#there will be another set coming of some of my favorite closeups

[mortemain]

COSTAS MANDYLOR as Ryan Mitchell in STEALTH FIGHTER (1999) dir. Jim Wynorski

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch.27/41

Chapter  27: "Don't say I didn't warn you"

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV, hand job,

Series Masterlist 

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter  27: "Don't say I didn't warn you"

It takes about 10 minutes to recover.  Him from cumming and  you from…well… not cumming. He doesn’t talk, just holds you as he leans on the counter, legs crossed at the ankle. You are snuggled under his chin, ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat and unconsciously matching your breathing to his. 

A timer goes off, and Austin checks the film, the dryer has done its job well. He asks you to turn on the regular light, you both blink in the brightness. He tucks his shirt back in, you smooth your hair and wipe your face again. You both check one another over for tell tale signs of what you have been up to. Satisfied, well he is anyway, you retrieve all your things and open the door. 

“Wow, that was fast, that dryer is a game charger, huh,” says the young attendant,  “let me show you our new scanner?”  He was excited to tell you all about their new very fancy digital scanner when you arrived.  Austin decides to try it. And after being shown the basics, Austin sets to it.

You go in search of snacks, knowing it’ll take a bit. You end up walking around the block down to Austin Street, of all the fucking names in the world,  and getting some pork and chicken skewers with some rice for each of you at a place called Banh Mi Factory.  The walk does you some good, calms you down as you take in people going about their everyday business. 

When you get back about 45 minutes later, Austin is almost done.  He motions you over to see.

You look over his shoulder at the screen as each image comes up. There are several good ones at Natural Bridge; in front of the waterfall, against the tropical trees and rocks. The are like artsy vacation photos. 

Then there are the ones of Goddess You naked in the forest.  In one,  You are laying naked in the water, Your hair is streaming around Your head and Your hands carelessly half covering Your tits. Staring into the camera like You were about to hand out a fucking sword.  It’s amazing. 

“I’m gonna print that one, and a few others here in a minute.” he says, munching a chicken satay skewer.

There are a few of him that you took. One really strikes you. It is of him looking directly at the camera with a shy smile that curls his lip up. So simple, but you need it. 

“Can I have that one?”  he nods and writes it down. 

There are a couple of you in your sexy dress from behind with your arms up. The one with you looking to the side is amazing. The muscles of your back are gorgeously highlighted by the light from the sliding door. You look like an actual model, damn.  

You start giggling at the Charlie’s Angel one, providing the soundtrack for the next one of you laughing. 

“I absolutely love this one, it’s my favorite, ” says Austin, looking up at you, “it’s so very you.” 

You respond with a kiss, then wrap yourself around him from behind. 

The one with you looking down at him, your dress bunched in your hands almost exposing yourself is sexy as fuck. The closeups of your dripping pussy with your own finger inside you, a drop running down your inner thigh look intimately artistic. Then he starts in on the ones of you tied up: you gagged with the rope and your arms tied up above you, one with your ass in the air tied to the ottoman. 

“Wow,” you growl in his ear, “I didn't know looking at myself would be so hot.”

“Um yeah, you are fucking hot Kitten,” he kisses your cheek. 

Once he has them all digitally on a USB stick. He decides to print a handful of these from the negatives, old school. So back into the darkroom he goes. 

You decide to wander the gallery. The exhibit is by a photographer named Alex Buckingham. There is one that just strikes your fancy called “The Dive”. You buy a print, deciding to use it in your Uncle’s remodel.  

The attendant tells you about the tucked away coffee shop across the street. You go sit for a few minutes sipping coffee. You snag one to go for Austin.

When he emerges he looks quite pleased with himself. You hand him his drink. 

“How do you know just what I need, Kitten,” he kisses your cheek. You walk out of there with several 8X10’s in an envelope and a very happy man. 

The uber ride back to the hotel is quiet. Austin looks glued to his phone while you seem to stare out the window shifting uncomfortably in your seat and randomly tapping your hand. To outside eyes it would look like he is inattentive and you are pissed about it. In actuality, Austin is playing with all the settings on the vibe and you are trying viciously not to cum in your already soaked panties. 

Once at the Emporium, Austin stops by the concierge to chat about dinner reservations. You wait a few steps behind, arms crossed and antsy. 

“Good,” he says, placing his hand on your waist and guiding you to the elevators, “we have reservations for 5:45 at a place called Bacchus. So we have about an hour and ½ to get ready.” 

“Good, that should be enough time,” you shoot him a sexy glance. 

As you step onto the elevator, your pussy starts vibrating, hard. You walk to the back corner and turn around. You are antsy; crossing your arms, shaking your leg,  rubbing your  thumb along your lip. You must look like some kind of drug addict. Well, Austin is a fucking stimulant, as hot as he is leaning up against the opposite back corner, just watching you with those sexy blue eyes, a tiny, amused smile on his mouth. 

Fuck. As soon as the door closes, you are going to pounce on him. You may not make it all the way to the suite before your clothes are off.

Unfortunately, a person steps into the elevator with you at the last second. They smile at you and turn around pushing their floor. Austin looks at his phone. Changing the pattern of the vibe and watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

The buzzing is starting to make you feel a little numb, which is honestly a good thing since you are so turned on. What might that 3rd person do if you just started humping Austin in the elevator? You are seriously considering it when you hear a ding and they get off  a couple floors below yours.  

The second the elevator doors close you rush, crashing  together in the middle of the elevator, lips, chests, hands. 

“Fuck, turn it off,” you beg. He quickly does. His mouth is on your neck, sinking his top teeth into the meaty part. It makes your knees buckle under you. 

“I want you to know,” he whispers in your ear, holding you up, “that before this day is over,  I am going to have filled all three of your holes with my cum before I let you have your orgasm.” He shows you his phone, he has set a 45 minute timer, “but that’s all the time we have right now.” 

DING! Challenge accepted. 

The doors open and there is a handsome man in a well cut business suit waiting for the elevator. He takes in the disheveled sight of you both and flashes Austin a knowing smile before stepping aside to let you out. 

“Hello,” you say and wink at him as you walk by, leading Austin by the hand to your door.

He nods his head. Just before the doors close you hear, “Have fun.”  

“Oh we will’ says your demon, loud. You hear a laugh behind the elevator door. 

Once you are inside the suite, you turn around to Austin, he pulls you in for a deep kiss. 

You are so horny, you can control neither the shaking of your hips, nor the moans that his kiss swallows. 

Then his hands are unzipping your dress, stopping to unhook your bra half way and pulling both off your shoulders to fall to the ground around your now bare feet. His clothes soon follow. 

“Spread your legs,” he says, one finger gliding along the inside of your waistband, his other hand  pressing your back to the wall. Slowly, he pulls your sodden panties gently away from your vulva, “Good lord Kitten, I’ve never seen you this sopping wet before you’ve cum.”

He undoes the magnet and fishes the vibe out from between your lips. His fingers brushing against your inner lips and your clit make you whimper and scoop your pelvis towards him in a silent appeal for more. He brings the wet toy up to his mouth trailing a long line of juices from its tip,  and licks it off. Wrapping his tongue around it and teasing you, he knows you would rather he drink straight from the source. 

He places the vibe on the entry table, then strips off your panties, leaving the drenched unicorns on the pile of clothes. 

You can’t stand being this close, naked, and not have him buried inside you. You pull his head down to kiss him while pushing him backwards across the room. His hands are on your backside, kneading your ass. 

He sits down when he hits the bed. You don’t stop pushing him, crawling on top of him as he scoots to the middle and lays down. 

“Turn around, I want you to watch,” he indicates the wall across from the bed that is all mirrors. You turn around, straddling his hips as he holds his hard cock upright.  

“Oh yes, this, this is what I fucking need!” you moan as you slide down on him. After so much buzzing all day, the sensation of being filled feels incredible. 

You rock back and forth on him, grinding him deep into you, moaning. You lift up as far as your bent legs will let you, watching him slide out of you. He grabs your arms, pulling them to your low back. He holds them there, pushing to support your back. 

“Watch as I fuck you,” he commands. 

In the mirror, you see yourself arched back, your tits  pressed forward. He starts with slow strokes, flexing his glutes.  It is blissfully agonizing to watch him slide in and out of you as he thrusts his hips up, knowing you won’t have release from it. 

It is erotic to watch.  You see now why people video themselves fucking. You wish there was a camera set up now. 

 He speeds up. Your breath comes faster. Your head falls back. It feels so good. 

“No, watch,” he tilts your head forward. 

He starts pounding you hard, knees bent, using his feet for leverage. You start to squeal as you feel an orgasm building, building. Your demon considers not telling him and just cumming. But no, that’s not the fun of this game,  you tell her.  

“Oh fuck Austin, I’m gonna cum,” you declare as your demon rattles her chain.

He pulls out as you rise up and pitch forward between his legs, ass in the air.  Breathing to try to regain some control. You really want to play this game, but you are not sure how much more you can take. 

“Oh Kitten, that’s gorgeous,”  he says after a minute or two. You feel fingers petting you from behind, running on either side of your labia, then applying pressure so your lips swell outwards. Then another finger is stroking those puffed lips. You moan and squirm into his touch. You can feel his other hand moving on his cock, rubbing the tip in your wet folds.

 Reaching through your legs, you grasp him, still wet with your juices. You slide your hand up and down. 

He pushes that finger inside your exposed slit, pressing down.

“Oh god yes,” you moan as he slides across your g-spot. Your hand grips his dick tighter. 

“Let’s see how much you can take before you make me stop,” he says, slipping another finger in and starting to move across that toe curling site. As he speeds up, making sloppy, squashy sounds. You feel flecks of moisture spattering his cock. Jesus, it's amazing. 

“Careful,” he taps your hand on his cock. Realizing you were gripping rather tight, you let go of his dick.

You start rocking back and forth on his fingers, moaning into the covers. “Oh, Oh, OH!” each time you impale yourself. 

He rubs his thumb  side to side on your clit, you squeal “FUCK!” and pull away from him shaking. 

“That was fucking close,” you blow out, trying not to clench your pussy. 

“Come up here baby and turn around,” he says, hands coaxing your hips back towards him. You turn around, straddling him, his cock jutting out between your legs. 

“Austin, if you fuck me right now, I am going to cum,” you say seriously. 

“Alright,” he reaches for the lube on the bedside table, “then stroke me.”

 He drizzles a little lube on his tip. With him in your hand, it looks like it’s your own cock you are  about to jerk off. It’s fucking hot. 

“When I’m close, I am going to fuck that pussy, I want it full before we leave again,” he puts his hands behind his head so he can watch you. God you love when he talks dirty like that. 

“Tell me how you like it,” you say, starting with simple up and down caresses in a light fist. Maybe focusing on him for a while will help you calm down.  

‘Unlikely,’ whispers your demon, ‘ just look at him.’ SHHHH!

“A little tighter,” he says. You comply.  “Uh huh, like that.”

After a dozen or so strokes, you slide your hand up and over his tip and down between your first and middle finger. His stomach contracts a little, his abs popping out then relaxing back. 

“Oh lord, that, do that,” he moans. You sprinkle ‘that’  in between the long strokes on his shaft.

“Faster now,” he instructs, licking his lips and curling back up to watch you jerk him off. 

Your pace increases.  You steady him with your other hand at the base and add in a little twist toward the tip. His front teeth are savage against his full bottom lip. Holy fuck he looks hot, your juices threaten to drip onto his balls. 

“I need a little more lube,” he says.

 You stop and let a long drip of saliva fall into your hand. 

“Oh fuck, that was hot, babe,” his voice is a whispered staccato.

The level of his arousal and your current control of it, is intoxicating. 

‘You are on top here,’ your succubus tells you, ‘ you are in control of his orgasm, he is your quarry.’ Your eyes narrow and the corner of your mouth curls up in a demonic smile.

After a couple minutes you can feel him getting close. To the delight of your succubus, you stop. Taking your hands off him, his cock bounces, red and swollen, against his stomach.  

 His face is a mix of confusion, concern, and betrayal. 

Your demon suddenly wishes he was tied up so you could really fuck with him. Visions of  bringing him to the edge over and over again while he is bound and helpless flash in your mind’s eye.  Then watching as the slightest touch spurts his cum onto… 

He reaches for himself, you lean forward and clamp down on his wrists. Hovering over him on all fours, you tease him with your pussy, rolling your hips back and forth, spreading his cock with your juices. Damn it feels good to be on top.

“Beg me,” you say with your wicked grin, “beg me to make you cum.”  You see him weighing his options. He pushes against your grip a little, you are stronger than he realized. Yeah, he can overpower you if he wants, especially with lube on your hands. But what fun is that? 

“Please,” his voice is strained, “please make me cum inside you.” 

You lean down to his ear and whisper, “that’s a good boy,” and lightly lick his earlobe. 

You let go of his wrists and sit back, pulling his throbbing dick up between your legs. Licking between your thumb and forefinger then wrapping them in a ring around his head you slip up and down rubbing his sensitive ridge and frenulum.  The first three fingers  and thumb on your other hand are below, gliding on either side of his shaft, hands working in concert.

His eyes go huge, pupils dark with desire. His mouth hangs open in an exhale.

You speed up as his breath huffs from him and his abs flex tight. His hands are gripping your knees, ready in case you let him go again. His eyelids flicker  over his rolled back eyes, his head droops back. 

You slow down.

His head snaps up.

“I’m so close, please,” he says through gritted teeth, “please don’t stop.”  You rise up and sink him into your pussy.

“Omigod you are so hot inside,” his body shakes under you.

His hands grip your hips like steel, pulling you down onto him as he furiously plunges in and out of you. You want to clamp down on him, but it feels too good and you know it’ll make you cum. You are miraculously still willing to play the game now that you got a little control back. 

“That’s it, cum for me baby, fill me with it,” you urge him on, your voice pitching higher as pleasure winds tight inside you.

He thrusts half a dozen more times into you. Each thrust  pushes you farther to the edge, making you bite your lip and moan. Each thrust punctuated by a syllable “So. Fu-cking. Good. Kit-ten.”  The last is followed by a deep thrust hard into you. Growling out a prolonged ‘nnnnn uggghhh’ as his abs pull him up towards you. He is shaking  and gritting his teeth as he shoots his load into you.

He collapses back on the bed, sweat popping up on his brow, chest heaving. 

“Well, that was fun,” you say after he gets a few big breaths in. You feel him clench and his cock bounces against your g-spot, making you  shiver on top of him.  His lip curls into a smile. 

You pull off of him, cum still inside you and lay down next to him, head on his sweaty chest. Your demon settles down now that she got a little authority back. 

He puts his arms around you, holding you tight against him and sighs. “Thanks babe, I’ve hit the jackpot of girlfrien…zzz.” Then he is snoring.  Boys. 

Wait, did he just call you his girlfriend? I mean… fuck what does that mean? Was it a post-coitus  Freudian Slip? Is that a thing?  Did he mean it?

‘ Okay, well, you kind of are, in like everything but title,’ your demon chimes in. 

Huh? 

‘ Well duh, you feed him, you fuck him, you put him to bed…. You fuck him more, he fucks you more… over and over…. Mmmm, yummy. He takes you on a romantic weekend getaway. He buys you expensive dresses ."

 She is making too much sense, despite the lecherous interludes. 

Ok just ONE dress! And he actually says ‘I love you’… and you love him. His favorite picture of you is of you laughing like a loon.  You start to smile. 

 ‘Yup,’ your demon says, ’ See, girlfriend.’

 Shit. 

But is it though? Is it shit? Are you not the happiest you’ve ever been in your whole life? Does he not make you giddy when he walks into the room? 

‘Does he not check all your sex boxes and then some?’ you can almost see the light glint off her horns. Randy little imp. 

You have to admit that listening to his heart beat in this moment, curled up against his chest feels like the very thing you have been steering blindly towards your whole life. Maybe it’s time to take off the fucking blinders. Scary. 

‘What are you so afraid of?’

The future

‘There is only one way to get out of the future, and we already faced that shit. Next!’

 Of being hurt. Of hurting him. 

‘Ppffft, you know that’s just a risk of love and part of being human. You are stronger than that.’

I’m afraid of being too tied down to accomplish all I want to do.

‘Fear is the mind killer.’ Dammit, no fair bringing DUNE into this! 

‘Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration’ .  

You take a big breath in and blow it out.  FUCK. She is right, little bitch. 

“I will face my fear,” you whisper into his pectoral muscles. He stirs and holds you closer. 

Wow, that is the most help your inner demon has ever been. Who knew she was more than just a sex fiend. 

‘Layers baby, I got layers’

You fucking love her. 

Your mini anxiety attack abated, you decide to jump in the shower and use the enema bottle you brought to get good and clean. After all, you know what’s coming. 

When you get out, you hear his alarm going off in his pants in the pile of clothes. 

