#if you push me hard enough I can make it into a love triangle I am easily convinced

[clonerightsagenda]

How's Uglies holding up to modern rereading for you? I loved it as a kid, but nowadays I see it as an early entry in the YA dystopia boom that other books took formula notes from and refined down the line, making it feel a fair bit clumsier by comparison. Very fond memories, though, and I appreciate seeing the toxic yuri on my dash now that I'm old enough to appreciate it, lol.

It's holding up pretty well for me! I'll be honest - while I read The Hunger Games and Unwind, I never read Divergent or The Maze Runner, so I'm not entirely versed in the YA dystopia boom. I'm aware of the cultural construction of it though - world's specialest teen girl is the only one who can topple the government and lead a revolution. I'm not even sure how many of the actual series align with that stereotype (imo The Hunger Games is deliberately interrogating it) but anyway, some thoughts re: Uglies' position vis a vis dystopia stereotypes and just in general:

The love triangle is annoying, no arguments there, but it also ends more messily than I think the stereotype typically conveys. She 'chooses' one of them and then he dies as a direct result of her behavior, and she's not with-with the other at the end of the main series (and in the sequel series they've gone their separate ways).

Also, Tally is frequently a pretty unlikable person, which is a bold choice! She is not motivated by any pure intentions at the beginning - she's betraying a friend for her own gain - and throughout the series we see her wrecking that friendship over and over because, as Shay accuses her, she thinks she's the center of the universe. Shay hits every big milestone before Tally - Smoky, Pretty, Special - and it almost feels like prodding the limits of a close third POV, reminding us that there's isn't one single world's specialist teen girl. In the stereotypical version, Shay would be the scrappy rebel hero. Tally always needs pushes, and she's always screwing it up.

While it's obviously written for younger readers, the writing is effective. Like I said, Scott challenges himself to write the same POV three times with different levels of brain damage and pulls it off. He integrates made up slang in a way that doesn't feel too distracting (I really enjoy the way the princess sections in Pretties are written). In classic Scott fashion he brings back key ideas and phrases to hit you hard when it counts (informed consent, a special circumstance), and of course the whole final word of each book forming a circle is a fun little bonus. I'm glad this was written before the modern codifying of YA when it would be in first person.

The moral is obvious yeah but it's MG/YA and also props to Scott for predicting influencers in Extras. You also get the protagonist semi-aligning themselves with the antagonists' ideology at the end which is interesting, even if it again fits into a Western environmentalist assumption that humans can't live in peace with nature.

And finally, despite not being sporty at all, I still want a hoverboard.

[writingsbyzuzu]

Don’t Get the Blues

Sheriff!Ted Nivison x Gunslinger!Outlaw!Reader

(Just a quick note before we begin, this chapter isn’t very you and Ted focused, this is an exposition chapter of sorts to set up what is going to happen in later parts. It focuses on Ted and it focuses on you still, just not the two of you together. Sorry if this one is short, I did rush a little to get this one out for y’all to read. the next one will be better and longer, trust)

one - endless song

“Doll, are you sure about this?” Schlatt raises an eyebrow at you, finger pointed down on the table. “Once we do this, there is no damn return. We sink into the abyss, together, the lot of us.”

You suck in a breath, your lips pursing. “Yes, Jay, I’m sure. We have to do this. We just have to be smart about it.” You instinctively adjust the gun positioned at your waistline. Schlatt shakes his head.

Around the table sits Ludwig, Charlie, Hasan, and Kurtis. This is your home, shared between the six of you. Sure, there are eyebrows raised at the thought of a young lady sharing her home with five eligible young men. But not many. No one really batted many eyes at what six poor orphans did, considering not many cared about what those who lived on the outskirts of Red Oakland did. But at this moment, those six orphans planned on robbing a rich man. Well, five of them, that is.

Hasan lets out a groan. “For the love of God, we have been at discussion for an hour. Schlatt, you know as well as I do that they are starving out there, and we cannot sit by and do nothing. We simply do not get enough money from the shows to cover what the outskirters need. And those people out there, out in town, they have the coins we don’t and they do nothing. We’re going.”

The other men nod their heads. Schlatt thought for a moment, thinking of the sick children, of the starving in the camps a hundred feet from the cabin where they sit. “You’re right. I just do not-”, he sighed for a moment, making eye contact with you. “I don’t want you to do this just to spite Theodore.”

✩⭑✩

“But I cannot, I cannot go on simply watching you from afar like we are children again. I love you. Please. Please.” Ted looks at you, manic, his chest heaving, feeling like the world had suddenly been deprived of oxygen. His hand is outstretched. “T, I am going to ask you this once before I respond. Is it true you’re going to be sheriff?” you whispered, your eyes watering.

“Mr. Nivison? Look at him. Theodore! Are you listening?”

He snaps out of it, pushing the conversation to the back of his mind. It wasn’t important anymore. The governor stood in front of him, chuckling. “Son, you were lost in thought there. I was worried I had chosen the wrong young man for sheriff for a moment.”

Ted shakes his head. “No sir, I’m the right man for this job, I promise. Just had the briefest of distractions. Won’t happen again.” The governor lets out a hearty laugh, clapping Ted on his back. “I hope not, Theodore, you were highly recommended for this. Welcome to your first day, son.” The governor motions to someone to open the door of the jail. They do, and a young man in spectacles with a mustache enters. “Theodore Nivison, meet your new deputy and right hand man, Edward Burback. We moved him here from the rising Los Angeles. A bit larger than Red Oakland, which means this will be a cakewalk for him.”

Eddy sticks a hand out, and Ted shakes it. “I go by Eddy.” “Ted.” The governor gives a satisfied nod, patting them both on the back. “Well gentlemen, welcome to your new post. I’m sure we’ll be very satisfied with the two of you at the helm of the law,” the governor says, getting ready to take his exit. A man runs in, half dressed. The three men turn, looks of bewilderment crossing their faces. Ted stands up, rushing to help steady the stumbling man-Mr. Barker, the owner of the largest general store in Red Oakland. The man, panicked, takes a large, heaving breath, the sweat streaming down his face. “I’ve just been robbed.”

The governor gives one last abrupt nod. “Well gentlemen, I’ll leave you two to it.” He leaves, getting in his carriage.

✩⭑✩

“So describe what happened to me one more time, Mr. Barker,” Ted sighs, pushing his glasses up. “It’s as I told you boy, this young lady, she was on the side of the road injured, covered in mud, and as I got out of my carriage to assist her, these two young men held us at gunpoint, their faces were covered by their bandanas, they took the coins from my carriage, another comes out of the bushes to steal my clothes, threw me into my carriage, and then dragged the poor miss off, kicking and screaming. They took the poor girl, you must find her.” Theodore nods. “And you said it happened 3, 4 miles from town?” Eddy asks, scribbling things down in his notebook. Mr. Barker groans. “As I said before, yes.” Eddy continues to write, before closing his notebook and tucking it into his coat pocket. “Ted, we should go to the outskirts and ask questions, look around.”

Ted turns his head to Eddy, looking down for a moment, before stating “If we must, Deputy Burback.”

✩⭑✩

You rip the wig off your head, before bending down to the water bucket and scrubbing your face as clean of mud as you could, scooping up water to rinse your face. The boys move around you, tucking their bandanas into their pockets and cleaning their hands. The five of you enter the house, where Charlie sits. He looks at the five of you. “How did it go?”

“25 dollars. How much can that get us?” Hasan drops the bag onto the table, looking at Charlie expectantly. Charlie runs the numbers in his head. He was the “doctor” for the outskirters, often having to tend to the sick and weary of the camps, doing it for free. Even looked after animals too. The five of you just had to buy the medicine yourselves, unfortunately. “I could get quite a lot of bandages. Maybe a few vials of morphine, if we don’t need to spend it on anything else.” You shake your head. “There’ll be other carriages,” you mumble, pushing the bag to Charlie. “You just buy what you need and do not worry about it. Focus on the people outside who need us.”

Schlatt groans. “As much as I think Mr. Barker deserved to get robbed, and the other fancy, money grubbing fucks deserve it, maybe we should count our blessings and stick to one and dones. Hasan is building his reputation as a sharpshooter. We could travel. Do shows. Get the money honestly. We don’t need Theodore on our backs, sniffing us out.”

“We don’t do enough shows for that, Jay. We don’t make enough farming. We can’t afford more cattle. The people need us,” you grit your teeth. “But Theodore-“ You dismiss Schlatt with a wave.

“Ted-Theodore, isn’t important. He’s one of them. He turned his back on us. Fuck him. We are outskirters. We were raised by these people, damn it. And we are going to do right by them.”

✩⭑✩

“They aren’t going to talk to us, you know. The outskirters. They don’t trust us. Call us the townies.” Ted turns to Eddy, as their horses trot side by side. “You say that like you know from experience. Thought this was your first day.”

“I grew up there. Leonard Preacher Orphanage. I got adopted, age 15, by a townie banker. A lot of people live on the outskirts, and can't afford to go anywhere else. A lot of orphans ended up staying after…the orphanage burnt down.”

Eddy looks around at the makeshift shelters, the torn tents, the worn down cabins. He felt guilt. “And they don’t like us?” “Think we are the ones keeping them that way. They can’t afford to do anything and spend their lives in poverty, and they think we only uphold the law to those with the money... We’ll start with Charles Dalgleish. He’s the closest thing they have to a doctor from my understanding. Maybe he treated one of our gunslingers this morning or overheard something, he’s almost always home.” Ted slowed the horse in front of your cabin. His heart was thrumming in his chest so loud, he worried Eddy could somehow hear, his pulse so apparent to him in that moment. He was lying if he didn’t purposely choose your cabin first in the hopes you would be home, and in fear that perhaps, you were the young lady dragged away. He wasn’t even aware of standing there, frozen in time, until Eddy reached over him to knock.

Charlie calles out, “You can come right in.”

The men enter, and Charlie is bandaging a little boy’s elbow, wrapping it carefully in cloth before ushering him down from his perch on the table. He looks up, a bit surprised to see Ted and Eddy standing there. “Sheriff Nivison. And I’m sorry, you must be…?”

“Deputy Burback. You can call me Eddy, if you’d like.” Eddy extends his hand. Charlie shakes it, before bending down to address the young boy. “Next time, be more gentle, alright? Now go back to your teacher.” He shoos the boy out the door, shutting it gently.

It becomes apparent to Ted in the ten years since he was adopted that he never had stepped foot in this cabin. It was small, with two cots, two makeshift beds on the floor, and a wood stove. There was another room, where he imagined the last two beds were. He looks around at the log cabin, and imagines how life would have been. Sharing a home with the men he once considered brothers. Sharing a home, of course, with you. Maybe you would have married him then.

His thoughts are once again interrupted by the third time that day, with Charlie clearing his throat. “How can I help you gentlemen?” he asks, packing away his medical supplies in a makeshift cabinet. “Well Charles, Mr. Baker, the one who owns the large General on Main, he was robbed about two miles from here.”

“Robbed? Really?” Charlie tsks, scooping some water to rinse and scrub his hands. “We wanted to see if you know anything. Heard anything. Maybe someone came in injured, Mr. Baker managed to hit the foot of one of the assailants,” Eddy chimes in.

“No, no one other than that little boy has been by. I’ve been home all day.” Charlie smiles at the two of them. “And what about the others?” Ted asks. “How many people live here?” Eddy asks.

“Five men, myself included. I was here, sorting my things. Hasan and Schlatt have been in the back, practicing a sharpshooter act. Hasan is making a name for himself, earning some money at shows. Kurtis and Ludwig are tending to the garden. And the lady, she teaches. She’s been with the outskirt children all day. I believe the littles are learning their letters today.”

Eddy’s eyes furrow in surprise. “A lady, she lives here? With all five of you? Unmarried?” Charlie nods, “She sleeps in the room next to us, shares the bed with Hasan. We cannot afford separate beds. We cannot afford to live alone.” He then turns to look Ted in the eyes. “She'll, of course, marry one of the five of us one day, when she’s ready. It’s always been the six of us.”

Ted felt sick. He nodded at Charlie. “Thank you Charles. Perhaps we shall check with the others.” He and Eddy exit the cabin, and he shakes his head. “We should ask around different homes. Perhaps they will know something,” Ted says, as he walks past the side of the cabin, looking out beyond their gardens, peering out at the rows of shelters, tents, and cabins. And then…there you were. You were sitting in the clearing, surrounded by the children. And for the first time that day, he smiled. Ted saw you, and he smiled.

[thezeninclan]

home to her | nanami kento x reader

kento swallows hard, and when he meets your gaze from across the kotatsu you can see that he looks as though he desperately desires to say something, but is trying hard to force it down. your brows furrow, the heat rising to his face having nothing to do with the warmth of the heater, and your hand lays upon the gift he had pushed across the table towards you. it wasn’t your birthday, wasn’t your anniversary, so the gift had come as a great surprise, despite the practiced nonchalance kento had shown when he whisked it from his satchel and laid it upon the table.

