#intrigued by the sixth photo though

[wildsaltair]

it's my official job on this website to provide the absolute worst-quality set photos of Maximus in which it's so grainy you can barely tell it's him. this is an important job

[ilykaveh]

⭒ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 ! I WANNA BE A WH0RE !

[ ALHAITHAM AS YOUR TUTOR . ]

content · fem ! reader, name calling, bimbo reader, alcohol mention, sub ! reader, teasing, degradation, manipulation, alhaitham is a bit toxic, in public, possessiveness, taking and sharing photos without consent, threesome mention, toy use.

· alhaitham hates socializing, let's make that clear. while you may have bumped into him a few times in the corridor or at mandatory school events, the first time that you actually met him was when you were over at his dorm.

· you'd spent a night at a frat party where you had bumped into his roommate, kaveh. the two of you hit it off over a few drinks and a couple of rounds of beer pong — before you knew it, you were on the way back to his place and getting a little bit handsy in the back of the uber ride.

· while you both intended on getting laid that evening, the reality was that kaveh passed out the moment that his head hit the pillow. regardless, you lay in his bed beside him, too tired to care, and fell asleep for the night.

· the next morning, you woke up to cold and unfamiliar sheets. upon checking your phone, you discovered that it was way past two p.m., and you’d missed your morning lecture. after picking up your discarded clothes and any other belongings, you stumbled into the common area whereby you were greeted by your stoic, grey-haired classmate.

· his nose was buried in a book as he sprawled out on the couch, and despite your efforts to make a stealthy exit, you knocked over a rather gaudy lamp. alhaitham’s quick reflexes surprised you as, without moving his gaze from the page, he reached out and grabbed the object before it could hit the ground. you stood there in shock for a moment as he looked at you up and down before breaking the silence, bluntly informing you that kaveh had a seminar to attend.

· the two of you made some light conversation, though it was really just alhaitham making short responses and you trying to be as polite as you could. in all honesty, the man was intrigued by you. he was used to girls in his classes being all over him as a result of his academic prowess and his above average physique. you, however… there was something special about you.

· he ended up inviting you to get some coffee and to go over the notes from the lecture that you missed, and of course you agreed, with the exception that you could go home first to get changed and grab your laptop. although it very clearly wasn’t a date, you hated going out without looking your very best. to your surprise, alhaitham walked you back to your dorm and waited for you to get yourself ready.

· alhaitham clearly overestimated how quickly he would be done with this. reviewing the material covered this morning would typically take him an hour at most, whereas now the pair of you were on your third round of coffee and barely approaching halfway. hell, he was wondering how you ever managed to get into university.

· ever the sceptic, he even debated whether or not you were simply faking your stupidity to get closer to him, but by the way that you left for the bathroom for the sixth- no, seventh time just to redo your lip gloss, he doubted that. how drunk did kaveh have to be to bring you home? maybe you were just an easy fuck; it seemed that much was apparent to alhaitham. he cursed under his breath as he found himself contemplating how much fun his roommate had had the night before with you. he wasn’t a sleeze, but you were practically parading yourself around like a piece of meat in that short pink skirt.

· one coffee date soon turned into permanent tutoring. alhaitham told himself that he was doing it for your good rather than any selfish reasons — surely it's better that you study with him instead of some pervert that would gladly take sex as a payment for their time, right? or at least, that's how it was at first.

· it didn't take too long for alhaitham to become frustrated with your incompetence. he'd explain a given subject three or four times, and you would barely understand the basics even then. everything came to head with him snapping and running his hands through his hair as he called you a good for nothing slut, even going as far as to (rhetorically) ask if you would do a better job if he questioned you whilst having you bent over the table and his cock buried deep inside your whore cunt.

· at first, you were slightly taken aback; it was strange to see a man that typically kept his emotions under lock and key display such an outburst. then you thought about it a little more… maybe he was just giving you a study tip! that sounded more like the alhaitham you knew! he'd never degrade you over nothing, would he?!

· so you did what any sane person would do (or rather, what you thought any sane person would do) and said that you could try that, if he thought that it would help. alhaitham internally rolled his eyes, mentally cursing you for being so astronomically gullible. but after all of the strain that you've put him through, the countless hours of revising powerpoints and testing you with his personal collection of flash cards… he agreed.

· a pg-rated study session soon transformed into something out of a cheap porno. alhaitham prepped you a little, making you sit on the desk that you were using while he fingered you, all the while he recited facts for you to repeat back to him. by the time that you were ready, having reached a point dangerously close to coming undone, he leaned back in his seat and patted his lap, motioning for you to sit on his muscular thigh.

· you didn’t even bother to put your panties back on as you sauntered over to sit on his lap. your skirt rode up, leaving your wet cunt exposed. alhaitham undid the button on his jeans and pulled out his half-hard cock. your jaw almost dropped at the sight of it - it was certainly thicker than any other dick you’d taken, though the length is really what made you drool. your tutor teased your neediness a little before presenting you his idea: he was going to quiz you on some of the material, and if you answered right, you’d get his cock. simple enough… right?

· however, it would be stupid for alhaitham not to take full advantage of the dripping cunt in front of him, and the needy little doll that came attached. every time that you got a question wrong, or if he caught you daydreaming about his cock, he’d punish you. it was lighter at first, for example he reached under your shirt and groped at your breast. after five… no, six, questions, you made the mistake of hesitating and the man grabbed the base of his cock, then slapping the appendage against your pussy. he only smirked as you whined and bucked your hips against him, only for him to remind you that he still had a couple more questions to ask you.

· it was over an hour before you finally got to the end of his impromptu exam, and your demeanour was now akin to a desperate puppy. a pout had taken over your features, and your eyes were becoming increasingly glassy with tears threatening to spill if you didn’t get what you wanted - alhaitham was merely amused by what a delightful situation he’d found himself in, a pretty bimbo sat on his lap and begging him to be touched. you were putty in his very hands, so he saw it fit to allow you to ride him - after all, he was the one doing you a favour, right?

· these little study sessions soon improved your grades, and you were over the moon! upon receiving your results, you ran up to the taller man, who had to catch you before you both toppled over onto the grass courtyard besides the lecture hall. although alhaitham knew that he should be happy for you, the improvement instilled a fear in him: if you were smart enough to get these grades on you own, perhaps you wouldn’t need him anymore.

· that little thought sowed the seed in his mind that soon turned into a fully framed plan. sure, some would argue that it was a little bit manipulative, but it was for your own good, so he wasn’t causing any harm… right? and it certainly wasn’t done with a single ounce of malice, and you seemed to enjoy this little arrangement, so he continued to reason with himself that everything was perfectly fine.

· alhaitham’s scheme was simple: amongst all of the correct information that he taught you during your study sessions, he’d pepper in a few incorrect tidbits. it would prevent you from ever hitting full marks, and you could continue getting your pretty princess cunt stuffed full three or four times a week. he hated to admit it, but your adorable face as he pinned you down against his mattress and rutted into you whilst you recited what you’ve learnt to him. he always made sure that you thanked him for being such a wonderful tutor, and he even fucked you so good that you would agree with every single degrading phrase that slipped past his lips; it ranged from how you really were only good for getting fucked and that maybe you should drop out and become a full time whore to him reminding you that the only way you ever learnt anything was by spreading your legs.

· before you knew it, you were completely and utterly wrapped around alhaitham’s finger. you agreed to anything that he said if he promised that it would help you become smarter and would improve your grades! you even heard him out (and later went along with his plans) when he presented you with a cute pink dildo that you could slip into your panties before a test, and the idea was that you would recall answers easier because you were so used to learning with your cunt wrapped around his own cock.

· that being said, alhaitham was equally enamoured with you. he slowly allowed you to coax him out of his reclusive shell without even realising it himself. you would drag him along to social gatherings and parties - he told himself that he was doing it with your best interest at heart, after all anything could happen to such a dimwitted sweetheart like yourself, especially when you saw nothing wrong with wearing a miniskirt and a crop top out in the february cold. and no, it wasn’t like those fishnet tights or obnoxiously large white boots were doing anything to keep you warm at all.

· various classmates and other students on campus soon had you pegged as alhaitham’s girl, the precious, doe-eyed lamb that followed him around wherever he went and vice versa. other men were too scared to approach you as you had a scowling, grey-haired guard dog few paces behind you shooting them a death glare, and all the girls were insanely jealous about how you managed to bag the man that they’d been fawning over for so long. they even went as far as to gossip about how loose your cunt must be considering you’ve slept with half the guys on campus before him, and that you’d probably get bored and jump onto the next cock within a matter of weeks. alhaitham was quick to ensure that you never heard any of this, no matter how true the aforementioned statements were. a quick few threats here and a him flashing a picture that he’d secretly taken of your cunt struggling to take his cock shut them up rather fast.

· the only person that alhaitham allowed to hear you fuck though, was his roommate. in fact, he’d specifically speed up his pace in order to force louder noises out of your sweet throat in order to remind kaveh of what he had missed out on. he wasn’t totally mean though, no. because alhaitham promised that if you managed to pass this year’s finals, he’d let the blonde join in on your fun for an evening.

[brighteststar707]

Telepathy

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about V and Jumin’s friendship in the context of Seven’s route and the Secret Endings. I really enjoyed writing this and I’m excited to finally share it.

✦ Words:  2.19k

✦ Genre: angst

✦  Warnings: alcohol, death, vague mention of drug use

Throughout Jumin and Jihyun’s friendship, they always shared a mutual fascination for magic. Their young childhood was spent discussing the supernatural, making potions out of the contents of fancy bottles borrowed from home and singing chants they had memorized on the way home from choir.

Jumin can’t say where this fascination started from, only that it became an intrinsic part of the way they viewed the world.

They didn’t lose this fascination as they grew older. Instead, it grew alongside them. They started seeking out new experiences in the hope of experiencing ‘true magic’. Drinking for the first time, staying out all night to watch the sun rise (none of the books they read could agree on a definitive ‘witching hour’) and consuming strange herbs that promised a mind altering state. They’d stay out late in the garden, under the same trees they played under as children and watch the stars, and that in itself was a form of magic. 

As adults, they like to reminisce about their childhood. Memories of old notebooks filled with runes and candlewax, stained fingertips still smelling of perfume, doodles in the margins of textbooks. It’s like a language of their own. Then, over drinks later in the night, their conversations become reverent. Jihyun talks about the things he has seen while travelling, beauty beyond any rational explanation. He speaks so passionately that his cheeks turn pink, and Jumin can’t help but smile.

Even though they talk about it all in the past tense, Jumin is not convinced that they weren’t touched by magic somehow. He doesn’t ever share this, either out of self-consciousness or just because it feels too personal to explain.

It was Jihyun who had come up with the idea of telepathy. It was after they were both let off their punishments for stealing expensive perfumes from home, and they decided it was better if they gave up potion-making for the time being. He had found it somewhere in a book, and Jumin was intrigued by the idea of being able to communicate even when they were apart (he would never admit it, but being alone in his house could get quite lonely).

They spent the next few weeks reading up on the art of telepathy. They sat outside in the garden opposite each other and tried to sending telepathic messages (and more often than not Jihyun would burst into a fit of giggles).

They tried rituals, chanting, drawing matching patterns over their hands, but their heads remained silent. They eventually gave up and decided to move onto magical creatures (their hours sitting on the grass had made them curious about what secrets nature could hold).

It’s easy to write that time off as childhood games, them just playing pretend for a few weeks. Jumin definitely saw it that way for a long time. However, a string of coincidences throughout his life have made him question just how legitimate their rituals were.

Each one of these events went the same way: Jumin feeling a strange sense of anticipation, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, a bubble of excitement in his chest. All feelings that he was certain weren’t natural reactions to his environment.

Then, he would talk to Jihyun some time later and find out that something had happened (he had broken his leg while out taking photos, he had proposed to Rika, he had gotten into a car crash).

Call it a best friend’s intuition. Call it a sixth sense.

He calls it telepathy.

Over the years, he has grown accustomed to this sequence of events. Strange, unexplained feelings accompanied by a call from Jihyun detailing something that had happened in his life. He just accepts it as something they share, another aspect that makes their friendship unique.

At least, that’s how it used to be. He cannot pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, but there is one event that he considers the turning point.

It went the same way it always did. He was sitting in on a very boring meeting, trying his best to look immersed instead of bored, and already anticipating lunch with his father. Out of nowhere, he was hit with a strong wave of fear. His heart started pounding like he had just been running for the past half hour instead of sitting in the conference room. His stomach started doing backflips, and he suddenly lost his appetite.

The feeling had disturbed him so much that he left the meeting early to go and phone Jihyun. He knew with absolute certainty that something bad had happened, and he needed to know how to make it better.

All his calls went to voicemail, and when he finally got through, it was Rika who picked up.  He couldn’t get a clear response from her as to what happened, just empty words meant to pacify him. 

It was a week later when he found out about V’s eyes.

Despite how many times Jumin asked, he refused to speak about the incident and insisted that he was fine. It frustrated Jumin to no end that his friend couldn’t see just now not fine everything was. Despite all his resources and power, he had never felt so useless in his life.

V started to become more secretive, disappearing for long periods of time without any concrete explanation. Jumin’s questions were dodged, and their conversations rarely went beyond surface-level pleasantries.

Despite the growing distance between them, Jumin was still hit with the occasional flashes of telepathy. These days, he considered them more of a nuisance than a gift. They served as nothing more than a disruption to his day, and no matter how many times he tried to reach out, V refused to admit that anything was wrong.

He filled in the space V left in his life by returning to his love for the supernatural. He met strange new contacts through C&R who claimed to partake in the occult. He talked to Elizabeth (and he looked into her eyes and believed she understood him better than anybody else). He sourced rare books from questionable second-hand dealers.

The nostalgia that came with uncovering new information was almost enough to distract from the fear that he was losing his best friend.

It was uncomfortably quiet when Rika died. He had just settled down to enjoy his evening when V called him with the news. He felt his whole body freeze up and go cold as the realization hit him. It only took him a few hours to realize that he hadn’t felt anything at the time he was told she died. His telepathy had failed him when he needed it most.

His grief was compounded by the fear that he and Jihyun had drifted so far apart that he had lost his telepathy all together. He couldn’t handle the idea of losing them both at once.

✧✦✧ ✧✦✧ ✧✦✧

The next two years slip by in a blur of mourning and monotony. Work goes on, and the world keeps turning. Sometimes, he gets goosebumps on a warm day or feels himself growing anxious over dinner, but he writes them off as freak occurrences (and ignores the voice in the back of his head telling him that something’s wrong).

Then, the monotony is disturbed. A stranger appears in the chatroom, causing it to dissolve into chaos. If it wasn’t such a worrying security breach, Jumin would find it amusing.

As if that wasn’t enough, he is hit with a second disturbance, this one more jarring than the last. Like a dulled sense coming back to life, he feels a spark of hope flaring up in his chest. A warmth towards this stranger that is completely foreign to him.

A message.

This is the first real thing V (and by extension Jumin) has felt in a while, and he refuses to let it slip away unnoticed. He knows that this person is important somehow, and so, against his better judgement, he decides to trust them.

V decides to hold a new party, and it feels like the whole RFA has come alive again at the mere thought of holding a party again.

Jumin can’t help but get caught up in the excitement too. His mind is already running through all the possibilities this party will bring. A chance to honour Rika’s memory and to bring everyone together again. An opportunity to see V in person, and for them to patch up the cracks in their friendship. It’s a chance to set everything right again.

The warmth that floods his chest this time is entirely his own. He will do anything possible to make this party a success. For the RFA’s sake. For V’s sake.

It’s a pleasant surprise when V starts appearing in the chatrooms more frequently, another indicator that things are slowly healing. They talk comfortably in the chatrooms without any uncomfortable formality. They poke fun at each other and they even talk about the past. He never realized how much he has missed these moments.

However, his happiness is disturbed by uncomfortable revelations over the next few days. The bomb, the documents, the secrets that still follow V wherever he goes. He hates to admit it, but he feels like he is out of his depth.

He continues to trust V. All they need to do is make it to the party, and then he’ll explain everything. Why can’t anyone else see that? He needs to believe that there is a rational explanation for all of this.

Even when everybody else has lost faith, he will not.

V’s last string of messages in the chat shouldn’t surprise him as much as they do. He should have known better.

There has been a dull pain thumping in his chest since the last message was sent. He’s not sure if it’s V’s or his own. Their pain has become one combined entity, and it’s threatening to consume him completely.

He ignores all of Jaehee’s calls, turns off his phone and digs out a bottle of wine he had been saving to share. 

When he has drunk enough to dull his senses, he lets his mind wander back to his childhood (he always ends up here somehow). He squeezes his eyes shut and conjures up the memory of the garden at his childhood home. Jihyun sitting opposite him, his face still round and boyish. He can almost hear his laugh.

He remembers that feeling of concentration, his entire being focused on sending a message from his mind to Jihyun’s.

It’s a last-ditch, childish attempt, but he tries it anyway.

Can you hear me? I am trying to reach you. Where are you?

