#How she never wanted nothing but the best for Oz | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

siolixz · 3 months ago

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~ Veils of Crimson ~

Chapter 1

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

Reader is the daughter of Carmine Falcone, she is young (19) when the beginning of the story happen, but nothing sexual between her and Oz at this age. She will grow and evolve as the story progresses, I wanted to explore the relationships between her and everyone else in the story in this chapter (besides Alberto). I was worried i made it too long now im worried its too short haha, next chapter are gonna be longer. Oz is still manipulative and scheming.

Story inspired by Driving Miss Falcone by (https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger)<- super good steamy story

It's a slow burn because THATS HOW I LIKE IT, yes there will be smut.

Enjoy, give feedback if u want xoxo

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry), general teenage horniness.

Being the daughter of Carmine Falcone was, as many might say, easy. You went shopping every single day, you ate at the most expensive restaurants (and if you didn’t, you had chefs that would prepare everything your heart desired), you slept in the finest sheets. Compared to most young adults your age, you were born “full,” never having to worry about anything or anyone disturbing your peace or threatening your well-being.

Still, you were well aware of the things going on around you, even if your father or anyone else in the family, for that matter, usually just glossed over you. All of them opted to compliment how beautiful you were or how stylish your clothes were—blah, blah, blah. You understood that your father ran an organized crime syndicate, that he was respected, and that the clothes on your back and the food in your belly came from one thing only: blood money. But everyone seemed to be okay with it; I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?

You never saw anything weird or a crime being committed. Everyone—and I mean everyone—was well-mannered, spoke in a nice fashion, and you never had to ask for anything; everything was handed to you on a silver platter. You had a driver, for God's sake—someone at your beck and call who could drive you around wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted.

You didn’t have many friends. Those people you talked and socialized with? You couldn’t call them “friends.” They were all just bootlickers who thrived off having Carmine Falcone’s daughter near them; at least that’s what Alberto told you.

If you had to choose, you wouldn’t even go to those fancy-ass events that Sofia dragged you to every single time. She said that you two were women and that you were responsible for “keeping up appearances” and all that. To give her credit, she really made you guys quite the big deal. Ever since she took over her late mother’s organization, you’d grace the cover almost weekly, either because of something she did or some controversy a journalist would make up.

If you had to choose someone to spend time with, it was Oz. Sure, he was your driver, but he was the only person worth hanging around.

To start, he was funny. He always made you laugh, telling you the best stories from his childhood—either about his idol, Rex, or the sort of things he and his brothers got up to. It was a joy to be around him, at least for you. You always defended him when your uncle or your brother would make fun of his gait. Who the hell were they to talk? You never said that, though, because that was disrespectful, and you weren’t allowed to curse—well, you weren’t allowed to curse around family. Oz never minded; you were sure of that.

One year, when it was your birthday, Oz gave you the most gorgeous necklace. He knew exactly what sort of metal you adored, and in the middle was this very dainty diamond. Sure, it couldn’t have cost him a fortune, but it was the symbol that counted. The scandal that followed in the house afterwards was something to remember. You remembered telling one of the older girls there about the gift. That girl told Alberto, who then told your father. They didn’t know who it was from, but they knew it was a member of staff, and your father gave you an hour-long lecture about boundaries and how you shouldn’t have accepted the gift, ever. Sure enough, after two months, he forgot all about it; he had more important business to attend to. Oz apologized afterwards, when it was just the two of you, but you told him it was nonsense.

Your sister rudely interrupted your daydream when you arrived at, you guessed it, another press-infused dinner.

“Hey, you got your head in the clouds again, missy? We’re here.”

“Oh yes, I couldn’t figure it out by the cameras that are all pointing at us from outside, Sherlock. Thank you.” You knew your sister didn’t mind the bratty remark now and then; you were close—well, close enough. She was the first-born daughter, the second in command, really (Alberto was more like the “okay to the world choice” because he had a penis). You were the princess of the household; all you had to do was bat your pretty eyelashes and shine your big eyes, and all was forgiven, as long as you didn’t meddle in “grown-up business.” You were also a grown-up, but whatever. Oz had already made his way out of the car and toward the door.

“Remember, smile, be nice and courteous, and don’t talk to the press. Let’s go.”

As you exited the expensive vehicle, you thanked and smiled at Oz, who, in turn, smiled back. He went to the front, pushing anyone who got too close to you out of the way as everyone shouted things regarding your father or the organization. Your sister grabbed your hand and led you inside; your dad always told you to pay them no mind, so you never really listened to what crap they were yelling anyway.

As your sister was introduced as “the chairwoman of the Isabella Falcone organization” and stepped up to the stage, you felt a sense of pride looking at her. She looked very beautiful in her red dress, obviously picked by you. You knew she usually got quite uncomfortable during those public speaking moments, so you made sure to look her straight in the eyes, straighten your back (which made her straighten hers out), and smile at her. It was your way of telling her that she was a Falcone; she better make everyone in the room remember that. No stuttering on the stage or hesitation.

These dinners or lunches or whatever—they felt like they took an eternity, with the exact same thing being said at every single one: “We need to protect women; the Isabella Falcone organization made this and that. This is very important for women all around Gotham.” While yes, you were sure they helped some people—like the rich ladies who were all here—you were sure they all felt much better about their privilege after attending these sorts of things. When you passed around the East End, you noticed the women on the street: the ones with two kids following them, or the pregnant women who went to work to support their families and give their kids something to eat, the ones wearing high heels and patrolling the corners of Gotham. You often wondered if they benefited from the “help” your sister and the other gals here offered.

Well, at least the food was nice. Every once in a while, you would see Oz walking into your field of vision, and you made sure to get him a plate of the sweets he liked. Even if he rejected the plate most often, he never said no to you. Of course, no one did.

After your smart sister was done talking, everyone applauded. You were the first to get up, and everyone else followed suit.

Immediately after, you went to Oz, with the plate, of course. He rejected it, but you said you weren’t going to repeat yourself, and he took it. That was a sort of ritual you guys had. After Sofia dodged one pretty woman after another, she came over to you two, and Oz started to say thank you to everyone coming closer—a sort of “shut the hell up, go home.”

“This is the third luncheon this week. A lobotomy couldn’t take the edge off,” she said. You had no funny remark to that; you knew when to press buttons and when to keep quiet. After she was anxious, it was no time for funny remarks; let’s leave.

“Even when you’re helping people, you still gotta eat shit,” Oz said, trying to be funny. He should’ve said that to you, not her. They were both walking ahead of you now, completely ignoring your presence. Of course, he showered her with his attention, just like everyone else.

“Better than some jobs, though.” He handed your sister a cigarette—a very bad habit you hated. You always told her she looked like a man. Ugh.

“Like what—” she glanced over at you and shook her head in your direction. “—driving this princess around?” She had that all-knowing smirk on her lips; this was her payback for your smart mouth when arriving here.

Oz’s smile fell. “Oh, that’s not— you know what I mean.” Serves him right for kissing her ass.

“She’s messing with you,” you interrupted. “We know it’s a shitty job.” He better not think it is.

“You deserve better; I mean, we both do, but you have a dick, so at least you're eligible for a promotion.” He laughed at that. Your heart skipped a bit at the sound of his laughter. The few times you made him laugh were rare, and here she was, after not being around him for months, making him laugh. Why did she have to steal the show every time? He was yours; she had her own people to make laugh.

“I’ll get the car; you did good,” he said as he left.

“Thank you,” Sofia responded. After turning around, she let out a little laugh. “Wow, what’s gotten into you?” Okay, maybe you didn’t have the most pleasant expression on; maybe you were sulking a little. Maybe.

“This is the last time I give you a ride.” Now she really started laughing.

“Are you jealous? Well, your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.” She said this while still chuckling to herself. “I like men my age, who walk normally.” She whispered the last part as if it were some great shameful thing. “I see the way he looks at you; everyone does.” She winked.

What? Oz was your driver and your father's employee. Maybe sometimes you liked to pretend he was some rich older man, powerful like your dad—someone people respected when you walked together in any luxury store or when you ate together at any fancy restaurant in which he wasn’t supposed to eat, like, at all, when he was with you. But you weren’t going to walk in there and eat all by yourself, were you? That’s why you always had him by your side, and you didn’t call any of your “friends” to go with you.

You put your head down at that comment, cheeks red with embarrassment, and practically sprinted to the open door Oswald had waiting for you. You knew he was staring at you, expecting a smile and a “thank you.” You didn’t say anything.

You heard someone call after your sister, but you didn’t care; you just wanted to get home—like, now.

The road home was quiet, allowing you to think about what your sister said. Did you have a crush on Oz? You wanted to make him smile and laugh. Sometimes your eyes would linger on his big hands on the steering wheel, how he was an expert driver, how his hands would move as if caressing something—like a leg, maybe your leg. Maybe he would take his hands further up.

Okay, that’s enough. You could feel the tips of your ears flashing red and that familiar ache in your belly. Those thoughts were for later. With excitement coursing through your body, you swallowed a smile.

That night, at the family dinner, you let Sofia speak about the organization and how today was for her. Your eyes traveled up the walls to the big painting staring at you; they looked beautiful—the family, with Alberto’s and Sofia’s mom and Carmine. They really did. Carmine was engaged to your mom after Isabella’s death, but she passed away before they could marry, and you were only a few months old. Questions about the woman who gave birth to you were quickly dismissed and, to add insult to injury, redirected towards those living. You knew she was gorgeous, smart, and witty—that made you smile, just like you were.

After eating a bit of food, you asked to be excused, and your father swiftly granted it. He loved the fact that you didn’t linger for too long or ask any important questions.

The next day, you and Oz went to a jewelry store; after that, you bought some dresses. This time, however, he stayed in the car. You knew he was wondering if he had screwed up with something. I mean, yesterday he had two Falcones to deal with. You bought this gorgeous red satin dress; it was simple but elegant.

It embraced your curves so nicely, and even if you weren’t going to be allowed to wear it, the slit on the side might make your dad as red as the dress with fury. You still liked to envision it. Oh well.

The ride home was unusually quiet. Almost always it was filled with Oz’s voice or your laughter; now, only the occasional sound of the blinker was heard.

“I’m sorry if I did or said something to upset you, Miss Falcone. It wasn’t my intention.” That rough voice of his interrupted—usually, he called you by your name, but now it was replaced with the courteous nature of a regular staff member.

