommunication and subliminal attacks. (not to mention hate anons? one of my moots just had her inbox flooded w/them recently, ew.)

you can lead a horse to water AND you can write a 500-word essay on the observations made on tumblr writers as a whole. (a long ass post on the truth on behalf of those feeling this too)

also, slapping a HEY LOOK AT ME! IM A WRITER WHO WANTS INTERACTION AND FRIENDS! on a blog is frankly embarrassing. it shouldn’t even take all that seeing how easy it is for others wanting the same thing.

or doing less to achieve the same result.

not to mention, yall shit on ppl who essentially feel this way altogether bc you peg them as sb who doesn’t “try” or just jealous when their own works are phenomenally written themselves. ive seen it. and ive lived it. never gave jealousy baby.

at the end of the day, we’re all writers— either longterm or hobbyists. (personally, im longterm) self-indulgent or not! and its absolutely amazing when people are being fair in how they spread love and feedback to their writers.

Secondly, its not news that people have to want to reblog your fics so that their followers can reblog, so they can reblog, and their followers can reblog and so forth. but ppl honestly dont care atp bc once they’ve already read it, they owe you nothing. and apparently asking for reblogs is crass and bold. (imma do it anyway) but putting your very all into a story just to turn and see a half-thought out hc soaring 3k in 2hrs and 5k in a day — you have to stfu, open your ass and take it. keep it cute!

you’re getting fucked after all!!

because if you complain—you’re just jealous and lazy and uncreative!! and i hate that to seem like a writer worth a damn, you have to change up your writing style every two weeks to fit in with trending waves.

“no more poetic long fics, nobody’s into that! short, snappy slutty shots are all the rage!” “ppl are only into these specific tropes but you can’t exceed 2k words!” “only add trending characters to these hcs! ppl love them only!” “don’t write too much about a specific character or else ill unfollow you!” its exhausting.

i am well within my right as a literary artist to desire more feedback and interaction on anything i put out. period. and you are too! 🫵

God, im tired of that stupid, ‘you have to enjoy your writing for yourself and not worry about notes’ line. i do love my writing! don’t get me wrong there’s nobody id rather write like if not myself fr. not to mention the inspiration i draw from famous literary authors. however, i would love feedback and the same energy that i see with others in my same caliber.

and when i see others that didn’t even try fr—its a slap in the face to put it bluntly.

i can want silly little comments and notes about something i cherish and put out for that reason and yall aren’t gonna make me feel bad about it. sorry! like yall really be making people feel shitty for wanting the same type of interactions you get! especially when its harmless, bye asf. nb want to recipe to ur peach cobbler b!

the only one giving push back are those appointed popular /top blogs n’ cliques tho. now personally, i honestly dgaf if you have 20 followers or 25k, writing is writing and if its good you should want to support it regardless of following count/interaction right?

unfortunately, and quite unsurprisingly its not the case for the rest of this hellhole lol. there’s always gonna be some “big blog” in any part of tumblr or any social media for that matter.

but when the sole purpose being on a site like tumblr to write is mainly exposure, then it just makes it ten times worse especially if it seems that these blogs are steady at the top of every. single. tag. and listen, i know how initially stupid that sounds but when you’ve picked up on patterns for as long as i have, well iykyk.

so imma be real bc no one else will, half of the posts that yall see with 25k notes have alr been done. just different characters, different words, different dialogue. And 8/10 its been done by sb who only received 100 notes. Thats the evil part. whats more is that it lacks the creativity the one post with 100-300 notes is filled with completely.

POP QUIZ! what post would readers be more inclined to read? — one that says 10k (ohhh that must be popular!) or the one with only 150 (oh i guess nb really liked that one) that no one is even willing to reblog for MORE. and BOOM. now yall wonder why so many great writers LEAVE, its a fucking joke.

so unfortunately its no longer only about or only on readers anymore. its about who you know and who you know is willing to support your fr. who is willing to REBLOG your fics for their friends and followers, so that their friends and followers can reblog. to fit in you actually have to get in these days and it makes it all less enjoyable. makes it a chore and if you aren’t ‘doing it right’ ultimately it makes you feel shitty about your writing. (Please don’t, you are doing amazing. its the platform.)

it makes people not want to jump into writing. it pushes away those who actually want to join writing communities and meet people without feeling like they have to jump thru hoops to thrive or worse—live in other ppls shadows. and then it deters those from speaking up in fear of being shut down by bigger groups. ive seen it happen time and time again.

lastly, and this is the juiciest part! you absolutely cannot say anything about any of this bc you’re complaining and a fisher just looking for attention and not someone who just want things to be fair all over. play the game, right? ( wrong. and if this is your logic, you suck! )

its no longer about making flashy banners and pretty themes. its no longer about how many clever directory links you add or how many games you initiate on your blog or whether or not you’ve reblogged your fic three times already. its about your “friends”, other mutuals, and blogs willing to support you too. not just the audience. audience gonna do what they want regardless. reblog, don’t reblog, whatever. “at least ive read it right?” but everyone knows this. duh! but it’s obvious who doesn’t care as long as they’re on top of that tag! its admirable in a way but it sucks for those wanting to break out and build some kind of readerbase and/or make friends.