“Hey hunny, it’s time to get ready to go,” you pat his chest on your way to turn off the alarm. 

“Hey baby,” he stretches, ”you back?” 

“Huh?” you say, confused.

“Well that demon was here fucking me and she is something to contend with,” he smiles at you.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. She likes to play, especially with you.” 

[fourseasonsfigs]

Mid-Autumn, Snow Mountain Edition

Now for something a little different!

This fig set / diorama is actually an individually made to order piece. There's a fan artist on Xianyu that designs and creates Word of Honor / Junzhe figures for purchase. The artist will also take commissions, but I haven't done that yet (although I definitely have some figures in mind!).

The small diorama is made out of painted wood, and the figures out of sculpting clay. The moon is a little working light that adds a bit of extra delight to the scene!

The little scene is actually quite small. The outer dimensions of the frame are 12cm x 12cm (4.7 inches to me and my fellow Americans). I put the box next to the original official Tofu figs for size comparisons. Tiny and cute!

Here we have A-Xu, as light as air (or willow catkins), floating along in a tranquil snowy mountain evening. You can tell this is a CP (couples fan) artist because in his hand he has an egg, a representation of a CP fan, dressed in mid-summer bunny ears. We also have white-haired Lao Wen, holding a tangerine, also a symbol for a CP fan. Another tangerine sits on the snow, happily looking on. It's just about as cute as cute can be. You can see how it caught my attention on the Xianyu feed!

I'm going to do a few larger angles of the whole piece first, and then zoom in for some individual closeups.

The whole piece is quite sturdy. I was really worried that pieces would break in shipping (that ribbon seemed especially vulnerable), but it was well packed by the seller.

That plastic thing up there on the right is the battery light pack - we'll get around to a better view of it.

It's a little off-balance here because of the battery pack.

Speaking of, here it is. I had to have the battery taken out for international transport, so I need to find a replacement. As you can see, the back of the frame is very solidly nailed in, so I can't, say, shine a tea light in the back and expect it to come through to the moon.

When I locate a little battery, I'll come back and update this post!

In the meantime, we'll move on to the extreme closeups of these cute little figs.

We'll start with A-Xu first, since he's the shixiong here. A-Xu's floating ribbon scarf, much like A-Xu himself, is a thing of beauty - delicate and graceful. It's one of my favorite things about this piece.

I'm going to try to get all angles I can here - bear with me!

The detail is just wonderful. Keep in mind how tiny this is! It's really extraordinary. Also, the little egg in the bunny costume is super cute. I love animal costumes of any kind!

Aww, look at his little feet! I love the layers of his robes and of course the pants and boots. This is also a great view to see the scarf / ribbon.

Alright, on to the Lao Wen closeups! It's all you, shidi.

Look at the expression on his face. I love him! The snow mountain costume looks fantastic, and the little juzipi looks about as happy as can be.

A full on view of those super adorable faces! The artist did such a wonderful job with this.

It only takes the artist less than a week to make one of these. Amazing. I would still be working on the (first) juzi, if it was me.

A photo kind of wedged in between A-Xu's ribbon scarf and the mid-autumn moon. The figures feel solidly set in the frame - I don't worry they are going to budge or fall out at all.

This is such a funny, immensely foreshortened view! All we see is chipmunk cheeks!

There was no way I was going to forget the mid-summer tangerine CP fan! Us JZP have to stick together. I gave this little jiemei a wink myself when I saw her 😉

No box or box cards here, since this was individually hand crafted.

After this little item arrived in my warehouse and I saw how wonderful it was, I bought a number of the artist's other items. I'm really looking forward to making posts of those when they arrive at my door!

Material: Sculpting clay (figures) and wood (frame)

Fig Count: 234

Scene Count: 24

Rating: 😉🍊

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[quincyhorst]

Inazuma Eleven Whiteboard but make it Red Matador - Part 2

Hello! Very glad the previous post was well received! There's still other doodles to archive/share here, so here it goes. I'm posting the day after since I wanted to take a little break... So much happened yesterday 😭

As always, this is a public ina11 whiteboard hosted by @ marmolao (Who turns out was the one I've been drawing RM stuff all this time with, YAY), I joined in just to draw Pedro and Igor, ended up doodling almost everyone there LOL. But it was a fun excuse to share HCs a different way, so... Let's continue from where we left.

Remember the last Rafa doodle? Well, I decided to comfort him by sharing a HC of mine with the other Andalusia boys from my setting. However by doing so I accidentally made Marmo create a new ship, and... Honestly? Good for them. I always appreciate seeing any RM pairings anytime <3

Black Text: "In my headcanon Antonio is from Málaga (An Andalusian Province), so Rafa won't be alone :3"

Blue Text: "SO THEY'RE OFFICIALLY A COUPLE"

(#lovewins)

I also added Juan here.

"Juan is from Cordoba, but by other reasons he tends to mix up both Spain's spanish and latin spanish"

----

Another finding on the RM corner was this adorable doodle by an unknown artist, a furry doing the hissatsu Matador Feint :')

I thought it was adorable! But unfortunately, not everyone is happy seeing that one hissatsu on specific...

...Don't mind Fermín, he has legitimate reasons for hating Matador Feint with all his guts. Oh, and if anyone hasn't searched/heard the sound effect I mention... I'll do the magic for ya. It REALLY adds to the scene-

Finally, we come upon my favorite doodle so far: A little Rafael x Antonio moment made for Marmo, as to celebrate the new couple formed (?

I also added José out of pure self indulgence. I love the 2-3-4 dynamic 💖

Of course, due that the pen I used was too thin, you might not see the details properly. That's why I'm also adding some closeups here:

And here. JOSÉ STOPPPPPPPP!!!!

One last thing, but apparently the autism creature I drew earlier attracted some friends, including a shy one... Don't know who drew each one, but they're adorable! I'm glad this little one got new buddies too <3

(And heyyy, whoever wrote the yellow one, even if you cannot talk, I still appreciate your prescence nonetheless 💛)

Once again, thank you for anyone who has colaborated on drawing here! 💕 Unfortunately according to Marmo's words, the whiteboard is "closed" in the sense it might not be as frecuented as yesterday. It also will be deleted over at Sunday, so... Yeah, I don't think the goal of drawing all the players will be 100% possible...

Nonetheless, if anyone wants to make any last RM doodle for me to reply, please @ me once you draw it! Because I don't think I will be able to check much on this whiteboard either...😅

[skarletterambles]

Good idea: Re(-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re)-watching Twister before going to see Twisters tomorrow.

Bad idea: Watching when you're PMSing so you get tears in your eyes at Jo's dad getting sucked out of the storm cellar, and then feel bad when you see the late Bill Paxton and Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Whoopsie.

Twister is in a three-way tie with The Mummy and the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie as my favorite film of all time. I'm sure the new version won't measure up to the original but it looks like a hell of a fun ride and I'm pumped to see it. It's also only the second movie I've seen in a theater since Rise of Skywalker, a.k.a. pre-Covid. (The other was Inside Out 2, which wasn't that big a deal to me but a friend really wanted to see it when she was in town.)

Random thoughts and favorite quotes I typed up while watching...

"Not unless you want to sketch the tornadoes."

"You left her with Dusty? What's the matter with you?"

OMG that late '90s cellphone Melissa has...vintage! LOL! (The laptops and other tech are also fun to see, even if they make me feel old. It was cutting edge then!)

THE SUCK ZONE!!!!!

Dusty's obviously the most fun, but all these storm chasers have so much personality, just from their faces, their road soundtracks, and the few quirks we learn about them. I always wanted to read (or write?) a book that went into their backstories.

The first time I saw this I thought Dorothy was Bill and Jo's daughter, the way they talked about her. "She's here?!" / "Let me take a look at her!"

"I find this kinda interesting. I'm gonna tag along!" Famous last words, Melissa...

"He's in it for the money, not the science." insert bothisgood.gif meme here.

Both Jonas and Melissa have southern accents. Not sure if there's any deeper meaning there. He is a straight-up villain, and she is set up as an antagonist but you just can't hate her because she's actually sweet despite being so far out of her element, and ultimately she bows out of the love triangle with dignity and grace.

GREENAGE!!!!!

"She's a therapist." [long pause] "Yours?"

"Can I drive?" "No." "Then would you?"

High five to the writer(s) who came up with this banter.

"I was just wondering if we were gonna chase this tornado or wait for the next one."

The awed heavenly chorus that takes over the soundtrack when the tornado comes into view is so cheesy but I love it so much. The lion growls it makes are absurd but I can't hate them.

"Where's my truck?" *truck comes out of nowhere to crash in the middle of the road* The comedic timing is so good in this.

Dusty and Melissa should get together. He's infatuated by her ability to almost get crushed by a flying truck, and she needs a rebound after Bill. *insert inappropriate jokes about the Suck Zone*

"Why don't you find your own twister, buddy?" LOL

Every time I see a cow in this movie I grin. We all know why.

The storm chasers I've followed online almost never pre-rate tornados. You don't say it's a F2 or F3 while it's on the ground--especially when it's just churning up fields and not causing any damage that could be used to determine a rating.

OMG the music is so damn epic throughout this sequence.

"I GOTTA GO, JULIA! WE GOT COWS!" "ANOTHER COW!" "ACTUALLY I THINK IT WAS THE SAME ONE!"

"When you used to tell me you chased tornados, deep down I always just thought it was a metaphor!"

Ah, the windchimes. You'd never think such a gentle, whimsical sound could be so ominous...

Aunt Meg always reminded me of one of my aunts, physically at least. R.I.P. Aunt P.

WHAT A MINUTE! What kind of personal Mandela effect B.S. is this? I've always remembered it that Jo left her necklace on in the shower, and thought it was SO cool for some inexplicable reason. But she didn't! My entire life is a lie.

"A[n F]4 will relocate your house pretty efficiently."

FINGER OF GOD!!!

Yes, do a nice closeup of the water tower with "WAKITA" on it so the audience remembers the name when it comes up later...

Of course Bill can sense when and where the tornadoes are. He can just follow the dramatic music cues!

"It's like Bob's Road..." I wonder what Rabbit, a.k.a. Map Guy, would think about modern GPS. At least Google Maps doesn't have a crease through Wichita.

See? Melissa is riding in Dusty's car now. OTP! (I've seen crack ships founded on far less.)

That is pretty wimpy hail. Reed Timmer would be unimpressed. It's not a storm chase until you break a windshield or two.

"DEBRIS! WE HAVE DEBRIS!"

Power flashes are a thing. A massive fireball lighting up the funnel, not so much (except for that one time...) Growling like a lion, also not a thing. I love it all anyway, because of and despite the ridiculousness.

"You've never seen it miss this house, and miss that house, and come after you." I think about that line so often when viewing tornado damage. They can be so capricious and seemingly random.

Aww, now Dusty is holding the umbrella over Melissa as she's heartbroken over Bill. I started shipping this as a joke, damn it...

And we get to the drive-in. One iconic scene after the other. I know some screenings were held in drive-ins for the lulz. I wish I could have attended one.

The TV signal dying is one more mundane thing that becomes unspeakably ominous in this movie.

"It's headed right for us!" "It's already here." Cheesier than a Packers game, but still gives me chills.

I always thought it was nice how Jo took the time to warn the girls in the concessions stand.

You know it's a bad situation when the people who cheerfully seek out twisters are cowering in terror.

Cue the creepy windchimes.

"It looks to hit Wakita head-on." That being the first serious line of dialogue Dusty has uttered in the entire movie gives it so much more impact.

The sudden tone change meant I really wasn't sure if Meg was going to survive the first time I saw this. The jokes and goofiness evaporated at the drive-in and by the time they get to Wakita it really does feel like anything can happen.

"How nice you all came over." Meg is a cinnamon roll, too pure for this world.

"I'm going to drive myself." "Honey, your car's in a tree around the corner."

Meg's okay, the dog survived, and the jokes are back!

The weather service doesn't "predict an F5" as blatantly as they do in the movie, but I can forgive them for dramatic license.

Back to the epic traveling music! (And Pepsi product placement.)

I don't think I ever noticed that Meg's dog came with them! Aww.

"Unless you think somebody will hit it." ("It" being Dorothy in the middle of the road in the path of a massive F5.) "Nobody'll be there." Again, it's cheesy, but I don't care. I still get chills.

Somebody was like, "We haven't had enough fiery explosions in the this movie. Fix that."

I love how we've almost forgotten about Jonas by the time the drive-in and Wakita scenes are over, and then suddenly he's back in all his smarmy glory...just in time to die in spectacular fashion.

"DEBRIS! DUSTY, WE HAVE DEBRIS!" *entire tractors start raining from the sky* " 'Debris' ?!?!"

The random teddy bear squeaking as it hits the windshield is way funnier than it probably should be.

Cue that epic music again. Love it. Duh duhduh DUHDUH DUH DUH!

Suddenly the wind chime sound becomes a good thing!

Seeing the tornado rip up corn stalks reminds me of how the recent Greenfield, Iowa, tornado actually planted corn in the town that has since sprouted all over the place.

Wicked-looking scythes and blades clanking all over the barn, and Jo says, "OMG who are these people?" That's funny enough in the moment but later you see the perfectly normal, wholesome looking family who lives there and you wonder if they're secretly serial killers...

We just saw this tornado pulverize a huge barn, but this tiny shed will protect us! (I know, I know, it's the plumbing, but it's still funny before you learn that.)

The lack of impalement and clothes getting ripped off in the wind does stretch willing suspension of disbelief, but...eh, so what? It's cool.

The woman in the checkered pink shirt who comes out of the storm shelter with the kids looks a LOT like one of my friends from grade school. Or how I'd imagine she would look as an adult. I last saw her at 5th grade graduation.

"Mommy, why are there people tied to the pipes where the shed used to be and why are they making out?" "Shut up, Timmy." "And why aren't they impaled by a bunch of corn stalks and wood planks?" "I said shut up, Timmy." "And who are all those other weirdos?" "If you don't shut up I won't let you into the storm shelter the next time a tornado happens. Now go play with a rusty scythe like a good little boy."

This has been another episode of "Katie Rewatches a Favorite Movie and Types Random Stream of Consciousness Crap Onto her Blog."

[frenchifries]

this one scared me awake straight into a sleep paralysis episode lol

sometimes i get these dreams that play out exactly like lost media creepypastas you'd hear people insisting they saw on some weird VHS they had as a kid but can't find any information about and when they try to talk about it to other people no one knows what they're talking about.

so this one was presented very much like a sort of 'storybook' video, with still images set to narration. the backgrounds looked like watercolor paintings and the characters looked like paper cutouts drawn in a cartoony but overly-detailed style, like the creepy closeup shots you'd see in shows like courage the cowardly dog. the people had small bodies and stubby limbs and bug-eyed blank expressions—very grotesque, somewhat in the vein of jhonen vasqeuz's art style.

it was about this little girl whose parents hated her; she was referred to as "the neglected girl" and the narrator talked about how her parents were happy and she was not. she was always alone and nobody loved her and basically nothing good or interesting happened in her life. then she grew up and met a man and they had two kids together, a boy and a girl. the man loved his kids but he didn't love the woman, but they got married anyway. after they got married, they had a third child, who the man also didn't love, who in turn became the next "neglected girl."

the main thing i remember is that it ended with a shot of everyone sitting on a big bed while the narrator said "and so the man was happy, and the woman was not. there was the oldest son... the favorite daughter... and the neglected girl." and as they're listed off their images appear on the bed one by one; i especially remember the woman sitting and staring into the distance with the most haunted expression on her face, and the "neglected girl" in the back corner of the bed appearing only as a smeary silhouette, sort of twitching and writhing.

and then the narrator says, "but some say, her real name is—" and in that moment, where i was really focused on this twitching silhouette, she leaps forward and jumpscares me, filling my vision with black and an unsettling noise, which of course scared me awake, but not all the way awake, because i was stuck in a sleep paralysis state and could only stare at the shadows in the corner of my room. i started calling for help and, in my half-dreaming hallucinatory state, thought my mom was standing in the corner, with the lights from my AC as the reflection off her glasses, and that she was like, intentionally ignoring me.

i kept yelling for help and eventually my dad came and helped me wake the rest of the way up. this was at like 5 in the morning i guess. i was scared to go back to sleep because i was worried i would have another episode, but thankfully it was all fine. the worst part is never knowing when they're going to happen—they're usually spaced pretty far apart, but having one is also no guarantee that i won't have another soon. it especially makes me worry for times i'll be home by myself overnight, because if nobody comes and wakes me the rest of the way up and helps me start moving my body again, there's no telling how long i'd be stuck like that...