The truth is, you and Oz weren’t ever going to be together. It sounds crazy even thinking about it. This was a juvenile crush based on familiarity. He was just a driver; this was probably the highest-ranking position he would ever have. Now you could either be the laughing stock of the family, or you could get over it.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well, that’s all, Oswald. Nothing you can do about it.” You refused to meet his eyes, and you knew he wanted to say something like “hey, look at me,” like he usually did when you were upset. The mention of his full name stopped him.

“I wanted to tell you that tomorrow night I will be unavailable from 4 PM to 7 PM; your sister has requested me.”

#oz cobb x reader #the penguin x reader #oz cobb #the penguin #the penguin hbo #the penguin tv #oswald cobb x reader #oz cobblepot #oswald cobblepot

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moistvonlipwig · 27 days ago

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🔥

kara danvers :)

ok well you and i have discussed this at length so this will not be new to you but imco (in my correct opinion) kara danvers [as portrayed by the cw's supergirl, not necessarily in other versions] is actually pretty lazy, and i would argue this is one of her most central and consistent character traits. and i don't just mean physically lazy, although i should note that per 3.17 "trinity" she canonically Hates Walking and doesn't understand why humans exercise. i mostly mean on an intellectual & moral level.

kara wants to be a reporter, but when she figures this out (because......a pretty lady told her she should do it? ig?), she does not apply to journalism school, or take online classes. instead she is handed a reporter job by her boss (who scrawled 'reporter' on her hilariously terrible resume when they met for reasons known only to her) and from then on proceeds to basically just do whatever she wants and get offended when more seasoned reporters who have gone to journalism school ask her to do basic functions of the job like Acquire Sources and Report On The Facts And Not Just Your Personal Opinions. at no point do we really see her ask her colleagues, even friendly ones like james, for advice or help; instead, advice is something that's imposed upon her by the wicked snapper, who dares to be unimpressed by her uneducated slay. throughout the show, on multiple occasions, the idea of actually Doing Her Job seems to offend her -- lena even calls her out for this explicitly in 3.02 "triggers," but she continues to display this behavior with andrea in s5 & s6. in the finale, when she is promoted to editor-in-chief in an act of blatant cronyism that truthfully should prompt the entire catco staff to quit in protest, it is not on her initiative, nor due to her efforts, nor is it because anything about the position has piqued her interest; it is, again, simply handed to her, and she just accepts.

additionally, we rarely see her express meaningful curiosity about, well, any subject, really -- we know she learned calculus young, but her interest in math and science seems nil; she is deeply naive about the u.s. justice system in s6 in a way that suggests she has never looked into it, though her own mother was a judge on krypton; and a lot of her interests seem very Basic (pizza, potstickers [? why girl.], nsync, the wizard of oz, harry potter), which to be clear is not inherently a sign of intellectual laziness or incuriosity, but it also does nothing to suggest that she is someone with a wide knowledge of food, literature, music, or film.

she also demonstrates what i would argue is a kind of moral laziness, though you could call it an offshoot of her intellectual laziness, in her general lack of real self-reflection about, like, any of her actions. although some of the other characters sometimes bring up how messed-up the DEO is (e.g. james in s1 with the gitmo comparison -- which, CRAZY line to put in your show and then never address, btw), kara herself does not question it (until the Wrong People take over, of course). her rhetoric in early s2 about daxamites suggests that she is quite comfortable believing sweeping generalizations she was taught as a child and has never really sat down to interrogate them, but while mon-el being.....pretty bad but i guess not as bad as his mom? yay? inspires her to stop being bigoted against daxamites specifically, we will later still hear her say that certain species tend to be peaceful or aggressive, etc., with no self-reflection. in 3.05 "damage," when morgan edge tries to make it seem like lena's lead dispersal device that kara activated poisoned children, kara does not take the opportunity to self-reflect on the choice she made and whether it was worth it; instead, her arc for the episode is reacting emotionally to her best buddy feeling guilty (about the thing kara also did. i cannot emphasize that part enough).

i would argue the conclusion she draws in 5.13, too, smacks of this moral laziness; she spends the episode looking for a magic shortcut to not having to feel bad anymore, and when she can't find one, she decides that actually, meh, there was never a perfect way for things to go down, so all that lying wasn't such a big deal and lena should just get over it. kara is dripping with a lot of guilt in 5A, but throughout both 5A and 5B there's very little actual, thoughtful self-reflection on what she did wrong and why, and that carries over into S6 when, after like ten episodes of lena (and also william ig) repeatedly trying to tell her not to play god, she decides in the very penultimate episode to solve her problems by eating the sun, and then when she decides against it partway through doing it, there's again very little self-reflection on her part of why the hell she thought that was a good thing to do. kara's morality, on the whole, seems largely based on (a) alex and (b) vibes, and not so much on any actual thought she's dedicated to the moral questions at hand.

and similarly to when kara is asked to Do Her Damn Job at her place of work -- when kara is challenged on her morality (like when lena challenges her on the kryptonite in s3, or on myriad in 5.17), she acts annoyed at the very idea of having to do the hard work of thinking about the morals she espouses as a superhero. and it doesn't read as someone who has thought very hard about her moral choices and is offended because she believes so strongly that she's right, because we never actually see her thinking hard about these moral choices she makes at all. it reads as someone who hasn't thought about it beyond a very cursory level and is frustrated that she's being asked to. because, again, she's just fundamentally kind of lazy.

and the thing is this might sound like i am dunking on her but actually i think this is a trait that is incredibly funny. my favorite portrayal of supergirl/kara danvers is the one from the children's cartoon dc super hero girls 2019, whose version of kara is ALSO lazy, on top of being an aggressive, quick-to-anger, rude, irresponsible, selfish brat. and she's hilarious in that show, she's one of my favorite characters. another favorite character of mine, also a children's cartoon character, is anne boonchuy from amphibia, whose entire character journey is about learning not to be physically, intellectually, or morally lazy and learning to [school principal voice] Apply Herself instead. it can be incredibly fun to watch characters be lazy and incurious and self-centered, whether they change for the better or not. but it is a bit strange that some people act like kara is this super disciplined person who loves working out and loves learning and reads widely and is curious about everything and self-reflects on her own decisions and how she affects others to the point of obsession. i wonder if part of it is 'femslash same-character syndrome,' where people slap other characters' traits from other popular femslash ships onto each other. because the character i just described is adora from she-ra. who a lot of people think is similar to kara. except no. she's not at all. as evidenced by this whole write-up ☝️ lol. they're just both blonde and for some reason (#blondephobia?) femslash fandoms wanna act like all blonde girlies are the same. but they are not. #wakeupamerica.....

#so anyway that's my extremely correct yet mysteriously unpopular opinion 😁 read it and weep.....#up up and away #sideguitars

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justbelievinginmagic · 27 days ago

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BEWITCHED - part 1: we're not in munchkinland anymore.

pairing(s): witch!seonghwa x witch!reader ft. honjoong & san. mini-series summary: all your life you've had this spark - a touch of magic to your heart. as a munchkinlander, it was both a blessing and a curse. after all, two horrible witches had ruled over the land - all your life you had been asked: would you be a good witch or a bad witch? you wanted to be a good witch. and, finally, you would be! the day arrived; you were going to shiz university, the most-esteemed magical college in oz! you were prepared to work hard and make your dreams come true. but when you stumble upon cold bullies and an even colder sorcerer-in-training named park seonghwa who seemed to captivate you at every turn, will you be able to achieve your magical goals or will you fall under his spell? warnings/tags: inspired by the musical and movie adaptation of wicked, magical college AU, wizard of oz AU, set at shiz university, fem!reader, 3rd person POV, use of YN, set after a divergent-wicked timeline (where the wizard or a wizard still rules), magic, angst, some bullying, oz references and lore, use of ozian vernacular, nervousness, second-hand embarrassment, mentions of panties/corset, name calling. let me know if there are more tags needed. word count: ~4.5k

It had been known throughout Oz, for as long as the Time Dragon Clock tick-tocked, that the only place to become a grand sorcerer was Shiz University. Established, expensive, and exclusivatory, the university was known throughout the land as the cradle to success. Anyone who wanted to be anything went there – or to the Wizard to have their heart’s desire granted. But, of course, a meeting with the Wizard was rare. So, the only other option to success was hard work. Work hard to one day get to Shiz University.

Staring up at the ancient buildings of Shiz, YN couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration. She had made it. Spiraling towers, open-air patios, water canals weaving in and out of the architecture, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in Munchkinland anymore.

A shoulder bumped into her, making her huff and stumble over the aged tiles. She righted herself with a small huff, a familiar zing in her chest making her pause and take a deep breath. That was the last thing she needed to happen. The bustling crowds of students surrounded her like a sea. Some in the perfectly-pressed navy-blue jackets and horizontal-striped uniform dresses of Shiz with the silver-stitched emblem proud across their chest. Others were like her, dressed in their best-to-impress as they entered the grand corridors of Shiz as a new student. It reminded her of stories of masquerades in grand ballrooms – their outfits were all so different and extravagant. Pinks of the lightest shades, deep-rubied vermillion, bright yellows, all in the strangest textures and designs. Far different from her own dress fabric but never the less fantasticamagical!

YN felt out of place like a lost air balloon amongst the clouds. Clinging to her luggage case, she took a tentative step away from the open-air waterfront. As she moved ever forward into the college, she realized just how different everything was here. The air was cool and humid; the sound of sea-salt water trickling between the canal-filled paths babbled; there was the smell of fresh-Ozma petals blooming on the large leaf-pads floating across the shimmering water. It was really nothing like Munchkinland, and its sprawling country-sides. There was no smell of Ozwheat-ground bread, of fresh upturned soil, fragrant tulips in every shade of the rainbow, or the towering blossom stalks of sweet-flowers.

It was strange.

Swallowing, she hugged her brown suitcase closer and continued to walk further into Shiz. The honey-soft yellow of the buildings was complimented by a once-royal, now-pastel blue in the awnings and in delicate hand-painted décor across the buildings. Sunshine flickered past the shingled rooftops to cast the center of Shiz in a golden glow. It was beautiful. A different beautiful than what she was used to, but an optimistic jingle in her heart said she could like it here.

Another person pushed past her purposely, and this time it sent her tumbling to the ground. A laughter grumbled from the crowd, surprised but cruel. A mean-looking girl with a pointy nose laughed as she crowed out, “Watch where you are going, little farm girl!”

“She’s used to being that low to the ground I bet,” another encouraged with a sneer.

YN’s face crumbled at the words. Eyes burning before her face flushed. All her things toppled across the bustling court-yard – her books scattered, her dresses tumbled, her keepsakes rolled. Her suitcase had broken open. The clasp was worn and old compared to the new fancy luggage the rich (but mostly their entourage) toted along, but she didn’t think it was that old.