Of course, just like all those times before, he is greeted only by silence. He falls into a fitful sleep that night and dreams of sunny back gardens, strong perfume and childhood giggles. 

He loses himself in party planning in the next few days. He only checks the chatroom for updates from Luciel. He is still hopeful that they’ll be able to bring V home, and that he’ll get the chance to make it all right again.

Until it turns to silence.

✧✦✧ ✧✦✧ ✧✦✧

A string of coordinates. Unfinished. No matter, Jumin will find them, one way or another.

*

A message from V (?!). The rest of the coordinates. SOS.

He has never needed a clearer call for help.

*

He remembers ordering Jaehee to call for flight permits. He remembers pacing around his house until it was finally time to leave. He remembers snatches of conversation on the helicopter, only parts of the bumpy flight through the mountains before-

The rest, he cannot (will not) remember.

✧✦✧ ✧✦✧ ✧✦✧

It haunts him in quiet moments. How painless the cut was. One moment he was listening to the security team’s plans, and the next he was aware of a gaping hole in his chest. Like some vital organ had not just shut down, but disappeared all together, leaving an uncomfortable gap in its place.

Even before the helicopter landed, he knew it was all over.

It was cruel, just how quietly V left him. He wishes that it hurt. He doesn’t know what to do with all this emptiness.

He still finds himself searching for that feeling. That part of him that was subconsciously aware of what Jihyun was up to. He brushes against the emptiness expecting to find that familiar feeling and instead finds himself falling, falling...

He doesn’t speak much unless it’s about work. He mostly just drinks instead.

✧✦✧ ✧✦✧ ✧✦✧

Jumin and Jihyun’s friendship was always rooted in a mutual fascination for magic.

He used to value his gift over everything else. Even when it did nothing but frustrate him, he was still thankful for the connection.

He has started giving away the occultist books that used to sit on his desk. He can’t bear to look at the covers and the spells that promise a wide array of powers.

What was the use of him being given this touch of magic just for it to fail him when he needed it most?

[animehouse-moe]

Undead Girl Murder Farce Episode 4: The Headliner Appears

I don't have anything witty to say for this episode. It's good, damn good really. The creativity ascribed to the Nisioisin-esque dialogue extends deep into the foundations of this episode, while bringing back the electric choreography for fights, and finishing up by tying a not-so-neat knot in our first murder mystery. God, is there ever a lot to talk about.

This episode starts strong, incredibly strong. But also incredibly subtle if you're not aware of what it is that they're doing.

They're starting a play, a performance

Aya and Tsugaru announce the beginning of their farce to out the culprit in the murder, and in doing so invoke some of the most notable sounds and approaches from Japanese culture: wooden clappers. I can't share the sequence with audio because I want to save that for later, but the clapper goes off each time a character is added to the screen. They're literally starting a play with the start of this episode and if that isn't the damn near coolest way to approach this sequence, I don't know what is.

Also, this episode isn't exactly subtle in the Raoul hinting. Neither were prior episodes truthfully, but this one proves to be the nail in the coffin. If you paid attention to the cover photo I gave this episode, you'd notice that Raoul is not in it. He's only ever shown separate of his brother and sister. Similarly, during the sequence in the gif above, Raoul is once more shown separate of his "patron" the butler. Both Claude and Charlotte are shown alongside/nearby their respective patrons (Godard, and the maid), while Raoul and the butler are diagonally across the screen from one another.

Anyways, after the opening Aya launches into her explanation of the events and the challenges that faced her ability to discern the murderer. I knew that the doll house would make a return, but I didn't expect it in this format. It also seems as though the placement of the dolls was not of any major significance.

Slightly off track here as well, but I love how inventive and creative the staff are with showing Aya through all this discussion. Having a severed head that can't express itself or move makes for a challenge in keeping viewers interested, but they consistently find ways to engage and intrigue with countless camera angles and layouts.

Another really interesting piece is that in this point of the discussions, Charlotte's singing makes an appearance in the soundtrack. Incredibly eerie, it's an impressively unique way to signal the end of this mystery (because the murder mystery began with Charlotte's singing). Just thinking about it, I wonder if there's potential in the naming of Lord Godard's children. Raoul is the odd one out as both Claude and Charlotte start with the letter 'C'.

Moving forward, the layouts/storyboarding through this episode are just something else. Aya talks about collusion and working together, so what happens? The maid's line of sight drifts towards a mask sitting on a shelf that is two faces fused together. I simply cannot get enough of the creativity and approach that this show puts on display every week.

Okay, hear me out on this one. It's a little crazy to put together, but if it is intentional, it's just another piece to give credit for with this series. So, in this first gif, Aya is talking through all the pieces of evidence/confusion that she's discovered so far. In total there's 5 points she brings up as the camera pans left to right, resets, then pans left to right again.

Now, here's Aya talking about the sixth point, the one that flips the script and asks the question of sound. The pan is reversed. Instead of left to right, it goes right to left. Could it actually be because of Aya flipping the mystery on its head with the notion of sound? Or could it be simple chance? I'm unsure, but if it is intentional, what an insanely good decision to make.

And if viewers weren't aware, another example of Raoul being comfortably outed by the episode. There's lots of examples of it today, with fidgeting or other means as well. Usually those actions are in isolation which can make them seem more character driven, but I really like this one as an example because it shows Claude facing Aya head on in comparison to Raoul's averted gaze.

Moving on once more, we see that weird red outline appear, but this time outlining the culprit. Did Aya see this father and his two sons as potential culprits immediately? It's definitely possible as we also see the green outline appear once more in this episode (though on Aya, who is obviously innocent).

People that want to storyboard? Take notes. Incredible ideas and perfect execution with things like this reflection in the candlestick seem near commonplace with Murder Farce. The sense of distance from the conversation, the feel of voyeurism. Layer it with the background vocals and you have an unsettling and very tense sequence.

On the topic of more technical things, if you've got a keen eye you've probably seen this piece once or twice so far in the episode. No, not this sequence specifically but that odd bit about it. Yes, the idea of a rewind, or repeat even (the first being the panning shots during Aya's discussion). An incredibly bold creative decision once more, but one that I immediately fell in love with for the duration of this episode.

I can probably save readers a half dozen paragraphs by saying this now: the strength of storyboarding and direction in this episode is nothing short of incredible. The story sucks you right in so you can easily ignore how consistent and pervasive the style is and how well suited to exposition it's made itself. Truly master work from opening to ending.

Alright, reset with this very satisfying layout of candles representing the points that Aya is discussing.

Now, it's time for the headliner to make their debut. Raoul gets outed as the murderer by Aya, and makes a leap for Tsugaru. Love the idea behind the snapshots of Raoul's movement, it feels like it really conveys that blind rage well. I'd show it, but well, even at slower fps' it's got quite the strobe effect so it's a little unsafe to share.

Also, the unsung hero of this episode: the OST. Incredible tension and buildup, wonderful sense of unease and discomfort, it brings all the right energies and vibes right when it should, and most certainly stands out with a strong sense of style.

Anyways, something I can share is the implicit comparison of Raoul's sense of superiority and Tsguaru's self-awareness. Raoul makes a speech about his hatred for humans, and how much better vampires are. But his clothes are tattered, he's dirty and is wearing a face unbefitting someone "better" than humans. Meanwhile, Tsugaru simply undresses to prepare for the fight, ensuring he doesn't make a mess of his clothes, and only further drawing attention to the disparity between Raoul's behavior and his words.

Oh, you thought this was just a mystery anime? Think again. Raoul launches into action once more and Lapin Track is able to show off their impressive work thanks to such electric fight choreography. It's really impressive how clearly you can feel the insane speeds of Raoul, but also the levity and near weightlessness of Tsugaru in the same sequence.

Also, I can't help but adore Tsugaru's showmanship with his fights. He stops while Raoul is down simply to introduce himself, and I love it so much.

And then there's this sequence. My god, I can't get enough of the action coordination for this series. Using the shadows to show the fight? How it hangs and holds on certain sequences to raise the tension? The color changes? How Tsugaru speaks? It's simply delightful. Truly, incredible work.

Also a small detail that's apparent through most of this fight: the weight of Raoul's body. He doesn't get sent flying (aside from one very cool scene), and instead bounces along the ground or crumples. It's disturbingly similar to how it might actually go down, and I feel like it adds a great deal to what is effectively an execution being handed out by Tsugaru in the form of a performance.

Anyways, in terms of actual information, we get a backstory for Tsugaru mixed in. He was originally part of a team that was formed to exterminate Yokai in Japan, alongside several others. I'm super interested to see how this aspect of his character players out in the long run, but for now it feels like an incredibly fitting and well-suited story for the Oni Killer.

And no, this next clip is not glitched, it's an intentional decision and falls further into that category of repetition and other visual idiosyncrasies on display today.

Call me Just Can't Get Enough by Depeche Mode though, because as the song indicates, I just can't get enough.

From here, I think I can safely end my praise for the episode. Raoul is (presumed) dead, and Tsugaru, Aya, and Shizuku leave the mansion for their next destination. It's a heavy finish that touches upon the failure for a peaceful resolution to the murder, but ultimately cannot remove its sense of humor from the situation, leading to a poorly made gag about the death of a wife and a son. Though truthfully, it doesn't translate all that well into English.

To explain a little, when he says "four times" what he's saying in Japanese is "Yon do aru", and when he says "five times" he's saying "Go do aru" in Japanese. The joke here being that the way he says "Go do aru" is mean to mimic how he says Godard's name.

Regardless, we find ourselves at the end of the episode, and much like how I started this post, I don't have a real way to finish it. It's just damn good, from start to finish, and if I had the time and could fit it all into one post, I'd have easily gone frame by frame over this episode. Insanely good, Undead Girl Murder Farce continues to be the Dark Horse during this summer season, and stands a shot at being my favorite new series to air in Summer.

[alexin-wonderlust]

Day 1 - Japan Blog - 7 February 2024

Day One: Adelaide to Tokyo Virgin Airlines via Melbourne and Cairns

Let's begin our departure to Japan. My sixth time visiting Nippon, and this time I hope to see and experience new things I havent been able to before.

My previous trips have been more to the cities to shop and to Disneyland but as I become more infatuated with this country, I am drawn to more meaningful experiences. It used to be about the video games, the collectables, the cute accessories and conveniences I couldnt get at home -- but now I am intrigued with the history, culture and nature of Japan. Hopefully I can manage to do everything I want to do and all the things, I wasnt expecting. (Because, theyre always the best!)

Leaving our house at 4am this morning was always a challenge; especially when I finished packing at 2am. So, we jumped in the uber which was driven by a super eccentric female driver who made me want to drop everying and start uber driving -- how is this even a thing I would want to do? She was so funny and chirpy and smart. It made the ride memorable and we made it to the airport with the rest of our holiday to look forward to.

Second up, checking in at Virgin Airlines in Adelaide Airport was also a huge highlight. The person helped us with our check in -- not that we needed it, but she upgraded our domestic flights to extra legroom which made my travel partner very happy.

I'm travelling with my partner of 4 years; Ben. He is 6"3 and loves an extra legroom seat! You'll probably learn a lot about him through my posts. He likes good food and music!

Well, after discovering that our VA fare is NOT a full service fare (I am NOT happy about this, shook, stricken, SLANDER!) as I would NEVER... but apparently; flying trans-tasman with VA doesn't mean you get a meal or a blanket or a pillow or a nice piece of metal. We are on a Boeing 737-800 Max for 9 hours with NO SNACKS. I think, because I booked this hastily, on their website (opposed to through a GDS with the option to see ancillaries) without the complete details -- I assumed it was a short haul international flight, and compared it with Qantas' service. I was wrong. The inflight entertainment is BYO device (which I didnt...) and the 737800 isnt fitted with Wifi onboard so I couldnt even download anything to watch. Their WiFi was working, so you could use their Free Entertainment, however I found it lagged and I couldn't even watch it through the buffering. So I just stuck to my knitting -- without music though because my Spotify decided I didnt need my downloaded music either.

It was a very long and semi-uncomfortable flight.

After the gruelling hours of trying to sleep, trying to finish my knitting and also doing some work... we landed in Haneda! HOORAY! Now time to do customs, and head to our hotel. Almost there.

For those playing at home; here is a quick breakdown of how to enter Japan.

-Grab an entry card and declaration card from your air host/ess. They will provide the physical card for you to fill in to give when you go through customs.

  or

-Alternatively; visit Japanweb.gov.jp (I dont have a photo of it, because you cant use cameras in customs, and I used the physical card option -- I love filling out these things!!) and you can do it all online and scan your QR at the gate.

The entry card tells the Japanese Government what your intentions on visiting Japan. IE: Tourism, visiting a relative, Business, etc -- and how long you intend to stay, where you're going to be staying -- all that jazz.

The declarations card is about what you are BRINGING in to JAPAN. So please dont bring things like fruit, meat, dangerous goods, illegal substances (this can be some medications like Codeine and Pseudoephedrine so please check with your doctor -- and get a note if you take medication regularly that might not be "legal" in Japan). If you dont bring any of this with you; you dont need to declare anything and you can walk straight through once you've shown your passport.

-Line up and have your passport at the ready. Keep your entry cards with your passport.

-They will scan your finger prints and take your photo first. (We had to do this twice...)

-Line up again to go through the gates.

-This is where they will stamp your passport and grant your access.

Once youve gone through this part; you're almost there!!

-Pick up your bags.

-Find the carosel with the flight you just arrived on. (IE: VA77 is on carosel 6) Your bags will come out here.

-Collect your bags and take them to the gates on the other side.

-Show your passport and declaration card and you *should* be good to enter.

Here we go! We are in JAPAN -- the first port of call is to get our mascot for the trip. This is something Ive done since my 2018 trip and it's fun and cute and it makes me happy to share my experience through a silly icon's eyes. Walk towards the "Keihan" Train Line which will get you to Tokyo. This is a trainline that goes direct from Haneda airport to Tokyo and connects to any of the main train networks in Tokyo. It really doesn't matter what neighbourhood you are staying in; 90% of the time this will be the train you need to get you to where you want to go. On the LEFT there is a 7/11 (get money from the ATM in the left corner, and then grab some snacks and a drink so you've got some coins..) because on the RIGHT there are a bunch of Gacha Machines where I like to find my mascot.

This time; NOTHING. No lil dudes. So, we will keep looking. 

Take the Escalators down to the train platform and board the train to TOKYO/SHINAGAWA and you're on your way.

Back to my blog; Ben and I had our heart set on this ramen place we found by accident last time we were in Akihabara. We call it "Midnight Ramen" because he wanted ramen at midnight and it came through with the GOODS... alas. We dropped our bags at our hotel in Shinagawa and did a quick change into something warm. (It was 36degrees when we left Adelaide and now we are facing 2degrees and SNOW!) Slammed on a beanie and caught the Yamanote to Akiba; to find that our ramen place was closed for renovations. The SADDEST TIME! Akiba isn't known for its ramen so we had to find something else... how devastating.

We found a Hakata style ramen place. It was a 6/10. It got a point for being open. Also, it was okay. The Nori (seaweed) had cute printed sayings on it which I thought was cute (gross, but cute). Then I found out that another branch of the other ramen place was open in Shinagawa, only a 6 minute walk from our hotel. Let's pretend like that didnt happen.

After we ate, we became acquainted with our new local Kombini (7/11, convenience store) attached to our hotel, and purchased some necessities.

[phoebelauardn516]

Week 4 Exhibitions Response

We visited the Auckland War Memorial Museum, which offered an excellent opportunity to explore new things. Some exhibitions really caught my attention due to their methods, effects, facial expressions and more. I notice that photos from past New Zealand are realistic, natural and captivating.

     The first work that stood out to me was a Portrait of a Woman with a sixth-plate ambrotype from the 1860s. The thoughtful presentation of the photograph added depth through the effect layer, giving the photo a refreshing quality. I was surprised by the advanced techniques they used in the past, which are somewhat similar to modern editing apps like Photoshop.

     The second one is an image of a baby, though I didn’t recall the details. The reason I focused on it was because the baby’s rolling eyes were fascinating, and I found that the eyes were painted, which might explain why they look so intriguing.

        The third image was a landscape, titled ‘Cold Water Baths White Terrance’, circa 1880s by Charles Spencer with Cyanotype. It is awesome to make this effect in 1880. It reminded me of riso printing, and the negative colours really drew me in. The details allowed me to learn more about New Zealand’s past. Another one is White Terrace Rotomahna circa 1880s by Josiah Martin in Magic Lantern slide, which was even more detailed and had a well-presented texture.

        The next one was the Portrait of Choie Sew Hoy and Eliza Ann Prescott circa 1886 by Robert Clifford with Hand-coloured albumen silver print, carte de visite. Similar to the baby photo, it involved post-processing with colour. Adding hand-coloured elements gave it a different feel. Without the colour, it would have been a nostalgic silver image, but the colours highlighted their faces like makeup.

        The last work is titled ‘On Right: Mere Te Kaehe Karetail’ from 1893 by William M Hodgkins, created in Gelatin silver print. The most special aspect was the use of a shutter. The right woman’s movement brought dynamism to the photo, showcasing the naturalness and emotion. It made me believe that the four people in the image were close friends.