TLDR; people need to stop being bias and be fair and open lol. stop picking favorites and share the love all around. you see another person writing your favorite character or trope, give them a fucking chance and reblog, regardless if they’re in your ‘circle’ / radar or not. regardless if you know them or not. hell, let them put you on to a new fandom. bc writing is writing and making new moots and finding new fics seem to be what everyone loves to showcase until its time to actually do it. no wonder people get discouraged to make friends and write, yall treat it like some kind of secret society when its supposed to be fun💀 not a competition. (yall need to dead this clique-y shit. )

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Reunion Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lucien’s 2023 CN Birthday Event (The New World)✧ Birthday Story | Birthday Prologue | Birthday Date (You're here!) | ASMR | Birthday Party

It turns out that on a day like this, I'm allowed to have both loneliness and warmth at the same time.

Translation under the cut~

Special thanks to @/ivioivioivi for helping me translate some sentences. I am really thankful that you replied to my messages even in odd hours :"D.

[T/N: I don't want to break the flow, so I'll say it now. You need to at least read Lucien's 3rd birthday date and phone call (Looking Back Date+ Saplings of Love Phone Call) first to understand half of the date. It's even better if you've read all of his birthday dates and birthday R&S/stories. YEARS worth of build-up pays off wonderfully and painfully on this date :". Some non-birthday dates that get referenced/I think are important to understand his growth are:

Standstill date (I forgot the official EN localization of this date, so here is the fan translation ver of it. The 'old game' in this Reunion Date is a reference to this date).

Wild Luxury Date (not a direct reference, but MC's idea to book a B&B for his birthday can be traced back to them going to a wild luxury hotel LOL. Because of the 'memorable things' that happened here, they've been exploring many kinds of hotels ever since then.

Tidying-up date (The date dives deep into how Lucien dealt with his pain and grief- that is, by trying to abandon them because he didn't know any better, there's no time to slow down and properly deal with it :". But because of the 'complex feeling' (that he FINALLY got to understand in Reunion Date) he's unable to do so.

Also, a casual reminder that his birthday is also his parents' death anniversary since they got into a car accident during his 7th birthday- it'll come into play on this date ;).

ANYWAY, this date is such a TREAT for ppl who have been liking him for years and watching him grow slowly.

[Subtitled Video Ver - TURN ON CC]

VERY recommended to follow along with the voice acting for a more complete experience! It's just that he never sounded this vulnerable before :"". And BGM choice is really superb hhhh. I don't expect them to use that angsty BGM from last anniv.

[Transcript Ver]

I'm looking at the phone screen with one minute left on the countdown and placing the candle into the cupcake I secretly baked in the evening.

MC: 51, 52, 53......

I silently count the time, and at the last second, I push Lucien's study door open and turn off the lights.

MC: Happy birthday to you~

MC: Happy birthday to Professor Lucien, the smartest professor in the world~

The dim candlelight gently illuminates Lucien, who is sitting at the desk. He seems stunned for a moment, but soon, a joyful smile fills his eyes.

Lucien: So, the idea of celebrating my birthday at a B&B was just part of your surprise.

MC: I can't have you guessing everything. I still need to prepare some unexpected surprises for the birthday boy.

It's rare that Lucien doesn't have to go on a business trip this year, and there are no additional work assignments at the institute.

So, I booked a B&B in advance, taking two days off together. We'll celebrate his birthday while enjoying a brief vacation.

I smile and place the cupcake on the table, brushing away the strands of hair that hang in front of his eyes.

MC: And since we're both on vacation, every second from now on is worth celebrating.

MC: So, it's now a special midnight blessing time~

Lucien: [chuckles] And what blessing are you going to give me?

He wraps his arm around my waist, allowing me to sit on his lap.

His deep pupils dive into the depths of my eyes along our pressed foreheads, and even our breaths become intimate.

MC: Hmm... Midnight blessings mark the beginning of your birthday, so I'll start by wishing you... to be yourself on this day.

His pupils briefly contract, and it seems like even his breath has slowed down a bit.

MC: Usually, we often do things we don't particularly like for various reasons.

MC: Whether it's playing a role or fulfilling responsibilities, life is often filled with many “have to's”.

