#literally Os car

[rwby-confess]

Confession #75

[whatudottu]

OP I hope you know your banger headcanons have got me to start wondering if there’s memes on the extranet about stuff like “introducing your Galvan friend to your Tetramand friend vs introducing your Cerebrocrustacean friend to your Appoplexian friend”

Anon I also hope you know that my first thought after I saw this ask had kinda ‘Introducing our bass player to things he’s never seen before’ vibes I guess especially for the galvan friend, who in the world of Whatudottu (and all the influences I have) headcanons is the stereotypically socially isolated intelligent species between them and cerebrocrustaceans lmao-

…hmm I wonder if I should add the names of Ben 10 aliens into my dictionary :P

Hehe, I’ll admit that while I have headcanons on the fly for galvans and cerebrocrustaceans to guess at how they’ll react interacting with a friend’s friend (ccs being more obvious and welcoming in the friend group, potentially galvans having jealousy issues or even just fascination someone can have more than one friend and ones with such differences), but I have no idea how tetramands and appoplexians would react lmao, at least not beyond your appoplexian friend being confounded by how nice your cerebrocrustacean friend is (potentially versus any bias they might’ve learnt) met with a mutual confusion when your cerebrocrustacean friend sees you and your appoplexian friend verbally and or physically roughhousing :P

[npdbenrey]

i am nothing if not a selfshipper. godbless

[great-tusk]

I got sick and had to reschedule my dentist appointment for today 😭😭😭.

[povlnfour]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ STUDY BREAK (OP81)

pairing: oscar piastri x f!student!reader

summary: oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.

warnings: main characters friends can be jackasses. mentions of international relations for any of my fellow bach survivors who shiver at the mention of the course

* faceclaim: scarlett leithold (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 276 others

yourusername summer break you were fab

view all comments

yourbsf wow you took international relations literally huh

yourusername call it research

friend1 IS THAT A PRIVATE JET? IS UR DAD RICH RICH?

friend2 girlie where are you getting all this money from i know uni debt is killing you like the rest of us

yourusername rich boyf perks😙

friend2 this ‘boyf’ who we conveniently haven’t met?🤔

oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 193,209 others

oscarpiastri good company, good racing🤙🏻

view all comments

user luv u oscar

user YOU’LL COME BACK EVEN STRONGER KING

user you seemed so happy today :’)

user ppl are saying he had a girl w him👀

yourusername cutie

friend2 your boyfriend seeing you comment on random celebs posts…🤭

texts with oscar *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 300 others

yourusername term 1 you’ve been cute

👤 tagged yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3

view all comments

friend3 can’t believe ur not in lectures next week bc ur off to go watch cars go vroom vroom 🙄

yourusername gotta support my boy what do you want from me

friend3 sure jan

yourbsf first pic is HOT send it to me rn

friend1 tagged but not pictured… just like ur boyfriend

yourusername just posted stories *ੈ✩‧₊˚

oscarpiastri just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 194,256 others

oscarpiastri race✔️ time to explore⏳

view all comments

landonorris oscar has rizz?

user your captions say so little yet so much

user HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND????

friend1 @/yourusername ur heart must be breaking

yourusername ????

friend1 he’s got a girllllll

user lando speaks for us all HUH

your group chat *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourbsf and 361 others

yourusername bit of fun before back to reality :)

view all comments

yourbsf look cute who’s your photographer

yourusername os🥰

friend3 girl is the shirt meant to prove something

friend1 i am saying nothing other than ur cute (and delusional)

texts with your best friend *ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo *ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourbsf, landonorris and 278 others

yourusername does it count as a date if it’s his full time job?

view all comments

friend1 girl… this may be going too far

yourusername literally what do you want from me ????

yourbsf i’m happy to be your third wheel as long as i get maid of honour duties

friend2 don’t encourAGE HER

yourbsf just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 410 others

yourbsf ode to my best friend and her boyfriend (ft. me) who are sickeningly adorable but cause me more stress than is worth it

view all comments

yourusername WHEN DID YOU TAKE THESE

yourbsf WHEN YOU WERE BEING ALL GROSS

yourusername also the pic of us is so cute🥹

yourbsf you weren’t kidding when you said the boy is a good photographer

your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts with oscar ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbsf and 301 others

yourusername more from summer because i miss italy and i miss being trackside

view all comments

friend3 this was a weak attempt to convince us

friend1 bby… just confess it’s okay

oscarpiastri pretty girl

liked by yourusername

friend2 oh

friend1 huh. interesting

your group chat ੈ✩‧₊˚

oscarpiastri just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 201,456 others

oscarpiastri graduation party or a chance to show off to her friends that i actually exist? who knows. proud of you baby🧡

👤 tagged yourusername, yourbsf, friend1, friend2, friend3

view all comments

user mr piastri i must confess my love for ur girlfriend

friend3 i humbly accept that i was wrong

yourbsf wish i could have taken a photo of their faces when you walked in lmao

user i love her already LOOK AT THAT SMILE

yourusername i lurv uuuuu

landonorris gross go back to being a secret

yourusername gonna make out w him in front of you

landonorris I SWEAR TO GOD Y/N. OSCAR CONTROL YOUR GIRLFRIEND.

oscarpiastri i’ll keep her feisty thanks

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 3,409 others

yourusername a hot boyfriend who exists✔️ a degree✔️ a killer ass✔️

view all comments

oscarpiastri fun fact the last part is only one of my favourite things abt you

yourusername aw you’re so romantic os

oscarpiastri nothing but the best for you

friend1 i can’t believe he exists

friend2 i can’t believe oscar piastri spoke to us

yourusername said with all the love in the world, SUCK MY DICK

user i’ve only just been introduced to this friend group and i already love them

———

a/n: first oscar post EEEE

this was meant to be a lando one shot first but author is: in hospital, so i hope this is okay for now😭

taglist (found HERE): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Hey hey!!! I don't think you understand how excited I am so happy oscar weekend 🧡🧡

Could I request either 5 - “I’m literally naked on your bed and you’re talking about work?” or 7 - “I’m trying to be sexy and you’re laughing!”

!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!

warnings: implied smut

You could tell Oscar was stressed. You’d known him long enough now that you were a pro at reading him. The smile he painted on his face couldn’t hide his tense shoulders or the way his eyes seemed to narrow at the mention of the current car.

It was understandable, after finishing the season last year with podium after podium after podium. He probably feels as though the team is moving backwards, while he’s eager to stand on the podium once again.

But knowing your boyfriend, there was always one sure fire way to make him relax. You dressed in his favorite little lingerie set and laid yourself out on your bed. You grin when you hear him come into the apartment.

“Darling?” He calls out.

“In here!” You call back to him.

He walks in looking down at his phone, completely missing the sight in front of him.

“The meetings were terrible today.” He grumbles, setting his bag down. “I mean, I guess they were fine. We’re doing fine enough with the current car but there’s no upgrades anytime soon.” He sighs as he rummages through the closet.

“Os?”

“I just thought after last year we’d have our shit together, you know?”

“Os-”

“I really don’t want to fall behind again.” He groans.

“Oscar!”

He finally turns to you, his mouth dropping open as his eyes travel over your body.

“I’m literally naked on your bed, and you’re talking about work?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How stupid of me.” He laughs.

You scoff, standing up, reaching past him into the closet to grab one of his shirts.

“I can’t believe you! I’m trying to be sexy and you’re laughing!”

“No, no, no! I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at me.” He pulls the shirt from your hands and tosses it away. He plants his hands on your hips, pulling you to him and rests his forehead against yours. “I’m laughing at how incredibly stupid I am to not notice my absolute beauty of a girlfriend laid out for me all nice and pretty.” He kisses you, then trails his lips down your neck, softly biting at your pulse point. “Can you forgive me?”

You tug his head away from your neck with a hand in his hair and look into his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I think I can, though I may need another form of apology.”

You squeal when he lifts you up and lays you back down on the bed.

“I can definitely do that.” He smirks.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon Alexa is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

If you own an Alexa, you might enjoy its integration with IFTTT, an easy scripting environment that lets you create your own little voice-controlled apps, like "start my Roomba" or "close the garage door." If so, tough shit, Amazon just nuked IFTTT for Alexa:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/10/25/23931463/ifttt-amazon-alexa-applets-ending-support-integration-automation

Amazon can do this because the Alexa's operating system sits behind a cryptographic lock, and any tool that bypasses that lock is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that it's literally a crime to provide a rival OS that lets users retain functionality that Amazon no longer supports.

This is the proverbial gun on the mantelpiece, a moral hazard and invitation to mischief that tempts Amazon executives to run a bait-and-switch con where they sell you a gadget with five features and then remotely kill-switch two of them. This is prime directive of the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

So many companies got their business-plan at the Darth Vader MBA. The ability to revoke features after the fact means that companies can fuck around, but never find out. Apple sold millions of tracks via iTunes with the promise of letting you stream them to any other device you owned. After a couple years of this, the company caught some heat from the record labels, so they just pushed an update that killed the feature:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/10/30/apple-to-ipod-owners-eat-shit-and-die-updated/

That gun on the mantelpiece went off all the way back in 2004 and it turns out it was a starter-pistol. Pretty soon, everyone was getting in on the act. If you find an alert on your printer screen demanding that you install a "security update" there's a damned good chance that the "update" is designed to block you from using third-party ink cartridges in a printer that you (sorta) own:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Selling your Tesla? Have fun being poor. The upgrades you spent thousands of dollars on go up in a puff of smoke the minute you trade the car into the dealer, annihilating the resale value of your car at the speed of light:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/23/how-to-fix-cars-by-breaking-felony-contempt-of-business-model/

Telsa has to detect the ownership transfer first. But once a product is sufficiently cloud-based, they can destroy your property from a distance without any warning or intervention on your part. That's what Adobe did last year, when it literally stole the colors from your Photoshop files, in history's SaaSiest heist caper:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

And yet, when we hear about remote killswitches in the news, it's most often as part of a PR blitz for their virtues. Russia's invasion of Ukraine kicked off a new genre of these PR pieces, celebrating the fact that a John Deere dealership was able to remotely brick looted tractors that had been removed to Chechnya:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Today, Deere's PR minions are pitching search-and-replace versions of this story about Israeli tractors that Hamas is said to have looted, which were also remotely bricked.

But the main use of this remote killswitch isn't confounding war-looters: it's preventing farmers from fixing their own tractors without paying rent to John Deere. An even bigger omission from this narrative is the fact that John Deere is objectively Very Bad At Security, which means that the world's fleet of critical agricultural equipment is one breach away from being rendered permanently inert:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john

There are plenty of good and honorable people working at big companies, from Adobe to Apple to Deere to Tesla to Amazon. But those people have to convince their colleagues that they should do the right thing. Those debates weigh the expected gains from scammy, immoral behavior against the expected costs.