[hyogonokitsune]

longing -- suna rintarou x reader

college!au, tw alcohol use, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of angst, some smut at the end because I can’t fucking help myself 🥴 (oral -- m and f receiving, choking, creampie, cockwarming hnnff)

11,600 words

--

“Hey, ‘Samu, I gotta go lie down.” You had to practically yell to hear yourself over the music blaring from the speakers. Osamu was less than two feet from you, but you might as well have been yelling from a mile away.

“Huh?”

“I said I gotta go—fuck! Where’s your room?” You had to speak directly into his ear to make yourself understood; Osamu leaned in close to respond to you.

You hadn’t had that much to drink, but the atmosphere of the party was wearing you down. The insanely loud music and the crush of so many sweaty bodies were starting to give you a headache, and you were in desperate need of a quiet place to recharge. Most of the people were crowded into the living areas of the house, so you decided to escape to your friend’s upstairs bedroom to catch your breath.

You shut his door behind you, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs, and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes. Even here, you could feel the bass pounding in your head.

The door opened then, but when you lifted your head to look, it wasn’t Osamu standing in the room. You groaned; you definitely were not in the mood to deal with a random guy.

“Can I help you?” you asked in a hard voice, sitting up to look at him better.

“Can I help you?” he replied, utterly deadpan. He walked over to the desk in the corner and plugged his phone into a charger, his back facing you. “You’re in my room.”

“What? This is Osamu’s room.”

“’Samu’s room is the last door on the left. This is the last one on the right.” He turned around to look at you, his expression indifferent.

Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, quickly hopping off his bed. “I’m so sorry! I must have misheard him. I just needed to get away from there,” you explained, gesturing towards the door.

He smirked at you. “Too much to drink?”

“No, there are just too many people down there, felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

His expression softened at your words. “Yeah, that’s why I came up here, too.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” you said, moving towards the door.

“You’re Osamu and Atsumu’s friend, right?” he said, stopping you. “They said one of their old friends was gonna come over tonight.”

Your hand dropped from the doorknob as you nodded, telling him your name.

“I’m Suna,” he said.

“Oh! You went to high school with them, right? They’ve told me about you.”

“Nothing good, I bet,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.

“Almost all good things,” you responded truthfully.

“’Almost’”, he repeated, a low laugh escaping him. Suna watched you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about something. “You can hang out here, if you want,” he said, motioning for you to sit back on the bed as he pulled out his desk chair. “As long as you don’t puke on anything.”

“I told you, I didn’t drink that much!” you huffed, but you sat down all the same. You had wanted to get away from all the noisy people downstairs, but this guy seemed laidback enough that he wouldn’t make your headache worse; besides, you were interested in talking to someone who had known the twins in high school.

Suna put on a playlist from his phone, setting the volume just loud enough to block out the house music blasting from downstairs. “You’ve known them a while, yeah?”

You nodded. “Since we were kids, but I didn’t go to Inarizaki with them.”

“Good call.”

“They’re not that bad!” you laughed. “Don’t tell them this, but I actually missed seeing them every day, so it’s nice that we ended up going to the same university.”

“Maybe I will tell them that, then they’ll spend more time harassing you instead of me.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You both laughed then, before falling into an easy silence. You shifted to get more comfortable on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you.

“Do you not like parties?” you asked.

“They’re alright,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not too crazy about having ten thousand strangers in my house, though.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah, what’s fun about having random drunk people sweating all over you? I’d rather just hang out with a few friends, ya know?”

He snorted. “Hopefully it’ll be more like that in the future, but Atsumu really wanted to throw a big party for the start of the semester.”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “He just wanted to introduce himself to as many girls as possible.”

“Yeah, that was his not-so-secret motive.”

There was another pause. Suna scrolled through his phone, searching for something.

“You wanna see some embarrassing photos of the twins?”

“Yes, absolutely I do.”

He grinned, unplugging his phone to come sit next to you on the bed. He leaned in close, tilting his screen so you could see it. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, trying to suppress a smile as he showed you a picture of Osamu lying face down on the ground. “He tripped when we were jogging, completely ate shit.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, especially with Atsumu in the foreground holding up a peace sign over his brother’s body.

Most of the photos were of the two of them fighting; having grown up with the twins, it was a little comforting to see that they acted the same around their new friends as they always had with you. You felt somewhat nostalgic at the thought.

Suna paused on a closeup photo of Atsumu, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to swat the camera away. “Ah, this was after he got rejected by a girl and he swore he wasn’t crying.”

“Oh my god, I totally remember that day!” you said, laughing hard. “’Samu called me, begging me to talk some sense into ’Tsumu because he kept whining about being turned down.”

“Seriously? God, knowing that makes this so much better,” Suna said, a crooked grin on his face.

“Please don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He showed you nearly three years’ worth of pictures, pausing at the memorable ones to tell you the stories behind them. It was easy talking to him; you felt able to laugh naturally and relax around him despite being strangers, something that you weren’t able to do with most people you just met.

You didn’t realize how long you and Suna had been talking until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; seeing that it was a call from Osamu, you answered it.

“Y/n, did you leave?”

You were surprised by the panicky note in his voice. “No, I told you I was going upstairs.”

“Yeah? Well where the fuck are ya, ’cause I’m standing in my room and you’re not in here.”

“I’m in Suna’s room—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you heard footsteps stomp across the hall and the door flew open.

“What the hell are ya doing in here?” Osamu asked, still holding his phone up to his cheek.

“We’re fucking, obviously,” Suna deadpanned. You giggled, but Osamu didn’t look amused.

“I got the rooms mixed up, ’Samu,” you explained, getting up off the bed. “Suna’s just been telling me about your time in high school.”

“Oh, great,” Osamu said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s late, you want me to walk ya back to your dorm?”

“Can you even walk, or are you too drunk?”

“It’s Atsumu you should be worried about. He fell asleep on the couch downstairs.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you laughed. You made your way over to Osamu, turning at the door to address Suna. “It was nice talking to you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He was scrolling through his phone again, only giving you a brief disinterested glance. “Yeah, see you.”

 --

 You poked your head into Osamu’s room, only to find that it was empty. It was a little disappointing; you had been hoping to hang out with him for a bit, since you hadn’t had time to see much of him that week, but if he wasn’t around there was nothing to be done about it. The book you had borrowed from him a few weeks ago was already in your hand, so you placed it on his desk and turned to leave.

Stepping back into the hallway, you noticed that the door across from Osamu’s was open. You casually glanced inside as you walked past, catching Suna’s eye from where he sat in front of his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he parroted as he took his headphones off his ears.

“I came by to return a book that Osamu lent me, but I guess he’s not around.”

“I think he’s meeting with a professor.”

“Ah.” You fell silent, and Suna turned his attention back to his laptop. “What are you reading?” you asked.

He looked up again, his expression a little sheepish. “You’re gonna think it’s boring.”

“Try me.”

He sighed. “It’s an article analyzing the influence of Shakespeare’s histories on English nationalism.”

Your face brightened as you spoke. “That was published last week, right? I bookmarked that so I could read it when I got the chance.”

Suna looked surprised at your response, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s pretty interesting so far.”

“I have to say, though, you didn’t strike me as the type to be into that kind of stuff,” you said, just a hint of a teasing tone in your voice.

His expression was blank again as he responded, “Well, I am a literature major.”

“So am I!” you said, smiling at him as you walked into his room and leaned against his desk. “I don’t think we have any classes together, though.”

“It’s a big school.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You paused, thinking of a way to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”

Suna glanced up at the ceiling, bottom lip rolling between his teeth as he thought. “I guess I’d say Hamlet. There’s just so much shit going on.”

“Ah, so you love the drama of it all,” you laughed. “I think it’s a tie between Hamlet and Macbeth for me. The twist at the end is just—” you cut yourself off to do a chef��s kiss, prompting Suna to laugh a little.

“‘Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped��, such a raw line.”

“Yes, exactly!” You were beaming at him, happy to learn that you shared a common interest. Over the course of the last few weeks since you first met Suna, you hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him, despite him being your best friends’ roommate. He usually kept to himself, and on the few occasions when he joined you and the twins to play video games or get dinner together, he didn’t talk much. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, and as you remembered this, you felt a small pang of guilt for disturbing him.

“Well, I’ll let you finish that article,” you said, getting off his desk and making for the door.

His voice stopped you before you could leave. “You can hang out here until Osamu gets back, if you want.” You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he said. “I can finish this whenever.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a rare invitation coming from him. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.

“Have you ever seen ‘Scotland, PA’?” you asked.

“Nope.”

“It’s an adaptation of Macbeth that takes place in a fast food restaurant.”

“Yeah?” he snorted, a grin appearing on his face. “You wanna watch it?” Before you could answer, he was unplugging his headphones and bringing his laptop over to you.

“Sure, if you want to,” you told him, feeling like you were really lucking out.

Suna sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, patting the spot at his side as he started searching for the movie. You sat down next to him, careful to leave a space between you.

When you watched movies with Atsumu and Osamu, their incessant talking usually got on your nerves pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind listening to Suna’s comments. Watching the film together seemed to make any lingering awkwardness between you two disappear, and before long you were laughing and leaning into each other.

“Oh, I hate this part!” you groaned when you reached a certain scene, turning to press your face into Suna’s shoulder.

“Jesus, that’s fucked up,” he chuckled, grimacing as Duncan’s character fell face-first into a deep fryer.  

“Then why are you laughing!” you said, lifting your head, but you couldn’t keep your own laughter from bubbling up in your chest. Suna gave you a crooked grin, your reaction only making him laugh harder.

“Oi, Sunarin! You got a girl in there or something?” Osamu’s voice floated in through the open door, his head appearing a moment later. His eyes widened when he spotted you. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Hello to you, too, ’Samu,” you said dryly. “I came here to return your book, but you were too busy to see me, I guess.”

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled, but he grinned at you all the same. “I’m starving, you wanna grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, later,” you said, turning to look at Suna. “There’s still a bit left in this movie, you wanna finish it now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a little surprised that you’d postpone hanging out with your friend to finish the movie with him.

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Osamu groaned, rolling his eyes at you, “guess I’ll go shower, then. But don’t take too long, I’m so fuckin’ hungry.”

 --

 “Maaaan, I can’t wait until this semester’s over,” Atsumu sighed. “I feel like it’s draggin’ by.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go home for break.”

The two of you were standing on a patch of grass outside the gym, passing a volleyball back and forth. It was chilly, your breath coming out in silvery puffs, but after spending most of your time inside studying for the past week, you had both wanted to get some fresh air.

“I just know I’m gonna fail my bio final.”

“You’ll be fine, ’Tsumu,” you chuckled as you bumped the ball back to him. “You’ve been studying more in the last few days than I’ve seen you do in your entire life.”

“Hey, I studied in high school!” he huffed, his face contorting in mock annoyance as he set the ball. “Just ask Suna!”

The mention of his roommate’s name made your stomach flutter, causing you to mess up the course of the ball.

Atsumu quickly stepped to the side to get under it, giving you a nice, high set in return. “Jeez, you’ve really let your skills slip, huh?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Shut up, piss head.” Your cheeks were already pink from the cold, but you felt them heating up.

“Why don’t you play anymore anyway? I’m pretty sure there’s a women’s club on campus.”

You shrugged as you responded. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m good enough to play for a college team.”

“Bullshit.”

You heaved a sigh. “Fine. I just think it’d be weird to play on a new team. I liked my old team, ya know? All my good memories are of them, I don’t think it would be fun to have to learn a whole new dynamic with new people. I’d feel like I was… I don’t know, like I was cheating on them or something.”

Atsumu looked at you like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “That’s still bullshit.”

“Well I don’t expect you to understand, you freak. You wouldn’t care who your teammates are, as long as you get to play volleyball.” You gave him a smile as you passed him the ball. “I still have fun playing with you and ’Samu, though.”

“You better. If that ever changed, I’d have to rethink this whole friendship.”

You both laughed, but a part of you wondered how serious he really was.

“Fuck, okay my fingers are actually starting to go numb. Can we go inside now?” you asked, shoving your bright red hands into your jacket pockets.

“Yeah, you wanna grab some dinner?”

“Definitely.”

The two of you set off for the campus dining hall, huddled close together for warmth. The sun was just beginning to set, making the bare trees cast long, spindly shadows on the path in front of you. You quickened your pace, shivering a little.

The dining hall was just beginning to fill up; you and Atsumu managed to grab a table near the back of the room before all the spots were taken. You wrapped your freezing hands around your bowl of soup, savoring the warmth. Atsumu wasted no time digging into his own meal.

“You might wanna wipe that rice off your face, ’Tsumu,” you told him in a low voice, “that girl over there is checking you out.”

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth full. His eyes glanced over to the direction where you were tilting your head. “Eh, whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. “You still hooking up with that girl from your stats class?”

“Yeah, I actually really like her,” he said, swallowing a massive bite of food. “She’s sweet, and funny. And she’s really good at—”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. “I really don’t wanna know.”

He smirked at you. “I was gonna say helping me study. Jeez, what were you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.

“What about you? You been seeing anyone?”

“You know damn well the only guys I hang out with are you and ’Samu.”

“And Suna,” he added. You took a big gulp of your soup so you wouldn’t have to say anything in response. He was right, though; lately you had been spending more time with Suna, even without the twins around. “I’m kinda surprised at Suna, actually,” Atsumu continued.

“What, that he’s hanging out with me?”

“No, that he’s not hanging out with any other girls.”

Your brow furrowed a little. You had assumed that Suna got around; he was handsome, after all, and he had that mysterious, reticent personality that most girls went crazy for.

“I mean, back in high school he was kinda known for just having a ton of hookups. I figured he’d keep that up in college. I don’t know, maybe he’s too busy now,” Atsumu mused.

You mulled it over in your head. It seemed to you like Suna had more free time now than he would have had in high school; almost every time you stopped by their house, he was either in his room reading or listening to music, or else playing games with the twins. You were pretty sure he could have fit in a hookup or two if he wanted.

“Maybe he just wants to focus on his classes,” you offered, but it didn’t sound realistic even as you said it.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, like he’s gonna trade pussy for his GPA.”

“Charming, ’Tsumu,” you sighed. “It’s not really any of our business what Suna gets up to, though.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little weird for him.” Atsumu’s arm stretched out to steal some food from your tray. “Maybe he’s met someone he really likes.”

His words made your stomach turn over, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

 --

 A few days into the spring semester, both Atsumu and Osamu came down with nasty colds. By the time the weekend rolled around, they were completely incapacitated, unable to do anything but huddle up together on the couch, sniffling sadly.

You had taken pity on your friends, so on Saturday night (after receiving several dramatic texts from Atsumu that he was dying), you decided to go over to their house to cook them dinner. The twins were curled up on the couch watching a movie, wrapped in thick blankets with used tissues scattered around the coffee table in front of them. From where you stood in the kitchen prepping ingredients, you had a clear view of them over the counter; the sight of them looking so sorry for themselves reminded you of all the times you had gone over their house to keep them company when they got sick as kids. You smiled to yourself, thinking of those fond memories.

“Y/n,” Atsumu whined from the living room, his blanket pulled up over the top of his head. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, baby. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him tighten the blanket around himself, a dopey grin on his face. “Y/n called me ‘baby’,” he said happily.

“Simp,” Osamu muttered under his breath.

Atsumu stuck a leg out from under his blanket to kick his brother. “Don’t be jealous, you scrub!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at them; their usual bickering sounded especially cute when their voices were so congested.

“Even when you’re sick you guys can’t shut up.” Suna had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sunarin! Are you finally gonna hang out with us?” Atsumu asked excitedly.

“Absolutely not. I don’t wanna catch whatever weird disease you guys have—”

“You make us sound so disgusting,” Osamu grumbled.

“I just came down to get food,” Suna continued, grabbing a Cup Noodle from the cupboard.

“Oh no you’re not,” you said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m making dinner for you guys.”

Suna’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he didn’t object. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, watching as you dried the vegetables.

“Suna, could you chop up the mushrooms for me?” you asked. “Oh, but wash your hands first, please!”

Without saying a word, he did as you asked. You could hear Atsumu snickering from the couch.

“Talk about a simp. Y/n actually got Sunarin to help out in the kitchen,” he said, smirking. Suna balled up the paper towel he was using to dry his hands and chucked it at Atsumu’s head.

“You’ve got snot dripping down your face, dude.”

“Shut up!” Atsumu cried, sniffling as he burrowed deeper into his blanket.

With Suna’s help, prepping the ingredients went twice as fast. You expected him to leave the kitchen once it was done, but to your surprise he stayed, leaning against the counter again to watch you as you cooked. Occasionally he asked you a question about what you were doing.

“The chicken takes a little longer to cook than the veggies, so I’m adding that to the broth first,” you explained. “The order you add things affects the flavor, too.”

“How many times have I offered to teach ya to cook, Sunarin?” Osamu called from the other room. “Guess ya only wanna learn when Y/n’s doin’ the teaching.”