MC: But the privilege of a birthday means that today, you are the most important person in the world.

MC: So, on this day, do everything you want to do and be as comfortable as you can be.

MC: That's my midnight blessing.

The candlelight light is long, silently enveloping both of us and turning this small space into the whole world.

Lucien: (whispers hoarsely) Then I'll accept it.

His warm breath touches my lips, lingering into the first long trailing note of a wish.

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

After he blows out the candle and finishes the cake, I follow his wish and nestle into Lucien's embrace.

I occasionally use my gaze to trace his face. Although I don't know what he's busy with, I'm happy to spend every moment with him.

Spending it in silence is fine too.

Lucien: Several student papers that I was helping to mentor were sent over just in time. I'll finish them quickly.

MC: Take your time reading them~ This way, I'm also absorbing the essence of wisdom.

He arches his eyebrows, leans against my head, and then shifts his gaze back to the screen.

The mouse wheel sound bears witness to the continuously flipped text, and suddenly, I detect a brief moment of silence.

Lucien appears to have no reaction. His gaze is lingering and seems to have also frozen in this moment.

Did he encounter any problems?

I tilt my head and find the cursor paused beside a cited reference, flickering silently.

An obscure and minuscule string of English appears in the lower corner, with only "1996.98~99" discernible.

Lucien: MC.

MC: Lucien?

Our simultaneous saying left me momentarily stunned, and he seemed to be surprised as well. The hold around my waist tightened imperceptibly.

MC: What's wrong?

Lucien: (tenderly) Nothing, I just wanted to call your name.

Lucien: In order to give you my undivided time for the next two days, I just need a little more time.

Lucien: (softly) You go ahead and sleep.

MC: (smiles) Don't stay up too late then.

With a familiar warmth beside me, I don't say much. I simply raise my head and lightly peck his lips, only to realize that he hasn't let go of my hand.

Lucien: Just stay by my side, I'll take care of getting you back into bed with me.

—-------------------------------------------------------

When the alarm clock goes off, I sleepily roll over and discover that the other side of the bed is empty.

The hour hand has just pointed to six o'clock, and I shake off my drowsiness, getting up to search for Lucien's figure.

MC: Did he leave this early? There isn't anything urgent at the research institute, is there…

I'm contemplating whether to send him a message when the door is pushed open.

Lucien is uncharacteristically dressed formally, and I wonder how long he's been outside as he's covered in the chilly air of early autumn.

He probably doesn't expect me to wake up so early, but he just stands there indifferently.

It's as if he's stripped away all emotions and turned into a blank slate in human form.

Somehow, I don't ask him where he went. Instead, I walk over and instinctively take hold of his somewhat stiff and cold hand, placing it against my own face.

MC: Why didn't you wear a scarf? Come here quickly-

Before I can finish speaking, he envelops me in his embrace.

It's an incredibly tight embrace.

Lucien doesn't say anything, yet it's as if he's telling me something.

I simply tighten my hug, letting this silence continue.

The chill fades away as if bidding farewell, and the person in my embrace slowly opens his mouth.

Lucien: (quietly) MC, I went to do something very important.

Lucien: It feels like I'm years late, but fortunately, nothing has changed.

I can't see Lucien's face at this moment, but I can only feel his voice, soft as if not wanting to disturb a certain tranquility.

Lucien: But because of this, I seem to have some new questions.

Lucien: Can you help me with these things I haven't quite figured out yet?

He speaks vaguely, yet there's a genuine sincerity in his words.

A vague idea forms in my mind, something that I can't pin down, but I don't want to put off either.

I gently brushed his bangs with my fingers and looked at him calmly.

MC: Of course, I'm willing to help. How do you want me to help you?

This question seems to have stumped Lucien. He ponders for a while and then smiles helplessly.

Lucien: I don't know either.

MC: Well, it's wonderful. The world has left you with a special puzzle on your birthday~

Lucien that's somewhat at a loss makes me unable to suppress my laugh.

MC: It's okay. After all, growing up doesn't necessarily mean always moving forward. I'll help you find the answers.

—-------------------------------------------------------

I lead him into the living room, where the golden sunlight streams over the horizon, casting its glow upon us.

MC: But since student Lucien doesn't have a direction, I'll have to guide you in my own way, so you better cooperate with me.

Lucien: I'm more than willing, Teacher MC.

MC: Very well. First... let's start by filling our bellies!

—--------------------------------------------------------

After eating, as Lucien places the suitcase in the trunk, I suddenly recall something and retrieve the car cooler from the storage room.

Lucien: It seems that Teacher MC is indeed well-prepared.

MC: Hehe, I must protect my main course well~

And this way, you can go wherever you want.