Without DMCA 1201, Amazon would have to worry that their decision to revoke IFTTT functionality would motivate customers to seek out alternative software for their Alexas. This is a big deal: once a customer learns how to de-Amazon their Alexa, Amazon might never recapture that customer. Such a switch wouldn't have to come from a scrappy startup or a hacker's DIY solution, either. Take away DMCA 1201 and Walmart could step up, offering an alternative Alexa software stack that let you switch your purchases away from Amazon.

Money talks, bullshit walks. In any boardroom argument about whether to shift value away from customers to the company, a credible argument about how the company will suffer a net loss as a result has a better chance of prevailing than an argument that's just about the ethics of such a course of action:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Inevitably, these killswitches are pitched as a paternalistic tool for protecting customers. An HP rep once told me that they push deceptive security updates to brick third-party ink cartridges so that printer owners aren't tricked into printing out cherished family photos with ink that fades over time. Apple insists that its ability to push iOS updates that revoke functionality is about keeping mobile users safe – not monopolizing repair:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

John Deere's killswitches protect you from looters. Adobe's killswitches let them add valuable functionality to their products. Tesla? Well, Tesla at least is refreshingly honest: "We have a killswitch because fuck you, that's why."

These excuses ring hollow because they conspicuously omit the possibility that you could have the benefits without the harms. Like, your tractor could come with a killswitch that you could bypass, meaning you could brick it at a distance, and still fix it yourself. Same with your phone. Software updates that take away functionality you want can be mitigated with the ability to roll back those updates – and by giving users the ability to apply part of a patch, but not the whole patch.

Cloud computing and software as a service are a choice. "Local first" computing is possible, and desirable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

The cheapest rhetorical trick of the tech sector is the "indivisibility gambit" – the idea that these prix-fixe menus could never be served a la carte. Wanna talk to your friends online? Sorry there's just no way to help you do that without spying on you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/08/divisibility/#technognosticism

One important argument over smart-speakers was poisoned by this false dichotomy: the debate about accessibility and IoT gadgets. Every IoT privacy or revocation scandal would provoke blanket statements from technically savvy people like, "No one should ever use one of these." The replies would then swiftly follow: "That's an ableist statement: I rely on my automation because I have a disability and I would otherwise be reliant on a caregiver or have to go without."

But the excluded middle here is: "No one should use one of these because they are killswitched. This is especially bad when a smart speaker is an assistive technology, because those applications are too important to leave up to the whims of giant companies that might brick them or revoke their features due to their own commercial imperatives, callousness, or financial straits."

Like the problem with the "bionic eyes" that Second Sight bricked wasn't that they helped visually impaired people see – it was that they couldn't be operated without the company's ongoing support and consent:

https://spectrum.ieee.org/bionic-eye-obsolete

It's perfectly possible to imagine a bionic eye whose software can be maintained by third parties, whose parts and schematics are widely available. The challenge of making this assistive technology fail gracefully isn't technical – it's commercial.

We're meant to believe that no bionic eye company could survive unless they devise their assistive technology such that it fails catastrophically if the business goes under. But it turns out that a bionic eye company can't survive even if they are allowed to do this.

Even if you believe Milton Friedman's Big Lie that a company is legally obligated to "maximize shareholder value," not even Friedman says that you are legally obligated to maximize companies' shareholder value. The fact that a company can make more money by defrauding you by revoking or bricking the things you buy from them doesn't oblige you to stand up for their right to do this.

Indeed, all of this conduct is arguably illegal, under Section 5 of the FTC Act, which prohibits "unfair and deceptive business practices":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

"No one should ever use a smart speaker" lacks nuance. "Anyone who uses a smart speaker should be insulated from unilateral revocations by the manufacturer, both through legal restrictions that bind the manufacturer, and legal rights that empower others to modify our devices to help us," is a much better formulation.

It's only in the land of the Darth Vader MBA that the deal is "take it or leave it." In a good world, we should be able to take the parts that work, and throw away the parts that don't.

(Image: Stock Catalog/https://www.quotecatalog.com, Sam Howzit; CC BY 2.0; modified)

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

[oimitocat]

HEARTBEAT | OS

yeonjun, kai (seperately) x gn!reader

angst + subtle fluff + crying + insecurity + breakups + idol au! + unhealthy mechanisms + 6thmember!reader + implied depression

a/n: can be read as M!READER. i’m sorry if this is trash, i feel like i this isn’t very good ;(

from his earlier training years, yeonjun knew who he was. he was talented. other trainees feared being paired up with him- they would never fully shine next to him. it’s not something he boasts about, he is proud about it, of course, but… he remembers how lonely it was.

remembers how hard he had to keep exceeding if he did everything flawlessly. he couldn’t give anything less than what he has so easily done up until then. yet…. you managed to be on his level. easily. naturally.

you enamored him from the moment he saw your name at the top of the weekly evaluation scores. second. you were second.

“wanna go eat something?” yeonjun asks with a smile, appearing before your view.

you were looking at the schedule your manager sent. once more, you’re more prone to being in the dorms or your studio than going out the city for anything. yeonjun has a busy month after tomorrow.

you’re always second.

“i’m good.” you say flatly.

unsure if you’re joking, yeonjun prods. “n/n, let’s go eat! i’m craving something from the corner store. oh! how about that phò you like? let’s go! i also heard we can take a car-“

“yeonjun go by yourself.” you groan.

“eh?” yeonjun pouts, sitting on your bed and shaking you. “n/n are you okay? you mad? you upset?” he asks, but he’s joking. he’s not actually concerned.

he always has other things to worry about.

“i wanna be by myself today, yeonjun.”

“well i don’t care! i want to be with you before my promotions start up-“

“well i don’t.”

yeonjun pauses, realizing you’re actually not in a good mood. he stares at your figure, back facing him. he hesitates before shaking you gently, “y/n-“

“ugh do you have to be so annoying? no one wants to be around your twenty four seven!” you huff as you sit up to glare at him.

he stares at you, surprised. “what are you talking about-“

“you’re always so full of yourself! always wanting the attention on you! you just want to go out so that someone spots you and they post about how you’re roaming around! you always do this!”

yeonjun fidgets with the bedsheet that fell over his lap, his heart sinking. “that’s not true. what are you saying? i want to spend time with you! we’re dating!”

“out of what? pity?” you grit.

“huh? no-“

“get out.”

and he obeys. there’s no fight in him. he’s never fought with you. this is completely new and unexpected. he’s never seen you so angry and hurt. where did this come from?

he’s seen the light die in your eyes. debut was hard. the career path is brutal. fans can be just as brutal as they are loving. he’s seen how your eyes lose that brilliancy he had loved. that loving passion dimming to a bitter craving for success you probably don’t even want now. yet you always smile. you always make the most of it. you try to.

how long have you been trying for? had he not been careful with you?

“good morning,” he says when he walks inside your room the next day.

you’re awake. he knows you are.

“i brought breakfast from that place you like.” he says, sitting on your bed. “y/n we need to talk about this.”

“there’s literally nothing to talk about. i’m sorry for lashing out. i know i’m the worst.” you say.

yeonjun shakes his head, taken aback. “i didn’t say or imply that. i just want to know what’s going on-“

“nothing. it’s literally nothing, i have nothing going on, you clearly do. don’t you have to fly out later?” you say bitterly.

what’s this about? he frowns, “well yeah but i know something’s wrong. you’re upset-“

“i just want to be alone! can’t you respect that?” you groan.

yeonjun pauses. he doesn’t want to comply but he thinks it’s best. he just stands and goes out. you don’t come out all morning. he doesn’t know anything more until later that evening. his flight is at 8 pm. you haven’t touched what he brought for you. it gives him an unpleasant feeling.

his heart is heavy again. where are you? why aren’t you answering his calls or messages? why aren’t you in your room?

“y/n? i saw him go to the studio,” beomgyu says when he’s called by yeonjun.

you’re hardworking, he knows that. but he’s learned that you push yourself on days you want nothing to do with anything or anyone. you were supposed to kiss him farewell for his flight. you were supposed to hug him and say you missed him already.

‘ i have nothing going on, you clearly do. ‘ what did that mean?

you said he was full of himself… why did you say that? what made you say it?

and when he peeks inside the studio and sees you furiously writing in your notebook- he realizes. you have the headphones on and you only do that when you want no one to disturb you. yet, yeonjun doesn’t like letting things go too far. he needs to clear this up. he doesn’t want to leave knowing you’re like this with him.

“y/n…” he calls out gently, putting a hand on your shoulder.

you jump and stare at him. your expression of surprise turns dark fast. “what? aren’t you supposed to be packing?”

“i can’t see my love before leaving?” yeonjun frowns. “y/n why are you upset with me?”

“i’m not.”

“you said a bunch of hurtful things.”

“i did not. if you can’t handle the truth then maybe you can’t handle life at all.” you grit.

yeonjun finally feels something click. he has never realized what was happening until now. he should have pieced it together before. he should have seen how you started distancing yourself. mentally. emotionally.

physically you’re here.

“i’m tired of being the only one who loves you.” he says, eyes glimmering with tears. he swallows the lump in his throat, “i need you to love yourself too.”

you pause. he’s… right. “yeonjun.”

“i’ve done everything i can. i love you, i treat you good. i’ve been by your side since trainees and i’ve fallen in love with you. yet, i’ve never seen you appreciate me what i appreciate.”

“just get out-“

“why do you push me away? i’m not you,” he begs, “you can’t push yourself out of your body, but why do you push me away?”

“STOP BEING RIGHT. DAMN IT!” you slam your fist down on the desk, your notebook and pencil jumping.

yeonjun swallows, looking away. “then stop being your biggest hater… i’ve been your biggest supporter… don’t hate me too…”

you bury your face into your hands. you sob. “i’m sorry… i don’t know why i do it. i hate that the most.” you say after a long silence, yeonjun never leaves.

he’s never dared to.

why do you hate it do much?

“y/n… you need help…” yeonjun says softly, kneeling before you. his hands rub your knee. “i know you’ve felt like a less important person ever since our career has grown… but we’ve always appreciated you more than anyone and anything.”

“i know,” you sniffle, “i just… feel so alone. seeing how you even the company leaves me in the shadow sometimes.”

yeonjun quickly pulls you to the floor and with him. he hugs you and rubs your back. you sob, finally letting it out.

“i love you… i’ll do whatever i can to make this better,” he whispers.

and you can only cling to that taboo truth.

there are multiple things that have made kai decide that if he ever goes back in time he’ll never be an idol again. yes, there are a lot of things he’s grateful for experiencing and having the opportunity to do but the reality is that this is a harsh path.

the negative remarks. being overworked. the only true reasons he stands firmer are the members.

and you.

yet, it’s felt lately as if neither of you are in a relationship. all of you were exhausted from the concert tours. the company is pulling too many strings and neither of you are strung together.

