#so now I gotta deal with “did I do the right thing or the petty thing?”
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Eddie doing a deal with Steve at that picnic table after school. Eddie’s on his second senior year and pissed off about it. He’s trying to be cordial to Harrington, but he keeps remembering how the basketball team messes with his Hellfire kids.
So he up charges him, gets a little petty revenge; he’s sure Harrington can afford it anyway. The extra money can go toward Eddie’s T payments.
Something rustles in the woods and Harrington freezes, listening. Some kind of wet, furless animal jumps out of the trees in a blur.
Before Eddie can react, Harrington grabs his hand and pulls him up, heading to the closest sanctuary, the high school. Eddie’s freaking out. They run into the building, and Harrington pulls them into the janitors closet. He lunges to the back, reaching for a mop, but Eddie hears a wet skittering in the hallway and slams the door shut. Harrington whips around at the noise and the sudden darkness. Eddie holds his breath until the creature passes.
“What the fuck is out there?” He hisses at Harrington. The closet is cramped and the floor is littered with cleaning supplies. They're right up on top of one another in the small space. “This is crazy, this is so fucking crazy—”
“Calm down!” Harrington hisses back, closer than he expects, breath brushing against Eddie's cheek.
“Calm? Why are you calm, what's wrong with you?” Eddie's heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He can't breathe. “We just almost got attacked by some fuckin' thing!” He flutters his hands to emphasize 'thing' though Steve probably can't see it in the dark. He smacks a shelf.
“I've seen something like it before, it's some kind of demogorgon.” Harrington says. Eddie splutters. The king of Hawkins High just made a DnD reference.
“How do you—that is not a demogorgon, Harrington! Demogorgons don't exist and even if they did, they don't look like that!”
“Hey, you asked and I answered. And my name is Steve.” He reaches around Eddie and tries the door handle. He's practically hugging him.
Steve swears and flicks on the light switch, illuminating the closet. “It's stuck.”
Eddie can see Steve's face properly now in all its glory. The overhead bulb gleams off Steve's stupidly long eyelashes. He almost wants to turn the light back off. His breathing is still restricted.
“Guess we're trapped in here until somebody comes by.” Steve says.
Eddie balks at the thought of being stuck with Steve in close quarters for so long. “No we're not, just gimme a second.”
Eddie shoves a hand up under his Dio shirt so he can pull his bindings a little away from his chest.
“What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed. His eyes are wide.
“Don't get excited,” Eddie winks because apparently he has a death wish, “just need to breathe. Get me a flathead screwdriver. The door opens inward.”
Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Right, the hinges!” He turns around to rustle through the shelves, which Eddie, uh, doesn’t mind. Goddamn.
He faces Eddie again with a flathead in his hands and a triumphant look. Eddie grabs it with a ‘thanks’ and goes to work prying pins out of the hinges. He can feel Steve watching him. Eddie gets the door loose and shoves it open, catching it so it doesn’t make noise.
Steve stalks past him wielding a mop like a weapon.
“Where are you going?” Eddie stage whispers.
Steve looks over his shoulder at Eddie, hair artfully falling out of place. “I’ve gotta find that thing, I’m not gonna let it roam the school.”
Eddie looks at Steve, looks back at the exit, looks down at the tile floor.
“Shit.”
He follows.
#trans eddie munson#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#ftm eddie munson#steve x eddie#monster hunter steve harrington#set vaguely after the stancy alleyway breakup#steddie ficlet#autistic eddie munson
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#I snitched to my GM today about shit that has been making night shift miserable for weeks#so now I gotta deal with “did I do the right thing or the petty thing?”#on replay in my head all night#I took my lil ass in there with a list and everything#Tbh if moving to the day shift doesn’t help with my anxiety about walking in that place#im gonna have to quit and scramble to find a job to hold me the next 10 weeks#which is not ideal when I could ride this one out and kiss it goodbye peacefully right before I fuck off to Europe as planned
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No words can express how much it is doing HEHEUSVJSGSJZBWKUE to me, thank you for writing this, I shall take it and bite it
Can I request on how the other character staying in the hotel feel about the reader?
Of course you can, nonnie! I'm so glad people like hacker!reader so much 😭
How the other residents at the Hazbin Hotel feel about hacker!reader
Angel dust and you would not get along at first. His hypersexual nature puts you off, which he teases you for.
"what? can't handle a bit of teasing, sweet cheeks?"
"stay six feet away from me."
Eventually, when he does tone it down, he finds that he enjoys your company quite a bit. You're pretty down to earth, and probably the sanest resident in the hotel.
That doesn't make your conversations any less weird.
"so basically you can use 'ussy' as a suffix for anything that has a hole."
"So, like, spidussy?"
Collective groan from everyone else while you cackle uncontrollably.
Teaching sinners gen Z lingo aside, you two would get up to mischief very often (much to everyone else's annoyance). The whole "replacing every porno video with a rick roll" was actually his idea. Petty revenge!
Husk is mostly indifferent about you, up until he realizes that Alastor is interested in you in one way or another. He tries to warn you not to have anything to do with him. He would know. But then again you've never been one to be told what you can or can't do.
Annoyed when you make a deal with Alastor regardless of his warnings, but at least you didn't give up your soul(?)
You two get pretty close afterwards. Something about looking out for you since you're so impulsive.
He's the one who helps you adjust to hell, telling you about things you need to know.
Learns very quickly that once you've put your mind to something, there's no persuading you out of it.
"Husk! Let's go eat at that fancy restaurant, my treat."
"It takes months to get a reservation to that place. And neither of us can pay for it."
"I bumped our reservation for tonight. Besiiiiides, I don't think the Vee's would mind if I take a couple hundred dollars off of their account."
You're gonna get yourself killed one of these days.
He's gotta make sure to prevent it.
Vaggie does not appreciate you messing with the V's.
You try to assure her that they wouldn't find out, but she's still skeptic.
Point taken, you just hide what you're doing from her as much as you can.
She wonders if you really did stop but has a nagging feeling that you're just doing it behind closed doors instead of doing it in the hotels lobby.
"You're endangering everyone else in the hotel!"
"They're not smart enough to find out. Did you know that they have surveillance around the hotel? I can turn all of that off."
Well, so far, they really haven't found out.
But the moment you endanger anyone in the hotel, you're out.
Charlie was ecstatic the first time you came to the hotel after it had just been rebuilt. After a while of staying there, that excitement dies down as she realizes how much of a handful you are.
Still, she's glad to have you around. No one said that redeeming souls was an easy task.
Realizes way too late that you're not really interested in redemption.
Like a few months in way too late.
But at least they have a new technician? You're pretty adept with anything that works on electricity and the help is really appreciated. Especially now that they're confident they won't be spied on while you're around.
Also worried about you constantly messing with the V's, but she's more worried about your safety.
But her dad seems particularly fond over you, and Alastor said he'd make sure you won't get killed. You should be fine, right?
(masterlist)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk#angel dust#charlie morningstar#vaggie#gn reader#🌧Rain0tes#🌧hacker!reader
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This is petty but that's never stopped me.
In the Vox Machina campaign, Scanlan Shorthalt's resounding success in matters of tactics [this post isn't about roleplaying] was partly due to Sam Riegel's skill, and mostly due to the fact that 5e Bards are just that good. However! The "gnome bard" combo was famously chosen by Liam, after Sam, who'd never played d&d before, asked what's the silliest, least powerful and least badass thing he could play. That was his character concept. And at the time, Liam was not wrong to answer "bard". In 3rd Edition/Pathfinder, Bards DID suck, at least out of the box. You could build a strong Bard in Pathfinder, but you had to optimise to high heavens with carefully selected feats and spells and items from various sources. It didn't just happen spontaneously, and it was still nowhere near the raw power and versatility of a Wizard or Druid. Bards played support.
So at lvl 9, they started streaming and switched from Pathfinder to D&D 5e. Scanlan got an ENORMOUS power boost at that point, but Sam was still harbouring under the impression that his chosen class is not powerful or badass at all. And as they kept playing and he kept killing it (he was brilliant at it, no doubt about that!), he presumed that he was killing it with one hand tied behind his back, because he was just a silly little gnome bard. And, he emphatically wasn't silly. He was a whole-ass full caster, top tier class right there.
Pathfinder Bards are half-casters. If they hadn't switched to 5e, Scanlan wouldn't have access to 7th and higher level spells: no Mordenkeinen's Magnificent Mansion (a signature spell), no Dominate Monster (this is how he made the goristro fight Vorugal), no Reverse Gravity (big moment in the first Ripley fight), and no Wish (kind of a big deal!). Other spells aren't in the Bard list, and there's no Magical Secrets in Pathfinder: he wouldn't have access to Bigby's Hand (another signature spell), Otiluke's Resilient Sphere (how he got rid of the efrit, and Ripley), Lightning Bolt and Stinking Cloud (his standard damage spells), Polymorph (that's several giant eagles including the "now smarter" Grog (this will never stop being funny), and of course the legendary triceratops), or Counterspell (kind of an enormous deal). And all the other spells would have come later: no Seeming at lvl 11 = no cows. (What a loss! No cows!)
And it's not just access to spells, it's also "likelihood of spells to work", which depends on the DC, which in Pathfinder depended on spell level. Lower level spells had a lower chance of doing anything, by virtue of being easier to resist. And half-casters got a slower spell progression, and ended up with significantly less power overall. Whereas in 5e spell level is irrelevant, spell DCs depend on your character level, and that's that. Even (Bardic) Inspiration got a boost from the switch. All in all, we're talking about a spectacular upgrade.
So a tragic misconception happened: Sam got it into his head that he's so good at d&d that he can gimp himself and still kick ass. Well, he can't.
When he played a Rogue (no big spells, huh? no cheat sheet!) he sucked at it and he hated it. And now that he plays a Cleric and actually, actively gimps himself (he said in a 4-Sided Dive that he deliberately avoids cleric spells that others have used before in CR, which by now is most of them, and certainly the best of them), he very predictably sucks at it too (I mean relatively speaking; it's still a full caster), and he doesn't love it. The one time he was BRILLIANT was when he had a top tier class to work with, and used it to its full potential. But he thought he was gimping himself, because he was thinking of a different game/edition than the one he was playing!
I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him up and say my good man, you gotta stop this "I gimp myself" -> "I fail to kick ass" -> *surprised pikachu face*. CHOOSE. Either gimp yourself and accept you won't be kicking any ass, but it's okay because you enjoy roleplaying someone like that more than you enjoy kicking ass, OR stop gimping yourself and kick ass, because you do enjoy kicking ass, don't you?
Both are great! I approve either way! But choose.
I also wanna grab Liam by the shoulders and tell him "Wizard or Sorcerer! For the love of all that's green and good in this world, next time Sam asks you what class to play in D&D, tell 'im Wizard or Sorcerer!". But then I remember that next time they'll probably play Daggerheart and not D&D unless WotC makes them an offer they can't refuse, so the whole thing is moot.
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Dipper accidentally summons King Phantom to Gravity Falls to help against Bill?
okay never thought i'd write anything with GF buttttt here ya go @guardianrex <3
And Happy super late tenth birthday gravity falls. Hope this rocks.
"You're just a teenager!" Dipper pointed at the lanky boy from behind the table turned cover. His finger shakes a little as he wills himself to be brave.
"You're just a teenager!" Dipper pointed at the lanky boy from behind the table-turned-cover. His finger shakes a little as he wills himself to be brave.
"And you're just a kid," said teenager yawns, rubbing sleep out of heavily bagged eyes. "Is there a reason I'm standing in my living room with some kid I don't know at ass o clock in the morning?"
Dipper swallows. He'd meant to summon the 'Infinity King', a figure Grunkle Ford had found information on during his travels. The King of All Reality was supposedly an eldritch being of unknown origin and deathless power, one that could possibly be asked to help deal with Bill and his crap.
And his research was going perfectly! The texts Ford had shown him a few weeks ago- the very same texts that Dipper had stolen while Ford was asleep, were translated quite easily (who knew Pig Latin was a viable language in some realities?) and used without his Grunkle's knowledge. Against said Grunkle's warnings.
But ignoring warnings could have gone much worse. At least the figure floating three inches off the floor looked about as human as Dipper did. He knows from personal experience (what a weird summer) it doesn't mean much, but at least the King's skin wasn't like, inside-out or something gross. He shudders at the thought of the possibility.
Although the King looks nothing more than a teenager who just woke up, Dipper could still sense something about the guy was... off.
Unnatural
Dipper realizes he's been staring for a while, and that he's being stared back at. He points more confidently at the King and swallows his fear.
"Takes one to uh... takes one to know one!"
Smooth
The Infinity King sighs and pinches his brow. "Look, kid. I don't know how you summoned me or why you summoned me, but I'm very tired. I have no money, and I would like to go back to bed before the test I have tomorrow."
"Oh man, is it not summer break for you? That stinks."
"Buddy I'm in summer school, it does stink. So I'd appreciate being able to leave. Please."
"Oh yeah let me just-" Dipper almost falls for the believable performance before catching himself. "Wait a second, that's dumb. I'm not gonna fall for that, Infinity King!"
Dipper shines his flashlight into the King's eyes and is on the receiving end of a very angry stare. "Ancients help me..." the King sighs.
"Nobody can help you! Those sigils are for trapping ghosts and spirits! So now you gotta listen to what I say."
"I really don't have a choice, huh?" The King crosses his legs and places an elbow on his knee. "Alright, shortie. What did you summon me for? Need dating advice? Video game level can't be beat? Annoying sister?"
"I'm not so dumb to summon a powerful being for petty squabbles or whatever!" Dipper grumbles. "I'm dealing with something really really bad, alright?"
He walks up to the border of the circle and shows the King the journal, specifically the pages on Bill Cipher.
"What the hell is this thing? An evil triangle?" the King asks and begins to read. "Don't like how that page gives me goosebumps."
"He's an inter dimensional demon and a jerk. He's also evil and messing with my family."
"Well, I don't know what I can do, but inter dimensional jerks happen to be what I fight most." the King sighs. "What can I do to help?"
"First you gotta make me a-a deal!" Dipper's voice squeaks, realizing what he's said aloud before looking around to make sure Bill isn't going to pop up out of nowhere.
"Kid, I don't think deals are a good choice for someone your age, nor with an inter dimensional being like me."
"Yeah, but like, your kind is kinda all about deals, right?"
"No, but I guess if it makes you feel better... how about you buy me a pizza when this is over. A pizza, and a milkshake of my choice."
"You're serious?" Dipper squints.
"Deadly." the King grins.
"Alright, deal then-"
"Okay, drop the shield and we'll shake on it."
#dantes vibe corner#guardianrex#my fic#danny phantom#dipper pines#dp#gf#crossover#answered#phanfic#danny fenton#dipper
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I can't believe there is a "Cursed Cat Alastor Controversy" and that once again I had to have the evil lepreconartist who lords over the fandom making his gold off of Medrano's despair explain to me in order to understand what the fuck is going in on the fandom, yet again ... But I kind of hate you all so here's my hot take...
It's actual petty bullshit.
It's the equivalent of a fanartist calling out an AMV maker for "art theft" and demanding that a video they worked hard on be taken down because they used a piece of fanart for a character in an AMV tribute to the character that both the fanartist and the AMV maker (who is already an artist in their own right) already do not actually fucking own. Like, regardless if the AMV maker gives the fanartist credit. Instead of being honored by it, when they should know better that neither of them ever actually even own the shit to begin with, yet they still demand "credit" for fanwork.
I once saw a popular Asian artist in the svtfoe fandom demanding a boycott of the popular fan run merch store TheMysteryShack just as the beautiful fan made artbook Tales of Rebel Princess was about to launch exclusively through there because she alleged that the shop owner had stolen one of her friends fanart designs on a goddamn fucking Steven Universe tarot card pack of all things but I still really liked her Star fanart, so when I tried to respectfully explain to her that I wouldn't be boycotting the shop because of Tales of Rebel Princes launching and how I thought it was personally in very poor taste to not just contact the shop owner privately about the matter and instead making a big stink in public about boycotting his shop when she knew that one of her other artist friends that we knew she had also collaborated with in the past was just about to debut another big collaborative art tribute book dedicated to Daron and Star vs. there through this guys shop! And essentially it would be sad to see her knowingly taking business away from her other friend like that and demanding others in her following do the same and over something as small as a deck of Steven Universe cards, especially in understanding how little love svtfoe gets, since she was also a well known svtfoe fanartist ... All I got in response was "Well I'm happy for my friend but I'm Korean and you're just a Filthy American who couldn't possibly understand how disrespectful something like this is in my culture and blah blah blah if you instant on further harassing me about this I'll block you!"
And I was basically like "suit yourself being fake and having a stick up your butt honey I'm still getting my Star vs. artbook!"
And then she blocked me.
