#which like...wow I'd be so fucking done too???

[kason-nvidiade-art]

Contagion Ghost by KasonSama

More Ghost! This time infected, but...something about his eyes...he...he seems to be himself? No milky eyes like so many others in the hoards that attack, none of the his light is lost, just...he looks more resigned, saddened by what's become of him...

ANYWAY this was fun to paint, might go back to it and work more here and there, but right now, finished is better then perfect!

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[val-the-protoss-simp]

OKAY SO BACK AT THIS BECAUSE IM NOT NORMAL ABOUT IT It's about this guy. This lil shit:

A not-so-organised, not-so-comprehensive list of his clearly autistic traits that my brain just refused to see as autistic for the [checks watch] four years of his existence:

organised as fuck. Keeps all of his things, whether personal belongings or items in his office, in their place. Labeled, neat, has a thing for symetry and WILL grow irritated if someone messes that up or if he's prevented from keeping it that way. Has a whole-ass system for it, too. Loves structure, loves charts, loves predictablity, loves order, will make a 26648 page PowerPoint presentation with clear ciations and sources in an afternoon

doesn't have literal thinking in a sense of not understanding sarcasm or jokes, but has literal thinking in a sense of "reads out letters on an optometrist sheet when they ask if he can see them instead of just saying yes or no" and "if he's asked an area of time for his last employment on an interview sheet, he will meticulously think for specific dates instead of being general" and will also genuinely answer rethorical questions

very very blunt and doesn't tend to sugarcoat things nor does he beat around the bush about anything. If he wants to say something, he does so. But not necessarily because he's an asshole who doesn’t care if he hurts someone, but rather because he doesn’t care if others are blunt and upfront with him, so he tends to forget not everyone likes the same kind of treatment and also because he doesn’t see being blunt and upfront as something that could be seen as harsh or rude because honesty good?? No?? hahaha projection who?

this also means that he has trouble recognising when certain behaviour isn't appropriate and he's being mean or rude, even if doesn't intend to be and it's not uncommon he hurts someone's feelings with the things he says. It's also not uncommon for him to be misinterpreted by others because they tend to look at the hidden meaning his words have, something that is is simply not there. I always just assumed all of this was because he's so blunt and upfront that it confuses people and partially that's true, but also haha he has the tism and is confused himself about social interactions who would have thunk it-

to further this, he's not too keen on casual social interactions either. Definitely because he's on the introverted side of things, but also because he finds it exhausting to keep track of all the social cues and behaviour he has to uphold during conversations (Val, are you?? Stupid???)

has a small personal space bubble he'd like to be respected please and also don't touch him. Not unless you're like really really close to him and even then he'd like to be asked please

so. fucking. stubborn. A big inspiration for Aaron’s character were people who uphold incredibly extremist beliefs to the point of force and violence no matter what political side they stand on. Aaron was deeply radicalised by a set of events I will not be getting into right now, and definitely sees himself as whatever the SC equivalent of leftist/liberal there is (I hate those terms but ugghhh lets use them for the sake of this argument), to the point of seeing himself and the people who are a part of his organisation as martyrs/Robin Hood-esque figures, the righteous saviours of The PeopleTM, whether they like it or not. He wants freedom and equality for everyone, wants to overthrow and reform the government, but he’s the kind of person who will not shy from enticing violence if it means he can push people towards the agenda he believes and get what he wants. Which. Isn’t a great thing, I think we can all agree on this, no matter what end result he imagines this would have. Anyway, why am I yapping about all this? Because it’s context to the aforementioned stubbornness. Aaron will not budge an inch over the stance that He Is Right and if you aren’t with him, then you’re against him. He vehemently refuses to change his views and opinions in any way, have them challenged, or even agree that it’s not wrong if other people see things differently. This isn’t just about his political ideology btw, but it’s the strongest example I can offer. He’s terribly stubborn about a billion other things too, ranging from things like what way to make coffee is the correct way or how a mission briefing should be approached bla bla bla. And while this stubborness was originally written to be (and still is, even after this realisation, especially the political aspect of it) as a character flaw for him, stubbornness about shifting someone's opinions, ideology or even the way they make breakfast is also a very well recognised trait of autistic people

to add to this, he also has a very strong sense of justice but it's justice HE personally perceives rather than it being something society sees as justice. He has a very strong moral compass that he upholds and very rarely deviates from, has a strong desire for fairness and can become upset if he perceives an injustice, whether towards him or others. (This also reinforces the previous point about him being very stubborn in his views on ideology and politics and The Way He Does Things because if everyone did it HIS way then everything would be fine.) He also tends to hold grudges towards people who wronged him or others, even if it's over something seemingly insignificant hahahahahaha projection?? Who-

EDIT because I remembered this right after I hit post but another staple trait of his character is that he tends to Take A Long Time to properly disect and understand his emotions. He approaches his feelings like it's a city siege and carefully analyses his emotions from all angles before he draws a conclusion on how he feels, specifically because if he doesn't do this, he tends to get confused and overwhelmed with all the emotions he's feeling that are piling up within him because he's not processing them The Right Way and predictably this can have unpleasant consequences in forms of withdrawal and quiet meltdowns (Val how can you be so fucking blind IT'S RIGHT THERE HE HAS "AUTISTIC" WRITTEN ON HIS BIG BALD FOREHAD-)

furthermore, this guy hates change, but also kinda deals with it quickly instead of being stunned into paralysis by it?? He'll take change and act accordingly to it, but just because everyone else percieves him adapting well doesn't mean he's not screaming internally and/or upset about it (masking??? In front of my salad???)

FURTHERMORE he also has big trouble with 1) making friends and 2) letting go of people. Something that was a genuine surprise to realise when I started thinking about this is that throughout the story, Aaron never actually makes the effort to make people his friends, he sort of just *is* himself and then forms bonds with people who approach him and take the effort to befriend him, not the other way around. This is majorly because he just doesn't know how to, finds socialisation confusion and hates smalltalk. On the other hand, if someone he's close to suddenly isn't in his life anymore, whether it's because they cut him off or passed away or any other reason, he will borderline obsess over them, think about them constantly and generally will be unable to let go of the severed bond for a veeeeeeeeery long time HAHAHAHA PROJECTION WHO-

has a few specific areas of interest that he's disgustingly educated on and will yap your ear off about if you make the mistake of asking him about it. Wanna go through a sixteen hour lecture on the perception of neo-renaissance in Dominion architecture and the depressing shift to minimalism the recent modern era tends to glorify? Too bad if you don't, because it's not optional

sees food as "something I shove into my mouth because it's fuel for my body" and doesn't seem to be too excited about it but isn't inherently disgusted by certain dishes either? More like he shuts himself down into Robot ModeTM if he hs to eat something he doesn't like and just goes through the motions until it's over (MASKING WHO??? HELLO??????) unless it's about plain turkey sandwiches with mayonnaise that he could eat until the end of time and be happy about. Or tacos that he never misses when the HQ serves them at the messhall. He'll also be there early to make sure he can pick the good taco meat (oh my god OH MY GOD-)

No, I did not have a tiny breakdown about this. Shut up

these are more like discarded wips of his character because now there's other reasons for why he does this, but 1) one of the original reasons for why he didn't mind having metal arms was because having less skin to experience sensation with meant no terrible sensory things to get secretly upset over and 2) he keeps his head shaved for a different reason now but back in like 2021 when I was first flashing out his character, having any hair was like sensory hell to him and that's why he originally was as smooth as a dolphin aside from just eyebrows

also to nobody's surprise, asexuality is common with autistic people wow who would have guessed. Again, don't touch him

In conclusion: this is so fucking obvious it's painful and I am not sure if me not seeing this is because of my own masking and my own percieved shame over being neurodivergent that I feel like I have to repress and hide at any cost and pretend that it doesn't exist, that I have only recently started chipping away at and overcoming, or if I'm just so painfully oblivious to something in a "hidden in plain sight" kind of way??

Or it's just my own autism not catching on?? Wow, what do you mean that the character I, an asexual autistic person, project onto and write about a lot, turned out to be asexual and autistic?? Wild. Nobody could have predicted this. Fork found in kitchen

There were always signs

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[yoongsriverandme]

✩︵ 주문 — MIROTIC!

❝ You want me, you've fallen for me You're crazy about me, you can't escape me I got you under my skin (Ooh) … ❞

⤑ pairing: like crazy!park jimin x shy fem!reader

⤑ genre: smut, fluff, angst, rom-comy vibes, friends-with-benefits, s2l2f2l (they did some things out of order), idiots to lovers, college!au, fuckboy!au, reverse harem, mutual pining, "unrequited love," she fell first but he fell harder.

⤑ wc: 9.3k

⤑ summary: sleeping with your long-time crush was not how planned to confess your undying love to him, but if it was the only way you could be close to him then so be it. jimin's had a lot of lovers, and you're one of them, but why the fuck is he so bothered by the thought of you being with someone else?

⤑ rating: nsfw/explicit - proceed with caution!

⤑ warnings: fuck boy!jimin, popular "it" boy!jimin, shy "loser" girl!reader, lowkey toxic!jimin (i'm not sorry!), making out, bathroom sex, public sex, exhibitionism, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, A LOT of dirty talk, kinda shitty aftercare sorry, protected sex (pocket condoms 😓), JEALOUS jimin like holy shit, possessiveness, angst for a min, heavy pining, feelings realization, miscommunication, arguing, emotionally constipated!jimin, love confessions, angst with a happy ending (sorry nammy :/), not everyone gets a cameo this time sighs sadly.

⤑ date posted: march 9, 2025

⤑ authors note: HEY HEY HEY!!! bet you guys didn't expect this one!!! (i didn't either, random inspo struck me), but literally every single idea i've ever posted about IS sitting in drafts, and this one has been halfway done for weeks, so i figured i'd put it out there as i work on some of my other bigger pieces!

i ALSO just wanted to pop in here and say WOW, thank you so much for your support like... the feedback for my account has been phenomenal, and i want you all to know how touched i am!

with that out of the way, i hope you guys enjoy this fwb!au because wow was this a big one!

𓈒 ꪆৎ masterlist

⁘ preface: i only use bts as face claims! they are my muses, so anything they say or do, do not reflect their real life character!

The first time you ever talked to Jimin was when you had sex with him.

Now you know that sounds bad! 

But you had no idea what to do when he had come to you as you hovered awkwardly against one of the walls in the house party you had been forced to attend.

You were the designated driver for all intents and purposes, so the red solo cup that you had clasped in your hand was nothing but plain sprite, which was used as a mixer. 

‘Quite the devilish combination’ You couldn’t help but think as you swirled the carbonated liquid around boredly.

The room was stifling, filled to the brim with inebriated, sweaty bodies.

You were surrounded by sex, drugs and alcohol, some couples impatiently groping each other in the corner closests to you, and you forced yourself to look down, your cheeks warm at the blatant show of… affection.

It stunk, the music was too loud, and there were so many places you would rather be than here, like back home in your dorm studying, or watching an episode of your favorite show.

You didn’t fit into places like this, and you were one-hundred percent sure you had that fact stamped to your forehead.

The only pleasant part about this whole experience had been being able to see Jimin.

He was quite popular, and worlds away from you, but you couldn’t help but harbor a school yard crush on the pretty boy. 

He was just… tantalizing, with the way he spoke to the way he always held himself with a slight air of seduction. Boys and girls alike were ready to drop to their knees with so much as a word from the man, and you’re ashamed to say that you’re no different.

It was embarrassing, really, with how hard and fast you fell in love with somebody you barely knew, but he shared so much of himself, you felt as though you knew enough.

You know he’s funny, and kind, despite the… whorish, reputation that precedes him.

You’re in no place to judge, truly, because if he were to come up to you right now asking you if you would like to have sex with him, you would say yes.

“Lame party, right?” Sounds a voice from beside you.

You jump ten feet in the air, a bit of your drink spilling out over the edge of the cup as you fumble to keep the damn thing still in your hand.

“Uh – yes?” You answer with a slight grimace, your stomach drops to your ass when said host appears next to you.

Park fucking Jimin.

This was not what you meant! Not so suddenly! Not like this!

You stare at him dumbly as you spiral, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his plush lips.

“You think?” He asks teasingly.

You instantly stumble to recover from your mistake. “No! Yes, no, I… I just –” You’re blubbering like an idiot, and Jimin seems to take great pleasure at reducing you to a flustered mess, but he relents with a laugh.

“”M just kidding.”

“No! I just… I’m not used to going to this sort of thing.”

“Oh?” Jimin questions with a raised brow. 

You put your drink on the small refreshment table next to you so you can wring your hands together as a nervous tick.

“I’m my friend's designated driver for the night, and they knew I wouldn’t be doing anything, so…”

“That’s selfless of you.” He compliments, and warmth spreads from the roots of your hair all the way to the tips of your toes. “Ah,” You try to wave him off. “It’s… it’s nothing. I don’t mind.”

“But also that makes sense.” Your brows furrow. “What makes sense?” You ask.

He bombards your space, hooded eyelids giving you a once over.

You’re suddenly very aware of how dirty and scruffed your converses are, and you fidget a bit under his scrutinizing gaze.

“That you haven’t come to one of my parties before, because I’d recognize your pretty face anywhere.”

Your eyes widened.

Holy shit. Was he hitting on you?

“Oh!” You laugh nervously. “That’s… that’s very sweet of you.” You gulp.

His smirk only gets deeper, and he leans closer so that his breath caresses the shell of your ear. If his intention is for you to be able to hear him over the music, he’s doing beyond a wonderful job at succeeding.

Your eyelids flutter rapidly, and your hands shake, and you have no idea where to put them as you lean back slightly.

“What do you say we go somewhere else?” He asks with a purr, pulling away just enough to gauge your reaction to his proposition.

Now, you’re not an easy girl. Jimin may sleep with anyone he wants, but you’re just not into that sort of thing, and you know better than to –

“Yes, please.” It comes out as a slight whimper, but he hears you nonetheless, because he takes you by the hand and pulls you through the throngs of people.

Your stomach is tied up in knots, and you’re not even sure if you’re still connected to reality.

Instead of taking you upstairs and into his room like you thought he would, he redirects you into the hallway and into the door, and your stomach drops slightly when he turns on the light to reveal a bathroom.

‘It’s nice’ You try to convince yourself, but your train of thought is cut off when a pair of heavy hands lay themselves on your jean-covered hips, pulling you closer to his body and trailing his lips up the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches and you let out a small, “Oh.”

“Do you still want this?” He murmurs into your ear once more, and you find yourself nodding rather enthusiastically, much to your embarrassment. Jimin just chuckles.

He spins you around, and your eyes land on the slope of his neck that disappears into his leather jacket. Fingers tuck themselves under your chin and force you to look at him.

“You’re a shy one.” He coos, and you shiver when his thumb caresses the corner of your mouth, dipping into it just a bit.

“I’m not used to this.” You admit with a self-deprecating grimace. “What a shame.” Is all he says before tilting your head back and connecting your lips.

The kiss is soft, softer than you would have expected from your soon to be hookup.

You’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s rather ferocious with his kissing, with spit and teeth, but somehow still making sure it's nice for his partner.

He cups your wrists and guides your hands to tangle themselves in his black mullet, and you’re relieved to be able to do something with your hands.

A whimper escapes you when his palms press you to him by the lower part of your back, turning you to the nearest wall for balance.

Soon, the kiss turns hungry, and you can feel the strain of him against his tight black pants, and you tremble, like putty in his hands.

You try your best to keep up with him, kissing back with a lot more fervour than you’ve ever done before.

You’ve had sex once, and that was just because you wanted to lose it before college, just so you could say you did it.

It was awkward because it was with one of the guys from your English class, and he looked like he didn’t know what he was doing either. It was stiff and it burned, and you weren’t sure if you were even turned on enough to participate in penetrative sex.

Well, the same can’t be said for you now, because you can feel the material of your panties grow damp with arousal, sticking to your folds and causing slight friction.

It’s when Jimin finally rolls his hips into yours is when you finally let out a true, loud moan.

“Thought you were going to be quiet all night.” Jimin teases, and you flush. “I - I’m sorry.” You mutter against his lips. 

He pulls back and strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Relax. ‘M just teasing.”

“Right, right.” You laugh demurely.

He lowers his head to the skin of your neck where he takes the skin of it between his teeth, and your hips buck into his on accident.

“Shit!” You curse, and you slap a hand over your mouth. “You like pain.” He says almost to himself. “Definitely noted.” 