“huh?” you take out your headphones, looking at him.

“can we talk?” he asks, fidgeting.

you drop everything, hoping off the game without a say. you’ll explain later, kai is always your priority.

“what is it? come here,” you move away from your desk and stand.

the two of you wander to your bed. you’re sitting opposite of him, criss cross. he sits on the edge. you don’t question it, thinking he’s just having a moment where feeling on edge makes him be just that. he’s not looking at you.

“i just feel like we haven’t actually been… lovers.”

you blink. “you want… sex right now?”

“no,” he looks up at you with wide eyes. “n-not in that way! it’s just… we’re literally so busy…. we just came back from our tour and starting tomorrow we have to start meetings and stuff to work on our next album…”

you nod, blushing. you feel a little embarrassed for assuming he wanted sex but you couldn’t help it with how he worded it. “is this about not spending much time together?”

he nods, “yeah… it feels like we’re not dating… i can’t remember the last time we were like this…”

“well it’s kind of always like this, isn’t it? we’ll have our moments soon.” you assure, placing a hand on his knee.

“we could’ve had a moment but you chose to be with your friends and your game.”

you pause, “ah- i mean yeah, okay but we’ve been stressed from all our past schedules. you know i destress through video games or being in the studio. you could’ve been in my room!”

he looks at you. you can’t decipher that look.

you’re everything he’s needed to keep afloat when he’s drowning. yet….

“do… still want this?”

you blink, “want what?”

kai swallows, “us. a relationship.”

you look around, unsure what’s happening. “of course, kai why would you ask that?”

kai shrugs, looking down at the bedsheets, “i just feel like we’re too busy sometimes to even take care of ourselves…”

“that’s the whole point of us being together,” you scoot closer and take his hands in yours, “baby, remember when you just dropped during practice and cried from how tired and exhausted you were?”

kai bites the inside of his cheek and nods. he doesn’t look up at you.

“but it’s always you taking care of me,” he tries, almost in a begging tone. “aren’t you tired? i can’t even take care of myself and i feel bad with not just everything that’s happening but knowing we have a relationship. it’s so many things i need to care for but i can’t even care for myself. everything is just too much sometimes.”

“i get that,” you rub your thumbs over his skin, “kai i get that… but you know i’m here for you-“

“and who’s there for you?” he asks accusingly.

you gently pull your hands away from him. you analyze him. you heart races. “kai… are you… tired of me?”

kai’s eyes suddenly dart towards you. “i… i’m tired of everything y/n. i just want to go to sleep and never wake up.”

you take in the glassy look of his eyes and your heart goes heavy. “do you… not want to keep our relationship going? is that what this is? i know we have a lot going on but-“

“but what’s the point?” he asks, “y/n you deserve more than this. i genuinely cannot find myself spending energy into a relationship when i’m putting more than everything i have into my career.”

you grow baffled, “kai this is our career. we’re a group-“

“exactly! we all have so much to do and so much is expected of us. i fought with myself to get out of bed and come here. the thought of spending time with you a-bored me. it felt like a chore.”

“i’m a burden to you?” you ask.

he falls silent. not daring to look at you.

“when did this start?” you ask, looking down at the bed sheets. you sit back and cross your arms in a form of hugging yourself. “when did loving me become a chore for you? did i do something wrong?”

you’re not enough. that’s all you’re hearing. you’re not enough for kai to feel like he’s enjoying his life. instead, you’re something… someone he feels like is dragging him.

“no, no,” he groans, “you’ve always been my anchor y/n,” he tries, “on my worst days you’ve been more than enough but i just. i can’t be the same for you. i receive and receive but never give back. you don’t deserve that.”

you swallow, “i-i don’t care. you deserve everything i have to offer-“

“i don’t want it.” he says soft, looking at you, “not anymore.”

“but… why?”

“because i’ll burn you out…”

“no you wouldn’t-“

“i will and i’m doing this for the both of us-“

you huff, “don’t you love me?”

with a long, sadden stare, he looks at you. you slump. you watch as his mouth moves— saying exactly what you hoped wasn’t real. you watch as he stands. you watch as he pauses.

a friendship is all you could have. are you better off being coworkers… friends… than lovers. he knew this would happen too. he just wanted to see how far you two could go.

still, you always try. “this was never going to work, was it?”

“no.”

[yuna542]

Masterlist

Car Ride

Pairing: Im Jang-Do × Reader|Myeong-Gils daugther

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol & Sex, Explicit Smut, Oral (m receiving), fingering, Daddy Kink, age difference, pet names, swearing, public sex

Summary: Im Jang-Do. The strategy management director of Smile Capital and right hand of Myeong-Gil has to do his job as a personal bodyguard for the daughter of his boss once again, as she ran away and pick her up at a party. But this night something is different...

Note: Yes he‘s a villain, and yes he’s hot. So don’t blame me… Have fun with this OS and tell me if you liked it <3

"Such a pain in the ass," you muttered, though loud enough for the ex-cop behind the wheel to hear. Through the rearview mirror, you could see him raise an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the road as you sped down Soul at a hundred miles an hour.

"You know very well that your father doesn't like to see you partying wildly and indulging in pleasure..."

His deep voice literally vibrated off the walls of the black SUV. He had chosen his private car for this assignment. It was swanky, shiny, suited him.

You crossed your arms and looked out the window:

"I'm not that drunk."

He smirked and looked at your long crossed legs through the mirror, disappearing endlessly behind the seats under the black minidress.

"Oh yeah? I got you out of there just in time. You were standing on a table getting undressed."

A snort was the only response. You just wanted a night out, to clear your head and get away from all the stress your father put on you every day. He wanted you to take over Smile Capital one day, taught you all the disciplines. In addition to economics, credit business and proper behavior, there was also how to hold a gun, manipulate or intimidate people to your advantage.

You were almost an adult, still a teenager at heart. You longed for freedom, fun and passion. Jang-Do could understand that. However, you were always going overboard. When you entered a room, all eyes were on you, one or the other gasped in awe, others just stared with envy. You were intelligent, beautiful, with attentive eyes and a body that would drive any man out of his mind. He couldn't help but notice your cleavage tonight, as the dress seductively revealed a glint of your breasts. Your waist narrow, your curves soft, plush, thick. It would never occur to him to touch his boss's daughter. After all, you were so young and he had become your nanny by now. He liked to talk himself into working as a bodyguard and yet it was he who picked you up from excessive parties or criminal events. If your father knew half of what he had seen, he would be more than incensed.

Even though you'd had a long night, the car smelled like sweet honey laced with rose water since you got in, in addition to its pungent aftershave.

"It was just getting fun, you have to barge in like my babysitter and ruin everything," you opined, bobbing your foot slightly with the red highheel shimmering on your foot in the car's blue LED light.

"Better call me your bodyguard.... It's less humiliating."

You smirked and returned his gaze over the mirror for the first time that evening. Your lips gleamed from the lip gloss you'd just applied and one eyebrow lifted in amusement.

"Did you wake up because of me?" you asked, noticing his rumpled shirt, only half buttoned, and messy hair that was usually neatly styled. Others would have felt guilty, might have apologized. You just smiled, as if pleased by that fact.

"Couldn't sleep anyway," he grumbled, quickly averting his eyes as he lost track of the road for a second, caught in your eyes. That was the truth. The call from Myeong-Gil had reached him just as he was tossing and turning in bed, desperate for sleep. His boss had informed him that his only daughter, a hothead, barely tamable, much like her father, had gone off on her own. He had found your bed empty. You had once again gotten out of the window to escape the gaze of the guards Myeong-Gil had hired to keep an eye on you. But this was a job that had to be handled with discretion. Therefore, Jang-Do was given the job once again. He already suspected that you had gone to one of the three bars you preferred, and he was asked to pick you up and bring you back.

Annoyed, he slipped into his clothes, took his car keys and went to the bars. He found what he was looking for in the second one.

A bar called Pink Flamingo. He was just through the door when he spotted your long legs on the bar. All around you full of people cheering you on as you danced, drank shots and singing along loudly. The way you drew attention to yourself, enjoying it and playing with the attentiveness of the men below made him pause for a moment and watch you. Your bright laughter cut through the sweat-soaked air like a glistening light. The way you moved your hips to the beat of the music, letting your hands roam over your stomach, your sides, your breasts. He had been entranced until one of the young men who were far too normal, far too inferior to even breathe in your presence:

"Strip!"

Directly others joined in. Both girls and boys. All charmed by you and your charisma. He couldn't help but think of the old tales of sirens and nymphs who made people run smiling to their doom with just the blink of an eye or a smile.

Until now, he thought you were a pretty but headstrong girl who hadn't seen much and knew even less. But now that you were sitting in his back seat, your eyes fixed on the colorful lights of Soul, he could see a certain wisdom in you.

Before you could pull your dress up further, he had closed his hand around your ankle and looked up at you warningly. It had taken you a while to recognize your father's right hand and strategy management director of Smile Capital through the fog caused by the alcohol.

"Get down! Now!" his voice was calm, cutting, and as deep as the ocean.

The sharp jawline, the high cheekbones, the deep black eyes radiated a masculinity that made you bite your lower lip. No one, really no one dared to speak to you like that. Because of your name, your father, or your appearance.

Most trembled at your presence, despite your age. Not Jang-Do. He'd always been untouchable to your charm. At least, that's how it seemed.

Always grim-faced, he did not respond to your attempts at flirtation, nor did he succumb to your looks.

Not even there when you smiled, sat down on the bar, and pulled his hand into your lap.

"Jang-do! Why don't you come and have a drink with me?"

Unimpressed, he stared at you while the people around you eyed you curiously. Your hand was small and soft in his big strong ones.

"We're leaving. Now!" he ordered, pulling you on from the bar. You resisted, trying to fight off his hands as he pushed you through the people.

"Stop it! If you don't let go of me, I'll have you fired!" you hissed, but he only snorted what sounded very much like a laugh.

Even if you had the power, you would never do it. Jang-Do has been a confidant for too long, and there were few of those among your kind.

Outside, in front of the club, you successfully refused to go any further, clinging to a lantern. Sighing, he massaged his temples as you stubbornly glared at him:

"You can't do this! Leave me alone already!"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and watched you cling to the lantern like a drowning woman. It almost looked cute.

"I can't and you know it. Now come on and save us both some time."

You drew your eyebrows together and pushed your lower lip forward. Pouting, you slowly disengaged your arms from the lantern, careful, as if one wrong move could set off a shot. Jang-Do raised his eyebrows in anticipation, recognizing the flash of an idea in your eyes before you could run. Squealing, he caught you and threw you over his shoulder. Cursing, you drummed on his broad shoulders as he carried you to his huge car in front of everyone who turned to look at you. His fingers were tight on your thighs and with a red face you noticed how your dress was riding up. At the car he opened the back door, lowered you and finally you got in. But not before giving him the middle finger in the face.