Good riddance. As if Miss Heinous would honestly ever head bang to Ruberiot...
But I guess what I'm trying to get here is that like...Oh, I'm sorry? You wanna make fanart for western cartoons? You gotta play by western rules then. Like it's late night here and I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. But it's true.
If Aurelio Voltaire honestly deserves to have a deal be cut in my opinion so he can finally officially own his share of the "Vampair" series after Daria Cohen stole his voice to make it (half dry humor, half serious here, to be quite frank about this) then coma0423 deserves to cut a deal so that Amir Talai can have a bit of financial comprehension and his percentage of whatever kind of (I'm guessing financial) ~"credit'~ that Coma is now demanding from other fanartists who make Cursed Cat Alastor fan merch since Talai , after all, did design the original concept sketch that would become Cursed Cat Alastor that Coma saw and then decided to just runaway with when they made the meme ...
Listen to me... Fanart belongs to everyone and no one by nature of it being made by fans and no one can truly own a "fan concept" expect for the true creator of the thing that it's based on. Unless that thing is already in the public domain. And if it is it becomes Schrodinger's Cheshire Cat.
Schrodinger's Cursed Cat Alastor belongs to everyone and no one, babe. He belongs to The Hazbin Hotel Fandom and The Hazbin Hotel. If he actually becomes canon in the show somehow, then he'll belong to Amir and Viv, actually, maybe Coma will get proper credit then, but the concept won't even really be theirs anymore, just as it even isn't really officially theirs now, even if they officially do get hired.
First you're telling me that I'm not allowed to fuck the radio demon ... Now you're telling me that I'm apparently not even allowed to kiss a cute wittle kitty cat plushie of him between the space on his head between his ears if said plush wasn't crafted by or sold explicitly by the fanartist who again, stole the concept sketch of him from Amir Talai in the first place?
No. This is nonsense.
Stop making all these petty dramas off someone else's work that only feed the evil leprechaun more gold off of someone else's work or start making you're own original work from your own original concept that you can actually claim your own copyright to I'm exhausted.
Ever hear the phrase once something leaves your brain it belongs to everyone, not just you anymore?
This goes triple for anyone making fanart of someone else's work and that's a fact. Especially if it's only ever an extremely memed up version of an already canonically existing character that you were only so lucky went viral.
Stop the bullying. No one fanwork is that special. Just do your best to honor the source material and be flattered by other fanartists imitations of your fanartist imitation... It's the circle of cursed kitties and it feeds us all. *smacks paw down*
#Hazbin Hotel#hazbin hypocritical#Cursed Cat Alastor#Alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#alastor hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel cast#amir talai#fanart#fanwork#fandom fuckery#big name fan bullshit#It's getting late and I don't know what else to tag this as honestly...#Just accept that not everything is yours to start out with in fandom spaces and learn to let your little darlings go ...#Best advice I can come up with before bed ...#bnf bullshit
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Okay this is a follow up to this post because I’ve had more time to think about it and I have more to say after all.
Lesson 25 round two here we go! Sorry Asmo, you’re still not in this one, just know that you’re beautiful and I love you.
Okay.
The truth is that I was just trying to find a way for what happened to be some kind of trick. And I like to hold out hope that it still is somehow, but I’m not going to speculate about it or try to prove that is somehow the case.
Instead, I want to talk about why I feel this way.
More than anything else, it feels extremely out of character for Barbatos to have such a minor reason for acting the way he has been this whole time.
If they were only setting up that whole thing in order for it to be a joke, they should have made his insults less intense or revealed it far earlier.
Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely think that Barbatos would be upset about finding he’s eighth on the list, especially after everything he’s done for Solomon. I am not at all saying that I think he didn’t have a reason to be upset or that it doesn’t make sense for his feelings to be hurt.
What doesn’t make sense is his reaction.
Barbatos has always been reserved. He never really shows strong emotions at all and in fact I think I’ve mentioned several times that this particular situation is the one exception. It stands out because it’s so unlike him. Which led me to believe that whatever his reason for being so angry was, it had to be something big.
In fact, I was so convinced that Solomon did something really terrible to Barbatos that I didn’t believe Sol when he said he couldn’t remember what it was. I was like there’s no way you don’t remember doing something so bad that it makes Barbatos act like this. That just can’t be true.
But if it really was just the list thing, then yeah. Of course Solomon doesn’t remember. He was like ??? Did I make a list?
Barbatos’s reaction is way too over the top for something so small.
I would have expected him to call Solomon out on it immediately, the moment he found the list. Because it also doesn’t seem like Barbatos to keep it a secret this whole time. Which is another reason I thought it was going to be something more dramatic.
Barbatos says some really mean things to Solomon and while it can be entertaining for a normally reserved character to do that, it also needs to have a legit reason. And this just didn’t cut it in my mind.
This reason makes Barbatos seem childish and petty which is not something he’s ever been before. (At least not that I can remember.)
So. Here’s where I get into the speculation about why this is the way they went.
Either we’re dealing with what I would consider bad writing and they legit just had the whole thing set up to make this joke OR something else is going on.
The something else could be anything at this point. I could get into theories about this being Barb from a different timeline for whom this isn’t out of character for some reason, Barb having a totally different reason but didn’t feel he could say it in front of MC, maybe I’ve been wrong all along and there aren’t two Sols but actually two Barbs (or at the very least someone masquerading as Barb).
But really, I could speculate all day and I don’t think I’ve ever been right about anything because this game is constantly throwing me for a loop.
So for now I will just say that I didn’t particularly like the big reveal here. It just felt wrong to me, for the reasons listed above. But I’m gonna roll with it now because it might not be anything more than what they’ve shown us. Which means I just gotta come to terms with it.
Personally, I much prefer when my girls aren’t fighting. Barbatos has some epic insults, but can’t he fling them at someone else? I like when Barbatos and Solomon are getting along and have their close friendship where they trust each other like in the OG. Bring it back to that!
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me spoilers#obey me nightbringer spoilers#obey me nightbringer lesson 25#spoilers#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#misc lesson recap#misc rambles
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His Lighthouse: She Knows (LedgerJoker x f!reader)
She Knows
series summary:
Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?
chapter summary:
A series of events led you to this exact moment where you and Joker's worst nightmare finally came true. She knew and you had no doubt she would tell the world.
author’s note:
WARNING CLIFFHANGER AHEAD (again)
Wow! Funny how I’m late but updating on a Wednesday of all days... anyhoo hope everyone had a great Fourth of July if you’re state side. Be petty and listen to She Knows by J. Cole. I had way too much fun adding in memes and pop culture references into this chapter! If you don’t understand one, do message me! I’d be more than happy to explain!
taglist:
@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll
Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Last Chapter | Next Chapter
A series of events led you to this exact moment.
You were in your apartment being accused of everything to Metropolis and back. The accuser happened to be your friend and she wasn't holding anything back.
"How long have you two been together? Y'all were on some secret bull___t that night at the club, I should've known then! Of all people why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"
The questions kept coming with no end in sight.
Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics. Your audience wasn't too far behind. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Neo braved the fray and tried to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead.
"I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"
"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.
"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"
You glanced at the group of people gathered around your dinner table and sighed. This was beyond embarrassing but unfortunately it was happening all because Dick couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The culprit sat watching the drama unfold with a smug grin on his face. Times like this you hated him so much..
This was all his fault.
He backed you into a corner that you couldn't run from. You were tired of hiding and lying to everyone but that wasn't the point. It wasn't Dick's business to tell and now you were in the hot seat because he decided to meddle. They deserved to know the truth.. but how would you begin to clear up the air and set the facts straight?
"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.."
The sad thing is; you never got the chance to.
Four days ago...
You looked up at Dick when he leaned his forearms on the counter. "So, Y/n? When do I get to meet Prince Charming?"
You were speechless. All you could do was blink as your brain did a full Windows shutdown. You felt like throwing up, curling up into a ball, and screaming out into the ether all at once.
In no way, shape, or form, was this happening. You shook your head and glanced down at the gossip magazine still in your hands. Did Joker know about all this? Was this the mysterious contents of the manila folder you found back at the beach house?
No, you were confident that J would've told you if he knew beforehand.
This was bad news for both you and his career. You were a popular author nationwide with a cult following on social media. You were set to frontline GothCon in a few months and promo ads and interviews about your most recent book were still circulating within the media. Despite all of the buzz, it had been a while since you were followed by paparazzi. You weren't the most exciting person, so you weren't entirely sure what piqued their interest.
Joker would be livid when he found out he was captured twice on camera.
He was still a wanted criminal, going almost three months strong in hiding. This could ruin everything between you and him. Right before it could officially start.
You were rereading the article when Dick spoke up. "Oh and I talked to your mom."
You almost snapped your neck with how fast you looked up. He mentioned it so casually as if he didn't already drop a bomb on your Monday. "You did what?"
"Y/n, please keep up with me here. I talked to Mom. You haven't called her in three weeks! That's tots not like you. Anyways, she and I got to scheming and get this–"
It concerned you with just how close Dick was to your parents. More on that later you suppose. Something told you this next bit wouldn't be good.
"They're coming to visit! I know, I know. It's very last minute, but your dad and I are gonna bbq and I already invited everyone else so you don't have to worry." He beamed from your island counter.
Such a shame you were anything but ecstatic.
Was this a prank of some sort? Did you hit your head over the weekend? Was this a fever dream? You lived in Gotham City for a year now and your parents never came to visit. Not because they didn't love you, more so, both parties involved had conflicting work schedules.
They couldn't have picked a better time to visit. This was all way too much for your brain to process.
"Dick, what? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Run that back! You can't just make plans with my parents at my place and NOT TELL ME!" You shouted.
You watched him roll his crystal blue eyes, the same ones girls in this city, (and in Blüdhaven) swooned over. When you first met Dick you had to admit, his suave demeanor piqued your interest too.
You quickly got over that silly crush. His attitude was a piece of work. Speaking of... He smirked, "I just did."
As much as you loved Dick Grayson, you wanted to kill him right about now. You sat the magazine down and wiped your face with a groan.
"Hooooooooo my God! You're just like Cindy making it impossible for me to rain check things! When is this happening? Not like my input matters but it'll be nice to know when."
You just spent a relaxing four day vacation away from the city only to return and be forced into a family reunion. What joy.
Dick shrugged his shoulders, "This Thursday." He knew you would panic but the temper tantrum you were having was over the top.
Your neck rolled as your lashes fluttered in disbelief. He popped another snack into his mouth and waited for the inevitable outcry.
"Richard John Grayson!" There it was.
"Using my full name? Now that's sexy." He easily dodged the magazine you threw at his head.
It knocked something over on the counter behind him but neither of you paid it any attention. Dick glanced at you and cringed. He knew that face all too well. You were pissed.
"C'mon, Y/n. It's the perfect weather for a get-together; everyone is free, all you gotta do is unlock the door and look cute. Which wouldn't be too difficult." He added with another one of his boyish smiles.
Unfortunately, you were immune to his charms. This was not how you wanted to spend your week.
Your apartment was in desperate need of a deep clean, you knew Dick depleted your fridge, so that meant more grocery shopping, and quite honestly, you wanted to relax with Joker and spend time with him— not entertain guests!
But Dick went ahead and made plans for you. Without your permission! You had enough and started to chase him around the kitchen and into your living room.
The police officer had the upper hand and always stayed just out of your reach. His laughter floated up to the high ceilings and the husky sound only fueled your anger.
You got even more frustrated from going around in circles and stopped to catch your breath by leaning on the couch. Dick bounced on the balls of his feet, not winded in the slightest.
Since when were you so out of shape?
"Were you out of shape when you took J's dick a day ago?" The devil on your left shoulder asked out of the blue. "Cuz he folded us like a lawn chair." She cackled to herself.
"And we took it like a champ too!" The angel added after she materialized on your right shoulder.
In a rare gesture, she sided with her archnemesis. That's when you knew it was bad.
It was official. You were making a therapy appointment this week. Having full blown conversations with figments of your imagination really needed to stop. You refused to turn into the mentally ill.
Although you'd fit in perfectly within Gotham City and you doubted Joker would mind a looney girlfriend. Woah. Stop right there.
You had yet to tell J that you loved him! What business did you have putting labels on things? You physically shook those thoughts away. Back to the matter at hand.
"Who else.. did you.. invite?" You wheezed out in Dick's direction.
He faked to his left but you predicted his movements and almost got a hold of him if you didn't stumble on the decorative rug. Thankfully your colorful ottoman nearby, thus preventing a bad fall.
"Whatever do you mean Y/n?" He laughed after he knew you were okay.
He thought this was a game. Stupid agile former acrobat..
"You.. know what I mean Grayson!" You shouted as you dived over the dining table but Dick just vaulted over it with the grace of his family's name. You crumbled to the floor on the other side but quickly ran after him back into the kitchen, grumbling along the way.
"Annoying, extroverted, pain in my—"
"Oo! Bad Y/n! No swearing in the apartment!" Dick chided you.
You weren't going to catch him so you looked around for an equalizer.
Dick huffed when you hit him dead in the face with a roll of paper towels. He smacked them aside and raised his arms in surrender when he noticed you found something heavier to throw.
"S__t! Easy! Easy, Y/n! Okay, I'll explain! Just don't hurt my face!"
You lowered the bread box back down onto the counter with a heavy thud. It was solid wood, an heirloom from your mother's side of the family.
"THEN START ELABORATING GRAYSON!"
"Lower your voice. How about we take this conversation to the balcony?" He suggested.
You jutted your hip and crossed your arms, "Why? You scared?"
Dick chuckled to himself. You were a spitfire when you wanted to be. He didn't want to admit it aloud, but your aim was better than a quarterback.
"Yeah.. there's not much out there you can throw at me." He confessed.
The both of you shared a laugh and the tension between you both dissipated. "Alright, fine. I won't hurt that pretty face of yours. For now. Lead the way." You said.
He walked over to hold out his arm like a proper gentleman but not before tipping your chin up with his index finger. "You think I'm pretty, Y/n?"
"Mhm." You hummed, "Pretty annoying."
Dick just laughed and guided you out onto the balcony.
A random breeze tossed your hair as you sat your glass down on the table. Your hands were damp from the condensation and you wiped them off on your jeans as you faced Dick.
He was already staring at you with those clear blue eyes of his. They accessed you like he knew something you didn't. His knowing gaze and the gossip magazine he showed you earlier; your anxiety was at an all time high.
"So... Are you gonna explain or just stare at me all afternoon?"
He sat his own beverage down with a smirk before leaning back on the patio couch.
"The latter sounds like time better spent but.. you do deserve an explanation. Like I said earlier, your parents and I organized this get-together for Thursday. They haven't visited since you moved here and you deserve a breather from work. We all do. It's just our close friends, nothing serious Y/n, so don't go decorating or doing anything extravagant."
"I'll admit, I haven't been around lately since I picked up more shifts back home and.." You blinked in shock watching Dick Grayson, of all people, falter.
He always had the right words to say. You wrung your lip as he nodded to himself and returned your gaze.
"I don't want you lifting a finger, Y/n. Don't fight me on this! I'll clean the apartment for you, just relax these next few days and let me take care of things while I'm here."
You paled. Two months ago if he dropped by wanting to stay over, it wouldn't have been an issue. Dick came and went as he pleased— never staying more than a week at a time, but things were different now.
You had Joker.
And Dick Grayson, a police officer stationed in Blüdhaven with strong ties to Gotham City, could not find out about Joker staying here.
You could fool Barbara and the girls, but Dick with his natural perceptiveness and fondness for being nosy would definitely find incriminating evidence if he stayed over. You couldn't allow that.
"Uh... wow.. I'm uhh shocked that you, of all people, want to clean. Alfred must be clutching his pearls right about now. But um.. you don't have to stay with me Dick. I-I can clean the place and have everything ready by Thurs—-"
He waved off your excuse like a fly. "Nonsense, Y/n/n! I've been here since Friday."
Your ears were ringing and your hands felt clammy. When did it get so hot? Dick didn't notice the early stages of a panic attack occurring right in front of him. "Huh?"
He took your startled reply with a grain of salt.
"Yeah, I arrived in town late Friday night but I had to check in with the old man and Alfred. That took longer than expected. Then Barbara texted me n' said that you were still out of town, so I crashed at your place instead of going home. I've been chillin over here ever since!"
Your right eye twitched. "H-Here? You slept here?"
Dick quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, Y/n. I just said that. I don't see the problem, I used to stay over in the past, no biggie. I didn't go in your room if that's what you're freaking out about, geez."
Like him going into your room was the issue here. You trusted him in that regard. You were panicking because Joker had temporarily moved into your guest room and the bathroom therein.
All it would take was one out of place item and Dick would ask who was staying with you, or worse. He'd deduce exactly who your roommate is and ruin everything for you.
You had to warn Joker not to come back. Scratch that. You needed to check his room and see if he left anything out.