Embarrassment burned more fervently than that spark in her chest. Her focus to split between the pain of in her knees, the hurt from their words, and the panic of needing to grab her things now.

YN didn’t understand their uttertodious rudeness. She wasn’t the first nor the last to attend Shiz as a Munchkinlander. She hadn’t expected the dirty looks, the cruel laughs, the cold whispers, the foul name-calling. How did they even know she was of Munchkinland? She wasn’t of Munckinland holy blood. She was no Eminent, nor of the upper-class. She was just… YN. Was that so offending? Was it her dress? Was that what they were whispering about behind their hands and falling into giggles? Was it hideoteous compared to the swankified fabrics of the upper-class? She didn’t think so. She had put on her prettiest – a dirndl-esque dress of a deep sapphire. Hand-embroidered vibrant poppies, delicate milk-flowers, and candy-chrysanthemums decorated the hem and décolletage. Fresh flowers decorated her pig-tailed hair; some had begun to wilt in the change of temperature, but they still were prettied pastel yellows, blues, and pinks. Some of those petals now rested on the ground from her fall, crumpled.

She felt the burn flare like embers fanned by a wind. Her book pages rattled in a nonexistent wind unnoticed by the snickering students. Behind her, a man’s voice cleared itself, baritone and rumbly.

“Are you alright?” He asked beside her.

Oh, his voice so melodic it reminded her of the Lullaby League singers that would pass through Munchkinland during the holidays. It reminded her of honey being poured over fresh-bread, of warm summer nights in the fields, of a bed waiting for her to curl up in.

Looking up at him, her breath was stolen. YN swore for a moment she saw a star, a wizard, a sorcerer, an otherworldly being. There, haloed in the light of the afternoon sun, was a man with hair as light as milk-flowers and a nose carved by an artist. His shapely lips pursed in a thoughtful yet neutral pout; his eyes were a dark shade of fresh-soil. And somehow, they twinkled with stars.

Or maybe her eyes were filled with hearts. She blinked. YN had never seen someone so beautiful. The burning spark in her chest faded with awe.

His hand outstretched to her after a moment.

“Are you okay?” he repeated, bleached brow raising faintly.

There was another blink of her pretty eyes before she was shaken from her stupor.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she insisted as she took his hand.

With ease, she was tugged to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered, pink cheeked.

The figure was tall especially so with his heeled boots. His presence was one she imagined only the Wizard to embody. Peace, stoniness, wisdom. He struck her with wonder. His gaze flickered from her, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips disappearing at the sight of her dresses tumbling away, her books’ pages fluttering in the wind, and, mortifyingly, her panties tumbling from her luggage.

“Um,” he cleared his throat, chin nodding in their direction.

Red cheeked and mortified, she went to grab the frilly underthings before sliding to her knees once more to catch all of her belongings from blowing away. Laughter rang out as students rushed around her things. Someone stepped on her leatherbound book of the History of Shiz.

Her savior, her star, hadn’t bent at the knee to help. He simply watched on, glancing at the student who was cackling at the Munchkinlander’s humiliation.

“Seonghwa!” A cry from the side caught her attention as a red-haired man, shorter than the white-haired star that had helped her, rushed forward. His arm slung over the taller’s shoulders - despite their size differences. Seonghwa bent at the knee for him, letting the red-head adjust him ‘til he was comfortable half leaning on his counterpart.

“Your Highness,” Seonghwa replied.

Highness! Her face only seemed to grow hotter and hotter. She knew Shiz had the rich and royal but she didn’t expect to a royal highness to be watching her gather her intimates and shove them into her luggage today. If her face could burn any hotter, she’d be a furnace.

“Here.” A stray hand held out a blue nightgown her way, and she grabbed it with only the quickest glance.

Sweet Oz, was this entire school flooded with beauty? A strong-shouldered man in decorated regalia was kneeling down to offer more of her items her way. He had collected a handful in his arms - a book, another nightgown, her corset! Grabbing it quick, she thanked him under her breath as she pushed everything into her bag messily.

“Making the ladies swoon and lose their panties already?” the red-haired man teased.

The burn in her chest returned almost as if it could incinerate her away ‘til she was nothing but dust. She wished she could disappear. She didn’t even notice her fingertips fading away, disappearing as she accepted another book from the handsome knight. They sparkled a ghastly transparent shape, almost like she was part ghost. San’s eyes lingered on her hands for a moment, eyes widening. She didn’t even notice that as she shoved a balled-up sweater into the bag.

“She stumbled and fell on her own,” Seonghwa commented. His tone felt cooler than before, almost defensive.

“I was tripped,” she muttered under her breath as she placed the last of her things in her bag.

With the last thing safely tucked away and her bag firmly shut, the broad-shouldered man gave her a soft smile, charmingly so, before he rose and returned to the Star named Seonghwa and his Highness.

“No harm in swooning anyone; stop acting like it’s some scandalacious thing,” the red-head chuckled as he peered down at the Munchkinland woman. His hand rose to tilt his rose-tinted glasses down the fine bridge of his nose.

He winked at her, and her face nearly matched his crimson locks.

“We aren’t here to swoon, Prince Hongjoong. We are here to—”

“Study, yeah, yeah. You okay, miss?” This Prince Hongjoong’s smile, or well, smirk was deadly. Playful, seductive, charming, all wrapped up in one.

“She’s from Munchkinland; I’m sure she’s familiar with being in the dirt,” someone said from the crowd.

Snorts and giggles erupted around. It made her ears burn as she finally stood back on her own two feet, with no help from the strange trio in front of her. The only reassurance was that they didn’t laugh, well, much. Hongjoong giggled out a high-pitched thing as San whispered in his ear. It didn’t feel cruel, more jovial, but still her ego was bruised.

They were laughing at her.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, trying to cling to her words’ truth as tightly as she clung to her luggage.

Water-chimes rang out; hummingbirds playing them to the tune of the Shiz University alma mater. Everyone’s heads turned; some exclamations of excitement rang out.

“Orientation time,” she heard a girl from behind her say. “We have to get a good seat, c’mon.” A trio of girls pushed past and soon everyone was heading in the direction of the quad.

Orientation… so that’s what those bells were all about. It felt so utterly strange to not know. Everything was so different here, no bell towers here. Everyone seemed to know what things were – even something as simple as orientation’s starting call. But with that, her disturberanceand bullies left in a herd of Ozians scrambling to the main courtyard of Shiz.

She sighed out watching their attentions shift. Like she was nothing but an ant. Momentary entertainment before they casted her aside. She didn’t know it was going to be like this when she left home. Humiliating. Teasing. They weren’t children – why did they act so childish?

After working hard in her classes, after studying day-in-day-out, after facing endless scribing of papers, and even after facing nay-sayers who would taunt her with the words, “are you a good witch or a bad witch?,” she made it here. And she wasn’t going to let some rich-snobs make her feel lesser. So, what she didn’t have money or status? So what she came from Munchkinland? She was going to make it for herself – live an Ozian dream.

Munchkins were simple-folk – small-minded some would say, but not her. No, she believed they were clever. Innovative. They were responsible for feeding Oz; they were the Ozwheat Bread Basket of the lands; their rainbow-tulips techni-colored Oz! That had to stand for something. She was something.

She deserved to be here. She made it. She did it. She was equal.

The burning flame in her chest eased as she reminded herself this, sighing out as color flooded back to her fingertips.

Following after the crowd, she noticed that the trio stayed near her. Hongjoong’s stance was lazy, half leaning on Seonghwa who stood tall as ever, towering over both him and the strong-shouldered man who had helped her.

None were in the standard uniform – did that mean they were freshman like her? The Prince’s attire wasn’t exactly sloppy but mismatched. Dark velveteen pants hugged his legs tight. Laced up black boots with far too many laces climbed up his calves. He wore an ivory-white button up with far too many buttons, far too unbuttoned to be appropriate. A cream suit-jacket-esque sweater rested overtop that. The pattern on it held delicate handstitched purple-flowers… maybe gillyflowers? Was he from Gillikin Country? Regardless, he wore a strand of pearls around his throat, haphazardly. His rose-tinted glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a large oversized blue suede fedora hat hid most of his vermillion hair.

Meanwhile, the two accompanying him wore more uniformed outfits. The broad-shouldered one wore a black-suited ensemble with golden embellishments. A cape draped over his shoulder in deep purple. The one who she thought came from a Star had all white linens on, sharp shouldered and corseted tight around his already lean waist. They looked more royal than the so-called prince.

“You’re staring,” Seonghwa stated, blankly.

His gaze caught hers solidly. His gaze was all-consuming. Like he could see right through her. Read her thoughts. Great Oz… she was both intimidated and intrigued by him. He felt magnetic. Her stomach clenched. He tilted his head.

“Sorry,” she blushed.

“Again.” he added, brow twitching into a sharp raise.

His expression made her feel little, like he was throwing her back to the floor metaphorically. Because, he just had to point out that he noticed her staring earlier. He probably thought she was a creep or some dumb farmgirl like the students cajoled.

“Sorry… again.” she said, finally glancing away from him and walking towards an empty spot on a bench instead. She shifted to hold her suitcase in her arms, hugging it close to her chest. The spark twinkled and she didn’t notice aura she put off. A physical manifestation of her magic. It was a gentle aura; something that was more felt and less seen. It felt like dark clouds were hovering around her. A bubble to keep her safe and hidden, subconsciously.

He didn’t stop looking at her still. She knew because she snuck a quick glance and, when their eyes met in that flash, her cheeks matched the red poppies on her dress. The one with the cape chuckled; his eyes flashing to meet hers once more with a playful gleam. He was laughing at her. Sitting down in an empty spot on a bench, she turned her face away to look down the row of students seated next to her. She offered a soft smile about to introduce herself to the one beside her before one after one they scooted away. Glancing at her like she was the plague. “She’s the Munchkin girl; no, no, she’s not of any royal blood – shes just a charity case – maybe she—” Gossip trickled out as the other students sitting there shifted and moved until she was the only one sitting there. An outcast.

What in Oz was this place?! She knew it was exclusivatory but not like this. So hateful. She wrapped her arms around her suitcase. Her chin rested on top of it as she looked around, making sure not to look at Seonghwa… A third scolding? From him? She’d rather melt into a puddle.