"Fuck you," you whispered, tugging your dress back into place.

There was actually a smile on his lips as he slammed the door behind you and climbed into the driver's seat.

After you sighed emphatically the third time, he exhaled audibly and looked in the mirror:

"What?"

You looked at his hands, veins trailing over them, like a ripened leaf.

"I'm hungry."

His index finger tapped up and down on the steering wheel until he finally said:

"Burger?"

With a satisfied smile, you nodded quickly and he caught himself smiling too as you looked out the window again, appeased.

At a fast food joint, he pulled up. The stars shone in the cloudy sky. It was a mild night, with balmy breezes swirling the dust on the streets.

You ordered a whole menu. Burgers, fries, coke with lots of ice. The alcohol and the dancing had made you hungry. He himself took a ginger beer and paid for everything.

He drove you to the Han River so the people in the parking lot couldn't keep staring at you. The girl in the Louis Vuitton dress, with the Chanel heels, and her big muscular protector in the Gucci shirt looked strangely out of place in a cheap fast food restaurant.

He parked the car under a bridge and you sat down in the open trunk overlooking the water. It was quiet, cooler than right in the city, and he watched you kick off your heels, put them behind you, and devour your menu with dangling feet.

Right now you didn't look like the daughter of an influential loan shark and brutal gangster. You looked like a pretty girl, just coming of age, happy to have a burger and full of energy. He wondered if you only showed yourself like that around him. You were always perfect in front of the others. You never flinched. Eloquent and above it all. Even in front of your father, you never seemed relaxed or like yourself.

"Jang-do?"

He startled up from his thoughts, noticing that you had finished eating and were just sipping your drink.

"Huh?"

"If you weren't here.... Where would you like to be?" you asked, looking at him with so much curiosity in your eyes that his breath caught.

Your thighs brushed his and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he answered:

"You mean if I didn't have to babysit you?" he asked and you lifted your gaze from his muscular forearms.

"Bodyguard."

He laughed. It was a strange sound, and yet you wanted to hear it again. You leaned against his shoulder teasingly.

"You know what I mean."

He ran his hand through his hair, looking at your silver necklace with a crescent moon on it. You'd gotten it from your mother one day. Just before she died. Since then, he had never seen you without it. It lay on your skin like liquid silver and he resisted the urge to touch the place where it touched your collarbone.

"I've heard Hawaii is beautiful," he said, and you smiled. Immediately, images of raffia skirts and hula dancers popped into your head.

"And you? If you didn't have to take over Smile Capital? What would you do?" he asked, his interest making your cheeks blush a little.

"I'd like to dance."

He frowned in wonder, feeling your body lean against his, warm and soft.

"Dancing, really?" he asked incredulously.

You felt directly silly. You had never told anyone about your hobby. Since childhood, you loved to dance. From ballet to hip-hop and standard dances, you had done it all.

"Yes. Anywhere. On stages, in the theater, or teaching it to others. It doesn't matter."

You expected him to laugh at you. Make fun of you, or even be disgusted. Instead, he looked out at the river, the way the city lights shimmered on the surface like jewelry.

"It suits you."

The smile widened and he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful. Now it made sense to him why you went out partying so often. There you could dance regardless of your surroundings, let off steam without the fear of being stopped by your father. Or of being dragged out by his right hand.

But that was his job and the life you were born into.

That's when his eyes fell on the time on his phone and he stood up. Almost in a panic, you looked up at him.

"I really should take you home now."

"Please don't!" it escaped you and he closed his eyes for a moment, building up all his resistance against your big pleading eyes.

"Why don't you just want to go back?" he asked, rummaging in his back pocket for the car keys.

"I hate it there. Always the same. I'm trapped, never free to do what I want," you said, realizing you were finally being honest for once.

"And yet I have to take you back."

You stood up and just as he had the car keys in his hand, you sped forward and got a hold of them. Quickly you ran around the car, afraid he might grab you again.

But he stopped, looked at you blankly and tilted his head slightly.

"What are you doing?"

You raised the key in the air and jingled it playfully.

"If you want them, you'll have to get past me first."

You grinned wildly and he laughed throatily again. Glancing at the ground, he kicked a rock away and looked back up at you.

"You don't want to do that."

You continued around the car, to the passenger side, wiggling your eyebrows defiantly.

"You don't know what I want!"

Actually, he hadn't gotten up to play catch with a rebellious girl, and yet he felt the need to bend you over his hood to see if you still had such a big mouth with his handprint on your ass. Slowly he walked around the car, keeping you in his eyes like a lynx on the lookout. Your heart leapt with excitement and before you could react, he chased you around the car. Squealing, you tried to escape, but he reached you at the hood at the latest, grabbed your wrist and pressed you against the cold metal.

You hid the key behind your back and withstood his penetrating eye contact. Defiantly you jutted your chin at him, even as his eyes roamed over your face, scrutinizing your lips, and you realized how close he was to you. His chest was pressed against yours, his hip against yours, and he pushed one knee between your legs to get to the key.

Only when his lips hovered right in front of yours did he seem to realize what had just happened. You thought he would back away, turn away and scowl. Instead, you felt his hot breath bounce against your lips and his hand find its way to your hip. He was older. Much older and yet the gleam in his eyes was young, his broad shoulders agile and his desire real. Your body heat made him increasingly lose his mind, and he whispered in a voice so low it made you shiver:

"What are you doing?"

Your eyes wandered up and down until you gently placed your free hand against his chest.

"What are you doing?" you repeated his question, barely more than a breath.

"I want my key!"

"Uh-huh."

You slowly took out the hand with the key, but right now you could only pay attention to his firm chest, his attractive face hovering in front of yours, and his tart masculine smell.

The hood was pressed tighter and tighter against your butt and he made no effort to put distance between you. Gradually, pure fire rose in his eyes and desire slammed its claws into you.

"You can have them," you whispered, unable to speak louder.

Your hand with the key hovered next to his shoulder, but he was no longer interested. Instead, he pulled your chin closer and your lips collided. The key fell onto the hood with a click as he grabbed you by the hips, lifted you onto it, and stepped between your legs. Your hands flew into his hair, pulling at it as your lips collided hard.

It was a fireworks display of passion, lust and desire. Pure heat gripped you and you hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, touching his abs, sighing into his mouth as he cupped your breasts, kneading them until you felt dizzy. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer

Desperately, he bit your lower lip until you opened your mouth a little. He let his tongue slip in and played with yours. His dominance made you melt like butter in his hands. His lips found their way down your neck, sucking on the crook of your neck as he pushed the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

"Shit... Jang-Do," you gasped, overwhelmed by the sudden excitement that gathered red-hot between your legs.

Your father would kill you both with his own hands. Jang-Do slowly and agonizingly, that was clear to him, and yet the idea that he was taking something that belonged to his boss fired him.

He pushed your dress down until your breasts sprang free and watched you for a moment. The cold air on your heated skin made you shiver. At your hips, the dress had ridden up so far that you sat with your bare ass on the cool hood. A red thong soaked between your legs.

"Such pretty tits... A shame I'm only seeing them now," he purred, and you gasped softly as he twirled your nipples between his fingers. Then he clasped a sensitive bud and sucked on it until you fell backward, clinging to his neck to stay even halfway upright.

He worked the soft flesh of your breasts with his mouth and kneaded the other breast until you felt dizzy and impatiently pressed your middle against his crotch.

"Jang-Do please!" you sighed, clawing into his chest. You could feel how hard he was. Even through the fabric of his pants.

"Please what? Use your words baby girl," he murmured in your ear, pulling lightly on your hair to press his mouth against your throat.

"Please fuck me. Please!"

You would have been embarrassed by the pleading otherwise, but right now, with him touching you in a way that made your body melt before him, you didn't care.

"Who would have thought? The little princess is a little whore...begging to be fucked by me," he murmured, stroking his fingers through your wet folds. Pressing his thumb on your clit, he murmured:

"Don't you think you should start by apologizing for making me work overtime tonight because of you?"

His eyes gleamed like those of a predator on the prowl. His jaw twitched and you would have done anything at that moment. He enjoyed the fact that the tough, untouchable girl looked pleadingly small with her big eyes, almost tearing up under his touch.

Quickly you nodded, gasping as he put more pressure directly on your clit and that's when he slid his index and middle fingers into your mouth. Greedily you sucked on it, circling it with your tongue as you would suck his dick and he grumbled:

"Fuck... You're way too sexy for your age."

Satisfied, you took his fingers all the way down your throat and bobbed your head until his pants were so tight it hurt.

"On your knees, princess!" he commanded, just as he commanded his employees, but with a hint of softness in his voice that immediately made you sink to the ground.

The sight made him tense as you knelt on your knees before him, tits out, lips plush and red, eyes sparkling with arousal.

He opened his pants, pushed them down along with his boxers, and sighed in relief when his hard dick finally sprung free.

You got wide-eyed, trembling at the size and doubting you could take it.

He took it in his hand, stroked himself a few times before saying with a slight grin:

"Suck my dick and maybe I'll consider fucking you senseless."

You put a hand around his base and first licked the bit of precum off his tip before licking the length of his massive dick once. He watched stunned as you wrapped your lips around his tip and began to move your head evenly. Each time you took him deeper until you were quietly gagging. The warmth and wetness of your mouth made him gasp and he buried one hand in your hair. The other landed on the hood with a loud clap as he guided your head to thrust deep into your throat. You couldn't breathe, his length teasing the back of your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as his speed increased and he thrust ruthlessly into your mouth. The little sinful noises you made, the choking, the whimpering only turned him on more until he fucked your mouth roughly, hand tugging your hair and he gasped deeply breathless.

"So good for me... Taking my cock like a slut. Fuck," he murmured, and you pressed your thighs together to soothe the moist heat a bit.

Your throat ached, as did your knees from the gravel floor, and yet there was this insatiable arousal. His curses became throatier and heavier as he was about to cum. He thrust deep into your throat a few more times until your nose bumped against the soft fuzz on his lower belly and you gagged with narrowed eyes.

Then he came and his hot cum shot into your mouth, leaving you gasping and struggling for breath as you swallowed it all.

He pulled his still rock hard dick out of your mouth with a plop and the corners of his mouth twitched as saliva and his cum made your lips glisten.

With his thumb he brushed away a few remnants and hummed animatedly as you licked them from his finger.

He offered you a hand and helped you back to your feet, where he gently brushed the sweaty hair from your forehead and removed the smeared makeup from under your eyes with his hands. The sudden caring was a strange contrast after he had just abused your face so violently.

But the heat between your legs was by now so unbearable that you whimpered softly.