I don't want to impose any pressure on him, so I simply think to myself and smoothly take the driver's seat.

MC: Today, let me be the escort for the birthday star.

Lucien: What if I also wish for MC to enjoy herself?

MC: You can't use the blessings I gave you against me!

I laugh and pinch his nose. Before starting the car, I come up with a great idea.

MC: Let's play an old game.

Lucien: Aren't we supposed to go to the B&B you booked?

MC: We have plenty of time, so we can have some fun before heading to our destination.

MC: No need to rush, taking it slow is also good. It's also the birthday star's privilege.

Lucien: [chuckle] I can't help but want to be this willful birthday star every day now.

MC: In that case, I'm fully on board!

I grip the steering wheel with both hands, waiting for his response.

MC: So, what's the number in your mind?

Lucien: How about... 389?

MC: Got it!

I enter the number into the map app and, without any reservations, start the car towards the unfamiliar location 18 kilometers away.

I don't drive too fast along the way. Rather than rushing to the destination, it's more about enjoying the scenery along the route. I ask him for the next random number when we encounter red lights.

MC: When did they start repairing the bridge here?

Lucien: It seems they started construction last year, and judging by the progress, it should be completed within the next six months.

Lucien: I hadn't noticed that park over there before.

MC: I remember that this place used to be a lake?

Lucien: Mm, they probably redesigned the walkway, and it seems like cars aren't allowed in anymore.

With Lucien's various choices, we leisurely travel the road, watching this extremely familiar city give birth to new branches in unfamiliar corners.

Time has always been silent, seeping into every crevice, every building, every plant, and every person's face.

The city also seems to be growing up with us, shedding a certain part of itself and transforming into something more fresh and new.

And as Lucien and I walk through these changes together, it's hard to say whether I feel more nostalgia or anticipation.

Until the red light appears, I have no idea where I've driven us to.

In the unfamiliar scenery, warm light falls upon Lucien's face.

MC: Now, do you have any places you'd like to go or things you'd like to do?

This time, I didn't ask him for a random number but instead posed a question during this brief moment of silence.

Perhaps it's only after walking many paths that you'll discover the one you want to take.

The red light flickers and the countdown numbers slowly extend into his field of vision.

Lucien: I want to... look at the flowers.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Under Lucien's guidance, we continued to drive for a while.

The unknown world gradually added familiar sights, and the road ahead also widened.

The road of the old street is wider than it was three years ago, as if it had been freshly paved with asphalt, shining brightly in the sunlight.

Heading uphill all the way, not far ahead, I can vaguely see a massive white building.

Unlike the last time, Lucien confidently directs the way this time—until we park in the parking lot next to the white building.

In the distance, the hills and fields are vibrant, and osmanthus flowers dance silently in the wind like tiny specks of light.

They complement this massive white building, radiating splendid beauty, which makes my eyes well up with emotion.

It turns out that something new has already bloomed on that empty lot.

MC: So, this hospital has already been built…

Lucien: Um, it will officially open to the public in a few months.

Lucien shows no intention of getting out of the car and calmly gazes ahead.

I also follow his gaze. The hospital is surrounded by hills and forests, and we listen to the distant chirping of insects, telling the secrets of the wilderness.

The wind rustles through the leaves, and the lush greenery and deep red hues cast beautiful light and shadow under the sunlight.

MC: Were these trees here before?

Lucien: I believe they were also transplanted here in the past two years.

I lean against the steering wheel, looking at the scenery in front of me that is entirely different from what I remember, and I can't help but not know how to describe my feelings.

MC: Can a hospital be built so quickly?

Lucien: Of course, it's even faster since this hospital is a crucial project for expanding clinical teaching bases in Loveland City.

He said it naturally, causing my gaze to unconsciously shift back at him.

Perhaps my gaze is too probing, so Lucien casually slumps down on the right side of the dashboard.

Lucien: Actually, I've been here a few times before due to work reasons.

Lucien: While their primary research focus is orthopedics, they also want to incorporate related studies in neuroscience to treat more complex and critical diseases.

Lucien: That's why the hospital director approached me for a collaboration.

MC: You surely agreed, right?

Lucien: Do I appear so easy to persuade?

MC: You're far from being easy to persuade.

I reach out and gently caress his cheek that's nestled between his arms.

MC: (smiles softly) It's clear to me that you've always known what you want to do.

In the sunlight, Lucien seems to smile more comfortably. He nuzzles my palm, bringing himself closer to me.

Lucien: Although they are still lacking in clinical expertise in neuroscience, Lucien's Bioscience Research Center has already signed an agreement with this hospital.

Lucien: I will provide them with the necessary research theoretical support.

