#which. understandable. bc i fucked up big time. but also. this guy really knows how to be mean and he likes to be mean

[witchwhaat]

pray for me.

[gabrielapazlima]

Why do i ship Cuddlejump⚡️❤️

(Hoppy hopscotch x Bobby bearhug)

And how i see their dynamic being like!

if you guys follow me for a while you guys may already noticed my very normal adimiration for the ship between hoppy hopscotch and bobby bearhug from the smiling critters...its not like they are 90% of my art gallery and that i cannot shut the fuck up about this ship hahaha right?

well,yea,i really,really,REALLY like them- its a ship that i pratically came up with first than anyone and somehow other ppl ended up found of them....but why? Why does Gabriela da paz lima is so normally obcessed with the ideia of a green tomboy rabbit n a red carebear being a couple?

At fist you may think "Uhh it is probally because of the classic tomboy tough girl x soft girly girl archetype right?" and yea,i can see why ppl think that is a very famous lesbian ship dynamic i respect ppl that are solid into them bc of it.... but its deeper to me than that...first i want to talk abt hoppy n bobby's solo characters first!

Hoppy Hopscotch⚡️🐰

ngl when i entered this fandom she was like,my favorite...i still love her tho

she is basically the energetic tomboy of the group acording w her official descreptions,she is also know as THE big motivation force of the critters,always pushing them out their comfort and have a very adventuous n positive spirit-

BUT she have very noticeble characters flaws as well,not only she is quite loud but she tends to be bossy n really impatient,being described as someone that can be "handful to deal with",and before the book release she is literaly the only critters with her character flaws listed-

i always liked how her personality is kinda complexish in comparassion to other critters,she is clealy have a good heart,very loyal n likes to help the others (which we can see in her cardboard line) but she can come up as rough n "overwhelming" in the way that she does it,she doesnt have the intention of hurt or being mean but she still comes as rude due her lack of patience n understanding( cof cof autism) of ppl's limits-

i really like her i feel like she is SO underrated:( you guys have to STOP make her a bully,she is NOT like that.)

Bobby bearhug🐻❤️

i love bobby so much that is not even funny,she is my kin baby-

she seems to be the typical shallow love girl at first sight but...theres so much more abt this carebear....

in her descreptions she is basically the mom friend of the group,she is here to keep her friends together not matter what,she is very phisically affecionate,she is emotional inteligent being very patient n understanding ( which is kinda of what hoppy lacks 👀) n her compassion don't limits itself to only hed friends but to things,places n basically any living thing-

she seems to be pretty much the perfect girl right?...well yea almost....and then theres her voice lines that give a very tonal shift to her character....

"i love you to the moon and back!im CRAZY about you...im lost without you...i been lost a long time....please take me with you this time....you'won't leave,will you?!"

at first it seems some kinda yandere shit but reading more and more deep in that,it sounds so desesperate n sad tbh...i seems like she is not thay confident by herself n DEEPLY fears the abandoment...which is...very ironical for HER character...

"But these lines are about the bbis destiny" yea i know but these lines are ALSO reflected in their cartoon personalities,like kickin being scared n hoppy being impatient...it very likely that is ALSO linked to her canon personality as well...which also makes me think in what amber said about her...

Damn thats....so relatable...i always try my best to be there for other ppl but im always so hard to myself when i know that i should not....thats a perfect irony to the "love character"...

she does not have that much of strong will for herself,she does not love herself in the same way that she loves everyone...she feels weak and defenceless n unwanted being at her own because she doesnt feel enough...

fuck,im crying...They will NEVER make me hate you,bobby bearhug.

🐰⚡️About Hoppy n Bobby's relationship🐻❤️

you see...they are both are very complex girls that love to support people on their own distinte ways,hoppy is the more of phisical support crittet while bobby is the emotional support critter- they deeply care about their friends and they want see them trying news things...i would say that they both valorize support over anything,thats their main atribute-

but they are also deeply flawed in very different ways,hoppy is impatient,bossy n can come off as rude bc of her lack of caring side....also very reckless as consequence....(kinda the reason of why she died) Bobby is very emotional dependent which causes her to panic over the ideia of being alone n doesnt like trying to push herself to do anything when she is feeling too alone( that also can be the reason of why she died)...

they flaws n qualities...weidly compliment each other well...hoppy needs more emotional inteligence n more understanding,not only of other ppl's limits but her own limits.... Bobby needs strengh will and motivation due her deep insecurities and self loath,she can be stronger than she is at her own,and hoppy can show that to her-

i feel like they dynamic is really strong and be summarized as "Besides all our differences,we value the same thing and in the end of the day,i really need you"

i just REALLY love comprimentary duos + opposite atract sorry- call me basic bitch.

💚More of their dynamic plus personal headcanons❤️

i like to think that hoppy would be sighly unconfortable with bobby's affection fowards her at first but she is slowly beggins to enjoy it and reciprocate it-

i also like to think that they would be the ones to come up with the group's activities together,hoppy tries to do batshit insane stuff but bobby tones them down to be safier-(they MIGHT go into lil fights abt it)

also hoppy really enjoys bobby's anger/tough moments because she is surprising REALLY strong but she always never show it-

hoppy also tends to be emotional but she nevr shows it util bobby find it by her own and she ended uo breaking her tough girl persona in front of her(which of course bobby accepts)

Bobby,hoppy n kickin were kinda of a trio and they basically the over loving girl,the cool "chill" guy and the hyperative dumbass...it fits them...

i have a MILLIONS of stuff to say about them but i would be here forever sooo i hope you guys have enjoyed my yapping about cuddlejump:)

BYE!!!

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

[dekusleftsock]

I thought everyone was exaggerating when people kept bringing up the whole “bakugou says he’s Kacchan bc of kaminari” thing, but they actually believe that… what?

WHAT

Literally how do you guys function

AND THEY CALL ME DELULU???????

It’s such a stretch too. Like “oh yeah he said Kacchan no Bakugou in this movie” ITS NOT EVEN IN THE MANGA HELLO???

The whole reason Kaminari calls Katsuki Kacchan is because he’s making fun of him. It’s poking fun at the fact that Katsuki can’t say anything or get mad at Kaminari because then it would raise the question, “Well why can Midoriya say it?”

He literally side eyes him every time he does it but ultimately doesn’t react because he can’t. He can’t if he wants to keep up the act that he is uninterested in what Izuku represents, who he is.

SO WHY, IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK, WOULD IT BE KAMINARI?

WHO is present in this battle?

WHO is the person that made eye contact with him the second he woke up?

WHO is the one that grabbed his hand immediately upon Katsuki flinging himself towards them??

I don’t think THEY even believe it either, I think it’s just some way to cope and explain away the fact that this moment is inherently romantic.

Because I don’t think he’s making fun of the name Kacchan, I think he’s wearing it proudly. I don’t think it’s a joke at all. It’s a joke in the disbelieving way—the way you act when you’ve made an enormous accomplishment or won some prize, and you just can’t help but act absolutely insane at the fact. Because it’s funny that you’re here, in this situation. It’s hilarious in that disbelieving way.

Because he’s laughing at the truth, he’s been laughing at nothing this ENTIRE CHAPTER.

“Ouch! Haha! I’m so fast!”

“I can’t even stop! Ha! Ouch!”

Note: (I’m not using the official translations because for some reason they lack the maniacal crazed laughter and I’m confused as to why?? I even checked with pikahlua and they specified that there was laughing so…. I’m confused.)

What’s even weirder about this is the fact that afo also says (in pikahlua’s translations) “just who is this brat?!” Instead of “what is wrong with him” which implies less crazed bakugou ness imo. Confused as to why, again.

Because this can’t be happening.