You stood up abruptly and mumbled out an excuse.
"You know what? I really need to um, get caught up on.. uh laundry. Yes! Laundry and dusting! And have you seen those plants of mine? Dry as a bone! I should ahhh... do that. Water that. Them, I mean..."
You turned to make a beeline inside but Dick's voice halted your steps.
"Stop." He stood and eyed you pensively as he got closer.
"You ramble when you're nervous and it's rare that you let your place get so far behind on chores. Which tells me that you haven't been home in a while. Just how long have you been gone, young lady?" You avoided his gaze, picking you apart.
'Honestly Y/n, make yourself look more guilty.' You groaned internally.
Dick's eyes shifted to your shoulder to the array of bite marks finally healing from the weekend.
"You have been naughty, Y/n!" You flushed red and pushed him away.
Dick hardly moved. "Finally got laid huh? Was it Prince Charming? Did he fly you out so you could get some D? D__n Y/n, he must be really good then."
Technically he was right. Joker did in fact fly you out to Massachusetts and his stroke game was immaculate... but that wasn't the point here!
Dick laughed even harder when you rolled your eyes. "But we both know that's not the full truth. He stays here too."
He smiled at your horrified face. "Uh huh. I saw his stuff in the guest room. Woah, easy here Y/n! Don't go passing out on me!"
You swayed on your feet and Dick's arms shot out to catch you.
"Geez, dramatic much? I'm happy if you're happy, but I still want to meet him. I gotta talk to him and all."
The sun on the balcony was frying your head. Dick was talking out of his neck at this point. "T-Talk? About what?"
Dick just shook his head and drew you in for a hug.
"Y/n. Despite the hard time I give you, you're like a little sister to me. So if this guy means a lot to you, well. I wanna meet him. Someone's gotta give him a good Blüdhaven warning and I volunteer since I have all this natural intimidation going on."
You didn't have the heart to tell Dick that Joker was taller than him and far more intimidating. You simply snorted and accidentally spoke aloud.
"Tuh, good luck with that."
Dick leaned back so he could look down at you with a purple Riddler mark on his face.
"Nothing, I-I didn't say anything." Something flashed in his clear blue eyes but it was gone before you could question what.
He was back to himself in record time.
"O..K.. Hey! Why don't you go get your laundry sorted out and I'll start dusting the ceilings, yeah?" You jumped and shined your e/c eyes up at Dick.
"You'll dust for me?! Last time I almost died going up the ladder."
Dick sighed and rolled his gaze upward. "Y/n, you are too accident prone to be on anybody's ladder."
You awkwardly laughed and hugged your brother. You never had a sibling before. It was new and exciting until too much physical contact got overbearing.
"Mkay, that's enough." You pushed him away to begin the aforementioned chores.
Thankfully Dick wasn't insulted and left you to your own devices.
You watched him mosey back inside and disappear into your storage room, most likely, to fish out the cleaning supplies. While he was distracted, you sprinted to your bedroom with your phone.
You were grateful that Joker gave you his number over the weekend. However he said it was only to be used for emergencies. You considered him coming back and accidentally meeting Dick an emergency. You had to avoid them meeting at all costs.
You sealed yourself in your bedroom and made sure you dialed the one-call number correctly and waited.
It rang and rang and your stomach felt like it was sitting atop a rollercoaster hill, waiting for him to answer.
And without momentum, you rolled back to the station. It rang to a generic message. You weren't sure how you felt about leaving a voicemail but you already came this far, you couldn't waste the dial you made. So you took a deep breath and began.
"J.... It's me. Um. I have a friend over. Like staying over over. It's not safe for you to come back anytime soon. Please don't be upset with me. I also have a big family dinner this Thursday that I can't back out of so, please. Please, J! Don't come back until I give you a signal. I'll find a way.. I lo.. Ahhhh, um uh b-bye!"
You ended the call with shaky hands.
Did you almost say that on a freaking voicemail? Of all the worst times to confess, that would have been so anticlimactic. Thank goodness you caught yourself from making a complete fool of yourself.
Joker deserved a better declaration than some halfhearted mention on a voicemail that he'd probably would never listen to.
'Y/n, pull ya together girl. He's probably just busy.. '
He did sacrifice an entire weekend of his time to kick it back with you. He was probably drowning in whatever stuff a psychotic crime boss did at the office. Did Joker even have an office?
You pictured him behind an executive desk stacked high with papers and quickly wiped that image from your mind. It was replaced with J sliding down stacks of counterfeit money and torturing people in seedy back rooms. That was a better reality than Joker in an office setting.
You sighed and programmed your brain to focus on laundry and not on a certain criminal that vexed your heart and soul.
Little did you know— your mental imagery of him was spot on.
Joker was in fact working overtime to make up for his weekend vacation with you. In the short timeframe the two of you parted ways, he met up with Frost to go over pressing matters.
Joker knew about the photos.
It was upsetting that there were images of him floating around but it was more damaging to you. He tried to stop it on Thursday night, but the pap gave him and his men the slip.
Joker made sure you were safely tucked in at the hotel before he and Frost tore Atlanta apart trying to find the scumbag.
Joker thought that flying out of state would shake the trail, but this photographer was good. Too good, as if they had inside intel that helped them stalk you and Joker to Martha's Vineyard. Joker hated lots of things but he hated a rat the most.
Finding the snitch within his own organization proved to be difficult when Joker wasn't in Gotham City, so he had to wait until Monday to continue his investigation. He played things off and calmed your nerves at the beach house after that envelope came and made things worse.
Joker did not like being taunted. He needed to get to the bottom of this issue quickly. It was already irritating him.
The second he landed the jet at the Archie Goodwin International airport, outside of Gotham City proper; your security detail was there and waiting. You were sent off to your apartment and Joker immediately got to work.
Back to reality it seems.
Joker questioned if it would be easier to just whisk you away to some remote location until all of this blew over, but he knew you wouldn't go for it. You were independent and stubborn. You wouldn't hide like a coward. He admired that about you.
Too bad this was a serious threat that needed to be addressed and being stubborn about it could get you killed.
Some of your freedom would be sacrificed in order to protect you. Hopefully you would understand.
A pep rally, a test of loyalty, and a mass execution later, Joker weeded out the loose ends within his gang. One managed to give good information before croaking over and Joker saw red.
The bad feeling he had back at the airport was coming true. Things were far worse than he expected.
He followed the lead and lo and behold, it led back to his current best friend, Ivan Burbanc. Granted, Ivan didn't feel honored being Joker's friend, in time, maybe they could warm up to each other.
He already had the best seat in the house; a rickety chair underneath a light bulb, tucked away from prying eyes— although Ivan couldn't appreciate all of this since he had a sack over his head. His arms and legs were tied down and he was a frantic mess assuming the worst, until a door opened a little ways off.
Joker nodded at Mac to leave. The blond was standing guard and tossed over his shoulder, "We ruffled him up a bit during the grab. He's all yours, Boss."
Joker hummed in response. Quite honestly he didn't care about the lesser details. He just wanted to get the intel he needed and move on.
The more time he spent working was another minute spent away from you. Joker was like a drug addict needing his fix and you were an island over, blissfully unaware that Joker was getting his hands dirty, all to keep you safe.
The less you knew, the better. But he needed to see you soon.
He approached the paparazzi with calculated steps. The poor guy was nearly pissing himself in fear but Joker needed him to choke on it to get the answers he sought.
Ivan knew someone entered the room. Their exact location was unknown.
He jumped when he heard an eerie voice to his immediate right. "I just wanna know why. Why? Whyyy did you do it?"
Such an ambiguous question but it prompted the desired response. "Why what? I-I don't know what you're talking about man! I'm just a photographer! Please, you gotta let me go!"
"Just a pho-to-graph-er? Hm.. so uh, stalking and harassment are just perks of the eh.. job? You see. You tooK a picture of someone. Thursday. Night. And that... thaT. That is a big problem, uh Ivan? Is it?"
By this point, Ivan realized he was in deep s__t. This wasn't just some average Gotham City misunderstanding.
It wasn't out of place for a citizen to find themselves snatched from the street if they dabbled in crime. Being a paparazzi at times required him to get his hands dirty, but he was still a well rounded guy! This could all still be some misunderstanding! Maybe they nabbed the wrong guy?
He knew he shouldn't have taken that side gig but money was tight this month. It was just a simple shot, nothing too crazy! He was already in Atlanta so what did he have to lose except so much to gain?
He felt something sharp drag over his bare arm and panicked when it pierced the skin there. A simple graze, although deep enough to draw blood.
Whoever kidnapped him meant business. It was in his best interest to start talking.
"Ow! Alright, alright I-I was hired man!" The unknown voice asked by whom and Ivan scrambled to remember.
"Uh it was uh. S-Some anonymous tip! It wasn't through my normal means of intel but it said Y/n L/n would be flying out to Euphoria. They wanted a scandalous shot of her or something equivalent. I was already in the area so I acted on it! S-She's a high price celeb since she's so sheltered. One pic of her can go for like, thousands if it's good! E-Easy money!"
Joker's lip curled in a snarl. Was that all you were to these people? A dollar sign? Was he the only one that cared about your well being?
"You think my Light is just some quick buck?"
Ivan cringed further back into his chair at the declaration. Great, now he had an angry bf to deal with. "Okay.. l-listen buddy.. I didn't know she was your girl.."
Joker ripped the bag off from Ivan's head. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but once he recovered and saw who was in front of him, he knew he was a dead man.
"The Joker! S__t, okay.. okay! I–I'm sorry alright! I can't r-retract the spread, but we can make a deal right? Right?"
He was stumbling over his words so badly that Joker hardly understood the useless plea. He was busy thinking of ways he wanted to end this pathetic life to listen fully.
He still needed a name though.
"Fine. I li-ke deals. Who gave you the tip?" Joker asked.
The blade in his hand twinkled in the light as he locked eyes with his prey with an unreadable look. His reputation alone explained what was going to happen here if Ivan didn't respond. It motivated him to babble out nonsense.
"I.. ah.. uh some third party! I told you, I dunno! It was mad sketchy bro, but I took the risk!"
"Hmm. Well uh eye-van? Was it worth the risk?" Without warning, Joker jammed the knife into Ivan's thigh and just like he expected, this guy was a screamer.
Good thing the walls here were thick. It had been a while since Joker heard the sweet sound of sheer terror. It washed over him like a fond memory, yet he itched for more. Joker cracked his neck and waited for the screams to die down.
"Oh Ivan. Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, look at me! Hi.. you think thaT was bad. No. No. WaiT, till I take it out. Yeah? So! Who? Gave. You. The. Tip?" Right at the last word, Joker yanked the knife out.
Outside the room, Mac and another goon were placing bets on how long it would take to get results. All that was heard was muffled screams and Joker's maniacal laughter. It was good to hear the boss happy again.
"I dunno.. Boss is in a good mood today n' you know how he gets with a screamer. Maybe an hour?"
Mac nodded sagely. "Good point. Fifty says he'll drag it out."
In total, it only took twenty eight minutes.
Joker knocked on the door twice and emerged composed and cordial to the two goons stationed out front.
One of them offered him a towel to wipe his hands with and they were wise enough not to comment on the gory mess Joker left inside.
They could see it from here.
"If ya don'T mind.. Uh cleaning up my errr.. yeah." Joker vaguely pointed over his shoulder. He didn't stick around to hear them agree.
He got the name he wanted but unfortunately, it wasn't one that he knew. More digging around which meant this would take a lot longer than he had anticipated.
Joker was slightly limping down the hall when his coat pocket chimed. His leg was giving him problems again. He sighed and leaned his bodyweight on the wall and fished out the pesky device. Sure enough, one voicemail was left on his burner phone. Frost knew better than to make such a rookie mistake so that meant...
You.
Joker had the phone up to his ear in record time. Your sweet, melodic voice instantly calmed his nerves. That is until he actually listened to what you had to say. The two of you really had terrible luck.
One of your friends must've been staying over and you were so bent out of shape thinking he would be upset. He was, but it was so refreshing to hear you say please, that Joker didn't catch your last sentence for what it (almost) was.
This break would actually work out in his favor. He still needed more time to hunt down this thorn in his side and finally get to the bottom of his security leak. There was still a rat scurrying around that he needed to catch.
Thursday would give him plenty of time to do just that without being distracted— worrying about you.
Joker knew you wouldn't leave the apartment after being away for so long and your family dinner thingy would assure that you stayed in one place and not land into any trouble. Joker still had security cameras installed in your apartment if he really wanted to check in with you.
He couldn't help to be a little curious about your folks.
Now that he thought about it, you never mentioned them before. He wondered what your relationship with them was like and how they treated you in kind. Maybe he would tune in and check in on things..
Four days apart after such a wonderful weekend with you would be utter torture but Joker nodded to himself with conviction. He could(n't) do this. But he had to.
He also had to destroy this burner phone since you left a voice message on it so— he didn't see the harm in sending you a text before dumping it.
That was the only explanation he had for taking a risk, not just to soothe his separation anxiety, but yours as well.
OK see u Thurs my Light 🃏
You were shocked to see your phone light up with an unknown number messaging you.
Then you saw the playing card and instantly knew who it was. You weren't expecting a response from J. The fact that he did, felt like you were finally going down that rollercoaster at full speed.
Never mind the fact that he sent it an hour after your call or that his message was cut and dry. Despite how busy Joker was, he took the time out to text you back. That's what mattered.
He listened to your voicemail! (and hopefully didn't catch your word fumble at the end.) You didn't care that you were in front of Dick when you smiled wide.
"Oooooh. Someone's in love."
And cue the record scratch. You watched Dick descend the ladder to face you. He set the duster down and crossed his arms at your high pitch reply.
You immediately denied it. "N-No no I'm not! You don't know what you're um talking about!"
"Y/n. You can't see your face right now but you're glowing and not that, I just finished writing a novel, glow. Whoever this guy is, he's got you down bad."
"I am not down bad..." You echoed.
Dick fixed you with a, "why is you lying" look. You huffed and scurried over to your floor length mirror to see for yourself.
You looked the same in your opinion. After talking on the balcony with Dick, you changed into some old cleaning clothes and tied your hair up and out of the way. A few curls peeked out from under your bandana to frame your face, leaving you with a messy, but natural, look.
Your skin did look aglow and fresh but that could very well be from your stress free weekend with J. Other than that..
Dick came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders. "Ya see it? You look in love."
You were still unsure yet the longer you stared, that unknown but familiar, feeling bubbled up to the surface. All the feelings that you kept bottled up since the beginning, festered front and center before reaching a tipping point.
You weren't supposed to let Joker in. He wasn't supposed to have a chance with your heart. But he found a way in, no matter how many walls you erected to keep him out. Joker still managed to tear down each one to get to you.
And today, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and let the last wall crumble down.
"You're right. I.. I'm in love." You whispered to your reflection. The smile that stared back confirmed it.
It was the only thought on your mind for three days straight.
In the meantime..
You finally got around to cleaning your apartment– from the vaulted ceilings down to the decorative rugs. Every nook and cranny in between had been cleaned.
The balcony doors were left open to circulate fresh air into the place to expel all of the strong chemicals you mixed to clean while Dick kept his promise and helped when something was out of your reach or too heavy to lift.
He became concerned when you opted out on wearing a mask to mix Pine-Sol and Comet together.
"Are you trying to kill us?!" He coughed and gagged when you added bleach and Ajax into the strong concoction. Was it supposed to sizzle like that?!
"I'm tryna kill the germs, yeah." Men were such lightweights. You'd been mixing chemicals to clean since you were a kid.
He's lucky you didn't bust out the Fabuloso.
As the fumes died down, you made an extensive grocery list and glared at Dick for depleting your fridge and cupboards in such a short amount of time.
Did he not eat at home? You knew he stayed at Wayne manor periodically and Alfred was a beast in the kitchen, so there was no excuse there.
You didn't know his living situation back home in Blüdhaven but still. Why did he raid your fridge every time he came over?
He laughed it off and mentioned he would foot the bill plus the delivery cost since it would be too much for the both of you to haul back on your own. He went ahead and included the necessary things for the scheduled dinner party and you cringed at the total.
He didn't bat an eyelash at the number and swiped his black credit card. Dick Grayson got moneeeeeeey!
Mind you, you did too, but old money tends to hit a lot more differently.
With the penthouse clean enough to meet your high standards and everything prepared for Thursday, you and Dick spent the remainder of the week catching up and lounging around.
Dick preoccupied his time by watching a popular tv series. You bid yours toiling in front of your laptop. The sound of your fingers flying over the keys floated throughout the penthouse and it was just like old times.
There was a sense of calmness that you hadn't felt in quite some time. You almost forgot that you were deeply involved with Gotham's City's most wanted criminal. Almost.