Lucien: However, to bridge some gaps, I recommended one of my former classmates from my doctoral program to them. Whether they can persuade him to join depends on the efforts of the hospital director.

Lucien appears nonchalant, but I can hear so much sentiment in his words.

It's Lucien's own research institute that concluded the collaboration, and even though he's aware of the shortcomings on the other side, he still chose to cooperate.

He probably unconsciously hopes that the things that are growing anew on that land will turn into something even more beautiful.

Perhaps because I've been staring at him, Lucien seems to have also understood the unspoken words I haven't uttered.

Lucien: The reason I agreed may be because, at some moment, I felt like I had touched upon a coincidence called fate.

MC: Should scientists believe in these things?

Lucien: [chuckle] It's needed once in a while.

We can't help but laugh together.

MC: How about we get down and go for a walk?

MC: Perhaps fate has other words to speak within this coincidence.

While that's what I'm saying, I actually don't know what else fate might have to say.

We don't enter the hospital; instead, we aimlessly stroll around.

That empty lot is no longer just a distant memory, nor does it remain stagnant in its place.

We walk up the hill and see a slightly small but uniquely looking shop by the side of the side road.

It quietly nestled amidst the woods directly facing the hospital, the rich aroma of coffee blending gently with the scent of fresh grass.

MC: This shop is also new, right?

Lucien: Indeed, I didn't expect a new coffee shop to open here.

Our gazes collide, and in each other's eyes, we see the same expectation.

MC: Let's go check it out then!

The simple and elegant decor made the whole café look clean and bright.

There's only one owner in the store, even though it's not yet opening time, she warmly welcomed us.

Owner: I didn't expect to have customers at this time.

Owner: The sunshine is lovely today. Why don't you two sit over here and enjoy the beautiful scenery?

She says as she leads us to a floor-to-ceiling window on the south side. Looking at the scene in front of me, I unconsciously hold my breath.

Emerald green, golden yellow, and crimson red – time unfolds the colors it has painted to depict life in front of this window.

It's as if the four seasons silently cycle, but at this moment, it kindly extends all of its vistas, leaving the shadow of time here.

Owner: Not far away, they've built a new hospital, and it seems the director is very environmentally conscious as they've planted many trees in the vicinity.

Owner: Looking out of this window, there are two very special trees, and I observe that only during this season of the year is there such a unique view.

MC: ...It's really beautiful, thank you for your recommendation!

After thanking the boss, we're sitting in front of that window.

Lucien gazes out of the window, slightly lost in thought. The colorful light and shadows fall delicately on him, as if embracing him, sinking him into the shade of the trees.

MC: I wonder if this place is directly facing the window where the little boy used to be.

He pauses for a moment and looks at me amidst the gorgeous display.

MC: At this moment, can we also see the four seasons in his eyes when he looks outside the window?

Lucien: (smiles while looking away) Probably so.

Lucien: After all, it's what has grown anew on this land.

His voice is heavy and resolute.

MC: That's wonderful.

Lucien: Hmm?

MC: They are so beautiful, it's truly wonderful.

Memories are now distant and unattainable, but they still remain here. And in such a birthplace, all the beauty that has grown is so delightful.

MC: Perhaps this painting-like scenery is also a gift from fate to you.

Beneath the play of light and shadow, the girl's face is filled with the colors of sunshine, and she smiles warmly.

Lucien always feels that the emotions that he couldn't figure out the answer to seem to open a small crack, allowing even more indescribable feelings to pour out.

When discussing the collaboration compensation, he proposed donating two trees in the name of the research institute as a partial substitute for the hiring fee.

At every moment when he came here alone, he could clearly feel the spreading branches and twigs.

Perhaps, the meaning of time lies in the fact that nothing stays in one place, and this is also a form of trace and continuity.

It's just that, some changes would be better if they happened slower.

He always selfishly thinks this way.

Lucien: Probably... it really is a gift, isn't it?

Lucien: However, there may be more to it than just fate.

The colorful world is distant yet clear, all frozen in the eyes.

Because of you, I can see the traces of time so clearly.

It turns out that everything has passed for so long, long enough that I'm almost forgetting the name of this feeling.

It turns out that on a day like this, I'm allowed to have both loneliness and warmth at the same time.

It turns out that what I felt was sadness.

—--------------------------------------------------------

=Flashback Start=

The cemetery in the early morning is dark and solemn, with only a few stars twinkling in the sky.

The streets at four o'clock were too deserted, so Lucien bought a particularly simple bouquet of flowers from a newly opened stall at the door.

He passed through the freshly painted iron gate and walked slowly along the gravel path.

The paper's reference seemed to pull him into the light and shadow of time that he couldn't speak or think of yet also couldn't forget.