You’re not sure what he means by that, but your mind seems to blank when his hands sneak their way to the button of your jeans, fiddling with the metal. That cursed thumb presses into the skin above the hem.

“Do you still want this?” 

“Yes, please.” You whimper. Jimin grins and you can feel it, because he places a gentle kiss on the surface. “How polite.”

You swallow a whine at his praise.

He pops them open with practiced ease, and pushes a hand into your pants, hissing when he comes in contact with your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re this wet just from kissing?” He asks in awe.

Jimin finally finds himself in your panties and you gasp when the tips of his fingers press on your clit.

“There it is.” He says to himself triumphantly.

He’s quick to flatten his hand, replacing the tips with the pads of his fingers, drawing quick but fast circles over the pleasurable bud.

“Jimin!” You cry, and your nails rake themselves through his hair, drawing him into you.

You hold him close as he rubs at you, and his free hand keeps himself balanced on the wall just above your hand, completely enveloping you with his body.

“Feels so good.” You mewl, and he nearly growls.

“God, you’re so cute.” He groans.

He takes his hand away and your eyes furrowed in confusion. Was it something you said?

You don't have much time to think because you’re being spun around and bent over the counter, and you’re face to face with your debauched features. 

“Jimin?” You ask, but you’re cut off by him snatching your pants and underwear down your hips and they pool at your ankles. 

You threaten to turn a scarlet red when he spreads your legs as far as they can go and just stares at your sex.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He rasps and you shiver.

He looks up and meets your gaze in the mirror, making to take his leather jacket off.

“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers, then I’m actually gonna fuck you. Sounds good?”

“Amazing.” You squeak.

He presses his hand on your lower back to keep you anchored to the marble counter, while the other slips a finger in till he reaches the knuckle.

Your jaw drops in a silent moan, the slight stretch of it hurts for a moment, but your body soon adjusts to it, because he draws it out, no wonder noticing how it glistens in the dim lighting.

Then, he thrusts it back in, over and over and over again until a second one finds its place next to it.

The sounds that escape your cunt are disgusting, and you cross your arms to bury your head in them. 

You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, and when he curls his fingers just right, you all but wail.

“Found it.” 

He abuses your g-spot with a certain kind of cruelty, and an arm slips out from under you to scratch at the surface of the counter. Of course you don’t leave any marks, but the bluntness of your nails make it a makeshift anchor to this earth.

“Just listen to you.” He huffs. “She’s so sloppy.”

“Don’t – don’t say that.” You whine in humiliation. 

“Why not?” There’s amusement in his voice, and you hate how it makes another of arousal leak around his digits.

“‘Cause that’s dirty.” 

Jimin laughs. He actually fucking laughs and all you can think about is crawling into a hole forever.

“There’s a lot about me that’s dirty, sweetheart.”

You shake at the nickname, and he notices.

“Oh? You like it when I call you that?”

The condescension in his voice pushes you closer to the edge, and you can feel that familiar knot form in your stomach, the one you’re only able to create by yourself.

You clench around him and he gawffs.

“It seems like I’m not the only one that’s dirty.” He remarks. “What else should I call you?” He acts like he’s thinking as he twists his wrist into you without mercy, your legs shake.

There’s tears threatening to stream down your face.

“Hm. What about babe, or baby? Oh! Better yet, how about darling? Hm? Would you like that darling?”

Hearing him call you such sweet names does something to you, because before you know it, you’re catapulted over the edge. You spasm around him, and he just hums.

“There you go, good girl. That’s it.”

You shake as you come down from your high, and there are hands stroking the outside of your thighs, up your hips, and back down again.

Your eyes flutter open from where they squeezed themselves shut to find he’s already looking at you. His gaze is dripping in dark black molasses sticky with lust and want.

“Can we keep going, or are you at your limit?” Jimin checks in ever so gently. 

It makes you feel good knowing that he likes to make sure you know you’re still in control, and despite just having orgasmed, you find yourself painstakingly empty.

“‘M really good.” You slur, and a proud smile takes over his face.

He fumbles with the back of his jeans, and retrieves his wallet where he pulls out a condom from it. You eye it warily.

“I just put it in there yesterday, I promise.”

He makes work of his jeans, and you notice that he’s so so hard, and you almost feel bad for the poor man. Almost being the keyword, because when he releases himself from the confines of his boxers, you gape.

He’s averagely long, maybe even a little moreso, but god, is he thick.

He catches you staring and winks.

“Think you can take it?” He pokes and you huff. “Of course I can.”

He raises a brow at you, but rolls the condom on in a tortuously slow pace.

“Hurry up.” You whine, and he swats your ass.

“Be patient.” He chides with a hiss, but you’re still reeling from the sting of the slap to even comprehend what he just said.

Jimin settles a hand on your shoulder, the other helping him line himself up to your sopping wet entrance.

“Ready?” 

“Mhm.”

You both watch each other as he splits you open on his cock, and his head falls back as he groans through his clenched teeth.

“Oh!” You quiver on his length, reaching back to grab one of his hands and breathing out a sigh of relief when he meets you halfway.

He’s twitching inside of you, and you appreciate the few moments to gather your bearings.

“Move, please.” You mewl, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen to you.

Jimin drags himself out, breaking your eye contact to look down at where you’re wrapped around him. You’re so wet, the velvet of your gummy walls are making him feel a little faint.

Then, he thrusts back in until his hips are to your ass, and then he repeats, just for a few slow moments before picking up the pace.

The hand on shoulder pulls you down to meet his thrusts, and you cry out.

“Shit, Jimin!” 

“I know, I know – Fuck, you feel so good.”

His plowing is brutal, the tip of his cock spearing and bullying your g-spot with a pace that you can’t quite keep up with.

He releases your shoulder to grab each arm to help his leverage, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You’re sure you’re drooling, but you can’t find much shame in it because it feels so good.

You know that Jimin has ruined you for anybody else, mind, body, and soul, and you’re not sure how you’re supposed to escape him now.

His grunts and groans are guttural, and you know he’s close. You encourage him by clenching around him.

“God – what happened to the shy girl I met in the living room, huh?” He pants. “All I see now a cock hungry slut.”

You let out a surprised moan at his words.

“Oh, yeah? You like when I call you that? Like when I let you know exactly what you look like?”

“Y-yes.” Is your garbled reply.

“Aw… is my baby too cock drunk to even respond?” Jimin tuts meanly. “That’s okay, because I’ve got you, right?”

He’s giving you whiplash with the mix of his words, and you miss the way he calls you his baby.

“Oh, shit I’m close.” He announces. “You gonna let me cum in this tight little cunt of yours?”

“Mhm! Mhm! Gonna –” You hiccup. “Gonna let you do whatever you want.

That seems to soothe something possessive inside of him because he finally cums, and the pulsing of him against that spongy spot inside of you grows to be too much, because you follow right behind him.

It’s quiet in the bathroom as you both stop to catch your breaths, but he pulls out after a few moments of silence, tying up the condom and tossing it into the trashcan next to the toilet without a care.

“You okay?” He asks as he makes to pull up his jeans, and you’re kind of just… stunned.

Is that it?

“Uh… yeah, I’m alright.” You try not to let the disappointment show on your face as you reach down and tug your pants on as well.

Your arms ache from the strange position they were forced into, as well as your stomach from where it had been digging into the ledge of the counter.

“Good.” Gently pushes you out the way so he can wash his hands.

You just stare at him flabbergasted, kind of at a complete loss at what to say.

Do you ask what you are now? Did this mean anything? Were you just another hookup? Were you –

You’re cut off by soft lips meeting yours, and your stomach flutters something pleasant.

Maybe he did like you back and this was a complete misunderstanding, maybe he –

“Call me if you’d like to have some fun again, yeah?”

He speaks against your mouth.

Somehow he’s managed to scribble down his number and hand it to you, which you take somewhat blindly.

He’s already out of the door before you can blink, sending you a cheeky wave as he disappears into the crowd once more.

Your experience with him already feels like a dream when one of your friends drapes themselves over you.

“Finally found you!” She says with a giggle. “Where were you? Me and Sana have been looking everywhere.”

You cringe as you remember your duty, but before you can respond, her nose scrunches up.

“God you stink. Did you have sex?” She asks in disgust.

“No.” You say with a few blinks. “It’s probably because of the party.”

“Oh… okay.” She giggles.

You’re ashamed to say you’ve met up with him a few times after that, finally having the courage to give him a call after a particularly hard day of finals.

He sure did fuck the stress out of you.

This wasn’t how you imagined yourself finding your way into his world, but if sex was the only way you could have him then so be it.

But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He still met up with other girls, still blew you off, still kept you as a secret from his friends. You were just another notch on his bedpost, and it made you almost sick to think about.

Time spent with him after sex was just… confusing.

Someday’s he would allow you to stay over afterwards, maybe even asking you to watch a movie with him, or sometimes he would talk around you leaving until you eventually caught the hint.

It was such a push and pull relationship, and you had no idea what all of this was for.

Were you friends? Acquaintances? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits?

You had no idea what you were or who he wanted to mean to you, but it was slowly ripping you apart.

He had invited you to another party after a particularly long session, and maybe it was just the sleepiness in him talking, but it almost sounded as if he wanted you to be there.

He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, the black of his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat.

You nibble on your lip, tugging the duvet up to cover your bare breasts.

The tips of his fingers graze your arm gently even though his eyes were closed, and goosebumps rose under his ministrations.

It was moments like these that you grew fond of because of how few and far in between they were, when Jimin allows that vulnerable side of his to peek through. You found him beautiful.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when the muscles in your neck protested the awkward angle.

You could count every freckle on his cheek, every eyelash he had, and you had to bite back a smile at the sight of his crooked front tooth peeking out through his swollen plump lips.

“Mm.” He groans, and forces himself to crack an eye open. 

Your eyes flutter in embarrassment at almost being caught, but he seems none the wiser. 

“(y/n).” Jimin mumbles. You find a way to wind your arm around his neck, settling a hand in his hair, rolling the ends of the damp strands between your fingers.

“Come to this party ‘m throwing.” Jimin slurs.

You finally allow yourself to smile then. “Why? I’d like to think last time was a bit of a mess.” You tease. He just grumbles. “Never feels like a mess when I’m with you.”

Your smile quickly falls.

It was crowded once again, but you felt a sort of superiority at your fucked up relationship with him.

You went searching around for him; maybe you guys could actually talk this time! Maybe share a beer and talk about your favorite music!

Your body thrummed with all the different types of things you could do when you found him, but not in the way you wanted.

He had another girl pushed up against the wall, just like he had you in the bathroom on that fateful day.

‘But he wasn’t kissing her how he had kissed you’ You tried to reason with yourself, even as tears began to form in your eyes.

This was embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing.

You were so much better than this. You were a smart girl, you had things going for you, your life shouldnt revolve around a man who could not give any less of a fuck about you.

You find yourself stumbling away - backwards might you add - and you accidentally bump into someone, their liquor spilling over and down the back of your shirt.

You yelp, and it’s loud enough to catch Jimin’s attention, but you don’t notice because of how fast you spin around to face the person. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

You and the stranger speak at the same time, and you look up to find that he was quite… handsome.

He was tall, broad shouldered and obviously thick under that sweatervest he was wearing - which fuck it was too hot for that, even for you - and dimples settled into his cheeks and glasses that were raised high on his face, perched on his nose.

“No, no!” You wave away his apology nervously. “It’s fine! It’s my fault, I didn’t see where I was looking!”

“I shouldn’t have been carrying so many open drinks at the same time when I knew how crowded this place was, so it’s okay.”

You just watch as a genuine smile seems to spread on his face.

“How about this: we're both at fault, and we're sorry. Does that sound good?”

You find yourself nodding with a small smile. “Yeah… that sounds good.”

He stares at you, and you stare back, but then your eyes fall on a dark stain on his vest. His eyes seem to follow your gaze because he tries to wave you away this time.

“Hey, listen, it’s fine, it happens all the time! I’d say you took the brunt of it. How about you come with me, and I’ll get you a new shirt?”

Going with a guy that you’ve never met before to “get a new shirt” doesn’t seem like a good idea, but the image of Jimin plastered to that girl is all but tattooed on the back of your eyelids.

“Okay, yeah.”

The man’s smile gets bigger, but then falls as his gaze flickers to something behind you. Your brows furrow in concern, but before you can turn around, an arm slides itself around your waist.

“I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks man.”

You’re surprised to see Jimin next to you all but glaring at the tall man’s face, and there’s a prickle of irritation in your gut. The weight of his arm on you feels like a hot iron with the way it burns, and you step out of his grip just slightly.

The guy seems to notice, because his gaze narrows right back at him.

“Is this guy bothering you?” He asks.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the dog fight that might happen before you, and you just sigh.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure…” You let your voice die out, and the guy seems to make the connection.

“Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

You grin slightly. “(y/n).”

“Great. Bye, Kim Namjoon. Thanks for ruining her shirt.”

Jimin tugs you along behind him, and he’s silent the whole way to his room, and you’re half tempted to snatch yourself from his grip.

“What’s your problem?” You ask once you’re finally safe behind closed doors.

“What do you mean what’s my problem?” Jimin’s voice is hiding a thin layer of anger that you can hear clearly.

“You were such an asshole to him! And he didn’t “ruin” my shirt by the way. It’s just beer. It’ll get out.”

“That doesn’t matter. You were about to fuck off and go with some guy you didn’t even know!” He throws his hands up in the air like it’s obvious.

“Okay? It’s my business on who I go and “fuck off” with. The guy looked nice, so I trusted him.”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah, so you just trust any guy that asks you to leave with him? It’s so obvious he wanted to fuck you, and you were just going to do it with a smile on your face.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious right now.” You breathe.

“Very.” He says flatly.

You encroach in his space, getting in his face and settling him with a glare.

“I came to look for you at a fucking party you invited me to, and then I find you with your tongue down some random girl’s throat.” You sneer. “So forgive me if I’m a little peeved that you’re bothered by who I might go fuck.”

Jimin doesn’t know why he’s so bothered. ‘Doesn’t know why seeing you laughing and smiling with that guy makes something in his gut twist in disgust.

“I don’t like him.”

You lean your face away from his.

“That’s what you’ve taken away from this.” You let out an incredulous laugh, and the amusement behind your eyes is fake.

“I…” You shake your head. “I can’t believe this.”

“You are not who I thought you were.” Something in you wilts. “You are a grade A asshole, Park Jimin.” You spit his name like it’s a slur, and something inside him dies.

“What?” It’s his turn to scoff. “Don’t tell me you like me or something?” He knows he’s being mean, but he’s hurt, and he feels as though he has nothing else left.

“Excuse me?” You look like a kid who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Guilty.

There’s a sickening pleasure that takes root in his heart knowing that you want him like that.

“You’re doing this whole weird, possessive girlfriend thing.” It’s his turn to step in your space. 

“Well, sorry to say, but were just fuck buddies. I don’t want to be with you. All I want you for is a booty call, nothing more, nothing less.”

His words are like a knife to your heart and you deflate.

The tears burning behind your eyes finally fall, and your hand twitches at your side.

“I fucking hate you.” Is all you can say.

You push him out your way and he lets you, watches as you leave.

‘Good’ He thinks.

He tries to convince himself that the quicker he cuts this thing off, the easier things will get, because he doesn’t like you like that.

Right?

Right.

Your head was pounding by the time you had found your way back to your dorm, your shaking hands made it near impossible to get the key in the lock, but you managed it.

You hadn’t expected Sana to be there, bed engulfed by books and different studying utensils.

“Hey.” She greets mindlessly, flicking through papers in a certain folder before huffing and closing it when she clearly doesn’t find what she needs.

Your grip on your keys grows weak and they clatter to the floor, and she looks up in alarm, just as you take in a loud, pitiful sniffle.

“Oh, (y/n).” 

She scrambles to get up and you fall forward, trusting her to catch you, and she does, even if she’s extremely confused.

You’re sobbing into her shirt, and your chest twists and everything just hurts.

Jimin’s words feel like a slap in your face, and your heart burns like you had actually been slapped. You would have preferred that if you were going to be honest.

“(y/n), please. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“I liked him.” You sob. “I liked him so much, and, and, and –” You’re close to hyperventilating at this point, and Sana just seems to grow more anxious, because she pulls away from you and cups your cheeks.

“You need to breathe for me.” She says with a nervous albeit reassuring smile. 

You attempt to take a deep breath. 

“Good, that’s good, just keep trying.”  

Eventually, your breathing evens out, and she leads you over to your twin bed, seeing as hers is a bit of an organized mess right now.