Suna glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to what you were doing. “I didn’t really have to know how before.”

“It’s never too late to learn,” you reassured him.

“Nothin’ sexier than a man who knows how to cook!” Osamu yelled, grinning. Suna ignored him, but you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

When the food was nearly done, you asked Osamu to clear a space on the coffee table. With Suna’s help, you carried over the meal you had cooked together, setting down the steaming bowls of soup, rice, and vegetables in front of the twins.

“My nose is all stuffed up, but this still smells so good,” Atsumu said, eyes closed as he sniffed the air.

“Yeah, your cooking’s always the best, Y/n,” Osamu agreed as he reached out with both hands for a bowl of soup.

“Oh, I picked up your favorite tea on the way over here, too,” you said, going back to the kitchen.

“What?! You really are the best!” Atsumu wailed. You walked back into the living room, carrying two mugs in each hand. “What did we ever do to deserve you?”

“It’s a mystery to me,” you replied, but the smile on your face was gentle as you handed the twins their tea. You passed the third mug to Suna, and the look he gave you was nothing short of tender as you sat next to him on the floor. The sight of it made your heart pound in your chest.

When you had all finished eating, you and Suna carried the dishes back to the kitchen while the twins dozed on the couch. After packing up the leftovers, you started washing the dishes and cooking pots, with Suna drying and putting them away.

“Thanks for making dinner for us,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with you.

“Of course,” you said, offering him a smile. “I don’t mind doing it.”

“You must really like those two idiots, if you’re willing to do so much for them.”

You looked over the counter into the living room where the twins were passed out on the couch. Osamu was curled up on his side, his head leaning against the armrest and blanket tucked up tight around him; Atsumu had his head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he snored softly. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully made a feeling of warmth spread throughout your chest.

“I’ve known them since we were three,” you told Suna, gaze still pointed towards the twins. “They’re like brothers to me.” You paused for a moment, thinking, before turning your attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I think it’s normal to want to do things for the people you care about.”

You caught Suna’s eye as you looked up to pass him a freshly-washed plate. He was staring at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t quite name the expression on his face.  

 --

 It came as no surprise when, a few days after taking care of the twins, you came down with a bad cold of your own. You managed to suffer through your classes and had just returned to your room to sleep for the rest of the day when, less than five minutes after changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed, there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you called out, thinking it was one of the girls from your floor coming to check on you.

When Suna stepped into your room, you nearly fell in your haste to jump out of bed.

“Sorry, was I not supposed to come in?” he asked as you disentangled yourself from the blankets.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you told him. You grabbed a hoodie from your closet and quickly pulled it on over your tank top, attempting to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Oh,” was all he said. The two of you stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before you noticed the bag he was holding in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at it.

Suna blinked as if he had suddenly remembered why he was there. “The guys told me you weren’t feeling well,” he said, setting the bag down on your desk and pulling a container out of it, “so I thought I’d bring you some soup.” His voice got softer at the end, and you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks as he held it out to you.

He must have made it and immediately brought it over to your dorm, because the container was still hot to the touch. You struggled to keep your lower lip from shaking at the sheer thoughtfulness of it. “That’s really sweet, Suna. Thank you.”

“It’s probably not nearly as good as yours, but…” his voice trailed off. He scratched at the back of his head, the blush deepening on his face. “I tried to do what you showed me the other night.”

“Do you wanna have some with me?” you asked, but you were already taking down two bowls from the shelf above your desk and pouring out a serving for each of you, before putting the rest in your mini fridge. You ate a spoonful, eyes closing as you savored the taste. “Mmm, this is really good, Sunarin!” you smiled at him.

“It’s not bad,” he said, grinning a little bit.

“It’s really good for your first try!” you pressed on. “You know, if you want more practice, you can cook for me anytime.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’d be a pretty sweet deal for you. But what would I get out of it?”

“Duh, you’d get to spend more time with me.”

“Oh, then pass.”

“Suna!” You pretended to pout, earning a genuine laugh from him. It felt good to joke around with him again, after not being in contact with him at all over the winter break.  

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” he asked when you had finished eating, setting his empty bowl on your desk. “Or were you just planning on sleeping for the rest of the day?”

You were a little taken aback at his question, since he had gone out of his way to avoid Atsumu and Osamu when they were sick. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch whatever I have?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If I was gonna catch it, I would have caught it from Thing 1 and Thing 2 already.” His expression faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“No, I do!” you said, a little too quickly in your eagerness to not let this chance slip through your fingers. “I just don’t want to get you sick, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine.” Suna rolled his eyes, smiling. “You wanna watch a movie? I’ll let you choose, since you’re sick.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” you teased as you carried your laptop over to your bed. You sat down, propped up against the pillows, and shifted to the side so Suna could sit next to you. “Can we watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’?”

“Sure.”

“I feel like you’d kin Miranda Priestly.”

“I will leave this room, right now,” he threatened, beginning to stand up.

“No, no! I was only joking!” you laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. He rubbed at his face, but you could see his slight smile hidden behind his hand.

The movie was almost over before Suna realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. When he first felt your head lean against him, the pounding of his heart had prevented him from daring to look at your face, but after several of his comments had gone ignored, he finally peered down at you, surprised to see your eyes closed. When the credits rolled, he had intended to get up and let you rest, but when he tried to move, your body shifted to turn towards him, an arm reaching out to wrap around his torso.

“Rin,” you murmured in your sleep, and the sound of your voice saying his name caused all of his resolve to disappear.

With you sleeping so peacefully, your warm body pressed up against his, Suna couldn’t bring himself to risk accidentally waking you up. The sun had already set, making your room dark and cozy, and so he figured he could wait there for a little bit until you woke up from your nap. Lifting one of his arms to put it around your shoulders, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the window. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His movements prompted you to wake up, your gaze slowly focusing to find yourself leaning on his chest like a pillow.

“Guess we were both more tired than we thought,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Mmph,” you mumbled, noticing a damp spot on his shirt from where you had drooled on him. God, how embarrassing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, shifting to look down at you.

“A little better,” you said. Sitting up properly, you rubbed at your face, attempting to hide your blush from him. “Sorry that I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling a little before his face shifted into a more teasing expression. “Did you know that you mumble in your sleep?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands even more. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

“Please don’t make fun of me this early in the morning.”

Suna pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Ugh… I’ve got class at 9:45. I gotta go home to shower and get ready before then.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. You lowered your hands from your face just in time to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach as his shirt lifted up; the sight of it made your cheeks burn anew, your head turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice you staring.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/n,” he said, putting on his coat.

“Thanks again for coming over,” you said, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

He grinned a little sheepishly as he made his way to the door. “Well, ya know… you gotta do things for the people you care about.”  

 --

 Stepping out into the brisk early springtime air, you spotted a familiar head of dark hair a few yards in front of you.

“Hey, Sunarin!” you called out, waving at him when he turned around. He stopped walking to allow you to catch up with him. “Are you done with class for the day?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got practice.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

He didn’t respond, but the slight shrug of his shoulders as he took off again told you that he wasn’t bothered by your company. You walked side by side, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally, each brief contact setting off butterflies in your stomach. If it had any effect on Suna, he didn’t let it show.

“Have you thought about what classes you’re gonna take next semester?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said. “Why, you gonna start stalking me?” he added, lips quirking up into a grin.

“Just making conversation,” you grumbled, turning your face so he wouldn’t see your blush.

“Y/n!”

You looked up in the direction the voice came from to see a guy from one of your classes making his way over to you. You greeted him politely, and he launched into a conversation about the latest paper you had been assigned, falling into step beside you.

“Are you doing anything now? You wanna go get dinner with me?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, I can’t, actually,” you told him. “I have plans with a friend tonight.”

His face fell a little, but he quickly bounced back. “That’s alright, some other time maybe.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what you’re doing for spring break yet?”

“I’m not really sure, I’ll probably just stay on campus,” you said.

“Oh, me too!” he said, grinning at you. “Maybe we could get together then.”

You had reached a branch in the path, and he turned right to continue towards the dining hall.

“See ya around!” he said with a wave.

You waved back, noticing that Suna’s eyes lingered on the other guy’s back as he walked away.

“That dude likes you,” he said in a deadpan voice.

“Huh?”

“He was trying to ask you out, dumbass.”

“What? No he wasn’t. I don’t think he’d do that in front of you.”

“Well, if he asks you again you should say yes.” Suna was smirking at you, but his voice was devoid of any emotion.

His words pricked at your heart, making your chest feel tight. The idea of him encouraging you to go out with someone else was a little upsetting. You turned your head away from him.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said absentmindedly. In truth, you had no interest in going out with that other guy, but Suna’s comment had left you unsure of what to say.

His brows creased a bit. Turning back to look at him, you saw that his gaze was significantly colder than it had been before. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could.

“I’m gonna be late for practice,” he said flatly, walking off quickly and leaving you to stand alone on the path.

 --

 After that day, things between you and Suna were different. He was suddenly making himself even more scarce than usual, and during the few times when you managed to see him, he was quieter than before. You couldn’t think of what would make him act so coldly towards you, and the possible explanations you came up with in your mind only made you feel worse.

You were waiting outside the gym one evening for Atsumu and Suna to get out of practice. When you saw them walking out the door you went over to greet them, handing over the bag of pork buns you had picked up at the convenience store.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Atsumu said, gratefully accepting the food you offered him; Suna, however, stepped away before you could pass it to him.

“Sorry, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically before turning from you.

“We were planning on playing Smash later, are you gonna be around?” you asked.

“Probably not,” was all he said, waving one hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

Stung, you turned to Atsumu. “Suna’s been avoiding me, right? I haven’t been imagining that?”

Mouth full of pork bun, he shook his head. Swallowing thickly, he said, “Nope, he’s definitely been MIA lately. I don’t know why, though.” Seeing the way you bit your lower lip in worry, he was quick to speak again. “I’m sure it’s got nothin’ to do with you! Sunarin’s probably just busy.”

“Do you think he’s seeing someone?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Nah, if he was I’d know about it. He’s never brought anyone back to the house.” He crammed half a pork bun into his mouth, struggling to chew it. “Honestly, he might just be a little homesick.”

“What?” It was hard to imagine someone like Suna being homesick; considering he spent so much time on his own, you didn’t think of him as the type of person to miss anyone.

“I mean, he told me he’s goin’ home for spring break to spend time with his sister,” Atsumu explained. “He must really miss her.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the news. A part of you had hoped that Suna’s avoidance of you actually was due to his busy schedule, and you had been looking forward to your spring break as the perfect opportunity to get some quality time with him. The fact that he wasn’t going to be there confirmed your doubts, proving, in your mind at least, that he really didn’t want to be around you anymore.

“You got any more of these?” Atsumu’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

“Yeah, here,” you said, giving him the bag of pork buns intended for Suna.

He continued chattering the whole walk back to the house, but you hardly processed a word. You were too busy wondering about what you could have possibly done to make Suna no longer want to be your friend.

--

 It had been several weeks since you had spent any time with Suna, aside from the brief moments when you saw each other at the house when you were visiting the twins, but he always gave an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang around. You knew he was a private person, but his sudden avoidance of you hurt twice as much after he had seemed to be getting more comfortable around you. Several times you had texted him to ask if he wanted to get food with you or watch a movie together, but he either claimed he was too busy with classes, or ignored you altogether. Eventually, you gave up trying to contact him.

But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you did see him in person. You found yourself living for the moments when you would be sitting in the living room with Osamu or Atsumu, and Suna would come downstairs, giving you a quick nod before rushing out the door; or when you would be hanging out in Osamu’s room and Suna would walk down the hallway, locking eyes with you for half a second before going into his own room and shutting the door behind him. Each time you hoped he would stop and actually say something to you, and each time you were left disappointed.

So it came as a surprise when, one day when you and Osamu were in his kitchen making onigiri together, Suna came downstairs and actually lingered for a bit, even after spotting you. Not wanting to scare him off, you bit your tongue as he sat on the counter, watching you form the rice balls with your hands.

“Those look good,” he said; you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or Osamu.

“Here,” Osamu said, putting some on a plate and passing it to his friend. “You headin’ out soon?”

Suna nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yeah, I’ve gotta meet with my advisor.”

“We’re going out to eat later, you should come. You haven’t hung out with us in a while.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been kinda flakey lately,” he said, his tone apologetic.

You couldn’t help yourself. Looking him in the eye, you spoke. “We’ve missed you, Rintarou. It’s not as fun without you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” Osamu muttered, but you hardly heard him. For the first time in weeks, Suna was looking directly at you, his gaze almost soft.

“Can’t imagine how rough it must be for you to have to spend time with these two goons,” he said, grinning.

“I’m standing right here, man,” Osamu said, his voice sounding only slightly annoyed.

You laughed, and to your amazement Suna returned it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hopeful that this awkward tension between you two was finally over.

“Text me when you guys are leaving, okay?” he said, hopping down off the counter and making for the front door. “I’ll meet you there.”

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off your face even after he left. The thought of spending time with him again was almost too much for you.

“I wish you guys would just fuckin’ kiss already,” Osamu griped, his hands still deftly forming perfectly-shaped onigiri.

“Huh?!” you spluttered, nearly choking as his words sank in. “Who?”

“You and Sunarin, you clown. Do ya have any idea how painful it’s been watchin’ you two idiots for the past few months? Jesus, even ’Tsumu noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“That you guys like each other!”

“I don’t—wha—,” you fumbled over your words, not entirely sure what to say. “Suna doesn’t like me!”

“Uh huh, yeah, okay. Y/n, the man made you a whole-ass pot of soup when you were sick. I’ve known him for years and he won’t even let me borrow his phone charger.”

“If he likes me, then why has he spent the last two months completely ignoring me?”

“Because Rintarou has the emotional intelligence of a fuckin’ cantaloupe.” Osamu finally turned to look at you, his hands resting on his hips. “Look, he’s never actually liked someone before—not for real, anyway—so I don’t think he knows what to do about you. He’s never gonna fess up and tell you how he feels, so his next best option is to just avoid you entirely. But he’s been missing you, real bad. I can tell.”

“So I’m supposed to be the one to tell him?”

Osamu smirked at you. “So you actually like him?”

You paused for a moment, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I like him.”

It was the first time you had admitted it even to yourself. A wave of relief immediately washed over you, as if you had been holding onto a secret that you no longer had to hide.

Ignoring the blush you felt creeping onto your face, you forced yourself to look at your friend.

“But isn’t that weird for you? I mean, we’re your best friends, would you really be okay with it if we started dating?”

Osamu glanced up as he thought about it, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “It’d be a little weird at first, but I’d get used to it. But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” He looked back down at you. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“’Samu,” you wailed, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

“So, you gonna tell him or what?”

“I don’t know… what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”

“He definitely does.”

“Well, maybe it’s just not a good idea for us to date… I mean, neither of us has ever been in a real relationship before, what if we just crash and burn?”

Osamu took in another deep breath, looking as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. “Look, you know I’m not a sappy guy, and I feel gross even saying this, but honestly, you and Rintarou are two of the most compatible people I’ve ever met. Even I can see how cute you guys are together. You’d be stupid not to date him.”

“Seriously, ’Samu, you’re actually gonna make me cry.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning back to make more onigiri. “Just hurry up and confess already, I miss hangin’ out with my friends.”

 --

 You waited until Atsumu and Osamu were out of the house; that way, if things didn’t go well, you could quietly slip away to collect your dignity without having to answer any questions from them first.

You stood in Suna’s doorway, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you steeled yourself for what you were about to do. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones on, looking at something on his laptop, but when you knocked on the door frame he glanced up, noticing you for the first time.  

“Hey, Rintarou,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Can we talk?”

He took his headphones off and shut his laptop, setting it to the side and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped into his room and sat down next to him. He was looking at you intently, a small crease between his brows. You glanced down at your lap, fingers twisting nervously, before looking at his face again. If you weren’t honest with him now, you never would be.

“I like you,” you said bluntly, “more than just a friend.” Suna’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continued, really struggling now to hold his gaze. “I just… I had to tell you. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, that’s not what I want. Your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want to lose that, so even if you don’t—”

“Y/n.”

Your words caught in your throat, afraid of what he was about to say.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was impossibly soft, the question sounding so delicate as it fell past his lips.

You could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment. You nodded your head. “Yes.”    

Suna’s hand reached up to cup your cheek before he leaned in, agonizingly slowly, to press his mouth to yours. His lips were so soft, his touch incredibly gentle. Placing both hands on the back of his neck, you melted into him, sighing as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you in closer. You could feel him grinning against your lips just before he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I like you, too,” he said softly.

Returning his smile, you leaned in to fit your mouth to his again, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, to have him kiss you so tenderly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him.

“Rin, I have to go,” you whispered against his lips.