There were always two busy figures, always smiling with their eyes forever gazing into the distance.

These long-ago scenes that feel more like yesterday are strangling his breath and cutting open his wound today.

The time devoured by enduring anxieties of emptiness returns in its entirety today, as it does on all other 'todays'.

Some kind of longing dug into the wound, causing him to suddenly pause before tucking the girl in his arms into the quilt.

He pondered for a long time, and in the end, he decided to put on a suit.

That period of time was like this road, neither long nor short, but he spent many years on it.

Lucien stopped before the graves, gazing at the familiar names on it, and heaved a long sigh.

What should he say? He didn't know.

He simply gently placed the flowers down and reached out to touch the name on the tombstone.

The dust had settled in the gaps, and he cleaned it meticulously, even those stubborn stains were carefully wiped away.

He silently gazed at those two clean names, looking at them again and again.

Lucien: I seem to... miss both of you.

Today belongs to both of you, yet it also feels like it belongs to me.

When I abandon my name, I can treat it as a day that only belongs to me.

Now that I stand before you, does it mean that the distant past has slowly arrived at my side?

When I leave, the time left for you both will come to an end, and the time ahead should be reserved for her, or maybe for the me who's blessed by you.

Is that okay?

Lucien knew that no one would provide him with an answer. He simply sat there, no longer dwelling on anything.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there, until the slowly approaching light from the distance began to illuminate him.

=Flashback End=

—--------------------------------------------------------

MC: You can open your eyes now!

Lucien opens his eyes under my guidance, and I happen to collect the last decoration.

Lucien: The issues troubling me seem to have somewhat disrupted your preparations.

MC: That's not entirely true.

Noticing that Lucien has picked up on some clues, I place the cake on the small couch and pull him down to sit.

MC: No matter how grand the birthday celebration is or how it is celebrated, the focus should be on the person who is celebrating it.

MC: You are the most important.

MC: Everything I've done is simply in the hope that they can appear more fittingly before you.

The warm light falls on the small arched couch, enclosing our figures leaning against the glass within it.

Outside, it started raining at some point, the raindrops hitting gently against the window. Much like the indescribable feelings, the world was shrouded in a misty haze.

Lucien: It feels like we're inside an egg here.

MC: Right? I think so too.

MC: So, let's just imagine we've briefly returned to the state before venturing into the human world and taking a rest here.

Lucien: Hmm, what's outside the window then?

MC: Outside the window is the place we'll go to.

MC: It might rain today, it might be clear tomorrow, or there might be a sandstorm.

MC: Every day, the weather will be different, there will be many sad things, and there will also be many happy moments.

Lucien: Can sadness and happiness... exist at the same time?

MC: Of course they can.

MC: Because they are both important to you.

I gently stroke his brow and gaze deeper into him through those eyes filled with emotions.

Lucien: (in the most fragile tone you ever hear-) ….Then, can you hug me?

I don't speak; instead, I answer him with my actions.

Perhaps I had also waited for a long time, waiting for him to come to me, letting me accompany him and giving me the right to comfort him.

Lucien: I went to meet some very important people today.

MC: Um.

Lucien: I miss them very much.

MC: Mm.

Lucien: But I feel happy again because of you.

I bite my lower lip hard and feel my eyes slightly welling up.

Lucien: I don't know how to handle these emotions, but I also feel a bit childish like this.

MC: I don't think so. I really like you just the way you are now.

MC: Being candid and clumsy, like a child without any worries. It's a kind of growth for you too.

Lucien: But today is obviously my birthday, isn't?

MC: It's precisely because today is your birthday that you can be like this.

I can't help but hug him even tighter.

MC: Sometimes, I feel as if we're growing up like layers of an onion, with each year wrapped around the last.

MC: Even though you're growing older, you still have all the previous ages you've been.

MC: You are also the 26-year-old Lucien, the 20-year-old Lucien, the 18-year-old Lucien, the 14-year-old Lucien – you are every version of yourself from different time periods.

MC: So, you can think rationally, but you can also be indifferent; you can be passionate, yet feel discouraged at times.

MC: When we grow up, we don't abandon ourselves. Every version of you from the past is still within your heart.

MC: You will see them, comfort them, and accept them.

Behind me, Lucien is silent, but the slightly tightened arms seem to quietly reveal something.

MC: What did the ten-year-old Lucien do today?

Lucien: Mm... I read a very special book.

MC: And what about the fourteen-year-old Lucien?

Lucien: I went to Venice, took photos at the Bridge of Sighs, and accidentally dropped my camera.

MC: Hmm, and what about when you were seventeen?

Lucien: Spent an entire night in my own independent laboratory.

MC: Wow, you! You didn't pull an all-nighter at twenty as well, did you?