“Now, can you finally explain to me what happened?”

Your hands shake as you make to pick at your cuticles, but she catches the habit before you can get to it, encasing your hands in hers.

“There’s a lot of things that you don’t know.”

“Okay…”

“But you know I like Jimin, right?”

“Mhm, like… big time.”

“Well, do you remember that party that you and your friend forced me to?” 

“Mhm.”

“Well… while I was waiting for you guys to be ready to go, Jimin approached me.”

“Oh my god?” She says excitedly, but you give her a sad smile.

“Don’t get excited just yet.”

“Anyways,” You continue. “He talked to me, then invited me to… you know, sleep with him.” Your cheeks burn as Sana stares at you dumbfounded, but you keep going. “The sex was great, don’t get me wrong, but he was so distant after everything was done.”

“He gave me his number and asked me to call him if I ever wanted to hook up with him again.”

“Douche.”

“Sana.”

“Sorry not sorry.”

You laugh a bit and she grins, relieved.

“Well, I did.”

“(y/n).” She sighs, releasing one of her hands to rub at her forehead.

“I know, I know! I also know I’m gonna sound really stupid when I say that I thought he actually liked me, but he… but he said some things to me tonight that really broke my heart.”

“Before we get to that, what made you think he likes you back?” She wasn’t trying to be mean by asking the question, you knew better. 

“Because there’ll be moments after we are done hooking up where he’d be super sweet. Like, sometimes he would cuddle me, or ask me to watch a movie, just things outside of the common hookup aftercare.”

“But then tonight,” You sighed. “I went to the party he invited me to, and caught him making out with some other girl, and so I went to leave but then I bumped into this guy.” You smile a bit at the memory.

“His name is Kim Namjoon, and he was super sweet – spilled a fuckton of beer on my shirt though.”

“So that’s why you smell like that.” 

“Yep.” You laugh. “And then Jimin came up and acted all… jealous and possessive and shit. Took me up to his room, we argued, he accused me of liking him and laughed in my face and called me just his fuck buddy after I didn’t deny that I did.”

You look up to find Sana seething.

“I’m going to call Taehyung.”

Taehyung was one of Jimin’s best friends, and he was currently groveling at Sana’s feet trying to be with her. Though she likes him, she wants to make him work for it just to see if he’ll lose interest, even though you know it’d kill her if he actually did.

“Why?”

“To break it off with him in solidarity.”

“What?!” You asked incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Taehyung is a good guy. You don’t need to do that for me.”

She regards you with a raised brow.

“Are you sure?”

You find yourself nodding. “Kinda need some roomie time right now.” Your eyes fall to her studying materials. “But if you’re too busy, I –”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

You laugh joyously as she begins to put her things away, and you make for the small fridge in your room where your sweet treats are held. 

Maybe things are going to be okay.

The next week is like a living hell.

You’ve basically made it your life’s mission to avoid Jimin as much as possible. You had already blocked him after a few encouraging words from Sana.

She still ended up calling Taehyung in the end, putting him in the dog house until his friend got his shit together. You could almost hear his pout as he begged her not to. She hung up on him.

The weather was nice, with early spring wandering around, you could finally start to wear flowier clothing, as well as study outside again.

Your head is so immersed in your book that you don’t see someone approach your table until a finger gently breaches your line of vision and taps the page.

You startle a bit and look up, and you're greeted by Namjoon’s sheepish face.

“Sorry, I didn’t know another way to get your attention, you looked really focused.”

“That’s sweet, but it’s okay. You could’ve interrupted me.” He gestures to the seat across from yours. “Can I sit?”

“Yeah, yeah! Go ahead!” You begin clearing things out of his way, and he smiles gratefully.

“I didn’t see you again after you left.” With that guy, is what’s unspoken, but you caught it anyways. “Yeah… uh – something came up, so I had to leave early.

His mouth forms an ‘o’ shape and he nods. “I see.”

“Yeah.” You grimace.

“Well I –” Namjoon swallows nervously. “I wasn’t able to tell you, but I think you’re beautiful.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.” You breathe in surprise, and the man visibly deflates. “Unless that guy was your boyfriend, then I’m sorry! Oh, God, I should have asked first.”

“No, no! He’s not my boyfriend.” You reassure him. “‘M surprised, is all; and very, very flattered.”

You know you should reject his advances, but you’re hurt, and he’s just… so sweet. A complete contrast to Jimin, and you think he’s the change of pace that you needed.

“I think you’re handsome if that makes you feel any better.” The words feel wrong coming out of your mouth, but you grin nonetheless when his cheeks warm an admirable red.

“I…” You meet each other's eyes, and look down at the same time, laughing shyly.

Maybe Namjoon could be good for you.

“You look pathetic, man.” Taehyung speaks through a mouthful of instant ramen disgustingly.

Jimin hits him upside the back of his head, and the poor boy winces.

“Ow!”

“Don’t forget you’re in the dog house too, idiot.” Jungkook mumbles from his side of the table.

“So what you’re telling me is that you want me to beat your ass?”

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. “Hyung fucked up, and now you’re being punished by association. No (y/n) means no Sana.” 

Jungkook’s right.

Ever since that night, Jimin’s desperately been trying to forget about you, about how hurt you looked. He almost feels sick thinking about it.

He admits that he could have handled that situation a lot better, but it was like something had taken over him. As soon as he’d seen you with Namjoon, and how willing you looked, something inside him just… snapped.

“I’m just waiting for hyung to admit that he was jealous and go and fix it.” Taehyung says simply. “It’s obvious that he’s in love with her, and I have no idea why he won’t just go and tell her.”

“I’m not -” Jimin hissed, “In love with her.”

“Yeah man, you are.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed, but his attention was stolen by your laugh.

You were laughing because of him.

You looked so sickeningly demure talking to him, wringing your fingers together and kicking out your legs as a nervous tick. You usually only ever did that when you were with him.

Jimin liked the effect that he had on you.

He liked how your eyelashes fluttered when he complimented you, how you held on to him when he fucked you, how you kissed him back like you meant it. Sure, your body was nice, but so was your personality.

You were kind, studious, selfless, and he wasn’t sure what drew you to him the first night he had met you.

He thought that your hidden affections were all for him, but it proves that he was mistaken. That’s fine. You could be with anybody that you wanted to.

‘Just not him’ Is supplied unhelpfully.

The thought shouldn’t bother him as much as it does.

It’s just… Jimin doesn’t do the whole commitment thing. The last time he had a partner, it blew up in his face, so he just finds that casual one night stands was just the easier way to go.

But things between you and him were never casual to begin with, huh?

“Listen,” Taehyung starts once more, and points his chopsticks at Jungkook. “Jimin-hyung, he'll realize what he wants when it’s too late. Girls like (y/n) don’t come around as often as they should.” Then, he dives back into his noodles.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed. Were they right?

He turns his head to look at them. “Was it ever casual between me and her?” He can’t help but ask.

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Wow, okay.”

“I mean, you let her sleep in your bed, hyung.” Jungkook basically scoffs. “You’ve never let any of your hookups stay the night, or cuddle with you; yet somehow she’s different.”

Different.

That was the key word here.

You were different.

The last few weeks with Namjoon have been nice.

The man was smart, and kind, and overall just a sweet, gentle giant that deserved everything in the world; but you knew deep down in your heart that you couldn’t be the one to give him that.

You saw it in the way that he looked at you, starry-eyed on his worst day, and heart-eyed the best. You can’t find it within yourself to feel flattered by it anymore, because you know that you don’t deserve it.

You don’t deserve his chivalry, his affection, and maybe - hopefully not - his love.

You’re ashamed to say that this whole rebound business blew up in your face like you went ahead and personally strapped the bomb to yourself.

You didn’t know how to tell him you didn’t like him like that, just how you had no idea how to tell Jimin you loved him after months of sleeping with him; exactly how that fateful night you said yes instead of no.

The words on the pages in front of you bled together like a big blob of ink, and Namjoon’s large foot snuck over to yours under the table and trapped it playfully.

You tried not to allow the grin you gave him to look like a grimace, even as he acted like he was reading as well. You were sure both of your reasons were entirely different.

You needed to put a stop to this, you needed to tell him you didn’t see him that way and you just wanted to be friends.

“Hey, Namjoon –”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Of course.”

Fuck. 

The look that Namjoon gave you was beaming, and you felt tears sting at the back of your eyelids.

You said yes to a date like the stupid, idiotic, selfish, terrible person you are. 

Namjoon had offered to walk you back to your dorm after your study session was over, but you couldn’t look at him anymore, the guilt crawling around in your stomach becoming something almost too much to handle.

“No thanks, Nammy.”

“Okay.” He pouts a bit. “But you be safe, alright?”

For the first time today, you gave him a true smile. “I will!”

The walk back to your dorm was slow, and heavy hearted, and you were so lost in your head, you couldn’t see that you were about to walk into someone until their hand shot out and caught you.

“Oh!” You squeaked, your head shooting up.

Your eyes widened at a very disgruntled looking Jimin.

He didn’t look as put together as he used to; his black mullet ruffled out of place and his black leather jacket rather wrinkly. 

“(y/n).” He spoke.

It had felt like forever since you heard his voice, and it took you everything in your power to not shut your eyes and bask in it.

You swallowed heavily. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I do.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“(y/n) please.”

You stare at him before huffing and crossing your arms. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” He breathes, and you finally notice how close you are, because you stumble back to finally put some space in between the two of you. If Jimin’s hurt by the action, he doesn’t show it.

You hate how much that bothers you.

“I fucked up.”

“No.” You instantly put a hand out to stop him. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

“What?”

“You started this whole thing, Jimin! I… I admit that I do like you, and I’ve liked you for a long time, but you don’t get to be the one to say you “fucked up” and regret everything you did.”

“Why not?” He asks, almost offended.

“Because you’ll never change!”

Jimin looks taken aback by your outburst. 

“You’ll tell me you’re sorry, we’ll fuck, and then it’ll be this process all over again. You don’t get to just do that! I need full commitment, and that’s not something you’re able to give me.”

“Plus,” You continue, taking in a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone right now.”

Jimin fucking snorts.

“Don’t tell me you have a date with the Namkim guy.”

“It’s Namjoon, and yes, I am. He’s nice.”

“Oh, is that it? He’s just nice?”

“And… and he’s smart too!” You exclaim almost petulantly. “He gives me flowers and tells me how much he likes me all the time, unlike you, who’s so emotionally constipated that not even laxatives would be able to help you!”

“Wha –” Jimin laughs in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! I’m gonna go on a date with a guy who actually likes me!”

You straighten your tote bag on your shoulder and brace yourself, straightening your posture.

“Now if you excuse me, I have a date to plan for, and homework to do.”

“What? (y/n)! Come back, I’m sorry!”

“No!”

You’re not going to lie and say you didn’t replay your entire interaction with Jimin for the rest of the week.

There was something about talking to him that gave you the energy to get through class, the haunting realization that maybe he was worth a damn. 

Wondering what would have happened if you had allowed him to apologize instead of cutting him off, of accepting his apology and allowing yourself to be with him in that way.

But you know, you know that if you were to go back to your old routine with him, it’d kill you. It’d kill you to watch him flirt with other people, or watch him take them home.

You fiddled with the strap of your dress, staring at yourself in the mirror and feeling awkward at the fact that the material only looked good if you didn’t wear a bra.

You were going to a restaurant with Namjoon; it was a nice, original first date idea. You’d talk over food, and get along just fine!

Namjoon was a nice guy. He was sweet, and he wouldn’t try to fuck you on the first date.

Oh, God, would he?

You really hope not.

“Damn girl.” Sana whistles from her spot on her bed. “You look sexy! You’re gonna blow that nerd’s socks off!”

“Sana.” You warned. “Be nice! He’s not a nerd. He’s just studious.”

“Sure. Every Philosophy major is studious.” She giggles to herself.

“Oh! Do you think he’s a virgin?!”

“Sana!” This time it’s a whine, but your arguing is interrupted by a couple knocks on the door.

“Oh, God, it’s him!” You whisper in a panic. 

You continue to mess with the front of your dress, pulling the hem up at the top to try and hide as much boobage as possible.

“Stop!” Your roommate hisses. “You look great!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Now go!”

You waddle over to the door and pull it open, your heart melting at the sight of a good looking Namjoon in front of you.

His hair was tastefully rumpled, a button up shirt tucked into a pair of slacks that hugged his thighs deliciously.

Wow, you were really hogging this man for yourself.

There was another stab of guilt when his eyes fell on your figure and he swallowed, his cheeks painting themselves an adorable pink. 

“W – wow, (y/n). You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” You say shyly. “Should we go?”

“Oh! Of course, of course!” 

He offers you his arm and you take it.

The conversation between the two of you was kept light, even as you got into the Uber that he had paid for.

“I uh – I don’t have my license.” Namjoon had sheepishly admitted to you one day.

He usually rode his bike to places, so you were surprised to see that he had splurged for today.

Shame burns in your gut once again.

(y/n): 0, Guilt and shame: the winner.

The restaurant was nice as you were led to your table, and very quiet.

You shuffled around in your seat, sheepishly ordering water as Namjoon looked over the menu.

“I’m so happy we're doing this.” Namjoon says after you get your drinks, and you sip on the freezing tap water.

“Yeah…” You speak after a few hefty gulps of your drink.

“I meant it when I said you looked gorgeous tonight.”

“Ah…” You fluster. “Where did all this confidence come from?”

“It comes from me wanting to ask you a question that you’ll answer truthfully.”

Instantly your heart falls into your ass, because you know exactly what’s coming.

“I might be a bit of a stick in the mud, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind, (y/n).”

“I can see that you haven’t really been in any of… whatever we have going on. And I’m not even going to lie, I don’t even think we’ve had anything to begin with.”

“What gave it away?” You ask with a grimace. “That.”

“That?”

“That thing you do with your face when you lie.”

You blink at him in surprise.

“Oh.”

“And you’ve done it every single time I’ve tried to flirt or compliment you. I’m surprised you even agreed to go out with me.”

“I…” You feel like you’re going to throw up. “I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on! There’s just been this thing, and I can’t tell you what it is –”

“Yes you can.”

“Pardon?” You ask in surprise.

“You know exactly why you can’t commit fully to this.”

“I…” You deflate in your seat, fiddling with the napkin. “You’re right.”

“It’s that guy, right? The one from the party?” 

Namjoon’s words aren’t hurt, judgemental, or angry, they’re just factual. Like how he gets when he breaks down a piece of difficult text in one of his ancient little books he likes to read.

“I should start from the beginning shouldn’t I?”

“We’ve got all night.”

So you do. You start from that night at the party, over how you’ve felt these last few weeks, even as the food had come and gone, you two hadn’t stopped talking.

You had refused to let him pay at the end of the night, and you literally almost had to fight him over splitting the bill.

“This was supposed to be a date.” He speaks with a pout, and you just laugh. 

You two worked well as friends, because you nudged his foot. “Yah! We can go on another date soon, okay?”

He just laughs with a shake of his head.

When you guys leave, you offer to pay for your shared Uber when you spot someone you weren’t expecting.

Jimin’s in the parking lot, leaning against his car and looking around. When his gaze lands on you, his slouched position straightens, and your heart stutters in your chest.

“This guy is like the fucking boogeyman.” You murmur, and Namjoon laughs once more.

“I uh… may have sort of called him here.”

Your head whips around and you stare at him in betrayal. “What?!”

“Listen. You and him have some shit to work out, and - bless your heart - we both know you don’t have a backbone, so I think it would be better if you both fixed this, or ended it for good.”

You can’t help but just stare at him. “Where did you even get his number?”

“Taehyung. The poor man’s been practically begging me to leave you alone and let Jimin fix this because he’s been sexiled.”

You sigh, glancing over at a waiting Jimin who’s watching you hopefully.

“You won’t be here for solidarity, will you?”

“For both our sakes, I think you know the answer to that.”

You swallow, turning your attention back to him. “I really am sorry about how everything went down between us. You’re a great guy, and I’m sure one day another person will be able to see that. I’m sorry it’s not me.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s alright, I need to worry about my studies anyways.”

You smile sadly at him, and he just chuckles and shakes his head, pulling you into his warm embrace.

“I mean it (y/n),” He starts when you separate, “It’s okay, but you need to go, because Jimin looks like he’s about to throttle me, and I’m not really interested in fighting someone tonight. I have a test in the morning.”

Your smile is a little less sad this time, and he waves you off.

The walk to Jimin feels like a walk to doom; it’s silent, tense, and you’re unsure about where you’ll end up at the end of the night.