A startling reminder of your predicament flashed on the tv screen late Wednesday night. You were working on your wip on the floor while Dick relaxed on the couch after dinner.
You recognized GCN's nightly female reporter's voice as she drowned on about some political news before getting to the segment headliner.
"Now onto developing news. Sightings of the notorious Joker shook the Roanoke Mall early this afternoon. Local shoppers were terrified to discover the clown was among them, not as a terrorist, but as a consumer. Our correspondent Emily Vega reports. Emily."
The coverage panned from the studio to a blonde who was standing next to an eyewitness.
Emily nodded for a full minute before giving a delayed greeting. She then recapped the situation before handing the mic over to the witness.
GCN flashed their name and title on a banner yet you paid no attention.
"It was crazy! One minute everything was fine, the next The Joker and a few of his crew came strolling in, lookin' around! I thought they were gonna rob the place but get this! He just walked up to the counter and asked for one of my coworkers. I was scared because you don't just talk to The Joker without you know." They made a throat cutting gesture before continuing.
"Yeah, him and Rick just talked in the corner and right when I thought, yeah we're gonna die, keep in mind Rick ain't the best talker; The Joker bought somethin'! Paid in cash, asked for gift wrapping, and everything! You know when I stop and think bout it.. he's actually a nice guy..."
Emily jerked the microphone back and quickly ended the segment. "Reporting live from Jacob and Co. back to the studio."
The time on the clock tower behind her put the initial interview around midday.
Apparently this happened earlier and GCN was resharing the information, you surmised.
"Very scary. Thank you Emily. Management at Jacob and Co. known for their pricey custom jewelry, refused to comment on what exactly was discussed and purchased by The Joker, but the GCPD has since taken over the investigation with hopes of his recapture being imminent. As of today, The Joker remains at large for three long months. When more information arises, count on GCN to report it to you live. Now onto the recent missing persons report of a controversial photographer Ivan...."
You jumped when Dick spoke up.
"A nice guy? Are they even talking about the same Joker? Him and nice in the same sentence? He probably threatened the employees to keep quiet. Geez, when will the people of Gotham learn that The Joker is extremely dangerous?" Dick preached from your couch.
You enjoyed when Dick got passionate about things and ranted but this anger felt personal somehow..
You trailed your eyes away from him and back to the tv screen.
The reporter was going on about the missing paparazzi but your mind was elsewhere. Dick looked at you when you hummed aloud. "Huh. I wonder what he bought."
You locked eyes with Dick who looked anything but amused by your random thought. "What?" You asked.
"That's what you're thinking about Y/n? Not the fact a wanted man walked into a jewelry store and walked out without the authorities being called, but about what he purchased?No one sees the problem here! On that note, I'm going to bed and you should too. We got a big day tomorrow."
Dick turned off the tv and stepped over you to head to bed.
You were left stunned in the dark after his outburst but still thinking about what J bought.
Jacob and Co. was rather pricey and it just so happened to be the same jeweler you bought most of your favorite pieces from.
What was Joker up to?
"I'll know soon enough I guess." You mumbled to yourself. Dick did have a point though.
Tomorrow was a big day and you needed all of the rest you could get. Joker looked alright on tv so that put your mind at ease to start your nightly routine for bed.
Finally it was Thursday.
You really didn't want to entertain guests today but the sooner you did, the faster you could send everyone home and call for Joker to return.
You were missing him more and more by the day.
It was the mantra that motivated you to wake up and get ready. Dick stated all you had to do was look pretty and open the door, so you followed his instructions.
Once you washed up, you donned a simple but stylish denim jumpsuit. You didn't bother with shoes and let your freshly painted toes add a pop of color to your ensemble.
You also choose to wear your hair down for a change and tucked the excess back behind your ears.
When you opened your bedroom door, an explosion of smells hit your nostrils. Dick was already in the kitchen with his Kiss the Cook apron on (it looked better on Joker) over a pair of shorts and a simple tee.
Dick's natural looks could make anything look high end. He noticed you hesitating in the archway and beckoned you over with a loud greeting.
"Good morning Y/n/n!! I'm just chopping up some veggies and finishing up the marinade for the meat. Wanna help?"
You shrugged and walked over. It was then you saw the unorganized chaos Dick was orchestrating.
"Chile, what's on the menu?" You chuckled.
"I'm glad you asked! Your dad and I are bbq three types of meat, the slaw is in the fridge; ready to mix. Beans are prepped for the oven. Mom is bringing the greens since I couldn't find collards in this wretched city to save my life... We'll have pasta and potato salad as vegan options for her. I do need you to make cornbread and the Mac and cheese however." He grinned at you.
Your eyes bugged at the menu presented. Good thing you went ahead and decorated the table against Dick's instructions. Nothing serious he said.. this was a banquet!
But then you replayed his speech and stopped short.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to do anything but look cute and open the door, Grayson?" You crossed your arms with a playful grin.
He noticed it and groaned. Of course you caught his quickly spoken request.
"C'mon.. Y/n! You make the best Mac and cheese I've ever tasted and I.. always overcook the cornbread." He looked away, dejected.
You snorted and got out the necessary ingredients before tossing your insult over your shoulder. "That's because you ain't got no ancestors to tell you how to season."
You laughed at his butthurt face.
"Funny. Real funny." He griped.
The two of you quickly found a rhythm in the spacious kitchen to finish preparing everything before the guests arrived. Time got away from you both but around noon, there was a knock on the door.
Dick was elbows deep in potatoes so you quickly wiped your hands clean and made for the front. "Coming!"
You opened the door to Barbara and Morgana's wide smiles.
"Did someone order your favorite dessert?" Barbara sang while pointing to the big travel container in her lap. You squealed and let them in. "You baked?!"
"I sure did! I made all your favorites and Dick asked for a pie. Weirdo." She let Morgana push her in so she could keep a good grip on the sweets.
You eyed Morgana empty hands and arched an eyebrow. "Uhhh what did you bring?"
"Myself, thank you." She jokingly quipped.
You held back a laugh. There was always that one person at the cookout who came empty handed. You never guessed it would be her.
Though not surprising, Morgana busted out bottles of alcohol from thin air and started mixing a fruity sangria and a separate nonalcoholic lemonade batch for the party. You just shook your head at your friend. Where she kept magically procuring alcohol from, you'll never figure out.
You left the two girls to their mixing to help Dick back inside the kitchen.
More time passed and the penthouse was abuzz with more delicious aromas and laughter. You barely heard the doorbell since Barbara tapped into your speakers and started a playlist for everyone.
Luckily Morgana heard it and moseyed over to answer it. She opened the door, drink in hand, but quickly dropped everything to help the esteemed guests inside.
"Grayson! Those ribs better be on the grill!"
You and Dick froze after hearing the loud, but familiar, bellowing voice.
He dropped a mixing spoon on the floor and locked eyes with you. After that, it was a race to see who could hug them first.
Naturally he beat you to the living room simply because you stopped about halfway at the sight.
You hadn't seen your parents for an entire year and my, how nothing changed.
Your dad was still tall and imposing with his split eyebrow and sharp features. He had a protective arm wrapped around your mother who literally seemed to be invincible to age. The only factor to hint at it was the tasteful streaks of grey in her luscious hair. And quite frankly, it could pass as a money piece hair dye.
Other than that, the two of you could be twins.
Time seemed to stop when two pairs of e/c locked paths. The bushel of greens in her hands were passed off to her husband the moment she saw your eyes water.
"Mama..."
Everyone in the room watched the long awaited reunion. You didn't care how old you were; you hadn't seen your mother in a year. So much happened since then that your emotions simply got the better of you.
You moved out for the first time to a completely different city. You were held at gun and knifepoint, almost killed at your charity, rescued from said event and then abducted from your home by a schizophrenic, former district attorney. You've been through so much without your mother's shoulder to lean on.
Everything just came pouring out. You weren't making a lick of sense, but she just hugged you closer and petted your hair.
"My baby! What did this mean ol' city do to you? Dry your tears, love. Oh don't you look so beautiful, doesn't she honey?" She twisted a bit so your father could join the hug.
He too was a little misty eyed but real men didn't shed tears. Okay, maybe one or two.
"Yeah she does! Both of my girls are." He kissed both your forehead and his wife's before smiling down at his armful.
The family was back together.
"C-Can I join the family hug please?" The three of you looked over at Dick who was bashfully waiting his turn.
Morgana and Barbara both called him an idiot but much to their surprise, he was snatched up by your father and inducted into the hug. Apparently he was part of the family after all. Who would've thought?
Your mother let you go with a wet chuckle and started to dote on Grayson.
"And look at you! Ack! You look so pale! Have you been getting your necessary nutrients? What about you Y/n? You both look so skinny! Lemme go put these greens on so y'all can eat. C'mon on Y/n! We can catch up while we pick 'em!"
You wiped your face dry. "Yes ma'am."
You weren't that skinny right? You shared a look with Dick who— mind you, was all muscle, and fit as can be. He rolled his eyes not believing it either.
You look fine, he mouthed to you before your dad slapped him loudly on the back. It sounded like a clap of thunder. Dick hardly budged at the impact.
"I'm serious boy. If them ribs ain't on the grill by now, you done screwed up." Your dad bellowed.
They shared a laugh as they made their way to the balcony where the grill was indeed steady cooking the various meat for the feast. That left the girls to gather in the kitchen, sharing laughs and jokes about your year so far living in the city.
Your mom was placing a lid on a boiling pot when Barbara continued the recap. "We finally got her to go out clubbing with us!"
Morgana quickly swallowed her drink and added, "Yeah Mrs. Y/L/N, we were flown out to ATL and had a blast!"
"Really? My Y/n at a club? I'd pay money to see that." Your mom joked. You flushed red and whined, "Ma.."
"Don't Ma me. I'm so used to you indoors with a book in hand. Or better yet, writing one. I'm still waiting for a tour of the place. Your royalties but be something else to afford the top floor."
You jumped to attention and did just that.
Even though Barbara had been over numerous times, she came along as well as Morgana. Being the new friend of the circle, Morgana didn't have the opportunity to venture past your living room and was excited to see the rest of the place in its entirety.
"Four bedrooms, one of them is empty at the moment. Two and a half baths. A massive storage room, my own laundry room, two private balconies and have you seen this view?" You led everyone past your sunroom and out to the balcony where Dad and Dick were glazing the ribs with bbq sauce.
Your mother gasped in awe after you mentioned the view.
She could see Dini Highway from here, it was incredible. Yet the verdict was still out. "Are you happy here?"
You were stealing a taste of the sauce while your dad wasn't looking but heard the question. "Uh.. yeah! I love it here, Mom. I tell you and dad that all the time when I call."
"Then why didn't you show us your room?"
Morgana choked on her drink. Barbara and Dick pointedly looked away and your Dad noticed all of this and addressed the elephant in the room.. or correction; balcony.
"Y/n. You're not isolating yourself again are you? We talked about this... It ain't healthy." He sighed.
Your mother, being a doctor, nodded in agreement alongside him.
You were on your own since your friends weren't entering this fight but thankfully the doorbell ringing saved you. You dodged that awkward bullet. Saved by the bell.
You padded back inside to the foyer and opened the front door, although you quickly wished that you hadn't.
"Ayyyyyy!! Sorry we late! We bought Tequila!" Florence cried out before giving you a hug. She bounced you around in a circle yet your attention was on her plus one standing behind her.
Neo held up the two decorative tequila bottles and winked. Lovely. Florence and booze. What could possibly go wrong?
By the time Florence and her date arrived, the food was ready.
You called everyone over to your dinner table where the vast spread spanned the massive table. Dick brought over the steaming cuts of meat and set them center stage around the other side dishes and fixings to eat.
"This is a lot of food.." Barbara awed.
"Yes indeed! We can thank Grayson for buying and cooking it all but most importantly, let's thank Him. May we bow?"
The table nodded and began to bow their heads. As you were closing your eyes, you spotted Neo rolling his.
Rude, but what could you say? You weren't about to force your family's religion on anyone. It was optional.
Your mom ended Grace beautifully and prompted everyone to dig in. Her and Dick really worked hard to get everything on the table and you could hear multiple stomachs growling; everything looked so good.
The sound of fine china rattling and polite chatter filled the air.
"Mr. Y/L/N, Y/n told me that you don't drink so I made a nonalcoholic version for you." Morgana said while pouring your dad a glass.
She was making her way around the table, filling up everyone's glasses with their selected drink before taking a seat next to you.
"Heh, thanks. Twelve years and I don't wanna get yelled at by my girls." As soon as he said that, you and your mom stared him down like a hawk.
"My point exactly." He laughed while taking a sip. "Mmph, that's good! Might steal that recipe from you Morgana!"
"See Y/n. My non-alcoholic drinks are just as good as the original." She raised her glass to your father at the head of the table, opposite of you.
Your mom was seated to his left and sipped his choice just to make sure. Not bad at all.
She remembered you saying on a call that Morgana and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group. Not that she didn't trust them, but the virgin drinks looked the same as the alcohol infused one that Florence was tipping back.
Florence looked over at your mom who was seated to her right and smiled. Dick was serving Neo a portion of bbq at the end of the table, on your right.
Dick didn't know the guy but he came with Florence so he couldn't say much. He honestly just seated him next to you since it was the only empty seat left.
Once Dick sat down in his own seat, (on your dad's right and Barbara's left) he whispered in her ear asking who Neo was.
"Florence's client/boyfriend. He's the one that flew us out to Atlanta." Barbara whispered back.
Dick nodded briefly and sized the guy up.
His experience as Nightwing told him this man was bad news. But you seemed to be at ease around him if the pointed glares you sent his way were any indication. You were a good judge of character so Dick wasn't that worried.
Everyone was eating and tossing stories back and forth over dinner when the doorbell rang again.
You frowned and sat your fork down, looking down the table at Dick. "....You expecting anyone else? You only said eight plate settings."
He was already asking Barbara and Morgana to slide down to make room. Not like they needed to move, since your table was already long enough and technically could seat twelve— but you were curious as to who else he invited.
"Aren't you going to answer the door sweetheart?" Your mother scolded you.
She taught you manners so you scooted your chair back to go answer the door. You didn't check the peephole before swinging the door open.
You blinked a mile a minute when Bruce Wayne stood in your small hallway holding a black bag. "Bruce?"
"Good evening. I apologize for being late. Work held me longer than I was expecting. May I come in?" He was dressed casually in a dark shirt and slacks and dang it, he looked good.
"Uhhhh.. I guess?" You stepped aside to let him come in as you mentally berated yourself for thinking about Bruce in such a way.
That chapter is closed Y/n. You have Joker now. Why are you even looking at Bruce like that? He's easy on the eyes, but girl! J is built different out here! He all types of daddy.
You nodded to yourself and closed the front door. When you returned to the dining room, everyone had greeted Bruce (except Neo of course) with open arms.
"Y/n!! You didn't tell me you knew Bruce Wayne!!" Your mother was over the moon at the possibilities.
You fixed her with a deadpan glare and gestured to Dick. "Mom. Dick Grayson is right there, whatchu mean?"
"She has a point, babe." You dad came to your defense. The two men were a packaged deal.
Dick waved at his guardian when he sat down at your left. Of course Dick updated the seating so this could happen. Sneaky little..
"This food looks amazing! Once again I apologize for arriving so late." The businessman mused as your mother personally fixed him a plate.
You joined Neo in giving Wayne an annoyed glare. Florence noticed the two of you shared reactions far too similar for it to be a coincidence.
Bruce asked for a little of everything and leaned over to ask you a question. "Is that your mother or your sister, Y/n?"
Your mom laughed and gave him a generous serving of potato salad after overhearing his genuine query.
"Y/n! Is he always this gregarious?" She swatted his broad shoulders as she made it back to her seat.
Everyone was off in their own sidebar conversations but you still attempted to reply to your mother from across the table. "Uh, sure I guess. I-I mean, I wouldn't know.."
"You don't know? Dick told us you stayed with Wayne for two weeks." Your dad said at the head of the table.
Your mom agreed with him and added, "..and you said you enjoyed this past weekend away out of town. I thought it was with Bruce."
Neo snickered into his glass and thus stole the table's attention. He had been quiet for the duration of dinner but he couldn't contain his comment any longer. "Oh she enjoyed her weekend alright. Not with him tho."
The entire table went dead silent.
You weren't the only one staring at the club owner in shock. Was he being serious right now? You kicked him under the table but he didn't seem phased.
Florence was also quiet, reading into things more than she should've, and grew way too curious over time. She had to know about this weird chemistry between you and Neo.
"How would you know? You told me you had business to attend to over the weekend." Her nails tapped erratically against her glass, making Barbara and Morgana tense.
Neo scoffed. "I did. Someone had to keep Princess safe."
Your mother choked on her lemonade and Bruce narrowed his eyes at this shady guy. He didn't like how he used a pet name so casually with you.