He noticed how you rubbed your legs together, smiled knowingly and kissed your lips lovingly.

"For sucking my cock that well, you should be rewarded..."

Happily, you pressed against him and nodded.

"Do you want to be rewarded, baby girl?" he asked, running his thumb over your nipple.

"Yes, Daddy."

The words came over your lips without you knowing how he would react. Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and with satisfaction you felt his dick twitching uneasily against your belly. He liked the nickname.

"Don't worry, Daddy will take care of your pretty little pussy," he growled and everything inside you cried out in anticipation.

That's when he spun you around, pressing you fast and hard onto the hood so that your hands banged loudly on it. Until your butt was raised and he pushed your legs apart with one foot so he had a better view of the wet spot between them.

"You think you can take my big cock? Have you ever had one this big?" he asked, hungry and full of desire as he pulled your panties down until he finally had a view of your shiny hole. Rattling your breath, you propped yourself up on the car and shook your head.

"Never. Never been fucked by such a big cock."

He nodded slowly, stroking his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness until you gasped desperately. Then, without warning, he pushed two fingers into you from behind, began pumping them inside you, curling them so they hit your sweet spot each time. Gasping, you tried to see straight, but his long fingers were too good, too deep, for you to even think clearly.

"Fuck you're tight. I think I might be gonna break you..." he murmured, but sounded like he was looking forward to it.

You couldn't take it any longer, reaching your hips out for him to finally fill you up. You needed his dick as the air to breathe, which is why you breathlessly said:

"Please break me, Daddy! Ruin me! Have it your way."

He laughed softly, pumping his fingers inside you a few more times until you rolled your eyes with a moan. Then he put his tip to your entrance, teasing you by running it through your lips, and murmured:

"If that's what the princess wants, I can hardly refuse her wish."

Your head went blank as he sunk into you. Your body cracked in half and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he stretched you, painfully widening your walls while groaning loudly.

Your knees went weak, but he held you so tightly at the waist that you couldn't fall.

As he slowly pulled out again, and slammed into you again tears welled up in your eyes, and from your throat only ticked off sounds escaped you.

"You're crushing me.... Fuck..." he gasped, throbbing deep inside you.

"So... so big..." you moaned, and as he began thrusting fast inside you, the curses and words became an incomprehensible high-pitched mixture of sounds. Soon the pain mixed with pleasure and the night air was filled with the slap of his hips against your ass and the wet sound of your aching cunt coupled with your naughty noises and his muffled moans. Your cunt swallowed his length deeper and he never wanted to sink into another pussy again. Yours was made for him. Your body arched under him, your breasts pressed tightly against the hood of his car and his fingers so tight on your hips that imprints would be left by his hands. He thrust into you faster, harder, enjoying how your walls welcomed him and you crumbled beneath him.

Curses escaped him as you moaned his name like a mantra between the pornographic noises.

The coil in your belly ruptured with a loud pop and a wave of white pleasure swept you along. Your orgasm rolled over you like a tsunami wave, leaving you world fading and your body trembling.

Jang-Do cursed between clenched teeth as you nearly crushed him and after a few deep thrusts that made you see stars he came inside you too.

He extended his climax by thrusting sloppy into your sore pussy a few more times and then pulled his dick out of you. Strings of his white hot load pulled out of your cunt as it ran down your thigh and you remained motionless on the hood. Fucked out and cockdrunk. Your thoughts only returned in shreds. Control of your body only much later. You heard him zipping your pants and looking at his handiwork.

"So pretty... Filled up with my cum," he murmured, catching what leaked out of you with his fingers to push it back into your hole.

You moaned and your fingernails clawed into the hood as he finger fucked his cum back into your cunt.

"We don't want to waste anything," he murmured, then helped you put on your panties and dress.

You still couldn't say anything, your head was buzzing too much and your body was completely wrecked. He helped you into the car. This time into the passenger seat and only when he sat next to you, slipping the key into the ignition, did you look at him. Your makeup was ruined, as was your hair, but Jang-Do could never look away. He had never seen anything more beautiful than your swollen lips, your tear stained cheeks, and the feathery expression from the orgasm that reverberated across your face.

"My dad will kill you if he finds out."

Your voice still sounded brittle, your throat felt sore.

He let the engine rev and pulled back onto the road.

"Then I hope he won't find out. But that's your decision."

His gaze was on the road, his handsome mouth contorted contentedly into a smirk. He placed his fate in your hands, just as you had revealed your soul and body to him. In doing so, he proved that he did not take it lightly. It had meaning. And he would pay with his life if it depended on it.

You nodded slowly and leaned back in your seat. The streets were empty so late and your eyelids grew heavy.

The silence was comfortable and you reached for his hand that lay loosely between you. Surprised, he gave you a quick glance as you placed it on your thigh, but then he closed his fingers around your soft flesh.

He accompanied you to your front door and gave you a curt nod before turning to leave, but you held him back by the arm. Questioning, he turned back to you and saw you smiling warmly.

With your hands firmly on his chest, you kissed him. It was more the promise of a kiss. Your soft lips feather light on his, barely a second before you pulled back and opened the door. Before you could disappear inside, your eyes met and your cheeks grew hot again.

"See you tomorrow," he said goodbye, memorizing every detail once more before the door would slam shut.

The line of your shoulders, the shape of your cupids bows, the shape of your legs under the hem of your dress.

Tomorrow you would meet again and today would never have happened. This was important to both of your survival and yet it didn't feel final.

"See you tomorrow," you murmured. Your voice sweet as caramel. He nodded curtly, turned, and before he could walk the long stone path to the mansion's exit, you stopped him once more:

"Jang-Do?"

He turned to you again, as he had so many times before.

"Huh?"

You leaned your temple against the door and said:

"Turn your cell phone on loud tomorrow night. You might have to work overtime again."

The corners of his mouth lifted slowly and he walked backward a few steps, a knowing gleam in his eye. Respectfully, he tilted his head and you thought you could really get used to the sincere smile.

"Understood."

You waited until he was out of sight and the engine of his car died away somewhere in the distance. Then you pulled the door shut, freezing as you felt the cool tiles beneath the soles of your feet.

A giggle escaped you in the darkness of the hallway as you realized you had left your shoes in Jang-Do's trunk.

--

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[whump-princess]

Hunted and cursed imagines/prompts

Biting into an apple and there’s worms in it.

Things go missing that you literally just saw two seconds ago.

You think you see a figure of a person in the distance.

A vampire sneaks up behind you and bites you. You pass out and wake up in your bed, it’s the same day again.

You find ashes in your pockets.

A tooth in your shoe, a pointed one like that of an animal.

All the coins you have are heads on both sides.

A mysterious rash appears on your body.

You look in the mirror and can’t recognize your self.

Your spoons and forks keep ending up bent. Really bent, all the way back.

Your suddenly afraid of things you were never afraid of before.

Your nails keep breaking and chipping.

You’ve got multiple new gray hairs popping up all over your head.

You suddenly can’t remember your name.

Someone smiles at you as they walk by but you could have sworn they had fangs.

Everyday there os a book on your porch, the doorbell camera doesn’t show anyone leaving it though. The titles all together reveal a secret message.

You keep getting letters written in code. P.S. it’s a vampire who’s is madly in love with you and is getting upset that you aren’t returning their letters.

Cats everywhere. All the cats in town seem to all hang out around your house. All the black cats that is.

You wake up and your hair is a completely different color, you didn’t dye it.

A witch turns you into a frog, someone kisses you to turn you back into a human but now your in a different human body. Where you just reborn?

Dead birds keep showing up on your lawn and you thought it was the stray cats in the area doing it. You haven’t seen the stray cats in months now that you think about it.

You have nightmares every time you sleep next to your new partner. Horrible nightmares about them.

Your partners apartment is extremely hunted, every time you go over something scary happens but your partners never seems to notice.

A motorcycle drives by every night at 3pm, you hear it, it’s loud, but you never see it.

Your on the train and the lights flicker and the only other passenger is suddenly in another seat… closer and closer to you. You move to another car, they are already in that one too.

Nosebleeds. You get them all the time now.

Your tattoo, the words are backwards.

Cats show up in your house, how do they keep getting in.

Your mail box is filled with valentines. It’s not Valentine’s Day, who are these from?

You get these emails, one everyday, it only contains one letter. combined they spell something.

Your suddenly allergic to your favorite foods. All of them.

You get sick and there’s butterflies in your stomach. Literally.

Something had been hurting in your chest, your ribs to be exact. After much complaining to the doctor your able to get some tests done, the X-ray shows a key in between your ribs.

Your an artist, no matter what medium you try you can only ever seem to paint, sculpt, draw, etc… the same person. A stranger you’ve never even met.

Your craving sugar, but it’s so bad trying to eat anything else tastes disgusting. Eventually you eat sugar straight from the bag.

All the produce in all the grocery stores in your town have rotted over night.

Your house is infested with butterflies.

You collect dead bugs, pin them into pretty picture frames, they decorate your wall. They’ve come back to life and are crawling around in their frames on the wall.

Someone keeps leaving voicemails about how great and cool you are and how nice you look… who is this and how do they know how I look?

Crows keep leaving you little shiny stuff. They bring you a ring, there’s dried blood on it.

Your plant is growing some suspicious looking fruits, you can’t find any information on them online. Taste test.

[daily-selfship-questions]

PEOPLE WITH THE UNUSUAL F/OS WHERE Y'ALL AT??? Seriously!! I'm SO scared to make a selfship blog about my f/o because I don't want folks to think I'm trolling or being ironic! Like, my f/o is LITERALLY RONALD MCDONALD. THE FRIGGIN SILLY CLOWN.

I GET SO NERVOUS TO EVEN SUBMIT ANY GUSHING POSTS BECAUSE LIKE- I FEEL SO CRINGE ABOUT THIS- EVEN IF HE MAKES ME GENUINELY HAPPY??? HELP??? PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A WEIRD F/O- Sorry for typing in caps, it is currently 2 AM and I need to y e l l.

(I'm not sure if this acc does these, but can I be Bow Anon? 🎀)

WOOO!!! If it helps at all, I selfship with P.ixar Cars characters, although I humanize them(not that everyone does) if you count that as weird at all!! I also know somebody who selfships with P.eepers from W.onder O.ver Y.onder so :) WEIRD F/OS FOR THE WIN!!

But for real I love this. I don't know if you've gotten this at all but now every time I see Ronald McDonald my brain is just gonna "I met somebody that knows him cough cough" JABDJSJDJS

But I'm a high supporter or weird/unusual F/Os. I try and make my posts as vague as possible so people with strange F/Os or F/Os that aren't human can also enjoy them :)

[spanishskulduggery]

In my lesson: "¿Se te olvida la respuesta?" or "Do you forget the answer?" It feels like there are too many pronouns at the beginning of that question, plus "olvida" looks like it's in third person (not formal, because it's "te" not "le"). Why isn't it just "¿Olvidas la respuesta?" What is actually bein asked?