“What?” His expression was puzzled as you abruptly stood up.

“I have class in ten minutes,” you explained, making your way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and then dip?”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning. “Yup.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the smile was still on his face even as you left.

 --

 The first few weeks after you and Suna started dating passed by in a blur. The heartache you had felt when he kept his distance from you had been replaced by a constant feeling of joy at the knowledge that you were together now. You still got butterflies every time you saw him, your heart melting each time you pressed a kiss into his cheek and saw a blush creep onto his face.

The only complaint you had was that after three weeks, you and Suna still hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, but there was always something that prevented you from actually succeeding: he was too exhausted after finishing volleyball practice; you both had term papers to work on; someone on your floor burnt popcorn in the microwave, setting off the fire alarm. The closest you two came to doing anything was one night when you thought you had the house to yourselves. You and Suna were making out on his bed, and he was just about to take off your shirt when Atsumu suddenly burst into the room to ask if they were all out of laundry detergent. He had quickly left, smirking, after realizing what he was interrupting, but you were too embarrassed to continue after he closed the door.

At this point, it had been over a year since you last had sex, and you were starting to go a little crazy. You were pretty sure Suna knew it, too, based on the smirks he gave you when he happened to catch the way you would stare at him periodically. After the length of time it took for you two to finally admit your feelings for each other, it was incredibly frustrating that the universe seemed to be keeping you apart again.

The end of the semester rolled around, and the twins decided to throw another big party before finals week. You managed to convince Suna to not hide in his room the entire time, and to your amazement he seemed to be having a good time, laughing in the corner with some friends from the volleyball team.

You were sitting on the couch next to Osamu, slowly sipping the beer in your hand. He was talking to you about your plans for the summer, but you couldn’t stop your attention from drifting over to your boyfriend every once in a while, grinning at him each time you happened to catch his eye.

“Our parents are renting that beach house for two weeks in July, you wanna come with us again?” Osamu asked, drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, a little distracted.

“Your boyfriend can come, too, of course,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to hide your blushing face by downing the rest of your drink.

“Bet you’re gonna miss him, yeah? Three months is a long time to be apart from your lover.”

“I swear to god, ’Samu, if you don’t shut the fuck up…” you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at your friend’s teasing.

Osamu’s attention was stolen then by someone asking him to go do shots, so you got up and walked to the kitchen by yourself to throw out your empty beer bottle. After you tossed it in the bin, you felt warm hands encircle your waist and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

“It’s getting kinda crowded down here, you wanna go upstairs?” Suna’s warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in his arms. Turning around to face him, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him by the hand and leading the way to the stairs.

Closing his bedroom door muffled the sounds of the party, and you were able to breathe easier now that you were alone with him. Suna scrolled through his phone briefly before finding the playlist he was searching for, setting his phone down once the music started playing.

“Hey,” you said, grinning as you recognized the song, “this is the same playlist that you put on the night we met.”

He took a few steps towards you, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in close. “I know,” he said simply before leaning down to kiss you. You allowed him to deepen it, lips parting for his tongue, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

Without breaking away, Suna guided you to his bed, gently laying you down and crawling on top of you, his knee coming up to press between your legs. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him grin against you. Breathing hard, you pulled his shirt over his head, leaning back so that you could look at him. You had known he was fit from all the times your body had been pressed against his, but seeing his muscular form with your own eyes was different. You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal growing between your thighs.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Y/n,” he whispered, leaning down to press kisses into your neck.

“I know,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” He pulled your shirt off of you, warm hands burning into your skin. “Do you know what I’m gonna do next?” he teased in a low voice, mouth moving down over your collarbones as his hands came up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples through your bra.

“Rin,” you whined when he pulled down the fabric to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand coming to rest between your thighs, groaning against your skin when he felt the wetness seeping through your shorts.

“Yeah, baby?” He was kissing a line down your stomach, goosebumps rising in his wake. He tugged off your shorts and panties together as you sat up to unhook your bra, tossing it onto the floor without taking your eyes off his face. Your hands immediately moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them as you planted sloppy kisses across his chest. He wriggled out of them and threw them to the side, before wrapping a hand around each of your legs and spreading them apart. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, lips gliding over the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, baby. I know how badly you want this.”

You whimpered, fingers running through his hair and gripping tightly. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver again. A loud moan escaped you when he finally pressed his tongue against your pussy, running slowly over your folds and circling around your clit before moving back down. He repeated the motion, making your breath come out in short pants as your fingers tangled themselves further in his hair.

“God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned against you. His hands pressed down on your hipbones, pinning you in place as you started trembling around him, small whimpers leaving your mouth the closer you came to your release. You drew your legs up, the heel of one of your feet resting on his back as your spine arched, pressing into his mouth.

“Fuck, Rin, I’m so close,” you gasped out. He hummed, hands reaching up to trace his fingertips along your sides. You started moving your hips and he stilled, holding his tongue out for you to grind against. Within seconds you were cumming, legs shaking and nails digging almost painfully into his scalp. He kept his mouth open to allow you to ride out your high, gaze trained on your face.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, moving to plant a row of kisses up your throat and over your jaw. “So fucking cute.” His lips fitted against yours as he grinded into you, the friction against your clit making you gasp.

“Rin,” you whispered, pulling away to look in his eyes, “lie down.”

He rolled off of you, reaching out with both hands to pull you on top of him. You kissed him once, teasingly, before sitting up and gazing down at him. With one finger, you traced a line from his throat down over his chest and stomach, coming to rest where the skin dipped down between his hipbones, smiling to yourself at the way he shivered from your touch. Hooking your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, you gently tugged them off of him, watching the way his thick cock sprang out to slap against his abs. Heart pounding excitedly, you dragged your nails over the top of his thigh, pleased when his muscles tensed beneath you.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he groaned, fingers digging into your arm. “I’ve had to wait so long for this.”

You would have been content to make him wait even longer, wanting to hear him begging you to touch him, but the pleading look in his eyes softened your resolve. “I know,” you purred, leaning down to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, grinning to yourself when you heard his sharp inhale. You swirled your tongue around the tip, letting your spit run down his length, before wrapping your lips around his cock.

Soft moans and pants reached your ears as you slowly took all of him into your mouth. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat you paused, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch of your jaw. You slid your tongue along his cock as you hummed lightly, eliciting a loud groan from him. Your hand came to grip his cock as you started bobbing your head up and down, moving in tandem with your mouth. Suna tilted his head to watch you, his chest rising and falling heavily. Keeping your eyes on his face, your mouth left his cock with a wet pop and moved down to suck on his balls, your hand continuing to jerk him off.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. His fingers entwined themselves in your hair, gripping firmly, but you had reached the limit of your patience. You crawled back on top of him, thighs planted on either side of his hips, and used your hand to drag his cock along the folds of your cunt.

“I wanna feel you, Rin,” you said breathlessly as his hands gripped your hips. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Pressing his tip into you, you slowly sank down onto him, loving the way his mouth fell open as you took him completely inside you. The stretch made you gasp, head falling forward to rest against the crook of his neck. You kissed the skin just below his ear as you started grinding your hips against him, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The sensation on your clit made you moan into his skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered.

“Feels good,” you whimpered, your pace quickening. “S-so good.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight…”

The knot in your stomach was rapidly tightening. A few more motions were all it took for you to be cumming again; you pressed your lips against Suna’s, tongue reaching into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

When your hips stilled, he lifted you off of him and flipped you over onto your back, nipping at the skin of your neck as he repositioned himself between your legs. With a groan, he sank into you again, hips snapping against you urgently. Your body already felt worn out, but the sensation of him fucking you so deeply had you clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you. He lifted your trembling legs onto his shoulders, the new angle of his cock thrusting into you making you cry out.

“Is that your spot, baby?” he crooned, repeatedly hitting the place that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there, Rin, p-please don’t stop!” you babbled. One of your hands reached out to grab his and bring it to your neck, eyes pleading with him.

His fingers tightened around your throat. “Fuck, you look so cute taking my cock like that. You gonna cum again, pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”

His grip on your throat was making you lightheaded, the friction against your clit sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body. The spot his cock was hitting inside your pussy had you hurtling towards the edge again, eyes rolling back as you incoherently begged him not to stop.

“Rin, I-I’m cumming—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you practically sobbed as your pussy clenched around him again. He released his hold on your throat, moving his hand up to lift your jaw and kiss you deeply, relishing when you moaned into his mouth. Your lips parted and he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, continuing to pound into you as you came. His breath stuttered as his thrusts grew more erratic, his face flushed as his cock throbbed inside you, hot cum filling your cunt.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, slower than before. He pulled out and laid down beside you, breathing hard. You reached up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, fingers running over his cheekbones.

“Why did we wait so long to do this,” you asked, making him laugh.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” he said with a grin.

You exhaled happily, moving closer to him and nestling your head against his chest. His arm reached out to wrap around you and press his palm into your spine to pull you closer. He was warm, but your uncovered body shivered against the chill in the air, goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Here, cutie,” he said, shifting so that he could pull the comforter over you. “Comfy?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss into his collarbone.

With Rin’s arm around you and his steady heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more content than you had in a long time.

 --

 You woke up before Suna. He had moved in his sleep, now lying on his back with one arm outstretched underneath your head. You watched him for a moment, smiling at the calm expression on his face, before climbing out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. Putting on your panties and one of Suna’s oversized t-shirts, you slipped out the door to walk to the bathroom down the hall.

Osamu and Atsumu’s doors were still closed, a fact that you were grateful for when you reached the bathroom and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, your neck littered with little love bites, damning indicators of what you had been up to the night before. Splashing your face with water, you tried to scrub off the smeared remnants of yesterday’s makeup. Satisfied when you no longer looked like you spent the night in a club, you crept back into your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey,” Suna mumbled when you stepped back through the doorway, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you shut the door.

“Take those clothes off and come back to bed.”

You giggled, shrugging out of your clothes and stepping towards his outstretched arms. He pulled you into a tight embrace, peppering your face with kisses. He settled you down on your side next to him, pulling your thigh up to rest on his hip.

“Rin!” you squealed when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“I just wanna be inside you, baby,” he murmured. His touch had already made you wet, allowing his cock to slide into you easily. You sighed as his hips pressed up against yours.

His lips met with yours, his kiss achingly sweet. “I don’t ever want you to leave this bed,” he breathed out. You smiled against his lips, fingers running through his soft hair. He shifted his hips then, and the sensation was too much for you.

“O-oh,” you whimpered as your pussy tightened around him.

“Are you cumming?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up into a grin.

“Sh-shut up.”

He didn’t say anything else, simply tightening his arms around you and kissing you again. The two of you lay like that for a while, slipping into a peaceful state of half-sleep, until the sound of a distant door being flung open pulled you back.

“Fuck,” Suna mumbled under his breath. Not a second later, a loud knock sounded from the other side of his door.

“Sunariiiiin,” Atsumu’s voiced whined from the hallway. “Are you guys up yet?”

“Is that door locked?” Suna whispered to you. Commending yourself for your earlier foresight, you nodded. “Good.”

“Suna! Y/n!” He pounded on the door. “I know you guys can hear me, come on!”

“I gotta get my own place,” Suna grumbled, his eyes still closed. You giggled, and when the knocking on the door stopped you snuggled in closer to him, ready to go back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, reaching out to grab it from the nightstand. “What do you want, Atsumu?”

“Aha! I knew you were awake!” He sounded very pleased with himself for succeeding in getting you to talk to him. “Can you make me pancakes?”

There was a pause as his question sank in. Holding your phone to your head and staring at Suna, you pulled away from him and sat up, eliciting a low groan from him. “You want me to make you pancakes?” you repeated in an incredulous voice. Suna cracked open his eyes, his face scrunching up as he heard Atsumu’s request.

“Yeah!”

“Get Osamu to do it.”

“He doesn’t make them as good as you!”

You could practically hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh. “Give me a minute.”

“Thankyouthankyouthanky—” You ended the call before he finished. Climbing out of bed, you pulled on your clothes again.

“Are you actually gonna do it?” Suna asked.

“He’s just gonna keep harassing us until I do it anyway,” you said. “Besides, it’s almost ten o’clock, we might as well get up.”

Suna rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Grinning, you tossed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt at him.

Atsumu looked way too happy when you finally appeared downstairs. He and Osamu were sitting at the kitchen counter together; they nudged a steaming mug towards you when you walked in.

“We made you coffee,” he said, his grin wide across his face.

“Uh huh,” you grumbled.

“Where’s mine?” Suna asked as he trailed in behind you.

“Make your own, dick,” Osamu told him, smirking as he sipped his own drink.

Suna rolled his eyes, going to pour himself a cup from the coffeemaker.

Trying to hide your laughter from him, you gathered up the ingredients and set to work. When all the pancakes were done cooking you passed half of them across the counter to the twins.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, closing his eyes as he took a bite. “So good.”

“I gotta teach you how to make these yourself, ’Tsumu,” you said, taking a bite of your own breakfast.

“Yeah, that way you clowns can let us sleep in for once,” Suna added.

“Don’t pretend, Y/n,” Atsumu said, “you know you love seeing my cute little face first thing in the morning.”

“I prefer seeing ’Samu’s, actually,” you teased. Osamu stuck his tongue out at his twin, laughing at his crumpled expression.

When you all finished eating, Atsumu and Osamu jumped up to wash the dishes for you. Holding your mug of coffee with both hands, you leaned into Suna’s side.

Looking over his shoulder at you two, Osamu grinned. “So, how was your night?”

“Fine,” you said in a casual tone.

“And that’s all you’re gonna get out of us,” Suna finished.

Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “As if I’d want any details.”

“My night was great, thanks for asking,” Atsumu chimed in.

“Yeah? Was that before or after you puked in the backyard?”

“’Samu!”

You couldn’t help the relaxed smile that found its way onto your face, happy to get to listen to them teasing each other like always. With one hand resting on the counter, Suna’s other reached around your waist to tug you closer, fitting your body against his. Standing there laughing with your friends, with his arm around you, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

--

➣epilogue

--

➣masterlist

[leverage-commentary]

Leverage Season 3, Episode 4, The Scheherezade Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

John: From left to right on your radio dial this is John Rogers, executive producer.

Aldis: This is DJ Chocolate Skittles, also known as Aldis Hodge.

Chris: And this is Chris Downey, executive producer and writer of this episode, The Scheherazade Job.

John: Aldis has very kindly decided to join us for this commentary since he was-

Aldis: Hello!

John: He did a lot of work on this episode. This one rode- 

Chris: Oh yeah

John: This was one of those ones where you're just like, ‘This actor's gonna be working his ass off for this.’

Aldis: Oh joy.

John: Well Chris, why don't you tell us the origin of this episode?

Chris: Ah well the origin came from a- my friend here to the left, Aldis, back in season one we were just talking about you know things we like to do in our spare time and Aldis mentioned that he loved the violin, he’d been studying it, it was the closest thing to the human voice for an instrument.

Aldis: Yes.

Chris: And coincidentally my wife is a violinist and at the time I said to you, ‘I'm gonna find a way in an episode of Leverage to have you play the violin’ and what did you say to me?

Aldis: I think I said, ‘Do it.’

[Laughter]

Chris: And then you laughed at me.

Aldis: Yeah, we were shooting what was that, the season finale?

Chris: Might've been the season finale

Aldis: That was- yeah, Pasadena?

John: Yup

Aldis: Yeah, yeah, I remember that conversation.

Chris: And this is Martha Boles, terrific actress from Los Angeles.

John: This is interesting actually, we had a- when we were setting up the bad guy here, we had an interesting conversation about- and this is one of those things you talk about in television. Should the reporter be white or not?

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah. We were looking at casting and we were like, no it should be a black reporter working with that. And then we got some, you know, feedback that's like, well now it's a white crew of criminals, apparently missing Aldis’s presence, helping out a black reporter. 

Aldis: Don’t worry, they miss me all the time.

John: It's one of those- it’s tricky, it's one of those things where one of the reasons we kinda were leery of doing international crimes, first season and second season. And you kinda- because it's always a minefield, it just is. And now in third season, everyone’s comfortable and everyone knows the show well enough that you can kinda try to swing outside the box. I think Chris did a great job taking this outside the box for the first time on the show.

Chris: Yeah it was- it was interesting cause most- I think we talked about this, most episodes start with the bad guy and we kinda work our way from there. We kinda talk about ‘what's the bad guy, what does he want, what is his weaknesses’. And this is one of those episodes that started with a big idea late in the episode which was the orchestra heist, and we kinda worked from there to kind of try and figure out whose our bad guy? And that's- we decided- we hadn't done an African kleptocrat, we wanted to do that for a long time, and this seemed like a good opportunity to do that.