Now, I know it could very well be him teasing afo and calling him dumb, saying basically “you’re too young/old to even know how to pronounce my name, use Kacchan instead like the child you are.” Especially since in the context of names like Katsuki’s, he has that tsu sound that can be hard for children to pronounce. (I’m not 100% on this but I’m pretty sure that the u sound is also meant to be silent since it’s a double consonant. So Katsuki’s name is technically pronounced “Ka-ts-ki”)

BUT IDK I THINK HES JUST FUCKED AND A LITTLE CRAZY RN!

That maniacal laughter at the fact that he’s in pain, the disbelief that he may even surpass Izuku, to me it’s holding a double meaning. The meaning that afo is dumb and needs to be treated like the child he is, and the meaning behind the fact that it’s a name Izuku owns for him. That’s his.

It can be both.

It’s not fucking Kaminari. It was never Kaminari. Even if you don’t read it as the second definition it’s still not about Kaminari.

But it’s also undeniable that it has to do with Izuku some way some how.

I also believe that the western side of the fandom is making an extra big deal out of this because, to us, we don’t really have a proper understanding of what a nickname like Kacchan means in its cultural context.

We can TRY to understand, comparing it to endings with ie or y given to children, and then sometimes going with that nickname into adulthood, but it still has its own distinct cultural context. Because a name like “Gracie” over “Grace” does to an extent sound childish, but I have a feeling that -chan has its own childish feeling. There’s a reason none of Katsuki’s other friends in middle school call him Kacchan, and there’s a reason Kaminari decides to make fun of him for the name in the first place.

I just think it’s important to use our thinking brains before we start yapping about things we don’t quite understand yet :)

Like it’s so unbelievably important to understand that horikoshi won’t tell you what’s happening in his story and why, he’ll show you instead BECAUSE HES A GOOD FUCKING WRITER

If it was about Kaminari, he would have specified, but he didn’t. He showed you that Kacchan is Izuku’s nickname for Katsuki, and he showed you that Katsuki cared more about Izuku than he let on for a long time. Just like he showed you that Izuku pushes down his emotions, showed you that Izuku struggles with projection and anger, showed you that Ochako was the one with this crush and not Izuku, and showed you that the feelings he had about Katsuki were deeper than anyone had realized.

He showed you parallels, he specified the important parallels that you absolutely had to see as a viewer (ex toga and ochako), just as he showed you the ones that were more subtle but still there (ex toga and deku). He showed you the pieces, and that doesn’t make his character’s underdeveloped or unspecified, that’s just how writing fucking works. “Good writing” DOESNT MEAN that you have to be pulled along through your baby steps with your hand held, the fact that you don’t get it is on you. Reading comprehension is a learned skill that has to be practiced over and over again, and that is not the writers job. The writer is only supposed to deliver you their story, and however you decide to misconstrue that story is, and hear me out friends, on you.

So I’m sorry if I’m tired of hearing arguments like “toga is a predator and Horikoshi wrote her to be horny”… she’s supposed to represent love. I’m sorry if the representation he made of love was uncomfortable for you, but maybe that’s the point? Because she’s an outcast? Because she’s supposed to be hard to empathize with, but that we have to empathize in the first place?

Arguments like “Katsuki was referencing a joke about Kaminari bc Kaminari said this in this movie” is just about the largest fucking reach I’ve ever seen. And I know, I know that when bkdk eventually get their implied or canonical ending that people are going to be mad. They’ll blame shippers for pressuring him, or they’ll say he’s a bad writer, or they’ll send him homophobic slurs because “how dare the character I see myself in be gay”. And I’m done with the stupidity and lack of common god damn sense.

So if you are going to be upset by the fact that you’re going to be proven wrong, then I again say, it’s on you.

[dizzyjelly]

You Deserve Better, I'm Better(18+)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Abbys dating Owen, and you hate him. But she doesn't like him all that much, either. You deal with the unreciprocated feelings until one night you come to find out, she really wants you.

Cw: Owen, toxic bf behavior, a little arguing, fem!reader, drinking, cheating, reader cries a little, smut, fingering(a!receiving), pussy eating(a!reciving), boob stimulation(both receiving.)

A/n: I love this one you guys!! Was so happy to write so much Owen slander bc let's bffr who likes Owen. Maybe he's not thst bad but he did cheat on his PREGNANT gf, like come on. Anyways I do NOT condone cheating but it's needed for the plot of this fic so yeah, hope yall enjoy.

You'd never understand what she saw in him. Sometimes you thought she didn't even know what she saw in him. At first, it was just because he was taking away your quality time with you best friend. But your feelings of jealousy slowly grew into something you weren't sure how to handle.

You didn't just want to be Abbys friend, you liked her. Let's be honest, you loved her. But there's no way she felt the same, she was with Owen after all. But why? He wasn't cute, nor did he have that great of a personality.

Maybe it was just because he played varsity football. Which still wasn't that great of a reason. Oh, well. At least she still made time for you.

Nothing was out of the norm until she started to favor you over him. Not that you were complaining, but his new passive aggressive attitude towards her bothered you. And he'd grown to dislike you, which was a big reason why she didn't hang around him as much. It was weird, he was her boyfriend after all.

However, even if it was puzzling to you, you weren't going to complain. In fact you enjoyed this new favoritism. It made you feel.. wanted. You wished she wanted you like you wanted her.

Tonight was the first varsity football game of the season. Abby was attending, obviously, and you joined her because well, she asked you to. Pleasee it'll be so boring if I go by myself, those were her exact words. She also complained about having to hang out with the other players girlfriends, who she has a strong distaste for.

"Feels nice to rest my feet." You sigh softly as everyone sat for the halftime show.

"Yeah.." Abby smiles over at you.

Your arms touched and your thighs were squished against one another due to how packed the bleachers were. It was fairly cold out so you shared a blanket Abby had brought. It rested on each of your shoulders and draped over one of your arms.

Curiously, your eyes drifted to the scoreboard. Your school was winning by three points, to which you cracked a smile. You weren't sure why because you didn't give a fuck about football, but it just felt nice. Abbys eyes however, never left you. She took the chance to admire you like some creep as you looked away. As you started to turn back she fixed her gaze to the field.

"Hey, we're winning." You tap her arm with the back of your hand.

"Oh, nice." She smiles at you.

Since the halftime show was beginning, the football players got to sit at the sidelines. Which really meant they all ran into the stands to say hi to their friends. You sighed and glared at Owen with annoyance as he approached you and Abby. Immediately he leaned down and took her chin in his hand, kissing her like his life depended on it.

And you wished it was you. You wanted to put your lips against hers, you wanted to hold her face in her hands. Fuck you even wanted to feel her tongue swirl against your own. You're pulled out of this trance as you notice Abby pushing him away and letting out a small groan.

"Fuck was that." Owen's voice is rough and he stares at you, like it was your fault.

"Sorry you're just- you're all sweaty. Kinda gross." She's quick to come up with an excuse.

"Whatever" he scoffs and rolls his eyes, God you hated him, "are you at least coming out with us after the game?"

"Can Y/n come?" Abby asks, looking over at you and smiling for the first time since Owen came over.

"Fine." He let's out a small sigh and looks your way once again.

"Then sure, why not?" She shrugs.

And thank God Owen left almost immediately after that. He'd never been a joy to be around, but lately it was like you could not stand him even if you tried. Abby just dismissed it, like always, saying he probably just had a bad day. You hated how she'd defend him.

Even so, you just let out a small sigh and ignored it. As much as you hated to hear it, you were Abby's best friend after all. Of course she'd tell you about her boyfriend. If only things were different. Then again, even if Owen was a good guy, you'd probably still be jealous. She deserved better, and you were better.

In the end, the opposing team won by fourteen points which left Owen and his teammates sulking. They all went to the locker rooms to get cleaned up, Abby got a text from Owen saying they'll meet you guys outside. She put her phone away and noticed you were shivering a bit.