“a gift?” you asked, cheeks flushed with happiness. 

it wasn’t unusual for kento to return home at random with gifts for you, a bouquet of fresh cut lilies, a brand new journal, a sweet smelling candle. but you could tell from the way he presented it that this was something different, something new.  

your chest felt heavy and full, your body so light that for a moment you feared you might simply fly away, if it wasn’t for the wrapped parcel keeping you tethered. nanami nodded tersely, watching as you fingered the navy ribbon as your hands worked at the wrapped paper. 

you startled as the box came into view, the familiar hinged style telling you at once it was jewelry. 

you bit the bottom of your lip, hands nearly shaking as you opened the jewelry box and came face to face with what lay inside. it was a hammered chain-linked necklace, thin and fine, the color silvery-gold, so bright that it nearly glittered in the soft lamp light of the shared living room. your fingertips paused on their exploratory journey across the metal, feeling the heat of his gaze on the top of your head, and you looked up at him. “it’s beautiful.” you breathed, in awe and delight. he looks away from you, a splatter of pink painted across his cheeks that made him look unbearably endearing. but still he said nothing, looking down at his feet and frowning deeply enough to accentuates the sunken lines on his cheeks. 

you frowned, pushing yourself across the tatami to sit at his side. he had given you a gift, surely this must be a pleasant occasion— so why did he look so pained? 

you folded your legs neatly beneath you and placed your hand gently against his firm thigh in a silent gesture of affirmation, finally making him lift his head. kento sighed, long and deep, before lifting an arm and wrapping it around your shoulders, squeezing you against his side. you felt so at ease, so at peace— with your arms around his waist, his warm body pressed against yours, a big hand hand coming to rest upon the top of your head so he could gently stroke at your hair. 

“it’s-” he begins and you turn to look up at him through those big bright eyes he loves so much. he gestures to himself, his long fingers pressing to his blue striped shirt. you wanted them pressing against you. “to me it means...” he trails off again. it’s unusual to see him so at a loss for words, so completely out of his depth, and it just makes you cling to him further. “if you put it on then you shouldn’t...well, what I mean is that you shouldn’t—” 

you realize in a breath what he’s trying to say, the way his fingers have risen to his chest and pulled the collar of his shirt just slightly apart so that you can see a triangle of his bare chest. from the moment you had set your eyes upon him you had noticed something a miss, something unusual— but you hadn’t been able to place it until this moment, until you had caught sight of his naked throat. the chain he usually wore was gone, disappeared from its usual place resting upon his chest to reappear at your fingers. in the time you had known him he had never been without the golden necklace. when he slept he wore nothing but a pair of soft sleep pants and the golden chain, when he bathed or swam at the heated pool at the gym he did not remove it. even when he worked, he wore the chain beneath the lapels of his dark blue long sleeve. you knew how much it meant to him, so to see him without it, to see him gift it to you.    

“I won’t take it off.” you said, interrupting him gently by placing a hand on his. 

you entwined your fingers with his, feeling the calluses and rough skin from so many years of hard work. his eyes were firm as they met yours, unwavering, and yet there was a softness there that made you continue. 

“It means the same thing to me.” you promised, hoping your eyes spoke the words you mouth couldn’t. you knew the weight of the gesture, knew what it meant to him to have gifted that collar to you. “I won’t take it off, kento.” he loved the way you said his name, like a prayer, like a song, whose words only you knew.

the chain felt cool upon your skin as he laid it around your throat, fingers tickling the back of your neck as he did up the clasp. it felt heavy, solid, the same comfort as a weighted blanket orr a warm cup of tea on an icy day. his fingers lingered, sliding down the curve of your spine to the small of your back, the heat of his skin making you shiver. a hand rose to your neck, resting over the golden chain, the other cupping his cheek. your thumb brushed across his bottom lip, the preamble to a kiss that made a frisson of warmth burst through your body. 

“I love you.” you whispered back, kissing kissing kissing him. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” he whispered, and you knew he meant it, the intensity of his voice, the closeness of his lips against yours, the way he cradled your body against him, like you were something precious, something cherished.

also posted on ao3

[jeoncasino]

Prospects | teaser |

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, my characters are flawed don’t expect them to be perfect.

Warnings: jealousy.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

“So, what are we having today, Mr. Jeon? Will you get me a cookie again?” you teased, looking up at him from behind the counter with those captivating eyes Jeongguk couldn’t get enough of lately.

He smiled sheepishly. “You know you owe me eight bucks, right?”

You gasped. “Hello? You literally beg me to take your cookies!” Pointing a finger at him, you both laughed. Just as he was about to defend himself, a stern voice interrupted.

“Y/n, I can take over if you’d like. Go on your break now.” Your shift manager, Namjoon, appeared beside you, pushing you aside with his hip in a friendly manner, trying to lighten his previous tone. After apologizing to Jeongguk and saying it was your duty to follow your manager’s orders, you left.

Jeongguk was immediately irritated. This wasn’t the first time Namjoon had come between you two, always trying to distract you and take you away from him whenever he had the chance. It was obvious that the man you called your best friend didn’t plan on staying friends forever, and the only one who couldn’t see it was you. The funny part? Jeongguk didn’t know why that bothered him most.

Both men, irritated by each other’s presence, exchanged heavy, intense gazes. Namjoon spoke first. “Your order?”

Jeongguk leaned over the counter, gripping the edges so hard his knuckles turned white. “Pull this move one more time, and I’ll get you fired,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Mr. Jeon,” Namjoon mimicked, “I’m just trying to take your order.”

Jeongguk fumed. “Cut the act, Namjoon. You know you hate that she likes me, even after you’ve tried to throw dirt on me just to get a chance,” Jeongguk stepped back. “Which, by the way, is nonexistent.”

And just like that, Jeongguk broke the moment and walked out of the café.

Author: what do we think what do we thinkkk, yall liked it yall hated it lmkk. if any of you are interested in joining the taglist for these series also lmk!!

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

[fandomnsfw]

Because He Listens - Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Prompt: I tried my best with this one. It isn't as long as some of my others but I wrote what felt right at the time. love triangles are hard enough pentagons much harder.

Warnings: None just swearing really.

Beta'd by my lovely long time friend, beta and fellow writer @lets-imagine-fanfics

ENJOY!!

*********

You started your day like every other day.  

Wake up brush your teeth, take a shower, get dressed, makeup, hair, then out the door. However, this morning you were bombarded with Damon Salvatore laying on your bed causally when you came out with a towel on your body, and one wrapped around your hair. You gave him a silent glare as you picked out your clothes in silence.  

Once you’d gotten what you needed out of your closet, you spun around to face him when it became obvious that he wasn’t going away, no matter how much you ignored his presence. You gave him a fake sweet smile that did nothing but amuse the older man. 

“How can I help you, Damon?” You asked with a sickeningly sweet tone. 

“Have you thought about what I said last night?” He responded, his tone turning serious.  

“Why are you doing this Damon? You’ve never cared if I was at the centre of danger before!” You shouted as you walked through your front door after fighting against some witch who came for a doppelganger or more specifically doppelganger blood. 

“Because I care okay! Oh yes, I know that’s a shocking concept but I. CARE.” He punctuated with his usual level of sarcasm and sass.  

“About Elena yes. Me? Never.” You snarked back with an eye roll.  

“Well, I care about you, okay?” He sighed seriously, his usually sarcastic demeanour dropping.   

“Why?” You snapped making him close his eyes as if exasperated by this entire situation. 

“Because-” He seemed to stop, wondering whether his reason was worth stating but you crossed your arms in a way that said you wouldn’t drop this, so he stared down at you as he walked closer.  

“Because...I love you.” He muttered quietly.  

“Tell me your joking?” You whispered with wide eyes.  

“Oh yeah, this seems like the type of prank I’m fond of, doesn’t it?” He growled in annoyance.  

“What is it with you brothers!?” You screamed as you lightly pushed Damon away.  

“So, I guess Stefan got here first.” He grumbled like a pouting child.  

“What is there to think about, Damon?” You sighed as you stepped away from him, your eyes dropping to the floor as you contemplated how to handle this.  

You’d never really been told ‘I love you’ by anyone who seriously meant it and now you had Stefan, who had told you before the fight; and Damon, who had told you after the fight. Oh, and let's not forget the good Mikaelson brothers who seemed to have taken an interest too. How the hell were you supposed to deal with this?  

“Well, do you like either of us?” Damon tried with an eye roll to show his frustration.  

“Between the Salvatore brothers, the Mikaelson brothers and a witch trying to kill me I haven’t exactly thought about it!” You shouted as you disappeared into the bathroom to change.  

You slid on your undies, bra and jeans before realising you hadn’t grabbed your top as you were too busy thinking about how your life was turning out. You knew Klaus had a thing for Caroline as well, so you never really took him seriously until last night while fighting this witch, he jumped in front of a giant flaming ball to save you all the while Elijah hid you behind him.  

“I’m not doing this. I’m not Elena and I don’t enjoy being stuck in a love triangle...or a pentagon in this case.” You snapped through the door before wrapping the towel around your bra-covered torso and making your way out of the bathroom to grab your top.  

You grabbed the article of clothing ignoring Damon’s eyes on you before rushing back to the bathroom. Once you’d tucked your plain black V-neck t-shirt into your high waisted jeans you exited the bathroom to Damon who was sitting on the end of your bed staring at the floor.  

“If you can’t decide then I guess we’ll do it for you.” Damon hissed before speeding out of your room and your apartment before you could even ask what he meant. 

You stood there with a frown on your face as you pulled out a pair of socks and started putting them on but once again you were interrupted by a knock on your door. You finished putting your socks on and walked out of your bedroom to answer the apartment door.  

You stared at the British vampire with narrowed eyes as she looked at you in confusion, her eyebrow raised as if silently asking what was wrong.  

“You’re not here to profess your undying love for me too, are you Bex?” You whispered suspiciously.  

“No, definitely not love.” Rebekah snorted as she pushed her way into the apartment without another word. 

“So Damon told you?” Rebekah chuckled as she flopped down onto your couch.  

“Yeah, and Stefan. All the while your biggest brother protected me from a witch and your other brother took a fireball for me. I feel like I’m in the cheesiest rom-com ever to exist. I have my own Harem.” You sighed dramatically as you flopped down next to her, sinking into the couch as if that would protect you from this entire situation.  

“Did you get Bonnie to cast a spell?” She whispered jokingly.  

“In what world is this something I would want?” You asked seriously making Rebekah shrug in response. 

“To break 4 people's hearts all in one go!” You huffed angrily making her smile sympathetically.  

“So...you don’t like any of them?” Rebekah asked with a raised brow.  

“I didn’t say that! But I’m not gonna choose one so the others can watch as I have a happy ending with the one I do like!” You snapped as you jumped up from the couch.  

“Well, it's better than letting yourself be unhappy just to save these idiots. They all chose to pursue you, that was their choice. Forget about them and do what makes you happy.” She responded with a kind smile on her face.  

“Everyone is gonna be unhappy with my choice.” You muttered sadly, your eyes casting down to the floor the fear of your friends hating you was eating away at you.  

“So? Why does it matter? Do something for you.” She stated calmly as she stood from the couch.  

“Is it really that simple though?” You asked uneasily, your heart pounding a little at the thought of finally pursuing the one person you’d been head over heels for, for months.  

“Yeah, it’s really that simple.” She stated as she pulled you into a hug.  

You spend the rest of the day with Rebekah, eating waffles and drinking coffee while you watch bad tv. You didn’t know what you’d do without her in your corner to back you up. At least if your friends abandoned you, you’d always have Rebekah.  

It was now 4pm and Rebekah was about to leave but before she was out of the door one of her brothers texted her. The text had Rebekah staring at her phone with wide eyes before glancing up at you with a pained look on her face. You frowned as she passed you the phone but once you looked at the words you couldn’t help the scream of frustration that came out of your mouth. 

Kol - Why are our dear brothers having dinner with the Salvatores’? 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” You screamed making Rebekah wince at the volume. 

“I’ll drive you.” was all Rebekah said as she took out her car keys and started to head out of the apartment. 

You slid your boots on, running after her with an angry frown on your face. You couldn’t believe these idiots! What were you, some prize to be won! You glanced at Rebekah who looked rather angry herself, but you knew it was because she, as a woman who fought for woman’s rights back in the twenties, thought this whole thing was barbaric. 

She sped to her house which wasn’t far her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as she pulled up to the Mikaelson mansion. She got out of the car, followed by you as you both stormed into the house.  

You’re glad you had backup because this wasn’t something you wanted to deal with at all, let alone by yourself. 

She flung the door open to the dining room rather dramatically. If it was any other day, you’d probably have laughed at her antics but right now all you could see was red. You stared at the four men who were casually eating dinner and sipping glasses of blood. 

“What the hell do you wankers think you’re doing!?” Rebekah screeched, her arms crossing over her chest. 

“That is not your concern, Rebekah. If you could please leave that would be much appreciated.” Elijah stated politely, making you raise a brow at him. 

“It’s definitely my business don’t you think, oh noble one.” You snapped sarcastically as you mirrored Rebekah’s stance. 

“I would like to point out I didn’t put this dinner together.” Klaus chuckled as he glanced at Damon and his own brother, snitching on them quite happily.  

“Seriously, Elijah? What happened to be a feminist? I guess we can’t just forget you were from a Viking era! Fucking caveman.” You snarled making Elijah look down at the floor, shame taking over his expression.  

“What did you think was going to come from this?” You asked seriously.  

“We were trying to find a fair way we could all throw our hat in the ring,” Stefan muttered quietly his face covered in shame just like Elijah’s. 