        Overall, I realized that these photographs focused on capturing naturalness and relationships. The inadvertent movements created something special in the photos—details I might have tried to remove if I were the photographer. There were many other photos and works that I found captivating, but the ones I mentioned left me feeling shocked and surprised

These are some of the photos I took in the early morning before our teams met. I found that it is interesting on the structure, detail and lighting, I edited the ones that were taken by the camera but didn't refine the phone ones.

[argentisms]

i want to snarl & show you just how disturbed this has made me.

headcanons ft. matt daehler.

Allison meets Matt in a photography class — She’d enrolled last minute, intrigued by the subject despite the fact that it didn’t have anything to do with her major. He was a friend of Danny, the two having played lacrosse together. Danny had also introduced the two, given that he shared the same class. (The fact that Matt was friends with Jackson as well should have been a red flag in the moment. Danny doesn’t have a great radar.) It’s clear from their first few interactions, Matt is far more interested in Allison than their shared class. With everything going on between her family, friends, and the Kanima, Allison doesn’t give Matt much thought. She picks up on the fact that he’s interested in her, but she manages to keep him at arms length — Anytime he suggests working together, she makes sure Danny is there. That plan works well enough, despite a few study sessions ending up being the two of them alone in the library or at a coffee shop. She nervously laughs each time he calls them a ‘date’, careful to change the topic each time. When he eventually asks her out, she reluctantly agrees — Mostly in the hopes of keeping her family from catching on to the fact that she and Scott hadn’t actually broken up.

Scott may have said kissing Matt would be a good idea, but in practice, it’s far more uncomfortable than she anticipated. In truth, she’d been so focused on the chaos around them that she’d barely paid any attention to Matt for the majority of the night — He was just another glitter covered, tipsy rave goer. Allison hadn't put nearly as much stake into their 'date' as he had, missing the signs until Matt's hands are cupping her cheeks and he's leaning in. The discomfort practically radiates off of her, and even though he acts like he understands, that he picked up the cue to back off -- He tries again in the car, met with Allison pushing him away rather than uncomfortably freezing up, before he finally asks about the obvious: Scott.

The night she looked through his camera is something burned into Allison’s memory. He was a weird guy, sure — But up until that moment, she didn’t feel any fear when it came to him. Matt was simply the weird guy from class, harmless and temporary. In the grand scheme, the rave was meant to be a one off. She’d kindly reject him over a text or an awkward encounter after class, and the two would go their separate ways. The way her chest tightened and face grew hot as she clicked through the photos is a feeling she’d never experienced before. A layer of wool had been pulled from her eyes, exposing a truth she hadn’t expected to ever find. Her hands shake with each click, knots in her stomach tightening as each photo passes. One of her in the library, the coffee shop. Walking to her car after class, the apartment parking lot at night. Her bedroom. On the sixth floor.

She wants to feel relieved once Matt's dead, tries to relish in the fact that he is gone and can never show back up in her life. The only problem? Once he's dead, Allison learns his stalking was far worse than she initially knew. She barely remembers the conversation with Sheriff Stilinski, the way her father held her hand through it as the Sheriff detailed all the things they found in Matt's apartment. They ask her questions she can't remember, Allison hates the look of concern on the Sheriff's face. He knows her, he knows everything. Her privacy and life continue to be invaded and exposed over and over again. There's a ringing in her ears as they tell her about the photos, the 'candids', the one's photoshopped where her and Matt are together. She doesn't ask them to elaborate more on the photoshopped ones. All she can think of is the last time she was at the police station, laying paralyzed on the ground as Matt waves a gun around. If I can't have you, no one can...

There's a two month period before Allison leaves for France, when Gerard is gone and she's broken up with Scott, where she barely leaves the house. It's an unspoken agreement, but Lydia does just the same. Her curtains stay shut, terrified of what she might find waiting for her on the other side. So instead of facing the world, she and Lydia marathon the Bachelor, eat a concerning amount of take out, and check out of their lives for a while. Her facade of feeling strong and able to take care of herself has been ripped at every seam -- Allison's cruelly reminded of the truth: She's still the scared little girl calling for help. It's unclear what or how she pulls herself out of that funk, but eventually, she packs her bags and leaves for France with her father.

Being on a different continent doesn't stop her mind from drifting back to Matt, though. Every stranger that bumps into her, every man that holds eye contact with her for a little too long -- They all remind Allison of him, making her jumpier than she'd care to admit. The boiling point comes in the form of some poor man working at the farmers market. He bares a striking resemblance to Matt, one that has Allison's blood running cold when she sees him. So much so that she abandons her bag of produce in favor of getting as far away from the farmer's market as possible. Unfortunate, the poor stranger tries to help, going after Allison to bring her the forgotten bag -- As soon as his hand touches her shoulder, instinct takes over. She swings around, sucker punching the man before she can stop herself. She's not confident much damage is done, but the shock of it is enough to have her stumbling away in even more of a panic, apologizing profusely as the reality of her actions settle in.

Allison ends up telling her cousin, Beau, what happened, and why she'd essentially attacked a stranger. It takes a few beers and probing questions, but eventually she opens up -- About Scott, the Kanima, Gerard, Matt... It all comes out as tearful word vomit, but he gets the gist. Surprisingly, he shows her understanding. Admittedly, Allison had anticipated him telling her to toughen up, to remember her training and not let a dead man control her life. Instead, he offers to teach her, spar with her -- Help her learn how to defend herself with more than just a bow and arrow. They start the following morning, and Allison learns very quickly that Beau isn't going to pull punches just because she's half his size, and a woman. If you can’t be stronger, you have to be smarter, he says while helping her back to her feet, ready to start another round.

It takes three black eyes, two bruised ribs, and a chipped tooth before she finally knocks Beau down, breaking his nose with her knee on the way. Allison has a small scar on her left knee to prove it, and the two celebrate with fancy wine after she realigns his nose. More injuries follow before she’s able to do it again, but once she finds the best strategy — The playing field evens. While she might not have supernatural abilities or strength, she can still make a sizable dent. Enough to keep her alive, and do damage in the process. She learns how to play to her own strengths, finding ways to better exploit her opponents weaknesses than try to punch her way out of a problem. A new sense of security settles in her with every bloody nose and black eye, knowing she doesn’t have to call for help.

At some point, Matt no longer shows up in her nightmares. Allison stops dreaming about being paralyzed, helpless as he screams right into her ear. The fear he’d once plagued her with is now remolded into power — She’s not afraid when she looks over her shoulder, or when she’s alone with a stranger. Allison almost wishes they’d approach her, learn just how lethal she’d become. There’s no girl stuttering over her words, attempting to appease a man to avoid conflict. She wants them to know how sharp her teeth are.

Regardless, there’s still a piece of her that he's taken — She was robbed of any kind of peace of mind from the moment she learned of werewolves, but there’s still a part of her life Matt’s presence still lingers, compounded by the continued terror that disrupts their lives. It manifests in the safety she feels at home, or lack there of. Her curtains often remain closed, and always at night. Any time she catches herself looking out her bed room window for too long, she starts looking for him — For the glint of a camera lens, a flash, something. The locks on the doors and windows of her shared apartment are upgraded, without interest of what her and Lydia’s landlord may think. She installs two new dead bolts on their front door before she leaves for France, doubling up on locks for the windows, and electrifying the ones in her bedroom. Where she’d once found the idea of someone (Scott) climbing through her window romantic, now she just pictures a stranger invading what’s meant to be a safe place. When home alone, she has to check the door and window locks twice before she can sleep soundly. (Even then, she still sleeps with a knife under her pillow just in case.)

[randomoranges]

alas, no one got me my favourite pastry from the coffee shop across from school :(

teacher au

Little Things

 Get to class. Set up. Put four pencils, four erasers, four pens, and one pencil sharpener in six bowls. Check the drying rack and empty it out. Straighten up the desks. Open the laptop. Sign in. Plug in the USB key. Open the correct PowerPoint. Take out the other necessary materials. Get the first group of the day. Take attendance. Ask the kids at least ten times not to touch anything and listen. Explain the new part of the project.

 Copy

 Paste

 Repeat.

 Survive until lunch.

 Try not to think of the fact that his lunch break is twenty minutes shorter today.

 Set up for the afternoon.

 Remain sane.

 Étienne sighs as the clock ticks off another minute. There are still over thirty-five minutes to class and it is obviously too soon to have the kids start picking up. Regardless, he is already done with this class and this day and he desperately wants to go home, crawl under his nest of blankets, and disconnect from the outside world for the next long while.

 It has been a day – it has been a day, a week, a month – and really, when has it not?

 He is bone tired and disenchanted with much of everything. There is a deep ache in his body that sometimes feels as though it will threaten to swallow him whole. He feels as though he is being pulled in a multitude of various directions when all he wants to do is stop for a moment and simply exist with no pressing urgencies or matters to attend. A moment to breathe and catch his breath. A moment where he could simply be.

 Yet, that is never how things work out for him.

 It feels as though he is never home these days and the housework keeps on piling up. There is laundry to tend to, accounts to balance, recycling to take out and it never seems to want to end. It doesn’t help that he is constantly running to and from places at the end of his work day and that by the time he gets home, it is even later and he is even more tired.

 He will do it tomorrow, but then the following day is much of the same, and before he even realises it, another week has gone by and there are even more things to do.

 Étienne sighs again and looks back at the current group of students going about their business, working – or at least he hopes so – not that he cares anymore – on their project. They are a little louder than he would like them to be, but he can’t find it in him to attempt to quiet them down. It wouldn’t work anyways. They don’t listen. None of them do. (That is a lie – some groups are better than others. Right now, it doesn’t feel like it.)

 He is about to take another walk around the classroom to make sure the kids are on task, maybe even cut a few pieces of cardboard to size for an upcoming project for his third graders, even though he doesn’t really feel like it, when there is a knock on the door.

 He grumbles as he walked to the door, annoyed that someone is interrupting his class and annoyed that he has to keep it locked since his sixth graders sometimes like to test the door and poke their heads in while he is conducting class if he doesn’t lock the door.

 Étienne stops himself from yanking the door open with an irritated scowl, and instead, opens it as calmly as he can. He is surprised to find one of his fifth grade students, considering he doesn’t have class with them today.

 The student hands him a small box, saying it is from M Édouard.

 Intrigued, Étienne takes the box from the student’s hands, thanks them, and closes the door, before he makes it back to his desk.

 The students barely notice as Étienne opens the box to find a note tucked on one side, a decoy box of markers, and a bag from the coffee shop across the street from the school.

 Something sweet to help with the afternoon

x

 Étienne smiles softly and opens the bag to find his favourite pastry from the shop.

 He snaps a quick photo with his phone, before sending a message to Edward, making sure he is discreet.

 “How is it you always know how to cheer me up? I got your delivery. <3”

 He does not expect a response to come in so quick, even though he knows Edward has a free period at the moment. But he is also aware of the pile of tests and assignments Edward has to grade and look over.

 “I’m glad it got to you in one piece. It’s not much, but I figured you’d like it.”

 “I do! Thanks <3 Can’t wait for this day to be over and go home.”

 “Soon. I’ll let you get back to class. See you later :)”

 “Later xx”

 It isn’t much, but as Étienne takes a first bite out of the pastry, he thinks of Edward going to the coffee shop to get this for him. If anything, it parts some of the clouds from his day.

 FIN

[simplymalai]

Artist Research Blog Post #5- Alessandra Sanguinetti

Upon viewing the photographic work of Alessandra Sanguinetti, I was instantly intrigued by her photographs. Alessandra was born in New York in the '60s and eventually moved to Argentina for much of her life. Alessandra's interest in art began in her younger years. Through having an interest in art at such a young age, Alessandra found her inspiration early on through her mother's book collection. From there, she went on to study anthropology and general art studies.

One of her most well-known pieces is the world called " On the Sixth Day," where she photographed the relationship between both men and animals. Her depiction of this, though, was done through a lens that represented the death and life of animals who lived on farmlands. In addition, Alessandra began to gain interest in photographing her younger cousins' progression toward womanhood while living in Argentina. Through these images, she focused on the expression of youth in its entire essence.

Through her various images, Alessandra creates photographs with dark saturation, dark exposure, and a clear focus on her subjects. The hues used in her pictures create a mysterious essence that brings you into deep thought regarding the setup before the photo. In addition, I recognized how Alessandra uses the photographs of her younger cousins to depict the importance of relationships. Through this, we can recognize her passion for capturing both love and death simultaneously.

All in all, I felt both uncomfortable and interested in the photographs created by Alessandra Sanguinetti. Her imagery allowed me to feel a sense of interest in the perspective in which she exampled the bond of youth. Though at the same time, I still felt a chill when I visualize farm life in Argentina.

[ptergwen]

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

-

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

[fenmere]

The Book

We frequently wish we could send this fucking huge science fiction/epic fantasy book we made back to our sixth grade selves. It would have been so amazing for us to have found this back then.

Let’s daydream about this!

Let’s say we literally send a physical copy of the final draft as printed by Lulu back in time to appear on the shelf of fiction in our sixth grade home room just in time to be seen in the spring by our old selves.

It’d easily be the biggest book on the shelf, and amazingly enticing to us with the alien orthography on the spine. The synopsis is written to appeal to our old selves, too. There’s a table of contents, map, glossary, pronunciation guide and grammar for a conlang. There’s even instructions on how to write in that alien orthography!

Everything in the book is a love letter to our youth. But the thing that would, of course, really grab our attention is the copyright date.

Like, we’d maybe take it as some clever joke.

We’d be like, “This is absurd, but it’s so my sense of humor!”

We’d feel like the book was clearly made for us.

Then we’d read the acknowledgment and see our parents’ first names listed. The only names or details in the entire book that would be familiar. .

We’d take that as a spooky coincidence and consider it to be something that bring us closer to the authors, and might help us get over the weird plural system thing going on. In fact, at first, we wouldn’t know the authors share a body, not until we look at About the Authors. Which we’d do shortly after the acknowledgments at the very least. Nothing there would tip us off consciously that this was us from the future.

We have changed a LOT since back then.

We might be confused about the photos, trying to figure out if this person is male or female. We had enough internalized transmisogyny and interphobia to feel instantly uncomfortable at the sight of trans women. But photos were easier to bear than in person encounters or video, and by this point we’d be sympathetic enough to brush past it and keep reading.

Also, besides “transition”, there’s no vocabulary in the about the authors section that we’d recognize, particularly about plurality. It was 1987, we’d only encountered “MPD”, no “system”, no “headmate”, not even “plural”! And we’d been taught that MPD was fake, impossible.

So, we’d be a little confused, and probably assume that this author is playing a game to make it feel like their fictional world is more real than it is, and we loved that kind of game.

Also, the author talks about multiple partners, and we wouldn’t understand that.

In spring of 1987, sixth grade, we hadn’t heard the word “partner” used instead of wife, spouse, girlfriend, or boyfriend. And we hadn’t heard of polyamory, just polygamy, and that in only a few disparaging terms. We would have thought “business partners”.

We’d have started reading the book itself thinking maybe it’d give us some clues about the author(s), but mostly really intrigued about what their fiction is like!

The very first chapter is about a system realizing they are plural and then picking their own names and pronouns.

We would have been hooked.

The depiction of the internal thoughts and experiences of this different kind of consciousness would have won us over and enticed us to dig in deeply and read the book ravenously.

By the end of the first story, so much would be explained. We’d have and understand all the 2022 vocabulary for positive plurality and neurodiversity, and we’d be exposed to almost all the neopronouns. The neopronouns would have been the most challenging part of the story, but our brain was nimble back then, we’d have picked them up.

Now, the question, of course, is would this book have cracked our egg?

We doubt it.

Technically, we were already living as an enby, though nobody knew it. And in seventh grade science we were about to learn for the first time that “we should have been born a girl” and then decide to just treat our dysphoria to daydream about it.

Like, we’d read fiction and non-fiction that really enticed us already, and it didn’t do the trick. The times were just too hostile in our region, and one more book of fiction wouldn’t have changed that.

Except, this book would have been WEIRD.

If it didn’t change our trajectory immediately, it would have started to really change our life by the time we graduated from high school. But, also, certain parts of the story are identical to our system origins, and many of the characters are actually our oldest members.

We didn’t have our names back then, Phage wasn’t called Phage, and Eh wasn’t called Eh, etc. But we were literally these people almost as described, and a lot of the events had happened in our psyche. There are some differences, but not enough to matter.

We would not have recognized anything consciously.

But we might have had some weirdly strong sense of supernatural connection to the story. It might also have triggered deja vous, which could have caused us to stop reading.

It’s hard to say.

Perhaps the combination of future copyright date, parents’ first names, and spooky familiarity would have broken our plural shell at a time when the veil between our subconscious mind our conscious mind was thinnest and weakest and most strained. And if that had happened...