John: Now also when doing a straight heist, because we were coming at it as a straight heist, we wanted a small highly portable object. The cleaner the object, the cleaner the goal of the heist, the more you can work around the elegance of the heist itself. And when you're staring with an elegant heist, which is the music heist, you have to do something very clean, which was diamonds. And so it all sort of fed into this one storyline.

Chris: Yes, yes.

Aldis: Didn't you want to play the organ? At first I mean that's plain and portable and-

[Laughter]

John: Yes, originally it was a giant Wurlitzer organ. 

Aldis: Yeah, just a whole thing.

John: This was a ton of fun, this was a great little fight scene. 

Chris: Yeah.

Aldis: Kane had too much fun shooting this.

Chris: He had a lot of fun here. And these gentlemen are Garfield Wedderburn and- yeah, Garfield Wedderburn is the lead goon here; his name is goon.

Aldis: Goon.

[Laughter]

Chris: And there he is doing this- some kind of scary tai chi?

Aldis: That was actually a joke and it just made it on the reel, it was like-

John: You know what? We saw it in the dailies, we were gonna cut out of it but it was like- but the idea he would just scare the shit out of those guys to get them to go. ‘Can your dog do that?’ That was great.

Chris: ‘Can your dog do that?’

John: It is nice every now and then to remind people exactly why everyone on the team is there.

Chris: By the way, I love that you named the dog Megabyte. 

Aldis: Megabyte, yeah, yes.

John: That was you, that’s right. 

Chris: That was all you.

Aldis: If anybody can get that, Megabyte, yes. Now if one of those days we just see the dog, which will probably be a poofy little yorkie or something like that.

John: Dogs are too expensive; we can't afford them.

Chris: We can't afford them.

Aldis: We can't afford dogs.

Chris: We'll do a virtual dog.

Aldis: A virtual dog, yes.

John: That's sad.

Aldis: The little mechanical one with the batteries? Yeah.

Chris: Sure.

John: Now continuing the original conversation, so we knew we were working backwards towards an African kleptocrat, but how do you find a guy who’s like based in the states, so we’re not flying overseas, we’re not trying to fake a city you can't fake on our budget. And so that led us to the research and- did we find someone who was real, Chris?

Chris: Well, there's no similarities to persons living or dead. But, um-

John: We’d like to say for both legal reasons, and so we don't get shot in the face.

Chris: Yes, please.

John: Oh my god, this guy is real and he's horrible!

Chris: He's real, he's horrible. He's not a classical music fan, that was something we brought to it, to facilitate the story. But he is a very wealthy relative of an African kleptocrat who has a house here in the United States and in Paris and has a Bugatti and all the things you would imagine a kleptocrat would.

John: All the way down, actually, to the fact that the reason he does not fall under the- is not criminalized under some of the kleptocrat laws we have here in the States, with the same plot point we have in the show, which is he's been a friend in the war on terror.

Chris: Yes, yes that’s all true.

John: Which looks like he pretty much turns in political opponents.

Chris: Wow, we certainly don't want to say that he does that, but-

John: But oh come on.

Chris: And here we have-

John: Your name’s on the show, they're gonna kill you. I'm not too worried. 

[Laughter]

John: And here's Elisabetta Canalis, the loveliest Elisabetta Canalis.

Aldis: Aldis Hodge was never here, was never here. This actually is the second time we've seen her in the entire arc of this third season. So now the audience is getting another taste of exactly who she is, because she just left us off with blackmail, and now, you know, we're digging into her story. Of course at the end of the show, we get to see that she's not as fair game as she comes up to be.

Chris: Yeah, and we wanted to make her kind of you know sexy and mysterious, and I like this scene cause-

Aldis: Sexy what? Sexy?

Chris: Yeah well she-

John: Well there's no reason we just shoot her legs in every scene.

[Laughter]

Aldis: Exactly, there's no reason to put her in heels and closeups on the face, no! Not at all.

John: This was a nice bit that you came up with: the idea that kind of flirting, sexy, dangerous. And Nate Ford being smart enough to realize it’s a very bad idea.

Chris: I love this, this is one of my favorite flashes.

John: It's one of my favorite zooms, it's a hypothetical zoom, it's something we never usually do.

Chris: I like it because right here she looks so bored,

[Laughter]

Chris: There's something about the insouciance of it, of her.

John: Oh another guy being garotted in front of me.

Chris: Oh stop the tape.

John: It's another Thursday for me.

Chris: And he was- Tim was great at, you know, holding his throat like that.

John: Yeah the- well the sort of implication, again, is again, it’s tricky the team has been playing a lot without ever being taken down themselves. Tim has to carry a lot of the weight acting because he's the one who interacts with Elizabetta the most, to convey the threat she portrays to make sure you take her seriously. And nice diagrams on the glass boards. I always love the glass boards

Aldis: Provided by…?

John: Who drew on that one? I don't think I drew on that one, I wasn't there for that one. 

Aldis: Really?

John: No, that handwriting is too good that's not me. Usually- yeah, usually I spew the bullshit that goes up on the glass.

Chris: Now what's nice- 

Aldis: And it- oh, sorry, go ahead

Chris: Oh I was gonna say it’s a nice opportunity to get a little bit into Eliot's backstory which we, in the early scene in the bar, he alludes to the fact that knows about these- what goes on in these countries, these Chinese- these child soldiers. And you know I think here you can kinda see this whole- this whole particular case is really, you know, affecting him directly.

John: Yeah it's part of the over the course of the arc, kind of peeling back everybodys past this season. And we gave Eliot you know- we really wanted to sort of reset and remind people for the finale that Eliot, you know Eliot killed people. Eliot was not a good guy and is trying to be a better guy.

Aldis: What I had to say was nowhere near as intuitive as that, but the prior scene a lot of- a lot of times you'll see Sophie wearing that dog tag, it’s blank. It's like a name tag, but it's blank, and that's an ode to the fact that she hasn't given Nate her real name. And it kind plays throughout the entire season so for those of you have paid attention-

John: We actually used it, we actually- the audience doesn't know those dog tags are blank because she doesnt show the dog tags. But when she told us she was doing it we wrote- 

Aldis: Did I just give up a secret?

John: No, no, no it’s cool. What happened is: she wears them. And we were like, ‘What are those?’ And she told us dog tags are blank, it's a little private joke. So we wrote it into the show, that's why she gets the blank pendant in episode 13, cause we just thought that was really cool and that's something Gina came up with on her own.

Aldis: It's just gonna be a drinking game every time they spot the dog tags. 

John: Sure, there's already a lot of drinking games.

Aldis: There are.

John: There are a lot on the web, you go on there's a lot of drinking games.

Aldis: Every time we say ‘seriously’, drink! 

[Laughter]

Aldis: Not that we promote that here, no.

Chris: Not at all.

John: No, I don't do all of these with a beer in my hand.

Chris: No no drinking games.

Aldis: What is that you're drinking John, water?

John: It’s- yes, dark Irish water.

Aldis: Yes.

John: This was a nice again- we started splitting people up so we could- the coverage is a little easier. and it helped us remind- Third season we started taking a lot of the prep that was implied in act 0 of seasons 1 and 2 and moving it into act 1 and act 2 of this season. Where you see them doing the prep and putting together the plan on the fly as they get information.

Chris: Right.

John: Which both makes it more dynamic, and helps us with shooting.

Chris: Yeah, I mean this is a very plan-intensive episode, and you want to try and make the planning side interesting visually.

John: Yeah because there's so much pipe to lay in a believable way to get to that great fourth act. I mean you have to make sure the audience is utterly invested by that point.

Chris: I like this little bit with you guys right here.

Aldis: Me and Kane man, when we get together it's always a party.

Chris: But what's great about you guys is it's not always the bickering brothers, where you're yelling at each other that makes me laugh. It's just the little throwaway things of the two of you together.

Aldis: It's the little things that bring the sparkle to your eye, the little things.

[Laughter]

Chris: And they just the way we did this- 

Aldis: This was a funny sequence to shoot.

John: Yeah this was great. This was- what did we name the reporter?

Chris: Guy Hamilton which is an ode to Mel Gibson's character in The Year of Living Dangerously.

[Laughter]

Chris: For all you folks out there keeping score. By the way, I forgot yesterday when we did Gone Fishing Job that you are- your names when you went into the bank and were Brody and Quinn from Jaws.

John: Because you're gonna need a bigger boat.

Chris: This looks great, by the way!

Aldis: I'm pretty sure you need another drink for that.

Chris: Look at that, he's there!

John: I've seen far less convincing stuff on CNN.

[Laughter]

John: I'm fairly sure, yeah

Chris: And there's Giancarlo Esposito fantastic.

John: Friend of Tim, came in and did this for us. Really really great, flew in.

Aldis: His daughters’ actually in the orchestra, they- one plays violin the other plays viola.

John: Oh cool.

Aldis: Yeah, so he had a lot to discuss.

John: I love seeing the evil dude Skype list; I just realized we could see it on there. It’s like ‘Lefou is away. Where is Lefou?’

Chris: Pizza Hut? Why does he have Pizza Hut on Skype?

John: On Skype? That's weird. And who is that lurking behind him?

Chris: Oh lurking behind him is Nnamdi Asomugha who is an all pro cornerback for the Oakland Raiders. Arguably the best cornerback in the NFL.

Aldis: And you have your Raiders ball here, it's perfect.

Chris: And I have my Raiders ball here to prove it.

John: Now how did he wind up on the show?

Chris: Well, you know, like any famous Hollywood story, it started at a hockey game.

[Laughter]

Chris: My- we have a mutual agent, and he invited me to a hockey game and said, ‘This is my friend Nnamdi.’ And although I am a big sports fan, for some reason the best cornerback in the NFL eluded me and I just met him as a guy. And we were chatting and found out he was- he acted and I asked him at the time, his families from Nigeria and I- this was a year ago, and I said, ‘Can you do a good African accent?’ He said, ‘Oh definitely.’ I said, ‘Alright, well if we get a part for, you know a big guy, menacing guy with an African accent I'll call you’. And lo and behold, episode came up and he did a fantastic job.

John: I think his family is from Ethiopia, actually.

Chris: No, I think he’s Nigerian.

John: Nigerian? Oh ok. And here- this is her playing Christie Connelly again.

Chris: Yes, yes.

John: Yes, this is why we started bringing back the- as we realized that they are gonna be roles that the- it also sort of came up as we did our research that con artists tend to settle into certain roles that they've done background on, and also that they've established the credentials to. We mention later actually on another episode that she's like, ‘I got seven years worth of work on this identity’, so she's doing a similar gig, so why not use the same name?

Chris: And let's be honest it's also our nod to James Garner, who was Jimmy Joe Meeker in multiple episodes of the Rockford Files.

John: Yes exactly, also she gets to use her native accent in this.

Chris: Yeah, that’s right!

John: Cause Gina is from New Zealand, not England. Most people- she grew up in England but she was born in New Zealand, and was a child in New Zealand, so she gets to use her kiwi accent here. Very kicky little gold chain going on there.

Chris: And I love this, this is a great kind of subtle sales pitch that she just sells so well.

John: Yeah. And again this is one of those great things in the show, not blowing smoke up our own skirts, but the fun of having great actors is you con, con, con, and then you park it on these little two-person scenes and it's fun, you know, it actually plays.

Chris: And here's- you know I like the idea that we've kind of developed with Hardison’s character that, you know, he's chafing a little bit around the crew, and, kind of, as the youngest member of the crew, kind of like, sees that he’d like to run his own crew someday and kind of expressing that here. I mean how did you approach this Aldis? Was that something that you kinda thought of for the character?

Aldis: I approached it, I stretched, I, uh, did a couple push ups.

John: Well we get a lot of emails from him ‘I should be the lead of the show,’ so it's a similar thing.

[Laughter]

Chris: But I know we had discussions about it not being a typical father/son kind of vibe. Right?

Aldis: Right, right, right. This is- this entire situation was newly presented to me in the script. That's when I found out that I was  like, ‘OK, Hardison wants to step up.’ But I think that- I mean, it's a great premise and he is the youngest, so he has the most to learn because he hasn't figured out all of his bad habits just yet. 

Chris: Right.

Aldis: And so he can sit back, watch his team, watch how they work, watch the mistakes they make, and then ten season later, hint hint, audience, hint hint-

Chris: Ten seasons when you'll be all of 35.

[Laughter]

Aldis: Exactly.

John: Then you'll be ready to lead the crew. 

Aldis: Exactly.

John: Yeah no it's- we really played around with it. It's not father/son it's sort of- it’s really Paper Chase but for crime.

Chris: Yes, yes, very much, I think that's a great way of putting it. And I love, here, too, if I can blow some more smoke up you, that, you know, we play big characters in these cons that are, like, larger than life. I mean, I think, you know, the Ice Man Job character comes to mind-

Aldis: [Mimicking the accent he did] The Ice Man Job.

Chris: When you play a kind of a small reserved guy, all inside, it's such a nice change, and it’s like it adds a vulnerability to these con characters that I think is great.

Aldis: He's very not- he wasn't a meek character, but he's very, very humble.

Chris: Humble that's better.

Aldis: He came from a hard life, he knew how to appreciate what was there, he knows how to prioritize, you know, to put everything else before his own needs. And that's kinda where I felt this character was coming from. He couldn't be too big or else, you know, with all of the skills, his grandeur, he would have done something with that by now; he's a cab driver, so he's gotta be quiet about something.

John: And the- also, this was the first time I think we put- we had talked about the different skills, as you go into every season you talk about like, ‘How do we make sure we focus on the characters? How do we make sure nobody blends in the background?’ And one of the things is reminding everyone- and we did this really in the Jailbreak and especially in this one to set it up, Parker is great at three dimensional heists. Parker rotates objects in three dimensional space. So she's Nate's partner here; he might be able to cook up plans, but she's the one telling him the parameters of those plans with the physical heists. 

Aldis: Right.

John: No one is better than her at physical insertion, and that's one of the things we kinda hammered during this season. 

Aldis: I think our skills- I mean we’re all necessary to one another, but our skills kinda levy a system of checks and balances-

John: Yeah.

Aldis: The way the government should do it. But we can do one thing and take it only so far and then pass it off, then the next team member polishes it up and takes you to the very next level. 

John: What- Chris why don't you talk about how we structured the heist?

Chris: Well you know the- back when we were trying to break the story the initial idea behind it was that there would be two levels of tension in the big act, in the big heist. There would be part of the team breaking in to steal the object, and there would be Hardison on stage sweating out having to play this impossible solo in front of people. And the problem that I was running  into was: why did these two things have to happen at the same time? Why now? Why can't they be breaking in on a Wednesday, you know, when Hardison's not scheduled to play this. And John, you said- thought about it for a minute, and you said, ‘Well obviously it's the only time that they can do the heist is when there’s- when the orchestra is playing because that's when they have to turn off the motion detectors.’

Aldis: Because John has stolen from an orchestra before, when they-

[Laughter]

Aldis: He speaks from personal experience.

Chris: And I took a minute and I said, ‘I could kiss you on the mouth.’

[Laughter]

John: That was one of those ‘what's in the Arclight’ days? I contributed almost nothing else to this episode. I was busy off doing the season opener. We were banging these out before the rest of the staff- and I came up with that bit and I'm like, ‘You're gold, go have fun, I’m out.’ I got that, and then we basically- knowing the motion detectors couldn't be beaten and played us back into the other security measures, and created this impossible vault. And that was also fun, we started for the first time throwing stuff at the team where it's like, ‘yeah there's some stuff you just can't beat,’ you know, that you have to go sideways. 

Aldis: I’d like to note here that I'm wearing every possible shade of gray that there is known to man.

[Laughter]

John: Why is that? Is that an emotional choice? Is that about his ambivalence about his role in the con? Or is that-?

Aldis: I have no idea

John: Always say- you know what? Do the thing I just did with him, start with ‘obviously’ it's a good way- when you wanna throw up an enormous amount of bullshit just start with ‘Obviously.’

Aldis: Obviously!

John: And then just, people buy it.

Aldis: What we wanted to do was confuse the audience.

John: Oh Scheherezade, exactly how'd you choose Scheherezade?

Chris: Well we needed- we needed a piece that was public domain, as a practical matter, because we have budget constraints in this show. And that ended on a violin solo. And it was- I forgot what the other candidates were, but my wife, I have to give her credit at least a little, fantastic violinist, picked Scheherezade and said, ‘You gotta listen to this.’ And I listened to the last 7 minutes because I knew we needed it to kind of roll out in real time over the course of the heist. And the solo just kinda like dropped me, I thought, ‘Oh my god, this is gonna be fantastic.’ And then when I did a little research on Scheherezade’s story, how she was the wife of a- in the story of the Arabian Nights he killed- every night he married a different wife, and killed them the next morning. And then Scheherezade walked in and figured she'd be finished, but every night she told him a story, and the story kept him on- you know, on the edge of his seat, she never told him the ending and finally after 1001 nights he married her. So I said OK, that’s the first grifter in history’. And that just kinda fit in thematically with the whole episode, and that's when we knew we had to use that piece.