“THERE IS NO FUCKING RING! KEEP YOUR FUCKING HATS ASSHOLES!” You snapped.  

“That’s exactly what Klaus said you’d say.” Damon scoffed as he glanced over at the hybrid.  

“That’s because he listens to me!” You snapped angrily making everyone's eyes snap to Klaus who looked rather proud of himself.  

“Him? Seriously!” Damon shouted as he jumped up from his seat at the table. 

“I am so not getting into this right now.” You sighed as your caught Klaus’s eyes staring at you curiously, but he kept quiet. 

“He’s a fucking monster!” Damon growled angrily. 

“She only said he listened Damon. Calm down.” Stefan sighed softly. 

“She’s obviously not going to pick one of you nutters. What do ya say, darling?” You heard a mischievous voice chuckled behind you and Rebekah.  

“You’re so not funny Kol.” You huffed as you pushed him away from you with a small laugh.  

“Well, it’s obviously going to be one of the noble ones.” Kol snorted as he pointed to Stefan and Elijah. 

“Ya know what! I’m sick of you ancient bastards assuming you have all the answers, okay, so here we have it!” You shouted as you stormed over to Klaus’s chair and stood behind it.  

“SEE!” Damon screamed as he got into a position like he was about to fight anyone who disagreed. 

“SHUT UP! Do you even know why I’m picking him? Hmm or do you only care if I picked you? Hmm.” You snarled as you started towards Damon.  

“That man over there was abused and betrayed his entire life! Yes, he did some shit but so have ALL of you, so have I. He gifted me things-”  

“I gifted you things!” Damon shouted, interrupting you.  

“Yes, because I seem like a diamond and Prada kind of girl, don’t I!?” You snapped making his eyes widen. 

“What did he gift you? Princess dresses and horses?” Damon snapped right back at you.  

“No! He bought me a stuffed wolf, drew a picture of me, he gave me a hand-carved figurine of my favourite tv character and last, but definitely not least, he took my dead mother’s coat to be mended by the best he could find so it would look brand new! But gifts aren't everything Damon! He also listened to me talk for hours about things I like, even though he has no idea what I’m talking about half the time. He drops off coffee and food for me when I’m so busy with college work, I don’t eat or drink. He even brought me a full 2 weeks' worth of grocery shopping with all the things I would usually get. He never once touched me or came into my house without me saying so. The way he looks at me as he draws me doing mundane things, makes me feel so seen and cared for. I am very much in love with him and if you don’t fucking like it, there's the door!” You screamed as Klaus glanced at you in absolute disbelief.  

“You see that look right there?” You exclaimed as you looked at him from where you were originally screaming at Damon.  

“He’s shocked I chose him. You lot think you have the right to put your hat in the ring but he’s just happy to be around me and before anyone says anything else. It’s been him long before you lot made your feelings for me known.” You chuckled softly as you gave Klaus the sweetest smile you could muster which he returned rather shyly.  

“I think it’s time we leave, brother,” Stefan stated as Elijah stared between you and his brother.  

“I did not realise you cared for her so much Niklaus. I am sorry to have gotten in the way of that dear brother.” Elijah stated seriously his tone apologetic.  

“Congrats on doing what you wanted, Y/N. Can’t wait to be sister in laws!” Rebekah chuckled as she ran out of the room dragging Kol with her.  

Once you were alone with Klaus you stared at him from the other side of the dining room table with a soft nervous smile. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he stood up and stride over to you. You barely had a chance to know what was happening but when he took you into his arms holding you like this wasn’t real and it would vanish if he blinked too hard.  

“I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson.” You whispered into his ear softly. 

He pulled away to look down at you as he cupped the back of your head. His ocean blue eyes staring down at you in amazement. He opened his mouth a few times but for the first time in 1000 years, his words seemed to be failing him.  

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N.” He whispered as his eyes flickered to your lips.  

“Kiss me, Niklaus.” You whispered, clutching his Henley like it was the only thing grounding you.  

He leant down, his plush lips pressing against yours so carefully it made your heart pound against your chest as if looking for an escape. His lips were soft and gentle as he kissed you, holding onto you as if you’d disappear at any second.  

Once he pulled away you wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in your chest which he returned by holding you as close as he could.  

“T-Thank you for loving me.” He whispered into your hair before placing a kiss there.  

“I always will. Speaking of we should probably talk about me changing.” You stated softly making him frown.  

“I don’t see why you need to change. You look fine the way you are now.” He stated in confusion which had you giggling.  

“I meant into a vampire. I don’t wanna be old and wrinkly while you still look hotter than hell itself.” You chuckled and he pulled away from you his eyes widening.  

“You’d become a vampire for me?” He asked as if he couldn’t believe it.  

“Of course, I would. I’m waiting till I turn 21 though.” You chuckled making him smile down at you with a loving smile.  

“Yes, love.” He laughed as you pulled him back in for another hug.  

This was the man you loved, no matter what. 

[brunchable]

𝐌𝐫. 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞: Stucky x F!Reader

Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader, Steve Rogers x f!reader | Daughter of Thaddeus Ross (Red Hulk) Words: 5.4K Themes: Forbidden Reader, Love Triangle, M for Mature, 18+ , Post-Endgame, AGE GAP (24y/o reader). Summary: Bucky Barnes expected another typical therapy session, but the moment he meets Y/N, a sharp and unflinching therapist who doesn’t back down, everything changes. Used to keeping people at arm’s length, Bucky finds himself intrigued by her resilience and the way she sees right through his walls. A/N: I am also obsessed with Bucky ok? I can't leave him out. I will not use "chapter" for now because IDEK how long this will be. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Ciao.

Bucky entered the therapist’s office, expecting the usual routine with Dr. Raynor. But when he saw a younger woman sitting on the couch, legs crossed, glasses perched on her nose, he froze. She was scribbling in a notebook, completely absorbed in whatever she was writing. His eyes swept over her—pencil skirt, white blouse with the top two buttons undone. Definitely not Raynor.

Raynor was a pain in the ass enough, but now they're throwing this at me? Bucky thought, his jaw tightening as he watched her quietly scribble in her notebook. He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of test or another attempt to “catch him off guard.” His whole life had been one test after another, and this—this felt like just another trick up their sleeve.

Great, he thought bitterly, as if I haven’t been poked and prodded enough. Now I’m supposed to open up to someone who probably just finished med school.

The calm way she sat there, so sure of herself, made him itch with irritation. He couldn’t figure her out, and he hated that. Was she here to push him harder than Raynor? Or was this just another bureaucratic move to switch things up, like changing therapists would suddenly crack him open? 

What’s next? A therapy dog? His mind was racing, constantly searching for the next hit, the next blow. He felt like they were always trying to break him down bit by bit, like he was still their weapon. 

But this? This is just insulting. He didn’t know what to make of her, or what she could possibly do for him, but his instincts were already screaming to keep his guard up, to watch her carefully. There was always something more to these situations. Always a catch.

"Did they lose my file or something?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You don’t look old enough to be out of med school, let alone help me with… this." His words came out dripping with sarcasm, testing her right from the start.

Y/N didn’t look up immediately, taking her time as she finished writing something in her notebook. When she finally met his gaze, she adjusted her glasses slightly, then pointed to the couch with her eyes.

"I assure you, Sergeant Barnes, you’re in the right place," she said, her voice calm and even. "If you’d like to sit down, we can get started."

Bucky paused, the smirk still playing on his lips. He scanned the room, as if making sure he hadn’t walked into the wrong office, then sauntered toward the couch opposite her. He dropped down, stretching out his legs lazily, crossing his arms over his chest, still eyeing her with playful suspicion.

"Right place, huh? Are you sure about that?" He chuckled. "Didn’t realize they sent kids to do the hard jobs these days."

"Lucky for you, I’m not a kid. But if you’re hoping for someone older, I’m sure you can take it up with the front desk. Or we could just get started, your call."

Bucky’s smirk widened slightly, impressed by the way she shot back at him. He leaned back on the couch, arms crossed. "Alright then, since you’re apparently the expert. What’s the plan here? Gonna wave a magic wand, make all my problems go away?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, meeting his sarcasm head-on. "No magic wand. Just work. But something tells me you’re not afraid of a little hard work, are you?"

That caught him off guard. He was used to deflecting with humor, but she wasn’t backing down. In fact, she seemed perfectly comfortable in this verbal sparring match.

"Hard work, huh?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone softening but still sarcastic. "And here I thought you were here to hand me a quick fix."

Y/N smiled ever so slightly, just enough to show she wasn’t intimidated. "I don’t do quick fixes. That’s for amateurs."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, genuinely impressed despite himself. He had expected someone more nervous, someone he could easily rattle. But this woman? She wasn’t having any of it.

"Alright, doc," he said, nodding slightly, acknowledging her stance. "You’ve got my attention. What’s next?"

Y/N adjusted her glasses, flipping a page in her notebook. "Next? We talk about your progress. Or, we can sit here in silence while you continue throwing sarcastic remarks at me. I’m good with either option."

"You think I’m just gonna spill my guts? It doesn’t work like that."

"I didn’t expect it to.”

"I’m fine with silence.”

Bucky muttered, his eyes flicking to the window as if contemplating an escape. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about himself. Especially not with someone like her—someone so young and… focused.

Leaning forward slightly, his playful look faded into something darker—a cold, calculating stare. His blue eyes locked onto hers, hard and unblinking, as he gave her the same menacing look that had unnerved countless soldiers and enemies. It was the stare that said he wasn’t someone to mess with.

Most people would have flinched by now, maybe glanced away or shown some kind of discomfort. But Y/N didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She met his icy stare head-on, calm and unwavering.

Seconds ticked by then into minutes. Bucky’s gaze bore into hers, daring her to crack under the pressure. But she didn’t blink. Didn’t shift in her seat. She held his stare, unshaken.

As Bucky realized she wasn’t going to back down. He clenched his jaw tighter, leaning in even more, his menacing stare intensifying. And still—nothing. Y/N just stared back at him. After what felt like an eternity, Bucky scoffed, the sound low and begrudgingly amused. He leaned back into the couch, letting out a breath.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, clearly impressed. His smirk returned, but this time, it was less mocking and more intrigued. "You didn’t even blink."

"I’ve seen worse," she shrugged.

"Most people can’t handle the stare," he said, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. Bucky stared at her for a moment longer, still processing that she hadn’t buckled under his intimidation. 

"I’m not most people," Y/N replied, her gaze still locked on his.

"You’re not, huh?” Bucky let out another short scoff, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them gradually easing. Bucky leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if contemplating his next move.

"Alright," he finally muttered, his voice quieter now, the edge of defiance softening. "Let’s get started."

× × × ×

Bucky walked down the street, hands deep in his pockets, his mind still stuck on the therapy session with Y/N. He couldn't shake the image of her holding her ground against his menacing stare. Most people crumbled under that.

He was impressed. Hell, maybe even a little thrown off by it.

He reached a small café, the door chimed as he walked in. He’d been coming here for weeks, liking how quiet it was. Bucky slid into a booth in the corner, the furthest one from the entrance, his usual spot. The place was small, quiet—barely anyone noticed him here. That was what he liked. No eyes following him. No whispers.

As he sat down, he glanced at the menu out of habit, though he already knew what he wanted. He tapped his fingers against the table, feeling the hum of anxiety still coursing through him. His thoughts wandered back to Y/N’s. Her refusal to let him dictate the session. It had been a long time since someone had stood their ground with him.

“Same as usual?” the waitress asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Same.”

The door chimed again, and out of reflex, Bucky glanced up. His eyes landed on her—Y/N. But she was different now. She was dressed in a casual sweater and jeans, her hair down, and the serious, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. She looked relaxed. For a moment, Bucky frowned. Was this the same woman from earlier?

She hadn’t noticed him yet, busy ordering her coffee at the counter. As she turned, their eyes met, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her gaze. Then she smiled. 

It wasn’t a polite, professional smile like the one she had in the office—it was real, warm. Bucky had to admit, she was even more beautiful when she smiled like that. She made her way over to him, her expression soft and light, a stark contrast to how she’d been before.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she greeted with an amused smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either. You got a twin or something?” Bucky leaned back, trying to hide the fact that her smile had thrown him. He gave her a skeptical look, still trying to wrap his mind around the shift in her demeanor.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Nope. Just me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You sure? Because you’re not exactly giving off the same ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe as you did earlier.”

“I save that for the office.” She laughed lightly, the sound catching him off guard again.

Bucky blinked, still half-convinced she had to be a different person. “You’re… different outside of work.”

Y/N smiled again, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice how that smile completely transformed her. The serious, no-nonsense therapist was gone. 

“Therapist mode can be intense,” she said, settling into the seat across from him. “Gotta decompress too, you know.”

“Decompress, huh?” Bucky muttered, still eyeing her. “I wasn’t sure you even knew how to.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said with a grin. “You think I’m a robot in the office?”

“Was starting to wonder. . .”

She laughed again, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. “Nope. Just human.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment, taking in how much more approachable she seemed now. The difference between the Y/N sitting across from him now and the one who had held her ground in the office was stark. He hadn’t expected to see her like this—relaxed, smiling, laughing. It was almost disarming.

“You’re hard to figure out,” he said, still trying to process the shift.