Well. Coming out as plural back then, as a young teenager who was also closeted about being trans, just would have been an utter disaster, and we knew it. But our 20s would have been totally different, and then we’d also KNOW that the book had actually come from the future. But we wouldn’t be able to prove it to anyone consequential, and we’d feel constantly godlike and special and totally powerless.

Which is how we felt all the time anyway.

We’d probably have started having vivid dreams as if we were characters from the book, very plural dreams, with feelings of revelation and power. Prophetic feeling dreams.

We experienced that kind of dream both when we came out as a dragon and when we figured out we were a girl. These dreams would have coincided with those dreams, and probably would have been more intense.

That would have influenced us a lot, too.

Oh, shit. The URLs!

The website addresses to our wiki and online copy of the book would have made no sense!

But then seven years later the World Wide Web would become public and we’d learn about http, and we’d look up these addresses and find them non-existent, and really wonder. The “.world” domains didn’t exist back then, and wouldn’t for decades, and would seem fake. But we’d ask “How had the authors even known about the internet in 1987?”

That would probably have clinched it for us.

Our most skeptical friends would have said, “The author is clearly someone who was working on the internet in 1987, writing under a pseudonym, and did the copyright dates as a joke, and all the similarities to you are a psychosomatic self fulfilling prophecy.”

But we’d BELIEVE.

This would become our holy book.

[brighteyes29]

Bechloe week 2021, Day 2

A/N: I don’t know why my friend Tumblr here puts such big spaces between paragraphs, I couldn’t fix it, so… Try to ignore it. This is Bechloe week day 2, pitches. I hope you like this one. Might publish it on ff.net or wattpad as a fic, but for now it is a one-shot.

Summary: Beca, Chloe and Amy are moving to L.A., so Beca could pursue her career and be away from Jesse. The three girls are roommates. Chicago doesn’t exist here ‘cause this is set after Pitch Perfect 2, not 3. So yeah. It is more interesting than it sounds, I just don’t know how to describe it without spoiling anything.

This happened right after graduation. Beca wanted to move to Los Angeles, so she can pursue with her career and be away from her ex, Jesse. The DJ just needed a change, but she didn’t want to be alone. She brought her best friends Chloe and Fat Amy with her. Like most of the other Bellas, Aubrey didn’t want to leave the city and quit her current job, which she loved, but she promised she’ll come to visit the three girls often, when she could.

“It’s such a shame that Aubrey couldn’t be here with us. I’m going to miss her.” - Chloe sighed, as the three girls were walking towards the street, where their rented apartment was supposed to be. Beca was right next to the ginger, they were holding hands despite the brunette’s complaints.

“I’m not.” - Beca replied, but both girls next to her knew she was kidding.

“Oh, come on, Bec.” - Chloe looked at her friend. “I know you will. You and Aubrey might not always be on the best terms, but-

“I know, I was kidding.” - the brunette cut her friend off. “I just had to say that. You know me.” - Beca smirked.

“We’re here!” - Fat Amy announced, when she looked up from the map she was looking at on her phone. “Are you ready for us, L.A.?” - she yelled, before entering the building. Her friends laughed and followed after her.

“Which floor should the apartment be on?” Beca said what all three girls were thinking.

“I keep in touch with the cute landlord, let me check.” - Amy opened her Messenger app and scrolled a bit, until she found the landlord’s profile. “Floor 6, lesss go!” - the blonde rushed up the stairs. Beca and Chloe had a hard time catching up with her. She must really be into that landlord of theirs.

When the girls reached the sixth floor, a handsome guy was waiting for them there. He wore a beautiful smile and he had a toothpick in his mouth. He had shoulder-length brown, curly hair and brown eyes. He saw the girls looking around a bit, so he said:

“Right here, ladies!” - he greeted them with a hand and helped them with their luggage. “You’re my new renters, yeah?” - he asked. The boy had an irresistible Australian accent.

“We surely are now…” - Amy looked at him from head to toe.

“Oh, another Australian. There aren’t too many of us here, so it’s nice to see a friendly face.” - the boy replied. “I recognized you from your profile picture. You’re Amy, yeah?”

“Yeah.” - Amy said. “Your profile picture didn’t tell me too much about you, but… I gotta say you’re hotter in person.”

“Ah, thanks.” - the boy scratched the back of his head. “The name’s Will. Will Warten.” - he added and moved to the side, so the girls could come in. “I hope you like this place. It was my home for 7 years, before I bought it from the owner.”

“Wait, you were a renter too?” - Chloe asked, intrigued, and crossed her arms.

“Sure. But I loved it in here so much that eventually I bought it.” - Will put the luggage in the living room, which was right in front of the front door. The girls sat on the couch.

“How did you decide to put it for rent again?” - Chloe asked. Beca smirked at the fact how curious her friend was and looked at her.

“Well, I thought it would be selfish if I keep this wonderful place to myself. I wanted to share it, so other people can experience what I have. I met the love of my life here.” - after Will said that, a girl joined them in the living room, she was a thin blonde with hazel eyes. She rested her hands on Will’s shoulders, who had his back on her. He was sitting on the armchair.

“What a nice surprise!” - Amy exclaimed, although both Beca and Chloe knew she was sarcastic. “How long have you two been together?”

“Um, 5 years, I think.” - Will said. “She was my roommate. We didn’t know each other at first, but we were both new in town. We fell in love soon after we got to know each other.”

“You fell in love.” - the unknown girl corrected Will. He laughed.

“Well, yeah, but… You followed soon after.” -he replied. “Everyone, this is my lovely fiancé Katelyn.” - Amy practically shot the other blonde girl with her eyes. “We live next door, so if you need anything-

“Honey, you forgot to show them around!” - Katelyn intervened again. From what the girls heard, she sounded American.

“Right.” - the brown-haired boy stood up. “This way, please.” - he pointed at the room, which was on the living room’s right. The renters followed him and looked inside the room. “This is one of the rooms, the other is next to it and looks kinda the same, but the bed is smaller. And the kitchen is at the end of the hall.”

“There is only one bed.” - Beca noticed.

“Yeah, but… It is big enough and… you guys are friends, two of you can share it, yeah?”

Beca wasn’t sure. She had to share a bed once, with Chloe, in fact, but after what happened in the tent at Aubrey’s camp, she didn’t want to repeat the situation. The brunette was silent for a moment, which Will interpreted as a problem.

“Is there some kind of a problem?” - he raised a brow.

“No.” - Beca lied. “We’ll be just fine.”

The DJ didn’t see how Chloe’s smile turned into a frown. She knew what was going on in Beca’s mind. She knew the brunette was uncomfortable around her after what she told her in the tent. But she still couldn’t explain to herself why was Beca okay with holding hands with her. She didn’t know why Beca was okay with Chloe occasionally kissing her. The redhead didn’t know many things. But she was bound to find out.

“One of you can sleep on the sofa, it’s no issue.” - Will suggested.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” - Beca forced a smile, but she wasn’t very good at it.

“One thing, though.” - the brown-haired boy added. “No sex on the sofa.”

“Sure.” - Chloe sighed and looked at Beca, the redhead’s mind was somewhere else entirely. “No problem.”

“Alright, then. Kat and I are leaving. If you need anything… well, you know.” - with that, the landlords left.

“What are we going to do?” - Beca asked with crossed arms. Chloe knew exactly what she meant.

“What do you mean?” - the redhead tried to smile. “We’ve done this before, two of us are going to share a bed. No big deal.” - Beca looked at her friend and didn’t really know what to say.

“I call dibs on the other bed!” - Fat Amy rushed to the other room and sat on the bed. “This room has better view.” - she explained. The two other girls laughed.

“So, I guess we’ll sleep on the other bed.” - Chloe moved closer to Beca, wearing a big smile on her face.

“No.” - Beca replied with a serious face. That made Chloe’s smile disappear. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“But wait, you guys are dating, why don’t you sleep together? I meant… Well, you know what I meant.” - Fat Amy said.

“For the last time, we’re not dating!” - Chloe said. It was the first time that Chloe was the one who said that. That surprised Beca.

“What? Yes, you are! You’re, like, always holding hands and kissing, you can’t tell me you’re just really good friends, that’s horseshit!” - the other two girls didn’t really know what to say to that, so they didn’t.

….

Quickly, the night came and all girls were in their rooms, except for Beca, who was in the living room, on the couch. She never foresaw how lonely she was going to be on the couch. The whole evening she spent thinking about Chloe and how she probably hurt her, even though the redhead never said anything about Beca’s choice.

The three girls had spend the whole day at the beach, but Beca left Amy and Chloe do all the talking. The DJ didn’t engage in conversations with them much. She spoke only when they asked her something. Even at dinner, Beca was silent and kept to herself. Her eyes were on the plate and she did her best to keep them that way. The DJ knew Chloe suspected something, but she never asked her what’s up, most likely because the ginger didn’t feel like talking to her friend. She was hurt and Beca got that. The brunette never really apologized for what she did. She wanted to, but she was never good at words. She didn’t really even know why she refused fo share a bed with Chloe. Hell, the brunette even liked her, to say the least. The reason she was uncomfortable with sharing a beg with Chloe was the fact that she was afraid Chloe might find out about Beca’s little crush. Last time, when the ginger basically offered Beca to experiment with her, Beca had an answer ready. But, on a bad day she might not have it and that’ll make the redhead suspicious. So Beca couldn’t have that.

‘Too many emotions today, time to relax.’ - Beca thought. To her, that meant, well, masturbating.

So she pulled out her phone and browsed photos of Chloe. When she chose one she made the blanket cover everything beside her head and started the action. It felt amazing, knowing you’re getting off to your crush. It almost felt like you’re having sex with them. Will said no sex on the couch. He didn’t say anything about masturbating.

But Beca had too much on her mind to hear Chloe’s door open. The redhead immediately realized what her friend was doing, but she didn’t know what the other girl was watching and what made her breathe with such weird frequency. It sounded kinda hot. So when Chloe grabbed the brunette’s phone, Beca was caught by surprise.

“Hey!” - the DJ immediately tried to get her phone back, but Chloe lifted it up, beyond Beca’s reach. “You know this is not fair. Just give it back!”

“Oh, I’ll give it back.” - Chloe smirked. “Right after I find out what you were watching.” - Chloe’s gaze shifted to the phone.

“No, Chloe, don’t!” - Beca begged, but the redhead wasn’t listening.

“Oh, my…” - the redhead put a hand over her mouth, but then she laughed.

“What’s so funny?” - Beca was furious right now. Not only did Chloe violate her privacy, but now she was going to tease her about it.

“All these years. You felt the same.” - Chloe gave Beca her phone back. “We’re two idiots in love who could have been together, but were too afraid to do something about it. It’s funny.”

“No, it’s not, actually-

“If you shared the bed with me, you wouldn’t masturbate to my picture and I never would’ve caught you redhanded. Guess there’s one good thing about you sleeping on the couch.” - Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca’s neck.

“I… I don’t know what to say, it is all so… weird, and I-

“Shhh….” - Chloe put her index finger on Beca’s mouth. “No need for words. And… guess now you’ll want to share the bed with me.”

“Guess so.” - Beca smirked and let Chloe’s tongue inside her mouth. It all felt so good. And, as Beca said, so… weird.

[avatar-news]

Very INTRIGUING update...

As you may know, Dark Horse has released some awesome Avatar artbooks over the years, giving us a behind-the-scenes look at the production of the shows and all the art that goes into it.

There was one artbook for ATLA, and four more artbooks for TLOK (one for each season of the show), for a total of five.

These came out back around the time when the shows were airing, and they went out of print a while ago, so now Dark Horse has started releasing updated second editions, as well as deluxe versions, of the books. So far they’ve revealed the ones for ATLA and TLOK Book One, with the rest of the Korra artbooks forthcoming.

The deluxe versions each come in a slipcase, and it turns out that the spines of the slipcases go together to make one big image.

Here’s the intriguing part:

There are only five existing Avatar artbooks, but there are six books in this collection. What will be the new book?

This is pretty exciting because we haven’t gotten a new artbook in a long time, and these are some of the best releases among all Avatar products.

My first thought is that the new book could be an artbook for the comics. It would make sense because Dark Horse publishes the comics and they publish the artbooks. But even though there have now been eight graphic novel trilogies and a handful of other various graphic novels and comic collections, I’m not sure there’s enough to fill a whole book. I feel like it could be something else, but what what that ends up being is still a total mystery to me.

It would have to be something that’s only one volume, otherwise there would be more than six since they’re already planning ahead. That narrows the possibilities, but I still can’t quite figure out what it could be, besides my first guess which I still don’t feel too strongly about. It could be a second ATLA artbook or something, but I feel like if they were going to do that, they would have just split it into three new artbooks, one for each season, like with the Korra artbooks.

It’s possible it’s not even an artbook, it just says “additional deluxe edition sets”, so it could be a deluxe version of some other upcoming release we don’t know about yet.

Either way, keep your eyes out for some kind of new Avatar book from Dark Horse!

Shout out to mando_kenobi on Instagram for reaching out to me with these photos!

Update! Dark Horse confirmed on their live stream today that it’s not a misprint or something like that, there is an unannounced new sixth book that will be revealed in the future!

They were asked what the sixth book is:

[kotsuvi]

WHAT THE HQ BOYS ARE LIKE DURING THANKSGIVING/FRIENDSGIVING

a/n: okay this is kinda a take on canadian/american thanksgiving—yanno with all the pumpkin pie and the turkeys and the fall colours? i just thought it would be kind of cute.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking for some

KARASUNO

daichi: told-no, COMMANDED asahi and suga to wear fall colours. like seriously wore the brown khakis with the orange sweater and little socks with turkeys on them. it’s at his house, so he insisted that suga and asahi arrive early and sit at the table together, just to make the other guests feel bad about not being dressed up. yells at the guests to stop touching his family’s ornaments and paintings. gets kita to help babysit.

suga: was actually going to dress up anyway, so he took it as the perfect chance to wear his turkey knit sweater. it has tiny little turkeys all over it like it’s so fuckin cute. lowwwwkeyyyy makes daichi blush when he sees him but like we’re not gonna talk about it. brings a delicious fruit salad that’s eaten almost singlehandedly by lev and hinata.

asahi: panics because he doesn’t have a lot of nice things to wear. like FREAKS OUT in front of his closet, close to tears. legit settles on a tan shirt, brown pants and black boots with a slight heel. definitely gets teased by tendou about keeping the beard. “keeping it intact,” he replies. brings cabbage rolls. also brings brownies, and has to fight the urge to eat them all on the way over.

nishinoya: arrives slightly late, but worth the wait. busts through the door screaming about how hungry he is. doesn’t take of his shoes in the house so he trails mud EVERYWHERE. also sneaks in a couple bottles of cider. he’s been thinking about this feast for days, and he just can’t wait. talks with his mouth full of food. probably spits mashed potatos on akaashi at some point. gets drunk off of his secret cider and asks iwa if he likes being second best to oikawa.

tanaka: arrives shortly after noya, despite saeko speeding to get there. you can literally hear him talking from ten houses away. argues with bokuto over stupid things; ends up nearly starting a food fight. eats with his fingers, literally no utensils, and doesn’t use a napkin. secretly grossing everyone out. thinks that he can win a turkey eating contest, but daichi shuts him down before he can get started. is DEDICATED to the kareoke. even sings a song for kiyoko.

hinata: so incredibly excited to eat. this kid could not SLEEP he was so excited. gets cursed with sitting next to ushiwaka and tendou, who bully him about his hair being thanksgiving colours year-round. budges everyone in line for the food. of course daichi then makes him go last. yells at kageyama for getting the best part of the turkey: the skin. atsumu tells him that ginger beer is a new type of “delicious juice” and he drinks it all, nearly throwing up afterwards. lowkey got flustered when tanaka was singing britney spears.

kageyama: tells everyone that he doesn’t want to go, but is actually extremely excited as well. for some reason he snoops through daichi’s house while everyone is eating? he just wants to take a look around, and then suddenly he’s in daichi’s parents’ bathroom, inspecting shampoo labels. literally doesn’t eat sitting still either. he just stands behind his chair? oikawa starts a rumour that he can’t sit because he has hemorrhoids, and kags responds by throwing his drink in oiks’ face. that really starts a riot. really he just wants to be standing so he can run to the kitchen and get more food in an emergency.

tsukishima: brings his headphones just in case he’s stuck next to bokuto or someone really loud and obnoxious. of course he is. bokuto AND tanaka. everyone tries to coax him into kareoke after the meal, and he declines, but really wants to prove to kuroo that he is the most angelic singer there. “accidentally” tips his drink into bokuto’s lap, but the guy is so busy yelling at tanaka that he doesn’t even notice, so tsukki tips another. goes on his phone at the table. tells tadashi to get all his meals for him because he doesn’t want to stand in line.

tadashi: goes through one (1) mental breakdown when he’s seated beside aone instead of tsukki. pours WAAAAAAY too much gravy on his meal because he’s just so nervous. like literally SWAMPS his turkey and vegetables. his mom forced him to bring a green bean casserole. he doesn’t even like casserole. sits across from oikawa and this mans won’t stop asking for photos of him and iwa, so tadashi is tasked with that for the night. offers to help daichi with the dishes afterwards. gets awarded with an extra slice of pumpkin pie.

saeko: handed her cider to noya beforehand because she just knew that daichi would check her at the door. she gets drunk halfway through anyway. challenges iwa to an arm wrestling competition. winner gets the losers pumpkin pie with EXTRA whipped cream. the sexual tension skyrockets. she wins but accidentally shoves iwa’s fist into akaashi’s cranberry sauce. gets scolded by daichi MULTIPLE times. too drunk to care.

kiyoko: also came over early. made butternut squash that is to die for. helps set up even though she knows that it’s just going to become a mess. keeps track of the points for kareoke. may or may not have given tanaka extra points for singing “i’m a slave 4 u” by britney spears.

yachi: of COURSE this girl has to sit between aone and ushiwaka. of course it works like that. and chicky is terrified. spills her drink on the nice tablecloth and pleads for kiyoko and daichi to spare her life. thinks that the kareoke is too loud. nearly craps her pants when bokuto jumps up on the table. brings glazed donuts for dessert.

coach ukai: daichi invited him just to be polite but then he??? ended up??? coming??? literally shocked everyone into the sixth dimension. says he isnt going to stay for long, but mans is there the WHOLE night. busts out with some MR. WORLDWIDE;)))!!