John: And our music guy Joe Deluca putting a lovely little sort of spin, sort of- 

Chris: Yeah he had a very nice-

John: -Arabian Nights spin on the score there. Now, you play violin. What did you think when we dropped Scheherezade on your lap?

Aldis: Well I was screaming inside, running for my life.

[Laughter]

Aldis: Jesus I've only been playing just for- not even five years, and when I took the music to my music teacher, she like- lord have mercy, she had a heart attack. She was like- she had been playing professionally for 20 years before she tackled Scheherezade. My other teacher had been playing, also, I believe between 20 and 30 years before she tackled Scheherezade so I had no confidence whatsoever. No, kidding, obviously I was very impressed with the piece. It's a beautiful piece. I love the song and I was actually very open to the challenge. I just wanted to make sure I did it well enough to do the song some justice. Now shooting these scenes being surrounded by actual musicians was awe-inspiring and-

John: Really? You really? Oh.

Aldis: Man, it was terrifying.

Chris: Yeah where did this rank among the scarier things you've done on the show? Where would you put this?

Aldis: This is the top right here.

Chris: This is the top right here.

John: So not running on top of a moving train.

[Laughter]

Aldis: Not at all man.

John: Really? That was fine, but this? This was terrifying.

Aldis: I'm a nut man, I'm a nut. I can do that because-

John: I can tell you as your executive producer with an insurance policy on you, you can do this whenever you want, don't do the train again.

Aldis: I shan't! I shall not.

Chris: And this actor, Michael Winther, fantastic New York stage actor who came in and did an amazing job. It was originally written I think he was Spanish and then I asked Michael-

John: Well you were kinda basing it on Dudamel.

Chris: Exactly it was based on Gustavo Dudamel who was the Venezuelan, kind of, rockstar conductor of the LA Philharmonic.

Aldis: Oh yeah.

Chris: Yeah, and Michael said that he could do German and I thought well there's nothing more intimidating than someone talking to you with a German accent.

Aldis: German accent, yeah.

John: Really?

Chris: And he was just great.

John: Even if it's like ‘I would like some hugs now,’ still it's creepy, it's not- yeah.

[Laughter]

John: Apologies, and now the angry letters from people with a German accent will be coming in.

Aldis: Exactly, you'll be getting a letter from the government.

John: A nice stall, you can't get it too far. And, you know, this again is kinda focusing on how everyone does things. Parker needs paper. Parker needs plans. Parker needs drawings. This is how she thinks. She was trained by an old school thief, and it's cool cause we're kinda hinting at the thing you're gonna find out in episode 5, like how she was trained, you know, trained by an old school thief, she thinks like an old school thief.

Aldis: Yeah

John: And then we do the fun- and this is, when you're constructing something based on a high concept, the fun of it was we have an impossible heist, stuff rolls back from that. Okay if it's impossible, that means we have to see the planning, we have to see the surveillance, we have to see the surveillance to establish to the audience the rules of the heist. 

Chris: Right.

John: Cause you had already said, and I will say the first thing you said to me was ‘I wanna do a heist where there's no words.’

Chris: Yes.

John: And I said ‘You're out of your mind and it's unshootable’. I actually utterly dismissed you, and then you came back like, ‘We do it this way.’ And I was like, ‘Alright, that’s slightly less insane.’ But that required the rest of the episode to do an enormous amount of work.

Chris: Yeah, you need to know- once you got to the heist, you need to know exactly what people were doing and why, without any dialogue. And so- and that kinda required that the heist needed to be fairly simple.

John: Yes.

Chris: So, you know, that kinda was a little bit liberating for me, cause once I realized, OK, I drew this corridor, you know, we had to get past this keypad, and then there was a room, we had to blow a hole in the floor, it was like from a to b to c, as long as I made it fairly simple and easy to remember in the planning stages, we could carry it out. 

John: And this is also one of the great things about physical production. You actually flew up and scouted this, right? 

Chris: Yeah, we did.

John: You adjusted the heist based around the physical location.

Chris: Yeah well, we built this hallway here-

John: Is that a build? I thought it was a-

Chris: This is the hardest working hallway in show business.

John: I thought it was the hallway on the other side of the concert hall?

Chris: No, no.

Aldis: No, me and Chrisitan built it ourselves.

John: Oh that's where Elizabetta was. That's right, there you go. 

Chris: That’s right.

John: Yeah, now we're establishing the rules, and a little hint there that Nnamdi is not your ordinary thug. 

Chris: Yeah.

Aldis: Yes.

John: Yeah, just that little wince. 

Chris: And here, again, you know, it was we had plans in front of Tim that he could actually trace the line and that's exactly where you were going. Those are the plans of the set. 

John: Those are the plans for the set?

Chris: Yeah. 

Aldis: Yeah!

John: That’s great!

Chris: I mean that showed him, he could draw- I showed him here's where you draw the hole, that’s where it’s gonna be.

John: Yeah and big props to Bekka Melino and everybody in production design this year. That vault looked gorgeous. 

Chris: Yeah, it did.

John: Everything looked gorgeous, you know, set dec.

Chris: I have to give her credit for something else in that too. In the original script, the locker numbers in the vault were numbered; they were just numbered. And she called me up and said, ‘What do you think if we made like some kind of symbol or something for them, and maybe like musical terms?’ And I said, ‘That's fantastic.’ And it kinda helped build the character of Moto as someone who is just, you know, obsessed with music.

Aldis: Appreciates music.

John: Yeah. 

Chris: And here's where-

Aldis: This is a tough thing, a tough deal for me. Not me personally, but for Hardison because of the fact that- I mean, this is a big deal trying to walk away from a mission with such reasonable cause. 

Chris: Right.

Aldis: Only because of the fact that he's afraid, it's not because his life is endangered, it's simply because he's afraid. 

Chris: Did you feel like that was- I mean, but performing without being prepared is like the, sort of, go to nightmare that people have, right?

John: Only if you were pantless could this be worse.

Aldis: Exactly, it's also the fact that if he performs poorly he could mess up the entire heist.

Chris: Yes

Aldis: But he was more afraid of himself performing badly then messing up the heist. And-

John: It's an interesting look into the character, because he's a perfectionist and he tends to- he’s tended to take the path he has in life because he's been able to be good at it.

Aldis: Yes.

Chris: Right.

John: You know, it's always interesting once you're past school and once you're an adult when you try to do things, you try to learn a new skill once you're out of your teens, and you realize ‘Oh, this is very hard.‘

Aldis: Yeah it's like learning violin.

John: Yeah exactly.

Aldis: As an adult, as I am doing now.

John: Really hard. But no, you just couldn't drop Scheherezade on you.

Chris: Here's a great-

John: This is a great shot actually, because we actually never shot this. This was footage of them actually getting into place.

Chris: Yes.

John: From the dailies that we had when we rolled the camera on. And that we wound up assembling together into a shot and then digitally placing the conductor into the middle of it.

Chris: Oh yeah, when we get to the later shot of the conductor there, that was- that’s totally digital. This the- orchestra is Marshall Tuttle is the conductor of the orchestra, it’s a local Portland community college orchestra. And they, you know, I have to give a lot of props to them because they got the music and they had to mock play the piece, but that meant they had to prepare for it, they had to know. 

Aldis: Yeah I actually learned from them that day the rest of the piece. I mean all I knew up to that point was the solo. Until they said- and I knew bits and pieces of the other music until they said, ‘Hey, so we actually wanna shoot you playing the, you know, the bit before stuff.’ I’m like, ‘Right now, guys?’ 

John: Oh yes, a surprise by the way.

Aldis: Surprise! 

John: This quick thing, they're gonna pop the camera on you there as you do this thing you just learned how to do.

Aldis: So I was just watching my fellow musicians around me as we shot, I was just watching their fingers and going off of them but hopefully you can’t tell.

John: That's a great little shake, that head shake like, ‘No, let's not get too heavily invested’.

Aldis: That was a real head shake that was ‘I do not wanna shoot this scene right now.’

[Laughter]

John: Could we please stop?

Aldis: None of the trepidation in this is faked, it’s real fear people. Real fear. 

[Laughter]

Aldis: I dreaded this more than anything.

Chris: So there was less acting in this than typical episodes because you actually had fear.

Aldis: The fear yes, no acting at all, man, it was not hard to be afraid. At all. Whatsoever.

John: And here's Elizabetta, and it was interesting- I will be totally honest we knew we needed stuff for the finale-

Chris: Yeah.

John: And no idea what we needed it to be yet.

Chris: Right and right. And also to a certain degree, you know, when you have a MacGuffin, you know an item I want you to get, and you struggle as to what it could be, and we did struggle, we argued what is- what's in the envelope? And ultimately it's pretty cool when you don't know what it is.

John: Yeah it's point blank. It’s- yeah.

Chris: And you know we don't want to give anything away, but it did help us in the finale.

John: Yeah, well they've seen it by now, in theory. 

Chris: Oh, okay.

John: Usually they watch all the way through and then do the commentaries.

Chris: That’s fine then. So that's fine, I'm not a spoiler.

Aldis: So what was in the envelope, fellows?

John: In the envelope is the evidence that the Italian needs because she's part of the shadowy international intelligence organization that launders money through Moto’s blood diamond accounts.

Chris: Yes.

John: And yeah that's actually- if you do a lot of research in money laundering, we did a lot of money laundering this year. 

Aldis: Yes we did.

John: You find out that a lot of sort of black ops stuff, and a lot of the governments- there's a reason it's still around. You know governments find it useful, you know, and certain parts of governments find money laundering, international money laundering useful.

Chris: And here we go now we start- we start the clock and the dialogue is about to end pretty quickly.

John: Yeah I think we did like two touches, two clarifying things once we test screened it.

Chris: Yeah.

Aldis: We did an entire fourth act with just pure music.

Chris: Yeah, this is it here, we go.

John: Yeah this is it. Nnamdi did a great job in this, by the way, I want to say, because he's acting without dialogue and that's hard, you know, for a young actor. 

Aldis: It’s like stare at this paper bag and make it interesting.

John: Yeah, exactly.

Chris: And I have to give Brian Gonosey here, our editor, a lot of credit here, too, because this was like editing a music video, because this was- we had to kinda time this stuff to the music, and this was, you know, this- in listening to the piece, you know, in my mind I had punching in numbers for this part, cause I could hear it in my head, and-

Aldis: Now this-

Chris: And now- oh.

Aldis: No, I’m sorry, go ahead.

Chris: Well this is just when you have an all pro quarterback from the NFL on your show, and you have Christian Kane who is a gigantic football fan, you're gonna have him knock him down in full run.

Aldis: Now Christian really took that hit.

Chris: He sure did folks.

John: He hit that wall hard, baby!

Aldis: This man is paid to hit people.

[Laughter]

John: Beth took this hit too.

Aldis: Yeah.

Chris: She did take that hit.

Aldis: She took it like a trooper.

John: Wait where'd- Chris played football for a while, what was he, tailback? What was Chris?

Chris: Well I know, back in high school, yeah.

Aldis: He played in it, and he wrestled, too. Nnamdi is a big guy.

John: Nnamdi is a big guy.

Aldis: He's like 6’ 4” something, 6’ 6”?

Chris: And he wanted to do all his own stunts and we were like, ‘Please, we do not want Al Davis on our ass.’

[Laughter]

John: ‘I'm sorry, did you hurt the greatest quarterback in the NFL in your little pretend show this weekend?’

Chris: He's like, ‘You know what the stunt mans doing? I can do that!’ And we said, ‘We know! Please don’t!’

Aldis: Now the NFL owns Leverage.

John: We’d have a bigger budget, that'd be alright. 

[Laughter]

John: And then now down through the floor, this was fun playing around with- thank you Mythbusters, playing around with directional blowouts, and thermite and all the other sort of how to- oh that's a- and Nnamdi won't go down. 

Chris: No, he won’t.

John: We were- this- he’s the thug who ate his Wheaties.

Aldis: I think that's a great part about this entire sequence and just the character in general is: cause he finally- somebody gave Eliot a challenge, a real challenge you know. It was kinda like the season finale for the first season.

John: But that guy had technique, you know, that was the thing. What Eliot is facing right now is another dude who kills people professionally.

Aldis: Yeah.

John: You know, and just with power. It's also fun cause it’s- all Eliot/Parker scenes are inherently fun.

Chris: And here, and this was all built around the music. We knew this was gonna- we were gonna build to- there's a giant gong hit here and that was gonna be- that was the whole thing was timed to the explosion and now one of the words ‘boom’.

Aldis: We really blew a hole in a floor and let Nnamdi fall through? He was a trooper, he took it?

John: Yes, please don’t tell the Raiders.

Chris: Please don't tell Al Davis.

Aldis: I'm kidding, guys. Kinda.

John: This was actually shot later, we actually rebuilt the ceiling and then dropped it in later.

Chris: Yeah, it’s great.

John: They did a great job because they- it was like ‘We need you to build that ceiling that we built a couple episodes, but put a hole in it.’ Like, ‘Alright.’ Yeah. And Nate being in the middle of it unexpectedly is a wonderful development.

Chris: Even this, all this all the editing was just timed perfectly to the music as he pulls, Walle is his character, pulls into the corner. And here it is.

John: That's a nice beat, actually, was Sophie- that's a nice choice by Gina, Sophie being totally confident because she knows, she's already in on the hypnosis thing. So she's already ahead of it, and what that was meant to be encouraging. 

Chris: Now here it is. 

Aldis: [Humming the song]

Chris: And, you know, I have to say my wife, violinist, gives you huge props here for your fingering and your bow work.

Aldis: Thank you. You do realize this song haunted me as I was practicing and preparing for it? It literally was playing in my head when no other sound was on in the room. I painted a picture called The Scheherazade. I painted the notes themselves because I had to get it outta my head. It was-

Chris: That’s great.

John: Where's the painting?

Aldis: It’s still back in Portland waiting for me to get back to it.

John: Nice.

Chris: Now what kind of response did you get from people when this aired?

Aldis: A lot of musicians actually said I did a good job, which I was proud about. I was- I was more concerned about how musicians would take it. Because they know what to look for, and as I watched I was like, ‘Alright,’ you know, cringing, but a lot of them they really, really dug it.

John: Well you always see the flaws in your performance, you know.

Aldis: Yeah of course because I’m looking for it, as the actor. By the way, this scene when Beth has the tear, that wasn't a tear she just had allergies, but played to her strengths and- right there the yeah.

John: It's just the smoke and stuff, the allergies.

Aldis: Very dusty, you know, we just kept it, we kept it. I’m kidding Beth’s a great actress, she did that on her own.

Chris: She’s fantastic. She did that, I mean, that's pretty amazing. 

Aldis: Yeah was that her choice there?

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah, that wasn’t in the script.

Chris: And we didn't have a lot of time for that, too, we were really running out of time for that scene and they, boy were they great reacting to it.

Aldis: The boy did it! Uh!

[Laughter]

Aldis: Y'all know what this is! Sexual chocolate!

John: We’re gonna have to make t-shirts now, I hope.

Aldis: We are gonna have to make t-shirts.

Chris: Now in the original script, you got a girl's phone number; we had to cut it for time but there was.

John: Sexy violinists.

Aldis: It's alright, Hardison gets numbers.

Chris: You know, Hardison, we've been trying to hook you up and I'm sorry we ran out of time.

John: Well, you know that's alright, there's- I don't think the fans would like the girl.

Aldis: I think if I ever got hooked up, fans would just murder Hardison because-

John: They would not be happy.

Aldis: They're waiting on Parker.

John: Well also, you know, and what's interesting is: you've kind of changed looks since the first season. You were a very skinny kid when you came in that first season. You turned 21 the night we hired you.

Aldis: Yeah 21, I'm 24 now.

John: Yeah, you put a little man weight on you now.

Aldis: Man weight, shaved the whiskers a little bit, try to give you a little something different each year. Next year I'm gonna come in about 250 pounds.

John: Nice, maybe with a cane cause you can't quite walk, you got the gout.

Aldis: Cankles baby.

John: Rock the gout. This is brutal- just looking for the rematch.

Chris: I love the look.

John: Every time I see this, I try to figure out a way to bring that character back.

Chris: Can we bring him back?

John: Seriously man, that look as he rolls forward is like, I want that rematch.

Chris: You know he makes more money than everyone in- you know, I mean he's- he’ll fly out on a private jet and come do it.

John: Just I gotta figure out something. And then I remember cause it was great, cause- I was actually out of town and then you shot this, and I didn’t see anything until I saw the first cut of this. I didn't see any dailies and so I saw the first cut of this and when he rolled forward that time I'm like ‘Oh! No wait, I know there's no rematch’ but-

Aldis: Yeah.