This is actually very advanced grammar so bear with me

-

First: se has many uses; typically it's associated with reflexive verbs but it has other uses too

Verbs that take reflexives often end in -se or use se in them; there's lavar "to wash" then lavarse "to wash oneself"

But then some verbs take se as a way to show that the meaning of the verb has slightly changed.

Second: The se + indirect object + verb is part of "superfluous dative" and often comes up in dativo ético

What this basically means is that you're using dative [indirect objects] in a way that seems superfluous, but it does it to show a deeper meaning that is often translated into English as "different" than normal verbs

As an example, ir is "to go" and irse is "to go away"... the use of a se here is translated as very different from the regular ir .....some of them change meaning quite a bit; acordar is "to come to an agreement" while acordarse is "to remember"

...

The addition of the indirect object here also marks who is most affected by verb suddenly being weird. I explain it most often with romper:

Rompí el carro. = I broke the car. [feels intentional] Se rompió el carro. = The car broke down. [on its own] Se me rompió el carro. = "The car up and died on me." [superfluous dative; "the car broke down by itself... and it affects me"]

Though superfluous dative is an umbrella term, the idea of dativo ético or "ethical dative" refers to something I've seen translated as "a deep or profound and intrinsic value attachment that is shown to affect a person via the indirect object"

...Which is to say, "this thing happened (usually by itself or without it being anyone's fault) and it deeply affects them"

The deep/profound value attachment they mean is usually inconvenience or surprise... something unexpected and outside of someone's control

You'll see these expressions where "the bus up and left without me" rather than "I missed the bus" which assumes some kind of control over the situation; or you could see "my tooth fell out from me" instead of "I lost a tooth"

-

With olvidar you see this a lot too. People don't always use olvidar by itself as "to forget" because they sometimes see it as being purposeful

You often instead see olvidarse where it's part of that dativo ético... No reason for it to have the reflexive but people would rather say me olvidé (de algo) which comes out like "I forgot all about it" rather than "I (decided) to forget" as olvidar

THEN you get se me olvidó el libro "I forgot the book" which is literally "the book forgot itself to me"

This is the se + indirect object + verb; but keep in mind the olvidar is conjugated according to the object:

Se me olvidó la respuesta. = The answer slipped my mind. Se me olvidaron las llaves. = I forgot my keys.

For your purposes with olvidar it will be:

Se + me/te/le/les/nos/os + olvida + la respuesta

Or in plural it would be the above + olvidan las respuestas

I translate it a lot like "to slip one's mind" rather than "forget" because it feels more passive and helps people understand it more; "the answer slipped my mind" rather than "I forgot the answer"

But both are viable translations, if that makes sense

...

In other words:

se me olvida (la respuesta) "I forget (the answer)", se te olvida "you forget", se le olvida "he/she forgets" or "you (usted) forgets", se les olvida "they forget" / "you all (ustedes) forget", se nos olvida "we forget"

Or you could say "the answer slips (someone's) mind"

Or use se me/te/le/les/nos/os olvidan for plural for "they slip (someone's) mind"

-

I'm sorry this was a lot to unpack and understand and trust me this is not the sort of thing that you get taught in classes

If there's anything that didn't make sense, let me know and I'll try to explain it more

[shibalatte]

catch me crying over an ofrenda for a fucking car guys. bc thats my buddy's wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@literally-a-waffle-fry its literally heartbreaking. it pulls at my heart strings. i cant even imagine that sort of shit showing up with any of my f/os. owie

[hesitantvampirealien]

explaining random shit and a few not so commonly translated cuss words we say here in brazil

foi de base - death, to die

example: fulano foi de base (the guy went to base) - meaning the guy died

slang that originally came from brazilian League Of Legends players that refers to when you die and return to the base. Literal translation of "foi de base" would be like "went to base" or something but it's kinda complicated to translate because the "foi de" part means like "went as (something)" or "did the (something)"

foi de base can also be derived into different versions in which you can switch the word "base" for literally any word of your preference. Popular example: fulano foi de arrasta pra cima (john doe went to swipe up. Yeah i know, it's just not as funny in english but it's funny in portuguese, i promise)

tankar - to tolerate

intankavel ("untankable") - intolerable, insufferable

examples: não da pra tankar os carro feio do elon (i can't tank elon's ugly cars), o carro feio do elon é intankavel (elon's ugly car is untankable) - meaning you can't tolerate elon's ugly cars

slang that comes from the term "tank" from *i believe* World of Warcraft (please correct me if i'm wrong about the origin of the term) and also used in Final Fantasy, meaning a character that has a high HP count or a high resistance to attacks, usually a character meant to lure in enemies during multiplayer sessions so other players can attack the enemies that are too focused on trying to take down the tank character (i feel very represented by this term as a Final Fantasy player who has a tank miqo'te /j)

bostil + intankavel o bostil

bostil - fusion of "bosta" (shit) and "brasil" (brazil). Slang used specifically to refer to brazilian hardships that are strictly related to the country itself and its issues.

intankavel o bostil - (see "tankar", "intankavel") Slang used to criticize anything if you're brazilian, can be used both to criticize specifically brazil issues or if you're just a brazilian person complaining about anything in general. Does not require to be anything strictly related to brazilian struggles and can be used ironically but is commonly used that way. Still considered appropriate to be only used by brazilians.

vai chupar um canavial de rola - go suck a sugarcane field of cocks

you basically just tell someone this if you're pissed off, it's self explanatory

olavo, olavo de carvalho, olavo de caralho - skull, skeleton, death, dead person (this one has a bigger context)

example 1: foi de olavo (see "foi de base") - means the person died

example 2: olha o olavo aí *aponta pra uma caveira ou esqueleto* (look at the olavo *points at a skull or skeleton*) - means you're, well, looking at a skull or a skeleton.

"olavo" refers to a brazilian """philosopher""" (my ass) named Olavo de Carvalho who passed away 2 years ago (almost 3 years now! happy deathday olavo!) and he was just not a good person so that's why we make fun of his death here. Olavo was not only a flat earth believer but also a covid denier (he literally died from covid) and, well, he was basically a fascist. Good riddance

Olavo de Caralho is a pun with his last name "Carvalho" (oak), but "caralho" means a whole variety of cuss words (fuck, cock, etc. It can mean a lot of stuff)

broxa - a type of brush, person with erectile dysfunction (PLEASE don't ever call someone this because it's super degrading unless they're an asshole)

broxa was originally a type of brush, a short and more tougher brush.

broxa is a derogatory term used to refer to a person with erectile dysfunction and can be a verb like "broxou" which refers to a dick going soft too early

broxa can also be used if you're disappointed at something.

example: eu fiquei broxado com o final desse filme (my dick went soft at the end of this movie) - means you were disappointed at the end of the movie you watched

viado, bicha - faggot

here we actually use "viado" and "bicha" the same way english speakers use "bro" for example, but it's much more appropriate to use this slang when you're queer yourself, otherwise it's seen as inappropriate or even homophobic

prikito, priquito - pussy

comes from the word "periquito" (parakeet)

você pinta como eu pinto? (pun)

the translation to this one won't make sense at first, but basically it's like a little joke with the sentence "você pinta como eu pinto" and "você pinta com meu pinto" which are pronounced the same way. the first one means "do you paint like i paint" and the second means "do you paint with my dick" and it's like a little thing you trick people into saying "yes" or anything like that

se eu cozinho todo mundo come (pun)

same type of joke as the previous one. "se eu cozinho todo mundo come" (if i cook everyone eats) has the same pronunciation as "seu cuzinho todo mundo come" (everyone eats/fucks your ass)

list might grow in the future lol

edit to add one that i absolutely love:

nem fudendo - no fucking way

used when you can't believe something someone said

used as a more aggressive replacement to "no"

[platonic-qpr-selfshipping]

something something me always daydreaming of going to wherever my f/os stay at or frequent that is their own space. their office. their own room. their flat. their car. where they work at.

small writing piece that came out of a dialogue bit i thought of in the middle of class XD so no title nor anything, just Sasara and me being friends even during hard times

warning for uhhh cursing. and a bit of angst, i suppose

"That's..." Sasara took a moment, processing the whole story while staring at his drink. His eyes closed as if he needed a break from the truth. "Damn. Shit."

N chuckled from the other side of the sofa. One hand playing with their glass of water, the other searching for its own nails in a nervous gesture. At least everything was out now. At least his friend now knew —and even acknowledged— how their life had been for those past days.

Just that fact alone felt like a pat on the shoulder.

"What's up with the sudden cursing?" they asked, letting out another chuckle before emptying their glass.

"I know you are not going to say anything like that, so let me do all the cursing for you," he justified, bringing a hand to his chest, although his expression serene. "Fuck. Literally what the fuck. That's some hell to make you go through for no reason at all. Fuck all of that."

N's laughter became a bit louder after hearing their friend let out all the frustration like that. It was a bit absurd yet comforting in a way, to see all those unexpected words come up just because... he cared about them.

"So yeah, I just wanted to express how much it means to me that you let me be here from time to time. Even if that means to stay for the night sometimes. I'm very grateful to have you, and for you to accept me here at your place when I need it the most."

Sasara stared at them in silence. After a few seconds, N raised their eyebrows and tilted their head, wondering if their words had felt out of place somehow. Then, the comedian got up from his cushion on the floor and plopped by their side, head slowly getting comfortable on N's shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

N's body relaxed. A sigh escaped their mouth. "Yeah... I still got a few months to go, but you make it easier. Don't worry too much."

He groaned, his expression not being visible to N due to the position they were in. Sasara feared he was understanding N's feelings as if they were his own— they reminded him of a pain that he thought was long gone.

"Ugh. You know, sometimes...", he spoke after N rested their head on his.

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes, life is about surviving. And it's not pretty, but it's the only way to keep walking."

The sun had started to set, N realised. And with them —Sasara's words, the sunset—, a soft smile was drawn in their face.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: Soldiers (Punisher Annual #2: Knight Fall)

You guys. YOU GUYS. 

I am so excited to bring you this next one for SO MANY REASONS. 

The first reason is that this is the FIRST Moon Knight comic I ever read. 

And this comic os pure WTFer set off an obsession that has directed the course of my life for over ten years now. 

Marc Spector: Moon Knight

Punisher Annual #2: Knight Fall. 1989

Written by: Mike Baron

Art by: Bill Reinhold

Gerbil: Tom DeFalco

(Tom is the editor in chief for Marvel at the time) 

We got ourselves a Punisher Annual with a Moon Knight guest appearance! 

Now I’ve talked about guest appearances again and again and again. It usually means that the guest star is going to show up HUGE on the cover with some dramatic depiction in an attempt to lure in more new readers to the title comic. 