AOBAJOHSAI

oikawa: his one mission was to be best dressed, and judging by the appalled look on daichi’s face when he first entered, he succeeded. this mans wont shut up either, and even tho everyone yells at him, they’re actually invested in his stories. he tells a whole bunch from middle school and his earliest volleyball memories, and everyone??? likes it??? they’re intrigued the whole time. goshiki and lev listen extra hard. mans wants pictures as well. he needs to show his fans that he does actually have friends. of course he gets the photos before kags dumps the drink on his head, and then he goes feral. teases iwa about the second best comment, but apologizes to him after, assuring that iwa is an amazing ace.

iwa: only went there for oiks. the mans had plans with his family, but he knew that it meant a lot to oikawa, so he showed up. literally goes into a FIT of rage when he loses the armwrestling match, then further infuriated with noya’s comment. chases the kid around the table. nearly knocks out his teeth by tripping into a cabinet. leaves early after throwing a temper tantrum, then receives a formal apology from both oikawa and daichi later on.

matsukawa: i just know this mans smokes at family functions, so what’s stopping him from getting high at friendsgiving? of course he only smokes a lil, just enough to get a good buzz, because he wants to still be respectful. offers to refill drinks when he gets his own. helps pack up the leftovers. tries desperately to catch iwa as he chases noya around, but doesn’t succeed. he can’t really feel his fingers or his face, so he doesn’t smile or laugh like... the whole night.

hanamaki: maybe sneaks out to join mattsun. maybe. no, definitely. and he’s not used to it, so you BET this man is trippin. he tries his best to hide it, but of course suga can tell. he confuses cranberry sauce with champagne, so he literally drinks the damn sauce from a wine glass the whole night. oikawa certainly has pictures for the next morning to prove it too. 

kyoutani: doesnt get invited to a ton of things, but he decided to go to this. brings a pumpkin, which is nice, but daichi is like wtf am i meant to do with this??? but it’s a nice gesture. tries to engage in the conversation between the twins, but only gets frustrated when he can’t hear. threatens to flip the table once. cant find the bathroom and ends up taking a piss in the yard.

NEKOMA

kuroo: the one with the kareoke machine. absolutely did not tell daichi he was bringing it, but then pulls it inside. “get a load of this bad boy!!!” “kuroo what the hell is this???” i just know that everyone wants to sit beside this man at the table. he’s cracking jokes and people are straining to hear. it’s a match between him and oiks: who’s telling the better story? also won’t leave. like it’s 2am and he’s still there, swaying alongside bokuto and coach, singing early 2000’s nelly furtado.

kenma: KUROO AND HINATA CONVINCED HIM TO DYE THE TIPS OF HIS HAIR ORANGE. he HATES it. buttttt he’s keeping it even though people tell him he’s a hinata wannabe. “but why would i want to be like shoyo?” “hey kenma that’s not very nice!!” definitely plays games at the table. doesn’t even try to hide it. gets gravy on his switch and uses lev’s shirt as a napkin.

lev: this man has enough food on his plate to feed a small village. like deadass, he doesn’t slow his eating for a BREATH. he didn’t eat the whole day just so he could be extra hungry. like 3/4 of the spread is on his plate. also like cant fit his legs under the table, so he has to eat with his chair super far away. of course this man is going to be dropping food on the floor. literally has a hole in his chin because the gravy keeps dripping out whenever he speaks.

yaku: brings champagne because it’s “an exciting night”. lowkey freaks people out with how quickly he can down a bottle. has a small amount of chicken and turkey, LARGE amount of potatos, but then as many slices of pie as he can. like legit the pieces stack up on his plate. he scolds lev for making a mess, but literally litters crumbs all over the table.

FUKURODANI

bokuto: thinks that lev and him are participating in an eating contest, even tho lev has no idea what’s going on. of course this man brought his own liquor. he knows it’s time to party. legit as soon as he’s finished eating he’s busting open the bottle. towards the end of the night he’s actually dancing on the table, narrowly missing the forks and knives. daichi, suga and kita try their very best to control him, but he’s in his element. legit was throwing it back to kuroo singing “uptown girl”.

akaashi: also brought champagne but drinks it in a fancy glass. legit with the pinky up like royalty. comes in the cutest little fall knit sweater. does NOT participate in kareoke but hums along to the songs he knows. quietly makes bets with kenma on who is going to win, and he gets a couple of victories off of goshiki. also offers to do the dishes, but unlike tadashi, he doesn’t get another slice of pie because yaku ate it all. also brings daichi a card signed by him and bokuto. he’s very thankful. (sweet bb)

SHIRITORIZAWA

ushiwaka: there is no way this man isn’t excited. tbh he didn’t even think he’d get invited, and he actually ALMOST smiled when daichi offered. mans shows up in a turtleneck. TURTLENECK. legit wearing a rolex. why does he have drip? he’s got drip. for a big dude he doesn’t eat very much. threatens atsumu with his life if he ever DARES to shake salt in his champagne again. cracks a plate from gripping it too hard while waiting in line for the dessert. he’s excited, okay?

tendou: wears something weird. like a headbands with a candelabra on it or a giant turkey broach. brings a whole jug of orange juice for himself, and you bet that he finishes it within the first fifteen minutes. honestly, he probably dips his cabbage roll into the drink. also starts a conga line around the table while goshiki is singing. semi dares him to taste some of daichi’s dish soap, and of course he does it.

goshiki: NEVER HAS ANYONE EVER SEEN THIS MAN SO EXCITED. practically bouncing off the walls. eats way too fast. slips in the kitchen trying to get to the sink because he started choking on a green bean. becomes mesmerized by saeko and insists that he’s going to become the world’s best kareoke singer. picks every song about love. okay sam smith. tries to get suna to participate but receives a look that could kill. gets scared after that, but it motivates him to sing even better.

semi: practically skips the meal and goes straight for dessert. gets a harsh scolding from daichi but he doesn’t care. “accidentally” brings up the fact that ushiwaka cuts his food weirdly because he’s left handed. the whole table goes silent. semi passes away.

INARIZAKI

atsumu: literally just went to cause trouble. was he even invited? nobody knows. osamu was, but him? well. gets drunk within the first hour. tricks hinata into trying a bunch of kita’s disgusting ginger beers. constantly kicks samu under the table. throws a shoe across the room when daichi doesn’t let him have another drink. he’s loud. VERY loud. swears far too much and violently compliments daichi on the food. “this food is so fuckin good like hella delicious, i fuckin love thanksgiving! this is the shit!!”, “atsumu your brother made all the food”, “what”

osamu: just there for the food. literally made 3/4 of the dishes, including the turkey. makes fun of daichi for being the host and literally not making any of the food. “that’s embarrassing”, but really he offered to do it waaaaay before. constantly tells atsumu he has food in his teeth. over-salts suna’s turkey just because he feels like it. he’s the dude that encourages makki to drink the cranberry sauce. offers to help vacuum the floor clean of noya’s mess, but daichi is SO done with atsumu that samu just leaves early, dragging his brother with him.

suna: catches tendou drinking the dish soap. he’s not surprised. doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks away. legit doesn’t say anything to anyone tho. like mans shows up, eats and dips. has a one two conversation with ukai about court shoes, and then he’s gone. texts daichi later and thanks him, which is extremely shocking but daichi thinks it’s really nice.

kita: hates gatherings. i know this man just despises the loud and rowdy behaviour. puts mad dog in a headlock when the dude tries to fight kageyama over the turkey skin. eats and leaves zero mess. dabs at the corners of his mouth with napkin. washes his hands before and after everything. i just KNOW he’s polite too, but really gives it to semi when he mentions ushiwaka’s left handed eating. other:

OTHERS

aone: dresses cute. gets complimented by hinata and cant stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. like lev, he eats enough to feed a small town but makes sure everyone else goes before him at dessert time. tells yachi that he loves the donuts.

terushima: definitely wasn’t invited but heard through the grapevine. shows up with one plate of cookies and a violent growling stomach. immediately takes to the kareoke, even before dinner is over. randomly bursts into song halfway through his second plate of green bean casserole. thinks that singing louder = singing better.

sakusa: clearly doesn’t want to be there. brings his own food and his own drink, but doesn’t hesitate to down a bottle of noya’s cider. complains about how close hinata is sitting is sitting to him, and then pulls out a ruler for emphasis. “whoa! where did that come from??” “get away from me.”

[illfoandillfie]

I don’t know if you’re still doing asks for the advent calendar. But just wondering if you could do a Ben x Reader x Present!Roger, where Ben and reader are the subs for Rog and he is hard!dom and they’re getting punished but at the end it’s super fluffy with my fav poly relationship. Idk if this makes since and I hope you could be comfortable with writing this! Btw love your writing! ❤️❤️

Oh i absolutely love this prompt and honestly i can’t think of a better way to end this thing than with a rog x ben threesome!!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging/orgasm denial, sir kink, dom! rog, sub! ben, sub! reader, collars, a tiny bit of hair pulling, overstimulation, minor mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving), there’s also a bit where rog steps on reader, also its like 4k lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 25

It had been natural to let Roger take the lead, so to speak, in your relationship. Even in the early days, there’d never really been a question about you submitting to Roger. For one thing, you trended towards submissive anyway but something about Roger, the way he carried himself, automatically made you want to kneel before him. Age probably had something to do with it too. There was a perceived expertise because he was older (and as he frequently joked, wiser too), that had you agreeing to call him Sir and to follow his instructions, even within the first few weeks of getting together. Normally you’d wait a while before jumping into anything especially kinky with someone new, and to be fair he hadn’t rushed into bringing out the harder stuff, but it was almost shameful how fast you’d let him toy with you, agreeing to wear a collar to symbolise your submission. You’d well and truly established your dom/sub relationship before you’d agreed to consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend, (His age may have been a hinderance there, the word boyfriend not often associated with someone like him) so when Ben first met you, he assumed something entirely different. Roger had invited him around for dinner, with the added intention of being able to talk drums for as long as they wanted. Ben had shook your hand and made a comment that implied he thought you were Roger’s niece or grand daughter or something along those lines and before you’d been able to correct him he was caught up in a discussion with Roger about one of the songs he had to play in the movie. You left them too it, shrugging Ben’s assumption off. If you were going to date a man in his seventies then you had to be prepared for people to think you were connected by blood or else that you were in it for the money. Neither was true but it’s what people would think and there was no reason to get upset about it. Ben’s impression was re-evaluated later that day when he’d wandered away from the drum kit to find Roger and walked in on him giving you a quick edge. As soon as he realised Ben was there Roger apologised.

“Oh, that’s um, no, uh, no need for that,” Ben stuttered out, “I just thought, but, uh, I was obviously wrong,”

“Family or sugar baby?” Roger asked curiously.

“Family. Then sugar baby when I saw your hand up her skirt.” Ben seemed to realise what he’d said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend actually,” Roger turned his head to smile at you, “I would have said so but we’ve really only just started telling people so it kind of slipped my mind that I could,”

“No worries, um, I’ll leave you to it and just go try out that bit on the drums again.” Ben turned and walked back down the hallway as quickly as he could, Roger chuckling softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“How would you feel if I invited Ben to have sex with us?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m not saying I definitely will but…he’s been looking at you a lot this afternoon. I figured he was probably trying to work out who you were to me but if he assumed family he might have been checking you out.”

“You think?” you asked, trying to keep your tone level. Ben was fit and you wouldn’t have minded him making a pass at you, even if you’d had to turn him down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, see if I can work it out, but would you be okay with that? If he joined us?”

“That sounds kind of fun,”

“Alright then, I’ll feel him out and see if I can’t convince him to stay the night.”

 Over the course of the afternoon and evening Roger used every trick in his book to determine Ben’s attraction to you, and if he’d be interested in a threeway, steadily getting less and less subtle. By the time dinner had been eaten just about all delicacy was out the window.

“Look, sorry again about earlier,” Roger said, passing Ben a scotch and soda, “I’ve been edging Y/N a bit today because I’m planning on fucking her rotten tonight and I want her dripping wet and ready to beg for it,”

You weren’t sure whether you or Ben was more embarrassed by that but Roger didn’t seem to notice.

“Not that I really need too because she’s got, well let’s call it a very healthy sex drive. Edging her keeps her in her place and makes sure she knows I’m the one who controls if and when she gets an orgasm, but honestly she’s ready to go whenever I ask. I could tell her to strip right now and she would.”

“Is that right?” Ben said despite himself. His eyes darted about the room, not knowing where to look, but his tone was curious.

“She’s very obedient. If you wanted I could tell her to suck you off and it would take literally two seconds for her to be on her knees.”

Ben audibly gulped, his face beyond pink.

“Should I tell her to do that Ben?”

“Umm,”

“I think she’d like it if you joined us tonight. She does think you’re fit.”

“J-joi-join you?”

“We can set up one of the spare rooms for you if you want to stay. I might even see about lending her to you for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, hypothetically, if you did stay, we’d share her for a bit, make up for all those edges I gave her. Then afterwards you could take her off to another bed and have her as many times as you wanted while I got a good nights sleep. Twice this week she’s wanted me in the middle of the night, it’d be nice to let someone else deal with her instead. Of course, there would be a few ground rules but they’re easy enough.”

“Like what?”

“Oh well, you can take her raw if you like but we’d prefer you not to finish in her cunt. Anywhere else is fine though. Obviously safewords are a must and limits have to be respected, hers, yours and mine. And you do need to understand that I’m in charge. She submits to me, she calls me Sir and she wears a collar for me. We both enjoy it, we both get off on it, and we expect anyone who joins us to understand that.”

“I understand,” Ben nodded.

“Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Yes.”

Roger had grinned and turned to you, “Well, why don’t you give our guest a proper welcome.”

 Ben fit in better than you might have assumed he would. It had been natural for you to submit and apparently Ben felt the same. That first night he constantly looked to Roger for guidance and permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or do something that would bring the night to an end. As you’d sucked Ben’s cock Roger had commanded you both, telling you when to deepthroat him and when to come up for air, telling him to grab your hair or push you down further. After that he’d suggested Ben repay you and walked him through edging you with just his fingers, teaching him the signs of your impending orgasm so he could stop it at the last second. And when you did finally make it to the bedroom, he’d told you both how to position yourselves, giving instructions and making demands as you’d been filled by both of them. Ben joined you in calling Roger Sir, giving up control as fully as you did. When Roger suggested edging Ben himself, Ben didn’t object. He dropped his eyes and bit his lip and whined prettily as Roger stroked his cock carefully, always stopping short. Afterwards he’d been rewarded, as Roger had promised he would be, with you as company in his bed. Mostly you’d stayed up talking, Ben curiously asking questions about your relationship with Roger and how it had come about. He was most intrigued by the dominant and submissive dynamics, how it worked and how you’d felt adding an extra person to it. Of course, you’d made sure it wasn’t all talk. Ben was hot and Roger expected him to fuck you so there was no harm in it. Besides, you knew Roger would call you a good girl if you were obedient and took Ben however he wanted. Ben seemed to like that aspect of your reasoning too. He didn’t want to disappoint Roger by not using you and the chance of being called a good boy for it was motivation enough.

 You’d expected it to be a one night thing but a couple of weeks later Roger had extended Ben another invitation to dinner. Things went in much the same direction, only Ben had fallen asleep in the bed you shared with Roger rather than taking a spare for himself and the next morning had offered a repeat performance of the night before. It was the same the next time Ben came for dinner and the time after that. On the sixth time you all gave up the pretext of dinner. Ben arrived earlier in the afternoon and Roger greeted him with the order to strip, which he did without question. The next morning Roger, pleased with Ben, made a suggestion that it become more official, and offered him a collar identical to yours.