Your jaw dropped and stared at Neo as if he grew a second head. He hadn't used that nickname for you in ages.
Florence eyed Neo briefly and laughed at your bewildered face. "Oh.. okay! Okay. I see what's good. So y'all f__king, huh?"
"Oh s__t." Barbara smacked Dick's arm for interrupting but returned to watch the drama unfolding. That didn't stop his mouth from running. "Wait.. is this Neo guy your Prince Charming, Y/n/n?"
"What?! No!" You denied.
"D__n right. I ain't no prince." He replied over a forkful of beans.
You glared at him. "You aren't helping." He just shrugged and returned your kick under the table, although a lot harder. You blinked back the pain.
"Wooooooow. And here I thought we were friends, Y/n. Going behind my back? After you encouraged me to get with him at his club." Florence chuckled once, it was filled with pent up frustration.
She was getting heated and the alcohol wasn't helping things. "This some real snake behavior." She added.
"Sweetheart, is this true?" Your mother asked gently.
Finally someone was doubting things here! You grabbed onto her lifeline and didn't let go. "No, Mom! Neo and I aren't even like that...." You gestured wildly between you and him.
Why did Dick seat him at your right hand side?! This looked worse than it was.
"Then what the f__k are you two then? Cuz to me, y'all way too close with y'all knowing glares, him calling you Princess and s__t. Why is he protecting you'over the weekend' and why you just sitting there acting all hush hush and shady b__h?"
Your father coughed into his fist. He swore like a sailor but this conversation was getting a little rowdy even for his standards.
A few seats down, Morgana was still eating, watching everything unfold like it was a tv drama. Traitor..
"What you gotta say in all this?" Florence fired at her date, "Ion like how you sitting there looking all smug."
Neo pointed to himself and laughed. "Ohhh, you want me to speak now?" He asked.
"Yeah! Yeah I do. So speak!" Flo fired back.
He nodded and caught your eye. "You want me to tell them the truth, Y/n?"
All eyes turned to you. You were choking on air, unable to breathe. This was not happening. "Y-You... We can't.. Neo.. don't." You gripped the table till your knuckles turned white.
"Okay, I think Y/n needs some fresh air right now." Barbara began. Florence shot down that suggestion real quick.
"Nah she don't need s__t except a good explanation or her feelings won't be the only thing hurtin. I suggest you start talking hoe."
"Watch it now, Flo." Your dad warned.
He didn't like where this conversation was going but he'd do his best to keep the peace and get to the bottom of things, civilly.
The Haitian scooted back from the table to take a breath. She started counting under the breath. No one was ready for when she reached ten.
"Y/n.. seriously this is getting weird.. are you and Neo.. you know.." Barbara hesitated.
"NO! I don't even like the guy! Not after the crap he pulled at Luigi's.."
He tossed his head back with a groan. "Bruhh. That's in the past Y/L. Can we please move on from dat?"
"Lugi's pizza? Y/n. Did this happen the same time we went on a date? Now that you mention it.. You came back from that bathroom break quite distraught." Bruce quickly rounded on Neo. "What did you do to Y/n?"
"None of your business, Wanye." Neo bit back just as fiercely.
"Not you pulling two pulling two hotties at the same time Y/n. You is devious!" Morgana cackled. Dick waved her off and she eyed him until he spoke.
"That'll be an incorrect calculation my dear, Morgana. It's actually three judging by the clothing size I found in her guest bedroom."
You buried your head in your hands. Whhhhhhyyyyyy did Dick have to open his mouth?
"OH! SO YOU BEEN SLEEPING HERE TOO?!" Florence shouted at her now ex.
Neo looked distraught when she stood up from her seat and stormed towards your guest rooms.
You had to think for a second before getting up too. Joker's clothes were still in there. Why didn't you move his stuff into your room earlier?!
"Flo, wait!!" You ran after her. Bruce wanted to see this for himself and followed behind you.
Your father tossed his napkin on the table as he shook his head at his wife.
"I didn't raise no hoe, (your mother's name.)" She winced but laughed to lighten up the mood. "Hmm, that is true but you married one."
Morgana snorted when Dick gagged. "You're acting like they're your parents.
"They are." He was still cringing when a series of shouts came from the back. Everyone still seated at the table waited for anything since they couldn't hear what was being said.
Florence stormed back into the dining room to thrust a dress shirt into Neo's face. He was a pillar of stone. His visage never wavered at the evidence literally being thrown in his face.
"Why did I find the shirt I bought you in her closet?!"
You finally caught up with Florence in the dining room, who staring at her date venomously.
Bruce stood behind you, silently demanding answers as well, but for his own selfish reasons. He saw some things in your guest bedroom that made him question who this lover of yours truly was..
"A black dress shirt Flo? That's rather vague to use as evidence." Barbara sighed. "Every guy owns like a dozen of them."
"Aht. Try again. You got me messed up if I don't remember my purchases. This Armani baby and Giorgio ain't cheap. Is this the dress suit I bought you a few months back?" She asked her stoic date.
Everyone looked at Neo who was mid sip of his drink. He glanced at the label before looking up into your pleading eyes behind Florence. "Yeah it's mine."
He didn't comment that she bought the wrong size. She was already fired hot, including that fact would be more insult to injury.
You didn't understand why Neo was lying. Joker only wore his custom purple suits and the casual clothes that he bought.
You knew he had an array of disguises at his disposal and that black suit was the same one he wore to Euphoria. You had no clue it was actually Neo's, given to his boss last minute to blend in with the employees at the club.
It suited Joker better than Neo if you were the judge of things but now was not the time.
Unfortunately, Neo being the owner was the truth and that did not help your case right now. Your silence, the newfound evidence.. It all pointed at you and Neo having an affair behind Florence's back.
And you refused to lose one of your friends all because of a misunderstanding.
For starters, it was hard for you to make friends and you and Flo were childhood friends at that. The two of you argued over the years and had some fights, but nothing like this. It was never over a guy.
She was the popular cheerleader in highschool. You were the quiet girl from the poetry club; two different circles that would never share the same love interests.
Morgana's gasp and Barbara's look of distrust was breaking your heart.
You broke the girl code and by default, they were taking Florence's side. These were your only friends in life.
Was Joker worth this heartbreak? How could you fix this complete misunderstanding while also keeping Joker a secret?
You felt Bruce's hands settle on your shoulders and the weight of it didn't feel comforting. Everyone in this room was against you. How could he be any different?
It was the worst feeling ever being all alone against the odds. You had the instinctual urge to run.
Bruce didn't give you the chance. "Y/n. It might not be appropriate to ask, but is he the reason why you broke things off with me?"
Everyone jumped when your mom groaned in pain. "Babe, are you okay?!" Your dad asked. Now was not the time for medical emergencies!!
Your mom clutched her chest in agony. "No, I am not OK! Our baby fumbled the bag with The Bruce Wayne for this common street thug? Where did we go wrong?" She sobbed.
"D__n, I'm right here." Neo grumbled. He overlooked how everyone here assumed he was a thug. They weren't wrong.. but dang.
Dick came to his adoptive mother's aid. You should've known anything else from his mouth tonight would be unhelpful. Dick lived for drama.
"Exactly ma! I can see why you don't wanna date the old man, Y/n, but I'm not convinced this guy here is your lover boy. He doesn't look anything like Prince Charming from the gossip magazine!" Dick said.
You wanted to choke him right then and there. Then, you wanted the floor to swallow you up. The entire room was confused until your mother spoke up. "What gossip magazine?"
"Dick, please.." You pleaded in vain.
Nothing would stop him when he was the center of attention. He grinned wide and rushed into the kitchen to grab that long forgotten magazine and held it up for your parents to see.
"This one! Our dear Y/n had quite the weekend with her Prince Charming."
Your father snatched the mag from Grayson and read it over. His eyes widened before he passed it around the table.
One after another your friends and family read about your privacy being violated, printed for the whole world to see, before the magazine landed in Florence's hands.
She took the longest to read the article and for good reason.
"He looks familiar..." She mumbled.
You and Neo paled at the same time.
Florence was drunk that Thursday night at Euphoria but she got a good look at Joker even with his disguise in place. The VIP floor was dark but not dark enough to conceal noticeable scars like Joker's. Your panic attack was back and raging harder than before.
"How... how long have you two been together, Y/n?" She asked you. When you didn't answer, she continued. "Why did I even ask? It doesn't matter. Y'all two were on some secret bull___t that night at the club. I knew I recognized him from somewhere!"
She didn't say who the him in her sentence was but it was practically obvious. Your greatest fear was being realized.
Neo must've come to the same realization because his entire demeanor changed. Flo quickly crossed the room to get into your personal space. "How long Y/n?!"
Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics.
Your audience wasn't too far behind given the sudden change in the air. Florence wasn't messing around anymore. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Your father was scolding Dick for starting all of this, whereas your mother, Barbara, and Morgana were screaming at Florence to chill.
Much to your shock, Bruce was a silent brick wall behind you. He didn't offer you protection or a means to escape. You were rooted in place by his strong hands on your shoulders.
Neo saw your distress and braved the fray to try and to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead. "I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"
"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.
"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"
He didn't let Flo get far and grabbed her before she could whirl back on you.
"Get the f__k off me Neo! I know! And how could you let her!! Of all people, why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"
"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.." You pleaded. That seemed to ignite her anger more.
Nothing was making sense. She couldn't seem to understand why you were so calm about all of this. Maybe she guessed wrong? No! She knew who she saw....
She broke free from Neo's hold and snarled right in your face. "Both of you are insane. You two deserve each other."
With that said, she grabbed her purse from the foyer closet and walked out, slamming the door behind her.
You were left with chills running down your spine. Florence knew. She had to. Both of you are insane.
Her harsh words echoed in your ear. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.
Neo was on the same wavelength since a dark shadow crossed his features before he took off after her.
You couldn't think straight amidst all of the chaos. Your own thoughts and fears were drowning out the mayhem that was in your dining room.
Everyone was talking over one another but to you, it all sounded like you were underwater. Those two words were on repeat in your head.
Florence knows. She knows about Joker.
And if the night wasn't theatrical enough, you fainted right into Bruce's awaiting arms.
#ledger joker x reader#ledger joker#black!fem!reader#heath joker#dark knight joker#joker x y/n#joker x reader#reader insert#heath ledger#yandere#Long Reads#a03 writer#romance#angst#cross posted on AO3#cross posted on wattpad#his lighthouse#Spotify
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I’m massive
It all started about 7 months ago. It was so sudden too! This 6’7 guy and I hooked up at a party in college, after a hot night of sex with petty much a giant I never saw him again. This asshole…. After a month or so I realized my period was late. It’s never late. I went directly to the nearest pharmacy. I was so nervous that I had to stop for some fast food. What kind? The greasiest, most filling, most oily burgers In town. Either way, I bought a pregnancy test and sure enough.. I was pregnant… me, Tiffany… the 4’9 girl with black hair, always dressed in nice cardigans and tank tops, with jeans and my books in my hands.
I was pregnant with the baby of a 6’7 giant dude… who knows what kind of bay he was!! I was so sure I was gonna become huge! This guy was probably some sort of 15lbs mega baby! And now I’m growing his offspring inside me!
it was surreal! What was the next thing I did? I ordered a pizza, an Xlarge extra cheese extra peperoni pizza to go for myself. I tend to eat a lot in stressful situations and I knew this was not gonna be easy.
I called my bestie, jessie. For all I knew she was the only person there for me now
“Hey jessie…”
“Hey tiff, what’s up?”
“Can we... meet up at my house? I gotta tell you something.”
“Sure sweetie, Ill be there at 6 after work”
What was I going to do! I drove home and simply sat on the couch while eating my pizza. I kept thinking about this super baby growing inside me… oh fuck what if it was twins!!!! Can I even carry 2 15-pound babies!?
The thoughts kept racing through my head and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.. I’m 4’9! I’m gonna look huge before my third trimester! What the hell!
As I finished the pizza, the door rang. It was jessie. I got up from my seat, I was stuffed at the time I remember. Every thought in my mind was pointing at the fact that I’m gonna become huge
“j-jessie..”
“tiff what’s wrong? You’re scaring me”
“come on in..”
We both sat on the couch, and I had in my hand the pregnancy test and showed it to her
“omg sweetie! You’re pregnant?!”
“y-yeah…”
“who’s the father?”
“remember Sean? The guy I hooked up last month with?”
“the giant dude? The one that could probably pick you up with his hands?”
“yeah….”
“omg…. Well..holy… shit…”
I nodded, she’s right… I don’t even know if I’ll b able to birth them properly! They might have to open me. Although there is something I won’t be able to deny for long. I’m about to get absolutely massive.
I didn’t even know how I was gonna deal with it. And what if they were twins?! What would happen if I was growing this giant’s super babies?! Fuck!! I’m only a short girl!
My fear wasn’t without reason, the next few weeks I noticed my bump growing, and not at a slow rate. After only 3 weeks I was already showing a small bump. When I went for my first ultra sound after only 2 months, I was already having trouble fitting in my clothes. The baby inside me kept me constantly hungry too so eating was a must. I probably kept stuffing myself for those 2 months every day. I know more than half of the weight I put on was not baby weight.
“nnnngh!! Get. Pass. My. Giant. Butt you stupid jeans!!! Nnghphh…” getting my favorites jeans to fit was a constant struggle, my thighs had become huge. A single one was as thick as both my skinny thighs together.
“come onnnnnnn… why won’t this shirt cover me!!!” my belly was getting amazingly big every day. My shirts were barely able to cover me past my belly button and still my underbelly would be in the wide open. I was fast becoming a pregnant cow eating a sandwich while waddling down the street.
My second ultra sound was the big one. It’s where I found out something I was suspecting after a few months.
“good afternoon miss… Wolfson? That’s a peculiar name..”
“it’s a made up name doc… I changed it..”
“oh that explains it.. well how is momma-to-be today?”
“massive..”
“I can see that and I can see you’re only 3 months in? it’s certainly normal to be your size when you have multiples, specially if you’ve been eating”
“wait… multiples?” I didn’t know what he meant by that! How can I carry more than one 15lbs baby?!
“sure! You didn’t think you were only having one did you? Let me get the machine set up” he moved around the bed getting the ultrasound machine and using the probe to rub this gel on my tum. My belly button was already having a hard time being shallow, soon it would pop. But what worried me were my boobs who went from a b cup all the way to a double D after only 4 months. Still my belly was the one thing that was big enough to cover my feet eliminating any hope I would see them again.
As he used the probe moving it around an image started appearing.
“there I see one head…. 2…”
“2?! Doc are you sure?”
“oh yes and.. oh? Look number 3!”
“3?! Doc I can’t ne carrying three babies!”
“no you’re right because I’m seeing baby number 4 right there”
4!!! 4 babies! Four massive babies growing inside my 4’9 body!! How the hell! He must have had some super sperm or something! Because ain’t no way I was carrying 4 over developed babies!
“d-doc… are you sure?”
“yeah and I think that’s it. Well given your condition you’re gonna have to go into a strict diet and make sure your babies are well fed. At the end of the line you might have to adjust your house or apartment If you don’t have a nurse in order to move around. It can certainly be a challenge and you will most likely be bed bound by the end of it. So please do take necessary precautions to prevent anything from happening”
I could not believe it… I was carrying 4… and not from some skinny 5’7 guy, these were from a 6’7 massive dude that I could tell he was some sort of mutant super baby! And I’m carrying 4 of him!
I immediately went to the first fast food place I could find and ordered 5 of the biggest burger meals they had. Why? Because I need to eat!
My belly was already massive I front of me, but as I ate my belly button started to show up, my shirt riding over it and people just staring. I guess it’s not everyday you see a super pregnant girl eat in public like this.
the more the months passed, the more I grew not only my bump but I also started getting fatter. Way fatter than what I should be. My arms started developing fat around them, my thighs and ass grew and grew more but my belly stuck out so far in front of my it rubbed against the steering wheel of my car every time I drove. It was also getting hard getting through door frames. The skinny 4’9 girl soon became a 300lbs brood mother carrying 60lbs of pure babies.
At my 7 month, it was already getting hard enough to walk around at all. My bump towered over me each morning. All I could see was this mountain of flesh on top of me, my boobs almost smothered me in my sleep. I could not see them but I could tell I started leaking a lot. Not only that but getting around my belly to satisfy my needs was getting to be a challenge too. I had to fit a remote-control vibrator to my bed and lay on it if I needed some release.
I went to see jessie on one occasion, she was so In love with this new form of mine every time we saw each other she would rub lotion on me and talk to my babies about anything.
“oh this one time, your mommy was at the gym and she had a treadmill running competition, she ran 25km in less time that it takes you guys to kick~”
“jessie.. please don’t make them kick… they get rowdy when they start.. and it’s uncomfortable”
“I know.. but I love seeing a kick here and there~…”
At that moment one of them kicked at the surface near my belly button where jessie was and her head went for a joy ride
“aaah!~ haiiii baby! It’s me, aunt jessie!!”