Once everyone had been seated, there was a great hum of a tune – the same alma mater that had twinkled out in chimes to summon them. Some students sang out with pride, knowing every word despite it being their first day. She knew it too; she had read it in her history book. But she refused to embarrass herself anymore today. If she could get through orientation without drawing anymore attention to herself, YN would be content.

Her spark kept a small bubble around her as if telling the world to not disturb her. She heard someone murmur something about, “do you see that odd shimmer around the new girl?”

As if not everyone was new… she pressed her chin into her arms firmer. Orientation and then she can get settled and try to start tomorrow on a better foot.

“Welcome students!” cried out a fancy-looking woman approaching the podium. Her dress was swirling with ancient blue magic; her hat a sharp point upon her head. A sorceress, no, a Witch! YN’s eyes perked up and she gazed up at the Witch in wonder. A real-life witch… a Good Witch of the North! How oztastic.

“Welcome, welcome to Shiz University. I am Madame Ozma, Headmistress here. Whether you are here to study logic, literature, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for… some of you,” it was said in jest and a chuckle waved through the crowd.

“While all subjects are valued here at Shiz, I do want to bring some attention to two very lucky, very talented students that will be joining my sorcery seminar this semester. As you all know – sorcery is the life blood of Oz, and it’s a blessing and duty to cultivate any magic talent that shows itself. As rare as it is. It’s been decades since there have been two students studying sorcery concurrently. Their powers brought into a new age – as we all know.”

There was a murmur of agreement. Everyone knew of the Wicked Witch and Glinda the Good.

“Such a gift should be celebrated.” Ozma exclaimed out. “Uplifted. Guided towards the Light”

There was a scattering of applause. Her cheeks were burning red once more. Her head tilted downwards. The letter hadn’t mentioned this. Good Oz, she wanted to hide.

“Please rise, Miss YN of Munchkinland.”

A silence washed over the crowd in shock. All eyes snapped to her. Hongjoong let out a laugh in the silence, the sound bursting forth from his chest without a care. Blink, blink, blink; she felt like she was an art display of exhibition. Could she just ignore it? What would happen if she didn’t stand? No one really knew if she was YN after all?

“Don’t be shy.” The Headmistress encouraged.

Oh, Great Oz… With poppy-tinted ears, she slowly stood, ruby-cheeked and tight-smiled. That feeling of magic tingled in her chest, fluttering as her anxiety grew. It wanted to burst out – protect her from the murmur that rose through the students. Gossip rolled in wave as they leaned into one another. Whispering what? She didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, dearie. And, rise Sir Seonghwa of Gillikin Country.” She beamed out, encouraging a round of applause once more.

YN’s gaze flashed to where Seonghwa rose as well, waving polite and light. Unlike her, he held such an elegance she didn’t have. Of course, he had magic! Of course, he was a Knight! She was sure he could control it better than she could ever control her wild thing of a magic spark. And now they were going to have private lessons together? After his friends made fun of her? After school-wide ridicule? After he reprimanded her for staring! She wanted to crawl into a corn field and rot.

“Our two sorcerers-in-training,” she declared over polite clapping. “We will be seeing lots and lots of each other.” Madame Ozma promised her and Seonghwa before nodding and allowing them to sit. The Headmistress beamed at the students before shifting her attention to another professor who began to prattle about dormitories, their roommates, and where the halls were located.

Sitting down quick, she wished she could just sink into the ground. How was she going to stand being around him? She blushed if he even so looked at her. How would she focus?

Once orientation ended, it was like a stampede. The students shuffled and hustled around her, rushing towards the many faculty who were handing out keys to their dormitories and pointing on grand scrolls and proclaiming, “Yes, yes, Ms. Gale, you are in the North Dormitory. No, you can’t trade roommates. Yes, its permanent.” Overlapping and overwhelming, the world of Shiz was back in swing – the orientation a flurry of too many moments and moving bodies.

YN stayed on the outskirts of the chaos, peering through a navy sea of uniforms to peer up at the many scrolls, listing out name after name. She’s already embarrassed herself enough for today; she’ll wait ‘til the crowd dispersed she decided.

“There must have been a miscommunication,” she heard Seonghwa’s smooth voice like a siren’s call. She couldn’t help but have her eyes flicker towards him. How could she hear him so well? It was like her body was already in tune with him – he was so far away and yet she could pick him out of a crowd. He was a beautiful flower surrounded by weeds.

Seonghwa’s face was crinkled, divine confusion making his upturned brows

“This isn’t right,” he continued, raising a polite hand towards a faculty member. “The Gillikin Prince requested a private apartment – for himself, Sir Choi San, and myself. But I only see his Highness and San listed.”

“Name?” the bunny-faculty member chirped out.

“Park Seonghwa,” he told him.

There was a shuffling of papers, the rabbit-professor humming and bumbling.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the rabbit nodded, his mouth chittering a bit as he chewed on the edge of his pen. “I see – no, no mix up, Sir Seonghwa. Thank you.”

“Where is my dormitory then?” Seonghwa snapped, his tone sharp and authoritarian before he swallowed and followed it up with a soft ‘please’.

“With Miss YN, of course,” It wasn’t the rabbit-professor who spoke but the nearby Headmistress. She walked forward; the rabbit-professor bowed in her direction and Seonghwa followed suit, bowing his head politely.

“YN, dear,” Madame Ozma called, “Join us.”

Seonghwa’s gaze turned and met hers – because, of course, like two magnets their eyes found one another immediately. It felt like she was caught staring for the third time. Bumbling, YN nodded and stood with her suitcase, walking forward.

“Yes, Madame,” she called, curtsying and bowing and rushing forward to the Headmistress. “Honor to meet you.”

“What do you mean I am rooming with Miss YN?” Seonghwa redirected.

Nearby, she heard Hongjoong giggled out manically. “This is perfect,” the red-head commented.

“Hush, your Highness,” Seonghwa scolded over his shoulder with ease, not even glancing at the Prince. Too natural, too routine, like he knew where the Prince was at all times without even looking his way. The Prince still giggled, and surprisingly San joined him in his mischievousness.

“Yes, Seonghwa, you will be sharing an apartment with YN,” the Headmistress confirmed, her head nodding towards the Munchkinlander. “I thought that was made clear to you through our letters?”

Seonghwa’s head turned, almost like an owl, to stare down the chortling Royal and the smirking San.

“I must’ve missed that letter,” he replied slowly.

“As did I,” YN piped up. “I never received anything besides – well, besides entry into the school and your approval of joining the seminar.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” the Madame apologized, squeezing the arm of YN. “I will inquire my office about correspondence throughout Oz and where there were any mishaps.”

She nodded lightly before glancing towards Seonghwa who seemed so indifferent to her as he turned back to face the Headmistress. Like a statue, his facial features had settled into a calm, neutral glaze.

“However, I must apologize; there are not two room available for you both. There is only one apartment closest to my offices – I want to have myself available to you both as often as possible. Magical growth doesn’t happen overnight nor does it follow any class schedule,” she chuckled lightly. “The apartment is up to standards, one of the best if I do say so myself.”

The two sorcerers-in-training spoke over one another next.

“I don’t doubt that,” YN replied.

“It’s not about that!” Seonghwa exclaimed.

They locked gazes once more. The man swallowed, his Adam's apple jittering, before looking away forcibly.

Her face fell visibly. Was he so… disgustified by her that he couldn't even share a space with her? She was an adult. She wouldn’t be dirty or disrespectful as a roommate. She'd leave him be but with how he was acting - it was as if she was some lowly creature. He didnt even care if the apartment was the nicest ones on campus! She could only imagine its history and beauty and yet... he was acting so adamant.

“I am here as protection for his Highness,” Seonghwa stated whole-heartedly. “First-and-foremost.”

“I understand,” the Headmistress asserted. “His Highness, Prince Kim Hongjoong has written me most ardently over the summer requesting for his apartment to be furnished only for two – him and Sir Choi. He expressed his full support to your studies.”

At the new information, there was a flicker of dust whirling off of the sorcerer's bare skin; his honey skin glimmering as magic oozed from him. He rolled his tongue over his teeth before Seonghwa finally let out a huff of frustration. His perfect mask fell as he gritted his teeth.

“And I do,” Hongjoong drawled from behind them. He took a step forward, red glasses pushed into his hair as he looked at his friend earnestly. “Hwa, you’ve protected me your entire life – its time for your talent to grow.” It was said genuinely but Seonghwa’s anger, no matter how small buzzed and bubbled in the air. She could see his hair rise with static electricity just faintly. His magic was so reactive… just like hers.

She had never met another wizard or witch; only read about them. And to see his magic surging in a near invisible dust-like ember around him, the little tells of its reactions on his body, it felt like for once she had someone who would understand her.

If only he didn't despise her.

“There are no curfews,” the Headmistress reminded. “If you wish to stay at his Highness’ suite, no one will stop you. But I’m sorry; there are no other official accommodations I can provide.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath through his nose before offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Headmistress. Thank you for the clarification. I’m sure me and YN will – we'll be fine. We will find a solution.” He stumbled over the right word.

She felt like he was already planning to sneak out of their dorm or distance himself from her as soon as the Headmistress floated away. He hadnt looked at her since she joined them.

“Very good. That's what I like to hear - my two sorcerers working together” The Headmistress beamed. Her magic blared out in a whirl of golden light with her happiness, looking like a living candle for a moment. “I do look forward to our lessons, but for now… welcome to Shiz.”

Yeah, what a welcome.

#park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #atz x reader #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #ateez fantasy au #ateez witch au #hongjoong x reader #san x reader #written by haley

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book--wyrm · 3 months ago

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I do love that Eve is like. The ultimate refutation of the way Oz chases his Rex Calabrese fantasy.

Because in a way, Eve really is the perfect recipient of this dynamic. She knows Oz and all his flaws so well—she knows he's a selfish, lying, backstabbing killer, she knows that he's fundamentally kind of an asshole, she knows that he is at minimum about 60% bullshit by volume at any given moment.

But she accepts him and his help, and offers her aid and advice in return, as little as he listens to it. She doesn't judge him, even defending him to Sofia after their breakup (we all got our shit, don't we?). She loves him, in her own way, enough to push back when Sofia derides the idea. She is loyal to him.

I cannot emphasize that last part enough. She is loyal to him. During her meeting with Sofia, Eve was fully, totally, a hundred percent prepared to take his location to her grave. She didn't choose not to go with him to save her own life, she chose not to go because she needed to stay to protect her girls.

And realistically that's really the best case scenario for the Rex fantasy, right? To be seen and known for all your scummy deeds and dark, vicious nature, and yet be loved and respected as a protector all the same? Maybe Eve wouldn't throw a parade for him if he died, but she'd pour one out for him with the girls and remember him fondly. We ate when he ate. He was a nasty sonuvabitch but he was ours.