She has folded the blanket and was carrying it, but she walked behind you and wrapped it around your shoulders. Then you blushed as she wrapped her arms around you and embraced you from behind. What was she doing? And it's like she read your mind, because before you could even ask, she said,

"Body heat." It was whispered right into your ear and you felt small puffs of her hot breath fan over your neck.

You gave in, you always gave in to her. Your hands wrapped around her arms and you leaned back into her. She didn't do stuff like this when you were out a lot. But no one was really around, just some of the other girls who'd be going out with you guys. And they wouldn't say anything, hopefully.

Disappointment filled your mind as the sound of boys clamoring could be heard and she stepped away from you. Her hand rested at your lower back right up until Owen was getting close enough to notice, then she kept her hands to herself. You frowned. It wasn't fair, he changed her.

The group of people you went out with, which consisted of Owen, three other football players, and their girlfriends, took a bunch of separate cars since almost all of you drove. Abby looked at you expectantly when Owen held her hand and wanted her to ride with him. You drove to the game together that night. You didn't know what she expected, were you supposed to tell her to go with you instead? It was awkward to say the least.

"I'll be fine, Abs. I know how to drive my car, go ahead with him." You nod.

Owen furrowed his brows with confusion. It's like she needed your permission or something.

"Okay, just- be safe." She settles on that and a pat to your shoulder.

You made your way to your car and Abby got into the passenger seat of Owen's. As you drove you listened to your favorite songs and only thought about her. Abby was not having as good of a time.

"What's up with you and Y/n?" He'd ask not even a minute after he started to drive.

"What does that even mean?" Abby asked in return, crossing her arms, "she's my best friend if you're asking what we are."

"Is she really? Why do you always hang out with her instead of me, hm." He looks over at her and she just stares blankly at him, "Yeah that's what I thought. Quit acting like she owns you, I'm your boyfriend."

Abby was silent. It was extremely painful because he was right. Not that she thought you owned her, or she acted like it, but still. She did favor you a lot and would do anything you asked. God why was she so stupid.

In all reality, Abby liked you way before she got with Owen. She just thought you were out of her league so she never went for it. But lately, she's felt that you might like her back. She hoped. But why did she want to be with you if she was with him. Owen never satisfied her, emotionally or sexually.

There was just something so intriguing about you. And she remembered all the hook ups you'd tell her about. How loud the girls always were. She wished it was her you were touching, her that you were making feel so good she couldn't help but scream.

Owen pulled into the parking lot of some diner and she was pulled out of her delightful fantasy. A sigh fell past her lips as she got out of the car, slamming the door shut and walking over to stand by the road and watch for you. Owen went inside to find his friends.

You pulled in and she smiled, walking over to your car. As you got out she looked into the diner, making sure she was out of Owen's view before she pulled you into a hug. Everytime she hugged you it was so.. intimate. Her arms would envelop you and she'd pull your body against hers.

"Missed me that much?" You'd tease, giggling softly.

"Shut up." She playfully shoved your shoulder as she pulled away.

You just shook your head softly then followed her inside. Everyone else was busy ordering, she sat in the booth and looked at you.

"Sit by me." She smiled.

"Of course, I have to use the bathroom first though I'll be right back." You nodded softly then headed to the bathroom.

When you returned to the corner booth, you were displeased to find it basically full and just a little room left for you on the end. Abby was sat between Owen and some black haired girl who laughed obnoxiously. She looked at you and frowned, mouthing a 'sorry' as you had to squeeze your way into a seat.

You waved your hand as to say 'it's fine' then you all began to eat. Abby felt bad, she just kind of sadly stared at you for the duration of the meal. You really didn't mind all that much. The only thing that really bothered you was seeing her with him. But you were getting used to that feeling now.

Dinner finally ended and everyone started to say their goodbyes. You kept an eye on Owen and Abby as they stood further away, he seemed to be asking her for something but she was giving him a very adamant no. When you saw how they acted sometimes, you wondered how they were even still together.

Eventually he gave her a small kiss then walked away, stomping and throwing the door open with frustration. He must've been really mad. Abby just rolled her eyes and walked over to you.

"You wanna stay over tonight?" She asks, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously.

"I'd love to, let's go." You walked out to your car and began driving to her house.

As she sat in the passenger seat, Abby felt relaxed. You were like a breath of fresh air for her. Nothing like him. She wished she'd just asked you out all that time ago. Maybe you would've said yes. But maybe not.

Once you got to her house, she announced that her parents weren't home. Something that might seem taboo, but really it just meant you'd raid their liquor cabinet. You'd each take a shot of vodka and scrunch your noses in disgust before sharing a beer, then another. Before Abby had the chance to offer a third, you suggested a movie and popcorn instead.

She threw some in the microwave then came to join you on the couch. You moved closer to her when she sat down, then your eyes scanned the room for the remote. It was on the side table next to Abby, so you leaned over her lap and rested your hand on the armrest to grab it. She took the chance to ogle at your ass, and your entire body really.

You stumbled back with a giggle as you fell onto her strong thighs, your chest pressing against them. Her breath hitched at the feeling of you, more specifically how the fat of your tits squished against her. Thank God the microwave beeped so she had an excuse to pull you up by your arms and get up. Surely there'd been a wet patch on her boxers by now. She felt sick.

Abby returned with a large bowl of popcorn and some chocolate as well. You gasped happily and thanked her as she set it down on the coffee table. She didn't bother asking what you wanted to watch, figuring you'll probably fall asleep anyways. She settled on a horror-comedy.

You grabbed the popcorn from the table and put it into her lap, taking a handful every now and then as you also ate some of the chocolate. Eventually you were full and now just rested your head on her shoulder, one of your hand wrapped around her forearm and the other just sat on your own thigh.

Her breath hitched whenever you'd move a bit and your hair would tickle her neck. She'd been this close to you before, so why was she acting like some horny teenage boy all of a sudden? She moved forward to set the nearly empty bowl of popcorn on the table and you sat beside her normally now.

"Can I lay my head in your lap?" You whispered, looking over at her as she sat back with some chocolate.

"Yeah.." She nodded, this was definitely a bad idea but how could she say no to you.

You smiled and moved so your feet tucked up on the couch and your cheek pressed against her thigh. You kept your hand rested on your stomach. Abby let out a quiet groan, then immediately focused on the TV as to not seem suspicious. You didn't notice anyways.

A few minutes later, you looked up at her with a goofy smile to point out that one of her favorite actors was on screen. Then you noticed she had some chocolate smudged at the corner of her lip. Without thinking, you sat up and leaned into her. One of your hands held her shoulder for stability as the other came to her cheek and your thumb swiped at the corner of her lip.

You could feel it wetten slightly as you weren't the most coordinated and the tip accidently slipped between her lips. She froze, until she didn't. Before you could even remind her she had a boyfriend, her lips were on yours and she was pulling you into her lap.

But all you could think was that this didn't mean anything good. You were both tipsy, maybe she didn't even mean it. Maybe she just did it because she knew she could. Your insecurities got the best of you and instead of continuing the sloppy kisses Abby pulled away as she felt your tears falling onto her own face.

"Oh god.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- are you okay?" She apologizes, thinking you didn't want to kiss her.

"Yeah.. no. I just- why are you even kissing me? You have a boyfriend Abby." She blushed.

"I don't care about him." She sighed, resting her forehead against yours and holding your face in her hands while simultaneously wiping at your tears.

"Y/n.. I've wanted you forever. Long before I even met that asshole. I just thought I never had a chance but lately, I thought maybe I did." She explains and you felt so many different things.

I mean you believed her, you really did. And you really wanted to kiss her again, you wanted to do more than kiss her. You smiled, kissing her cheek softly.