“Hi.” You breathe awkwardly. You grasp onto your clutch purse like a lifeline.

“Hey.”

“Uh…” You begin, but Jimin just sighs, opening the passenger door, and gesturing for you to get in. “We need to talk.”

Your shoulders deflate. “Alright.”

Even though he said you needed to talk, the car ride is silent, even as you watch yourself being pulled into a parking lot, the man stopping and turning his car off.

“So, are you going to let me speak this time, or are you just going to cut me off again?”

You scowl. “Is that really how you want to start this conversation?”

“No, no, fuck I’m sorry. I’m already fucking it up.” His hands grip the steering wheel, twisting them around nervously.

“I’m not used to this.”

“Used to what?”

“Dating, feelings, that kind of thing. And I thought that if I hurt you, and never had to see you again, that those things would just go away, but they didn’t.”

He slumps back in his seat, casting his gaze out the window before turning his attention towards you.

“When I saw you with him –”

“Namjoon.”

“Yes,” He all but hisses, “With Namjoon, I felt sick to my stomach. Like something was wrong, like he was taking something from me.”

“But I was never yours to begin with.”

“Yeah,” He sighs. “I know, and that’s the issue.”

“You were right about me being an asshole, because I was. I projected all of my weird, little possessive feelings onto you and totally flipped out when I should have just talked to you.”

“But instead I pushed you away, said things I didn’t mean, and you still went with that guy, and I felt horrible.” Jimin hesitantly reaches out a hand – an olive branch of sorts – and waits for you to take it.

He hopes you take it.

You look at him and back down to his hand, before lifting yours and intertwining your fingers.

“What are you trying to tell me, Jimin? Because… because if we do this friends-with-benefits bullshit again, I think it’ll actually kill me.”

“I don’t think I could handle that even if I tried.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that seeing you with the other people that aren't me makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I’d rather have you all to myself like the nasty, greedy bastard I am.”

“Like a boyfriend.”

Jimin finally smiles.

That beautiful, eye closing smile that makes your heart skip a beat too many.

“Yeah, (y/n), like a boyfriend.”

“Does that make me your girlfriend?”

“I would sure hope so.”

You grin as well, happiness painting over your features as you watch him.

“What does this mean for us now?” He leans forward into your space, and this time you don’t move back, just gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. “This means that you’ll hopefully let me kiss you.”

“Well lucky for you, I’m feeling nice tonight.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes, yet connects your lips together. Your eyelids flutter shut.

Euphoria. That’s the only feeling you could describe after feeling the plushness of his mouth after so long. It’s felt like centuries since you’ve touched him, and every nerve in your body lights aflame.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, and his hands cup your jaw, tugging you to him over the center console.

“I can’t go that far.” You pant with a chuckle, and he huffs a small smile.

“Backseat?”

“Please don’t tell me you want to have makeup sex in the backseat of your car in the middle of the park.”

“You want to have makeup sex?” His eyes glimmer. It’s your turn to snort. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Then no, we're absolutely not doing that here.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

© yoongsriverandme 2025-26

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[ericshoney]

Tara's Sister ~ Chris Sturniolo (part two)

Summary: After meeting your sister's friends and getting Chris' number, you finally hang out with him.

Warnings: possible swearing, first date, kissing, fluff

a/n: Here you go! To everyone who asked for a part two! Hope it's as good as part one! 🥹

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day. You were hanging out with Chris. Tara hasn't stopped teasing you since you met him and you've been texting back and forth constantly.

Tara begged to do your make up and you finally agreed as long as it was nothing fancy. You then picked a simple but cute outfit as you were just getting dinner.

"Ahh! You look so cute!" She exclaimed.

"Taraaaa I'm not a baby." You mumbled as she gently squished your cheeks.

"Your my baby sister." She replied, making you laugh.

"How is Chris picking you up?" She then asked.

"Uber." You answered simply, checking your phone to see a message from Chris.

Hey now on my way 😁

Twenty minutes later, you heard a knock at the door. You went and opened it, seeing Chris there with a smile.

"Hey, wow you look really pretty." He said.

"Thank you, it's just simple." You replied with a smile.

"Honestly you could rock up in sweats and a hoodie, I'd still think your pretty." He rambled on, making you blush and smile.

You then said bye to Tara as you both got into the Uber. Chris was telling you a funny story of what happened with Nick throughout the day.

"And he just blamed me! I wasn't anywhere fucking near him!" He shouted.

"He's clumsy. He and Tara could be the same person." You said.

"Right. They are both loud." He replied, making you smile and nod.

When the Uber stopped, you both got out and went to the restaurant that Chris had booked for you. He spoke to the waiter and you were led to a booth near the back.

You started looking at the menu and knew what you were going to order. The waiter soon came back, letting you and Chris order your drinks first.

"How's the college break going?" He asked.

"It's going good and I love staying with Tara, I honestly don't know if I want to go back." You answered.

"If you went back I wouldn't see you as much." He mentioned.

"I know, that's another thing playing on my mind." You replied with a faint blush.

Chris smiled as you drinks then arrived and you both ordered your food. The two of you talked and joked, Chris making you laugh the whole time.

A few hours later, a belly full of food and a massive smile on your face, you were both ready to leave. Chris offered to pay, which you playfully argued with saying you could pay too, but Chris wanted to treat you.

"You wanna go for a walk, maybe get some ice cream?" He suggested as you left.

"Yeah sounds good." You replied with a nod.

You then walked down the street, listening to Chris chat. He was also a good listener, letting you talk as well. You two walked around the city and found a cute little ice cream stall.

"I'm paying this time!" You exclaimed, running over to the stall.

"Not if I get there first!" Chris shouted.

You giggled as you both raced to the stall. You were about to get there when arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

"Hey!" You shouted with a giggle.

"I win." Chris said, making you smile.

"Fineeee." You whined, making him laugh.

Chris ordered two ice creams and paid for them. He passed you yours, which you thanked him for, as you went and sat on a bench.

"You know, along with Tara, me, Nick and Matt can help you find a job you'll like to do with photography and fashion." Chris offered.

"That would be nice." You said.

"Or even you could put more on your socials." He added.

"I might do. I think I'm done with college, many more things here I like." You replied.

Chris smiled as you faced him. Your eyes flicked to his lips as his to yours.

"Can....Can I kiss you?" He asked softly.

You smiled and nodded as he leaned in, his lips touching your softly. You smiled against his lips kissing back.

"Wow." You whispered as he pulled away, both of you giggling.

Chris smiled and called an Uber to take you both home. You held his hand gently the whole ride home.

When the Uber pulled up at Tara's place, Chris walked you to the door, both of you still smiling wide.

"I had fun tonight, Chris." You said.

"Me too, wanna do it again sometime?" He asked.

"Totally." You answered with a nod.

Chris smiled and kissed your cheek, waving as he left in the Uber. You walked in and saw Tara watching a movie on the sofa.

"Did you have fun? I need all the details!" She exclaimed.

You laughed and sat telling her the details. Once Chris got home, he was the exact same question by Nick and Matt. Both of you smiled as you explained the amazing date.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @sturniolo-fann @riowritesitall

[glitter-stained]

Ok sooo don’t know if you’ve ever already been asked this but-

I’m like a sucker for cute baby robin Jason interactions with the Teen titans. In my own wonderful world I like to imagine that Baby Jason had (has) a crush on his older brother’s cool older friends (cough cough Roy).

How do you think that would go? (I’ve thought of these scenarios soooo many times)

Especially when he meets them again when he’s older, and ripped, and ohmygodthosethighs

Just asking Fellow Jason Todd Stan to Fellow Jason Todd Stan :)

Tysm for the ask!

Hmmm

I think the more Titans Jaybin had a baby crush on the cuter it gets.

Dick: so hey Jay how was it what did you think of my team?

Jaybin, who spent way too many hours surrounded by the coolest and prettiest people he's ever seen smiling and talking to him: I think I have arrhythmia.

As for his comeback, I'm gonna be honest I'm very critical of villainous Jason, I think UTH an intelligent, enjoyable story but I personally can't get over its flaws so I'm gonna answer using some AUs of mine, please bear with me. Mostly it's just hard to analyse and make hypothesis about a characterization you disagree with.

Antigonish : that's my personal UTH rewrite where Jason is still a villain/antihero/rogue but the way I'd have written it. In this, Jason (17) looks around 17 years old at most in UTH so he's still not exactly a sexy adult but I don't think the Titans know he's back yet. At the end of Antigonish, Jason leaves Gotham and Dick only finds out from Bruce after he left that Jason's back. So I think the way Dick learns it and passes it on the Titans is "there is a very deeply traumatized highly skilled teenager wandering across the country who needs urgent psychiatric care if lost please return to Batman." I don't know when he first meets the og Titans afterwards (though he maybe meets Roy first since I kinda want him to wind up in Star City for a while, make friends with Mia), but I think there would be that "best friend's undead little brother, handle with care" vibe going on on the Titan's side. On Jason's side, I can see him annoying the fuck out of Mia lmao -"wow your older brother is so handsome I wanna use these biceps as pillows for the rest of my life", "have you seen him with Lian, I wanna bear his children" she would be SO DONE with him

Now in an AU similar to Antigonish, but also closer to canon (aka trying to mash my version of Jason into various dc canons held together with glue to have in character!Roy with an older version of Antigonish!Jason teaming up) which I will call the Jayroy AU as its sole purpose for existence is that I want these people to date, Jason and Roy meet as adults (Jason is 22 and Roy 29). Why did they never meet before? Eh, raising a kid who definitely doesn't get exploded is hard work. Anyway the point is Roy doesn't recognise Jason. Jason is using a pseudonym (probably something stupid like Harper Teal) because of legally dead reasons and just assumes Roy recognised him and followed along, but he looks nothing like the cute little guy who blushed like a tomato every time Roy talked to him. At some point Jason casually mentions the adventure he had with the Titans and Roy goes through several kinds of shock and has to reboot like a computer.

> + bonus lantern AU:

Red Lantern Dick: "hey guys remember my first little brother Jason? He asked if he could get some help on an intergalactic issue."

The titans: "that cute kid? Didn't he die? And why would the second Robin need help with intergalactic threats anyway?"

Jason, thighs and tits on display, in his Star Sapphire uniform, with a machine gun construct under the arm: "Hey guys who wants to help me take down a space wide trafficking ring?"

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

12 Days of Christmas: 2024 Christmas Event

Day 9: Mistletoe

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Notes: This is probably my second favorite piece (the Wind one is 1st lol) in this event!

Main Masterlist | Event Masterlist | Previous Day | Next Day

You knew something was up as soon as you noticed Wind hanging that blasted plant above the stable entrance on Lon Lon Ranch.

The notion that Hyrule, of all places, was also blessed with the demented gift that was mistletoe was a strange one, but you chalked it up to fate or, perhaps, some form of karmic retribution for all the times you had stepped to avoid the accursed fungus-shrub.

"Hey, bud, what'cha got there?" you feigned curiosity, glancing up at the plant with a befuddled expression. Wind placed his hands on his hips, grinning proudly, and you supposed he deserved it, because the arch was nearly three times his height and not even you and your totally jacked body could manage that alone.

"It's called mistletoe!" the Sailor proclaimed. "Warriors told me to hang it up! For the holidays!"

"Is that so?" you mused, though your mind was anything but quiet. What the heck, Warriors? "Is Time okay with this?"

"I showed him and Malon and they just giggled," the youngest hero explained with a shrug, and you were eternally grateful he didn't know the true meaning behind the plant.

"Well, I think it looks great," you smiled, patting him on the head. "Very sophisticated."

Wind's eyes sparkled. "You think so?"

"So do I," a new voice joined the conversation, heralded by the crunch of boots against gravel, and you leveled Warriors with the flattest look you could muster, though it only seemed to encourage the shit-eating grin the Captain currently sported. His gaze flicked to the arch where the mistletoe hung. "Wow, I couldn't have done it better myself, Sailor."

If Wind had a tail, you were positive it would be wagging. He turned his gaze to you, expression pleading. "Can we hang some in the house too?"

"I don't see why not," you acquiesced, the corners of your lips ticking up when the youngest hero beamed, turning tail and sprinting to the house before you could get another word out, which provided the perfect opportunity to fix Warriors with another look. "You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

And, like the bastard he was, the Captain only grinned. "Says the person who just gave him permission to deck the halls."

Fuck, that was actually good. How appalling. You rolled your eyes. "Case and point, you little shit."

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Warriors placed his elbow against the wooden plank of the arch, hip cocked in a position that you guessed was supposed to be some flavor of enticing. "You love me," he said, smooth as silk, dangerous as a viper.

"Don't flatter yourself," you crossed your arms over your chest with a borderline glare. This wasn't the first time he had pulled the moves on you, and it wouldn't be the last, consider how, with each teasing rejection, he only seemed more persistent in getting you to crack. Consensually, of course, but your point stood. "I'd sooner kiss a cuckoo, I'll have you know."

It was when Warriors' grin turned sharp and he treated you to the most Hylia-awful wink that you realized the error of that particular quip. "Who said anything about kissing?" oh god, oh fuck. "But since you're obviously in need–"

"Nope, nope, there are children and innocent farm animals around," you cut him off before the situation could get any more maddening than it already was. You placed a hand by your ear, mentally preparing for the mental anguish that was adding to this bullshit. "Oh my Hylia, I think I hear Sky calling me!"

But Warriors was not so easily defeated. "...Have I ever told you how much I love your perfect bullshitting–"

"Oh no, he's definitely calling me!" you exclaimed, already beginning to powerwalk towards the house. "I'm literally so wanted right now!"

"By the Royal Guard," came his deadpan response, and you had to pause to come to terms with the fact that he had actually passed on an opportunity to make a bad joke.

Hands on your hips, you faced him once more. If anything, you were almost offended. "Why?"

Warriors pushed himself off the plank, grin returning with a passion. "Because you're under arrest," he stepped closer, until the two of you were nary a foot apart.

You bit your lip. "Do I dare ask why?"

"For," he paused, likely for comedic effect, and you said your prayers. "Stealing my heart."

You blinked once. Then twice. "...You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"You're smiling."

Fuck, you were. To remedy this horrible slip-up, you did the only correct thing and slapped a hand over your mouth like it would fix all your problems. "Nope, I'm not."

"Yessss."

"Noooo."

There was silence. It didn't last long.

The Captain's expression shifted to what could only be described as a pout, which was such a bizarre look that you had to physically hold yourself back from letting loose in front of the poor man. "You're mean."

You were unmoved. "And you're an asshole."

Phew, perfect deflection; you were obviously a master at this.

"Actually, I'm Link–"

"Fuck no," you hissed as your tolerance for bad humor reached its daily limit, just as Warriors' shoulders began to shake as his laughter made itself known, the lovable asshole. "Go harass Legend. He's actually into that."

"Wow, tough crowd," the Captain held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Good," unsympathetically, you paused, your mind reminding you of a certain set of recent grievances against him. "And stop sneaking up on me! Someone ought to put a bell on you."

–Until you froze, realizing your mistake as soon as the words fell from your mouth.

Warriors grin was diabolical.

It happened the next morning.

You were in the stable, helping Twilight lug a large shipment of hay to a place that wasn't in the middle of the floor. A sneeze escaped you, nose beyond red from the rather maddening overabundance of dust swirling in the dry air.

"Bless ya, darlin'," the Rancher said, tossing another bale over his bare shoulder, his arms and chest flexing to accommodate its weight. You rubbed your nose, glancing over with mild jealousy; you knew they were all fit, but this was getting ridiculous. "Yer lookin' a bit red, sure ya don't need a break?"

"Thanks, but I'm fine, Twi," you waved him off, not unkindly, and paced to the steadily-shrinking pile of bales. You grabbed one by the chord and grunted. Fuck, these were heavy! You stole a baleful (ha ha) glance in the Rancher's direction. "Nothing? Seriously? Save some seasonal imperviousness for the rest of us, Rancher!"

Twilight laughed, unaffected nose wrinkling in an expression of mirth. You half-heartedly wondered if shoving his face into one of the bales would change that. "No need ta get salty, darl'," he chortled, and your budding scowl deepened. Fucking ranchhand. "Happens ta the best o' us."

"Says you," you huffed, suddenly glad for the tunic you'd been forced to retain by society and a need to keep Warriors' jokes at bay. A glance was spared outside the barn, and you sighed. "Man, I can't believe there's supposed to be snow outside."

Twilight's ears perked up. "Ya don't say?"