She shrugged lightly. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the café filling the space. Bucky glanced at her again, her soft smile lingering in his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but seeing her like this, outside of the serious office atmosphere, made him feel… at ease.

Eventually, Y/N glanced at her watch. “I should get going. Got other plans.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”

She stood, grabbing her cup. She paused for a moment, then gave him one last smile—a sweet one, the kind that lit up her whole face, making her seem even more different than the woman who had stared him down earlier.

“See you at the next session?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, half-joking, "Hm, I don’t know."

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it deepened, her eyes holding him with a quiet confidence. "I will see you, Sergeant Barnes," she said, her voice more insistent this time, not leaving room for doubt.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, shaking his head slightly, "What’s the point of asking then?”

As she walked out of the café, Bucky leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a small smile. She had completely thrown him. Her smile, her relaxed demeanor—it was all so different from what he’d expected. For a moment, he wondered if she really did have a twin. But then again, maybe she was just someone with more layers than he’d first realized.

And he found himself eager to know more.

× × × ×

Steve Rogers wasn’t sure how he had gotten talked into this. Well, actually, he knew exactly how—Sam Wilson had dragged him along to this party, claiming Steve needed to “loosen up” and enjoy life more. But standing in the middle of a loud, flashing room with music pounding in his ears, Steve wondered if he should have pushed harder to stay home.

"Come on, Cap," Sam had said with a mischievous grin as they walked through the entrance earlier. "You’ve been in retirement long enough. Time to see what the world’s been up to while you were busy saving it."

Steve stood near the bar now, trying to blend in, his eyes scanning the room. People were dancing wildly, laughing, and having fun in the swirling haze of strobe lights. It was a far cry from the kinds of parties he had attended back in the 1940s—those had been calm, slow, and filled with small talk and jazz music. 

This? This was chaos.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. He had barely touched his drink when Sam elbowed him from the side, laughing. “You look like you’re plotting an escape route. Relax, Cap. Have fun.”

Before Steve could respond, Sam was swept into the crowd by some friends, leaving Steve standing alone by the bar. Even in the anonymity of the darkened room, Steve still attracted attention. His broad shoulders, strong jawline, and quietly confident presence drew glances from several women who were passing by. The strobe lights occasionally highlighted his features, and more than a few curious eyes lingered on him as he stood by the bar.

“Hey there,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice loud to be heard over the music. “You look like you’re way too good-looking to be standing here alone.”

Steve smiled politely, keeping his distance. “Just here with some friends,” he said, not giving much away.

She stepped a little closer, her eyes lingering on him. “Well, maybe I could keep you company?”

Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Just enjoying the night.”

She looked a little surprised but shrugged it off with a casual smile. “Your loss,” she said with a wink, before disappearing back into the crowd.

Steve let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing as she left. He wasn’t here for that kind of attention, though it seemed inevitable. He glanced around, hoping to spot Sam or Bucky, but before he could move, another woman approached.

He was just about to step away from the bar when another woman, a petite brunette with a mischievous smile, appeared beside him. 

“I’ve seen you reject at least ten girls in the last ten minutes,” she said, her voice teasing. “Either you’ve got impossibly high standards or you’re just too shy to admit you’re having fun.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Neither, really. Just here with some friends. Trying to keep a low profile.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “A guy like you, keeping a low profile? Good luck with that.”

Steve smiled, nodding toward the crowd. “Seems like it’s working so far.”

The woman laughed, but before she could say more, the crowd surged again, and someone bumped into Steve, almost spilling his drink. 

“Sorry about that,” a voice said, half-shouting over the music.

Steve turned and caught a glimpse of another woman, this one different from the others. She was barely recognizable in the strobe lights, her features blurred by the darkness, but something about the way she carried herself caught his attention. She didn’t linger too long on him, and didn't try too hard. Her smile was brief but real.

“No problem,” Steve replied, raising his voice to be heard over the music. 

“Not your scene?” she asked, leaning a little closer to be heard.

“Not exactly,” Steve admitted, putting a finger in to cover one ear.

She laughed lightly, stepping closer, her eyes catching the light for a brief second. “Same. My friend dragged me here. I’m pretty sure she thinks I need to ‘loosen up’.”

“Guess we’re in the same boat,” Steve said, feeling a bit more at ease. She had a warmth in her voice, even amidst the chaos.

Before either of them could say more, a group of partygoers surged by, and one of them grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. She was caught off guard, stumbling a bit before turning back toward Steve, her hand still caught in the wave.

“Come on!” she shouted over the music, her face lit up with a playful grin.

“No—I don’t think—”

Steve hesitated. He wasn’t much of a dancer—especially not in a place like this—but before he could protest, Y/N grabbed his hand, tugging him into the crowd. The pulsing rhythm of the music pounded in his chest as they were swept into the moving mass of people. The lights flashed wildly, and before Steve knew it, he was dancing, caught up in the infectious energy of the room.

Y/N laughed as they moved, her hand still in his, and Steve found himself smiling despite the overwhelming atmosphere. The strobe lights flickered, casting everything in flashes of light and shadow, and for a moment, it was easy to forget who he was, to forget the weight he usually carried.

Steve didn’t have time to react before he found himself right behind her, the sea of people pushing them closer together. The music pounded through the room, the heavy bass vibrating under their feet. Steve felt her back press against his chest, her body swaying in time with the beat.

The lights flashed, casting her in and out of shadow, but Steve was caught in the moment. She moved to the music effortlessly, her hips swinging in rhythm, her back brushing against him with every movement. He felt the warmth of her body through his shirt, the closeness sparking something inside him he hadn’t expected.

The lyrics of the song echoed through the room: “I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off, take off all your makeup, baby, take it off. . . I just wanna watch you when you take it off, take off all your clothes and watch you take them off.”

Y/N's body moved in perfect sync with the music, and Steve, despite his hesitation, found himself falling into the rhythm. Her hips pressed against him, swaying seductively in time with the beat. He hesitated for a moment before resting his hands lightly on her hips, unsure but drawn in by the intensity of the moment.

The crowd pushed them even closer together, and Steve’s grip on her hips tightened instinctively. She didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned into him, moving her body against his, teasing, playful, completely in tune with the energy of the music. Her head tilted slightly, her hair brushing against his neck, and Steve felt his pulse quicken.

She bit her lower lip, glancing back at him through the lights, a playful spark in her eyes. Steve’s breath caught, his hands sliding up slightly from her waist as their bodies continued to move together. The energy between them was electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before. The music drowned out everything but the pounding of his heart and the feel of her body so close to his.

Suddenly, the crowd pushed them even closer, and in the heat of the moment, Y/N turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. It was a brief touch, but it sent a shock through him. His grip tightened on her hips, and before either of them could think, their movements slowed, the tension between them peaking.

“I just can't wait to see it all I'm so turned on”

Y/N turned her head fully, her lips finding his in a fast, unexpected kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft. They parted-in surprise, she thought and then she slipped her tongue inside. It had been forever since she'd done this, never had she done this, but it came to her like breathing. It was electric, quick, but charged with the energy of the moment. 

Steve’s world narrowed to just the two of them—the music, the lights, the crowd—all vanished as her lips met his. He stopped her, just for a moment, then flipped it, deepening the kiss with a flick of his tongue and a firm grip on her hip. Now it was him kissing her, her soft sigh filling the space between them. He responded with heat, his desire matching the unexpected pleasure he found in her.

The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left both of them breathless. Y/N pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise, like she hadn’t expected it either. They were still close, her breath mingling with his as they caught their bearings.

Before either of them could speak, Y/N's friends found her and pulled her with them unaware of Steve, and she was swept away, disappearing into the throng of dancers. Steve stood there, frozen for a second, his heart still racing from the kiss, his hands still tingling from where he’d touched her.

He blinked, trying to steady himself, but she was already gone, lost in the mass of people. The music still pounded around him, the lights still flashed, but all Steve could focus on was the ghost of her lips on his and the wild, unexpected energy of the night.

Steve shook his head, still trying to process what had just happened. The kiss, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his—it was all too new, too different. The way young people dance these days, he thought, he can’t believe he allowed himself to be dragged like that. It was nothing like what he was used to. He exhaled slowly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts. Pushing through the crowd, he scanned the room for Sam. He was going to get an earful for this.

Steve spotted Sam by the bar, laughing with a couple of friends, and beside him was Bucky, nursing a drink and quietly observing the room. Steve made his way over, still feeling the lingering heat of the moment and trying his best to shake it off.

Sam noticed him approaching and immediately grinned, raising his drink in greeting. “There he is! Our man of the hour!” Sam shouted over the music, his voice laced with amusement.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his expression more reserved but no less curious.

“I don’t know about that,” Steve rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the slight flush still creeping up his neck. 

Sam’s grin widened as he leaned in closer. “Come on, Cap, you’ve got that look on your face. What happened?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell them. But Sam already knew him too well, and Bucky… well, there was no escaping his sharp gaze either.

“Nothing,” Steve said with a shrug, hoping to play it off.

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. 

“Nothing, huh?” He took a sip of his drink, but the teasing gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Didn’t look like ‘nothing’ when I saw you on the dance floor with… what’s her name?”

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, “You saw that?”

Sam burst out laughing, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “Oh, I saw it. The whole room probably saw it! You were practically glued to her!”

Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It wasn’t like that.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Oh, really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were having a little too much fun.”

Steve shot him a glare, but the way Sam wiggled his eyebrows made it impossible to stay serious. 

Bucky, still quiet, finally smirked. “You’re not exactly blending into the background there, punk.”

“It just… happened, alright?” Steve admitted, his voice trailing off as he tried to explain. “We were dancing, and the crowd kept pushing us together. And then…”

“And then you kissed her!” Sam finished for him, laughing again. “Oh man, Cap, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me! It just happened—like in the heat of the moment.”

“Yeah, because ‘heat of the moment’ sounds nothing like you.” Bucky chuckled, finally downing his alcohol.

Steve shot him a look, “Who's side are you on?”

“The ‘heat of the moment’? You mean to tell me you got caught up in the lights and music and had your little dance-floor moment? That’s priceless!” Sam was practically doubled over with laughter now.

“It wasn’t like that. I didn’t even know her.” Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile despite the teasing. 

Sam straightened up, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Doesn’t matter, man. That’s what makes it even better! You don’t know her, and you still ended up in some steamy dance-floor kiss? That’s wild for you.”

Steve groaned again, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniable.

“Well, I’ll say this,” Sam said, leaning in closer with a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises, Cap. I thought you’d be sitting in a corner all night, but instead, you’re out here stealing kisses in the middle of a crowd.”

“Okay, fine. It was… unexpected. But I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

Sam raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. “Unexpected, huh? Is that what we’re calling it when you’re practically glued to someone in the middle of a party? I mean, the way you two were moving—if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were auditioning for a music video.”

Steve sighed, but a part of him couldn’t help but feel amused at the whole situation. He never expected to get caught up in something like that. 

“I didn’t even get her name,” he said, almost to himself.

Bucky tilted his head. “Classic.”

Sam’s grin softened into a knowing smile. “Well, maybe that’s the universe telling you it’s time to loosen up a little. Enjoy the ride.”

Steve smirked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

Sam clapped him on the back again. “Look, Cap, you’ve spent your whole life saving the world. You deserve to have moments like that. Maybe even more than most people.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. The memory of her lips on his, the way their bodies had moved together—it wasn’t something he was likely to forget anytime soon.

Sam raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Captain America, finally letting loose.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” Steve chuckled and clinked his glass against Sam and Bucky's.

“You’re doing just fine, Cap,” Sam said with a wink. “Just fine.”

+ + + +

Y/N’s heels clicked against the smooth marble floors of the mansion’s foyer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The security system beeped, and she casually entered the code, the familiar beep fading into silence. The house was large, quiet, and pristine—almost too quiet after the chaos of the party.

She kicked off her heels, phone pressed to her ear as she continued her animated conversation with her best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was insane,” Y/N laughed, still buzzing from the energy of the night. “I don’t even know how I ended up on the dance floor, but there I was, dancing like I had no care in the world. And, oh my god, there was this guy...”

She paused, biting her lip at the memory of the mysterious man she’d danced with. The lights had made it impossible to see him clearly, but the way he moved, how his hands had felt on her hips—it sent a thrill through her just thinking about it.

“I didn’t catch his name,” she continued, flopping onto the plush couch in the living room. “But we were so close, and when we kissed... girl, I don’t even know what came over me.”

Her friend gasped on the other end of the line, clearly invested in every word. “Wait, you kissed him? Who are you right now?”

“I don’t know!” Y/N laughed again—almost squealing, “It was one of those wild party moments, you know? The music was loud, people were everywhere, and then—boom—his lips were on mine.”

“Omg, didn’t you get his number?”

“No.” She frowned then she smiled to herself, enjoying the carefree thrill of the memory. “Honestly, I thought I’d regret it, but no. Imagine that? My dad would kill me.”

As she continued recounting the night, a slight rustling from the other side of the room made her pause. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she realized she wasn’t alone. In the doorway stood Thaddeus Ross, her father, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

He cleared his throat loudly, the sound cutting through the excited chatter still flowing from her phone. Y/N froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized she’d been caught mid-party recap in her usually reserved father’s presence.