“uuugh…. i.. I think I should be going..”
“okay, just take care of the babies please~”
As I got to the door I notice how close I was to the frame, my figure could barely pass through it. It’s… fuck it’s amazing.
I got into my car, sliding the seat as far back as I could and still my belly was touching the steering wheel. Driving like this was pretty uncomfortable but there was a certain kinky element to it. In the last ew months as I kept growing I’ve been getting more and more in love with my own figure. Every bite, every inconvenience like reaching the top counter or squirming in bed to try and get up was such a turn on that I was staring to get horny at the littlest things.
When I got home I looked into my bag and the horror happened
“w-where are my keys?! D-did I leave them at jessie? i… I don’t wanna drive all the way back, she would probably keep me there another hour…”
In a panic I looked around and saw that my window was open, so I jumped (“jumped”) the bush, waddled myself to my window and opened it. I threw in my purse first with my phone in it. Then as quicky as I got the idea I also did the brilliant thing of trying to get through the window. Yeah, massive quad girl with 350lbs of blubber which 75lbs were just baby was trying to get through a window. That would obviously work (sarcasm)
“nnngh.. c-come on!!! Hhhmpppfff!! Nnngh aaaah!! Get through dammit!!” I kept pulling myself through and I probably should not have done it because eventually… I got stuck…
“aaaumpf!!! G-get assed it come one!! Nnnghpppppppffff aaaha!! Nnngh!” my belly was in all display trying to get through. My ass was sticking through my jeans more than any other time and I could tell my neighbours were looking at me.
Suddenly my babies inside me started shifting, as if they knew mommy needed to squeeze through
“aammmmpppff.. mmmmphph t-that’s it babies.. aahaa.. f-fuck stop moving that much!” the moves and kicks did turn me on severely, so much that if someone passed by and saw my ass sticking out, decide to have their way with me? I would probably beg for it.
“nnnnnngh.. o-okay almost there.. mmmmmmpphh… aaha gggggrrrrrnnnnn”
And just like that the movement inside me was enough to get me passed the tight window. When I did get inside I was so damm horny I desperately tried to get my hands down there. The first thing I did was head straight to the fridge, get something to drink like a weight shake and laid on bed right on top of the vibrator. I hoped to fuck it had batteries because I was not getting up anymore… in fact.. I don’t think I would be able to in about a week..
A request I’ve been meaning to write but never found the time for it. Here it is and I hope you all enjoy it
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Insight
A/N: Part 4 of the baby daddy chronicles. An insight into Attuma and Okoye's toxic ass relationship.
Other Baby Daddy Chronicles
Couple's therapy. Okoye's mother had suggested it first after walking in on one of their explosive arguments one day.
"If you're keeping that man around, you gotta learn how to stop being so petty with him." She had said, pinching her child's arm with a scowl. "I will take the children, and you two will go like adults and air your grievances."
That's how they ended up there. Okoye slouching into the couch deep on one end while Attuma got quite comfortable on the other end, every pillow possible wedged between them.
"So, What is the goal here?" The therapist, Namor, watched the couple take turns rolling their eyes and scoffing before Attuma took liberty to answer.
"I'm doing this for my kids." He sat up a little straighter at the thought of his girls while Okoye scoffed at his bullshit.
"We're doing this cause we're toxic."
Namor, pleasantly surprised by the maturity, smiled just a bit before jotting down some notes.
"Alright. Tell me how you met. Okoye?"
She could remember it like it happened just yesterday. There was a trail she used to walk almost everyday after work. She'd take 30 minutes to decompress before she went home with all the pent up tension.
Attuma had taken to the same routine and had gotten sick of not knowing a thing about the beautiful stranger that walked the trail. One day, they just ended up talking and walking together, staying at the park for almost an hour more than they intended.
Okoye caught her smile before it got too wide as she told the wholesome story. She spared quick glances at Attuma fidgeting with his fingers as he remembered the first thing she did when he approached was punch him in mouth before exclaiming her apologies.
"When we first started it was just sex. Once I got pregnant, then he decided he wanted to date me." Okoye held a certain scorn in her voice as she remembered the tears that burnt her eyes when she realized that she was carrying his children.
"That's not true. I always wanted to be with you. You just wouldn't stop running."
"I don't run, Attuma. That shit was all you!" Subconsciously, her voice began to raise as they continued to contradict eachother.
"I asked you out plenty! You were just too scared to say yes for once!"
"Please! I was just a body to you!" Okoye sucked her teeth, waving his claims off.
"What the hell are you talking about?!" Attuma, now turned towards her began to yell to the point that Namor was afraid he might get a noise complaint about the two.
Okoye of course wouldn't let him slide. "Who the fuck are you yelling at?!"
"You! Cause you don't fucking listen!" He turned to Namor who had turned to jotting down various notes as he listened to the petty spout. "Do you see what I deal with?"
"Uh uh don't go to him for help now!" A pillow got tossed away as Okoye sprung from her seat to across over to Attuma's side of the couch. "So you got feelings for those other bitches you fucking all the time too?!"
"Here we go."
"Nah since you had feelings for me right? You fall in love with every hoe you stick your dick in?!" She continued to invade his space, kicking at his leg lightly until she got a reaction out of him.
Attuma rolled his eyes as he leaned forward to shout in her face.
"How many times I gotta tell you?! Huh? I ain't fucking nobody else!"
"Liar!" Another pillow thrown towards him now. "Fuck you!" Okoye pushed at his shoulder until he rose from his seat and caught her wrists.
"Like you so innocent..Who was that I caught all laid up on you when I went to pick the kids up last week huh?! I'll fuck up whoever you got around my kids! I don't give a shit!"
"That shit is childish! You're childish Attuma!" Okoye tried failed to break from his grip as she continued to yell profanities into his face. "Get the fuck off of me! Grimy ass hands prolly touched every bitch in town!"
She twisted and turned until she got a hand free, only to reel it back and send him a searing slap to his cheek in her rage.
The room enveloped in silence as Namor sat, too used to situations like this to really react. Okoye, feeling a ping of guilt as Attuma's cheek turned a dark shade of red due to the impact but also much to prideful and stubborn to apologize.
Attuma, face burning from the slap, only shook his head as he watched the pity tears fall from her eyes.
"Tell the girls I'll be around to get them on Saturday." He muttered, grabbing his jacket and leaving the room, making sure to slam the door on his way out.
It only took a beat of silence before Okoye slunk back down on the couch, her tears running down her face as she realized what she had done.
"I didn't mean to hit him!" She cried. "I-I just got so pissed! I couldn't think!"
Namor supplied her a box of tissues. "Well...at least now I have some idea of what I'm working with."
#attuma#alex livinalli#attoye#attuma x okoye#wakanda forever#attoye fanfic#black panther#okoye x attuma#danai gurira#mcu okoye#attoye angst#alternate universe#baby daddy
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chapter 5 - two of hearts (reprise)
3.7K words
@latenightsimping @mantorokk-writes @kitmon @thornsnvultures new series all finished :)
warnings - got eepy and didn't edit this as thoroughly as i did for other chapters
prev. chapter / masterlist
Dragging big work boots that you slapped on (you're sure they're your dad's), Mr. Kennedy's brow raises at the glum, muted gray and blue of your sweater and pants. He's standing before your ex - what was he exactly? You barely dated, after all.
Mr. Kennedy is standing before your ex-potential boyfriend, hands firm on his hips and both staring at you. He jerks his head towards Eddie, "You wanna switch partners?"
Exhausted and baggy eyes widen at once, betrayed and bug-eyed gaze flipping to Eddie in an instant. You fold your arms across your chest and 'hmph' as he stutters attempted excuses.
"I - well- you know, it'd be awkward? I just didn't wanna make things tough- we don't have to!"
"Wow," you muse, not particularly caring that Mr. Kennedy's face is stern and over this melodrama, "first you destroy my ego, and now this?" Eddie winces and you shuffle past to where your desks were smashed together, "What's a girl gotta do to get some compassion around here?"
"Nothing!" Eddie clamors after you, hands shaky and knees wobbling. He was hoping to take the coward's way out - really show his mother's far-and-away Irish blood in some silent exit. Then he wouldn't have to deal with the consequences of actually leaving.
"So, no switch?" Mr. Kennedy huffs as he sits back on his chair, "Kids."
"I honestly," Eddie waits until you look at him, swallowing the needles in his throat, "Honestly? I just figured you didn't wanna sit next to me and work with me, and I'm sorry I tried switching…" he looks away, little tears sparkling in his brown eyes, "I'm sorry for what I did to you. I should've never done it. I should've dated you for real," you're silent, peak stoicism and it makes him so nervous he just can't help but keep fucking talking, "I'm sorry I'm so dumb," he just can't help but try and break the tension with bad jabs, "I wanna throw myself into a fire every time I think about it."
And like a cornered animal, like the shrew everyone shudders at, you snap and bite, "But not before you did it?" you shush him as his pretty lying mouth opens, "You're such an asshole. You know? You know, I was excited to actually meet you because my brother and sister and all their little friends adore you," you make a big show of how your eyes crawl over him, little stinging bugs from head to toe and he feels like he's suffocating under the weight, "I wanted to see what the obsession was. And honestly, I can't see it."
You neglect to mention that at one point, you could. And it was beautiful.
He blinks, stupid lashes fluttering and stupid bambi eyes wet and stupid cherry lips wobbling with potential. Eventually, he settles on, "I'm sorry…"
And turns around in his chair to face forward - right at the blank chalkboard. At nothing.
"What hurt the most," your voice snips, rawness exposed, "was that you didn't bother calling after you left."
You don't know what you were hoping for, but it definitely wasn't this sullen silence as if he's the one hurt.
So you continue to thrash and snarl and bare your teeth, "I can't wait to deliver my yearbook bullshit. Declare that you do have layers - evil, then sweet, then evil again," he sits still, except for the incessant battering of his fingertips against the desk, no rhyme or rhythm just batting to bat, "Because you're selfish, you know, at the end of the day. You like winning more than you like being liked."
When he continues to pay you no mind, you feel crushed. You want a reaction to know he cares, and you want that more than you know that Eddie isn't the type of person to argue back when it matters. Petty debates are his hobby, but in real moments - he shuts down. You've seen it before. But that isn't how you operate, so you now walk away assuming you had less of him than when you began.
You dart out of the room, sneaking through the very back of the room and dodging Mr. Kennedy's annoyed face. You get to the parking lot, blotting little droplets from your lashes before you realize why you even care so much. Why you even want to forgive him after what he did.
Because no matter how upset you are, you still just want him to run up and loop his arm through yours and plant a fat, noisy, obnoxious Eddie Munson trademark kiss to your cheek. You feel like an idiot. You fell in love with Eddie Munson after one official date.
Normally, Jonathan drives you and the littles to school. But you didn't exactly tell him your newfound plans to ditch, so that's out of the window. Instead, you find a pay phone at the nearby gas station and dial Hungry Howie's.
"Hungry Howie’s, thank you for calling, how can I help you?" a tired drone breaks over the phone and you can imagine the person hunched over their box in the kitchen, half asleep.
"Robin's working today, right? I need to talk to her."
One fake delivery later, you were pushing open the cabin door and staring right at your dad in the kitchen. He's in a big white T-shirt you vandalized in seventh grade to say '#1 COP DAD and plain faded jeans.
"I wanted to surprise you both," he puts down the overflowing bowl of sugary cereal and wipes away the remnants of a milk mustache, "Take the whole week off, but now I'm being surprised."
"Yeah, well," you press your back to the door as it shuts, kicking off Jim's mud-stained work boots and stomping into the kitchen, "Relationships are stupid and I'm remembering why I never dated."
Eddie isn’t completely certain what Mr. Kennedy said as he ran out of class, his footfalls overlapped until he came to the fork between an exit and the foreign language hallway. Well, maybe Mr. Kennedy just sighed.
Taking the sharp corner into a long line of doors with pastes of other countries’ flags on them, Eddie pressed on a practiced path to the last door on the left. Dustin Henderson’s amateur Latin class.
He slots his face into the thin window that stretches about halfway down the door, waving a ringed hand behind the glass until Dustin finally locks eyes. Subtly, the boy shakes his head - swearing off the idea, at least until Eddie’s face becomes stern and he stomps a foot.
‘Mature’, Dustin mouths before throwing down his pencil and raising his hand and pointing over at the rack of laminated passes. He grabs the yellow one with a little stick figure next to a toilet on the right-hand side and slips out the heavy door.
Shoving Eddie out of the window’s view and into the nearby boys’ bathroom, Dustin grumbles, “This is why Suzie has to fix my Latin grade.”
“I fucked up,” Eddie wrings his hands, eyes flitting away from the good-natured and concerned face of his little right-hand man, “I need a lot of help…”
By the time Eddie’s twisted tale has wrapped up, Dustin’s left with an unhinged jaw - hands wide at his side, “How did I never hear about this?!” before Eddie can respond, he puts up a hand, “Also, that’s so mean - we all need to talk about this.”
“Not now, man,” Eddie scratches at his arm, nails scraping away the sturdy build of anxiety from the past day, “Just tell me how to fix this.”
He can see that Dustin doesn’t truly want to, but he has a big heart and so he sighs, “Alright. To get her forgiveness, you have to offer yourself up on the altar of dignity and even the score.”
Eddie’s neck snaps to check under the stalls, as if somebody had crept in during their conversation, “Don’t say shit like that out loud, man.”
“No,” Dustin punches Eddie’s shoulder, skin sticking to the leather of his jacket, “No, no! You don’t get to listen to Mike’s dumb ass all you want and then shut me out,” only when Eddie concedes with an eye roll and slumps back, does Dustin continue, jabbing a thumb into his own chest, “Because I know exactly what I’m talking about!”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie puts both hands up, “I surrender myself to your knowledge and wits.”
“Good,” the boy nods surely, “First you’re gonna tell me what she likes, we need something big. Something Mike could afford.”
“Why?”
“We’re getting rid of all that money you got and we’re spending it on her because that’s what we should do.”
“And then? Getting her presents cannot be the whole plan,” Eddie flicks the electric blue brim of Dustin’s Thinking Cap.
“And then…” Dustin throws his arms out wide, “You sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity.”
Eddie’s first thought goes to that pink and purple and blue lighting he first saw you - really saw you - under, dancing and free to the sound of sweet Stacey Q in The Sunset. You go every Wednesday and Saturday.
And he now has two days to learn a guitar cover of Two of Hearts.
“I mean, the nerve of that guy to not even come to school after that,” Barb gags, “Makes me sick!”
“Right?” Robin scoffs, shaking her head with folded arms, “I mean- what kind of person- “
“Please,” you settle onto one of the plush velvet barstools, clicking your nails against the smooth white counter, “I kinda don’t wanna talk about him right now.”
Settled against the counter by an elbow, Robin sucks in sharply, leaning over to nudge you, “Are you in the mood to see him then?”
“Huh?” you whip around, the stool screws squeaking as it spins and you catch Eddie Munson on stage - ole Sweetheart hanging over his chest and fumbling hands securing the microphone into its stand, “He’s such a fucking idiot.”
Barb nods solemnly, “This really isn’t his scene…”
Eddie’s eyes scan the crowd until he comes across the bar, and you can see his hand twitch up as if to wave. He decides against it, “Hi…” the call echoes and he winces, “Uhm, a girl that I - that I love is in the crowd tonight, and this is the song that played when I first saw her here,” he leans back, observes the group of misfits before him, and leans back in, “I also just recently realized what kind of place this is, so… I’ll be on my way soon,” and just as you think he’s finally about to begin, the devil’s forked tongue splits his lips again, “Also, you know, don’t worry about me saying anything- “ he raises a fist and you’re so mortified, “Power to the pussy and whatnot.”
And so the normally poppy and saccharine sweetness of Two of Hearts is replaced with echoing strums and the deeper tumble of Eddie Munson’s little Satanist voice. Little angelic loverboy Satanist voice.
Barb turns, red ringlets twisting and brown eyes flickering to you, she has the question on her tongue - You wanna leave? - but despite your prior complaints, you’re entirely hypnotized. Frozen on the stool with both hands stuck to your knees, eyes wide and doughy and so loving it hurts her.
She hates Eddie right now more than she ever hated Steve Harrington, but she fears that asking you to break out of this moment then perhaps it’ll send you spiraling. Which direction, she doesn’t know and she definitely doesn’t want to find out.
And you spot each other again, his chest puffs up when he notices you staring - he grins and that same twitch to wave hits his arm. And this time you’re seeing him - really seeing him - under pink and orange lights for the first time. Messy curls and pale skin and scratched, bumpy leather reflecting sunset shine and he sees you under Cupid’s magical pink lights and he thinks he’ll just about die if he can’t see you ever again.