And then.

Sofia comes. And all she has to do is tell the truth.

And the whole thing comes crumbling down.

Because Oz was never, and could never be the kind of man who deserves that respect and loyalty. Because it's only "we got each other's backs and don't screw each other over" as long as its convenient for him. Because Oz will do anything to have that Rex reputation, including undermining its very foundations.

Oz loved Eve, in his own way. Besides his mom and vic, Eve is the person he cares about the most. But he doesn't respect her. He doesn't value her priorities, only the affection she gives to him. So he screws over her girls, and hides it for a decade, and doesn't think a second about it because ultimately, he doesn't want to protect the people, he wants to be loved as a protector.

And once Eve, the person he has been the most Rex-like with for god knows how long, learns how deep the rot runs? She turns her back on him. Because as much as Oz wants to be loved like Rex, he can't help being anyone but The Penguin.

I also have to say, I absolutely adore that the person who does genuinely come closest to the fantasy Rex that realistically could never exist isn't Sofia—it's Eve herself.

For Oz, I eat you eat means sharing scraps off his plate with the people who fill it. For Eve, it means sharing in their meals. And when needed, sharing in the danger.

I think a worse, less thoughtful show would only really contrast Oz with his major rival, giving her the virtues he lacks and vice versa. And I have seen some reviewers and reactors talk as if like, Sofia sparing Eve earned her Eve's loyalty or something. Like Eve is switching from one mafia boss to another.

Nothing about that scene reads that way to me. Eve doesn't share Oz's location out of loyalty, or gratefulness. She doesn't owe anything to Sofia for not shooting her.

She tells Sofia because she gets it, gets how deeply Oz has fucked Sofia over. She tells her out of kindness, out of empathy, out of understanding.

And that is why she earns the Rex reputation, and Oz only borrows it.

#eve karlo #sofia falcone #sofia gigante #oz cobb #hbo penguin #the penguin hbo

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rodanhoax · 3 months ago

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Jaune: *Wielding the relic of destruction* It's over Pyrrha! Give me back my son!

Pyrrha: Don't you mean, "our" son?

Jaune: Pyrrha... y-you look so different.

Pyrrha: I did a little something with my hair. And my lips.

Jaune: Are those thigh highs?

Pyrrha: So you noticed those too?

Ironwood: Okay Jaune, take the shot.

Pyrrha: What do you think of them?

Jaune: I uh... um-

Ironwood: She's standing right there, Jaune. Take the shot.

Pyrrha: Do you like my open bust dress~?

Jaune: Oh god yeah.

Qrow: What the hell is wrong with you?!

Port: Blast this harpy!

Jaune: I'm sorry guys, b-but I cant.

Port: The shrew has been forged from brimstone.

Qrow: Translation?

Ironwood: He's saying she's an evil clone.

Jaune: I hear ya. Counterpoint:

Jaune: She's really hot.

Qrow: Damn it Arc!

Port: Reject women! Embrace huntsmanship!

Ironwood: Can't you see how evil she is?!

Pyrrha: I'm going for the goth girlfriend look.

Jaune: Okay guys, I know she's an evil clone... But, she is the mother of my child. To be honest, this situation is confusing as hell for me. I... I'm tapping out.

Qrow: Tapping out?

Ironwood: You're a huntsman, you can't tap out.

Jaune: Dude, I'm tapping out.

Port: What would Ozpin think of this treason?

Jaune: The professor?

-Flashback-

Ozpin: You're like a son to me Jaune, I trust you with my very life. I want you to know that I keep a gun in hidden inside my cane. It's always with me Jaune. I sleep with it. I dream of it. You can never be too careful around these students-

Jaune: It's not working, he... keeps talking about guns.

Ironwood: Guns?

Jaune: Yeah.

Qrow: That doesn't sound right.

Pyrrha: Are you sure this isn't his evil clone?

Jaune: He kind of hinted it was for... self defense?

Port: Guns are nothing before my axe!

Qrow: Isn't your axe also a gun?

Port: Silence!

Ironwood: You don't think the professor actually used it do you?

Jaune: Do I think the professor shot someone? No, of course not. That's like totally ridiculous. Besides, we would have heard about it.

Pyrrha: He could have just wiped your memories.

Jaune: What?

Pyrrha: He could have shot someone then wiped everyone's memories about the event. With his magic it would have been easy for him.

Jaune: This is a terrifying thought.

Ironwood: Don't listen to her Jaune!

Pyrrha: Join me Jaune. The Grimm Queen needs a king.

Jaune: Not gonna lie, Grimm Queen is kind of weird, but i'm in.

Port: Step away from her you fool!

Jaune: I'm kind of bricked up at the moment.

Qrow: Don't worry Arc, I know this ain't easy. That's why I offer myself... as a sacrifice. Do what you want to me Pyrrha, make me your freaky sex puppet for all I care. Just let Arc go!

Port: What a noble gesture!

Ironwood: He is truly the best of us.

Qrow: Tie me up. Slap me. Step on me! It's alright, my ego ain't that big. Just leave the kid out of this!

Jaune: I know what you're doing.

Qrow: You ain't gotta thank me Jaune. Y'know... I really shoulda said this sooner, but... but you're like a brother to me!

Jaune: You've always had a thing for her.

Qrow: Oz would've been proud of ya, kid. I know I sure as hell am.

Jaune: You can't just live out your sick fantasies with my fake goth girlfriend!

Port: Your words can no longer reach him... His heart is set.

Ironwood: We shall remember you, Qrow... We shall remember you.

Qrow: So Pyrrha... How ya wanna do this? Should I take off the cape now, or-

Pyrrha: Sorry, Qrow, but you're a little old for my taste. Not to mention a furry.

Qrow: Furries deserve love!

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #qrow branwen #james ironwood #peter port #rwby arkos #arkos #UndeadHumor

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doodler16 · 2 months ago

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"If anything Ozzie could’ve been the one who would ask where Stolas is, yknow an established character we already know and someone who knows the details and gave Blitzø the ozmedous crystal so they don’t have to travel illegally."

i think this is the exact reason viv wants to act like ozzie was incapable of doing anything by passive aggressively liking fans tweets that argued he couldnt have possibly spoken up. because if he had even tried to save blitzs heiny by saying truthfully, "hey, wait - i know that guy! my partner fizz is friends with him! and he didn't force himself onto stolas, stolas personally asked me for an asmodean crystal for him when he realized he had, and i quote, 'feelings' for the imp! see? look at his right forearm, that there's one of my crystals, legally approved of." then they all would've believed a seven deadly fucking sin over some pissy elsa rip off that's ranks below ozzie, who has NO evidence of these vile accusations, vs the literal asmodean crystal on blitzs arm that you can literally see throughout the entire the trial. it's not like they took it off or anything! it's still there! keeping in mind theres no such thing as bootlegs crystals, because every on screen depiction (and i think even on screen description) states that an asmodean crystal is a personal item tied to it's owner - it's LEGAL owner.

but if that had happened, then we wouldn't have gotten our stoliz climax where stolas shows he loves blitz by.. doing the bare minimum of NOT letting blitz die due to STOLAS'S DECISION in murder family to make them fuck for the book, instead of giving his "first ever fwiend" an asmodean crystal immediately. how romantic!

im just getting so sick of the parasocial vivziepop stans doing backflips in logic to justify the way the story is, without realizing that they could and SHOULD be given something better. they see the cracks, but viv just doesn't want them to, because it's her way or the highway - she's the biggest fan of her own show, so things happen the way she wants them to, not in a way that makes any logical sense when you put it under the usual critical eye the average writer (and casual viewer) would.

i mean, what if oz said that, but satan still deemed a punishment against blitz worthy for having the grimorie to begin with at all as an imp, still tried to execute blitz as a public display of power, and THEN oz texts stolas while notifications of fizz texting oz pop up? you still get your angst, have ozzie ACTUALLY be a good person who's willing to put his neck out on the line for someone lesser then him with no personal gain and not just be a canonical complacent royal fuck who was about to let his lovers reunited best friend die on public television, which is why i will never be invested in fizzozzie ever again tbh, and STILL have your big stoliz savior moment, without it happening due to just because of stolas just so happening to turn on the news that day. a text from oz could've given stolas a moment to very briefly consider if this is something he should intervene in, before realizing he has to, because blitz made him feel free for the first time in his life. now he can free him too, from the grimorie, and from suffering the consequences of his actions that put blitz in this position unfairly to begin with. also i wouldn't personally write stolas following this up with a song about how he's the mastermind behind a plan he knows nothing about or have him insult his "lovers" intelligence repeatedly within it, "that's the point," my ass, stolas could've just sung about the way blitz made him feel when they first met as kids and then again as adults, and why he gave him the grimorie because of that, contradicting andres imp rape claim and showing blitz that stolas DOES care in a way that ISNT self sacrifice, but nooooo, we need just one more song of stolas being a entertaining dick! no wonder she said this episode was self indulgent lol

Someone get rid of Vivziepop’s Twitter or someone on her Spindlehorse team get Viv a social media manager. 💀 The fact this woman is passively aggressively liking tweets in defense of her show is insane. And maybe just maybe Vivziepop should explain herself in the show instead of Twitter.

I don’t care what anybody says Ozzie could’ve done more and spoken up. He is one of the seven deadly sins and has the power to make a difference. If Stolas (someone who is lower than Ozzie in terms of status) can make a heroic entrance to save his booty call and talk/sing against Satan. Then Ozzie has a chance.

Anon why is your version so much better. That “Mastermind” song so unnecessary (it’s one of the few songs I personally don’t vibe with except the ending, I will admit Satan and other sins part is fire). Stolas says how he love blitzø yet uses any chance to insult and demean his intelligence in the most mean spirited way possible.

#vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #anonymous #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism

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deeplyshalllow · 2 months ago

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Hi,

I absolutely love your posts on Fiyeraba scenes in the Wicked movie! I wanted to ask and this is just a thought I had but do you think Fiyero heals Elphaba with his acceptance of her appearance and as a person, because her major trauma stems from her father's rejection at her birth cause you hear "take it away" at many points throughout pivotal moments. Now that I think about it, her friendship with Glinda could be represented as a version of Elphaba's dynamic with Nessa where the sisters love each other but Nessa never protects Elphaba the way she does.

What are your thoughts on this?