Her friend’s voice buzzed in her ear, still going on about the party, but Y/N quickly pulled the phone away, muttering, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up. The excitement drained from her face, replaced by a nervous smile.

“Dad,” Y/N greeted, forcing a casual smile. “Didn’t know you’d be home.”

“Apparently, you didn’t. Sounded like quite the party.” Thaddeus Ross narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping further into the room.

Y/N stood, suddenly aware of how much she’d let herself unwind. She straightened her clothes and tried to appear nonchalant. “It was just a party with some friends. No big deal.”

Thaddeus arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”

“Yeah, friends. You know, just... normal people.” Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Thaddeus studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp, as if trying to piece together the details she hadn’t given him. 

“I see,” he finally said, his tone unreadable. “It sounded a bit more... involved than your usual nights out.”

Y/N swallowed, brushing off the heat rising in her cheeks. “It was just for fun, Dad. Nothing to worry about.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just gave her a long, assessing look. 

“You know how important it is to keep certain parts of your life secure, Y/N,” he said in that familiar, commanding tone of his. “People might take advantage if they know too much about who you really are.”

Y/N gave him a playful smile, trying to brush off his seriousness. “Dad, I’m 24. I should be out there kissing strangers at parties by now, right?”

Thaddeus didn’t smile. He simply sighed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. 

“I wasn’t wearing a neon sign that said ‘Mr. President’s Daughter’ on it. It was just a party. I’m allowed to have fun.” Y/N rolled her eyes, her tone still light but more pointed now.

Thaddeus didn’t seem to be swayed by her attempt to joke. “Having fun is one thing, but keeping yourself safe is another. You may think these parties are harmless, but they aren’t always what they seem.”

“Dad, relax. I know how to keep myself out of trouble. I mean, come on, I live here, don’t I? No one’s getting past your fortress.” Y/N sighed, but her smile remained. 

Thaddeus gave her a long, measured look, as if deciding how much more to say. Finally, he relented just slightly, his voice softening. “It’s not just about the security, Y/N. It’s about the people you surround yourself with.”

Y/N softened her tone too, standing up to face him. “I get it, Dad. I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m not going to live in fear. I can take care of myself.”

Thaddeus didn’t reply right away, his eyes flicking to the security system panel before returning to her. “Just... be careful. Not everyone you meet at those parties will have good intentions.”

“I know, Dad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Y/N nodded, her earlier playfulness giving way to a more serious understanding. 

Thaddeus gave a short nod, clearly not fully convinced but unwilling to push the conversation any further tonight. “Good. Just remember what I said.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there with the lingering weight of his words. As the tension dissolved, she let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I’m 24,” she muttered to herself, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

“I heard that!” Thaddeus yelled from another area of the house.

“You were supposed to!” 

Despite everything, the memory of the night—the music, the dancing, the kiss—still played in her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Next Chapter

[parisoonic]

I'm in love with how you draw characters (especially when you draw sniperscout and demoman in general), I'm unsure if you've answered a question like this before, but how do you figure out what to do with face shapes? It's hard to explain but the way you over-exaggerate certain features to make their design pop is so cool to me and I've never been able to do it for myself. That, and making faces look like.. well, faces.

thank you so much!!! hopefully i'm understanding you right...

Regarding the face shapes in TF2...we're all standing on the shoulders of the (excellent) design work already done and laid out. The characters have really nice distinct face shapes with some general overlap before you even consider that a lot of them have facial accessories which you can pick and choose from to help push facial silhouettes and peel apart characters that are a little similar.

Naff threshold filter heads to show silhouettes lol In order to exaggerate them - it's mainly about pushing and pulling the existing proportions and ratios of their faces IE: Making Medic's/Soldier's/Heavy's stupid large-chins even longer but sacrificing some of their forehead or eye-region. Varied proportions have a lot of 'rhythm' or 'appeal' and typically the human face can break down into the forehead (+ hair), eyes (I like to do a Batman style mask but people will often use the nose to form a triangle too) and then....everything else (chin, cheek etc).

Soldier, Heavy and Sniper all have REALLY similar proportional ratios but their silhouettes are really different (in both the x and z). When you add in that the 'default' way to view Soldier and Sniper is with their accessories they're all really nice and different. Funnily enough Sniper's 'eye mask' is teeny tiny with his visors off but this relationship changes with his sunglasses on. Kinda interesting... I sometimes like to think of visual vibe-based 'archetypes' when i'm drawing the tf2 guys. I don't have one for everyone yet but Heavy is sort of like 'handsome caveman' to me. Archetypally, cavemen are drawn with thick brows, small low foreheads and big chins. The 'handsome'-ness comes in when you apply a delicate approach to eyes, cheekbones, lips and with careful posing. Having this kind of visual-archetype in mind informs how I view the character as a whole and thus how i depict them! HOPEFULLY even if I drift away from how they actually look because the vibes are right...it feels right you know? There's also a sliding scale to me as to HOW you represent them. If the character is doing something goofy/stupid, drawing them less handsome and toonier can add levity. Obviouslyyyy you can have your handsome depictions making a dick joke (and that's its own sort of visual gag) but you'll notice in a lot of my images the straight-man gets drawn a little more...realistic? on-model? than the butt of the joke. It just feels more appropriate to me haha I'm using 'toonier' here to mean not only am I drawing fewer details but also exaggerating those ratios between areas of the face away from their 'default' ratio. like with most drawing-y things it's practice AND experimentation! i draw these guys differently depending on my mood and how generous i'm feeling towards their looks lol if you wanted tips on the construction of faces I really recommend checking out Griz and Norm's 'Tuesday Tips'. They're incredibly clear, concise and very approachable (and cover a variety of subjects!) Hopefully this link works? but if you search them on Pinterest and grab a cuppa, there's some AMAZING tips to be had here: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/search/pins/?q=griz%20and%20norm&rs=typed

[koiiiji]

First of all miss u and ur windbreaker fics 🖤 Don't know if u ever done, a truth or dare fic with windbreaker characters wooin or any other character u like☺️ were it can get a little steamy 👀 like the reader was dared to kiss joker and they kiss. Wooin gets jealous or something lol

author’s note ; finally in that state when i can equally pay attention to both lookism and wb fandoms!! thank you for request, and sorry for delay😵‍💫

summary ; happening before vinny entered the team, like 3-4 seasons

tw ; alcohol, suggestive

boring evenings dragged on one after another, a break in the "league of streets" freed up a lot of time for you and your friends. and that's why you were hanging out at your apartment right now, suffering absolute idleness with Hyuk, waiting for Wooin and Joker to come from another deal or underground fight or whatever shit they are doing right now.

Hyuk bored poked at the screen, cozily sitting in an armchair, occasionally making sarcastic comments and saying, "yo, open the tiktok, i just threw off some real jokes." while you've already exhausted yourself waiting, and just hung your head down and threw legs on the cushions of the sofa, mumbling in response to another tiktok with a monkey, "fuck off, learn what humor is."

throwing the phone aside, you sigh and looked at the clock. it's almost 12 am and friday, so you weren't surprised that Wooin and Joker were messing with their business for so long, but still they must have at least some kind of conscience!!! these two donkeys promised to come back at 10pm and take a drink with them, and right now without any alcohol in your system it was quite difficult to tolerate Hyuk's jokes about monkeys and about a non-existent love triangle between you and two idiots who were already 2 hours late. and in your opinion, he's been pushing Joker's candidacy too hard since Wooin intentionally woke up him early in the morning three days ago, just because he woke up early himself.

Hyuk, bored and still poking at his screen, looked up when you let out a frustrated sigh. "relax, they'll be here soon," he said with a dismissive wave, eyes flickering back to his phone. you were about to retort when the sound of the apartment door unlocking made you both perk up. Wooin and Joker stumbled in, looking tired but triumphant, with a couple of bags in their hands. "you two still in same room and didn't commit any crime? im impressed," Wooin said, kicking the door shut behind him. Joker, ever the stoic, gave a brief nod in acknowledgment, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "we got the drinks," he said simply.

Hyuk sprang up from his chair, abandoning his phone. "about time, i was starting to think you'd gotten yourselves into another fight." he rummaged through the bags, pulling out bottles of soju and beer.

"close enough," Wooin said with a smirk, dropping onto the couch next to you. "but that's a story for another time."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for a bottle and cracking it open. "you guys owe us big time," you said, taking a swig. "Hyuk's been driving me nuts." Hyuk threw a middle finger at you playfully. "love you too, buddy."

as the drinks flowed and the evening wore on, the atmosphere in the apartment grew more relaxed and jovial. jokes and laughter filled the room, the earlier boredom forgotten. someone suggested playing a game, and before long, you all found yourselves gathered in a circle on the floor, playing a rowdy game of truth or dare.

"alright," Wooin said, eyes glinting mischievously. "it's your turn," he pointed at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "truth or dare?" you hesitated, knowing Wooin's penchant for wild dares. but with the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your system, you felt a surge of boldness. "dare." and that's where Hyuk intervened and interrupted Wooin. "i dare you to kiss Joker." Hyuk's grin widened.

room fell silent, all eyes turning to Joker, who was lounging against the couch with his usual calm, almost detached expression. you glanced at him, feeling a flicker of nervousness. Joker met your gaze, his face unreadable. and you were about to back out when Wooin, who had been unusually loud one, suddenly shutted his mouth, turning his face away and taking a big sip. Hyuk laughed. "come on, it's just a game!"

feeling the pressure from everyone's stares, you took a deep breath and leaned toward Joker. to your surprise, he didn't pull away. instead, he remained perfectly still, legs spread widely, one if his knees been up and hand with beer in it was resting there, and his eyes locked on yours. the kiss was brief, just a soft press of lips, but it felt like it lasted an eternity.

when you pulled back, Joker's calm demeanor was unchanged, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Wooin, on the other hand, looked distinctly unhappy. He avoided your gaze, taking a long drink from his bottle again.

the game continued, but Wooin's mood cast a shadow over the fun. his usually loud and mischievous attitude was replaced with a sullen silence, and he kept drinking more than talking. as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, the atmosphere grew hazy. the room was filled with laughter and half-hearted jokes, but the underlying tension never dissipated. you found yourself glancing at Wooin, who was avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially you.

eventually, the need for another drink drove you to the kitchen. You rummaged through the fridge, feeling the cool air wash over your flushed face. as you grabbed a beer, the kitchen door swung open, and Wooin stepped in. the two of you stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator. "hey," you said softly, breaking the silence. Wooin looked up, his eyes dark and slightly irritated. "hey."

"are you okay?" you asked, closing the fridge door and leaning against the counter. he scoffed, leaning against the doorway. "why wouldn't i be?"

"you seem upset," you replied, trying to gauge his mood. he took a step closer, his expression hardening. "why would i be upset? it's not like i care that two my friends just kissed."

you blinked, taken aback by his tone. "Wooin, it's just a game. you know that."

"yeah, sure," he said, rolling his eyes.

"what's your problem?" you snapped, feeling your frustration rise. "my problem?" he echoed, his voice rising. "maybe my problem is watching my friend make out with another friend and everyone pretending it's no big deal."

"and what's so special about it? you never saw people kissing?" you raise your voice as well, starting to feel irritated. he ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "forget it," he muttered, turning around and leaving the kitchen. "it's nothing."

"it's obviously not nothing," you insisted, stepping closer and grabbing his wrist. "why can't you just tell m-" he didn't let you finish when he turned around abruptly and grabbing both of your hands, putting them behind your back, pressing you into the kitchen unit and leaning in kissing you, his lips pressing against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. this kiss was different from the one with Joker - hungrier, more desperate. you melted into it, letting your hands out of his grip, finding their way to his hair as he pressed you with his hips against the counter. the kiss deepened, and the world outside the kitchen ceased to exist. it was just you, Wooin and the heat between you, growing more intense by the second. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and you responded in kind, your body aching for more of his touch.

you moaned into his lips as you felt his teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip, pulling it back a bit, before running his forked tongue over the swollen area. his hands moved lower, squeezing your ass tighter and lifting you higher to sit you on the kitchen counter.

now you were looking down at him, running your hands down his neck, burying it in his jet black hair, pulling him back, for another kiss. Wooin stood between your legs, pressing your body closer to his, so you could feel his warmth, his hunger and greed for your touch and hands. you whined something inarticulate into his lips again when you felt one of his hands slide lower, unzipping your jeans and nimble fingers slipped under the thick fabric. barely touching, teasing and playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties, he shut up each of your moans with another kiss, pressing his tongue deeper in your mouth.

finally breaking away from each other, you both didn't look away, afraid to disturb the silence of the kitchen, and only quiet attempts to catch your breath sounded in the darkness of the room. smiling mischievously on you, Wooin was about to kiss you again, and his fingers was about to pull your panties aside, when the light suddenly turned on, and with the most sour and disgusted expression on his face, Hyuk appeared in the corridor "eeew guys, right in front of my beer? seriously?"

[maxwell-grant]

do you have any favorite batman henchmen?

I put a lot of stock into how a Batman work tackles the resident henchmen and assistants and organization surrounding any specific Batrogue and how those intersect with each other so yes, absolutely I have Bat-henchman opinions, and favorites per villain. I'm gonna about pick about one or two among my favorites and name a few honorable mentions, with one exception and that's Rhino, Scarface's muscle. I know he's sort of a package deal with Mugsy, and Mugsy's pretty good too, but Rhino's the one I love.