“You can say no, of course,”

Ben hadn’t even hesitated before he picked up the collar and fitted it around his throat. You’d helped him with the clasp at a look from Roger who’d then ordered you both to suck him off. From then on it became a much more regular thing. For the most part both you and Ben would submit to Roger, gradually showing Ben harder things like spankings and restraints and all the fun stuff. Sometimes Roger would just sit back and watch Ben have his way with you and sometimes he’d disappear with Ben while you were busy or not in the mood. When Roger was called overseas unexpectedly Ben stayed with you. Roger asked for photos and videos and you delighted in sending him pictures of hickeys and scratches you gave each other as well as videos of each of you edging or Ben’s cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your moans in the background. Of course, the shifts in your sexual relationships also impacted your non-sexual relationships. Ben was important to you and Roger. He wasn’t just someone you hooked up with, he was part of things. When you redecorated the kitchen, Ben helped pick out the colours and when Roger wanted someone to listen to the first demo of a new song he’d written, Ben was there to give feedback. He was an extra shoulder to lean on, an extra pair of hands when there was chores to be done, and extra person to spend time with. But even with all the changes, your sexual dynamic remained the same. Roger was in charge. And that was how he liked it. Especially when he got to punish one or both of you.

Not that his punishments were ever really punishments. Once he’d come home from a weekend trip, expecting a clean house only to find the kitchen covered in rubbish and dirty dishes while you and Ben giggled away under the covers upstairs. He’d got very stern and made you both write lines. I will complete my chores before I have sex one hundred times each. But for the most part his punishments were actually fun, if a little painful. Spanking and orgasm denial and bondage, things that you could get off on, and always for small misdemeanours like poking your tongue out at him or going over an edge before you had permission. Because you and Ben enjoyed giving up control so much, your slight bratty tendencies generally just signalled a desire to be pushed or for something a little harder than what he was giving you. When one of you acted out without involving the other he’d let them help with the punishment, giving you both an outlet for any of your slightly more dominant inclinations. But more often than not you’d wind up being punished together.

On one such occasion, you and Ben had started teasingly referring to Roger as Mr Softie within his hearing after he’d dripped ice cream on his shirt. He’d smiled and laughed along but that evening he’d got back at you, using your collars to chain you to the desk in his office, your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. For a while he left you there, just out of reach of each other, wondering what he had in store. The silence was broken every so often by one of you making a quiet suggestion as to what he might do to you or wondering when he’d return, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Your heart pounded in your chest but you only grew wetter as you were forced to wait and Ben seemed to be in a similar predicament, his pants getting steadily tighter. Finally, Roger returned, ignoring you as he placed a paddle and a vibrator down on the desk you were tied to. Without acknowledging you he unclasped Ben’s collar, giving it a tug to make Ben crawl toward the couch set up at the other end of the room.

“Sir?” Ben asked as he reached the couch, looking up at Roger from his place on the floor.

“Up on the couch. Face down. Now.”

Ben jumped to follow the direction, settling with his face pressed against one cushion, his knees resting on the other, and his hips as high in the air as he could comfortably manage.

“Right,” Roger said, turning back to the desk and continuing to ignore you, “It seems you need to be taught a lesson about respect. And I think the fastest way to teach you is to spank your arse raw. Maybe a few days of not being able to sit down will be a strong enough reminder that I own you and you will respect me.” As he talked, Roger retrieved the paddle and tapped it against his hand, just loud enough that Ben could hear, his whimpers rising as he waited for the first strike. You watched as Roger stalked towards Ben, raised his arm and brought it down hard on Ben’s arse, the shocked cry that escaped Ben almost enough to have you whining yourself. Roger didn’t pause, just lay three or four hits on Ben, each one hard enough that Ben tried to wriggle away and the sound cut through the mostly quiet room. Suddenly Roger reached for Ben’s cock, stroking his already hard member before laying another few spanks on him. Ben made a mixture of sounds, some of pain and some of pleasure but all of them egged Roger on as he edged Ben and turned his arse a dappled purple wherever the paddle struck.

“How does that feel slut? Does it hurt?” Roger’s tone shifted to one of mock whining and back in a matter of seconds, “that whore’s going to be in for it too since it was her idea to disrespect me.”

Ben howled as another few spanks hit him, tears getting lost in the cushion of the couch, but you could see how his hips jolted with every light touch to his dick and how he twitched when Roger retracted his hand.

You’d lost count of how many edges and spanks Ben had received by the time Roger hooked two fingers into the collar, using his grip to pull Ben up higher, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson or should I keep teaching you?”

Ben shook his head, eyes still watery and voice more of a sob, “no more, please, I understand,”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Do you think you should be allowed to cum now?”

“Yes please Sir,”

“Yeah? You think I should stop being mean and wank you off already?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay then Benny. But only if she manages to hold out.”

Ben whimpered but nodded, falling to his side.

Roger gently stroked his fingers through Ben’s with a few quiet words of praise before he turned to you. Just like with Ben, Roger unchained you and then made you crawl to the couch. It was awkward with your arms bound but you didn’t dare sit up straighter to walk on your knees, that would only leader to a harder punishment. When you reached the couch Roger stopped you, telling you to turn around and get into the same position Ben had been in, your face against the carpet and your arse in the air. The only difference was that you remained on the floor, your arse facing Ben. The first spank took you by surprise. You’d been so concerned with your position and wondering how closely Ben was watching that you’d forgotten what was coming. It was followed by another three in rapid fire, the paddle thwacking you with such force that you jolted forward each time.

“You’re in trouble Benny,” Roger said, bending slightly to drag his fingers along your cunt, “She’s already soaked. Don’t know she’ll last.”

You whined and squirmed as his fingers traced over you and then yelled when he hit you again. There was no pattern to his punishment, try as you might to find one. He gave you two hits and then pressed his fingers into you, fucking you with them for a moment, and then another five hits, his fingertips lightly rubbing your clit, another two spanks, a spank to your cunt, another three to your arse, and then his fingers again. But there was no way to tell how many spanks you’d endure before he edged you or even how he’d touch you, whether he’d twist his fingers inside you or circle your clit.

“Finger her for me,” Roger said and you heard Ben wince as he stood and knelt behind you. You heard Roger walk away as Ben sank his fingers into you. He slowly pulled them out and pushed them back in, wanting to do as he’d been told, but not wanting to accidentally push you over the edge lest he not get his own orgasm. That was until Roger, over his shoulder, told Ben to do it properly or be spanked again. After that Ben was merciless, shoving a third fingers into you and roughly pounding his them as deep as he could go.

“That’s better,” Roger said when he returned to your side, “make the whore pay for getting you into trouble.”

You cried out and tried to wriggle away as another spank came down on you, but it was impossible to escape with Ben’s fingers hooked in your cunt and your bound hands. All the same Roger placed one of his feet on the side of your head, holding you down against the carpet as he whacked you again and again, ignoring your screams and the tears soaking the carpet. He stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as a buzzing noise filled the room and you remembered the toy he’d brought in with the paddle.

 There was no way to suppress your moan as Roger held the vibrator against your clit, warning you not to cum. He held it there for a matter of seconds and then pulled it away again. Ben’s fingers left you a second later and then you were being tugged up by your collar again, the thick leather band pressing into your throat.

“On the couch, whore.”

“Yes, Sir,” you managed to sob as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

Once you were on the couch, positioned the same way you had been on the floor, Ben was handed the vibrator.

“Against her clit, highest setting. Don’t move it until I tell you.”

You whimpered, knowing there was no way you could hold back an orgasm with that kind of stimulation. But that didn’t seem to matter to Roger. He expected you to hold it, reminding you that you didn’t have permission in low growl as he spanked you on the back of your thigh. Your arse tingled all over, stinging twice as much whenever he hit you again but it was nothing to the sensation of the vibrator against your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined before another cry was ripped from you as Roger spanked the back of your other thigh.

“Don’t move it slut. The whore needs to fucking hold it.”

You tried but it was no use, there was nothing you could think of, nothing you could do, that could keep you from disobeying. You moaned as the orgasm rolled through you and heard Roger drop the paddle.

“Don’t move it Ben,” Roger growled as he stalked around to your head, pulling it up by the hair, “I thought I told you to hold it whore,”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you half yelled, whining as the vibrator kept buzzing against your clit.

“You will be.”

You lost sight of Roger as he shoved you back down and walked away.

“Guess we have our answer Ben. Since the whore couldn’t stop herself from cumming, you won’t be allowed to.”

“No, Sir, please, I really need to,”

“That was our deal though slut.”

“Sir,”

“Don’t argue, it’ll just make things worse for you. And don’t move that vibrator.”

Ben fell silent, though a few whimpers escaped him as he pressed the vibrator against you harder.

You were expecting another series of spanks, so when you heard the small jingle sound of Roger removing his belt you cringed away, assuming that was what he was going to hit you with. But instead of the swishing sound it made before a strike, it was followed by the sound of a zip. Roger grabbed your hips and pulled them around so he could press his cock into you. By now the vibrator against your clit felt painful, the overstimulation enough to make you sob but the feeling was only amplified by Roger fucking you hard, his jeans rubbing against your arse since he hadn’t bothered to push them down. You squealed and sobbed as he used your cunt, the vibrator torturing your sensitive clit and making you cry into the couch cushion. Roger just grunted about how tight you were and how your sobs just turned him on more, until finally he came deep inside you. Only after he pulled out did he take the vibrator from Ben, shushing you when you sobbed out a thank you. He stood behind you until he saw his cum dribble out of you and then pulled Ben up by the collar and told him to clean you up. There were footsteps as he left the room but neither of you dared disobey so Ben continued to spread your lips with his thumbs and lick along your slit, pulling a soft moan from you. Roger returned with a warm damp cloth and told Ben to stop. He swiped the cloth over your thighs and up along your lips, gently cleaning off whatever Ben had missed. When he was satisfied he asked you to move over and sat down in the centre of the couch.

“You did so well, Y/N,” he said softly, letting you rest your head in his lap and smoothing back your hair with his palm, “Do you wanna come up here Ben?”

Ben nodded and gingerly knelt on Roger’s other side, too sore to sit properly.

“You were such a good boy Ben, and I’m so proud of you for holding out,” he said as he lay the damp cloth flat against his hand and then reached for Ben’s dick, using the cloth to wank him, “You can cum now.”

Ben panted out a thank you, his voice falling into a moan as he finally got what he’d needed for so long. You watched through tired eyes as Roger’s fist pumped over Ben’s length until his hips stuttered and he moaned with his release. Roger kept praising him until he was completely spent, using the cloth to gather the evidence of the orgasm. It was thrown to the floor and Roger carefully unfastened Ben’s collar, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper that he loved him. He wrapped his arm around Ben and let him settle on his chest.

“Y/N, love, can you sit up for me?”

You nodded and slowly pushed yourself up, feeling a little dazed.

Roger gently removed your collar and kissed you too, taking an extra moment to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the last of your tears, and remind you how good you were and how much he loved you before he let you settle in his lap again. He knew he’d have to move you both eventually. There were ice packs and aloe downstairs in the kitchen that would help with your bruised arses and he’d have to make sure you both ate something and drank some water before you went to sleep. But Roger was happy just to sit there for a while to comfort and cuddle the two people he loved most.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Anything But Normal

A/n: this was such cute Idea I hope I did it justice. It’s been a while since I’ve written a comedy piece. There are probably spelling errors I’ll go back and fix them later. also I love Jon Favreau as Happy so I had to put him in. (i swear he is one of my favorite actors) btw this is not edited (i’ll come back and do that eventually)

Requested by: @tokiokiedokie​

Warnings: Cussing,(come on it's me guys), partial nudity.

Member: Han Jisung

Summary: When Y/n’s best friend goes through a drastic change he starts keeping secrets. Secrets that include him being New York’s one and only friendly neighborhood spiderman. Shit hits the fan when his new secret life is exposed and she gets dragged into it.

Genre: Spiderman!au, romance, comedy, friends to lovers!au, little bit of angst

There are only three things that truly matter in life. Good friends, good pizza, and a good story. So far I had two of those at the moment. Sadly I was lacking a good story. Our school newspaper had been quite dry despite my efforts to discover new and intriguing stories. 

“Stop sulking and eat.” My best friend said, shoving a piece of cheese pizza in my face. Jisung laughed when I bit the end before returning to look at my laptop. We were at our usual pizza place seated next to the window with the big bright red neon sign lighting up our faces. The sun set over the New York skyline making the moment almost perfect. If only I was writing an exciting article. Instead, I was putting together a riveting look into the school’s menu changes. 

“You know I invited you because I thought you were going to be good company.”

“Please. You invited me because Felix was busy with a stupid Lego project and no one else will eat pizza with you.”

“Whatever.”

Jisung and I weren’t the most popular people in our senior class. To be frank, Jisung was my only friend. So going out and eating pizza every other day at ten o’clock at night was often the highlight of my week. Having had enough of the lack of attention Jisung slammed my laptop closed and removed it from the already small table. “Hey! I didn’t save!” 

“That’s what Google Docs is for.”

He was right. I needed to stop working. I had been slaving over that stupid and boring article all week. He didn’t have to be such an ass though. “You are such a teenager.” I scoffed, watching him shovel yet another slice of pizza down his throat. “Oh, and you are such an adult!” The mocking tone of his voice threatened a laugh. 

“I swear you are God’s punishment for enjoying sex. Everyone’s libido just disappears when you are around.”

“Hey don’t ruin our date. I was considering sleeping with you tonight.”

He laughed when I threatened to smack him. It had been like this for as long as I could remember. Just me and Jisung. My parents had been friends with his before they passed away in a car accident. Now Jisung lived with his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben a few blocks away from me. 

I remember after the crash I would wake to a tap on my window to see an eight year old Jisung on my fire escape. Not wanting to bother his Aunt with his nightmares, Jisung had run all the way to my apartment and climbed the fire escape to my room on the sixth floor. I would open the window and let him sleep in my bed. My eight year old brain used to think maybe my bed was like force field keeping away the bad dreams about his parents.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” Jisung asked bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Mr. Finoli asked me to take pictures of the science field trip so I’m going with you guys. Why?” A look of realization crossed Jisung’s face making him freeze. “Did you forget to ask May to sign your permission slip?”

“I forgot to ask May to sign my-...you can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?”

Laughing I pulled a ten out of my wallet and left it on the table. “Come on, you’ve gotta get your slip signed, dummy.” “I can pay, it’s no problem.” He said watching me pack up my stuff. “Nah, you can get the next one.” Bellies full of pizza, we left Tony’s Pizzeria and headed in the direction of Jisung’s apartment, his arm draped over my shoulder and talking my ear off about some random experiment they had done in Physics that day. 

The next day I woke up bright and early to meet the class at the New York Museum of Science. Camera bag on my shoulder and camera around my neck I stood outside the museum with about ten other students and two teachers. My tired eyes brightened when I saw Jisung step out from the subway, May right behind him.

I laughed as he wiped a kiss from his cheek before waving goodbye to her. His dyed blonde hair was messy and blew slightly in the wind. Jisung waved when he saw me and jogged over. His hoodie lazily hung off his shoulder and his shirt and jeans were somewhat wrinkled. “Don’t you look nice?” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his appearance. 

“Shut up.”

He laughed throwing an arm around my shoulder, leading me closer to the group. Soon the tour began and I busied myself with taking photos of the group for the paper and yearbook. Jisung followed the group, only half-listening to the teacher as he looked at other random exhibits. 

At around one in the afternoon, the group moved outside to have lunch on the steps. I sat off to the side with Jisung, his legs spread out across the stairs and his elbow rested on the step above us. It was refreshing to be next to him talking about absolutely nothing. Even if he stole my food. 

Eventually, we were all called back to resume the tour. I angled a shot of two students looking at a bug exhibit, but just as I took the picture Jisung jumped in the frame throwing up a peace sign and crossing his eyes. “Hey! Stop hitting me!” He yelled as I smacked his shoulder over and over again. “Look I’m just innocently observing the exhibit. Leave me alone crazy woman!”

Sighing, I pushed him away and resumed taking photos. As the group was moving onto the next room I noticed Jisung was missing. It wasn’t unlike him to wander off into a room he wasn’t supposed to just to look at probably like some DNA model or some other weird science shit. I could never get over the fact Jisung was super into science when he gave zero fucks about his other classes. 

“Jisung?”

“Ji?”

“Ji, we are moving on,” I said looking for him. My eyes landed on a semi-open door marked ‘Lab’. He wouldn’t. He did. Just as I started to walk towards the door, he exited with a goofy smile on his face. “Y/n! Dude, they have all these cool spiders and test tubes in there it was so cool! One of them bit me!” Like an excited three-year-old, he showed me his wrist where he indeed had a red spider bite. 

“Ooooooh! Take a picture!” 

He shoved my camera into my hands and held up his arm pointing to the spider bite making the dopiest smile. Knowing he wouldn’t shut up until I complied, I took the picture. 

“Let’s catch up with the group,” I said taking his hand and dragging him back to the class. When we reached the group a teacher looked over at us his brows furrowing. “Excuse me, Miss L/n, is your friend okay?” He pointed to Jisung, a concerned expression on his face.