Lucien: When I was twenty… I was given a graduation ceremony that I think is a bit special now.

MC: And what about you today?

He slowly lifts his head, his soft fingertips caressing my cheek.

Lucien: I went to meet important people

Lucien: And returned to your side.

MC: So you see, today may be your birthday, but it's also a special book day and a day for a bit of luck to escape.

MC: It can be an all-nighter day or a day for sleep. It's your graduation ceremony, and it's also the day of your important people.

MC: It doesn't just belong to happiness, it simply belongs to you.

MC: Happy birthday, Lucien. You don't have to be just happy.

The droplet on the glass window reflects the candlelight, resembling burning osmanthus petals as if time itself has paused by our side.

Lucien finally smiles, his eyes sparkling.

Lucien: I think, I know what wish to make now.

He wraps my hands together in his and looks at the candlelight.

It seems like he's saying a lot of wishes, and only after a while does he rest his forehead against mine.

MC: I hope all your wishes come true.

Lucien: Well, this Miss will have to work hard because it's not just from the present me.

Lucien: I just took the opportunity to make up for all those days I forgot to make wishes.

MC: Right now, I feel like I'm accompanying the past you.

MC: Would you call me silly for feeling this way?

Lucien: (whispers softly) Of course not.

His warm lips gently cover mine, devout and solemn.

Lucien: Furthermore, for the future me, the present is my past.

At the moment the candles were blown out, the sound of fireworks bursting in the distance could be heard. Colorful fireworks exploded outside the window, decorating the night sky.

It turns out that the rain had silently stopped at some point.

Lucien: It looks like there will be fireworks outside the window.

MC: It's welcoming you.

At this moment, there are less than 10 minutes left until the end of Lucien's birthday.

I grab his hand and run out of the B&B, running onto the street.

The street scene is incredibly lively, and for some reason, the celebratory fireworks keep lighting up the night sky, leaving colorful streaks in their wake.

Pedestrians pause for a moment, and I hold Lucien's hand. We walk through the crowd and I excitedly turn back to him.

MC: Lucien, it's wonderful that you came into this world.

MC: Thank you for coming into this world, thank you for coming to my side.

Another burst of fireworks soars into the sky, and the world is so beautiful, as if gathering all the colors of this moment into his eyes.

All the accumulated emotions are like the fireworks at this moment, making him vibrant and alive.

I see him take my hand and wrap his other arm around my waist.

Perhaps this isn't even a dance, we're just embracing each other and spinning around while laughing.

It seems like only the two of us exist in the world.

Lucien: MC.

I hear him calling my name.

Lucien: Thank you, for giving me this beautiful world as a present.

MC: Then I hope even more that whether I participate in your world or not, you will have the beauty of the whole world.

Lucien: Don't worry.

Lucien's eyes are filled with a smile, and the lamp's warm glow makes him look incredibly bright.

Lucien: All my time is as dazzling as you.

-

[Phone Call- coming soon]

-

[Lux's small rambling corner]

Dying rn after two sleepless nights, so I'll say a little for now and will add more after resting for some days orz. But really, I think what makes this date good can be felt with heart. Every single sentence is golden and worth to be screaming about hnghhh.

Where should I start??? Everything about this date feels perfect. I don't even know where to begin🥹 I genuinely think this one is his best birthday date. The pay of years' worth of build-up and the metaphors are perfect, and GOD, how this date consists of everything that makes them unique and lovable to me.

I didn't anticipate that the writers would skillfully weave together past birthday dates on this occasion. Honestly, I wouldn't mind if this marks the final instance centered around the theme of the past self. Embracing every version of your past self that makes up 'you' is truly a fitting conclusion.

It's INSANE how his writers are able to build up the whole thing over the span of 6 YEARS like??? The way his change and growth happen little by little as we accompany him in those years, watching him now just being himself, frankly expressing his emotions and longing, and taking the initiative to be vulnerable for the first time, I can't help but feel emotional sob sob. Trust me, I CRIED the first time I read that part when he asked for a hug. We've seen him being vulnerable before, but him being the one who takes the initiative is an entirely different matter. I mean, Lucien????? the same guy that says he's okay when he got heatstroke???/hj.

Anyway, with each birthday, Lucien seems to discover something new. Like last year when he finally found a place that can be called home, this year, what he found was the loneliness and sadness from the past that he hid so deeply because he just didn't understand and had no time to deal with it. After his parents' death he give himself a new name and abandoned his old one. Like cutting off his past memories, put them in small box, locking them and hid them. Back then, he probably thought that he would never open that 'box' again and he would eventually forget its existence. But every time he get reminded of them, like in this date when he saw their names in reference he'd see the key of that 'box', reminding him of its existence.