I have a huge amount of fondness for Rhino and Rhino specifically because of his showing in "Read my Lips", as one of my favorite musical pieces for the series is the leitmotif that plays specifically for Rhino's moments in the opening heist and his brawl with Batman in the climax, and frankly he earns a top spot for me solely on the basis that he has his own theme and it's a banger on top of that. Scarface is exactly the kind of Bat-villain you want funny stereotypical cartoon gangsters attached to, and the big dumb grunt archetype is always more fun when paired with a proportionally much smaller partner or boss. And in Rhino's case, not only is he a titanically strong wall of muscle taking orders from a hand-held puppet dressed like a gangster, but cowering in fear when said puppet gets angry at him and relieved when reminded that he's too stupid to betray da boss. They made a lot with very little out of a bit character and it makes me love the episode so much more, and again, he has his own theme song and it opens the episode even, pretty hard to top that.

Penguin: My favorite overall has usually been Lark, specifically the version of her that was introduced in Tony Daniel's run. Like with Rhino and Scarface, the tiny funny-looking Oswald Cobblepot having a tall, intimidating lady chaffeur following him around makes for good contrast, and although I didn't like "Bullies" much at all, I really liked that scene of them being on friendly terms with each other, how much Penguin trusts her with his life and what he does. I like she is not abiding by any kind of formal dress code, like everyone else who tends to work at the Lounge, she's got almost like a punk thing that really contrasts with Oswald's own outfits and I always liked that, her individuality.

A more recent favorite would be Lili Kwan from Penguin: One Bad Day, someone who is far more marginalized than Oswald, and someone who was marginalized and pushed aside BY Oswald, but who joins up with him because he is the best lesser evil she is going to get and because they have enough in common that he can relate to her and respect her and ensure she is respected, but she pointedly does not mince words around him and does not entertain Oswald's delusions and self-loathing. She kinda demands Oswald to be the better class of criminal he paints himself as, to learn from his mistakes and earn having her by his side because "a king can't have illusions", and that's an incredibly interesting dynamic to me, this person with a vision of what Penguin and his empire should be like and in a position to have Penguin listen to her about it, not just muscle by his side but a voice in his ear pushing him to get his head in the game, be someone who deserves the loyalty he has from the underprivileged and the outcasts he claims to be a part of.

Honorable mentions would be the Red Triangle Gang from Batman Returns. I don't think they would really belong in any other version of the Penguin, and I have some very mixed feelings on Returns still, but I like the history they have with this Oswald and I like them in the movie proper, my favorite is the Poodle Lady for no real reason. I would also name the Kabuki Twins from The Batman cartoon, and Mr Decondor from The Batman Audio Adventures.

Joker: I gotta go with Bob the Goon, the Number One Guy. He is not even called Bob the Goon in the movie, he's just become so emblematic a figure for goons everywhere that he earns that name, Bob the Goon. See, I actually don't think the Joker should employ clowns in his gang, I think if you have more than one clown going around doing crimes, then they're not that special individually, I don't see the Joker surrounding himself with people who look or act even half as outlandish as himself, and that’s part of why Bob works for me, this comically ordinary schlub grunt who nevertheless endears himself to our sympathies for putting up with the Joker, being endlessly loyal to Napier before and after his accident. We like him in no small part because the Joker clearly likes this guy as much as he's capable of liking anyone on the planet, which is why it actually lands when the Joker guns him down just to vent. Rest in peace Bob, an example to low-lives everywhere.

If I had to name another favorite, and one I think works better on a reocurring basis, it would be Charlie Charleyhorse, from The Batman Audio Adventures. Charleyhorse has the mannerisms of a smooth-talking wise guy and is the guy who handles the day-to-day businesses of the Joker, sweet-talking recruits and negotiating deals and convincing rookies to eat poison and even hosting his broadcasts, and in contrast to the other villain sidekicks in the show who provide comedic contrast he is this very efficient, very charming and dangerous man, fully cognizant of the cruelty he's assisting and the man he works for. To me he feels like a very organic way of establishing how much more dangerous the Joker is compared to the other villains, that he runs his disorganized crime with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, that behind all the chaos and mayhem there is an unfathomably brilliant mind at work and a smart, affable businessman to act as a conduit between that mind and the city, as if the Joker plucked the ghost of Jack Napier from his soul and found a sweet deal that lets them both happily exist.

Honorable mentions would be Prank, from The Batman cartoon. I think Joker gunning for his own Robin is an idea with legs (Harley never really counted in that regard), I really liked his design, a perfect combination of Robin aesthetics with a clown/jester motif, and I thought he had one of the more interesting set-ups for a "Joker corrupts people into extensions of him" story, definitely one of the better Joker episodes in that show. Other honorable mentions would be Jackanapes and Captain Clown from TAS, because the Joker getting unreasonably attached to a horrible giant clown android is a pretty funny concept to me.

Riddler: God, what a perfect character Miss Tuesday is. Pairing up the self-obsessed artist of crime with the harshest critic of all, the disinterested judgemental teenager, is such a perfect combo and it does so much to breathe new life into a very classic take on Riddler. The fact that she regularly stays in touch and coordinates stuff with other villain interns is amazing and part of the incredible worldbuilding The Batman Audio Adventures has in general. Miss Tuesday is this physical embodiment of ennui to deflate his cartwheeling histerics, manifesting every bit of self-awareness that the Riddler completely ignores, annoying him just as much as he annoys everyone else (her included).

It's punctuated by her being casually murderous to an extent that even surprises him, and the fact that she is just as smart as he is, so by the standards he lives his life by, he can't brush her off as another small-minded knuckle-dragging ignoramus like he does with everyone else, no, he can't tell himself that she simply doesn't understand what he is doing. She does understand him, she is just not that impressed by him, and Eddie will simply have to roll with the barbs and work harder if he is to prove himself. She is the closest The Riddler has to a conscience and thus her job is not to push him towards any kind of moral self-improvement or an approach to his work that doesn't involve murder and terrorism, but to dunk cold water on his head and call him cringe when he gets in too deep or for doing this instead of, like, making money off this crap or something.

The other candidate would be the Riddler's Followers from The Batman. They're not a concept I think would work for a more traditional version of The Riddler, but God they work SO well for that movie and that version of him, marking Eddie Nigma's transition from malajusted murderer into not just a supervillain with a city-destroying plot, not just the rise of supervillains as a thing Gotham is gonna have to deal with forever, but as a sickness aimed at the heart of the city, and a sickness that Batman is indirectly responsible for and that he must owe up to. I really like how The Riddler: Year One elaborates on them with "He doesn't trust people. But numbers never lie." His "henchmen" are numbers, numbers on a screen he never has to actually interact with, but can still send on to be proxies of him, embodiments of how much bigger this is than anything Batman could have imagined it being.

Honorable mentions would be the classic duo of Query and Echo, and much like Bob, we gotta bring up his henchgirl Molly from the Batman 66 pilot two-parter, who tragically died by falling into the Batcave's nuclear reactor. "What a way to go-go".

Two-Face: It's common for Two-Face to have twin sets of named thugs but I can't say any of them have ever been particularly memorable to me, but one that does stick out to me is Benny from Long Shadows. I'm of the opinion that if any Batman villain should be establishing a working relationship with a henchman/assistant, if any Batman villain really needs to be depicted putting in the work as far as convincing people to work for him, it should be Two-Face, the former widely-beloved District Attorney/politician turned crimelord who somehow stays a dominant player in the Gotham underworld despite everything stacked against him (his face, his reputation, his past being public record, the coin-based decisions, etc). I think Two-Face needs to be some degree of charismatic and conversational and convincing, he's someone with more tangential history in this world than the other villains and should be willing and able to engage with people at any level, even if, and especially if, he's going to betray or save them at the flip of a coin, and the closest anyone's ever come to capturing that for me has been Benny, this guy who's willing to question Two-Face's decisions and is smart and sensible and generally pleasant enough that Two-Face lets him do it (with some limits, of course) and lets him in on what he's planning. Being drawn by Mark Bagley, who can convey a lot of expression and personality on any character, is definitely a bonus.

Scarecrow: Not so much of a henchmen since this was technically a villain team-up, but Scream Queen as she was featured in that Brave and the Bold segment has literally nothing in common with comics Scream Queen as debuted in Scare Tactics to the point she is a new character in every way. I like comics Scream Queen quite a lot, and I wouldn't want her to be any kind of underling to Scarecrow, but BATB Scream Queen is a very cool design and concept and in general I think Scarecrow could stand to have some cool and inventive henchmen, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing BATB Scream Queen turn up again so long as she had a different name. I'm also extremely partial to the Strawmen and the idea of him employing former students and offering them teaching exercises mid-crime.

Bane: There's really only one form of Bane henchmen that matter and it's Bird, Zombie and Trogg, the Fabulous Five to his Doc Savage (I always felt like there could be two more members to actually make them five, I know it doesn't have to be an exact reference but). I like them as they are in regular canon but my favorite depiction of them so far has been in the Batman 66 comic by Jeff Parker, which retrofits Bane to fit the 66 aesthetic and tone by further emphasizing his lucha motif, and having his Fabulous Three all dress up in distinct masks of their own referencing existing iconic luchadore characters.

Black Mask: I think the False Face Society is one of the more interesting parts of Black Mask's concept and it really doesn't come up enough, and when it does it gets folded into just being a name for his gangster lackeys instead of the weird cult aspect it acquired when it was folded into his character, I'd like to see that stuff get folded back in.

Hugo Strange: Honestly I love all of Hugo's varied forms of henchmen over the years, all of them have their place in the grand tapestry of his designs (I'm not too big on Sanjay from Batman and the Monster Men, there is stuff to like about their dynamic but I don't think the pulp racial manservant is a thing deserving of the charming throwback treatment). The gangsters from his debut, the androids/mannequins, Night Scourge, the TYGER guards/troopers from Arkham City, the mind-controlled villains and inmates from his Deathstroke arc, and of course the Monster Men. I do prefer the horrific body horror kaijus from Night of the Monster Men, but I also like the mutated giants, especially when they dress up in oversized trenchcoats and slouch hats.

There are a few others but I'm lastly gonna say Mr.Freeze and his polar bears Notchka and Shaka, from Batman and Mr.Freeze: Subzero. I'm not opposed to Mr.Freeze having regular henchmen, or even ice-themed henchmen like in Batman and Robin, there are ways to have it make sense, but the polar bears I think have this sort of almost innocent fairytale logic to them that just fits Mr.Freeze and his imagery a lot better, abstract guardians of the concept of the arctic that Mr.Freeze claims dominion over. Even at their most benign, you can't extricate human henchmen from the inherent brutality of their profession, but when it's trained animals defending a master, it's easier to find innocence and sympathy, traits that fit well with Mr.Freeze. If there's anything in that movie I remember, it's the bittersweet ending where they walk off into a blizzard together, his sole two companions into this new life he's cursed with.

Does it really make any sense for Mr.Freeze's established skillset and character for him to have a duo of trained polar bears on call to do crimes with, the way Penguin and Catwoman have their own trained animals? No. Is it corny? Arguably yes. Do I think it's cool? Is it a cool image? Very much so, and when it comes to Batman, that tends to be the final word in things.

[yannaryartside]

the payoff for this love triangle shit better be good

a Sydcarmy vs Claircarmy rant

So, to ramble here, I am starting to wonder what place romance has in the overall plot of The Bear as a show and, by that, what function it will execute. I am going to write about some alternatives that I can predict.

The overall purpose of the show is to heal Carmy, or to put Carmy on a path when self-healing is the only option. He is a sinking ship that has been treating his holes with tape instead of acknowledging the "bear" trauma. At the present of the show, the bear is still in a cage.

So, what paths of healing romance could offer Carmy? Love and loving others is essential to learning to be better versions of ourselves and achieve happiness.

Option one: ClaireCarmy

Yeah, we are here again. Stick with me after the next paragraph so I can dispute what I am about to write.

I must admit, if I take the most superficial parts of the show's structure so far, Claircarmy seems to be the clear endgame. What we are seeing with them could be categorized in one of the most used tropes in romance: the "I am not good enough to receive love" trope, in which a character is afraid of being loved, so they push away the romantic interest until they heal their wound, they make a love confession, and they get back together. I know a movie/show came to mind. We have seen it a dozen times. Even what Claire told Tiff "If something good happens to him, he would blame me." We see Carmy thinking about her and missing the relationship they had. He even declares her as his peace. It would make sense that this is a story about a girl who wanted to love a boy and a boy who was too wounded to accept that love. It would make a clean ending for Carmy to go to therapy, learn to accept love, and reconcile with Claire, who has all the attributes of someone who would fall in love with a broken person.

The grenades are in the way.

NOW, the show has been planting grenades for option one to feel like "the right one" even if our protagonist seems to think it is the case. There are Claire's obvious red flags of course, behavior that looks naive but has some manipulative undertones. The fact that she is written like a woman with no personality, or at least no personality outside helping people in pain (Carmy included). She still talks about her patients as subjects, and there is a theory in the sydcarmy fandom that she may feel powerful or valued only in a position of taking care of people who cannot fend for themselves. There is also the fact that she is not a good doctor (she almost killed a patient over a very preventable mistake). Her comments of setting things on fire being cool while Carmy is afraid of setting himself on fire is still, for me, the biggest red flag.