"Abby. Of course you have a chance, you always had a chance." You whisper.

After you made out on the couch some more, during which she grabbed your ass quite a bit and let her strong hands run across your body. It wasn't long before she was carrying you into her bedroom and laying you down.

Now she kissed down your body, looking up at you as she pushed at your shirt. You took it off and let out small moans when she started to kiss at and grope your tits. How was she so good at this? Your hands found their way to her hair, tugging at her tight braid and causing her to let out a groan and crack a smile.

As Abby kissed down to your waistline, she looked up at you. You bit your lip and motioned for her to come up closer. She did so, her arms caging you in on either side and loose strands of her hair tickling your face. You leaned up to whisper in her ear.

"I wanna show you first.. wanna show you how good I'll make you feel.." You wanted to sound strong, but your voice was whiny and needy.

Abby didn't seem to care though because her breath hitched and she nodded quickly, laying down beside you.

"Please. Show me.." She whispered, looking over at you.

First your lips traveled from her own, down to her jaw and neck. Then her collarbones. And you swore you could've come just from the sight of her topless. You spent quite some time on her tits, which was mostly self indulgent but she still enjoyed it. Finally you kissed down her sternum all the way to her lower belly.

She couldn't believe the sight of you when you looked up at her with your chin resting on her clothed heat. Your fingertips rested at the waistband of her cargo pants and she nodded. You unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down agonizingly slow, she wad growing impatient as her hips unintentionally bucked up into your grip.

Once you removed her pants, her legs spread for you almost instantly. You groaned at the sight of the wet patch on her boxers, you couldn't help it as you moved forward to kiss it gently a few times.

"P-please.. take them off.." now she was the whiny one.

"I got you Abs.." You nod and remove her boxers, and it was definitely a sight to see.

Her slick had gathered all around her lips and if you focused enough you might be able to see her clit throb. You bit your lip as you ran your finger through her slick folds, then licked it clean.

"God you're so fuckin sexy.." You'd whisper before diving in.

Your lips wrapped around her clit and you flicked your tongue over it at a fast pace. She squirmed a bit at first, so you took hold of her thighs and kept them in place. Her moans were music to your ears, and when she'd moan your name, let's just say you could die happy.

Eventually you began to tease her hole with your middle finger, slipping it in and curling up in a way no one else ever could. She gasped when you added another finger and continued these movements.

"Shit, that feels so good.." She panted.

"Yeah?" You tease, removing your mouth from her but continuing to curl your fingers inside her, "I bet I fuck you better than him, don't I?" A rhetorical question of course.

"Yes!" She moaned loudly, just wanting you to suck at her clit again.

For the time being you but your thumb to it instead and rubbed tight circles.

"Say it." You whispered, looking up at her.

She looked so beautiful. Her eyes squeezed shut with pleasure and her lips glossy and fallen open. The way her eyebrows also creased made you want to eat her out forever.

"You fuck me bett-" She cut herself off with a loud moan as you hit thst sweet spot inside her, "so much better than him.." She finally whined.

Satisfied, you removed your thumb and began to suck at her clit again. Her moans grew louder and you could feel her clench around your fingers, she was close. She wanted to tell you, but she was too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a coherent sentence. That didn't matter though, because you knew.

When she did finally cum, it felt so amazing. Sure she'd finished on her own before, but never like this. She called out your name and her hand tangled in your hair as you didn't stop going.

"I already came.." She whispered to you, you looked up at her and pulled off her cunt for a moment.

"I know, how about one more for me?" You asked, she could see how some of her release glistened your chin and blushed.

"Mhmm.." She hummed and you kept going.

While it was supposed to be one more, it was really two. You wanted to go for another but the way Abby could barely catch her breath had you finally letting her rest. Carefully, you moved up beside her and laid your head on her bare chest. One of your hands stroked her thigh gently as her legs still trembled a bit from the third orgasm.

She put her arm around you and leaned her head against your own. You smiled then let out a small sigh as you sat up.

"Come on, you gotta pee." You spoke softly to her.

She just nodded and you walked to the bathroom with her, washing your hands in the sink as she did her business. After she was done you returned to her room and she changed into new boxers and an oversized t-shirt.

"What about you?" She'd whisper once the two of you settled back into bed, her arms wrapped around your back as you laid your body weight across her.

"Don't worry, you can take care of me next time." You whisper back as you nuzzled your face against her neck and brought one of your hands to rest on her chest.

She ran her fingers through your hair as you started to fall asleep. Then once she was sure you were out, she whispered.

"I love you." She let her own eyes fall shut and drifted off to sleep within minutes.

But you weren't asleep yet, you heard her. And all you could do was smile.

[intergalactic-garbage]

octavian wet cat headcanons

@odysseus-crewmate-number38 and i have decided that there has been enough of rick's writing which transparently only made octavian an object onto which to project hate, rather than a character. because i am the sexiest and smartest person on the planet, i understand octavian better than rr, and know that what he is actually meant to be is a traditionally queer-coded, camp, homosexual villain, who enjoys being a villain immensely. the following are a compilation of ody and mine's absolutely true and fully verified octavian facts (he told me):

his little augur rituals are like drag performances

in which i don't means he dresses up in drag but rather that he's exaggerated and dramatic

he does the thing where he rubs his grubby little hands together

he's the type to say "well well well look what the cat dragged in"

light in the office opens dramatically as octavians spinny chair turns to the door

’i’ve been expecting you’

he’s done this 12 times already

he says the same name of. the person who hes been expecting. he eventually is right

WHY does octavian's wiki page say his ancestors are VENUS, JUPITER (also apollo obviously) and. a bunch of mortal guys like hercules? what the fuck. guy must be so inbred

his ancestory is just the olympus family tree

but i mean he's a legacy of venus so that explains everything. he's just suffering from a terminal amount of prettyboy syndrome

octavian would wear so much gold. 90 pounds soaking wet 138 pounds with all his robes and jewelery on

he'd get things covered in gold leaf just because he can

his closet takes up the space of like three entire barracks of the cohort

‘where did the funding for the new buildings in camp jupiter go’ . new suspiciously closet shaped building implemented:

BRO COMMITS EMBEZZLEMENT JUST SO HE CAN BUY NEW OUTFIT

not that he doesn't already have enough money. he just likes doing it like this

nobody else is allowed to touch his clothing though. high treason actually

one of his henchmen (bryce) can bc he knows exactly how to handle it and which setting on the washing machine to use with which detergent

oh he’d watch the devil wears prada and base his personality on the boss from that movie

his room has a shrine dedicated to meryl streep actually .reyna accidentally walks in on him once and sees him praying to her. they never talk about it

octavian could deify miranda if he tries hard enough

oh my goddd. do you think his biggest internal conflict during hoo would be "can a girl like me really have more than ONE evil henchman?"

how is he going to strut down the halls in an iconic triad formation if he only has ONE henchman . he has to follow in his ancestors footsteps (heather chandler, chanel oberlein, regian george-)

his henchman no1 is michael kahale, son of venus, who's canonically fit as fuck and pretty close to octavian, headcanonically a gayboy who rolls his eyes and sips his starbucks drink waaaay too loudly when people he doesn't like are talking (he does this in the senate meetings)

his henchman no2 is bryce lawrence, legacy of orcus, god of punishment, who was canonically banished from camp jupiter bc he killed someone, but in boo, octavian takes him back. he's supposed to be really big and burly, with some "traditionally unattractive" traits (which i've decided to allow, as long as michael and octavian call them pretty in a totally infatuated way)

edit: someone said that since he doesn't have a last name, it should be octavian gallo (since it means rooster), and i'm making that canon now

[corviiids]

back in your asks unfortunately you can’t get rid of me. i’m going to keep enablign you.