"No, I'm serious," you defended, tossing the bale into the appropriate corner. "Back home, we're practically drowning, but here, it's like summer never left."

A soft chuckle left the Rancher's mouth. He grabbed another bale. You considered praying for bigger biceps for the holidays. "An' yer complaining?"

"Yes," you grunted, the thought of removing your shirt becoming more and more appealing. Hylia, you'd seen Wild in all his naked glory before–accidentally, of course–and Four had an annoying habit of removing his tunic to 'concentrate', so you were sure whatever you did would pale in comparison to the shenanigans they employed. "It's fucking hot in here."

"Really? Ah didn't notice–"

"One more word and it'll be your last, Rancher," you warned, and he appropriately shut up. Must be that dog in him. You fiddled with the hem of your tunic. "You mind if I take this off? I think I might pass out."

Twilight paused, looking contemplative before he nodded, shooting you a kind smile. "Go right ahead, darlin', ah don't mind."

"You're a saint, Twilight," you breathed, pulling the offending garment over your head, leaving you in nothing but a tank-top-esque garment that began just under your ribs, a pair of trousers, and your boots. Almost immediately, a breeze whistled through the barn doors, and you nearly groaned when cool air hit the exposed skin of your stomach and arms. It felt heavenly, you thought as you tied the tunic around your waist, ready to continue. Until you turned around, froze, and realized Twilight had snagged the last two bales, regarding you with a smile that was nothing if not smug.

"Looking fer somethin'?" The bastard had the decency to ask, though it was kind of ruined with that grin of his.

"Really?" you deadpanned, realizing that you had just been played. "I take everything back, you're a menace."

"Ah'm glad ya realized," said Twilight in what was quite possibly the most self-satisfied tone you'd heard in your life.

"Fuck off," you hissed, wholly unimpressed. "Where's a pitchfork when you need it?"

Warriors was waiting under the arch when you were finally relieved of bale duty, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, feet tilted upwards in a position that made you want to simultaneously roll your eyes and strike up a conversation.

"Hey," you called, drawing closer. The Captain blinked, ears perking as he was torn from whatever world he had been lost inside. He too was shirtless, skin slightly shiny from the heat, but you didn't know that. You weren't looking. Obviously. "Didn't the army teach you it's a bad idea to sleep in the sun?"

"Hm? But you just got here," was his response, punctuated by a famously terrible wink, and you felt your will to live crumble a bit more.

"What was that?" you placed both hands behind your ears. "Did you hear that? I could have sworn I heard someone talking to me."

"Har, har," Warriors pushed off the wall, standing to his full heSight. Like Twilight, he was shirtless. Unlike Twilight, you found yourself stealing glances for a completely different reason than muscle jealousy. While his smile never faltered, only a fool would miss the newer, sharper glint in his eyes. "You're quite sassy for the person under the mistletoe."

Fuck.

You glanced up to confirm that the blasted plant was still there.

Double fuck.

"So are you," you shot back before you could stop yourself. "Suck it, Wars."

A snort left the Captain's lips. He was getting closer, nary a few feet away, and you became distinctly aware of the fact that your tunic was still tied around your waist. "...Do you really want to hear my answer to that?"

You grimaced, but it wasn't from disgust. Far from it, actually. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to choose my mental health on this one."

A gasp. "What??"

You couldn't hold back a delighted giggle at the betrayed expression on Warriors' face.

"I'm wounded, mortally," the Captain continued, sparing no expense in being as dramatic as possible. He was practically on the verge of laying a hand on his forehead and reenacting select maidens from the novels you just knew he had stashed in his pack. "To think that you would cast me aside so cruelly... for sanity! For shame!"

"Oh, please," you snorted. The mistletoe dangled above. "The only thing I should be apologizing for is not doing it sooner."

"Oh, my heart..."

Again, you snorted. Not again, you wondered how bad kissing him would be. "Hylia knows you've got dozens more, hero."

Cerulean eyes turned to you. A foot more, and he would practically be on top of you. "And what of love??"

"Aren't I supposed to be the sassy one?"

"Love is dead, I tell you!" the Captain bemoaned, throwing his arms wide. You wondered how they would feel wrapped around you. "slain by none other than–"

Okay, this was getting out of hand. You crossed your arms over your chest, thankful that the breeze was still kicking up. "Are we still talking about the mistletoe or do you need a minute?"

The dramatics stopped abruptly, and Warriors cleared his throat. He began to speak, but none of it shone in his eyes. "Ah, yes, about that. Lunch is almost ready, so I would recommend heading over soon."

Then, he took your hand, pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles, and began to amble away.

You blinked, a bit surprised by the disappointment flooding your veins. Where was the determination? The annoyingly attractive swagger that only someone as vain as him could master?

The words tumbled off your tongue before you could stop them.

"Where are you going?"

Warriors paused. He turned around, an eyebrow raised, though it was far from judging. "...To the house?"

"Seriously?" Fuck, why were you so upset? Your hands balled loosely, and, before you knew it, you were marching forward, close enough to gently jam your finger against his sternum. "All that and you're going to just walk away?"

Confusion flooded the Captain's expression, but he didn't dare move away. In fact, he seemed to lean into your touch. "I thought you wanted–?"

"I don't," you cut him off, too far gone to bother being embarrassed. He wasn't the type of person you pegged doing things halfway, and you hoped to Hylia you were right. "Are you going to finish what you started or do I need to do it myself?"

The confusion morphed into realization, and, suddenly, there were arms around your bare waist and a pair of lips on yours. Your hands tangled in sandy blonde locks, and the world all but melted away when you pressed yourself to his chest, the flow of time quickening to the staccato-y rhythm of your heart. Fuck the heat, because you had all the warmth you needed right here.

Seconds passed, then m– then, you were separating, panting for stolen air. Warriors' eyes fluttered open, and your lungs stuttered at the pure adoration dancing in the bluebell irises. Then came a smile sweeter than any sunset, until you felt like the combined heat could strike you down at any moment. "There," he murmured, still holding you close.

"We should do that again," you blurted, cheeks flushing hotly. "I mean– for the holidays, obviously."

"I'd love nothing more," the Captain smiled–genuinely, wholly–and it was the last thing said between the two of you before his lips were on yours again, fingers tracing delicate circles on the flesh of your waist.

Maybe mistletoe wasn't so bad, after all.

Hope y'all enjoyed the witty banter; it's definitely my favorite thing to include in my stories <33

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin: Episode 8 "Great or Little Thing" Series Finale Breakdown

So first and foremost I need to give a shout-out to everyone who's been following this with me and helped me week after week process and articulate this show, this brilliant Penguin Braintrust without which I would be incredibly lost on how to even begin breaking this thing down this way: @davidmann95, @wil4x, @book--wyrm and my friend Lucas who is not on Tumblr.

And so we're here at last, in the end of the show. This took forever. I need a goddamn break. This isn't enough and will never be enough but it'll have to do. So let's get to the episode that has had the world joining hands in the unanimous urge to see the absolute shit kicked out of Oswald, and has made the character at last earn this:

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7)

So who would have guessed that cartoon dirtbag Rex Calabrese was still gonna turn out to be less of a cartoon dirtbag than Oz the moment we stop seeing him through Oz's eyes. Still a terrible person by every metric, but terrible in the same way a lot of Sopranos characters are terrible: this is, at the end of the day, a job, and you can talk to them, you can sit at a table to get down to business with them, and you probably know people in your life like them, and maybe you can even count of them to get real and even help you when the chips are down, even if it doesn't mitigate everything else that they are or do. At the very end, he was neither the benevolent god-king that Oz saw him as, nor was he the absurd dirtbag gangster we had him pegged as - there was never anything exceptional about Rex Calabrese, he's just a real criminal. Maybe the realest in the show.

I said in the last post that Francis burned with hate at everyone in the world except the person who most ruined her life and haha WOW was I wrong, because it turns she's known the entire goddamn time, and quite possibly no one has ever hated him more than Francis.

Most people in the show who hate Oz do so because he's a destructive bastard who craps on their lives directly, or because he's a lying sneaky fuck who does nothing while their lives are ruined, and Francis has had to deal with both longer than anyone else. I can't possibly count every single way this wildly recontextualizes every single interaction, every moment, everything that Francis has shown us and done since the first episode, because I'd have to recap EVERY scene and line of dialogue she has and we still have so much else to get through.

Why was Francis was so effectively able to withhold affection and hold his feet to the fire and give him that bottomless pit of yearning in his stomach that's driven him to move mountains in pursuit of it? Because Francis wouldn't have loved him even if he gave her the entire world at age 12. She never had any affection or love left for him. Oz was always chasing nothing.

And all along it was Rex who shaped the entire course of Oswald's life, as well as prefiguring his dynamic with Victor, with a single conversation. Oswald spend his childhood wanting for Rex Calabrese to notice and like him and be his friend, and he has no idea how much Rex actually affected his life.

That fateful night at Monroe's was never the feel-good story about his Ma summoning the willpower to live by dancing away the grief, and it was never even just the night of the eternal promise that Oz thinks back to, it was a fucking trap to kill Oz. Nothing he has in his life is real, nothing he says is true, he has never not lived in complete total delusion.

The sheer disgust in Deirdre O'Connell's face at the "I do too". How much of her personality we completely understand was born from this absolute resentment she's nursed for decades towards Oz.

And this rotten little turd comes at her with a perfect speech that hits her every insecurity and bitterness and spite and situation and convinces her to give him another chance. The nature versus nurture thing again - Oswald was shaped by hardship, by decades of hard work and neglect, by the total absence of his mother's love while in turn being forced to live in stunted childhood dedicating himself to always taking care of her, and maybe what we're seeing here is heavily distorted by Francis's POV - or maybe he was always a little monster, because this guy talking to her is The Penguin, the same guy doing the same things in the same way, either way it doesn't matter. Again, born fucking ready.

So now we see our three major supporting characters - Sofia, Victor and Francis - all of them have shown that they had a chance to walk away from Oz, to not let him ruin their lives further. All of them could have left Oswald behind, and all of them should have left Oswald behind, but they had to come back and justify the choice to do so, they had to get satisfaction, it couldn't have been for nothing. Victor had his car and a girlfriend in a bus waiting for him, Sofia had a jet to take her to Italy, and Francis had Rex Calabrese ready and waiting to put him down without a word. All of them had a chance to get out of the show and never look back, but like Oz, they had to rectify and overcorrect for an insult.

Sofia can't walk away from Gotham without punishing Oz for turning her in, for killing Alberto and further lying to her, she can't accept that this man, this embodiment of Carmine's legacy and hold over her, is still out there unpunished getting away with what he's done. Victor can't walk away from Gotham knowing that his parents did everything right and still died for nothing, that every hurtful thing Oz said was right, he can't let "They don't give out awards for dying in the projects" be the last word in his and their lives. And Francis can't walk away from Oz, who killed her two sons and keeps lying about it, who ruined her life and now keeps promising he will take care of her and acting like everything will be fine, she can't let this pass even if she can't kill him either, and so she'll make him give her the world and die trying.

The tragedy of what happened is what hurt/broke them - the added insult of what Oz said or did is what they just can't live with. It can't be for nothing.

Goddamnit it, it was really just too telegraphed for it to not happen the way it did.

I fucking knew it the moment the episode started and we got the grungy boss orchestral take on the funny Penguin chords that we were in for some calamitous shit.

We see at first that, in spite of seemingly failing, Vic has graduated to the point he can give his own speeches, gain his own allies, run his own cons - he's not just Oz's proxy, but will manage to convince the others to become such as well, and he's coming at this from a place of complete sincere belief in everything that Oz says, all of the man of the people rhetoric he will so thoroughly pervert and then sell to the people actually responsible for everything he told Victor he was fighting against.

Zeke walks up to him nearly crying about how Sofia blew it all up and Vic instantly asks back where's Oz - not because he doesn't care about Crown Point, but he's already processed it and has already learned with Oz how to just barrel forward regardless, now it's time to get to work. Victor who so readily throws himself into rescuing Oz again and again. Victor who's lost everything - he doesn't have his family, he doesn't have Graciela, he doesn't have the other mobs backing him up, and right now he doesn't even have Crown Point anymore, all he has is Oz.

The man in red who reads the Law Gave him three weeks of life, Three little weeks in which to heal His soul of his soul's strife, And cleanse from every blot of blood The hand that held the knife - The Ballad of Reading Gaol

Sofia dressed in two thematically appropriate outfits - the red scarf echoing both the first outfit we see her in, back to covering her neck but in control of her own collar, and the outfit we see her the farthest back in time with at the start of Episode 4, and with her final crimson fur coat outfit accompanying her final greatest triumph and ultimate defeat in the show. Not only that, but in this episode she also gets to perform characteristically appropriate stylized torture - holding a family intervention and therapy session with mafioso torture tactics to try and wrench the truth out of her victimizer, enacting calculated sadistic yet righteous justice via psychological breakdown, and ultimately allowing the woman he victimized and wronged to take her killshot at him.

See, it's not just that Sofia Gigante is a Batman Villain, or that she's well passed the threshold of supervillain. Cristin Milioti doesn't play Sofia like she's a new character, which she basically is, and she isn't just playing a tortured gangster lady protagonist dipping into camp villain territory, which she also is - she plays Sofia Gigante like she's been a Batman Rogues headliner for decades now stepping into the spotlight once again, like she's the dark modern revamp of someone Adam West would have thought and she's just always been around showing up in stuff along with The Penguin, like she's only not fighting or teaming up with Two-Face in this because he's not here yet. It is crucially important that Sofia passes every standard of Batman Villain imaginable with flying colors, in part because it helps to reinforce that The Penguin is a monster all his own.

Even here, with as much power as she's ever possibly held over him, reduced him to a whimpering begging mess to be killed off in a second, she is so shocked at the sheer brazen selfishness and delusion and level of bullshit on display, that even now he won't break character and think about his actions and admit to what he's done not even to save his own mother from mutilation, that she just loses the script entirely. Her entire show of power collapses and she physically recoils from sheer disgust at just how low Oswald is, at just how much he lacks the ability to even suffer for what he's done. Realizing that there is simply not enough of a soul in this filthy beast to even torture, and that however much she hates Oswald for ruining her life, someone had a prior claim all along.

Eve - Sofia - Francis in the end united in, however much they may dislike each other, however different their circumstances may be, there is nothing they could possibly do to each other that would be worse than what Oswald has done to all of them, joined in silent agreement that their rage ultimately belongs in a bullet fired at Oz's head and that they deserve their kill shot at this man.

"I had enough to give, Oswald".

This really is gonna be the high point of Francis's life from this point on.

Aw man, I liked Sofia's scruffy dirtbag detective, I wanted him to stick around as one of the reocurring characters like the movie cops

Oh Victor, sweet kind Victor, you couldn't possibly ask for anything worse in the entire world.

Oz feebly already beginning to lie and spin his new version of the events, that Sofia stabbed him and fucked up with Ma, and here comes Victor with the reversal of their dynamic, seeing this guy who's been brought low by the oppressive force looming over his life that he must defeat (because all that Victor knows about Sofia at this point is that she used to be Oz's boss and is now out to kill them, that she is scary as hell, and regardless of whether or not she was the Hangman, she just bombed his fucking neighborhood) and reaching out to him with a speech about solidarity and dignity and self-worth and picking yourself up by your fucking bootstraps to save the day. And Oz responds by coaching him on how to be a better bullshitter. Because to Oz, he knows the playbook by heart, but Victor meant it all.

Victor rebuilds Oz from basically nothing by providing him with the validation that he so desperately always craved and never got, saying all the things he always wanted to hear, poised so they can finish this together, poised to give him not only the army he asked for, but a full-blown revolution, and he never once asks for anything in return. Just, goddamnit this isn't hurting any less.

"She, sh-she'll never look at me again, all right?....unless I get this done. Got a promise to keep." Maybe the one and only time his mask ever fully cracks. For a second. He rebuilds it right back up and gets to work, but it cracked. He knows what he's doing, up until the moment he doesn't. It's that simple.

A lot of what drives Oz is acceptance, and a lot of what drives him is his desire to be accepted in worlds that have been declared, by how they run themselves and by the people that inhabit these worlds, as worlds that he was never going to be included in. And one of those worlds is the hierarchy and the hoi polloi of the political realm and the power within the political realm because he understands that all politics are corrupt essentially, and the damage that he could do then in being part of a political infrastructure of Gotham interests him. I thought it would be nice if, in that time jump, he had been invited to maybe a gala or two, you know what I mean? It'd be awkward. He'd be slurping out of the fucking teacup, there'd be stains on the table, he wouldn't really fit in, but he’d fucking love being there. - Colin Farrell

Mirroring the scene in Episode 01 where he adjusts himself next to the car, scuffing himself up to look like the sleazy funnyman the Falcones keep around for kicks, now he's dressing up as much as he can and asking Victor for input, because he truly values what the kid thinks and, goddamnit.