My theory is that Storer just didn't want to show people with depression to accept love but to be wary of the love we accept while we are still stuck in our old ways of thinking. It is true that even at your worst, you may find yourself in relationships that keep you that way, but the relationships may feel good, so we have a hard time moving away from them. If that is the case, Storer, I promise to never commit blasphemy on your church.

The SydCarmy option.

I am not going to repeat myself. They read each other's minds. They can actually give each other real advice and support (While Carmy kissed Claire after she admitted malpractice). They make each other better, while Claire keeps Carmy as broken as he is (never apologize, you can pretend to be someone else at a party).

Sydney brings him actual peace and self-understanding. It is actually very important to me that they made Sydney say she has difficulty keeping with Carmy at his worst because she is not a mind reader. But at this point, there is no doubt in my mind that she has feelings for Carmy, or that she at least has felt the sparkles of what it would be love in the future.

The payoff.

I swear to god, the next season better provide clarity on all of this because, at this point, it is too much. There is no way you give so many clues in the background for one ship and pursue the other in the front.

My worst fear, which is actually really possible, is that the show wants to concentrate on the "being stuck in the past" narrative so that all the elements for the future are there, but we won't act on them until the end of it. So Carmy can kill all his bad habits, the self-isolation, aggressiveness, depression, self-harming tendencies (fire), and Claire, and THEN, he can open his heart to Sydney. It is obviously not what many of us want to see; maybe this was never a love story, but an "unstuck yourself from the mud" story.

I wish the progress of the love story you actually want to tell (Sydcarmy) would progress with the show's actual plot (Carmy's mental health) a little more. Otherwise, the payoff is never going to feel quite like one. You may have done too much of a good job misguiding your audience, and then it will feel like a change of direction, like a plot twist at the end of a mystery novel, but that rarely works in romance subplots.

I know the clues were there, but your narrative seems to ignore them so far, making it feel more like gaslighting.

Anyhow, thank you for hearing me ramble.

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline Part 3 ~

Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle

You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you... Warnings: frank discussion about sex & pregnancy, sorta nsfw

<----Part 1 Part 2 chapter map

-You go to a natural pool in the back of the estate, the stones of the dam hand-laid by your ancestors generations ago. The moon is high, and no one else is here, too busy celebrating. “It’s beautiful,” says Paul, filled with wonder. “Everything here is so beautiful.” He is looking at you, when he says the last, and you don’t know what you’ve done to deserve the admiration in his eyes. 

You jump in head first, clothes and all. Everything needs a rinse. When you surface the moon is bright enough that you can see his earnest expression, his powerful body poised to plunge in after you to save you. You alarmed him. It’s so endearing, and you feel a little guilty. 

“It feels wonderful,” you say, holding out your hand to him. He relaxes a little, gives that boyish smile that ties your heartstrings up in knots. He kicks off his shoes first, before diving in. You are treading water, but he finds a rock with his long legs on which to stand. You cling to his shoulders, smiling like a fool. 

“I feel like I found a mermaid,” he says, holding you close. The water is cool, and the line of his body heat against yours is wonderful. 

“You’d better hope not,” you tease. “Don’t sirens try to drown sailors after luring them in?”

“Hmm.” He pulls you closer with that gentle smile. “You seem pretty sweet to me.”

You sigh at hearing that. “Oh Paul…” You kiss again, a slow, lingering press of lips that curls your toes, and makes you wrap your legs around him in the water. “Y/n?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I wouldn’t mind, you know, if we really were married.” 

With a sigh you rest your chin in the bend of his neck. You feel like you can tell this man anything, and he won’t get mad, and yet part of you just wants to protect him. Most of all, from yourself. 

“You don’t want me. Not really.” 

“That’s news to me.” You can tell he’s smiling as he says this. It makes you smile too. 

“Maybe you want to make love to me.”

He laughs shyly; you feel like your bones are filled with sunshine. “Yes.” You can feel the evidence of this, his hard, large bulge poking against your center. It fills you with stupifying want all over again.

You kiss him behind the ear. “You can.” Another kiss, your lips dragging across his cheek. “Just…don’t finish inside me.” He laughs again, quieter, completely self-deprecating, as though you’ve suggested the impossible. 

“Sure. Says the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Riiight.” You roll your eyes, drawing back to look at him. He’s beautiful like this, his dark hair slicked back, water droplets silver on his eyelashes. 

“I mean it. You are, to me.”

“Paul…” You toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, your heart so full it physically aches.

“I would take care of you,” he tells you gently. “If…we made a baby.” 

You believe him, too. It moves you, every cell in your body straining for this man, and inexplicably that makes you angry, mostly at yourself. 

It sounds like such an easy thing, like baking a cake. Mix the ingredients, put it in the oven, pull out a sweet little bundle of joy. Make a baby. But you know it is truly a bloody and dangerous business, for a woman. You’ve seen it first hand. And bringing the thing into the world is only the start.

“I don’t want to be a mother, and I don’t want to be taken care of,” you tell him, knowing you sound petulant, unable to stop. You let go of him, pushing off to swim across the pool. Now the water feels unbearably cold, without him. 

However, somehow, he still isn’t angry. He just watches you across the water, with those sad soulful eyes. “What do you want, y/n?” 

You think he’s the only man who’s ever really asked you that. 

“I want…freedom,” you admit, and once you start you can’t stop. “I want to live on my own terms, rather than someone else’s. I want to just be responsible for myself, instead of having to run after children and men who act like children and constantly cleaning up someone else’s mess. I want a room of my own, with a window overlooking the Bay, with an Underwood typewriter. I want to write books. I want to travel. I want…” You look at him, smiling winsomely across the quicksilver waters at you, and your next words ball up in your throat. 

I want you.   

All the things you named before, seem stupid, utterly pointless, without that last keystone to hold it all together. 

You don’t know how to tell him that, without utterly signing yourself away to him.

He nods, to himself as much as you. “I hope you get those things, y/n. I hope you get everything you want.” 

“I hope you do too,” you say, and mean it. “I hope you get your house, your family, and your dog.” You can’t see how you fit anywhere in that picture. 

He shrugs, looking down at the water, making ripples beneath the surface with his big hands. “It was just…an abstract idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“The things we want can change, with the people we meet.” 

“Paul…”

“What if…I just want you?”

“You don’t.”

“Yes I do.” He says it sweetly with a shrug, just so matter of fact. 

“I would hurt you.”

“Maybe. But maybe…it would be worth it, to try. I think I love you, y/n.” 

You freeze treading water, and almost choke on a mouthful as you sink. 

What have you done? 

 Before you can think of anything to say, or swim to him again to kiss him silly, a hair-raising scream splits the air in the distance. You know that sound, and your blood runs cold. 

“What the hell was that?”

“Gato monte.”

“A what?”

“Lion. Mountain lion. Time to go. Vamos!”

Don Juan was a hunter, and he had a rug made of one in his den. Maybe you would show Paul–if you made it back to the house alive. You run back to the hacienda together soaking wet, hand in hand. He left his shoes behind in your haste. As soon as you make it back to the flood of torchlight by the house you feel safe. Only then do you laugh together, leaning on the stone wall. 

“The devil have you two been up to?” demands a familiar voice filled with disdain. 

You gravitate into Paul’s arms without even looking. 

“Swimming, señor,” you answer, short of breath. We heard–a mountain lion.”

Don Juan emerges from the shadows, smirks, pleased for some reason, and you wonder if maybe the sound you heard was not the leon, but a man. 

“The two of you should be careful. So many bad fates could befall a man, out in the mountains.” 

He is looking at Paul as he says it, and your heart drops like a stone. You know that look from when you were children, and you're afraid don Juan is up to something bad.

TBC...

[writingsbyzuzu]

Don’t Get The Blues

Sheriff!Ted Nivison x Outlaw!Gunslinger!Reader

(Please note that this work of fiction is a romanticized version of the Western Frontier and is not meant to be historically accurate in any way, shape or form. It’s a cowboy movie in fanfiction form. I try my best to keep a lot of things sounding relatively realistic though.)

In Southern California, just before the precipice of the California Gold Rush, Theodore Nivison is declared sheriff of Red Oakland, an up and coming town full of hustle and bustle and even some upper class people. Only one issue. The upperclass and the fancy banks? They keep getting robbed.

Reader was an orphan who grew up with Sheriff Theodore and their friends Schlatt, Ludwig, Kurtis, and Hasan in the orphanage just a few miles away from Red Oakland, and became one of the most prolific gunslingers in the area. But she tired of seeing the children in the orphanage suffer, and watch those who lived on the outskirts of Red Oakland live in poverty, so she recruited those she trusted most to do something about it. She just had to not get caught by the man she’s been in love with since childhood. Who she now despises.

How will Ted and his deputy Eddy find the prolific gang? Can he win over the girl he’s loved since he was a boy?Who are the Red Oak Stealers? And where will they strike next?

part one-endless song

two-from a dream I’m waking up

three - long time lover

four - curse the goddamn day

[actual-changeling]

partly inspired by my own meta post that i wrote about it a while ago. i thought about the love confession at the end of triangle for too long and somehow managed to uh. make it hurt even worse. sure, i could have fixed it BUT i can also write the equivalent of making us all chew glass so that's what i did.

800-something words of bittersweet angsty hurt/comfort

———

"Hey, Scully."

Her feet are aching and her body is screaming for rest, and yet she returns to his bedside when he calls, exactly like she always does. The day is heavy on her bones, eating away at her composure and leaving her raw, with her nerves exposed. It feels like she hasn't slept in a week, and all she wants is to go home, have a hot bath, and probably cry for a good hour or two. 

Mulder pushes himself upright, and with her hands grasping the railing, she leans in closer than she probably should; she can still see him floating in the water, no matter how hard she tries to expel the memory.

"Yes?"

Scully can't say what she expected—a 'good night', maybe, or a 'thank you for saving my ass again'. 

But when Mulder looks at her with an unflinching gaze and says, "I love you,"  she breaks. Easily and all at once, a dry twig snapping underneath her heel, a ripe peach bruising as it rolls from the kitchen counter. Her eyes flutter close, her next inhale shakes almost violently, and she falters. The white-knuckled grip she has on the plastic railing is the only thing keeping her upright.

Scully cannot look at him, can't face the determination, the hope she knows she'll find. After a minute of tense silence, she speaks with a quiet, tortured voice, and clings to the last remnants of her self control.

"Don't—don't do that to me, please. Not today."

Mulder's hand lands next to hers, and she stares at the inch of distance between them as hers begins to tremble.

"It's not drugs talking, Scully, I mean it."

I know you mean it, she doesn't say. That's the problem.

God, she's tired. She just wants to go home and forget about all of it, and now he cannot even give her that one last respite. The tears pricking in the corner of her eyes are born of overwhelmed exhaustion, and her strength fizzles and burns out as she attempts to hold them back. She does not want to cry in front of him, never has, and the hot trail running down her cheek feels like a dagger pointed at her chest.

When Mulder sits up and leans in, she squeezes her eyes shut and is about to turn away when his fingertips brush along her jaw. He slowly, hesitantly, traces the lines of her face until he cups her face with his right hand and wipes at the tears with his thumb. 

It's everything she wants at the wrong time, and yet she helplessly sinks into the touch. After a few moments of her allowing the gesture, his other hand comes up, too. Mulder is close enough for her to feel his warmth against her skin and his breath ghosting over her lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and she doubts either of them knows what exactly he's apologising for. 

Saying it. Not saying it earlier. Saying too many things he shouldn't have. Almost getting himself killed again. All of it and more.

"I can't do this, Mulder. Not when—when you could change your mind and take it back."

She can sense him scrambling to respond, and she finally opens her eyes to stop him in his tracks. Not unkindly, she softly shakes her head.

"You will promise not to, but it already happened. You meant what you said until you didn't. You wanted me around until—well." The laugh bursting out of her throat is weak and humourless.

In a flash of panic, Mulder's grip on her face tightens, not uncomfortably so, just enough to cause her hands to shoot up and wrap around his wrists in return. Keeping him in place, pulling him away, she doesn't know. Both. Neither. He does not want her to walk away, and, deep down, she wants to stay despite knowing she can't. 

"Never again," he pleads, an edge of desperation to his voice she heard once before; another missed chance hidden badly from view. "Never again, Scully, I swear."

She's shaking her head before he finishes his sentence, squeezes his wrists once, and then slowly leads his hands away from her face. Immediately missing the warmth, she lingers and keeps them in her grasp. After everything they went through, he's still Mulder, the one person in the world she knows would never willingly hurt her despite having done so before. She still trusts him, no matter how hard she tries not to.

Regret is dripping from her words, and she smiles, if only to soften the blow. She doesn't want to make the situation worse than it already is, but she can't do this. She can't. Not now. Not like this.

"I want to believe that, I really do, but it's not enough. Words aren't enough."

She slowly slides her hands upwards until she can unfurl his fists and press a kiss to his palms. Then she lets go and steps back.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Scully feels his eyes on her for days, no matter how many miles stretch between them. He does not say it again. She didn't expect him to—somehow, it still hurts.