you bringing up the kr version of hurricane and the martyr complex light has in it is great bc what fascinates me about hurricane as a song is how radically different it is in different languages? as we all know in the manga light has this horrible visceral reaction to what he’s done. he looks like he’s gonna be sick when he has that guy hit by a truck. when ryuk turns up he admits that he’s been losing weight and barely sleeping. but the musicals differ so massively in how light is portrayed? because in english light seems to have this very strong sense of justice from the start - in where is the justice he denounces the corporations corrupting the legal system and asks “how can we turn away and say that’s just the way things are?” and then in hurricane he hardly seems upset at all by what he’s done. he seems vaguely surprised at how easy it was and then turns around and sings about how he’s got this insanely strong, perfect, untraceable power that he’s going to use to deliver righteous retribution. BUT then the jp versions of witj and hurricane are much less certain and light seems more horrified and then hopeful. the focus is on creating a perfect world, not necessarily punishment. he’s more a glass half full kinda guy. and then it changes AGAIN in the kr. it’s so fascinating he is a completely different version of himself in all three versions and i just need to ask. what are your opinions on this. am i making this up. do you understand how my brain is firing

you are NOT making this up and i DO understand how your brain is firing. listen. listen. in that same post about light/achilles (intertextual comparison not ship) (although?) and prompted by a response from someone else cool i reposted these tweets (which you have literally just seen because i shoved them at you but ill post them again so everyone can see)

to me it is like, very key that every iteration of light yagami SEEMS really different. in their behaviour, their values, what it takes to push them to acting and how they react, etc - obv you've brought up light as he appears in the three most well known languages the musical exists in, but i also am a huge fan of comparing his animanga self (already two different iterations to an extent) with the tv drama, which has maybe the most distinctive version of light out of all of them and which i BELIEVE? drew criticism? but i am not 100% because i was not here for this because i watched death note for the first time in fucking february. because i am hip with the kids. #rad

anyway this is part of a much larger ramble of mine that i am not really doing justice here but i actually really like that that version of light is so incredibly different - and yet he really isnt, somehow, because he ends up not only at the same ending but recognisable as the same person. that's what i think is so interesting! these differences are undeniably there and they're BIG - as you said, between musicals he ranges from being a vengeful guy on a power trip to being an idealist with a martyr complex, and you'd think those are two totally different sets of core values. between animanga vs tv drama he goes from being this cool and collected hyper prepared cynical idealist to being a depressed nihilist who's working extremely hard to shed his own ability so he doesn't have to deal with the pain of caring. again, these seem, and factually are, completely different sets of values.

and yet they're actually perfectly reconcilable. every iteration of light no matter how distinct and no matter how much their core values seem to oppose or contradict each other ends up reconciling into the same guy partway through the story, where all of these different directions he's been going in all converge. his priorities even out - regardless of if it was the power trip that came first or the desire for the perfect world, they balance ultimately and coexist. regardless of whether his idealism led him to bitter radicalisation or nihilism, they also balance ultimately and coexist. is light affected by his first murder? yes - how does it show it? that differs, but none of the lights are actually deluded enough to think that murder is good. they all think it's bad but defensible and justifiable and then visibly cope with that fact in different ways. light looks like a VERY different man depending on which of his values are being pushed to the fore in a given interpretation, but all that really does is serve to spell out exactly how complex he is internally once you watch them all converge at around similar points in the story, even when at the barest and most uncharitable interpretation he just looks like a maniacal serial killer with a delusional god complex. this is why i like him so much unfortunately

also none of this applies to netflix light who is irreconcilable and irredeemable. and white

[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.  

[deep-space-lines]

Literally I don't understand how the Ultrakill devs managed to make a game with a pretty bare minimum in plot/dialogue/characters and have it be the queerest-feeling piece of mainstream media I've consumed in what feels like forever

Like my other favorite video game ever is Mass Effect, and when I play the Mass Effect trilogy, games with plenty of gay romance and gay sex in it if you seek it out (don't get me wrong, it has its ups and downs with queer rep overall but overall I would consider it Pretty Good in the gay/lesbian/bi rep category) I'm like 'yaaay gay people :)))' and it makes me happy. None of the wlw romance options really appeal to me personally (though Garrus is a queer romance option to me bc you're banging an alien, no I will not elaborate) but it's like, a nice view of the future where homophobia doesn't exist and you can just be in lesbians with a blue not-really-woman and it's not a big deal. And I really love that! Makes me happy!

But then I play Ultrakill, which technically has 0 gay sex or romance in it (that we see. and even that could be argued but that's not the point here), and start emotionally foaming at the fucking mouth throwing up. Like both are Really Good but Something about Ultrakill just resonates so viscerally with me I think it altered my brain chemistry. I don't know what they put in this game that made it hit the exact resonant frequency of some queer freak part of my brain but it fuckin' did something. It just blows my mind how much Ultrakill managed to make me feel with (comparatively) so little compared to other media I enjoy (Mass Effect, Star Trek, etc). I got this game like 3 weeks ago thinking it would just be a fun shooter game where I play as a silly little robot guy, and instead since then I've made more art inspired by it in a shorter time than like? Anything I've ever played/watched/read before?? Did they put gay cocaine in here??????????

(I don't say this in an attempt to pit them against each other or even really compare them btw Mass Effect is still one of my absolute favorite games of all time and they're completely different genres with a completely different ethos behind their worldbuilding and character development)

But like. What the fuck. I don't know how I would explain to someone like my mother that whatever Ultrakill has going on feels gayer to me than like actual gay porn bc I feel like it makes me sound insane but also I'm right

[pray4saint]

hihi i'm here to pick that massive brain of yours 😼

can we have some headcanons (or anything really) of george having a crush on a popular streamer!reader and maybe all his friends tease him about it bc he's just so smitten and has negative rizz around them? (sorry if this is basic but I can't get the idea out of my mind)

smitten

masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. popular streamer!reader. fluff. george pining after reader. bsf!larray bc i felt like it. use of 'y/n'. swearing.

a/n. this has been rotting in my inbox for almost 3 weeks soooo here we are lmaoo. started writing 8/26/23, finished writing 8/29/23. crazy right??

”heeyy guys– oh fuck.” those were the first words george ever heard you say.

george had heard your twitch handle – your username – float around twitter for awhile since you had another big project coming up. but the first time he saw you was in larray's newest youtube video. you'd opened the door to the room larray was pacing around in, talking into this phone's microphone, and you had two coffees in hand. ”heeyy guys– oh fuck.” the cut off was when one of the coffees spilled a little bit out of the lid and onto the floor. larray let his jaw fall slack, looking between the camera and the floor by the entrance. ”oh bitch how did that happen?”

”shut up.” you start, stepping over the spill to put the coffees down on his desk. ”do you have paper towels?” and then the video cut to him driving alone in his car, singing along to another song as he did almost ritualistically during these cuts.

it was that video that sent george down the rabbit hole. it started with your youtube channels, your main which was mostly your shortened streams and those very rare vlogs you did with friends. almost two hours had gone by when he realised just how long he'd been watching your videos and laughing every few minutes because you had said something funny, or you added to a joke someone else had started.

then there was your twitch, which had him travelling over to your twitter, and after reading like ten of your tweets, he followed you. after shaking his head and closing twitter, he found himself scrolling through your instagram. starting with the most recent, which he liked, that was safe enough, and he just kept going, at least until one of his roommates knocked on his door, and he accidentally liked a really old post. it was late and he didn't understand what could possibly be so important.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

george didn't bother telling any of his friends about you as he didn't feel it was necessary. ping. that was weird. george could've sworn he'd silenced his phone. then again, this wasn't his stream and he could afford to check it right then.

twitter – 1 new notification @ yourusername followed you back!

his lips parted, a heavy exhale leaving him. it was weird, but he smiled at it. ”ooooh george, what's, or who's got you smilin' over there?” sapnap half-turned around in his chair, wiggling his eyebrows at his roommate. george's eyes snap up to his friend. ”uh, what?” sapnap just sort of laughs it off and goes back what he was doing prior.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

”hi george, i'm y/n.” you extended a hand out to the brit and after what felt like forever, he put his hand in yours and shook. ”hi.” was the only word he could manage out. as much as he wanted to make a good first impression, the only thing he could do when he looked at you was smile. it was something easily picked up by the rest of the group; sapnap, dream and larri. there were shared looks between the three, ones neither you or george saw.

you'd of course heard of the dream team, they were popular streamers, but you'd also heard about them from larri, who knew them a quite a bit better than the internet did.

larri was the first to speak up to get everyone back on track, to record the video. ”anyways so–”

god, george was a goner for you, and he didn't even really know you. at least not yet.