"C'mahn, I don't bite", pfft yeah, not in this movie universe anyway. And to the same guy you did the nose-gushing-blood bit to, even.

Minutes inside of City Hall and he already parks his ass right on Bella Real's seat - not as any kind of intentional slight against her, it's just naturally where he goes to, even before the scene ends and we see his new plans start to come to fruition.

Guy who takes offense at Viti calling Sofia a psycho and then goes up to Councilman Hady talking about the unhinged loony bin broad who went "full psycho" that he's handing to him on a platter, pointedly calling her Falcone.

At first I thought it was funny that Sal Maroni was getting blamed here for Bliss and the underground lab, but then I remembered that he was actually the one who introduced Drops to Gotham and the whole epidemic that became, so if anything it is an extremely easy part of the story to sell, even without his body being down there and all.

"You're gonna have some trouble, Oz" - pointedly smiling and calling him Oz instead of Oswald as he had up to this point, because by that point he's already a crony and already willing to work with this guy handing him all these miracles.

"You wanna be welcome? You gotta look, clean" Yes Father Pal, I Shall Become A Capitalist Caricature

You can see in the walk around, in his look at Bella Real and the mayor's office high up above and the steps, how little Ozzie's gears turn once again and rebuild his life after losing the streets and everything that happened with Ma - This is the next nest, this is the next throne, this is next schmuck I gotta cozy up to, this is the next boss looking down on me that I gotta destroy, there's the reward waiting for me if I do. This is the one that matters, I did everything in the shit and now I'm gonna get me sum goddamn respeck, Feh Ma of course.

And before all of this we see Sofia's next move, showing the ways in which she is good at this, the ways in which she truly is something outside of the worldview of what these gangsters are used to, and why she is going to lose. "Because I can". She is good at commanding a room and promising rewards beyond the wildest dreams of these street crimelords because she can offer everything they want and lose nothing she cares about for it, she will hand them everything and dip because she can, and she is going to lose because she can lose. Because she still thinks there is an end in sight for her, she thinks she will get to walk away from this universe and go meet a happy ending at a cafe in Florence.

It's not just that Sofia was born into privilege and never really lived in Gotham and could just hop onto a plane out of here anytime, it's also that she has room in her life for introspection, self-awareness, consideration towards others, and all those things that come easier when you're "born full", and not when you're the starving hustler for whom leaving the city was never an option even if he had all the money in the world, the hungry animal who wants this, wants everything, harder than anyone has ever wanted anything. The guy who has no room for anything else in his brain other than a perpetual bullshit generator set to a 24/7 chorus of "I GOTTA WIIIIIIN"

Another element to her that I really love is, she's good at this. She knows she's good at this, she was supposed to take over the family. She may not know the ins and outs of the game as it currently stands, but she is good at this. Some of it is, I think that's the only world she knows, and some of it is there's something in there, that's always been there, and she believes it is rightfully hers. There's an element of, "I need to have made it worth it for something", and if that means power, then okay. - Cristin Milioti

There’s a level for both of them that they enjoy each other’s suffering, and that sort of leads to Sofia’s downfall. If she didn’t need to see Oz suffer she might have been free. And she really gets in her own way in that regard and largely because Oz is this crutch that she just cannot let go of. - Lauren LeFranc

And here we get to the end of season 1 of HBO's The Sofia Show, the bittersweet in hindsight but extremely cathartic torching of the set as a last hard-earned spiritual victory by our hard-done-by lady protagonist. All of her family is dead, the city is out for her blood, she gathered all the remaining criminals for One Last Job with everything on the line, and she is having a very fun time with her montage destroying her home and family name beyond recovery. She is going to finish her character arc, get to finally kill her former comedy sidekick turned mortal nemesis, and hop on a plane to The White Lotus resort straight away into greener (if only marginally less fucked up) genre territory away from this ugly nightmare city. Alas, this is not The Sofia Show, and it's time for her theme suite to catch up to her once again and tell us of how very badly this is all going to go for her.

And she can't even be that shocked, when the high of burning it all down goes away, when she sees that old Ozzie Cobb wriggled his way out of this jam regardless and is now coming at her with a speech, she can't even react to it. Deep down she knows how the rest of the night is going to go. She may not have expected Arkham outright, but she was braced for a loathsome fate.

It rules so much they give him a big fat fight the power speech with a bloody revolution montage, and we can only sit there aghast with Sofia at the sheer audacity of him to act like this, like a man of the people, thinking he truly has the right to be talking like this and to her of all people.

And now we see how Oz won the gang war, and the next domino to fall on the downfall of Gotham City, and the first effect of his own rise to power: like The Riddler, he has toppled the order of things and he has turned people into extensions of himself, Victor being the first and the one who gave him this revolution, of all the little mini Penguins out there devouring the social structure of Gotham crime forever. You kill the boss, you become the boss now. Everyone can bleed and everyone can be killed and everyone must be killed in the quest to the top, no handrails or codes, they wouldn't invite him and so he crashed. After he unified the criminal underdogs, Victor rallied the underdogs beneath the underdogs, and now the streets are a jungle where there will never be an end to the wars over who gets to be atop the food chain, because they are all fighting to see who gets to be the next Penguin.

For decades people have written Oswald Cobblepot as a creep and a sleaze and an incel who hurts/kills women for rejecting him, or who is chronically insecure about them and I can very confidently say nobody ever did anything half as horrible and half as truthful and half as meaningful as LeFranc did here. We see the other reason why it was so imperative to her that Oswald not be a misogynist, and it has nothing to do with just making him more likeable or sympathetic or honorable. We get in this episode the pay off to the thoughtline: okay, he's actually a gangster who respects women, he does not act like every other prestige drama gangster who ever lived, we are going to center women in this show and he will treat them with respect - now let's watch how he HORRIBLY screws them over in the name of this respectful gentleman persona he lives by, let's watch how he betrays them in the ways that matter most, how he even makes them wish they were dead without personally ever lifting a finger to harm them, let's do some grown-up feminist commentary in Batman for a change and highlight the ways in which men profit from belittling and oppressing and destroying women even when they're pointedly not misogynistic and even self-professed genuine allies to them.

And so it is that the only Falcone mobster who isn't misogynistic towards Sofia is the one who screws her the most horribly. He will murder every man he comes across, he will murder every man he could have been and every man who is even marginally better than him in any way, he will push all of his brothers out of the nest and not tolerate any other big shot in town bigger than him and not even the only man, the only person, in town who loves him will be spared. But he is a gentleman, so he leaves the women alive (well, except for Nadia Maroni, but she was a rival big shot and worse, his boss for a day or two, so she obviously had to go eventually).

I thought about his greatest fear, and it made a lot of sense to me that his greatest fear would be that love is transactional. That if he does not achieve a level of power and give Francis certain types of things that he’s promised her she might not love him. And that informs every relationship he has on the show It was always important to me, and this was always part of my initial pitch, that if Oz was to achieve a level of power—and that is something that was not up for discussion, that was my job that I was tasked with for the season—that he has to lose something emotionally. It can’t come without a cost. - Lauren LeFranc

"the crooked politics that have allowed wealthy elites like Sofia Falcone to wreak havoc". Oz has weaponized the status quo against her so throughly that she is going away under the exact same image that she did it the first time, as a privileged serial killer and Falcone. She doesn't even get to have her new name anymore, and the rest of Gotham does not see her as the new and strange and horrific new threat that she embodied in Oz's life - she is going away as just another upper-class monster like her dad.

The triumph that Oswald has fought his entire life for, the Big One that he's scraped and fought and hoped his entire life would happen and he'd get to show his Ma at the end, the thing that he's going to throw a party for at this moment, is just a politician on tv saying things that Oswald claims he told him to say.

All of our 3 major supporting characters will thus reach the high point of their lives, on the moment before it is ripped away and they are destroyed forever. Francis gets to finally spit all of her hatred back to Oz and take her revenge on him, and her babies appear before her alive and unharmed. Sofia gets to burn down her father and his legacy once and for all, and is on her way to kill her nemesis and finally be free of it all. Victor succeeds in helping Oz win, they have revolutionized the gangs and defeated the big bad Falcone and he's done right by his new family what he couldn't do with his old one.

And of course, Oswald finally wins - he is the last man standing, he's defeated his greatest enemy, he is the big shot of Gotham and his victory is, so he claims, right there on the tv for his Ma to see, he can finally get what he's always wanted now - and then he doesn't, and then his soul crumbles, before he finishes the job by murdering his heart.

Oz didn’t need to do that, like it wasn’t actually necessary. In that moment, Victor did not betray him. He did nothing wrong. In fact, the thing that he did “wrong” in Oz’s eyes is that he loves him and that he cares about him and Oz actually cares about Victor. I think by the end Oz sees that as a really big problem because he loves his mother so deeply and Sofia took advantage of that love, and then it became sort of a weakness in his eyes. Victor saw him at his most vulnerable and for Oz to achieve the power that he thinks he needs, he can’t have that level of humanity. He can’t have that heart with him anymore. So he stifles his own heart. He kills it. - Lauren LeFranc

When he said to Vic in the sewer, “They'll tell stories about us one day, kid,” he meant it. At that stage, he actually saw that he could rise and Vic could come with him. It's only when the vulnerability and the shock of his mother being taken from him, and the place of vulnerability and danger that puts him in, that he realizes there's no more love, there's no more affection, there's no one else I'm going to have in my life that can lead me to such vulnerability as my mother has led me to or as this kid could potentially lead me to. - Colin Farrell

He's not relishing being horrible. When he realizes, "Oh God, Victor makes me vulnerable. I can't have that shit anymore." The way that Lauren wrote it, and the way Colin played, there's such sadness under the horror. You're like, oh my God, how fucked up do you have to be that the one person who you feel you have any connection with now, you have to snuff out because it makes you weak. What happened to you? - Matt Reeves

"You think she forgives me?" Once again, the mask cracks. Only around Victor. Only because of Victor. And he can't have that again.

And thus we get to the final parallel between our 3 side characters - that in the end, all they did was serve Oz's own rise to power, and hand him the world in exchange for their lives. All they were to him were additional steps in the ladder that began with his brothers. Francis gave him his life, his drive, his motivation and eternal justification, the insatiable pit in his gut driving him to do this forever. Sofia got him his promotion to Falcone lackey, and then she got him another promotion by handing him the tools with which he could become an underground boss and rally them, and then she got him another promotion by handing him the keys to his political career on a silver platter. And Victor saved his life, more than once. He helped him, provided the justification he has craved for a lifetime, rebuilt him, gave him his revolution, gave him the streets, and showed him the last thing he needed to kill to make it to the top.

Wow man let me tell my good friend, The Family Butcherer, who butchers every family he gets his hands on whether a crime family or a literal one, how much I think of him as family.

"They don't give out awards for dying in the projects"

Just like with Squid, Vic's emotional intelligence dooms him. He sees this man whom is like family to him brought to his lowest point, crushed beyond measure, in what he assumes was just a phenomenally terrible stroke of fate and not something he had any blame whatsoever for, and reaches out to pat him in the back, emotionally reassure him that it wasn't all for nothing, that his family would surely be proud of him, and that there's things to look forward to.

Vic threw away his chance to walk away into the sunset with Graciela and he just had to come back to save Oz (AND Sofia, the one who'd bomb his neighborhood) from the Maronis, the least of all possible evils in his life and his city and who never even noticed him. Victor only narrowly missed out in 2 situations that Oz would have absolutely left him to die in, so there just had to be a third where he'd die in the absolute worst way possible. Not with Sofia's gunshot to the head, not bombed to rubble along with his neighborhood, no, Mr. Carmine 2 had to make it as painful and intimate as possible.

Vic the only Number Two in town who couldn't kill his boss and in fact never even considered doing so, and so he dies - there is just no room for him anymore, not in Oz's life, nor in the new Gotham that the two built together.

LEFRANC: "You see Oz become this next level monster, I remember the take too. Jennifer and I look at each other, Colin transforms his face in this really remarkable way, that I don't think any of us fully anticipated could be achieved in that way." - The Penguin Podcast Episode 8

I knew that the general sentiment was that, by the end, they kind of wanted to, in a way, kill the Oz that we met in the film. I felt that there was a sense of creative responsibility that leaned towards, “We cannot have this man as a likable character,” which is hard I think they wanted that in the earth by the end of the eight hours. They wanted that RIP. That's gone. I hated that scene. I really did. I was fucking so pissed off. It felt in performing it as — guess what? — you would like it to feel in viewing it. It felt gross, it felt cruel, it felt absolutely insane, and it felt like Oz was reaching a point of no return. - Colin Farrell

So the day after I watched this episode, my friend Lucas messaged me in the afternoon sending me audio messages, "Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! He stole his identity, he didn't even die with his fucking name! They'll never find him! Fuck, goddamnit!" "ELE MORREU COMO INDIGENTE, PORRA" and, yeah. Yeah. That gets to the heart of it.

If Vic was just a guy taking his money, if Vic was purely transactional, if he was just another Link, he'd have made it. Oz wouldn't have given a shit about him, Oz would have died on the sidewalk when the Maronis hit at minimum. All this piece of shit wants is love, and when he gets it, when it's finally non-transactional, from the ONLY person in the entire show who loved him, he has to kill it, he doesn't know how to deal with it, he has to smother his heart.

He has to become Carmine Falcone 2, strangling the poor and vulnerable of Gotham while pinning all of his crimes on Sofia.

Vic just wanted his family back, man. He just wanted a family again, to at least show his family that they didn't die for nothing. The thing that Oz spits in his face as he dies. It wasn't for nothin.

This show has so many dozen little variations of Penguin getting his heart broken and retaliating cruelly, but this one hurts the most partially because it has no basis whatsoever on any pre-existing insult or cruelty, there was nothing that warranted this, and you still get why Oz felt that he had to do it. The lowest, weakest moment of his life, and he can never permit anything like it ever again.

Victor was his heart, and The Penguin remembered that his heart only exists to be broken.

Victor punctures the illusion, and he cannot have that. Everything about The Penguin hinges on that singular fact of his life: he cannot and will not break character. He cannot break character, otherwise he dies, otherwise Gotham City will eat him alive, otherwise he has done it all for nothing. That is the ultimate threat Sofia posed to him, and why his ultimate victory comes only from creating a perfect delusion and spinning everything that happened in service of it. Because all those things said at Monroe's? They weren't true - his Ma, y'know, it was just her disease acting up, that psycho did something to her, she wasn't thinkin straight, and it was really Sofia that stabbed him and did all that fucked up shit, and his Ma is really happy that she got the penthouse in the end and that he didn't put her down, look, she's crying tears of joy even, I gotta keep doing everything for her.

Everything and everyone in his life, he can spin in service of the delusion, they can all play dress-up with him forever, except Victor. Victor may not have the slightest clue as to what Oz actually did, but he's seen too much, he knows he has vulnerabilities, he knows the thing that Oz needs to bury far, far more than all the horrible things he's done. Killing Victor is maybe the one thing that he absolutely cannot in the slightest spin a decent delusion out of, that he did it for him or did it for noble reasons or anything other than out of disgusting self-serving weakness.

But who's Victor? Some kid who died in the projects and didn't even have a name? Someone with nobody left to mourn him, not even a street to get back to, nothing but a guy who's already forgot him?