Keep up the great content!!! 😃

Firstly, I am so sorry it's taken me this long to reply! It's been on my to do list all week but Pre Christmas and work and the need to also write a 3500 word essay on the Lion Cub scene, has made it hard for me to find the time to write a proper answer.

Short answer: I agree.

Long answer: I think Elphaba is hugely damaged by the way her father treats her. I think she has been othered all her life, including by the people who should love her and she so desperately loves. And a lot of this presents itself both in doing anything for them, even when it personally hurts her, and almost deliberately making sure everyone else sees her as a person as "ugly" as her green skin. Because, if she does that, she doesn't end up finding other people whom she loves who don't love her back or betray her, as she says in the Lion Cub scene, she sees it as an issue that she "cares so much".

There's actually three people at Shiz who really challenge Elphaba's view of the world.

Firstly, Doctor Dillamond, who shows her kindness and also regards her as a friend. But it is important to note that he is also othered, Elphaba's fight for the Animals is to some degree because she sees herself in them, she wants them to be able to fit in in a way she never has had. She empathises and her bond with Doctor Dillamond is stronger because they both share similar problems.

Galinda and Fiyero are the first, I think, to get Elphaba out of her shell. They are the ones who love her for who she is, nothing to do with her green skin, and yes, I do think it's healing. She's let down her mask of defensiveness and discovered that people do like her for what's underneath! There is a moment in the movie, when everyone is cheering Elphaba off at the train station where I thought "ok, they could just end the story here and it's the most heartwarming, happy ending for Elphaba" and obviously it's tragic that this is never to be.

Interestingly, I think Elphaba initially regards Morrible and the Wizard as people who see her for who she is too. Morrible because she's very motherly and values Elphaba when she wants to use her for her power (especially in the movie), and the Wizard because Elphaba has grown up believing him in an almost God like way - being so sure he will understand and know best. So that it is ultimately them that betray her hits her very hard.

Which leads to Defying Gravity and Act 2. Where, unfortunately, a lot of this healing for Elphaba is reversed. She's betrayed by Morrible, the Wizard (and to an extent Glinda) when she's condemned as a Wicked Witch, people still judge her for the colour of her skin. She does fight to do what is right, but she does it while sacrificing herself, what she wants, who she loves, what will make her happy - what she had been doing her entire pre Shiz years for Nessa.

There are so many heartbreaking lines in act two where we see how hurt Elphaba is by losing people she trusted or cared about:

"Boq, it's just me, I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Nessa, I have done everything I could for you but it has never been enough and it never will be"

"Don't you think I wish I could? That I could go back to the time when I believed you really were wonderful? The Wonderful Wizard of Oz? Nobody believed in you more than I did."

"Fiyero, not you too," (though obviously this one gets very quickly resolved)

"I can't believe you would sink this low! To use my sister's death as a trap to capture me?!"

So, when we get to As Long As You're Mine, and the scene afterwards, I think Fiyero does attempt heal her, and I do think it does good, but there's also this line:

Elphaba: I wish I could be beautiful... for you. Fiyero: Elphaba... Elphaba: Don't tell me that I am, you don't need to lie to me.

Elphaba's wounds cut deep. And, if I'm honest, I'm not sure she's ever going to be fully healed.

I do think the end of the show, Elphaba passing the task of helping Oz onto Glinda, of being able to go with Fiyero and live a life for themselves is a way to heal. She's given so much of herself to her cause, because she doesn't really value herself as a person, Fiyero - who loves her for who she is and will do anything for her including laying down his life, lets her finally do something for herself that makes her happy. And likewise Glinda, though she doesn't necessarily know it, carrying on her legacy, means Elphaba no longer has to worry about leaving the fight - she knows Oz is in safe hands.

Through the two people she loved the most, by the finale Elphaba might finally be able to heal.

Also, as I have nowhere else to put it: I think her father's treatment of Nessa also fucks Nessa up. I know they're going to change it for the movie, as it's seen as ablest (and I don't want to say it's not as I have a friend who literally has a Doctorate in disability history who sees it as ablest too) but I've always seen the fact that Nessa thinks her chair as a curse as an attitude driven by her father. Her father, in blaming Elphaba for Nessa's disability and coddling Nessa because of it, has always made Nessa feel like it's her defining trait and it's something wrong with her. This has led Nessa to both treat Elphaba as if she owes her something, but also believe her life would be perfect if she could walk - a belief that is brutally smashed in Act 2 when she is given the ability to walk.

#wicked movie #wicked musical #elphaba #fiyero #fiyero x elphaba #glinda #nessa #fiyeraba #wicked meta

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fandomspacenqueue · 2 months ago

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Utterly heartbreaking how the reveal about the truth of the Wizard through the beginning of Defying Gravity is just one long sequence of betrayals for poor Elphaba. First she gets manipulated by the Wizard and Madame Morrible into casting a spell that harmed the monkeys, which she never intended or wanted (and the way the Wizard and Morrible were framed during this scene almost as if they were Elphaba's proud parents was an extra gut punch). Then she learns that not only are they responsible for the plight of the Animals, they've both actively lied to her about it. And of course, that the Wizard is nothing but a fraud. Then, while she's reeling from the complete shattering of her entire worldview, they start trying to cajole and threaten her into falling in line (Morrible's "Think about your future, dearie" line sounded SO menacing to my ears), even recruiting her own best friend into basically ganging up on Elphaba. Watching the horror and heartbreak grow on Cynthia Erivo's face with each passing moment brought tears to my eyes; just an absolute tour de force in emotional acting.

Then, after the chase/balloon sequence (where, notably, Elphaba and Glinda almost got away! To have come so close to escaping only to be foiled at the last moment must've felt so crushing), we get Morrible's speech demonizing Elphaba to the entirety of Oz. Again, I can't praise Cynthia's acting enough. She really sold "thought the situation had already hit rock bottom only to discover there was still a ways to go" so well. And the sheer betrayal of the very first person we saw on screen treat grown Elphaba with kindness and never react negatively to her skin color to then turn around and use that to paint Elphaba as a monster. Morrible is just so evil.

And finally, this might be a bit of a controversial take, but I see Glinda refusing to go with Elphaba as the icing on the cake of betrayal. They've had guards chasing after them. They've just heard a broadcast framing Elphaba as Public Enemy Number One in Oz. She's in very real danger. Yet, in Elphaba's greatest hour of need, her best friend refuses to stand by her. Yes, it was an impossible and unfair situation. Yes, the choice Glinda makes is about more than just her personal relationship with Elphaba. Yes, Elphaba does not hold Glinda's choice against her. I understand all of that. But I still cannot see Glinda's refusal to stand with her best friend against those who would harm her as anything other than one final betrayal on this horrible day. Not to mention Glinda then joining the very regime hunting Elphaba down in the next Act.

On that note, it really hurts to think about just how stacked the deck was against Elphaba no matter what she chose. Having been discriminated against all her life through absolutely no fault of her own, she makes an almost too perfect "enemy" for the Wizard to hold up to the public, feeding into all their preexisting prejudices about her. She stood absolutely no chance against this character assassination, especially coming from the Wizard, who has been all but deified in Oz. And even if she had chosen to try to work against the Wizard from within the system, as I've seen so many takes argue she should've done, leaving aside the morality of participating in a fascist regime in the vague hope that someday she might be in a position to overthrow him (of which there is absolutely no guarantee), I'd argue that her chances of success were already greatly diminished from the moment she learned the truth. The Wizard and Morrible had seen how horrified she was. I don't think they'd ever fully trust her because of it, so they'd always be on guard against her. And even if Elphaba played along long enough for that to change, that would surely take a very long time, at which point would it even be possible to undo any of the damage done under the regime? I do believe she made the best decisions she could possibly make in this situation, but the cards she was dealt were just shitty all around.

My heart weeps for Elphaba. All the kudos to Cynthia Erivo's stunning portrayal of her, especially during the Defying Gravity sequence. Just utter perfection.

#wicked #wicked 2024 #wicked movie #wicked spoilers #elphaba thropp #cynthia erivo #i love elphaba so much #cynthia deserves all the awards #wicked meta

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lowkeyhollland · 5 months ago

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it'll be a wednesday

peter parker x reader "it'll be a wednesday & i'll be going into this coffee shop" can u tell i have a coffee addiction

Peter groaned when he accidentally spilled an iced coffee behind the counter. He grabbed paper towels to clean up the majority of the beverage on the floor before grabbing a mop to clean up the rest of the area. The bell above the door rang and Peter mentally sighed. His morning wasn’t off to the best start; a spilled coffee, ten minutes late to his shift, and now it felt like a morning rush.

“Hi, welcome in,” his voice trailed off once his eyes landed on you. You smiled acknowledging him before reading their menu.

He patiently waited by the register for when you were ready but couldn’t help but stare; at how your head was slightly tilted to the side causing your hair to fall over your shoulders, messing with the case on your phone, popping it in and out of its place. Peter ignored the other customers who had walked in shortly after you, taking their orders on autopilot. He watched as your eyes lit up when you read their seasonal drink special and walked a few steps forward, your eyes still locked on the menu so you knew you couldn’t mess up your order.

“What can I get started for you?” Peter followed his unofficial official script.

“Uh, hi! Could I get a medium iced Nutella latte, please?” Your voice was hypnotic to the brunette boy. He thought he could listen to you talk all day for the rest of his life.

“And what’s the name?” He took out a Sharpie and wrote down ‘16 oz. iced Nutella’ on the plastic cup.

“Y/n.” He smiled at the name as you watched him write it down, even smiling to yourself when he spelled it correctly.

“Alright, Y/n. I’ll have that right out for you.” He walked away after you paid and you found a table off to the side to sit at while you waited.

This was your first time in this coffee shop, and you are still trying out new places. You took the whole place in; the warm fairy lights hung around the building, the cream-colored walls with local artists’ paintings, couches in the corner with games on a coffee table for others to play.

Peter called out your name, a small blush crept onto his cheeks when he saw you walking towards him. He knew it meant nothing, you were just another customer. But oh how he wanted to see you shyly walk toward him with a smile on your face every day.

“Thank you…” your voice trailed off, eyes scanning anywhere for a name tag.

“Peter!” He beamed.

“Thank you, Peter,” you smiled at him one last time before grabbing a straw and walking away. “Have a nice day!” You yelled as you walked out the door, causing butterflies to stir in Peter’s stomach.

His day just got so much better.

– – –

It had been a week since you had walked into Peter’s coffee shop. He had lost hope that you would ever show again making up scenarios on why you never came back, but he knew this was delusion at its finest.