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[trickstarbrave]

I will give you a shiny quarter if you explain Morrowind to me like I’m five (pretty please)

its is quite difficult given i dont know how complex of topics 5 year olds can understand. but i can try to explain it in the most simple way possible because i explain it regularly to one of my roommates and wife who do not understand elder scrolls lore at all. be warned: this is still gonna be long and weird bc the story is long and weird.

(also excuse the swearing i wouldnt swear like this to a 5 year old)

a long long times ago, some 3000+ years before the game actually starts, there was a dude named nerevar. he made friends with some dwarves (dwemer) who lived underground and united the whole country of resdayn (later renamed to morrowind) to drive out the nords who had taken over. he also had a rly cool ring named moon-and-star, which was magic and let you be really persuasive, but he also enchanted it to kill anyone besides him wearing it so it couldnt be misused. this is relevant later

well he married the queen almalexia and made a big council of important people mostly made up of his buddies. he called it the first council and important people on it were his bestie voryn, his wife almalexia, and two younger friends sotha sil and vivec, along with the king of the dwemer dumac and dumac's mage kagrenac (the dwarves use weird magic with sound. if i go into details this will get very confusing).

for like 200 years because elves live for a long time, everything was pretty alright.

but it turns out the nords were there for a reason. they were looking for the heart of a dead god. the god's name for the sake of the story is lorkhan, but different places call him different things like shor or shezzar. the nords worshipped lorkhan and wanted to bring him back or something (probably, or at least just find it because hey thats their guy). but after 200 years of peace the dwemer found it underground in a volcano they lived in. and kagrenac had an Idea

the idea was to build a really cool really powerful giant robot mecha god (because the dwemer were really steampunk) to protect them. and it would be powered by the heart lorkhan.

voryn, nerevar's bestie, ended up finding out about this and told nerevar "hey the dwemer are up to something weird". and nerevar went "huh? they are?" and went to ask his goddess, azura, who knows a lot of things. azura said "yeah they are. stop them. what the fuck" and so nerevar went to his other bestie dumac.

and nerevar told dumac "hey why the fuck are you building a giant robot god?" and dumac's reply was "nerevar what the fuck are you talking about?" and nerevar, being mad his friend was Lying to him (maybe dumac didn't know. we dunno) because he already had multiple people confirm they were in fact doing that, he told dumac their friendship was over and kicked him off the first council and they went to war.

the details here get fuzzy. the nords showed up and joined in. the dwemer had steampunk robots everywhere. cat people showed up because why not. there were orcs there too. it was a big clusterfuck and there were different accounts of what happened. some people say voryn was fighting alongside the dwarves. some say he was fighting with the nords. some say he was fighting alongside nerevar. its hard to tell.

but most accounts have one thing kind of in common that a lot of the fandom agrees on: kagrenac grabbed their three cool tools to control the heart of a god, banged on it really hard, and then every single dwemer (except for one who was on holiday) vanished in an instant. and everyone was pretty confused by that, not really knowing what else to do. they now had a giant robot, the heart of a god, and 3 tools to wack the heart with to make weird shit happen.

so nerevar, unsure, said "hey voryn watch the tools for me." and left voryn with the tools and the heart. voryn said they should just destroy the tools, but nerevar wanted a few different opinions before just chucking them in lava or whatever. but while he was gone voryn started fucking around with the tools and the heart to see what would happen.

nerevar asked his buddies. almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil said they can use the tools to help resdayn/morrowind. nerevar didnt know if that was a good idea or not, so he asked azura. azura said "fuck no, dont ever do that". so nerevar made his friends pinkie promise him on azura's behalf not to use the tools on the heart.

and then again the accounts get weird here. some say nerevar died in battle against the dwarves/nords. some say voryn killed him. some say his friends (almalexia, vivec, and sotha sil) killed him. but regardless nerevar and voryn died. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec had the tools. and they decided to use them on the heart and became gods.

this pissed azura off. they pinkie promised. what the fuck. so she made all the elves that lived there into dark elves. almalexia, sotha sil, and vivec became known as the tribunal and said "we dont need you anymore azura fuck off" and became living gods who could help their people and preform miracles! though they needed to take the tools up to red mountain and recharge their batteries on the heart regularly. azura tells them "nerevar will be back one day and beat all your asses" and made a whole prophecy about it called the nerevarine prophecy (reincarnations get the name+'ine' tacked on in the elder scrolls)

also the tribunal destroy voryn's house/family, the sixth great house of morrowind, house dagoth. just destroy it all. kill a bunch of ppl and the others kinda go somewhere else if they lived. because they sided with voryn or whatever and were deemed traitors

a bunch of other shit happens. septim empire rises to the throne. vivec trades the not working robot to tiber septim who makes it work with a bootleg wish version of the heart of a god and takes over. more time passes. its now the third era and its been 3500 years.

the protagonist is a prisoner who is released from their sentence in morrowind because the current emperor wants to use the prophecy to keep a better hold on morrowind politically. the protagonist was chosen because part of the prophecy is being born under a specific astrology sign and not knowing who your parents are. which could be anyone but y'know.

so the protag/nerevarine has to do a bunch of shit and finds out through weird dreams, oh hey, voryn's back. he's calling himself a god and dagoth ur now. asking nerevar to call him back, go grab the tools, and come meet him at red mountain. also maybe get married to or hook up with him or something. nerevarine thinks that's weird and ends up finding out dagoth ur has also unleashed a plague onto morrowind which turns you into scary eldritch monsters. and then one of dagoth ur's minions infects you with it.

nerevarine finds a cure which makes you not go insane and not turn into a big scary monster. but leaves all the cool shit of "you cant catch any other disease" and "you will never age". the never aging and getting diseases thing was also part of the prophecy. cool.

then the nerevarine needs to go to the nomadic ashlanders who live up north where theres a bunch of ash (hence the name) and worship azura (and the two other og gods) and ask all four tribes to name them nerevarine. they all think youre stupid because an outlander (someone not born and raised in morrowind) cant be the nerevarine. but you find an original copy of the prophecy and go "nuh-uh, i can be" and also go find the moon-and-star ring only nerevar can wear. then they go "well shit" and have you go a bunch of quests and then decide you're cool enough to be nerevarine.

then the nerevarine goes and convinces the three great houses you can talk to (the other two are on the mainland) to name you hortator, which is a war lord/classic roman definition of dictator, and it was the title nerevar had. you do some stuff, kill some guys, boom--named hortator.

then vivec hears about this and calls you in and says "well i guess you are the one doing the prophecy huh. look i need you to kill dagoth ur he's dangerous. here's our plan, are you in? i can give you one of the tools of kagrenac, you need to get the other two from dagoth ur's goons, and then kill dagoth ur's weird brothers he has put his power into. then bang on the heart with the tools and cut him off". vivec then teaches the nerevarine how to use the tools.

you can also just like. kill vivec and take the tool. you wont know how to use it tho and if you use it wrong you will take so much damage you die really fast. if you do this you can go to the only living dwarf who also has that disease but hasnt lost his mind and ask him how to use it and he'll be like "UHHHHHH i'll see what i can. fucking do i guess. i didnt make this." and he'll jerry rig it for you.

then you can kill voryn's brothers or not (you'll need to kill at least 2 for the other tools) and then march up to red mountain. dagoth ur will then be like "yo. are you really nerevar?" and you can say yeah or no or idk. and then have a conversation. and then you fight. but after you kill him he's not really dead, so you gotta run up and start wacking that heart while he yells at you to knock it the fuck off. and then he's cut off from the heart, you run away, and he falls in lava and dies.

and then azura shows up and goes "hey thanks man i have some other shit for you to do though". after which you can do some other content or play the dlc.

thats morrowind baby

[queerbatboy]

Jegulus drabble, maybe a minific?