And the lights change, flowery violet and it snaps you from his stare. You hop down from the stool, hands shaking at the realization of how ready you already are to forgive him. With knocking knees and lungs that squeeze between the gaps in your ribs, you slide down the checkered hallway into the bathroom.
Robin and Barb follow and Eddie’s already begun planning his next stage of apology.
Your locker jiggles open, door thick and stuck to the rusted frame - but eventually it pops open, just as it always does. A jumbled light blue fabric with baby pink flowers and flourishing green leaves printed over it rests on top of your textbooks. No price tag is attached but you recognize it from store windows and magazine catalogs with pretty brunettes and blondes and mannequins wearing it.
“What is it?” Barb leans against your side, peeking over your shoulder with a quirked brow.
“A dress,” you answer simply, balling your fist into your thigh and pressing until the muscle grows sore. Laura Ashley, the one you’ve wanted to wear to prom since it first was even announced.
You turn, spotting Eddie as he tries twirling around to pretend he hadn’t been watching you.
“What are you trying to do?”
Eddie kicks at the tile as if there are rocks and dirt to distract him, “Well, I had some cash that a guy paid me to take out a girl, but I fucked up by falling for her,” he shrugs, eyes fluttering from the tiled floor and the spot right between your eyes, “Fucked up even more by hurting her, so I have to try and make it right.”
And this is what you wanted, right? To be sick and twisted and see him miserable. You asked and you received and you absolutely hate it here.
“And are you hoping to get something out of this?”
He presses his lips together, thousands of little responses on his tongue, and yet none can escape - you hate how he shuts down, “It’d be nice to get back together, but I can’t expect anything when I’m the one that fucked up.”
“Eddie, I- “ you pause, laugh, and feel something hot like lava catch in your throat because you think you’re more scared about how badly you want him than you are angry at his misdemeanor.
And you can’t find a way to say that, so you turn and scamper off as the bell rings. Eddie sighs something heavy and thuds his head against the locker behind him, a heavy clang rings through his skull when suddenly the call of his name interrupts the self-pity. Dustin lingers just down the end of the hall, head and shoulders peeking past the wall as he gives an over-enthused thumbs up.
“You saw that, right?” Eddie’s bambi eyes follow Dustin as he skitters over, “Very decidedly not thumbs-up worthy.”
Dustin smacks Eddie on the shoulder, pearly whites on full display, “But she wanted to forgive you! Did you see that hesitation? We just need something incredible, something really big that she really wants.”
Eddie’s gaze flies up to the water-stained, browning ceiling tiles, “I have an idea, but it’s gonna be a huge pain in the ass.”
And for a week, you heard nothing from Eddie Munson. And for a week, you were ashamed over how heartbroken it left you - much more broken than when he initially screwed you over so royally.
Earlier today, Principal Higgins said he had to meet with you after school - theories boundless as to why, and it left you with cold sweats and a racing heart. What’s worse? Robin and Barb were sketchy about it all day. Downright refusing to look your way when you began the tale of the fucked up request.
And until you actually slip inside Higgins’ office, you were honestly thinking that perhaps they’d been replaced with heartless little science experiments that took on your friends’ shapes.
Upon entering Higgins’ office, you see the man himself adjusting a purple and yellow striped tie against his white button-down. You also see Barb and Robin and Chrissy fucking Cunningham littered around the carpeted room - leaning against walls and nestled into large indoor tree pots. And, of course, it isn’t a party unless he’s there, Eddie Munson squirming in the rightmost seat before Higgins.
“Munson came to me about your idea for a girls’ club,” Higgins gestures to the left seat, and you twitch your way into it, “I agreed under the terms that Hellfire split the drama room for your meetings. The scheduling for that will be up to you.”
Like that first fresh breath after a dunk in the pool, you feel your lungs lift. Your hands clench against the material of your floral dress - the closest you could get to that gift from Eddie without having the balls to actually wear it.
“As long as you, Barbara, Robin, and Christina don’t drop out and you can maintain proper club reports then- “ Higgins gestures to the four of you, “The club is yours. Appropriate files will be with your homeroom teacher next Monday.”
You nod slowly, arm and fingers numb as you reach over to snatch the President’s pin from Higgins’ hand. As soon as the cool metal is in your hand, the needle pokes an angry dot through your palm.
“Okay, happy ending, now shoo! Shoo!”
And with that, the mismatched group was sent lingering in the hallway - now empty of the bustling teenagers ready to be rid of the education system nightmare for the day.
“Congrats!” Chrissy Cunningham is the first to speak once you’re all out, her hand spindles against your shoulder, “I was so excited about the club when Eddie told me about it.”
“Right,” you can’t feel her hand on you, and you can’t feel it when she pulls it away - you don’t think to look for Barb and Robin. Not that you even can when there’s a sudden blur in your vision. The corners of your eyes left bubbling with this shock.
You’ve wanted this forever and you want Eddie, but you don’t think you could stomach the idea of people thinking you’re some gullible simp. And maybe he can tell because he’s quickly taking you aside.
Lovingly, he holds you, brushing hair out of your face and swallowing the pins in his throat, “I hope these are happy tears or something…” he laughs hollowly, “If not, I’m sorry.”
And the tears decide to fester on themselves, spreading like sores down the sides of your face, you think you’re really smitten with this guy. You wipe the tears and sniffle and say, “I’m so done being dramatic, but it feels like I have to be.”
Eddie shakes his head softly, and now you can feel his hands on you - they’re warm, “Why do you have to be dramatic? You’re, like, the frontman of the Individuality band.”
You wrench your face sharply, smearing the sores from under your eyes, “I just don’t wanna move too fast,” but you’re shifting closer to him, “I feel like I should be mad, but I’m not anymore, and I don’t know if this is the right way to go about everything.”
“Well, you know- I can’t make you forgive me- “
“That’s the thing, Eddie,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut so tight that not even Geoff Capes could pry them open, “I do forgive you! I forgave you ten minutes after I found out! I haven’t been mad at you, but everybody else thinks I should be and I’m just not - and that’s so fucking scary.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then his hands slide down from your arms to your hands and he feels even warmer now, “I have to show you something.”
The girls and Higgins and the nightmare of this high school drama are left behind as Eddie drags you to the drama room. He’s rambling, in his usual stupid-sweet way, with a message that basically settles into “the guys are mad at me, but they can eat rocks”.
A pink symbol of Venus lays against a blue, purple, and orange sunset on a crumbled white banner on the middle table. It’s squiggly and the colors don’t bleed into each other quite right.
“Did you paint it yourself?” you turn to Eddie.
He inhales sharply, shrugging, “Yeah, had to retry like three times.”
“And you think I’m worth all this trouble?”
“I had five more plans if this one didn’t work and you didn’t tell me off.”
Because he thinks you’re sweet and loving, and you lean in and kiss him.
And he wraps his arms around you, tight like you might suddenly slither out. He buries his face into the junction between your neck and shoulders, hair tickling the side of your face.
“I missed this,” he whispers, going lax against you, “God, I missed this.”
Suddenly, you frown and he can feel it, “I should probably redo my assignment.”
He pulls back, plucking stray hairs out of his face with a quirked brow, “You finished it?”
“Yeah,” your face grows hot at this admission, “I went on a rage bender and it was done before Jane’s bedtime.”
But he laughs, full-bodied and entirely contagious - you find yourself giggling along with him. Eddie’s head is thrown back before he sighs, shaking his head, “You should keep it, it’d be funny!”
“No way!” you lightly punch his chest, brows furrowed, “I can’t be one of those people complaining about their boyfriend - that’s crazy!”
“Then I can help, if you want,” Eddie offers, leaning back in to kiss you.
But you lean further away, a teasing smile on your lips, “Nope. I want it to be a surprise!”
“Good things?”
“You know it.”
“I have good things in mine, too.”
“I’d hope so,” you lean in to return his kiss this time, then pull back suddenly, “But don’t think you can just pull extravagant bullshit every time you mess up!”
“Of course, not,” he rolls his eyes, “There’s also smaller bouquets of flowers and trinkets and jewelry.”
You laugh and finally lean in, only to pull back again, “But seriously- !”
“I know, sweetheart,” he closes in for you, stealing a chaste peck, “I’m messing with you.”
“Good,” and you cup his cheeks this time, bringing him back in for a much harder, more passionate, very deserved kiss.
#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#10 things i hate about you#eddie.🍓#10 things i hate about you.🍹
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i dw to write meta (lazy) so i'm just gonna yell at you and hope you write it for me
i cannot stop thinking about 'mercy never defeated an enemy, master'. what a stupid, narrow thing to say, a petty little brat snipe from a child. i understand why obi-wan doesn't correct him - he is already trying to teach him One lesson and not really succeeding, Two lessons would probably send anakin into a rampage. but man, oh man, it's eating my brain right now
mercy is about power, right. the christian ideal of the powerless forgiving the opressor is the one i learned from cultural osmosis first - but actually, mercy matters most, i think, materially, when it's the powerful showing mercy to the defeated, or to those they could destroy but don't have to. mercy is a jedi thing, it's SO jedi, it's basically a jedi's first instinct when it comes to conflict, like 'let's not do this, friend, i can probably hurt you so much and i don't want to'. jedis will bring the hurt, but only when absolutely necessary. pain and suffering are things they don't want to carry into the world, or inflict on others. it's not an easy thing, mercy, it means you must empathise with an opponent, recognise that they are a being and that the harm they have done is a separate thing from them, or it can be. that choices are made every moment and that your own choices control the future of others as well. and that the best thing is not to act from revenge, or even justice, but harm reduction and generousity. jedi choose to do that, they choose to be connected to the entire galaxy via the force, it's the whole thing about emotions and attachments, you gotta let go, you gotta love the whole thing even the worst parts, because the worst parts are also important, and if they are people then they can change.
it doesn't make the jedi marks, or naive. they'll execute those to whom it would endanger others to show mercy to, when it seems necessary. palpatine would never have received mercy unless he was utterly defeated and stripped of all power to harm others - but even then, i don't know. is cutting out someone's tongue to keep them alive more merciful than just killing them? but anyway, if shown an ounce of mercy then palpatine would inflict a tonne of pain. there are those whose capacity for change is so far gone, and whose spite is so strong, that mercy would not defeat them.
but you know who mercy would defeat? anakin fucking skywalker. if he showed an ounce of mercy to himself then he would not have Fallen. Luke defeats him with mercy - and then anakin defeats palpatine by murder. if anakin showed mercy to himself in training, he'd be able to deal with obi-wan not showering him with the praise he's starving for. it's mixed with the pride and validation and maturity thing.
but also. mustafar. obi-wan did not show mercy to anakin when he was burning to death. anakin's capacity for change - was it gone? not forever, but it was very far away and damaged further by the suffering he experienced from being burned. obi-wan did not feel merciful on mustafar. and he failed to defeat his enemy.
jfc i hadnt really processed the exquisite, majestic irony of that line coming from anakin, the fact that mercy would have killed him on mustafar, and did end up killing him on death star ii. he is uniquely vulnerable to mercy, bc his capacity for mercy is what he destroyed in his fall to the dark. it's almost like mercy is his narrative achilles heel. he is vulnerable to vulnerability, weak to feeling weak, so of course he burned that weakness from his life, and he is punished for that hubris by dying in the way he sought to avoid.
the discussion of mercy always reminds me of the theory of finite and infinite games, games played to win and games played to keep playing. civilization (and the living Force) is an infinite game, while an individual's life is full of finite games. essentially by being merciless, anakin thinks he wins a particular battle, and that is what it means to defeat an enemy. obi-wan has a broader perspective, less attachment to personal outcomes, and so usually is able to exercise mercy when it’s the best way for everyone to keep playing the infinite game of civilization. mercy would have killed vader, because it was best both for him, and civilization at large.
anakin just doesn't realize that his limited kind of totally winning a particular fight comes at the cost of actually losing the infinite game. he doesn't see that being ruthless is actually a sign of weakness. showing mercy is, as you say, about power, because it's a sign of being willing to not have complete and final victory in a finite context in a way that is actually an ultimate victory. it’s about keeping that higher perspective of what winning really looks like, a form of victory that includes the best outcome for the defeated party as part of the calculus (and as you say, that outcome may not be a reward or reprieve for an individual who stubbornly presents a threat to the infinite game).
like, the sith showed no mercy to the jedi, but the jedi win in the end in every way that matters. they are strong in their willingness to take an individual loss, bc even losing a tremendous defeat in a finite context, their philosophy returns to the galaxy after sidious and the sith is destroyed. this is bc hope and love survive in all conditions, like the green growing in the cracks in the concrete. you cannot defeat the will to life. people are good, this philosophy argues, and generosity over greed is how we survive as a civilization. a sith can only win finite games, but will always lose the game of building a civilization and making it thrive, carrying life into the next generation. they are a cult of death and violence, and not to quote jurassic park, but life finds a way lol
anakin not understanding this, having a myopic, selfish, greedy orientation to life and to love, is what held him apart from the jedi, and turned him to evil. i suppose releasing that greed, feeling mercy for his son, may have led to his death, but it is also his victory in the end. he's able to join obi-wan and yoda in the force bc he was able to see beyond himself and gift civilization the chance to thrive in saving his son. that selflessness is actually the sign of both a good jedi and a good parent—giving everything to protect and encourage your vulnerable charge, until/unless they're ready to step out on their own. feeling mercy for their weakness, is what will give them strength in the end and give strength to civilization as a whole.
#you: 'i feel too lazy to write meta'#also you: drops a meta so profound it made my heart hurt into my inbox#like buddy? bro? bro?!#ouch#jfc#anakin skywalker#darth vader#obi-wan kenobi#luke skywalker#star wars#sw meta#kenobi show#kenobi spoilers#sw#long post#sorry if this rambled lol many thoughts here too
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ALSO trolley problem answers for spinder & anyone else who you think has a creative solution 👀
from this ask game
Spinder gets the point of this thought exercise but if they're going to ask such a contrived question, he's going to give a contrived answer. Which means he would learn a lot about trolleys and how easy it is to derail them (I am far from an expert but I think it would depend on the landscape. I suspect a trolley with a cable grip, like in San Francisco, is harder to derail if the cable grip is active, but idk). He's got a whole plan for derailing, or otherwise mechanically disrupting the trolley (if it stops pulling power does it stop moving? how fast can he get on the roof?). Aside from his absolute pettiness he also can't help but imagine the fallout from having vehicularly manslaughtered one or more people and he doesn't think he could deal with that.
Christina "now you're thinking with warpals" Larousse would just warp the trolley. Ideally this would happen after she already was not in the trolley, but if she has to die with it, so be it. In general, if sacrificing herself would save everyone else, she'd probably do it. But if there are other people in the trolley, as in some versions of the problem, because she's not going to sacrifice them to warp. Hypothetically she could just warp away the split in the track, thereby derailing the trolley and saving everyone. But that's a much smaller target than a trolley and harder to hit when she's moving. If she had to actually abide by the rules of the exercise she would kill the one person. Unless that one person was her father. Then she'd be so paralyzed about it that she'd do nothing and the five people would die. Which is still a lot less people than she indirectly enabled Althea to kill, but that's cold comfort.
Althea would let the five be killed without hesitation if there was a single person among them that had ever pissed her off. She doesn't really care either way, but it would feel better to get a little revenge. However, she would also switch away from a track Christina is tied to, an absolutely frigid comfort for Christina.
Vic, among others, has pointed out that if you do nothing, you're not responsible for what happens. Which is a tenuous position, but he would like it to be true. But he'd also rather kill one person than five, so make of that what you will.
Celia and Allison are still wondering what kind of Gotham-ass trolley line this is, like, first of all, how did these people get tied to the tracks? Is this some kind of a trick? Are the five people all robots and the one person a human? There's just not enough information here.
Dez would be extremely dismayed by the idea that the five people could be robots. But if they were, they have backups, right? Right? Syndy is already holding him back from steering away from the five probably-robots, because she considers herself an expert on how humans die, actually, so they can't run over the human. If the robots turn out to be humans, they are both scarred for life and also the first androids to go to jail, probably. They develop a weird game of chicken where they keep saying they're going to delete the memories but come up with reasons not to. Doing this only deals them more psychic damage.
"You just gotta kill the one person," Avis says, with total conviction and complete boredom. "That's how these puzzles work. You gotta do a shitty thing, so you have to do the least shitty version of the thing." It's a toss up if she'd automatically run over the five if she was considering whether or not to run over Sid as the one person, though.