That Victor Aguilar? Never heard of him

“I will never think my mother doesn't love me. She was having a bad day when she stuck that bottle in me. She was under a lot of pressure. She nearly lost her finger. She stuck a bottle in my belly. It was a bad day. She didn't get a good night's sleep the night before.” It's that kind of thing. He'll make up fucking whatever. He's already lying when he goes, and he's stitching up his belly, and Vic says, “What happened?” And he says, “Sofia, she stuck me with a bottle.” He's already beginning to bury the truth. - Colin Farrell

He needed your love, and then you didn't give it to him, and you didn't obey, and you didn't do those things that he needed, and then you mentally aren't there for him in the way that he needs, but he's got to physically keep you around because he's too weak to not do that. He can't give you the gift that he promised you in Episode Six, he's too weak of a man to do that. And so he needs to hold onto you, but under his terms. - Lauren LeFranc

There's a thing that happened on that last day that made my blood run cold, which was I felt Oz not love me anymore. I felt his coldness, and I think that Francis felt it too, and she always had so much of his attention and so much of his love. I don't even think she realized how much she had until he withdrew it. And when he withdrew it, it was utter and… slightly terrified. I was just lying in that bed, I just felt the love leave the room. It's a real thing, and it's gone, yeah, and I think Francis feels it, too. - Deirdre O'Connell

He's this man who is clawing his way to the top, and I knew he wanted power, but what what does that mean for him? That's where I started to conceive of like, he wants his mother's love, and he wants people's affection. He wants to be revered. That was like the main thrust for me of what defines power for Oz, and then by the end you realize that, when he doesn't get those things, he doesn't get his mother's acceptance, he still gets it. He makes sure he gets it. - Lauren LeFranc

So bowled over and miserable I was that I didn't even notice until later that he was wearing a version of the classic Bronze Age/Triumphant get-up.

If the pattern of his life is unjustifiably cruel retribution for slights and insults, perceived or not, by the end Francis had done it to him as well. That she never loved him and in fact always hated him more than anything and anyone else is the biggest insult of all, and so he punishes her the most cruelly, knowingly or not.

"You are who you are, and you couldn't change if you tried."

He will never stop telling Rex Calabrese stories, he will never stop bringing up his brothers and mom as a sympathy ploy, and even if he will never truly love her again, he will never stop ruining the world in her name, he will never stop, he will never stop, he will never stop.

You had to sit through 8 hours chipping away at all of his fun and charm and wacko comedy antics and motivations and all the scruples and principles that he turns out to have less and less of, until he butchers them all in the very end along with the heart of the show. Penguin burning through all of his lovable quirks and charm, everything that we loved about him in the movie, until he comes through as a black-hearted bastard of unlimited malice who will never stop growing and getting worse and putting more lives in danger. Not only as much of a lowlife backstabber as we initially assumed him to be in the movie, but far worse than what we could have imagined.

I said as much that the first episode marks the transition from The Batman to The Penguin with the titlecard, and this brings it back around. The show dies with Victor, we get Sofia's post-credits Nick Fury Tease with Selina's letter and with Selina's theme playing and a final grace note of hope for Sofia, and thus the only character in the show to end with anything resembling positive, and then we get the first scene of The Batman Part 2. showing us the horrible thing in this world that Batman will have to defeat for us.

RIP Bella Real, we all know this asshole is gonna become mayor, and he's not waiting for the next election.

Credit to @book--wyrm for pointing out one more horrible fucking thing, that at the final dance, his hands are covered in scratches, much like the hands of Carmine Falcone when he comforted Sofia.

“One of the very early things that Lauren pitched was that ending with Eve where she looks like Francis,” said Reeves. “He can’t get what he needed from his mother because she’s no longer in that state because of the dark events and what he’s done, so he recreates it in this other way with Eve, and it’s very disturbing,” said Reeves. “That was something we thought was a great idea and was so emblematic of this guy’s internal state. It’s like, even as he now seems to have gotten that first major step toward being the kingpin, you know that some part of him will never be filled. - Matt Reeves

When I read that, I was like, “Oh my god, we're going full Bates Motel here.” But again, it speaks to what has become a pathological inability to accept the world that he has played such a heavy hand in creating. As far as he's concerned, he's just doing what he needs to do to live the life of a good son. And look, his mother can't talk anymore, so he needs a surrogate. I mean, it would be kept out of the sexual realm — it wasn't about that. It was about the intimacy and the tenderness and the pride that Oz always so deeply needed to feel his mother had for him, and pride in him, that he never really got from her. The one time when he finally can say to her, can go to her bedside and say, “It's done. Everything you said that I was capable of, everything you said that I should aspire to, it's done. I am now the boss. I took it from everyone else.” And he gets nothing back. His mother's already gone. That's just too horrific for him, so he needs a surrogate. He would say to Eve, “Look, I'm grieving. I'm finding it hard to deal with the fact that my mother's alive, but she's not here. She's gone, but she's fully present at the same time, physically, but she's nowhere there. She doesn't recognize me. I don't recognize the woman she's become. Do me a favor. We used to dance together and talk at the end of the night. Would you put on her dress and just let me pretend?” But it was twisted. It was twisted, but I dug it. He needs it from his mom so much. And again, his imagination is so potent that he just cast her as that figure, that most prominent and most powerful figurehead in his life, which has always been his mother. She's got to stay alive. He's got to hear that he did well from her. He's got to hear that she's proud. Look, by the end, he's bananas, as they say in the film. Good cop, batshit cop. At the end, he's batshit. - Colin Farrell

Remember when this show had fun Dolly Parton end credits, remember when this almost looked like it was gonna be fun and light-hearted compared to the movie and The Riddler: Year One

So turns out all along they actually had something real twisted planned with the name Karlo, and the Clayface concept that evokes. Asking his prostitute girlfriend to shapeshift into his crying comatose mom in the room upstairs so he can finally get the dance with her atop the world that he craved his entire life and have her tell him how proud she is that he ruined everything forever.

It is not a good ending, but it is his happy ending. He achieved everything he wanted in the smallest possible amount and at the highest cost imaginable, and thus he burns more than ever to take more and more in the name of a satisfaction he will never, ever have. He ended his arch-nemesis, and he didn't have to kill her, that's not what a gentleman does. He got the streets, and he's poised to take political power, and there is nobody left to care about, nobody except the only person who's ever mattered. He can still keep taking care of Ma as a justification for all the shit he will do now and forever, but he doesn't actually have to take care of her anymore, he doesn't even have to love her or grovel her for validation anymore: He has a Ma who will tell him everything he wants to hear, forever.

Of course, he may not have his three dance partners anymore - his Ma is in a vegetative state, Sofia has been locked away once again, and that kid, what was his name again, ain't around. But then, he will simply move on to new ones: He didn't actually lose his first dance partner, his Ma is fine, look at her telling him how proud she is of him and everything he's done and how unstoppable he is now. And he has a new partner in City Hall who is all too eager to play along to everything he says and does, who will receive and spit back his rhetoric just as Vic did to the streets of Gotham. And if he's defeated his nemesis and dance partner, well, not for long. There's a new one waiting for him. He never wins without losing. He will never again live without his next dance partner there to hound and foil him at every turn. There will always be something in the way.

It was exciting to me, the idea that we’re going to meet Oz as a mobster, and to play him as just a man. There’s nothing fantastical about him. There’s so many people like Oz in our world who hold a lot of power, who also connect with people because they speak, on some level, the truth. They can be charming and engaging, but also really terrifying and calculated, and not necessarily doing what they say that they will do or caring for people in the way that they say that they will. It felt so timely and so important to really engage with a guy like Oz and not turn away from him, but actually turn towards him so we can start to unpack, in our own society, what makes a man like Oz so appealing, and what makes him equally appalling. - Lauren LeFranc

I think Oz has always been someone who believes that everything he’s saying in the moment is true, and he creates worlds and illusions for himself to merit his actions. He does it sometimes very briefly in impulsive moments, and then sometimes more methodically, and in the end the fact that he didn’t get from his mother what he’s always desired isn’t good enough for him. So he has to create this strange fantasy live in this delusion of his own making, and pay Eve to dress as his mother and force her to tell him he she’s proud of him. So mentally, emotionally, Oz is embracing his own delusion. I think, for the audience, I hope they more deeply understand him psychologically and realize that there is a deeply broken man inside. He is violent and problematic and and very emotional. And that’s really the man that will carry into the next film. - Lauren LeFranc

And it has to end in a total reversal of the movie ending - The Batman ends with showing there is a light in the darkness, that this tortured broken man can fix his mistakes and lead us into something better. The Penguin ends by grabbing your face and desperately yelling at you SOMEBODY FUCKING SAVE US, HE WILL ONLY GET WORSE. The Batman ends with telling us Batman can save us all, and The Penguin ends with telling us Penguin will kill every last one of us in real life if he hasn't already, if nobody stops him.

And so I'll leave these last partings words to the Penguin Braintrust as we close off this series - see you all in therapy and in theaters when The Batman: Part 2 drives us all completely insane once more.

@wil4x

I don't think this Penguin is someone Batman can tolerate, I don't think Bruce can ever save Gotham's soul with a force of corruption as big as Penguin taking root in the seats of power. No amount of informant work can justify letting a monster like Penguin stay "King of Gotham". I think there's an argument to be made that Oz is a bigger threat to Batman's overall long-term mission than guys like Joker or Riddler. Those are huge immediate threats, but Penguin does a lot more long-term damage to the very soul of Gotham and its people. As long as The Penguin is on top, there's no hope, Gotham will never not be the most corrupt and nightmarish place on earth with him in charge

@book--wyrm

He will truly climb anything no loss so great it can't be flipped into an asseet A nuke Francis armed out of pain and grief and desperation and despair And poor vic Only wanting to do good And instead he saves gotham’s own typhoid mary of misery

@davidmann95

so the thing is Oz kills hope for Gotham forever in this

he's replacing the mayor who stands for hope at the end of The Batman with a corrupt comics rando built on a lie so he can install himself as the power behind the power forever Batman can't be alluded to in the slightest until the very end because it can't be until there's no lingering 'aw, I don't want my boy to get Batman'ed' it can't be until we understand truly and completely why this man proves the necessity of someone out there to stop him

The other stabs at this with Oswald, from what I’ve seen, are trying to make him low-down and dirty and vile enough to be a ‘proper’ Batman villain. But this already made him low-down and dirty and vile. And made us love him for it. This isn’t about ‘fixing him’, this is about taking him all the way to the top He’d accept no less

This is about making him operatically nightmarish enough to be a guy Batman is going to fight forever

Lucas

VENGEANCE, GET OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

[consistencynevermether]

Hiii, I just want to say that the vere fics (winter nights and spring flowers) you did is sooooooo good! Like, I've reread it multiple times because I just love it lol.

Sooo, my request is:

Cupping and pinching vere's cheeks!! Idk why I but I think his cheeks would be sooo soft like a marshmallow. You can do this however you want! (I just have this urge to pinch his cheeks whenever I see him)

I feel like I took this ask WAY to seriously but I hope this is close to what you were looking for! :)

content: Vere x gn reader, sfw, cannon typical swearing and violence, 1k words

Objectively speaking, you knew you were in the wrong. It was you who had been in a bad mood, you who had decided to be snippy to others, and it was your fault Vere had decided to flip you off as you stormed off to your room after you had decided to start up some petty argument about who knows what. 

Your bad mood started this morning when you were out walking with Kuras and Mhin. They knew you and Vere were closer than most, and began to poke and prod with questions subtly. Nothing You couldn’t brush off easily though.

The issue came when Mhin made a joke, asking if the markings on his face felt the same as his skin or if they were more rough. You had no idea of course, with your hands constantly bandaged. You had mumbled something to shift the conversation and stewed in unwarranted anger. You knew why you couldn’t touch Veres' face, but it pissed you off nonetheless. You desperately wanted to know the answer to Mhin’s little question.

And admittedly, you were a little touch starved. You could only fantasize about touching someone’s face.

At the core of the issue, you were upset about what your curse took from you, not just that you couldn’t touch one person's face. 

Which is how one offhand comment puts you in a sour mood for the rest of the day. And when Vere came to meet up with you in the afternoon, you were all too quick to lash out in annoyance. 

Vere of course reacted in kind, being just as snippy to you as you were to him. Which only infuriated you more. Of course you being irrational upset and him not really giving a fuck about your pissy mood, he easily managed to get the upper hand in the conversation. 

You had already decided to be petty today, so the conversation ended with you storming upstairs to your room above the wet wick, slamming the door in quite a dramatic fashion. 

(un)Fortunately for you, Vere wasn't quite done with you just yet, as he barged into your room, feeling no need to knock, and sitting on your desk chair. Fluttering his eyelashes and giving you a playful wave, he sat there silently, obviously waiting for an apology. Seems he wasnt that mad at you, considering he was already trying to get on your nerves again. 

Gods above he couldn’t give you a moment's peace could he? But irritatingly enough, you did owe him one. An apology that is. 

“Ugh. I'm sorry, alright? Can you leave now?” you said, finally breaking the silence. 

“Wow. such heartfelt and poetic wording. How could I not accept?” Vere’s sarcasm was evident in his tone. 

“I. am. Sorry.” you spat through gritted teeth. 

“Glad to hear it. Care to elaborate on what I did to piss you off so much?” he questioned. 

“You didn't do anything, Vere. That's why I said I was sorry.” 

“Then what's got you in such a foul mood?”

“It's stupid.” you admitted. 

“Knowing you, probably. But I'd still like to know who or what made you so upset. If you want I can make someone disappear. I've been needing something fun to toy with for a while.” Vere smirked while admiring his claws. Clearly enjoying the thought of the hunt. 

You sighed. “Well Mhin asked-”

“I get to kill Mhin??” Vere asked, a wide smile cracking across his face.

“No!” you admonished.

“Bore.” he huffed. 

You both lapsed back into silence, Vere clearly waiting on an answer. You were determined not to embarrass yourself further, and Vere finally realized you didn’t want to talk about it. 

Eventually when your annoyance faded, you were simply left with curiosity. It couldn’t hurt to ask surely. 

“Hey, Vere? Do your face markings feel any different than like… the rest of your face? Like is it fur?” You cautioned. 

“Want to find out?” He smiled.

Back to the crux of your problem. You could feel your sour mood returning.

“Well I can’t exactly check can I?” You snapped while raising your bandaged hands. “It’s not like I can-“ 

Before you could finish your sentence, Vere tackled you, nearly knocking you from your sitting position at the edge of the bed, and smushing the side of his face to yours, holding your face up to his. It almost reminded you of a cat rubbing the side of their cheek to your hand. 

“What are you doing?!” You exclaimed. 

“Well? Do the markings feel different?” He laughed. 

You pried your face from his, fighting laughter. 

“No. Feels about the same.” You smile.

“Question answered.” he responded. 

You couldn’t help but reach out and cup his cheeks, giving them a squeeze. 

“You're certainly acting more affectionate than usual.” You stated. 

“You were in a bad mood.” He shrugged. “Feeling less likely to bite my head off now?” 

“Only if I can keep squishing your face” you countered. 

“You have 30 seconds left” he deadpanned.

You shrugged and began to pinch his cheeks together, contorting his stoic expression with your bandaged hands. 

“Alright, that's enough” Vere declared, removing your hands from his face. 

You just smiled and moved to run your fingers through his hair. Before moving your hand down to cup his cheek one last time. Unconsciously you felt Vere nuzzle into it, just a little, before he pulled away.

“Thanks.” you smiled.

“Buy me a drink and well call it even” 

“Deal, let's go.”

[doberbutts]

I’m kinda new to tumblr so idk if this is like, improper, but that recent shit about your folks sucking was rough. just like, to read. I can’t even imagine how hard it sucks to be there right now. but idk I wanted to shoot an anonymous ask and just be like “hey you’re gonna make it” which I know you already know but figured it would be nice to hear from someone else too, so. hang in there fellow trans person and fuck your family’s behavior

Oh I never did really fully explain what was happening did I?

My great aunt died on December 1 and it wasn't particularly unexpected (she was very old, and her husband died a few years ago on Dec 3) but it was quite sudden and without much warning. I drove to my parents' house to mourn and help with funeral arrangements and it was my first time visiting since right before covid and also since starting medical transition. I figured I'd be enduring a lot of misgendering and the like but wanted to be there for my aunt because I had a lot of wonderful memories of celebrating Christmas at her house with her and my uncle.

An assortment of little comments added up over the next 24 hours until my mother effectively called me stupid unprompted to my face as I drove her from my sister's house back to her own, because I'd said that my niece and nephew were quite smart and that wasn't an abnormality within our family. This is referring to my graduating at 16 and testing well into genius for my IQ, my sister winning several national awards for her poetry and essays, my adult nephew graduating at 17 and only because of an August birthday, both of my parents having masters degrees they earned on scholarships they were given due to their own strong writing, etc and now my niece is skipping a grade and my nephew is averaging well above his grade level and likely will skip a grade too. So I said something about being a family of smart kids and my mom more or less went "well one of my kids isn't very bright" and then looked hard at me.

I'm the only college drop out of my siblings, and with a worse gpa. It's also not the first time she's called me stupid but normally not in so many words or out of left field like that so it cut pretty deep especially considering all the other bs I'd been putting up with since arriving.