Thinking about Biker James Potter... him and Sirius would be really into motorcycles and i can totally see them being besties who post abt their bikes like they're actual ppl.

ALSO besties Remus and Regulus who like to meet at the local cafe that Lily owns and gossip about books and people walking by when James parks outside to grab some coffees and pastries on the way to meet up with Sirius-

Remus and Reg are doing one of their favourite activities which is judging passerby's as potential dating options because Regulus is always whining about being lonely and hating seeing happy couples bc eww 🙄🙄[Remus is just as bad, only less vocal abt it.] When James walks in, Regulus is immediately VERY unsubtle about looking him up and down. Remus is now judging him bc "Mate you cant even see his face."

"Shut up. just the other day you got a glimpse of some guy at the club and have been waxing poetic about him since. i mean, honestly? all you saw was some black curly hair and a leather jacket dude."

"That's different! there was something about him i swear! and his dancing; oh the way he moved was fucking sinful you dont understand-"

"Yeah yeah i get it he looked like an angel who moved like a devil; you've told me a million times in the past 48 hours I swear. -Wait shut up shut up hes taking off the helmet look!"

"Oh? yeah i guess hes good looking, pretty face. not really my type though" Remus looks over to Regulus whose jaw is now hanging open while his eyes look as if they'll fall out of his skull if he strains them any further. "Reg, you're drooling."

"Am not."

"You so are. Go ask him for his number" Remus nudges Regulus, trying to get him to go over to the counter where James was.

"Fuck no. i'm not just going to go over there and talk to him! 'oh hi i've been staring at you since you came in because you're so hot i feel like i'm going to die if you don't look at me' i mean are you kidding?? Remus? rem- NO. nonononono don't you DARE! oh i'm going to fucking kill you."

Remus calls out and waves at James to come over, smiling at him. "Hey, my friend here was wondering what model your bike is, it looks sick."

Regulus is so fucked. Not only is the handsome stranger even hotter now that he's facing them, big brown doe eyes looking at Regulus with curiosity and, maybe, interest? shit. But the gorgeous stranger is looking at him, waiting for him to say something, and Regulus knows absolutely fucking nothing about motorcycles.

should i continue this? definitely not my best writing as its just me getting thoughts out of my head but oh boy does this AU have a chokehold on me. I'm also thinking artist reg for this au, because duh, ofc im projecting onto him. not sure what remus is doing with his life tho... open to suggestions.

Ps. btw in this AU sirius and regulus are still brothers, but they don't talk much and havent really seen eachother in a few years after a big argument about how sirius left him alone with their parents as a teenager etc.

[hella1975]

hiiii haha. hello. exceptionally awkward introduction bc idrk how to start something like this so let's just jump right in. im taking a break from this account for a bit. i know i said i wanted taob out before halloween and currently im fine sticking with that deadline, but if i decide i need longer away then i will take longer away. every time ive reassured people that id never abandon a fic and updates will always come eventually i never once considered that my writing and ability to feel safe and comfortable on this site would be actively taken from me, so im not even going to apologise. i dont want this either and more importantly i dont fucking deserve it. i dont know what it is in the past year, if ive hit a certain amount of followers or 'popularity' that's made it so the natural ratio of positive to negative interactions must in turn go up, but there's been a serious uptick in weird asks for me. the annoying part is that a very small amount of them are actually objectively mean and hateful, the rest are just weird and invasive from people who seemingly dont realise that's what they're being. ive reached a point where i dont care if the intentions are good. it's not my job as a 20 year old tumblr user of all things to defend the morality of someone who couldnt even bother to come off anon. unfortunately, after blocking only one or two anons, the weird asks have decreased substantially, which says all you need to know about the fascinating and exhilarating lives led by these people, but ive also gone on to turn anon asks off entirely. this is something i actively fought against doing and had to be pushed into by my mutuals (who have been the coolest people on planet earth during this entire thing). turning off anon was a big deal to me even if it sounds silly. i felt betrayed and like id been backed into a corner because it was so vehmently something i DIDNT WANT that to feel like i had to do it anyway for my own mental health??? that sucks. so even though ive 'fixed' the problem, im still kind of reeling and uncomfortable every time i come on tumblr. i hope it's just something i need time to ease because i'll truly be devastated if this becomes 'ruined' for me. tumblr exists as the only place in the world where i am honestly every facet of myself without shame or hesitation; losing that would be insanely harmful to me. and to the people who cant appeal to the actual human behind the post, let me put that in words you can understand: we wouldn't get any more writing 😦😦😦 riots and fires and sirens, i know. so yeah. to anyone who has sent me an anon ask and you're now wondering if you were part of the problem, im firmly of the belief that you'll know if you are. when i say 'weird asks' i dont mean 'you sent me a para about your personal life just to vent or ask for advice' or 'you sent me a really deep emotional compliment about the impact me and/or my writing has had on you' - i love asks like that, so much that i put off taking a break and turning off anon solely for the joy they bring me. im sorry that it might feel like you're being punished too bc of the actions of what in reality is a HANDFUL of weird people, but this is what i feel like i have to do to feel safe and not go insane every time i log in. love you guys, hopefully ill see you soon x

[nereidprinc3ss]

so um, you’ve probably have been asked this many times but how do you start writing fanfic without cringing at yourself? i already feel silly for reading it. i noticed you have gained recognition outside of tumblr which i believe to be an achievement but i can’t allow myself to go through that.

i work in the finance sector at a big american firm, i can’t have my coworkers knowing i’m writing fanfic. i already get teased for watching disney animated films (which it’s not that bad) how do you deal with this? ik you’re still at college and ofc, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid but i bet you know what i mean? do you have some advice on this?

⚠️me not shutting the fuck up and getting way too personal below the cut

honestly at first i DID cringe at myself. i cringed so much that after posting my first fic in like november i dont think i posted again til january because i was writing and would just get so humiliated despite being alone and no one knowing who i was or what i was doing LOL but honestly the way i got over that was just to do it more because i truly love writing and why would i let feeling “cringe” stop me from doing something i love and that makes me happy? that would be so heartbreaking, life is hard enough, we deserve to do things we love and are passionate about without judging ourselves so harshly

as for not letting other people know well yeah i just don’t tell my friends or anyone ik in real life that i write fanfic lol, they know i love to write and they know im obsessed with spencer reid but that’s as much as i’ve told them! i know it’s a thing that maybe most people would consider “weird” but as someone who has a crushing fear of intimacy this is kinda my outlet lmfao. and it made me feel really insecure and weird at first but then i realized like… i try to be kind and caring and thoughtful, i have a lot of good qualities and the fact that i write fanfic doesn’t actually detract from any of them. it also helped for me to accept the reason why i write fanfic which is (and we’re abt to get real personal) i’m deeply afraid of intimacy of any kind and always have been so writing fiction abt the stuff i’m too scared to do isn’t a bad thing. there are a lot of people who wouldn’t understand it but they don’t have the same experiences as me and i don’t need them to understand it because i know that they never could. like they don’t understand what it’s like to so terrified of being known by another person that you obsess over the hottest guy in your school district for six months bc you want the validation of him liking you back and you do everything in your power to make him like you and then when he actually does reciprocate you immediately start icing him out to the point where he says hi at a party and you ignore him to his face cause you’re so afraid of men😂😂😂😂😂 they don’t get those vibes!!!

anyway basically you just have to remember that you’re doing it for you and it actually doesn’t mean something is WRONG with you if you enjoy writing and the safety and control that fiction offers you. it just means you’re one of billions of people living an entirely unique experience, just like anyone else, and honestly i think it makes you interesting. having hobbies and passions is rlly sexy and cool, regardless of what they are, and you deserve to do stuff you like doing. if anyone else is giving you shit abt it it’s probably because they genuinely don’t understand what it’s like to have interests and that makes me feel bad for them lol

[alpaca-clouds]

Some more mythology geekery

Or: Let me talk Pan. (Or the other god I know a lot about.)