@jezifster @kk7-rbs
#me remembering in my crack superpowers AU Cady and Tristan have time/velocity manipulation powers#Celia and Allison are extremely different and yet deep down they're the same guy#I don't think jail exists on Pajiir. but you get the idea. first androids convicted of crimes#if they deleted all of the memories related to the incident would they then lose all of their feelings surrounding the incident#c: Spinder#c: Christina#c: Althea#c: Vic#c: Celia#c: Allison#c: Dez#c: Syndy#c: Avis#backstory & motivation ask game
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Jaccard - Part Two
Ended up writing more for this fic. Part One can be read here.
660 words of Carmy dealing with the fact he hired down-on-his-luck NYC Chef to come work for him at The Bear in a moment of madness.
Still genfic at the moment, but feel free to squint and imagine whatever ship you like. :)
Instead of sleeping, Carmen fends off panic attack after panic attack throughout the night. Somewhere around 4 AM he starts wondering if his mind made it all up somehow, and Chef Frederick is still a safe 712 miles away from him in New York City.
At least he doesn’t throw up when he gets up in the morning, that’s something right?
He blinks when Frederick actually shows up, right on time and dour as ever. Okay, so not a figment of his imagination. Especially since everyone else can see him too. He introduces Frederick as the freshly hired Chef de Partie and tries not to cringe when offhandedly mentioning they’ve worked together before, but nobody asks any questions. In fact, everyone seems relieved the position got filled, and after saying hi to Frederick they move on to the order of the day.
He’s giving Frederick a quick tour of the place—fighting the urge to wipe the nervous sweat from his forehead—when Sydney asks if they can talk. Nodding, he wraps up the tour and asks Marcus if he can grab Frederick his uniform, distracted by the dread in his stomach about what exactly it is Sydney wants to talk to him about. It sounded serious.
“Hey,” she greets him, when he finds her in the pantry. “So, congrats on the new hire. Really cool that you came to me first, to discuss that, that was really nice of you.”
Shit. Another fuck-up in a long line of fuck-ups when it comes to being a good business partner to Syd.
“Sorry, I’m sorry.”
He means it, but damn if it doesn’t feel like a weak apology. He absolutely owes her the whole explanation. Even if he’s actually not that sure what the fuck happened.
“Look, he was Head Chef at the restaurant I worked at back in New York. I don’t know why I hired him yesterday, the guy made my life a living hell. I mean he really pushed me, but I think he definitely went too far, you know. But now he’s like, financially ruined or something. Something to do with coke, I don’t know. He says he’s clean now, so. Anyway, do you need me to fire him?”
Syd’s been staring at him during his rambling account of why certain things happened the way they did, looking increasingly less pissed and more concerned.
“We don’t have to get rid of him, I don't think we should, not without good reason. We really need a new Chef. But, a heads-up would’ve been nice, that’s all I’m saying. You've gotta include me in things like that, please. Even if it’s just calling to say you panicked and hired some asshole because you’re too good for this world, okay?”
His mouth twitches into a grateful smile. “Heard, Chef.”
When he steps back into the kitchen, Frederick is getting acquainted with his responsibilities while Tina keeps a watchful eye. Carmen’s obviously not worried about Frederick’s abilities, except for his ability to follow orders instead of barking them at others. The queasy feeling in his stomach returns.
Richie and Fak walking past is a nice distraction, their loud arguing so nice and normal that it’s soothing to Carmen. He isn’t even hearing the words of their argument, just lets the heated dispute wash over him while he goes over the preparations for tonight.
They’re so invested in their petty disagreement that they aren’t paying attention to where they’re going; Richie especially seems to have forgotten all kitchen etiquette. Carmen watches them from the corner of his eye and catches Richie almost bumping into Frederick.
“Watch it, Beanstalk,” Richie says. He doesn’t miss a beat, barely glancing at the new hire as he continues argueing with Fak, the two of them making their way to the backdoor.
Tina shakes her head, muttering something to herself in Spanish. Only Carmen sees the way Frederick’s eyes narrow behind his glasses.
Fuck. That better not become yet another problem.
Part Three can be found here.
#dining writes#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#NYC chef#new york chef#sydney adamu#syd adamu#tina marrero#richard jerimovich#richie jerimovich
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hi emmy!! first off, i wanna say that i absolutely ADORE your writing and the way you interpret the characters, 11029238/10, top-tier stuff. also, i'd like to offer you a thought, a breadcrumb of an image, if you will. miya osamu in a rivals-to-lovers setting. what do you think? hope you have a great day filled with nice things!!
Oh… oh babe… whAT HAVE YOU DONE-
Also you’re the sweetest and you’re gonna make me cry so hush up before I smooch you 🥺❤️
This could work in so many settings.
But imma roll with a classic one bc I’m uncreative and love a cheesy trope 💅🏼 but if you want me to rewrite it lmk HAHAHA-
Picture it. You’re part of some petty crime gang, and you’re a late entry. He’s been there for years, ever since his brother’s the one who took off with a career in the one thing they were good at. This is his domain now; he knows you probably can’t hold your own and that you don’t deserve to be there, and rather than just expressing those thoughts, or even just dealing with them, Osamu Miya makes it his mission to make you miserable.
Cutting over you during briefings, refusing to do any sort of organization with you, taking credit for things you did on an outing, he’s an absolute worthless piece of company, and the minute you gain control you plan to send him the fuck away.
He’s old, okay, he’s been in the game far too long, and you’re sure to start letting him know that when he starts opening his mouth about your skills. It ears you both an adult version of scolding, but it doesn’t stop you.
“You want respect, you gotta earn it,” he snaps.
“Likewise, grandpa.”
And you don’t know why, but today, he’s been an absolute prick, going out of his way to ensure you are seen as a ridiculous little girl rather than any form of an actual gang member. He’s yelling, barking in your face, grabbing your arm to bring you places instead of just telling you where to go.
“Osamu. You don’t yell at someone like that,” people finally step in.
“I’m not yelling at someone,” he spits. He looks at you in disgust, “I’m yelling at her.”
And listen. You’re not one for violence, it was something that pissed the other members off. But this time, your hand reaches up to smack him hard, hard across the cheek, leaving a bright red mark in its place.
“I do not need your criticism,” you snap. “And this gang certainly does not. Need. You.”
“You don’t know the half of the shit I deal with for you-“
And again, your hands fist his collar and your shove him back into the wall, body on full adrenaline and pulsing with anger, “I don’t need your fucking pity. You are nothing to me.”
You flick him away like cigarette ashes before storming up and out of the clubhouse, slamming the door and letting the cool air of outside try to calm you down.
You could kill him. You could destroy him, and he doesn’t even care; one day, you would. You’re sure of it.
But for now, you let your exhausted legs carry you home and into your bed to try and let the chaos and fury of the day drip away.
That is, until about one am that night.
There’s a furious pounding on the door, quick and loud and it startles you fresh out of sleep, scrambling under the covers. It doesn’t stop, and you quickly grab your blade and scurry to the door, peering just enough into the peephole. “I know you’re right there,” an all too familiar voice (though it sounds nothing like him right now) calls through the door. “I just want to talk.”
“I’m armed.”
“I’m not.”
Your face drops in confusion before you open the door, and the sight before you had your breath getting caught in your throat and face paling.
“Miya…” you croak, eyes glazing up the massive frame in front of you. “What… what are you doing here?”
“I didn’t know where else to go,” he whimpers, the man audibly whimpers up at you, and your heart leaps in your chest when you look at his hands. “I couldn’t go anywhere else.”
They’re bruised, sliced up at the knuckles and torn along the bone, bleeding as he flexes them to keep them from scabbing. When you meet his eyes once again, and his face is no better, scratched and bruising and eye swollen from some form of hit.
He looks rough. Really rough.
“Good God,” you whisper in awe. “What happened?” You don’t think twice before your hand wraps around his thick wrist and gently tugs him into your place, locking the door and guiding him to the bathroom. He plops on your toilet while you gather some first-aid; he doesn’t answer you again, and you feel your nerves starting to pulse.
Silence falls on him, his eyes advert to the floor and far from you. You don’t pry, but you’re so used to him yelling at you that you don’t know how to react to his quiet.
“Hand,” you command, settling between his legs to tend to his wounds. He sighs and passes you his hands, wincing slightly when your finger presses into a wound.
“Gentle,” he mumbles, leaning his head back against the wall.
“Didnt know that word was in your vocabulary.”
“Usually ain’t.”
More silence. He whines occasionally at the stinging of peroxide, but he says nothing and you hate that. You have so many questions, so many thoughts, and he should know by now that you’re not gonna not ask them.
“Miya?” You say quietly. He grunts softly, and you give him a shaky sigh, “why… why are you such an asshole?”
“I’m a criminal who jumps men in the street when they owe us money, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”
“That’s not being an asshole,” you counter, wrapping a bandage around his hand. “That’s doing your job. That’s what we do.” He rolls his eyes, but you continue, “you’re an asshole to me, Miya. And… and I don’t even know what I did.”
He stays silent before retracting his hand from yours. His eyes turn towards the ceiling and he takes a sharp swallow, evident by the bobbing of his adam’s apple. You wait patiently, blinking up at him calmly, and he finally meets your gaze with a boyish glimmer past the cold, sharp pools of grey.
“Because… because you don’t belong here.”
“I’ve made my damn place very clear-“
“Shut up,” he says sharply, and while normally you’d smack him and tell him what-for, instead his vulnerability has you silent. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t care if you have your place in out gang; that’s not the fucking point.
“You shouldn’t be there,” he continues, sighing shakily. “I don’t know what brought you to us, or what you did to land yourself here, but anything else would’ve been better. People die out here; you’re too good for this shit, you deserve so much better than anything our bullshit can give you.”
“Don’t act like you know me, or understand the things I do,” you firm, and he peers at you through thick lashes. “And if I deserve so much better, why do you consistently make my life an absolute hell?”
“Because if you start to show dominance, they’re going to turn on you.” His quick answer shows he’s being genuine, and a shiver shoots down your spine. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the only woman in the damned gang that isn’t just an Old Lady. The minute you start getting brave, they’re gonna swallow you whole, princess.” His teeth grit, “and I’m not gonna let them do that to you.”
You cross your arms, “I can handle myself.”
“This isn’t about handling,” he snarls, and you see him tense back up like a beast in agitation. “I don’t care if you can handle your own- hell, you probably can. But there’s a reason you and I get stuck together doing petty shit; they’re going out there. You start poking your nose in that, they’re going to snap that pretty little neck of yours.”
“Shoji wouldn’t do that-“
“Not while I’m around.” He leans back against the toilet, looking down on you. “I keep you on my leash because if he so much as looks at you I’m-“
The vein in his forehead pops out at the mere idea of you getting anything other than respect, and at the sight, you’re quick to soothe him by cupping his swollen cheek in your hand.
“Miya,” you whisper, leaning in. “I’m fine. I trust them-“
“You never asked me why I’m busted up,” he cuts, leaning his head into your cool hand. “I’ve been in this gang for six years, I don’t trust these assholes. You can’t get comfortable; it’s why I’m here.”
A warmth fills your lungs and you mewl softly at his words, rising on your haunches to be closer to him. He seems taken aback, but rather than shift back to get distance, he leans down closer in challenge.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” you reiterate, and he huffs hot air through his nose. “But… I do like the idea of you being there to keep them at bay.”
“The shit I do for you and you don’t even realize it,” he scoffs, his eyes glazing your features. “Make you un-fucking-touchable.”
“I already was.” Your hands smooth up his bulky arms, and you relish in the way he shivers. “But now, with you here,” you pant, a loving hand smoothing ip the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. “I’m invincible, Miya. I never doubted for one second that you didn’t have my back.” You giving him a reassuring, albeit playful, smirk, watching a small grin of his own spread over his face. It splits the scab that had already started to form, crimson slowly slipping from the gash and down his chin.
One of your fingertips gently trace the ripped skin, watching his blood spread under your touch, “no one’s gonna ever touch me… not when you’re around, huh?”
“You make it all worth the trouble, doll,” he rasps, his own mammoth of a hand coming up to cradle the back of your head into a kiss. He tastes like blood, like cigarettes and menthol and neon and danger and it has you a putty in his hands. Your nails scratch at the buzz of his undercut, making him shiver and growl into your mouth.
His tongue is sharp, just like his words, his lips are torn up and he kisses you like it’s a challenge he wants to win, like a starved man with a morsel of food; gnashing teeth nip at your lips and grabbing paws keep your energy electric, and damn you’ve never wanted someone more.
Hands scoop under your thighs to pull you up and onto his lap, cradling him to the porcelain of the toilet while he continues to touch. Almost as if he’s memorizing your frame. His lips start to trail down your neck, suckling hard when he finds a spot that makes you keen or gasp.
It was wild.
Much like miya osamu himself.
“Who knew you cared so much about little old me?” You tease, and you feel him smirk against your neck.
“Don’t push your luck… you’re still a little princess bitch who needs to stay in her lane.” He lifts his head from your neck to lean nose-to-nose with you.
“And I can’t wait to knock you down a peg.”
#LMAOOOO THIS IS SO LONG AND SO MID#BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH#IDK WHY I WENT THIS ROUTE BUT-#also posting at work so if I need other tags lmk HAHAHA-#osamu miya#osamu miya angst#<- I think??? HAA#osamu miya x reader angst#osamu miya fluff#osamu miya x reader fluff#osamu miya x f!reader#osamu miya x reader#osamu miya imagine#osamu miya haikyuu#miya osamu#miya osamu fluff#miya osamu angst#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x f!reader#miya osamu x reader angst#miya osamu x reader fluff#miya osamu imagine#miya osamu haikyuu#haikyuu angst#haikyuu au#haikyuu imagine#gang tw#tw gang#tw blood#blood tw
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choice!JK
despite the year-gap its been since minho has stayed at jungkook’s, his clothes still fit him. you were shocked to see his room was untouched; all his toys, games, and bedroom design were all still in place. it felt as if minho never left and he easily became accustomed to his familiar bedroom.
you made sure to help minho with his homework while mrs. min cooked something for him. of course dinner with minho was always endearing until you found out about his behavior. of course you scolded minho for misbehaving in your absence but he insisted that won’t misbehave again now that you both are together again.
turns out jungkook was right. minho made things a lot more lighter in the huge house. because of the 6-year old, mrs. min got to hear your sweet voice a lot more than usual and after 8 long days of neglecting food, you finally put something on your stomach.
mrs. min happily reported the good news to jungkook who seemed serious about feeding you through a tube to keep you from starving yourself but now that minho’s here, she and jungkook are sure you’ll take better care of yourself.
at 8:30, you put minho to bed after he took his bath but since he’s afraid of the dark you made sure to turn his nightlight on before shutting his door. “night min~” whisper as you head to your room but on this particular night, you find it hard to let sleep succumb you. to pass the time, you take a bath, do your nightly routine, and head downstairs to watch a movie or two.
by the time you finished the first movie, it was 9:15. once the second one ended it was 10 o’clock but still, you didn’t feel sleepy. because you’re prohibited from going outside, you walk around jungkook’s large mansion and take in all the expensive decorations around the house.
polished marble floors, glass chandeliers, you can’t believe he used to live in this huge house alone. not that you care! it’s just, strange. you could never live in a place this big by yourself yet here you are living in this huge house except you’re with minho and—
you hear keys jingling at the door and quickly, you sprint for your bedroom to pretend to be asleep. just as jungkook walks in the large house, you slam your bedroom door shut and throw the covers over you, pretending to be asleep.
you hear his footsteps heading upstairs but he bypasses your room. you gasp ‘he’s going in minho’s room!’ in a panic, you grab your shoe, ready to hit it over his head for hurting your younger brother.
but when you tiptoe closer to minho’s room and take a peek through the cracked door, all you see is jungkook making sure his nightlight is on. the gesture could mean so little to someone yet it means a lot to you. jungkook could be petty and turn it off to spite you, instead, he makes sure it’s on because he knows minho is scared of the dark. he did buy the nightlight, after all.
you’re so caught up with admiring jungkook’s small act that you don’t even notice him coming towards you and when he does, the first thing he sees is you with a shoe in your hand.
“sorry, i uh, ehem. i thought you were up to no good”
“Oh wow- how romantic yn.” He laughs, scoffing at you.
But can he blame you? “I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, carefully walking out of Minho’s bedroom to make his way into his own.
He knows that talking to you will do no good because you’re still pissed at him but he cannot help but think about trying to actually ask you about it.
Jungkook scratches the back of his head, his eyes a little red. “Hey yn… I have to go to a party tomorrow- for a drug deal.” He says, without any filter or hesitation because now you know everything so he might as well just suck it up.
Of course you’re going to say no- reject him, but he’s gotta try at least. So he intakes, before opening his mouth. “Would you like to accompany me? I mean it’s okay you can say no- you’re probably going to but..”
He’s currently fantasizing about hearing a yes from your mouth.
“Would you…?” He says with curiosity. This could be good for the both of you- but he’s not hoping for anything, “it would be fun.”
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