I voiced discomfort with what I had (correctly) assumed she meant as a joke, which turned into an argument, which made me have the realization that this is not my home and has not been my home in some time and in fact the reason my mental health improved rapidly when I left is because I got away from her and all of her nasty little comments she doesn't think are a big deal and now I'm having a panic attack and oh- this is a trauma response. I am back in the same house, the same bedroom, the same situation, and I am being triggered, and I am having a trauma freak out, and it has been a very long time since this place and these people have been anything but detrimental to me.

TO HER CREDIT she did come into my bedroom late that night and stated that she couldn't sleep because she felt awful because clearly she seriously misstepped and did not actually mean to hurt me this badly but at that point the damage was done. We talked it out and then we both cried ourselves to sleep in our respective bedrooms and then I woke up with covid the next day and drove the 5 hours back home so I could access healthcare in my state with my state insurance.

And I don't think I will ever go back there willingly, at least not to stay overnight. I'll come up with a reason that I have to stay at a hotel or something.

So anyway long story short the issue was relatively shortlived and I am now back to normal but WOW that was a BAD night. I have not had a night like that in a very long time.

[volkswagonblues]

@alluroa asked me about book recs, so I'd thought I'd do a combined

2023-24 fav books in review

I've grouped them together in pairs for thematic relevance

The God of the Woods // North Woods

God of the Woods is set in a girl's summer camp in the 1970s; North Woods is a long American historical novel that traces the history of one patch of New England land from the first European settlers onwards. I them together because they cover similar geographical regions. I thought both of them had an incredible sense of time and place, very good if you enjoy new england

2. Breakfast of Champions // Penance

To me, both are just fucking MASTERPIECES that defy genre. Sorry guys that I'm trying to toot Vonnegut's horn in 2024, like wow, check out this tiny indie writer that no one has ever heard of. But Breakfast of Champions truly feels shockingly fresh for something written fifty years ago. Race inequality, gender relations, the rot of late capitalist America... 1973 Vonnegut had already seen and nailed it all.

Penance by the way is a must read for every tumblrina. It has the most perfect pastiche of fandom I had ever seen, it's got me HOWLING multiple times. And the way that Clark depicts female friendships...it's like those photorealistic dutch paintings of flowers where you can't believe it was painted. I can't believe anyone just. Made this up. Her fucking mind.....

3. The Invisible Kingdom // Strangers to Ourselves

The Invisible Kingdom is about the writer's struggle with chronic illness, which I think precedes long covid but very relevant to the Current Conditions Of Our Times. Stranger to Ourselves's chapter on eating disorders and the chapter on schizophrenia reframed how I thought about those things. Maybe I'm shallow but I genuinely found it so profound in the way it framed mental illness as a "career" that people fall in to. That's a very bad summary. Go read it yourself.

4. The Guest // The Master Key

Okay, sorry, but I felt like the entire world was reading The Guest last summer so I won't explain too much, but I'll say I really like this style of prose. The language is simple, but so elegantly done. Very sharp social satire. I wish I could write like this. The Master Key is a Japanese mystery novel that's a pastiche of the Golden Age of 20th century mysteries. Very classic "locked room" mystery, but with a really brilliant dose of social drama. It's set in an apartment building where only unmarried woman are allowed to live. The tenants who remained after decades are often sad, lonely, and hiding some bizarre secret. So good I almost forgot it's a murder mystery

[i-like-forcefem]

Fuck. I could actually eat you up. I was just going to send you that ask and call it a day. I couldn't resist checking back again, sure, and it was very funny to see how flustered you are - but even then, I wasn't going to interact anymore. I mean, SERIOUSLY love, you sure left enough blood in the water reacting there. I'm sure a sweet girl like you can attract plenty of other well-meaning sharks if you're really thattt intent on flailing.

But then I saw how many times you've posted just thinking about this. I couldn't help reading and rereading you tripping over yourself. I mean, it, is, just, precious, hahaha. I turn your wind-up key once, and this little clockwork doll can't help running round, and round, and round like it's all she's ever been built to do. I don't know which I love more. The carefully spilt nothing-verses of stammering and rambling you had to choose to send (just to make it so clear how much you love playing the role) or some of the genuinely confused typos that show how quickly you really have typed, how head-spun and silly you sincerely have been at points since I said hi. Don't be too enamoured by me, sweetie. It's easy to point out someone's place when you can tell how desperately they want to be there. See how badly you want to play?

And fuck, you're so polite. Shy little thank you ma'ams. All those lovely compliments, peppered with Goshes and Gollies like you were raised puckering up to soap. And doing your best to stress to me, it's okay if I don't dm you, you're just PATHETICALLY grateful, please please please no worries either way but if you want to then it would be REALLY COOL...

How could I not kiss whatever mark I've made better after that???

So hello again, little wound-up doll. Well done on being so sweet - I think you've earned a treat. I'm going to be leaving you again after this, I'm afraid, but don't you worry. You may not know who I am, but I know who YOU are. A very good girl. A girl I could tease by dressing up just how I like her, tracing her collarbone just to hear a sweet little gasp. One I could teach to smile, curtesy, and behave herself as I mould her from silly stuttering mess to my prize possession. One who couldn't ever protest, not about the humiliating things I make her do for my amusement, not of whether her pink face is most perfect thing I've ever had the privilege of prettying, and CERTAINLY not of whether she wants any of it. Because she's been begging for it. And if I have to discipline you over my knee while you read out these transparent confessions you've written here to beg me to perform each and every one, I'll do it until I know you mean it.

But... promise not to tell, but between us, I'd believe you the moment you opened your mouth. Mixed-up things like you are just too concentrated, too serviceable, and too desperate not to be subconsciously squealing the truth. I can always hear it. Look at how you've responded, and tell me that your clockwork wasn't always strung tightly to one place alone. That's not why we play these games.

The secret is, even if a wind-up doll does a very pretty dance on her own, sometimes it's even funner to hold her parts and move them around yourself. I know who you are, cutie-pie. So do you. That's why I want to force you to be yourself anyway.

Keep writing, mkay? I'll be reading, I promise. And smiling.

HOLE FUCK THAT JUST- I-

(follow up on this I-)

Just, THANKS MA'M

Gosh just so amazing like- I, gosh

Can't even think after that one just

Wow

Thanks a lot for the attention Miss, know it's incredibly appreciated, you are so so so talented at um- this >< - and I hope you'll have the enjoyment in this space you deserve (whether sub dom or otherwise)

Gosh just- Incredibly amazing (I, wow gosh, just actually stunned me when I've got places to be and just woke and so flustered and just wow)

-I um, hope my little dances will amuse you Miss

And I'm glad you're not feeling the pressure to do more, just showing up, putting me in my place, and ending it when you see fit

I'm glad you can take care of yourself!!!

I wish you a lot of love and support and nice things!!! Thanks so much for everything

And I hope you'll have a nice day just- yeah gosh wow

[call-me-rucy]

Cetaganda ch. 13

Extreme apologies for the lack of updates recently. Since the last post I have: moved, started a new job, spent like 27h going places in various trains and buses, done my last exam.

In these chaotic times there's nothing I'd like more than a little certainty, so I turn to Miles and his chaos instead.

We were with the plan to retrieve the gene banks (thanks, Ivan!)

Staying at the ambassy just in case someone out there tries to assassinate him is reasonable. Too reasonable. Can't wait to see how he's forced out. Rian?

Miles hoped that Lord X was very, very sorry he had decided on Barrayar. And I'm going to make you regret it that much more, asshole.

Oh Miles I have missed you.

I hope the Key is indeed in a cipher lab so I get to see what a futuristic cipher lab looks in the Vorkosiverse, and compare with labs in real life.

I wonder to what degree Miles' excuse, desiring ship duty, is still true. Like, rn he's at the best position for him, answering only to Illyan and Gregor is where he fits best, I'd say, and he must know this, but 20 years of hopes don't disappear easily. And also that line earlier "Hi, I'm a war hero but I can't tell you why, it's classified". Ship duty are were the public heroes are.

Miles pointed to the ceiling with his thumb. Maybe they're listening to us. Ivan's lips formed two words. Fuck them.

I love the idea of Illyan being a sort of god to ImpSect that lives in the ceiling of all rooms, but I love more the idea of very-human Illyan receiving the recordings of Miles and Ivan's rooms days after the fact and having to listen to them while Miles is right in front of him like "Yeah me and my coz possibly avoided a fourth Cetagandan war. On our own. Neat, right? :3"

Forced outdoors by social events! Wow this is the most terrible thing lol

Maz and Vorob'yev are so getting together.

Yeah, what do they want Ivan for. Is this a case of "No, the Fullmetal Alchemist is the short one"?

NOT KIDNAPPING!! I mean, it's narratively fullfilling and all that because Ivan has been complaining all book about being in danger and specifically Miles getting him in danger BUT NOT IVAN!!! My boy!!

Rian!! Things are moving!!! Aaaaaaah!!

(I'm wondering now what languages are spoken in Cetaganda. Like, Miles has been able to go up and effectively communicate with everyone, including Ba which would have no reason to know languages other than those spoken in the Celestial Garden. And I'm assuming he does so in English? I know that the alphabet in Barrayar is Cyrillic but I feel like it would've come up if they spoke Russian? The recruit at the beginning of TVG destined to languages implies that there is not a magic-translate-it-all-gadget invented just yet, so I'm just finding it interesting that the Cetagandans would speak also precisely the same language. And I don't think there has even been a Cetagandan accent mentioned? As opposed of the Betan accent which does exist. This is all a literary tool for making the writers life easier, like making all days day-lengthy-ish and all years year-lengthy-ish, which is something I totally respect btw, but I find that idea of going to an international interplanetary event and be inmmediately understood by everyone to be very anglophone-y)

(Rucy, it's been three weeks, and now you're going on tangents while plot is happening?!)

(Shhh, I haven't thought about Vorkosiverse in too long, I have to make up for it.)

This isn't Emperor Gregor's Birthday Party, dammit.

AHAHAHAHAH POOR GREGOR

RIAN HAS CAPTURED THE KIDNAPPER BUBBLE! Oh I love competent women as well.

Ivan is alive! Yay! Omg using the "not yet" leitmotif on "Ivan is not dead" is genius. Wish I wrote this good.

ETERNAL PLAN A: LETTING MILES TALK IS DOING WONDERS!!! OH I LOVE THIS!! And its not even his usual "Ill convince you", he's stalling for an old woman to go get help/a weapon. This is amazing. I love this book.

(It was, in fact, a case of "No, the Fullmetal Alchemist is the short one".)

Idk how to tell you this, my boy, but Rian is not likely "Empress of Cetaganda until tomorrow". She's probably "Empress of Cetaganda from tomorrow on" as well.

So, Kety still has the bank. And the Key. And he's on notice. -Damn. What idiot came up with the idea of the banks…? Ah, yes…

Give my other poor boy a break, Miles, he's having a very tough day.

Please, not dead yet. I love a good leitmotif.

WE'RE GOING INNNNNN!!!!

[oneshotfanfichaven]

𝘛𝘦𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 || 𝘞𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘳．．．

18+ 𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙬/ 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴：

✰𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

✰𝘚𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦／𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦

✰𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥

✰𝘙𝘗𝘍

You had a stressful day at work, and it was finally Friday, which meant you could go to the bar. You knew you wouldn't go overboard, or at least you didn't plan to, considering usual you would only drink one or two light drinks before calling a taxi home and asking a friend to take you to pick your car up the morning after.

You were sipping on a fruity drink, sitting on a bar stool, looking around the crowd like you usually do. You were quite a people watcher, watching them get drunk off of their expensive drinks and go home with people they won't even remember in a few weeks.

You may have wished for that once or twice, having someone to go home with, have drunken sex, and fall asleep in their bed... only to wake up, not remember a single thing, and do the walk of shame home... or to the nearest taxi.

The usual crowd was here tonight, along with a few new faces that were probably only here for their friends that were regulars. Your eyes travel to the hall to the entrance, watching a few men walk in.

One was more of a burly man, that had a mustache and mutton chops, who seemed like he was the friend that asked to come to such a place, but the other...

6'4, round glasses, barely any meat on his bones—but that definitely wasn't a problem. He looked like he worked out on occasion too. He seemed like someone that wouldn't come here unless specifically asked, which makes sense.

That's someone I would go home with.

He and his friend make their way to the bar, which you were sitting on the farthest side away from the door of, doing your usual people watching. But this time was different.

He looked over, and he made eye contact, a small smile playing on his lips. He gave a small wave, of which you felt your cheeks start to heat up from. It was just a wave, why are you so nervous?

You give a shy wave back, sipping on your drink. You see him turn to his friend, most likely saying something, but the music and banter around you makes it impossible to tell.

He makes his way over after receiving his drink, splitting through the crowd, giving high fives or subtle 'hey's to those that recognized him. Was he popular in the area or something?

"Hey, I'm Ted. Uh, I'm kinda new around here," he explains. "But you seem a little lonely over here, all by your lonesome." A soft chuckle can be heard from him, despite all the noise around you.

He's charming, and funny too...

"Hey, yeah... just relaxing after work. I'm not usually one to make friends at the bar, so I'm sorry if I seem a little off putting." You sip your drink nonchalantly, eyes locked on his as he smirks.

"Who said anything about making friends?"

You choke on your drink. He was incredibly forward, which wasn't bad, you just weren't expecting it. He chuckles again at your reaction.

"I just thought you seemed pretty... alluring, all by yourself over here. I'm looking to take you home... if you'd like." Ted gives an awkward smile, sipping on the drink he brought over as you recover.

"Oh my god..." you giggle. "Wow, you're... straightforward."

"Is that such a bad thing? I'd rather you not assume anything more. And if you want to turn me down, that's okay too."

"No, it's not a bad thing at all. And... uh..." you think of how to go about your next words.

"You're hesitating. May I ask why?"

"Just... I've never done this before. Go home with a stranger from the bar. Do you mind if we... maybe talk a little more? Just to loosen things up."

"Sure. I don't mind." He pulls out the stool next to yours, sitting down before sipping his drink again.

𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯

You end up talking for a while, and eventually he starts to mumble sweet nothings into your ear.

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you so good when we're out of here. Just you wait," he whispered, his lips grazing by your ear.

"Why wait any longer?" You whisper back, your teeth nibbling his earlobe.

That did enough for him.

He reached into his wallet, pulling out a couple of twenty dollar bills and laying them on the bar under his second empty glass of the night. You had a few more than your usual, trying to make yourself more open to what you were about to do.

"Come on. I'll call us a taxi." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the entrance to the bar, and to the edge of the street. Ted held you against his body, afraid you might fall over thanks to the drinks you'd had.

He holds up a hand towards the way traffic was coming from, which hailed the taxi heading that way. He opened the back door, helping you into the seat as you giggle to each other. He gives the driver his address after he's in, and they pull away from the bar.

𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯

The entering of his apartment was like something out of a movie. Sloppy kisses against the wall, his mustache tickling your upper lip before he finds his keys in his pocket, searching for the proper one and fiddling with the lock for a moment. He finally unlocks the door, pulling you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.

You're both breathing heavily, making out with each other on the way to his bedroom... although he makes it easier, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He carries you back to his room, plopping you on the bed as he fumbles with his shirt. You're both incredibly giggly, but also increasingly needy for each other. You both begin to nearly rip clothes off of one another, moaning and groaning into each other's mouths.

𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯𒀯

The next morning you wake up, your head pounding. That was what you were focused on, before you realize you're in someone else's bed... and naked.

But surprisingly, no one is here with you.

You find your clothes on the floor, slipping them back on, on your way out of the room. Before you make it out, though, you see a note on the bedside table.

“һᥱᥡ, һᥲძ 𝗍᥆ ᥣᥱᥲ᥎ᥱ һ᥆mᥱ ᥱᥲrᥣᥡ. ᥡ᥆ᥙ’rᥱ ᥕᥱᥣᥴ᥆mᥱ 𝗍᥆ ᥲᥒᥡ 𝖿᥆᥆ძ іᥒ mᥡ 𝖿rіძgᥱ ᥆r ᥴᥙ⍴ᑲ᥆ᥲrძ ᑲᥱ𝖿᥆rᥱ ᥡ᥆ᥙ g᥆. һᥲძ ᥲ grᥱᥲ𝗍 𝗍іmᥱ ᥣᥲs𝗍 ᥒіgһ𝗍 ☺︎︎ -𝗍ᥱძ“

You take him up on the offer, grabbing a quick snack before texting your friend to pick you up at his address, which you found on your phone.

And you go back to your everyday routine, picking up your car and going home like nothing happened.