Folks found the stuff about old mythology and Persephone interesting... so let me do Pan. So, as I said: Persephone is a very old goddess who might well be one of the first in the Greek pantheon. But... She is not as old as Pan. Because within Europe Pan might in fact be the oldest god that we know about. In fact he very probably predates the ancient Greek religion and was just so popular, that the Greeks just decided to keep him in the pantheon.

How do we know that?

This is the moment, where this geeky twink squeals with excitement, because he gets to talk about proto-indo-european stuff. So, allow me for a moment: SQUEEEEEEEEE! 🥳

Okay. That needed out.

So, what you need to understand is that most mythologies from Europe, Asia and Northern Africa you know about are actually decendents of the same mythology. Talked about this in regards of the Roman Gods not being the Greek Gods. But... yeah. So, there was once this culture, who we call the Proto-Indo-Europeans and they had the great idea of putting wheels on things and the things behind horses and then got around a lot. And wherever they went, they brought their language and mythology with them, which is why the Indo-European language family is so fucking giant.

We can see some of their stuff shimmer through in common themes in mythology. Like, almost all the mythologies in Europe and Asia have a "sky daddy", aka a godly father figure who is associated with the sky. He is not always the big guy of the pantheon, but he is important in all the cases.

And while when we talk Greek, Egyptian, Roman or even Chinese and Hindu mythology we have a surprising amount of writing going on that dates back at times more than 3000 years... the earlier we go, the less writing there is.

Now, with Pan we have some stuff in Mycenean art and what not, that hints that he was around at least as early as 1700 BC, though - obviously - we do not really have written sources going back to this time.

But there is also the fact that... One of the earliest mythologies to split from the Proto-Indo-European one is the Hindu mythology. An the Hindu mythology has Pushan, who is not only associated with the same stuff (pasture, roads, travel, the wild and so on), but also has some goat imagery in older versions. Just like Pan. And if you look at the names P(ush)an you can see there is a parallel. Which makes those geeks who study stuff like that for a living fairly certain that those two once were the same god. A god they call *Péh₂usōn. And no, I will not go into Proto-Indo-European language right now.

The word "pasture" in English comes from the same Proto-Indo-European word, by the way.

Current theory goes, that Pan was actually worshiped by the pastoral people living in Greece before the advanced Greek civilization spread. And given that Pan was associated with so many aspects the folks were not giving him up. So, as it goes with pantheons... He just got integrated into the pantheon as was........ though he got split into two pieces. But... Gotta talk about his other piece tomorrow.

Maybe due to the age of Pan, but maybe due to him turning into mostly a god of wilderness, he tends to be a much more openly manecing deity compared to other gods. While most polytheistic cultures absolutely feature an aspect of: "Our thing is that we bribe gods into being nice with us, because those gods are so freaking dangerous," most of the pantheon gods are actually mostly cultured. Even if they are horndogs like Zeus.

Pan meanwhile is a god of the wild. He has this animal imagery (that probably all early gods had) still very present, he gets associated with all sort of wild behavior in humans, and of course the word "panic" comes from Pan. Because it is said that his scream could create panic in the humans.

Enough geekery, lets get back to Stray Gods. Because other than with Persephone's situation I am fairly certain that at least some of this was known to the creators, given the role Pan plays as someone who is not quite inside of the Chorus and acts more as an outsider to it.

[moonshynecybin]

bc you asked for it: what happens in the same age au when they get to the premier class?

YESSSSS OKAY. so the thing is. in this scenario they are MUCHHH more codependent right out of the gate. truly like you are the only bitch i can relate to and understand and ALSO the only person i can use as a yardstick for how actually good at this sport i am. and my entire life is about discovering how good at this sport i am. like they both think they’re weird fucked up soulmates created in a lab to complement and destroy each other. and they’ve held the other’s hair back after they puked when they were teenagers AND they’ve been inside each other. WEIRD shit sublimating into their egos and sense of selves.

which means ego really changes here! because if they went up against each other in their primes i’m not sure they would be as dominant as they were in real life… if vale didn’t win 9 titles without going to the gym that would change him as a person. and he’s reacting to MARC as his main rival here so he CANT win at those mind-game psychological warfare tactics he used as a little guy because marc is simply matching him in levels of crazy… idk it has interesting implications top to botttom for how these guys fundamentally view themselves and their lives!! i like to think about it!!!

but. basically. i think the main friction in their relationship, ESPECIALLY when they get to the premiere class, is the injury thing. even more so than normal. it’s not just i love you i’m scared that you aren’t taking care of yourself. it’s I DONT KNOW WHO I AM WITHOUT YOU please take care of yourself because i can’t race when i’m WORRIED about you (we see also how marc gets about alex) and racing is the MOST IMPORTANT THING!!! this goes both ways but vale is notably more anxious about it. like this scenario would add vale to the list of people who can make marc stop racing injured (and who are COMFORTABLE asking him to stop) BUT it also makes him a direct competitor to marc. and his oldest friend. and largest enemy. with no added hero worship BUT a big dose of first-love/situationship naïveté for them both. like knowing how they get on track together, how do they even begin to resolve thatttttt… contradictions on contradictions….. so marc doesn’t race injured as often, but maybe learns to protect himself independently even LESS (he doesn’t have to think about it, that’s what vale’s for !) and it reallyyyyy tears into their relationship because vale cannot be the entire scaffolding for marc’s ability to protect himself (he is also i think not protecting himself so well from injury. anything to beat marc, don’t know where or if sic fits here etc)

ANOTHER BIG TENSION. i also think that vale would NOT be one to want to settle down that young, whereas marc would wanna get soulbonded about it… so even while vale in this au has an easier time conceptualizing how important marc is to him, i think he imposes some distance in order to go out and like. process his parents divorcing/remarrying (SIDE NOTE 2: PIC OF MARC WITH BABY LUCA. THANK YOU.), sow his wild oats, hit up the club and be a little slutty etc (SIDE NOTE 3: UCCIO AND MARC BEEF WOULD GO FUCKING CRAZYYYY HERE) and marc is down to tag along for a lot of that stuff but at the same time. they’re teens/young men living in different countries so it’s not like they’ve ever talked about what they are or asked to be exclusive… and it’s not gonna feel great when vale disappears with a girl or marc has some fling with someone back home! and it’s not like they can come out so i actually think the on again off again vibes get TURBOCHARGED. the jealousy and angst is ratchet up to ten… maybe they don’t get sepang level divorced bc ego is different and they’ve known each other longer, but the little stuff digs more… they break up a lot they make up a lot…. they eventually get resolve it after marc’s arm injury i think… puts some stuff into perspective…