[tae-rhymeswithslay]

TMNT Hottake: TOTTMNT was disappointing (in my opinion)

i know i know!! i shouldn’t be putting down the new gen of turtles bc thats what every past gen fandom does to every single new iteration BUT this is my blog and i do what i want. Also, thisnis my OPINION feel free to disagree or debate.

SO MUCH wasted potential

GUYS the amount of openings the MM movie left for the series to branch off of was crazy. The Shredder and Cynthia Utrom and her extremely likely connection to the Kraang the were obviously plot points the writers were saving for the second movie and the turtles also couldn’t have drastic character development because of that, but still. The first movie left off on the turtle’s going to high school and regular kids, which was a concept that hadn’t been explored before in the franchise. And the show just. Didn’t. They didn’t go into their school life beyond passing comments about homework and wrestling. We could have gotten a silly shenanigan filled episode of the turtles trying to find after school jobs or clubs or even how they dealt with their newfound fame. That would have been epic.

2. Lack of story content

Really, we only got two complete stories from the series. part one with bishop and then part two with goldfin and even then neither villain really stuck out to me. Bishop had that inciting moment that tied her into the first movie with her mechazoid getting crushed by the superfly mutant. But then her ‘revenge plan’ still felt shoehorned in like they were trying to make a morally complex villain and failed. Her side backstory with her sister just fell flat. i’m sorry, I love sweet sibling bonds, but we just weren’t given enough information or time about Elena for me to personally care about her. Then at the end when bishop turned herself in and then immediately relapsed into villainous territory, I was like “wow, i can’t wait to see her descent into madness as the second half of the series progresses!” but then she was just pushed to the side COMPLETELY in order to start the goldfin plot line. Where Bishop was a fresh take on a classic character, Goldfin and the East River Three were completely new characters created for TOTTMNT. i can kinda see what they were going for by starting off with whats familiar to fans and then branching out into more creative territory, but the shift between stories was so jarring, it felt loke i had just started a whole new series entirely- though, now that i’m typing this out, that also could have been the feeling the writers were going for since part one was told through Leo’s point of view and part two was told through Raph’s. The writers might’ve purposefully made the transition choppy.

3. Personal gripes, aka my fave characters were not there

CASEY!! CASEY MY PRECIOUS LITTLE BOY WHERE WERE YOU?!! Casey was never named as a character in the show, but i will bet my bottom dollar that they were one of the unnamed purple dragons. I have theories that either the boomerang dragon was casey (really really hoping he was. he was my favorite dragon outside of Hun and Angel) or the knife-stick hockey girl was Casey (girl casey truther fr) and i really hope the bucket hat dragon is Keno bc that man NEEEDS to make a comeback. Theres really not much to say about this reason. MONA ALSO WASNT THERE. ik it would’ve been hard to do a space arc in the very limited number of episodes, but it would’ve made my 2012 and 1987 loving heart to see her just make some kind of appearance.

THINGS THE SHOW DID RIGHT!!

guys, i’m not a complete hater believe it or not

no uncomfy crushes/relationships/love triangles

after the Apritello disaster of 2012, i was waiting with bated breath to see how they would handle the Leopril romance introduced in MM and i was pleasantly surprised. It felt so much more genuine and like a realt teen crush. Hes so much more chill about it than Donnie ever was, but he is still clearly very in love and its all so sweet to watch.

2. The ANIMATION

HOLY SHIT WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?? it was nothing short of STELLAR- the subtle style changes as the turtles perspectives shifted?? UGHHH!!! i wanted to consume my phone. THE FIGHT WITH GOLDFIN???!! JAW!! ON THE FLOOR!!!

[feyburner]

tumblr user feyburner, i have a confession. i don't know how to roast a chicken, or do anything with a chicken, and at this point i'm afraid to ask.

I can tell you're afraid to ask bc this isn't really a question. But I will answer it anyway. I'm always happy to talk about chicken.

You’ll be pleased to learn that roasting a chicken is so easy. The below explanation is quite long bc I am including all the information I can remember, to set you up for chicken roasting success. But, essentially, you’re rubbing a chicken in oil and seasonings and putting him in the oven for like an hour. Done.

Remember that people have been roasting whole chickens since the dawn of time using whatever they had around bc it’s the most low effort, high reward meal ever. You could say the word “salt” in a chicken’s general direction and toss him at a candle flame and he would still turn out great.  

To roast a chicken:

Buy a whole chicken, however big you want. 4-5 lbs is enough to feed 3-5 people with leftovers.

Prepare a workspace with a plastic cutting board (not wooden bc raw chicken juices) and paper towels. 

Remove the giblets, pin feathers, extra flaps:

1. Stick your hand up his primary orifice and pull out anything loose. There is usually a handful of little organs like heart and gizzards and sometimes these strings of pale bean looking things (tbh not sure what those are). Save these for stock, except the liver (super dark squishy organ) which will disintegrate. You can eat the liver separate if you want.

2. Trim off any sticky-outy bits that have pin feathers on them, and the flaps of fat/gristle over his orifice. Save the fatty bits for stock. Leave the triangle of fat directly above the orifice (his tail). 

Pat the chicken dry with paper towels inside and out. Get him as dry as possible. 

Spatchcock: You don’t have to spatchcock/butterfly but I like to, bc it maximizes outer surface area for that good good crispy skin. Also easier to get breasts and thighs done at the same rate.

All you have to do is cut the backbone out of the chicken with poultry shears or kitchen scissors if you’re desperate. Then push down hard to crack the breastbone so he lies super flat. Save the backbone for stock or jus. How to spatchcock step by step guide.

Dry brine: Prepare a bowl of coarse kosher salt. More salt than you’d think. Like 1 Tbsp per lb of meat. Rub salt over the whole chicken inside and out. Don’t skimp on the salt especially on the inside. It will not make your chicken crazy salty, it doesn't penetrate the meat that deep. Also some will be wiped off before you cook. 

Put the chicken on a wire rack on a baking sheet and chill uncovered in the fridge for 2-24 hours. The point of this step is the salt draws moisture to the surface of the chicken, which then evaporates in the circulating fridge air. It helps you get crispy chicken skin.

Dry brine + resting isn't 100% necessary, if for some reason you must produce a roasted chicken on a time crunch. But it's a good practice.

Roasting time:

Pat excess moisture off chicken inside and out. If you did not spatchcock you can stuff the inside with a halved lemon or garlic head, herbs, whatever you want. 

Seasoning rub: Prepare a small bowl with olive oil (maybe 1/4-1/3 cup?), salt, freshly cracked black pepper, and whatever dried herbs and spices you want. A good starter is: salt, pepper, parsley sage rosemary thyme, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder. I love me some Cajun spice mix like Slap Ya Mama. Start with like 1-2 tsp of each (1 tsp spices, 2 tsp dried herbs) and build from there. Don’t be shy. Recipes on the internet are like “Use 1/2 tsp herbs for this whole recipe” because they’re heading off 1-star reviews from annoying people who can’t handle a molecule of flavor. Season with your heart, your pussy, and your balls. Don’t be ashamed to use a store-bought spice rub. It���s not lazy, it’s efficient. Also, who gives a shit.

Rub the oil all over Mr. Chicken like he’s an Ancient Greek warrior-prince you’re preparing for the Olympic Games. 

Some recipes tell you to use butter, or slip butter under the skin, but butter has higher water content than oil and might not get you the ideal crispy skin. You can do whatever you want though. It’s your chicken. 

Preheat the oven to 425°. People will tell you a billion different temperatures—screaming hot, low and slow—but I’m here to tell you that it is so hard to fuck up a roast chicken, you can experiment and the results will always be great. 

I like to start at a high temp for 30 minutes to get the skin crisping and then reduce to 375° for the rest of the time to avoid burning. Sometimes you’ll have to cover him with foil if the seasonings start charring. That’s fine.

General cook time: 20 minutes per lb of meat, give or take 20 depending on oven temp. A 4-5 lb chicken at 425° -> 375° generally takes me ~1 hour 20 minutes. If you do low and slow at like 325° it might take 2+ hours. Just check on him periodically. Tbh it’s harder to overcook a chicken than you probably think. 5 minutes, or even 10-20 minutes, is NOT the difference between beautiful tender juicy chicken and a bone-dry tragedy. Chicken is not turkey. He is versatile and he can take it.

Pull the chicken when a meat thermometer inserted into the thickest part reads 145° or above. (160° is the “safe temp” but 1. The temp will continue to rise for a few minutes after it leaves the oven, and 2. 160° is the temp at which bacteria dies immediately. 145° is fine for eating. Disclaimer: I am not a scientist just a guy who makes a lot of chicken.)

If you don’t have a thermometer, pull the chicken when you insert a knife into the thickest part and the juices run clear. Gorgeous.

Let him sit for 10-20 minutes before carving. When carving, find the oysters and give them to your favorite person or take them as the Cook’s Bounty.

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

Again, this explanation is quite long because I included lots of detail. If you do it even one time, you'll realize it's incredibly easy and intuitive and doesn't take much time at all.

Godspeed!

[astro-eats]

Abstragedy part two! <3 this ones more angsty y'all mb

This is mostly for @j3llyst6r cuz they liked my abstragedy other fanfic :3

Zooble was the first to wake. They mumbled softly and looked at the girl laying on them. Cute. They gently pet the back of her mask, debating whether to wake her up or not. They decided to let her sleep a little longer. She looked so peaceful.. The way she looked when she was sleeping. They wondered what she would have looked like back before the circus. Definitely cute. It was impossible for her not to be cute. Their mind continued to wander down that path, the path of wondering what would happen if they were both human. In the real world. Where they're supposed to be. Not trapped in this stupid restricting circus. They were stripped of most things that made them human. They could be taken apart with ease, they had a TRIANGLE as a head, and they had no mouth. No mouth. That means they could never kiss her. Stupid. They sighed as they ran their fingers up and down Gangles ribbon back. She slowly woke up.. Her eyes fluttered open. She mumbled softly.

"Z- zooble..."

"Heh.. Good morning Gangle.."

They pushed away the infuriating thoughts that filled their mind. It would probably make everything harder. They wanted to kiss her so bad.. Their thoughts were interrupted by Gangle nuzzling into them and speaking.

"I love you zooble.."

They chuckled.

"I love you too, Gangle."

How sweet. What a cute moment between two lovers. It sucks they're stuck. Stuck in this stupid, bright, chaotic circus. And they were both stripped of their humanity. What they would do to be human and in the real world. They could have a life with this girl. A life. A real life. Maybe they could've even gotten married and lived together and be happy and-

"Zooble..?"

Her voice pulled them out of their thoughts.

"... Mhm?"

"What are you thinking about..?"

"... Uh.. Don't worry about it. Love you."

"... I love you too Zooble..."

This girl. She was sweet, to say the least. But they wanted to be on the real world with her. Not this. What did they do to deserve this hell? More importantly, what did Gangle do to be here? She was literally an angel. They just want to be home. Home.

They sigh and pet Gangle more. Gangle spoke up again.

"You keep sighing.. Something's wrong. Tell me."

"Gangle it's really noth-"

"Zooble. Tell me."

"..."

They stopped petting her. F(%*7(). They were making her talk about things. That's the opposite of what they wanted.

"Gangle i-"

"I don't want you to go insane. The best way to go insane is keeping something that's bothering you locked in the back of your mind. But its gonna resurface. That's how you abstract. Its gonna resurface and it's gonna be the only thing you think about. Talk to me."

As much as they hated it, she was right. They don't want her to be right. But she is..

"Fine. I'll talk to you. Ugh.. I just.."

Why was it so hard to admit they're hurting!?

"i - Ugh! Gangle this is stupid!"

Gangle gave them a worried but stern look. No way she was letting them keep things to themselves.

"Zooble. Please, just talk. Pretend I'm not here or something.."

Zooble sighed again. Damn, this was hard. So hard. They weren't as emotionally there as Gangle was. They were detached. Disassociated. How were they gonna do this without lashing out.. No. They had to do this for her. And if they get angry, she was there to regulate them. Ok. They can do this.

"Fine Gangle. I just.. I want.. Ugh! I want to go home! I'm so F(%*7()ING sick of being here! I hate it! I want- I need- Go home- in UGH!"

They gently as possible took her off of them. They were honestly a bit rough with her, but not enough to hurt her. They backed themselves against their colorful wall as Gangle spoke up again.

"Zooble.. It's gonna be ok.."

"NO! Its not gonna! I we were both taken from out lives and put it this F(%*7()ING HELLHOLE!"

Zooble tended to get angry instead of sad. And Gangle tended to get sad instead of angry. Gangle spoke in a sad tone:

"... If.. We never were taken out of our lives.. And put here.. We wouldn't have met.. Ever.."

...

That's A good point. They wouldn't have ever found her if they wouldn't have put on that stupid headset.

"Ok.. Im.. Tired. Can.. You come back.. Sorry for taking you off of me.."

They weren't feeling A lot better, but the fact that gangle listened to them and crawled back into their lap made them appreciate life a little more.

They laid back, bringing Gangle with them. Gangle whispered into the spot their ears would be, If they had any.

"I love you..."

"I love you too."

With that, zooble closed their eyes and tried to get some rest again. So did Gangle. Funny how a small thought can spiral into a mini crisis. But a mini crisis can spiral into cuddles.