But look at this comic cover. This isn’t Moon Knight showing up to save the day or in a little blurb bubble or box. He’s battling Frank! This looks more like a cross-over style comic! Those always depict the main character FIGHTING the other guest star! And damn if this cover isn’t amazing. Look at those two locked in close quarter combat! And that dagger! This might be a Punisher comic, but Moon Knight isn’t about to roll over! 

Now, as we all have come to expect, when you have a crossover for the first time, the two characters always spend the first couple pages fighting in some misunderstanding before they make up and team together to fight the real bad guys. But Punisher takes no quarter and Moon Knight is grumpy at best. 

Alright, so we open up on a Long Island Petshop where a Mr. Morton is purchasing Gerbils for their kids. 

For those that do not know, a Gerbil is about the size of a large mouse with a long tufted tail and kangaroo like hind feet. They're fast, bite hard, and are fun. (I used to own them as a kid for many years and loved them).

 They actually aren’t that well known, even though you can always find them in pet shops next to the hamsters. I wonder why they chose gerbil over say, mice or rats or hamsters. I get the feeling there was some inside joke among the writers here. 

…..Oh. 

Snake guy. Got it. 

MARC. 

Marc… “That man just ate a gerbil! Why does it set off all my emergency alarm bells?” 

Marc… 

So... After that... Marc calls up Frenchie on his radio and tells him that he's tailing a car and gives him details on the vehicle. 

"Oui, Marc, what's up?" 

"I'm not sure... Maybe nothing." 

MARC SPECTOR. You just watched a man eat a gerbil in a pet shop....WHOLE. What do you mean 'Nothing'?!

He tails the car to an old run down mansion . 

"That's the old Borgwardt estate--It's been taken over by something called Save Our Society... Time to head home." 

Frenchie confirms the car info with Marc. It is registered to the SOS non-profit agency that is privately funded by physicians. 

"Sort of an east coast version of the Betty Ford Clinic. Why would a man eat a gerbil?" 

Marc… You have fought werewolves. You fought a literal rat king. We’ve seen you fight ghosts and get your ass handed to you by a snake. 

AND WHAT ARE YOU WEARING!? Does Steven know you’re wearing his clothes? 

He asks Frenchie to dig into the petstore's files and get him a credit card for the guy that ate the gerbil and an address. 

Meanwhile, we meander on over to the star of our show: 

"Punisher's War Journal-- I've been on the trail of Ralph Newton, a junkie who makes a living ripping off old ladies' social security checks. Two weeks ago he pushed a seventy year old woman down a flight of stairs and she died. Newton seemed to have disappeared, butt now I have a lead--This shooting gallery in the Bronx." 

For those of you unaware of the Punisher, here's a brief howdy-do for you! 

The Punisher, AKA, Frank Castle. Originally a VietNam vet who came back with a little PTSD. His family (wife and child) were murdered by the mafia and Frank decided he'd had enough of evil in the world. He makes it his life's work to hunt down and kill anyone that makes it a living to hurt people. 

Historically, the other heroes (ESPECIALLY DareDevil and Captain America) despise Frank and often rally the other heroes to try to hunt him down and stop him from continuing his war on crime. 

He got his start in a Spider-Man comic of all places and branched out from there. 

Frank is a pretty gruff and serious man and depending on who is writing him and what series you are reading, he can be pretty violent. 

War Journal was a very popular series where he drives around in his Battle Van and writes about his missions. It works nicely because Frank isn’t much of a social man. So if you rely on the story conversations, like in all the other comics, you aren’t going to get much. But having him writing things down in his journal you get a beautiful narration that reads like a Noir film and you also get a fantastic way to get to know Frank and how he thinks. I appreciate it. 

Often when Frank meets up with other heroes, there is a fight with them telling him he's wrong for killing and them eventually trying to stop him. 

Now, we know he's going to meet up with Marc in this. And I am so excited for you guys to see this epic encounter. 

So we see Frank in his usual attire walk up to a safe house and knock on the door. 

He gets the guy to open the door posing as a seller. 

Yeah. By now, everyone knows what it means when they see that skull design. 

"Junkies. I swear they don't feel pain. You've got to break something before they stop coming at you." 

Frank shoots all but one. He tells the remaining guy he's looking for Newton. 

Lucky for the junkie he says he last saw Newton going into a rehab clinic saying he was going to get straight. 

So Frank heads up to the clinic. It's a Save Our Society clinic. 

"The place reeks of sweat and stale cigarettes, ashtrays filled to overflowing." 

Man that's good Noir. 

Frank walks up to the main desk (in his street clothes, which just means he put on a turtle neck and a coat). 

"Department of social services. I'm here to verify our use of federal funds." 

"I'm sorry, sir. There must be some mistake. This clinic is privately funded --we receive no federal funds." 

"*SIGH* Sounds like another department screw-up. Could I speak to your director?" 

(What works about this is that no one actually knows what Frank Castle looks like! He doesn’t need a disguise. Everyone knows him by what he wears. They see the giant skull and the guns. It WORKS. And Frank is surprisingly good at acting. He knows the system.) 

He's told that the director isn't in. She's Leona Hiss. (Hiss? Really? We're going there?) 

Frank heads to get info from Microchip. Hey! Microchip! I missed him! 

Microchip was Frank's old tech guy. He was the man in the van that would give Frank info and hack into things for him. 

I'd say they were good friends...But Frank doesn't have friends. I'd give you spoilers on what eventually happens to Microchip but... It's kinda a BIG spoiler and maybe someone here wants to head on over into Punisher land. So I'll leave it at that. (I came to Moon Knight from Punisher land. It was all thanks to this crossover comic… so I guess their ploy really does work sometimes.) 

Anyways... Microchip looks up this Leona Hiss person. 

A widow of an anesthesiologist who started the clinics to help drug addicts. He goes on and on and tells Frank it "Smells like a smoke screen. All her life, the lady shuns publicity. Now all of a sudden she's a big philanthropist?" 

Man, look at that light and shadow in the first panel. This art team is amazing. 

Frank sets up position on a roof across from the clinic. 

"Clock Street's eerily alive at two A.M. I see a knife fight, several drug deals...Lights are burning in the clinic but no one's entered or left. There are guards on the roof. Better move.

I take position a block away, behind the clinic. I can easily make my way back over the rooftops--Nobody's watching back here. Overhead, a faint Whoosh. Some kind of high-tech chopper." 

Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy. 

(This art. This art is SLAYING.) 

Oh man. Look at this meet up. Frank and his shotgun, Moon Knight facing him down. 

They know who each other are! Every time Moon Knight meets up with someone he has to introduce himself! No one knows who he is! But Frank knows him. And Moon Knight doesn’t call him Frank. He knows who he is dealing with. 

Oh man, that cover called for such an epic showdown. Both ex-marines. Both know how to handle themselves. 

Uh. 

“I presume we’re both interested in Save Our Society.” 

“Right this afternoon I saw a man eat a gerbil. He came from here.” 

“What’s his name?” 

"Helmut Snead. He used a solen credit card. Six feet, brown eyes, scar above his left eye." 

"Ralph Newton--A Junkie Murderer. What's he doing on Long Island?" 

"I don't know--But he didn't look like a junkie. I want to know how he got out of the South Bronx and into a fancy clinic." 

"How would you take this guy out?"

WHAT IS HAPPENING. 

This is incredible. You have no idea. 

Frank doesn't have friends. Frank doesn't do team-ups. Frank is brutal and tells it like it is. 

And this isn't Frank being the victim to a new writer making nice in someone else's ball park. This is a PUNISHER comic. Moon Knight is the visitor. 

And on that note... MARC doesn't have friends. MARC doesn't play well with others. We literally just came off of him being a part of the West Coast Avengers and leaving because he doesn't team well! 

And here these two are, meeting for the first time and being BFF. 

In fact, the fact that they already know who one another is despite never meeting means that they have heard others talk about them. And when people talk about the Punisher or Moon Knight, they generally don't have good things to say! 

So these two heard "Yeah he's a brutal lunatic" they went "I gotta meet this chap." 

I can't stress enough how amazing this is. 

Frank is even asking Moon Knight to show how he'd take down a guy. He wants to see how Moon Knight works. And Moon Knight is letting Frank go first. 

THIS in itself is amazing. Why? Because we have two highly skilled specialists from a high combat militarized zone that were both known for ambush settings and traps. 

They know everything about this building isn't reading right, they have seen some guards and they don't know what's going on inside. So they are essentially walking into an unknown through a closed space doorway into a stairwell with numerous blind spots and possibilities for traps/ambushes. 

If it were anyone else, Marc would go first to clear the way and possibly take that first hit because he knows he can take it. 

BUT. If you REALLY look at it, Frank is older than Marc. Frank went to 'Nam. Frank has been at this longer and has turned New York into his own personal jungle. 

He offers Frank the lead out of respect AND because he knows and Frank knows that if anything is out of the ordinary, Frank will spot it FIRST and deal with it. 

This is grade A military tactics and my lord it’s beautiful. 

And you know what? 

Frank’s history is that he was team leader. And when Marc gives him lead, Frank takes it and Marc RESPECTS him. They are both used to working in this sort of setting. 

And when you think about it, Marc was NEVER the leader. He followed other people. Bushman was his leader. Marc joined other groups and let other people tell him what to do. If he didn’t like it, he went off and joined a new group. 

So when Frank says “Hold it….!” he is treading Marc like an officer under him and he has now automatically accepted Marc as following him and thus putting him under his protection. This is beautiful. I could wax on about this all day you guys. 

Uh… Back to the comic. So… Frank spots a Black Mamba that’s sluggish from being in a cold setting. 

Marc makes light chatter (he’s kinda of a goof and light chatter is what he does.) Frank quiets him. He knows there’s trouble ahead. 

In the next room, we find a junky going through withdrawal and begging the doc to hurry up. 

The 'doctor' injects him with something just as Frank and Marc bust in. 

"Hello, Ralph. I didn't know you had a license to practice medicine... And only last week you were a lousy junkie..." 

"Punisher!" 

"Drop the needle." 

"I don't think so.... SSSST!" 

And the 'Doctor' suddenly has a snake tongue and snake eyes. 

This bodes well. 

Frank opens fire on his target and it hardly phases him. 

"What have we stumbled into? They move slowly but they don't feel any pain." Moon Knight calls out while pummeling one of the snake guys. 

"It's the cold. [....] Reptiles. The colder it gets, the slower they move. You saw Ralph eat a gerbil--Snakes eat gerbils. This place looks like a herpetology lab." 

Very astute Frank. 

They manage to take down all the snake guys and Moon Knight asks if he recognizes any of them. 

Frank recognizes a couple of them as crackheads and various junkies. 

They find Ralph to be a card carrier for S.O.S. 