It was early afternoon and the morning rush had finally died down. Peter was in the middle of making a matcha when he heard the bell ring. He looked up for a quick second and caught a glimpse of your hair.

“Uhhh matcha for… Ashley!” Peter’s eyes flickered between the drink in his hands and you, barely able to read the name.

“Thanks, cutie,” a blonde girl walked up to Peter, winking at him as she took her drink out of his hands, fingers slightly brushing up against each other. Peter’s ears turned pink at the nickname, giving her a polite smile.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, when are you off? I’d love to get to know you more.” Ashley was eyeing Peter up and down while he shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m not so sure, just, you know… whenever?” The blonde girl gave Peter a weird look.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you around, handsome.” Ashley spun on her heel and walked out, the bell ringing above her. Peter exhaled and wiped away sweat he didn’t even know was there.

“So, are you that bad at flirting or are you too nice to tell someone you’re taken?” You asked Peter once he was in front of you. His face turned red, smiling & looking down at his shoes to hide his face.

“I- uh- just wasn’t interested.”

“So, bad at flirting.” You smirked at the brown-eyed boy noticing how red his face was getting from, what you assumed was, embarrassment.

“Yeah, yeah,” he playfully rolled his eyes and you giggled. “So, what can I get for you today?”

“An iced Nutella latte, please!” Peter’s face lit up as he recognized your order from last time.

“Medium?”

“Yes, please.”

“And what was the name?” It was Y/n. Peter already knew because that name had been ringing in his head for the last seven days. He wrote it down as you responded to him, doodling a little smiley face next to it.

Peter quickly got started on making your drink, looking back at you now and then. You looked up from your phone when he called your name, walking towards the boy with a smile on your face.

“Thank you so much, Peter!” You exclaimed while his ears turned pink when you remembered his name.

“Y-You’re welcome, Y/n.” Peter grinned, noticing you remembered his name. He watched you walk away, but you quickly turned to face him.

“Oh also,” you started and Peter leaned in. “How late are you guys open?”

“Are you flirting with me?” You let out a laugh at his response.

“No, you’d know if I was flirting with you,” you smirked at him. Though he hates to admit it, his heart broke a little when you confirmed you were not. “I just love the atmosphere here. It’s great for studying.” You continued to smile at the boy.

“We’re open till midnight.”

“Really?! Why so late?” Peter shrugged.

“I’ve never really thought about it. I’m guessing it’s cause we’re in a college town, which gives students a nice place to study and do group projects.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll see you around, Peter.” You winked at him before walking away and his cheeks flushed pink.

– – –

The next couple of weeks, you came into the coffee shop often. Conveniently, Peter had been working most of the time you came. He had your order memorized like the back of his hand, but sometimes you would take him by surprise and order a muffin or a bagel.

The bell rang and he smiled when he saw you walk in. It was his favorite part of all of his shifts. Sure, he had a few regulars that he loved talking to, but the small talk between the two of you has slowly made its way to one of the favorite things he looks forward to nearly every day.

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/n!” Peter beamed.

“Hello!” You smiled brightly at him, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

“The usual?”

“Yes, please.” Peter put in your order, doodling another smiley next to your name on the cup. He took you in as you tapped your phone on the card reader.

“I like your outfit.” He complimented. It wasn’t anything much, just an oversized cream-knitted sweater with a short denim skirt paired with brown high-top Converse. You shyly smiled and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, a small blush painted across your cheeks.

“Thanks. This skirt just came in the mail today, I hope it isn’t too short.” You pulled it down a little even though your backpack was hung low enough to hide anything.

“It’s cute, I love it.” Peter smiled as he continued to stare at you. He started to think about how if he finally had the balls to just ask for your number. The outfit you would wear if he took you out on a date during this fall season like for a pumpkin patch or even a haunted house. Would you lean into him when you cold—

“So… my drink?” You asked, snapping him out of his daze.

“Oh! Right, right. Uh, I’ll get started on it.” You giggled at how flustered Peter was when he almost dropped the empty cup.

“You are fucking delusional,” Peter mumbled to himself as he made your drink.

You found a table near a window to get started on some homework. You set up your computer and notebook, put on headphones, and started on your homework. Indulged in your work, you didn’t hear your name being called and practically jumped out of your seat when Peter tapped you on the shoulder.

“Holy shit you scared the crap out of me,” you exclaimed. Peter laughed and set your drink down.

“Next time, maybe don’t be blasting Red by Taylor Swift.” Your face flushed as red as the cover of the album.

“How did you…?”

“I could hear it. You know, you can destroy your eardrums by playing music that loudly.”

“And you know I simply do not care.” You smiled smugly at the boy and he just laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re wearing hearing aids at 40.” You playfully rolled your eyes at the smirk plastered on his face. “Enjoy your latte!” When he walked away, yelled back at you leaving you a smiling mess.

A few hours had gone by and you were still hunched over your homework. A yawn escaped your mouth causing you to drop your pen, laying your head on your arms on the table. You felt someone nudge your arm so you looked up only to be met with chocolate brown eyes. You took off your headphones and gave him a confused look.

“Here, on the house.” Peter handed you a coffee cake muffin and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. Or maybe it was the hunger.

“How’d you know this one is my favorite?”

“You’ve ordered it a few times,” Peter scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “You just looked like you needed something.”

“Are you saying I look bad right now?” You raised an eyebrow and his eyes widened.

“No! No, no. Not at all. I mean like you just— I mean you were falling asleep and—“ You laughed and he joined in with you. “I just thought it would help you focus on… whatever you’re doing.” He took a quick look at your work, all the scribbles and numbers in your notebook looked like a foreign language to him which took him by surprise because whatever had numbers involved, he normally understood.

“Thanks, it’s very much appreciated.” You took a bite from the muffin, relaxing a bit.

“It’s no problem. What have you been working on? It’s Friday, shouldn’t you be having fun tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood but you just rolled your eyes.

“Bro don’t even get me started. It’s my accounting homework. We have an exam coming up and I need to finish this if I wanna go out tonight.” You looked at your work and shuddered. Just the sight of it was repulsing to you.

“You’re in accounting? You don’t strike me as a finance man— uh woman.” You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head.

“Correct. I’m not. I’m in business marketing, but one of the required classes to even get into the business school is accounting. It’s absolute death.”

“What do you want to do with your marketing degree?” Peter asked, taking the seat across from you.

“I’m not really sure yet, the field is so broad. I just like making things pretty.”

“I can see that,” Peter gestured to your notes filled with colorful pens. You giggled and shook your head.

“It just helps me understand what’s going into which account, that’s all. But in all honesty, with my degree, I think it would be so fun to work in social media or the fashion industry. Ooh! Or maybe even do the marketing for a tour for like Taylor Swift or something. That would be everything.” Peter listened to you intently and you felt yourself become a little shy of the attention.

The two of you ended up talking for a while, finding out where he goes to school and what he’s studying for. You’ve always loved your small talks with the cute barista, but this was another level. You admired how he looked with the sun hitting his brown curls perfectly while it was setting. He looked unreal but in a good way.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be working?” You glanced at the clock and noticed you had been sitting and chatting for thirty minutes. His ears turned pink and he looked down at his hands.

“I actually clocked out when I gave you your muffin.” He sheepishly smiled at you and all you could do was smile.

“And you are so, so sweet for that. Thank you so much! But don’t you want to go home? I feel so bad, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you away from anything.” Peter’s heart warmed at how thoughtful you were of his time, but he felt bad that you felt bad

“No! You’re not keeping me from anything, I promise. This was really nice.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

“Oh good, good. Well, I was thinking of heading out because looking at my notes is giving me a headache and I think I would rather die than look at any of this anymore today.”

“We can, um, walk out together? If you want to, that is, unless you have somewhere to go then–”

“Yeah! Yeah, no I would like that. And there’s less of a chance of me being kidnapped with a cute guy walking with me.” You bit back a laugh as you watched Peter’s face turn red. Once you had packed up all your stuff, the two of you headed out the door into the chilly autumn evening.

“Do you guys have fall break coming up?” You asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yeah, I think it’s next week.” Peter had no idea what to do. What do you mean he’s walking with his crush, specifically, seeing her outside his work? He just stuffed his hands in his pockets and ignored the desire to hold your hand.

“Same! Are you doing anything fun?”

“Not sure, probably just gonna go home and spend time with my aunt. I’ve been so busy with work and school I haven’t had a lot of time to swing by.” No pun intended, Peter thought to himself.

“Oh, that’s so sweet. So, you’re from around here?”

“Yeah! Are you?” You were about to respond until you saw a familiar face running towards you.

“Y/n! Oh my god! Hey!” It was one of your suitemates, Sophia. The two of you hugged while Peter just stood awkwardly to the side. “Did you see my text?”

“Ugh, no. I’m so sorry! I had been studying all day.” You pulled out your phone to find her text.

“It’s all good! Well, our favorite frat is throwing a party tonight. We’re all gonna go get ready right now.”

“Oh my god! I neeeeed to go!” You smirked at Sophia. Peter watched the entire interaction, just smiling and nodding his head. “Oh! This is Peter. Peter, this is my suitemate, Sophia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Peter reached his arm out and they shook hands.

“Is this the cute–” Sophia started but you smacked her arm to stop, sending her a glare.

“Thanks for walking with me, Peter. We gotta go, though. I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes! Yeah, I’ll see you soon, Y/n.” You bit back a smile and waved goodbye to him. Peter watched as you and Sophia walked away, smiling a bit until he realized: he didn’t even ask for your number.

– – –

Peter was working another afternoon shift, which he didn’t mind at all. He was still a little upset that he didn’t get your number, so he made himself an iced Nutella latte so he could wallow in his sadness over the greatest fumble of his life. The bell rang but Peter ignored it, popping a lid over the plastic cup and grabbing a straw.

“Peter?” He recognized that angelic voice anywhere. Turning around, he saw you fidgeting with your hands at the register. Your hair was thrown up in a messy bun, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with black sunglasses on.

“Hey!” He put the drink down before he had even gotten a sip and ran up to the register.

“I have the worst hangover ever,” your voice barely above a whisper. Peter quickly slid over the latte he made for himself to you.

“On the house, because you look like you need it,” Peter bit back a smirk. It was hard to see your expression with those big sunglasses on, but he could imagine you rolling your eyes by the way you bit your lips to hold back a smile.

“You are an angel sent from heaven,” you praised the boy, drinking the smooth, sugary liquid.

“So I’m guessing you had fun last night?” Peter wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I fear I become a whole other person when drinking Pink Whitney.”

“Damn, what happened?”