Now, because of his encounter with her, he is gradually able to slow down, slowly understand his feelings and emotions. And so, he finally opened that 'box', went to the cemetery to see his parents and clumsily told them what he unconsciously always wanted to say, letting years of sadness and missing from losing them filled him. With this, he also slowly accept his every past self.

Like the fireworks after the long rain, his present self is alive and vibrant. Be it sadness or happiness, Lucien, I'm glad that now you can experience and accept both.

[thescrappyraccoon]

A few months ago, I had a run-in with an online chronic illness content creator (say that 10x fast! 😂). Their video was entirely inaccessible to anyone with visual or some neurological issues (especially those of us with migraines or seizures), and I very politely let them know.

In the past, I’ve been on the receiving end of that, and I appreciated the feedback, edited my post, and changed how I posted moving forward. In fact, since learning how online content can be inaccessible to many, I have intentionally followed creators who share helpful tips about increasing accessibility across platforms. Because **everyone deserves equitable access.** Sadly, this person’s response was extremely ableist.

Ableism is “a set of beliefs or practices that devalue and discriminate against people with physical, intellectual, or psychiatric disabilities, and often rests on the assumption that disabled people need to be ‘fixed’ in one form or the other” (Definition source: Center for Disability Rights).

Ableism reinforces messages like:

•Your needs are too much, or you’re just being difficult, lazy, etc.

•You aren’t welcome here. This space isn’t for you.

•If you’re still disabled or can’t access this resource, something is wrong with you that you aren’t working hard enough to fix.

But in addition to harming disabled folx, ableism harms *everyone.* If content is inaccessible to some people, guess who’s voice isn’t being heard in the commentary? It is a way of systematically silencing and exiling members of our community. That doesn’t mean it is always *intentionally silencing, but the impact is the same.

When people don’t have the opportunity to hear the voices of people groups who differ from them (for example, if neurotypicals never hear about the lived experiences of neurodivergent folx, if able-bodied people never see folx in wheelchairs, using assistive devices, etc, if white ppl never hear the experiences of people of color, etc) it’s easy to forget that those people groups exist, or take into account their differing experiences and needs, and especially their suffering. Content that is accessible to those with the most hurdles benefits *everyone.*

Disabled folx may be stuck at home for a variety of reasons. Often, online access may be the only access a person has. So let’s make it accessible to everyone. (And if my content or comments are ever inaccessible to you, please message me and I will make every effort to rectify the situation!)

If you see content online, ask yourself:

1. Who can and cannot access this content?

2. If someone can’t access the content, what does that mean for them? For the community as a whole?

3. Whose voices aren’t being heard bc of this inaccessibility?

Image descriptions:

All images have a cream colored square on top of a blue background. The bottom left of the slides have a watercolor paint splash and the blog name “the scrappy raccoon.”

Image 1: title slide with the words “Ableism in Accessibility”

Image 2: slide title is “Ableism”; below is the definition of the word of ableism (written in the caption above)

Image 3: screenshot of my original comment on the post in question which says “idk if anyone has mentioned this but it’s rally [sic] difficult for some of us with visual issues to read captions set over a short, quickly moving video. I would love to read the caption but it’s not accessible to me” followed my a sad emoji face.

Image 4: A screenshot of two of the creator’s responses which read “In fact, I’ve been disabled myself. Much worse than you currently” And “I don’t make content for people to stay sick. This is not a ‘chronic illness warrior’ page. I make content for people who want to heal and are doing so.”

Image 5: A screenshot of one of the creator’s responses to me which reads “As you don’t *have* to watch this one (if it’s a ‘hassle’ to click on it to read the caption- which I don’t see how it is). At the end of the day, this is my page too and I make decisions as to what type of content to make. Which (as it is now) will benefit the most people in fact and more will see it, as explained. But if I wanted to make content for the whole world and not want insta to promote it, I would make it so that it’s suitable precisely for that funding and only those people. Which would be fine too.

Image 6: A screenshot of the rest of the creators content which reads “because it’s my page. Clicking on a video to read is hardly not accessible. And again, even if it was…then that’s the kind of content *I* chose to have on my page. Have a great day!”

Image 7: Quote slide says “Inaccessibility isn’t a “hassle.” It is discrimination. And to refer to it as such is demeaning to those with accessibility needs.

Image 8: Slide title says “Questions to ask about online content:” The numbered list reads:

1. Who can and cannot access this content?

2. If someone can’t access the content, what does that mean for them? For the community as a whole?

3. Whose voices aren’t being heard bc of this inaccessibility?

Image 9: Quote on slide reads, “Making content and spaces accessible for those with the most hurdles to accessibility benefits everyone.”