“Jisung? There are certainly things wrong with him but he’s oka-”

My words stopped when I turned to look at my best friend next to me. “Ji- Oh my god! Ji are you okay?” His face had obviously paled and he looked dizzy. A thin layer of sweat lay on his forehead. 

“Hell yeah. I’m doing fine, baby.” His voice sounded drowsy.

“Miss L/n he is not alright. Does he have anyone who can come get him.” The teacher said pulling out his phone. I shook my head. May worked in the day and his Uncle Ben was on a business trip. “No, they are working.” 

He sighed and turned to me. Jisung was clearly getting worse by the second and was wobbling a little. “What about you? Can you take him home?” Jisung laughed and wrapped his arms around me loosely. “Fuck yeah, I’d her take me home.” 

“I have a test in my last period.”

“I’ll write you a pass and send it to your teacher. Take him home please.”

Nodding he typed something on his phone and returned to the group who had started to move once again. “Okay Ji, let’s get you back to May’s.” Slowly we started moving to the exit. Before we made it to the doors, Jisung practically turned green. He pushed away from me and burst towards the nearest restroom. 

“Jisung!” 

Ignoring the looks and yells I followed Jisung into the restroom and looked for the stall he was in. “Hey, lady get out of here!” A man standing at the urinal screamed. 

“Oh please. Get over yourself.”

“Ji?”

Following the coughing and gagging sounds, I pushed the final stall door open. Jisung sat on the floor his mop of blonde hair hanging over the toilet. I crouched next to him and rubbed his back gently. “Oh god, I hate puking.”

“Jisung everyone hates puking.”

“Yeah well.....your face likes puking.”

“Nice comeback.”

Feeling too terrible to respond, he just threw up the contents of his stomach again. When he seemed able to stand the two of us made our way outside and down the subway. Jisung leaned most of his weight on me as I slid my metro pass through the scanner. How I managed to get him through the turnstile and onto the metro I have no clue. Thankfully there was once last seat free for Jisung to sit down in. 

“Y/n, I don’t feel good.” 

“I know,” I said softly as he rested his head against my stomach. The train turned sharply making me hold onto the strap, not wanting to fall into Jisung. Soft whines and groans came from him every now and then. This was the worst I had ever seen Jisung. 

I listened to the stations being called out as I ran my fingers through his hair, hoping that would calm him down a little. We were only four stops away but more people were getting on the train. Jisung looked up at me a sick expression on his face. It changed when he looked at the passengers boarding the car. 

“Here, Ma’am. You can take my seat.”

“Thank you so much, young man.” An older woman said taking his seat as he got up. “Jisung, you feel terrible. Are you okay to stand?” He shrugged latching onto the strap next to mine, his face paling again. “I’ll be fine, it’s only four stops.”

Jisung’s eyes started to droop as the train started up again. His body began to act heavier than it was so he resorted to leaning on me and nestling his head between my neck and shoulder. I did my best to make sure he didn’t fall over.

“You two are very cute together.” The old lady said with a smile.

“Oh- we aren’t--” 

“You better hold onto a good man like that, sweetie. Handsome and kind. Those are hard to come by.”

Before I could respond we turned again, and I had to keep Jisung from falling in this poor nice old lady’s lap. I felt his skin burning against mine. Could this train not go any faster. Soon enough our stop came. I said bye to the old woman and helped Jisung get off the train and up the subway stairs. 

“Come on, Ji. We are almost there and we both know I cannot carry your ass.” 

Eventually, I made it up the stairs of his apartment building to the fourth floor and managed to drag him to his door. “Jisung, where’s your key?” Trying not to hurt his head I propped him up on the door frame. He laughed when I started searching through his pockets.  

“Y/n if you wanted to cop a feel just ask. That tickles.” 

“Jisung where are your fucking keys?” 

“Back pocket.” He said drowsily. I sighed and reached behind him. My hands searched through his jean pockets for the cold metal keys. “Having fun back there, because I’m sure enjoying it.” 

I suppressed the urge to punch him in the stomach out of fear he would vomit all over me. Finally finding his keys, I unlocked the door and threw my stuff inside, before lugging him in as well. Jisung leaned on the couch while I put my stuff on the table.

“Y/n it’s burning up in here.” 

“Jisung, you just have a temperature.”

“It burns like fucking hell! It’s too hot!”

Before I could stop him Jisung was shedding layers like a snake. He tossed his shirt somewhere in the small living room. He was sweating like crazy, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Ji, come on let’s get you in the shower.” I started running a cold shower for him before rushing back to the living room to call May. It would only be a couple hours until she got home, but I should still let her know what’s going on.

While Jisung was in the shower, I grabbed some medicine from the cabinet. I had absolutely no fucking idea how to treat a spider bite. Antibiotics? Hearing the shower turn off I knocked before entering. Jisung had a towel wrapped around his waist and was leaning his head against the wall. “Y/n...”

“I’m right here, Jisung.” Cautiously I led him to his room and watched him collapse onto his double bed. Rummaging through his drawers I found some mostly clean sweatpants. “Ji, do you even do laundry?” 

“Y/n, I feel a little too fucking sick to do chores now.”

“I know. I know.” He slipped on the sweatpants and let me dry his hair. I wrapped his arms, covering the bite so it wouldn’t get more infected then it already probably was. Jisung’s temperature flipped like crazy. One minute he was burning up and the next he was freezing. 

A sigh of relief left my chest when I heard May call out in the apartment. “Y/n thank you so much for taking care of him.” She gave me a short hug before running to go get more meds. She would know better than I would, being an ER nurse. “Ji, do you want me to stay? I can call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night.” He slowly shook his head.

“No, it’s okay.” 

“I can stay really-”

“Y/n, I’ll be fine. You can go home.” 

He gave me a half-assed smile and squeezed my hand. There was no arguing with Jisung sick or not so I gathered my things and left. May promised to keep me updated and I told her I would have my phone next to me.

The walk back to my apartment seemed longer than usual. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jisung. When I got home, my parents greeted me before telling me they would be working tonight. My dad was a cop and my mom worked at a hospital downtown. It was rare they were even home, to begin with. Exhausted from taking care of Jisung, I rolled onto my bed and fell asleep.

This boy really texted me at five the morning telling me to meet him at his locker three hours later. If he wasn’t still sick I would for sure have throttled him. Except for the fact that Jisung didn’t look sick. Not at all. He looked perfectly healthy as he walked down the hall towards me. In fact, he looked...really....good. It pissed me off. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

“Yeah, I got better.”

Jisung opened his locker like it was any other day and got his books. “What did you want to talk about?” He sighed and looked over at me. There was something different about him. Did his jaw always look like that? No. No jaw looks like that. 

“So this morning I woke up and like I felt completely fine. In fact, I felt the best I have in years. And this weird thing happened to me on the subway-”

Jisung’s words were interrupted by the sound of his locker closing, only the entire row of metal lockers rattled as his shut. “The fuck? Did we have an earthquake or something?” I asked looking around. “What? No. New York isn’t on a fault line.” Shrugging it off I turned back to Jisung.

“You were saying?” He seemed distracted now, looking at his closed locker. “Ummm.... I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. “Ji, you don’t need to thank me. I’ll always take care of you if you need me.” As I pulled away his hands stayed on my waist, which wasn’t totally out of the norm. Jisung was always a really touchy and flirty person. It drove me crazy sometimes, knowing that it was just his personality and not him acting on something else. 

“So this weird thing happened on my way to school this morning. My hand-” Again Jisung was interrupted. This time by the bell ringing for homeroom. “Hey Jisung, I’ve gotta go, but you can tell me at lunch right?” He nodded, his expression becoming more uneasy. As I turned his grip on my waist stopped me.

“Ji, I know you wanna tell me now but I have to go!” I said with a laugh. A nervous breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tried to pull away from me. “Well, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you.” Arching an eyebrow I chose to ignore his weird behavior and walked off to my homeroom. 

When the lunch bell finally rang I took my food outside to where Ji and I normally ate. However, he was nowhere in sight. As if he could read my thoughts, my phone notified me of a text from Jisung.

Lix asked me to help him with some Chem work. Sry I can’t eat with you :(

I sent him a quick reply saying it was okay. It wasn’t the first time I had eaten alone and it surely wouldn’t be the last. To no surprise, Chaeyoung and one of her friends walked by. “Have you seen that kid? What’s his name? Jihyun?” She said in her shrill voice. It was hard not to hear her conversation even from twenty feet away.

“No, I think his name is Jisung. Han Jisung. He is in my physics class. Kind of a dweeb if you ask me.” 

“Well, that dweeb filled out. He was probably just a late bloomer, but like all of a sudden, he got really hot. Have you seen his arms and his chest? Oh my god! A girl could die.” 

The girls laughed and continued to objectify my best friend. They were right. Jisung had seemed to have had a huge glow up overnight. His lanky form did seem more toned and his arms were much more muscular than I remembered. 

“Can you believe he still hangs out with that new junkie girl? Like, please. He could get any girl he wants now. Why stay friends with that waste of space?” 

“That bitch is so full of herself. Literally, no one even likes her.” Chaeyoung said laughing. Having heard enough, I got up and decided to go to my next class early. It didn’t necessarily bother me what she had said. Chaeyoung always liked to mess with me.

All my classes seemed slower than usual and Jisung was answering my texts. At this point in the day, we would probably be having a meme war or a stupid conversation ignoring our teachers, but my phone was silent. Not a single notification. 

By the end of the day, I was feeling totally depressed. English was my last class and thank god I had it with Jisung. No doubt he would be late though. He rarely ever showed up on time to class. But, as I walked through the classroom door I did a double-take seeing my best friend in his usual seat right beside mine. 

He gave me an innocent smile. This was strange. Jisung was never early. He looked...normal. I mean other than the physical overnight puberty storm. He slouched in his chair his long legs spilling into the aisle, not that he cared, and he twirled a pen between his long slender fingers. 

“Yo, wassup, cutie?” He said as I sat down. “You seem to be the talk of the school.” He shrugged and shuffled through some physics work he had on his desk. “You jealous?” That stupid smirk appeared on his mouth. “No. Just confused.”

“Okay, class. Settle down. We are going to be returning to our analysis of Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility.” 

I busied myself with taking thorough notes knowing Jisung would just fall asleep again or just play a random game on his phone. The teacher droned on making a seemingly not boring book a complete snooze fest. The lecture continued without end threatening to send me to sleep as well. Out of habit, I looked over at Jisung, except he was not asleep. Jisung was wide awake and he appeared to be listening intently. 

As if he sensed I was looking at him he turned and smiled at me before returning his attention to the front of the classroom. This was too weird. Where was my Jisung? Maybe he was still sick. That could explain the weird behavior, right? 

The harsh sound of the release bell brought me out of my thoughts. Jisung was already packing up his stuff. “Hey, you wanna stop by Tony’s on the way home? You can buy me a slice!” I said latching onto his arm. The girls were right. Jisung had filled out. Feeling myself starting to blush, I let go and looked back up at my best friend. 

“I can’t. I’ve gotta run some errands fro May and then Uncle Ben asked me to pick up dinner and some other stuff.”

“I can come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll text you later!” 

Without another word, Jisung raced out of the classroom. I knew Jisung pretty well and it was clear he didn’t want me around today. Alone-again- I rode the subway back to my apartment to be greeted by an empty living room. My mom had left a note on the counter leaving me money for dinner and saying Jisung was welcome to come over. “Yeah, well he’s too busy,” I said to no one in particular. 

It got dark pretty quick. All my homework was finished. I even managed to submit the stupid article on lunch menus. Eventually, I had nothing to do but stare at my ceiling. The news was getting pretty boring. After the whole Avenger’s fiasco, things had quieted down, and no interesting stories were in sight. By 11:30 I had given up hope Jisung was going to text let alone call so I did the next best thing. 

“Hi, May! Is Jisung busy?” 

“Hi, sweetie! Jisung got home about an hour ago. He said he was out with Felix. Should I tell him to call you?”

“No, no. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell him. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay, honey. Goodnight!”

Han Jisung you filthy little liar. If he didn’t want to hang out with me he should have just said so. Deciding I had finally had enough of this awful day I curled up under my covers and fell asleep.

Months had now passed and Jisung had started acting normal again. Well as normal as Jisung could be anyway. Our near daily trips to Tony’s had decreased to only twice a week and Jisung always seemed to be busy after school, though he made sure to text me back for fear of facing my wrath. 

“What do you think of this Spiderman guy?” I asked typing away on my laptop. Jisung lounged across my bed, the Saturday afternoon light casting a warm glow over his face.  He looked up from his place beside me. “Uhh...I don’t know. What do you think of him?”

“He seems a little childish and amateur, but he is a great story. Vigilante helping out downtown New York? That’s gold.”

“Childish? What do you mean childish? He’s professional as fuck. I heard he stopped a bank robbery the other day.”

“Yeah, and they found the criminals hanging from a lampost by their underwear.”

Jisung laughed and ran a hand through his blonde hair before looking up at the ceiling. “You’ve been talking about Spiderman a lot lately. What do you have a crush on him?” I scoffed, fingers flying across my keyboard. “Please. I don’t date children. Besides, I just think he is a great story.”

“You wanna order takeout?” Jisung asked reaching over me to get my phone. My dad was on duty and my mom was on call so Jisung had come over to keep me company. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice how amazing he smelled as he leaned over me. “You know you should really stop eating junk food. You are what you eat.” I said distracting myself from how close he was.

“Well then if we are what we eat, I guess I would be fast, cheap, and easy.” 

Jisung winked at me, making my eyes roll. Jisung had grown at home in his new body and somehow he got even cockier than he was before. He groaned at my lack of response and instead let his head rest in my lap, giving him a good view of my screen. “Play with my hair, bitch.”

“Excuse me, dick. I’m working.” He laughed and unlocked my phone. I often wondered why he liked just sitting with me. I think I remembered him telling me once that he liked the sound of me typing. He said it had sort of a rhythm that only belonged to me. How he could pick up on that I had no clue. Like he had superhearing. 

“I ordered sushi. Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Jisung said, adjusting his body slightly so he wasn’t at an awkward angle. I smiled continuing to write about our masked arachnid hero. “Please tell me you got boba too.” I sighed suddenly craving the sweet drink.

“Of course, baby. I’ve got you.” 

There was a moment of silence. Any minute now Jisung was going to break it. The boy couldn’t go three minutes without talking. “Do you think Spiderman is hot?” Jisung blurted out. 

“Jisung...do we need to have a talk?”

“What- no! Oh, what- no! I mean like do you think he’s hot?”

“The guy wears a mask; how am I supposed to know?”

He shrugged and played on my phone. “I don’t know. What do you think he looks like?” With Jisung’s mind, he wasn’t going to drop this until he got an answer. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and moved it onto the side table. “He’s probably like thirteen. I’m mean he is skinny enough to be a pre-teen.”

“No, like his face.”

“You are weirdly obsessed with this you know.”

“Answer the question already. I’m getting bored.”

I thought for a minute, my hand unconsciously moving to run through his blonde locks. What would spiderman look like? “He is probably just some random white dude. Dark hair, blue eyes maybe?”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. The topic changed after that. Jisung told me about spending time with his Uncle earlier that day and we talked about his weird physics experiments. Soon enough, the food came and Jisung paid for it like he said he would. We spent the next several hours sitting in my bed eating sushi, drinking boba, and watching a drama Jisung insisted I ‘needed to see or my brain would explode out of my ears from being lame’.

After several episodes, my room was obscenely dark and my parents had yet to come home. My back rested against Jisung’s chest letting me feel the vibration of his laughs. “Hey, it’s late. You should probably head home.” He smiled when I made no attempt at moving or letting him up. “Do you want me to stay?” “Yes  please.”  He chuckled and pulled out his phone, calling his uncle and letting him know. 

Soon I began to grow tired, my head slumping back onto his shoulder. He poked my side, trying to wake me up. “Hey, go change for bed.” Sleepily, I nodded and shuffled out of bed to sift through my closet for a nightshirt. Jisung moved around getting comfortable while I changed. 

As I walked back over to the bed Jisung shut my laptop and placed it on my nightstand. When I climbed back into my bed he pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist. It had been quite a while since Jisung had stayed over. It felt so nice just to be next to him, feeling the warmth radiating off his bare chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep. 

Jisung’s ringtone blared in my small room quickly waking me up. “Ji-” I said shoving my head under the covers. “I got it. Go back to sleep.” A quick glance at my clock told me it was two am. Who the hell was calling Jisung at two am? Jisung reached over me and grabbed his phone off the stand. He tried not to move a lot because my head still lay on his arm. “Hello?”

“Happy? What’s wrong?”

“Jisung tell the Disney dwarf to hang up. I wanna go back to sleep.” I whined, drowsily. Snuggling back into his chest, I reluctantly listened to him sleepily talk on the phone, Jisung not being fully awake himself. “Where am I? I’m at Y/n’s.....Yes....Yes, you can add the location to the list.” I felt Jisung run a hand through his fluffy hair and sigh.