"Last week he's a junkie with an armful of holes and this week he's front man for a fancy long island cure club." 

"I think we know where to go next. Why don't you come with me in the chopper?" 

"Thanks, I will." 

(WHY ARE THEY SO POLITE TO ONE ANOTHER. IT'S SO OVER THE TOP.) 

So... Frank takes a ride in Marc's chopper. 

"Nice set-up. How do you keep the engines so quiet?" 

"It's a new kind of fiberglass packing." 

And they arrive back at the mansion. 

"Come on in--I've got a war room. We'll do a little digging." 

"This place is a little ostentatious, don't you think?" 

"There are so many private choppers flying in and out of the neighborhood nobody notices mine--Especially at night. The surrounding mansions and trees also cover our entrances and exits from the concealed hangar." 

I don't think that's what he meant by ostentatious, Marc. 

Inside, Frank, Marc, and Frenchie stand around a table with some maps. 

Marc tells Frank about the Borwardt estate he initially tracked snake man to earlier. 

"I ran a check on cult leaders and you'll never guess who was released from a federal prison last month--Viper." 

Frenchie tells Frank who Viper is. 

"She used to head up zat facist group Hydra, zen she went solo. She was busted in connection with the so-called snake riot in washington last year...[....] A mass hallucination where people believed they turned into snakes. I also learned that Viper was recently sprung from prison by a Dr. Tyrone." 

We head on over to SOS where we see a green lady, "Madam Viper". 

She is in a room of snake men who are 'newly converted'. 

They say they are hungry and Viper tells them that they have "a rabbit, five hamsters and a gerbil. We'll have to make another run to the pet store soon." 

She has a bit of a thing for hitting people with a whip and demanding that they all call her 'Madame Viper'. 

She is then informed that the other clinic was hit and that Newton is dead. 

She sends the new snake men out to the yard for guard duty. She's pretty sure SHIELD is out to get her. Which makes sense since she worked for Hydra. 

Unfortunately for her, it's far from shield. 

Overhead, we find the Moon Copter flying by and Moon Knight drops in with his cape and Frank drops in on a glider. 

The guards immediately open fire on them and Frank returns fire. 

FRANK. DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM. 

….I don’t know if I should count this as a window dive or not. It’s tempting. I’m not going to count it. He decides to abstain from window entrance for once. 

Unfortunately for Frank, he runs in without checking around and Marc isn't there to watch his six. 

Madam Viper jumps him and injects him with a serum. 

Now... Unfortunately for her... Frank has never responded well to drugs of any sort. He's got a history of this not going well for people that try to drug Frank Castle. 

He doesn't go down. 

In fact, it actually makes him go a little berserk. A berserk Frank Castle is NEVER something anyone wants to face. 

He’s doing fine. 

She makes a run for it. 

Elsewhere, Moon Knight is fighting his own snake man army. 

"Lets of gunfire and then it stopped! The time to start worrying about Punisher is when the gunfire stops.

Viper injects one of her larger helpers turning him into a very large and strong snake man. 

Moon Knight faces off with the big snake guy. His usual methods of just 'hit it as hard as I can' doesn't work. They don't feel pain thanks to the drugs. 

He's wearing a heat pack to keep him moving so Moon Knight decides to take this outside and....WINDOW! WE GOT A WINDOW! 

I mean… This one was legit. And he was exiting with a good reason… But I’m still counting it. 

Heat pack removed and out in the cold air, the lizard guy goes down easy. 

Moon Knight goes to find the Punisher now. 

He finds a room full of bodies and Frank in the middle having a lovely hallucination time. 

In the window outside, Marc watches a rocket thing take off with Viper escaping in it to fight another day. 

Marc manages to distract frank with his crescent darts, moving them around and letting the light reflect off of them in a hypnotic way. This lets him get close enough to take away Frank's gun. 

At this point, Frank calms down and the adrenalin that was coursing through his system and probably helping to stave off the toxic affects of the drugs wears off. 

Frank goes into convulsions and Moon Knight moves to get him out of there. Not to mention the cops are starting to show up and they need to leave. 

The cops have never been fans of Punisher (Despite what the right wing wants you to think when they put punisher logos on their giant trucks) and Frank has never liked the cops. Time to leave! 

Marc takes Frank back to his mansion and puts him to bed. 

I kid you not. 

This... This is a thing that happens a lot. He did the same thing to Jack Russel. Just... Take the drugged up guy home and let him sleep it off in his big bed in the mansion. 

Frank has a rough night, hallucinating and putting up a big of a fight but he sleeps it off. 

The next day, he wakes up feeling a bit better. 

And it ends here. Frank heading off to his next mission and Marc casual as hell as he watches his new buddy leave. 

Again I’m going to say it. WHAT. 

You don’t understand just HOW bizarre this issue was. ON BOTH SIDES. Frank was so…NICE… Marc was so amendable! They acted like long lost friends! WHAT WAS WITH THE CONSTANT REFERENCES TO GERBILS?! Why does Marc keep putting drugged up men in his bed? Why was he wearing Steven’s clothes? I have so many questions.

And from this casual weird encounter… An obsession was born. 

ALRIGHT. Let’s talk about why this works. (This is gonna get long. You can stop here if you don't want to hear me ramble and are just here for the comics).

In the Marvel universe (616), we have a lot of veterans of different wars. 

WWII has Captain America, Bucky, and Nick Fury

Vietnam has Frank Castle. 

Wolverine....a lot of wars. All the wars. Every war. 

Apparently Charles Xavier was in the Korean war (I didn't know that) 

Ben Grimm was in the Marines before his space accident (Awww. Another thing for him to bond with Marc over.) 

Then of course you have Carol Danvers who worked for the CIA in the cold war.

Rhodes (War Machine) who was in Afghanistan and Vietnam. 

There are a LOT of veterans of different wars and different time periods (Marvel time is a soup). 

The initial problem was which war. And this is where we are going to once more step onto the Drifting Pieces History soap box. 

We all know the saying “There’s no good war”. But that’s not right. Not according to politics and public opinion. 

To be a veteran of WWII was a noble and good thing. You fought a clear cut enemy, (nothing worse than a Nazi) liberated suppressed people, and most important, you came home a winner. 

What’s that? There was another war? In Korea? Never heard of that one. We totally didn’t go to Korea and fail miserably and we certainly aren’t going to talk about what happened over there. 

Oh look, Vietnam! The first publicly broadcasted war. Not like “The Whole World is Watching”. Oh no, the average citizen is suddenly getting their first look at what happens in war. Oh no, it’s not as nice and pretty as it’s supposed to be. No one talked about the atrocities that were committed by the good guys in WWII! And the Korean War certainly didn’t happen. 

This was the first war where American soldiers came home and were shunned. They were booed. They lost their jobs, lost their homes, and lost their families. Disgraced and forgotten by their country and their people. 

So we have nice shiny Captain America. A literal representation of the good of America and ideal soldier, punching Nazi and saving people in WWII. 

Then we have Frank Castle, a dirty soldier from Vietnam. I’m sure people screamed “Baby killer” at him fresh off the plane. What’s that? Frank served THREE tours in Vietnam?! He was the sole survivor of a huge ambush? He was awarded the Medal of Honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Navy Cross, Silver and Bronze stars, and four Purple Hearts? That don’t mean shit to the average citizen that only cares about two things: 1. We lost. 2. We shouldn’t have been there in the first place. 

So he comes home, one of the best Marines in the business, and he’s got nothing. 

He gets married to a sweetheart, has two kids (a little girl and boy), and settles in living an ideal life. A quiet life. Too quiet. Frank’s got a little PTSD going on and he was very good at what he did. He didn’t want to leave. He was good over there. He was respected. He was needed. 

But he’s doing the best he can. Until that’s taken away from him in an event he’d seen over and over again in war. Blazing gun fire and his family is gone. 

He gets revenge. But there’s a problem. He isn’t seen as a loving family man that takes down the people that murdered his kids and wife. He’s seen as a violent ex-soldier from Vietnam that’s gone crazy and is shooting up the place. 

They say that for Frank, “the war never ended. It just changed missions.” 

And all these other Heroes that are also veterans? They came from good wars. Captain America spouts speeches of being a Good Soldier at Frank. He doesn’t know what it’s like to question if the bad guy really is the bad guy. 

If Frank hadn’t of been such a family man, he would have made an amazing mercenary. The best there was. 

But then you have Marc Spector. He went to war to escape trauma. He was good. He was VERY good at what he did. And dollars to donuts, he heard about another Marine that was also very good named Francis Castiglione. 

But Marc could only be good so long as it wasn’t obvious that his mental illness was a thing. Even if he lied signing up for the military, when he took the jobs working for SHIELD and the CIA, they HAD to know about his history in the mental hospital. But the second he starts to dissociate in public, he’s kicked out. Can’t have a mentally ill person hanging out around all those weapons, right? I’m sure that’s what they told themselves as they kicked him to the curb. 

Marc could have gone home here. He’d have been a disgraced hero, sitting on the side of the road on a Veteran hat asking for change. But Marc was still running. He didn’t have a childhood sweetheart waiting for him. He had trauma. 

So Marc carries on the mission and he’s GOOD. And he’s a follower. He likes being told what to do. It prevents him from thinking and taking responsibility. If people get hurt, it isn’t his fault. 

Now Frank is very thorough. There’s a chance that the first time he hears about a new Superhero showing up in Manhattan he immediately looks into it. He’s got access to SHIELD info. He finds out who Marc Spector is and he sees another soldier that was let down by his country. Another soldier that was looking to make a wrong right despite how the war went. 

And Marc? Frank’s a hero. He’s tough. He does what needs to be done to keep people safe. Frank’s a leader and he takes care of his soldiers. 

They look at one another and see soldiers struggling to find their place here in the normal life again because they never HAD normal lives to begin with. 

Moon Knight is the only one who can probably understand where Frank is coming from and not judge him. 

Much later on in the comics, when Moon Knight is desperately trying to fit in with the Avengers and be a better hero, we see him come up against Frank again. Frank understands what Moon Knight is trying to do and he asks him if he really thinks it’s going to work. 

And despite how everything else was going in that particular run (a lot. A lot was going), it was a very real moment. Frank saw through him. I’ll get more into it later when we eventually get there. But man… These two together both make me so happy and also break my heart. 

ANYWAY. Uh… Long extended explanation over! I love this issue with my whole everything. 

This writer? This artist? Why couldn’t THEY have been the ones to take over the Marc Spector run? They get it! Look how pretty they make him! Look at all that cape action! 

They even get the dichotomy of Marc in this time. We may not have STEVEN, but did you see the way Marc was dressed in the mansion? How very Steven -esque. Even the way he treats Frank at the end there. 

UGH I could go on about this all day. I’m going to stop here before I write a dissertation. I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THIS OKAY.