“I don’t even remember, I blacked. I guess I made out with one of the frat guys, according to my friends. Oh, and I threw a drink in someone’s face. I don’t know.” Peter was unsure of how to respond. He wasn’t a huge party person so he couldn’t really relate to any drinking experiences, but he also didn’t know how to respond to you making out with a guy.

“Is this the reason why that’s your ‘favorite frat?’” Peter asked, using his fingers as quotations to quote Sophie from yesterday. You let out a dry chuckle and shook your head.

“It’s our favorite because the guys in it are actually the most stupid people I’ve ever met. I mean, last night, they literally set up a slip ‘n slide down their stairs. It’s so fun to watch,” you swirled your coffee with the straw, reminiscing moments from last night. “You should come with us next time!”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not really a ‘party’ person,” Peter avoided your eye contact while your lips formed a line. “But,” Peter’s tone changed. “Maybe I’ll go, just for you.” Your face lit up, nodding in silent confirmation of those unofficial plans.

“When are you off?”

“Are you flirting with me, Y/n?”

“Maybe,” you said, your voice was airy. Like clockwork, Peter’s face turned red and you just smirked at him.

“I’m off in fifteen. If you wanna wait, we can, uh, you know, walk–”

“Yeah! I’m down,” you smiled at the boy before walking away to sit at your usual table, waiting for the cute barista.

And that’s how the next few weeks were. You would get your coffee and sometimes Peter would give it to you for free (those were automatically your favorite days), you would wait for him to get off work, and then the two of you would walk home together. Peter would tell himself every day that it was the day he would finally get your number, but one of you always had something urgent to get to once you had to go your separate ways. Last week, your suitemate’s cat ran away. A few days ago, Peter had a Spidey emergency where he just ran off.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t waiting for Peter to finally ask you out. He consumed your mind, despite you never hanging out outside of the coffee shop. The two of you talked about your schools, the classes you were taking, and just random stories on your walks home. He would even help you with your accounting homework while he was on break or if it was slow. He was so endearing and kind to you, but you were waiting for him to make the first move.

But soon, those weeks turned cold fast. You hadn’t shown up at his coffee shop in a week and a half. Peter was starting to worry that you died or something, searching for you while on patrol and mindlessly staring out the window, hoping you would walk in.

– – –

It was a cold, winter day. Peter made himself a hot chocolate to wallow himself in his sorrows after not seeing you for so long. He was starting to beat himself up for never asking for your number, in fear that he wouldn’t ever see you again. He didn’t even know your last name to search for you on Instagram.

Christmas had passed and the new year had already begun. He had all these daydreams about the two of you spending the holidays together, but you never showed. He started to think that maybe you found a new barista to flirt with and you and your new boyfriend had babies together already.

Even Peter’s coworkers had noticed his mood drop. When you started to go to their coffee shop frequently, his entire personality was a lot brighter. He smiled more and hummed while making everyone’s drinks. But now, he would just stare out the window, grieving the loss of what never even began.

Peter drank his hot chocolate while watching the snow fall outside from behind the counter. Some buildings still had their Christmas lights up, making the city feel more homey than ever.

“Welcome in,” Peter mindlessly announced when he heard the bell ring. He hadn’t bothered looking over, assuming one of his coworkers would take over the register.

“Wow, I’m gone for like a month and that’s all I get?” Peter whipped his head around so fast he could have gotten whiplash.

“Y/n!” He ran around the corner to hug you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into the hug. “Where have you been?”

“Missed me that much, pretty boy?” You laughed as he playfully rolled his eyes to hide his blush. Peter walked behind the counter again so he could take your order, but he took you in. You were wearing a maroon beanie and a white winter coat over your big knitted sweater.

“Aren’t you cold?” He referred to your ripped jeans.

“Not really,” you just shrugged.

“The usual?”

“Yes, please!”

“You still want it iced?” Peter raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded your head.

“Yes, oh my god. I’ve been craving this drink for the last month!”

“You’re crazy to want an iced drink in this weather.”

“Call me whatever you want, but I’m feening for this drink.” Peter laughed at you when you took out your card, prepared to pay.

“So, where have you been?”

“Oh! I went home for break.” You said it so nonchalantly like you didn’t leave Peter alone and depressed for the last month.

“You’re not from around here?” He questioned you.

“No. I could’ve sworn I told you I was gonna be gone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!” You pursed your lip out and Peter just gave you a sad smile.

“It’s okay, not like I missed my favorite person or anything.” Your eyes widened and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle when he walked away to make your drink.

As Peter was making your latte, he knew he couldn’t risk going no contact with you again. He grabbed a Sharpie from the register and quickly wrote down his number next to your name, hoping you would notice.

“Y/n!” He called out. You smiled at him as you were walking up, grabbing the drink from the counter.

“Thank you! I gotta go, I already have assignments to start on. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah! See you later, Y/n.” He waved and smiled at you. You gave him one last wave as you walked out the door, your back pushing it open.

Peter went the rest of his shift high on adrenaline, making the best drinks he’s probably made since the first day you walked into the coffee shop. He clocked out and grabbed his backpack, walking out into the cold. He felt his phone buzz from his coat pocket, taking it out to see it.

hey pretty boy :)

Peter was smiling and giggling the rest of his walk home.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #tom holland

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gilverrwrites · 8 months ago

Note

Hii! It's Sugar Daddy (Arkham) Oz anon again! I promise that after this one I will leave you alone 😭 It's nothing overcomplicated, just reader looking for aftercare and Oz realising in that moment that she genuenly loves him. Something nice and sweet (well, as sweet as it gets with Arkham Oz lol). Reader's personality is the same from my previous request! You can skip the NSFW part if you want since I'm more interested on want comes afterwards, though if you wanna write anything about it I won't mind at all! Thank you again! <3

What You Want

Arkham!Penguin/Reader No Oz anon, please don't leave! Gotta have someone to thirst over Sugar Daddy Ozzie with!

1K Words CWs: No smut, but mentions of sex, Sugar Daddy/Baby dynamic exhibitionism, minipulative reader, mild angst. Petnames: Kitten, F!Reader 18+ MINORS DNI

He might be getting on in years, might be wearing an extra few pounds, but nobody could accuse him of not being able to keep up with the youngins’. He’d put you through the wringer, that was for sure.

A self-satisfied smile spreads across his face as he looks at you now, half his age at most, strewn out across the bed, still panting, and shaking, swollen and bruised in the places he’d stretched and squeezed at, bending you in ways you didn’t know could be bent. You stare back at him through lids you can barely keep open. Eyes that drive him crazy. Eyes that would make him hard all over again if he still had it in him.

He’s about to crack wise, say something about ‘you askin’ for more? Don’t think you’ve got it in ya girl’ when there’s a knock on the door. Neither of you reach for the comforter, you know too well how Oz likes to show you off, especially when he’s made a mess of you.

A moment later Candy pokes her head through the door, she does well to keep a straight face, despite her wondering eyes. She’d been in your place not too long ago, but she didn’t have your spunk. Didn’t know when to push and pull, when to bat her lashes at just the right time to wrap him around her finger. There wasn’t a soul in this city who could make an honest man out of him, but so far, you’d come closest.

“Phone call for ya boss. Says it’s important.” She declares, casually tossing the phone to him when he gestures for it and making her exit. It was one of the boys, muttering on about a planned shipment coming in, and a Robin being spotted in the area. He’d be fuming, irate that not one of the people he paid knew how to do their damn job, if your bloody eyes weren’t on him, now fully awake, all big and admiring. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you want him for more than just his money.

“Alright, alright, bunch of morons. Keep your knickers straight, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

At that you pout, pushing your bottom lip out. “Awh, why the sour face, kitten?”

“I just thought you’d stay longer.” You continue to skulk, batting those long lashes as you crawl closer to him.

“Go have a bath or somethin’, I’ll be back later.” He informs you, shuffling off the bed and heading for his clothes before you can start peppering him with those sweet, ever-so-tempting kisses that are sure to keep him where he is, basking into the limelight of your affections like some love-sick schoolboy. “Go hang out with the girls, I’ll give ya some cash to get food with.”

“I don’t want to hang out with the girls.” You speak so eloquently, yet so belligerently, kneeling up on the bed, showing off all the good. “And I don’t want food, I don’t want any of that. I want you, Oswald. I want you to stay here with me.”

Oswald? You never called him Oswald. It was Oz to your friends, Mr Penguin to his boys, Ozzie when you wanted something, and Daddy when you got it, but never Oswald. Oswald was reserved for the serious stuff. You hadn’t called him Oswald since the night you’d called him sobbing down the phone about a nightmare you’d had. Why you’d called him for comfort was a mystery, but he’d done his best to soothe your crying, talking with you until you’d fallen asleep with the line still open.

“Why?” He can’t help the confused tone that slips out. He’s done the bit he spoils you for putting up with, you should be relieved he’s giving you an early out. Instead, the moment his fingers touch your cheek to try and calm you, you lock your fingers around his wrist. Gently, trying to pull him closer, ghosting his skin with paper-soft kisses until your face sits comfortably in the palm of his hand.

“Because that was a lot, Ozzie, and it always feels better when you stick around after… Because I love you.”

The words hang in the air, thick as cigar smoke. They weren’t unheard of between the two of you, but he’d never taken it seriously before, you’d just said it to sweeten the pot.

“Please Ozzie, I’ll love you forever.” “Thank you, Daddy, mwah, love you!”

But something about the way you said it, the way you’re looking at him has him thinking differently. You’ve already bared everything for him, but there’s something off about your demeanour, something vulnerable, something that has him believing it this time.

“I…” He sucks his teeth, thinks about his next words carefully. He wants to placate you, please you, love you, but he can’t come off as weak. Theres a distinct difference between loving someone for the things they can do for you, and simply loving someone. “I can probably stay a bit longer, the boys all be alright. How about we take that bath together, aye? Would that keep ya happy?”

You’re disappointed. You try to hide it, but he sees it faster than you can mask it. The pull of your lips, the droop of your lids before it’s replaced with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“That would be great, Daddy.” Your hand thread through his body hair, twisting and curling it between your fingers. Your mouth is soft and inviting, as you plant gentle kisses to his upper body, conveying your gratitude. “You’re the best.”

He’s just starting to melt under the near-intoxicating touch when it’s gone again. You’re holding his hand, leading him to the ensuite. He watches you closely, wondering how much longer you’ll love him without the returns you’re hoping for. How many shoes, bags, and shiny trinkets he’ll have to invest in to prolong your affections, or if, per usual, you’ll find a way to get what you want.

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