“Mr. Stark said what? Yeah, yeah I have it in my bag....What now?....She’s gonna kill me....I can be there in ten.” Jisung hung up and started to get out of bed. “Woah, where the hell are you going? I need my personal space heater.” Jisung let out a tired laugh as he slipped his baggy shirt back on and rummaged through his bag looking for something. 

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Jisung who the fuck is calling you at two am? What is so important that you have to leave?” I asked still not really awake and comprehensive. “Uhhh....my....internship.”

“Your what?”

“My internship.”

“Your what?” 

“My internship.” 

“Yeah-Ji- you keep saying ‘your internship’ like my half-asleep half murderous mind will understand what your saying.”

 “I got an internship with Stark Industries. They have uh... a problem....with some of the...code that I wrote....last week.” 

Jisung started slipping his socks back on as I stared at him in confusion. “When did you get an internship with freaking Tony Stark -You work with Ironman?!” He laughed and started searching for his shoes. 

“Y/n, go back to sleep. I’ll see you on Monday.” Then he left. I was alone once again in my room. A random siren went off in the distance and I just sat in bed. Suddenly, the police scanner on my dresser crackled to life. My dad had given it to me for my birthday a few years ago. 

We have a 647g Disorderly Conduct at 284 Hickom Av.

647g? Why bother calling that in at this time of night? That was just loitering. Sighing, I got up and walked over to turn the radio off. Another voice coming through stopped me. 

Disregard suspect has left the premise with another group of guys. Headed south down Hickom. 

South down Hickom street? What had my dad said earlier this week? Something about several high arms deals going down near there. If I could catch one in the act this would be a great story! Throwing on some pants and slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my camera and put on my jacket. “Finally a great story!” 

Hickom Avenue was maybe about ten minutes away. The streets were pretty dark at two am, but it didn’t really bother me. My curiosity overpowered any fear I should have. My eyes scanned the area looking for any sign of the guys the scanner mentioned. Just as I was about to cross in front of an alley I saw them. Quickly I doubled back and pressed against the wall. 

“If I’m paying 4k for some lightsaber shit, I’d better get a demonstration, man.”

Carefully I peeked around the corner. Seven men stood in the hallway. Three were next to this heavy-duty van with blacked-out windows. This was definitely an arms deal if I had ever seen one. Which....to be fair...I hadn’t. But it was pretty clear. 

A guy with muscles bigger than my head pulled out a large weapon with green glowing lights. Quickly I pulled out my camera and started snapping pictures. They proceeded to fire this huge light cannon around the alley. Holy shit. This thing was powerful.

“Okay, you got a deal. I’ll take four-”

Let’s dance the night away,

Let’s  dance the night away,

Yeaaaahh

One, Two, Three! Let’s go!

“Fuck,” I whispered ripping my phone out of my pocket and struggling to turn it off. “Turn off, come on.” Finally, I silenced the phone and turned to see if they had heard. Instead my eyes met a broad chest only a couple inches away. 

Okay....think, think, think. Too busy panicking. Can’t think. Uhhhhhh......fuck. I followed my first instinct and threw a punch at the guy’s nose. His head did not recoil like it was supposed to. He just simply cracked his neck and glared down at me.

Okay.....instincts bad.

Before I knew it I was struggling against the man’s grip as he dragged me into the alley. “We’ve got a visitor.” He said throwing me onto the ground in front of all the other men. They sneered and inched closer clearly quite upset I had interrupted their little party. 

“Make that two. Hey, how are you guys doing?” 

All heads turned to the roof of the liquor store we were next to. My eyes widened. There was Spiderman. Complete with the red and blue suit and cocky childish attitude. “Who the fuck are you?” The buff guy, who now had his foot digging into my stomach, said.

“Bro....Come on. I’m Spiderman. You know. I shoot webs and kick ass.” 

“Isn’t he that guy from YouTube that did the flip on that building?”

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The man scoffed and pressed further onto my stomach, making me wince slightly. “Scram, Arachne Boy.” The men around me laughed at I assumed the leader’s joke. The hero sighed and shook his head.

“See now I have to beat you up. You can’t just make fun of my name. That shit hurts, bro.”

“What the fu-” Before he could finish his sentence a web shot and grabbed onto his face and flung him into the side of the building. Soon a fight broke out. Trying to remove myself from the situation I crawled away as Spiderman fought all the men. 

“Ah!” 

A strong hand grabbed the back of my neck and hoisted me off the ground. “You aren’t getting away that easy, little girl.” The man sneered. A huge welt was on the side of his face from Spiderman’s attack. My airway’s started to close as he squeezed tighter. My hands tried to pull his fingers away and slapping at any place I could reach. Meanwhile, the last thing I would hear before I died would be Spiderman yelling something about Naruto running a dude into the next Millenium. 

As the edges of my vision started to fade, I heard another voice come closer. “Get your fucking mutant hands off her!” It screamed. I was dropped to the ground. Air filled my lungs as I took huge gasps. Looking up I saw Spiderman taking on the huge monstrosity of a man with nothing but his own two hands. 

“I was told never to play with guns. But I think today might be the exception.”

A web shot out of his fingertips and pulled the weird contraption into his hands. A bright light emitted and fired at the man, blasting him into the building wall. Within seconds Spiderman had wrapped up the villain in a little cocoon of sticky webs, keeping him secure. A quick look around told me he had already done the same to the others. 

The boy in the red suit danced around like a weirdo, while I sat on the ground. “Go Spidey! Go Spidey! Hell yeah! I made all of you my bitches!” I coughed still trying to get air back into my lungs. The white eyes on his mask widened. It must be some pretty advanced tech in that suit.

“Holy shit- Are you okay, Y/n...........I mean...wait-...random citizen I don’t know who means nothing to me personally. Are you okay?”

His voice weirdly got lower halfway through his sentence. Dazed, I looked back up at him. He offered me a hand up and gratefully I took it. “Thanks for helping back there,” I said, voice coming out a bit sore. He shrugged and puffed out his chest. 

“Yeah, I did kick some serious ass didn’t I?”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my camera and started to walk away. “Wait! Where are you going?” He swung from a lamppost and landed in front of me the suit’s eyes widening and shrinking again. His suit must have facial readers or something. 

“I’m going home. I’ve got my story; I’m done.”

“Hey it’s not safe. Let me take you home. What would your friends say if you weren’t at school tomorrow?” 

Spiderman continued to follow me as if he were a lost puppy. I laughed when he almost tripped over a trashcan. “Okay, one- how do you know I’m a student? And two- I don’t really have any friends. People don’t like me at school.” He stopped in his tracks. 

“What do you mean- Are you getting bullied at school?” His words stopped me. He sounded genuinely concerned. By now we were halfway to my apartment. I simply stared at him as the old streetlights flickered and struggled to light up the sidewalks we were on.

“A couple people bother me, but I just ignore them. Look I’m gonna go home. Thanks for back there. You were a real hero.” 

He looked between me and my hand as I stuck it out for him to shake. Slowly he took it, his grip firm, but cautious. “You know, usually heroes get a thank you kiss for rescuing such a gorgeous girl.” I scoffed and pulled my hand away. 

“Sorry, Spidey. I’m not interested in cocky little shits who run around wearing masks.”

“Yeah well, you’d be surprised. What is your type? Bet, I’m still it.”

My eyes lit up thinking about him. “I guess I’m more of the boy next door type. They say you always fall for your best friend right?”

He blinked as if he was processing my words. What I thinking? A horny fourteen-year-old boy wouldn’t understand. “Night, Spidey. Thanks for the save.” Not letting him say another word, I headed back to my apartment. My apartment was still empty when I returned. My parents wouldn’t be back until after I left for school in a few hours. Reluctantly I went back to my bed, missing the space where Jisung lay only a few hours earlier. It was harder to fall asleep without him next to me.

My legs carried me as quickly as they could. I ignored the crazy looks from people on the street as I raced to May’s apartment. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I burst through the building’s main entrance. Knowing the elevator would take too long and it was probably broken again, I took the stairs up to the fourth floor. 

The door was unlocked when I ran into the apartment. “May? May!” I called, looking for her in the living room. Hearing small cries I turned to find her exiting the kitchen. With open arms, I let her hug me and cry into my shoulder. 

We sat in the kitchen in silence. Occasionally one of our cries would slip, but the emptiness would return. He wasn’t answering any of my calls. I was beginning to worry. May said they were together. Where was he? It had been hours since May had called me. The sound of the door opening made us both stand from our seats. 

Jisung walked in with heavy shoulders and blood on his forehead and smeared across his shirt. He had dried tears staining his cheeks. I had seen the footage of the shooting on the news with May, but the sight of Jisung standing before us made my heart break. 

I held myself back as May went to her nephew. They needed each other. I could wait. Whispers between the two were shared, most likely about her husband. She had already gotten a call, but hearing it from Jisung seemed important to her. After a moment she excused herself, saying something about wanting to go to bed. 

The two of us stood in silence. I had no idea how to comfort him. How could you comfort someone who just watched their uncle die? Jisung started to slowly move towards his room. Wordlessly, I followed. 

After I closed his door, I turned to find him staring at the walls small cries coming from his form. There were pictures of him and his uncle all over his room. Jisung sighed when I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He turned around so he could hold me to his chest. Hot tears fell against my neck as he cried. 

It felt like hours before he calmed down. Gently I led him over to the bed and sat him down. All he could do was stare at his hands as I grabbed a clean shirt from his closet and a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was no fight from him as I lifted the bloodied shirt from his body and put it in the hamper. 

Carefully, I lifted his chin and gently started cleaning the blood away from his face. I tried not to wipe away the tears that slowly ran down his cheeks. He looked broken-and tired like he hadn’t slept even before today’s events. My heart shattered when he finally looked me in the eye. 

“I’m not ready for this.” He whispered, more tears falling. 

Wrapping my arms around him, I let the clean shirt fall to the floor. “I know...” I tried to keep tears from falling from my own eyes. I concentrated on running my fingers through his hair and how tightly he held onto my waist. “You’re never going to be ready for it.” He cried even harder, making me want to scream for him. 

Slowly, I laid back onto his bed, holding him on top of my chest. “No one is ever ready for what you are going through,” I whispered. His body shook from crying and he buried his nose into my neck, holding onto me as if I were the only tether keeping him from floating away. “But, you are so strong. We aren’t faced with challenges we can’t overcome.” His breathing started to steady as my hand traced patterns on this bare skin of his back. “Sometimes I wish I was normal,” He whispered.

“Ji, you are anything but normal. And that’s okay. But for now...you can just be here. I’ll be with you. When you’re ready you can do whatever you need to. But...just stay here for now.”

He nodded and held onto me even tighter. I listened to his breath, gently rubbing his back and playing with his hair. When I knew he was asleep, I let myself do the same. Tomorrow would be another day. I would most likely have to leave and let Jisung and May grieve, but for now, I could be with him. Hopefully, that was enough. 

Early the next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. Jisung’s covers were loosely wrapped around me and his window was cracked open, letting a strip of sunlight in. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my head. It was quite unusual for him to be up this early. Well, it was quite unusual for me to be up this early, but it was like my body had a sensor for when he was gone. I pulled my phone from the table and started to text him.

The sound of the window opening caused my attention to turn. I froze as I saw Jisung climbing through the window. “What the fuck!” He froze when he saw me. My eyes widened, taking the sight in. Jisung was standing before me wearing a familiar red and blue suit, a mask in his hand. 

“Y/n, I can explain...”

Was Jisung Spiderman? Was my best friend Spiderman? Holy shit! “Okay explain!” He simply stared at me, eyes wide. His hand came to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes avoided mine as my arms crossed my chest. 

“Jisung, might I suggest explanation protocol #38 for Miss L/n?”

“Oh my God! Friday, shut up! You aren’t helping.”

I watched as Jisung said to the AI apparently in his suit before he tossed the mask onto his desk. “You have an explanation protocol for me?” The look on his face showed that he knew he was in trouble. 

“See the thing is...I’m not Spiderman-...” He stopped when I glared at him. “Okay, I am Spiderman. This is my internship with Mr.Stark.” Without hesitation, I got up from his bed and started slapping his arm.

“This doesn’t even hurt, does it? You have superstrength. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking murder you.” An aggravated sigh left my chest. “So this whole entire time you have been swinging around the city saving people and doing flips on buildings and I was none the wiser?” I said turning back to him.

“That was one time! But...yes.” He stood awkwardly in his own room. “Look, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He gulped when my stern gaze turned back on him. “So, anything you ask I’ll answer.” 

“Who else knows?”

“Mr. Stark, Happy- the guy who is my supervisor-, and Felix.”

“FELIX?”

He flinched as my voice raised. Taking a breath, I calmly sat back down on his bed. He watched as I crossed my legs and turned off the sound on my phone. No way was I gonna let my parents interrupt this conversation. “How did you become like...this...” I asked pointing to his clearly toned physique.

“At first I thought it was just like another puberty thing. But, like puberty doesn't make me shoot webs out of my hands. I think it was that spider from the lab.”

“So do-...are all your...bodily fluids...like...webs? Like do you shoot webs out of everywhere or-”

“You wanna find out?” Jisung said with a smirk, coming closer. I did not hesitate to slap him. 

“You couldn’t think of a better name though? Spiderman, really? You couldn’t come up with something more aggressive?”

“Well, I mean...like - spiders are cool, okay!”

I could tell he was uncomfortable. Usually, Jisung always stood up straight and had some sort of a smile or smirk on his face, but he was truly nervous. He watched me expectantly, waiting to answer whatever questions I asked next.

“So when you said you were away on a company retreat for the weekend. That was actually you who was fighting Captain America and all that shit in Prauge?”

“Yes.”

“When you left that night, did you go to the arms deal?”

“Yes.”

“So, it was you who saved me.”

“Your welcome.”

“Don’t push it.”

Nervously, he let out a laugh. No matter how many questions I asked...he was still my best friend. I was proud of him. He was doing so much good. Don’t get me wrong I was still very pissed at him for not telling me. “You owe me pizza at Tony’s for the rest of the fucking year.” A sigh of relief left his chest and he wrapped me in a hug. 

“That’s fine by me. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask about the whole crush thing.” I pulled away to see that fucking smirk on his mouth. “I think it’s cute you’re in love with me.” He tugged me closer to his body, gripping my waist.

“Who says I’m in love with you?”

“Me.”

“You’re an asshole- you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“I’m an asshole, not a liar. There’s a difference.”

My breath caught in my throat when I saw his eyes glance down to my lips. I could practically feel my heartbeat pulsing through my entire body. It was true and he knew it. I was in love with him. “Well....what are you going do about it? Prick...” I said in a shaky breath. He let out a soft laugh, his eyes lighting up. 

“Kiss you....bitch.”

My heart went crazy as he pressed his lips to mine. Closing my eyes, I melted into his touch. This was definitely the craziest two days of my entire life. I never would have imagined I would have to comfort my best friend, find out he was a superhero running around New York, and then have him kiss me in his bedroom.

Jisung smiled as I kissed him back, draping my arms around his neck and threading my fingers through his blonde hair. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought kissing Jisung would be like this. Without his mouth leaving mine he pushed me up against the wall of his bedroom. He sighed when my teeth caught his bottom lip.

“Fuck...do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asked before returning to my lips. 

“Kissing me?”

“To be honest I’ve been thinking about more than that since I was thirteen.”

Ignoring my scoff, Jisung continued to attack my lips like he had found water for the first time after walking in a desert. His hands slid under my legs, making me shriek when he picked me up. In one swift motion, he turned around and threw me onto his bed, before hovering over me. ��I love you,” He whispered, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. Slowly, he moved down to my neck, my hands running through his soft hair. Impatiently, I pulled him back to my lips. 

Our little makeout session was interrupted by the sound of Jisung’s phone ringing. He sighed and dropped his head onto my shoulder. “I have to get that,” He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, walking over to pick up his phone. My eyes couldn’t help but rake over him. Now, I could freely ogle how gorgeous his body was. I bit my lip, looking at the lines of his broad shoulders go down to his slim waist.

“Happy, now is not a good time.”

“Yes....among other things...” A blush flooded his cheeks as he looked back at me still laying on his bed. 

“Can’t Mr. Stark send someone else?”

“I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Getting bored, I got up and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to look over at me, but I just buried my face in his chest. Patiently, I waited for him to finished the call with Happy. Finally, he threw the phone onto his bed and kissed me again. “Do you have to go?” I asked against his lips. He pulled away another smirk filling his face.

“You want to go to Berlin for a week?”

“What?”

“Mr. Stark needs me in Berlin. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D and an Avenger thing. But, there is no way May will let me go. Especially after yesterday.”

“Why am I going?”

“Happy said I could take you with me, you know to convince May to let me go.”

I laughed and kissed him again. “Sure. I’ll go to Berlin with you.” He laughed and spun me around the room. “However, you are gonna be the one to tell my dad that we are going alone with no chaperone to a country where the drinking age is sixteen.” 

“Fuck.”

“Good luck, Ji.”

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