John: It’s- it was fun it was being able to watch this episode as a fan was a big treat.

Chris: Yeah, and here it was trying to pay off the Scheherezade story by having Nate make up something on the fly.

John: Yeah, it's the- thematically it yeah it starts with a con, it has a heist in the middle, and ends with a con.

Chris: Ends with a con.

Aldis: Yeah.

John: And you just the balls- the sheer stones it takes, ‘I have no idea what's in this.’

Chris: Yeah, right?

John: Just absolute sheer stones. To just bet on a sealed deck. We actually talked about that, we had played around with poker episodes and just what kind of- we talked at length- and it's one of those things that will never wind up in the show but we wind up talking in the room, what kind of gambler Nate is. And Nate is a guy who will bet on whole cards he hasn't seen.

Chris: Right, yes.

John: Yeah which is not necessarily the smartest thing in the world, but that’s that guy.

Aldis: He's the kind of guy who loses all his money first at the table, but eventually gains a couple chips back.

John: Yeah, yeah. Or manages to just be luckier than smarter, but smart enough to know he's lucky.

Chris: And I have to say Marcel Davis here played Simian Moto the president, and did an amazing job. I mean he's a local Portland actor. 

John: Yeah, really- Portland. Never disappoints, Portland is a great place with great actors.

Chris: Now you can kinda see Gina slipping in there. It was- I know we had a couple of comments.

John: We had ten people on that set!

Chris: It was hard.

John: She's that black shape that kinda moves in with the secret service.

Aldis: I just saw her slip in there, keep your eyes open.

Chris: Keep your eyes open folks. She had- apparently she had a great time assembling this gun.

John: She was kinda rocking out the Helen Mirren in RED there.

Chris: She was.

John: She was really kinda- that was hot. She did- I watched the dailies on that like eight times, come on, she's very good at this. And the gloat, the drag out, the gloat.

Chris: The gloat and the drag away.

John: Very nice and the president. Oh Nnamdi wants to go! Let them go! Let them fight! That drinking game for Enter the Dragon. It’s like every time.

Chris: There we go, another time we’ll bring him back.

Aldis: Let's just send this out to all the Oakland raiders fans and see if they put in a vote, do you want Nnamdi back?

Chris: Do you wanna see Nnamdi back, please?

Aldis: Let's see what happens.

John: Promised by the DVD. Yeah. 

Aldis: I feel it'll be promising.

John: And this was a nice set up, and again it was interesting because she had such the upper hand in the first episode, this is the one where Chris really kinda reset that, yeah, Nate Ford is not a patsy. 

Chris: Yeah.

John: You know he is- there's a reason they’re using him. He's a dangerous guy, and he's become more of a dangerous guy this year because he's acknowledged who he is. Last year this would've played out differently.

Chris: Yeah, no it was- you know, the sequence was flirty, dangerous, a little bit of banter then she puts the screws to him and then he puts the screws to her here.

John: Yeah cause he knows. He knows, he dealt with these types of people, you know, he's not ignorant of exactly how big a game he's playing in right now. Great, great shot. She- this is a 1960s shot, that shot right there, I really love this. And she's got a very classic late 60s look and that was interesting because we used it- we actually called the character the Italian as shorthand because it was an archetype from the 60s, and then when she came on the show we were trying to come up with a name it's like, we're not gonna beat The Italian. 

Chris: No no, it’s the best.

John: Just keep it there. And it kinda kept her in the headspace, when we wrote the scripts it kept her in that zone.

Aldis: And when she happened to actually be Italian!

John: We started with that, that was the-

Aldis: Ahhh, ohhh, ahhhh!

John: Did we not explain that to you?

Aldis: Ahhhh!

John: We just happened to get Elisabetta. Yeah, there you go.

Aldis: There go- ahhh!

Chris: And this is a nice kind of close out to, you know we sort of set up earlier that Eliot has some regrets of things that he may have done back when he was a soldier. Things he saw in Africa. And I thought Tim had a nice ad lib here, cause he kinda indicated that it was Eliot's idea to provide money for kids in the community based on them selling the violin.

John: And that's- and yeah it was another thing, too, as we moved into the third season of, why are these people still together. You know the second year they had realized they were family but were not emotionally evolved enough to explain, to acknowledge that. Third year where they are together and you begin to see- you know Hardison sees this as his crime college. And he loves these people, but this is his crime college. You know, Eliot is beginning to see the path to his redemption. You know, Nate is the acknowledgement of his identity. Parker is becoming a human being. You know, everyone has their reason they're there. You know, Sophie's reason to be there is basically, she had come back to run the crew while Nate was in prison. And to be acknowledged as the co-lead. This is a great scene. By the way, you play this wonderfully, this is a big turn here.

Chris: Yeah.

Aldis: Thanks.

Chris: It was- you know this was a tricky reveal here because- and I'll say that on the hypnosis front I consulted with a hypnotist-

[Laughter]

Chris: This is not just me making stuff up out of thin air.

John: I'm the one to make stuff up out of thin air, Chris actually researches shit.

Chris: And in fact, the hypnotist said to me that if somebody had a- was extremely proficient in something at an early age, whether it was athletics or music, that he could put someone in a deep trance state and return them to their ability, that their life experience is kinda what's gotten in the way of their ability, that it's all up there in their head. And that's all that we’re saying here, we’re not saying that he made you- Nate made Hardison able to play, Hardison always knew how to play, it was just cleaning out the cobwebs to get you back.

Aldis: Right.

John: Also Sophie's- Gina's playing that complicitness in a really nice way, which is she went with it, she didn't like it, and she doesn't necessarily like what Nate’s become. Also fun, you had really focused on this is, during the research, the idea that prison is a bad idea for most criminals. Most criminals just go in and become better criminals. It's- they call it crime college, you know, and what tricks had Nate picked up while he was inside.

Chris: And look ultimately that the one of the things that makes Nate able to run this crew from- is that he's not a nice guy. And that he will push any button to get whatever he wants done. And that makes him, I think, a better leader, and a more interesting character than if he's just you know got your back every time you're in trouble.

John: We cannot say this enough: Nate Ford is not a nice man. 

Chris: Yeah.

Aldis: Right.

John: But that's what's required in the world that we set up in this show. And that's Scheherezade Job! Amazing job, both of you. I really wanna say this, I came to this as a viewer and this is one of my favorite episodes of the season, and of the entire run.

Aldis: It's one of my favorites.

John: I told the first time I watched this, I told Chris I wish my name was on it. I wish that I had the ‘Written by’ credit.

Chris: And you, you know I made a little comment to you back in season one, and boy did you make me happy.

Aldis: It happened. 

John: It’s great.

Aldis: Well thank you man I enjoyed it. The script was one of my best scripts, one of my favorite scripts from the entire three seasons, so.

John: Thanks man.

Chris: Thanks.

John: Alright stay tuned more coming up.

Aldis: Peace.

[thechekhov]

Hello! I've started learning russian a few days ago (I've managed to understand most of the alphabet, yaaayy!!) I come from a somewhat slavic country so it's not as bad as say, my monolingual friends, but it's still harsh on me. Any tips on how to understand and learn it better? And also maybe how to stay motivated in learning it?

Good job learning the alphabet! It’s really fun to be able to read another set of characters. :) But from here on out, I’m gonna disappoint you I’m afraid.

I am a native Russian speaker. Meaning I learned Russian as my L1 - my first native language. And the first rule of learning a language is “don’t ask native speakers how to learn their language”. Almost every time, they will not be able to give you any useful advice.

Why? Because people who have learned the language as babies never learned it the way YOU are learning it. To them, it was an inevitability, an instinct, something they don’t even remember doing but was essential to them. Can you imagine NOT learning a language as a child? Baby brains are wired to do nothing BUT learn languages. For a good reason, too. 

[Description: Two humanoid figures are standing on either side of a baby-like figure on the flood. The figure on the left is wearing a purple dress. The figure on the right is wearing a red shirt and shorts. The baby is in light blue.

Purple dress figure: Хочешь тортик? Ползи к маме.

Red shirt figure: Хочешь чтоб я оплатил тебе универ в США? Ползи сюда.

Baby: Understanding these people is the key to my survival.]

You speak English at a native level - presumably you learned it as a child. But does that make you qualified to teach English to those who can’t speak it? Most likely not - because all you remember about learning the language is that you went to school and did some grammar drills. The truth is, you were already functionally fluent by age 6. And that experience can’t be applied to an adult learning from zero. Your learning paths will be different. 

My best advice is - find someone who ALSO learned Russian as a second language and ask them. Ask them for books, for materials, for movies to watch, for podcasts to listen to, etc. Ask what helped them and what didn’t. Your source materials should be by native speakers, yes - but your advice on how to navigate those materials should be from someone like you - a person who learned as an adult.

And after you are able to understand basic conversation, THEN you should seek out native speakers and ask them to speak with you, ask for their book/movie recommendations. 

As for how to stay motivated... well, this one I can help with in a general sense because I’ve learned several languages since my first one:

IMMERSE YOURSELF. GIVE YOURSELF NO CHOICE. TRAP YOURSELF IN RUSSIAN WITH NO WAY OUT BUT THROUGH.

Sounds terrifying, I know, but hear me out - learning needs a reason. We acquired knowledge to use for SOMETHING. Our brains are built to absorb info we might someday use. (I hear you all screaming ‘How are 1001 shark facts going to be useful? I don’t even live near the ocean! My brain is shit at this!’ and yes, I know, shhh, I know.) This is the reason humans are so wired to learn their first language (as per my first graphic). Essentially, you need to NEED the language, just like you did as a baby.

What I mean is, if you try to learn a language only to then use it once a week, your brain will protest that you’re wasting your time.

[Description: A torso shot of a humanoid figure is shown, with its head comically opened up like a lid, showing the brain inside. The figure is holding something written in cyrillic (Russian) up to the brain as if to hand it over.

Person: Please take this.

Brain: What?! What is that thing?

Person: It’s Russian. I wanna learn it.

Brain: ...are we USING it?

Person: Yeah, once a week for an hour!

Brain: Once?! A week?

The last panel is a closeup of a brain. Despite lacking any facial features, who angry eyebrows have materialized over it’s wrinkled forefront.]

It ain’t gonna fly. Your brain needs more motivation, even if the motivation is fake. What I mean by Immersion is not ‘move to siberia’ although that’s certainly an option.

What I mean is - force yourself to watch your favorite netflix shows ONLY in Russian. Force yourself to watch soviet cartoons before bed (it’s good for your heart.) Even if you don’t understand anything, listen to Russian podcasts. Read Russian children’s books. Have pretend-conversations with yourself while cooking. Write post-it notes in Russian. Change your phone to Russian. 

Fool your brain into believing that this is information that WILL be here to stay and your brain will oblige you the data space. 

But seriously - don’t ask me. I have no idea how I got here! 

[writerpeach]

Shutter

Fromis_9 Saerom x Male Reader

5223 words

Categories: smut, oral, model! saerom

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

It’s not every day that a model walked into your studio who by every definition of the word, was perfect.

Dozens of gorgeous women came by each and every week, each one more beautiful than the last and you couldn’t ask for a better job.

The elevator doors opened and the woman scheduled for your afternoon appointment stepped inside your studio on the ninth floor, and you had never seen such an attractive woman with such stunning features.

Calling her gorgeous would almost be an insult. Words could not and would not do her beauty justice, or would be enough to describe how attractive she was.

She had dark shoulder-length hair and walked with confidence in an elegant looking black and grey dress and her sexy aura filled the studio.

“Hello, I’m Saerom!” she shyly introduced herself, a small smile on her rosy red lips and you melted just by hearing her voice.

“Nice to meet you, Saerom,” you replied.

“Please take care of me,” she said and bowed politely. Her hair and makeup styled perfectly, nothing looked out of place and the smile on her face only made her look even more beautiful.

“Shall we get started, Miss Saerom?”

Saerom nodded and you directed her to the set as you still had a few things to set up beforehand. She stood against the white backdrop, eyes roaming the bright lights and other equipment spewed everywhere, tripods and lights all ensuring that each model looked as best as you could make them look.

You readied your camera and glanced at Saerom, realizing how busty she was and what a curvy deadly body her dress showed off.

“Ready when you are,” you said as you removed your lens cap, giving one final check to all your equipment hoping to somehow do justice to the actual goddess standing in front of you.

Saerom flashed her best smile as you pressed the camera shutter and took the first shot of the shoot, capturing her beauty as best as possible. Her side profile was perfect, her features flawless in a way that they had been sculpted by the gods. Her striking jawline, her cute nose, her perfectly formed lips. The ideal woman put together as if to say it won’t get better than this.

Your finger moved faster than a cheetah hunting a prey, taking hundreds of shots per minute as Saerom displayed a variety of poses and facial expressions, each one perfect in their own way.

“How am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re doing amazing. The camera loves you.”

Truer words had never come out of your mouth. Saerom behind a camera was a natural fit, her smile beaming with confidence, every pose and angle flawless as she was. After all, when you’re being paid to be beautiful for a living you’ve really made it.

“Make sure to capture my best side.”

“You don’t have a bad side,” you responded. Saerom blushed cutely.

Two hours flew by, Saerom’s experience playing a huge part and even with makeup touch-ups and additional wardrobe changes there was time to spare.

“That should be a wrap. Thank you for your hard work, Miss Saerom” you said. You never wanted to stop taking pictures of her and definitely took more than necessary, but more was always better than less.

“Can I see some?” Saerom eagerly asked.

“It’ll take some time to get them all transferred and processed if you don't mind waiting,” you said as you removed the card from your camera and slipped it inside your laptop on the nearby table.

“Not at all! I’ll wait over here,” she said as she took a seat on the nearby black leather couch.

You had taken literally thousands of pictures and it would take some time to add them all, much less edit them. Sorting quickly through a handful of different outfits and looks you picked the best ones, doing a quick edit on them before transferring them over to the large monitor next to your laptop.

You gestured for Saerom to come over and she scurried over right away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked through the handpicked batch of pictures, proud of the hard work both of you had put in and the satisfying results.

“You’re an amazing photographer,” she shyly said.

“An artist is only as good as their art,” you replied, almost regretting spewing out such a cheesy line but earning another smile out of Saerom.

“We still have some time left don’t we?” she asked. Most of your appointments were scheduled in three-hour blocks, allowing plenty of time for preparations and in case something went wrong. And something almost always went wrong.

“You are correct, Miss Saerom.”

“Perfect. Can you shoot some more of me then?”

“I’d love to.”

Saerom returned to the set, the look on her face uncertain as you went to set up your camera again.

“I don’t have any more outfits to wear,” she said, unsure of herself.

“There’s a closet in the corner with spare outfits, I don’t know your size but they should fit.”

Saerom hesitated for a moment. “That won’t be necessary.”

In a moment’s notice, Saerom acted on impulse and shedded her dress, baring her immaculate body and the incredibly sexy pair of matching lace black lingerie underneath. You weren’t expecting this moment of spontaneity and your jaw dropped.

“What?” she smirked. “You’ve shot women in lingerie before haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“Then you won’t mind me getting more comfortable will you?”

“N-not at all-”

“Good.”

Saerom continued with a playful smile and kicked her heels off to the side, leaving her standing in the middle of the set barefoot in her underwear, the insane curves of her tight body front and center for your viewing pleasure.

Her full breasts were barely covered, showing abundant cleavage and the flimsy piece of lace did little to contain them, showing off the size of her perfect chest as if they wanted to escape from their prison. Her gorgeous legs led up to soft creamy thighs, and Saerom’s toned abs looked as delicious as the rest of her body, clearly the result of hours of work at the gym.

"Incredible," you said in awe.

"Like what you see?" Saerom asked with a cute giggle. You found yourself speechless.

"I've always wanted to be an underwear model. My company would never let me though, they love protecting my image," Saerom said sarcastically as her eyes rolled.

"You certainly have the perfect body for it."

"Thank you," Saerom said as her cheeks reddened. "I work very hard for it."

"It shows."

Saerom switched from shy and cute to sexy instantaneously as she flipped her hair seductively, running her hands through it as she lifted her arms over her head. Your camera shutter went crazy as you started shooting your newly undressed model, not wanting to waste a second.

"How do I look?" she asked as she bit her lip.

"You're very sexy, Saerom."

"Am I? How about some closeup shots then?"

Without even responding you practically ripped your heavy camera from its tripod as you detached it, closing the distance between you Saerom, taking a deep breath as you approached.

“Think of these as exclusive shots. Just for us,” Saerom said, showing off to the camera.

While the previous shoot was rather professional, Saerom was rather quiet for the majority of it, focusing on her poses and angles. Now that she was opening up in more ways than one you wanted to get to know her.

“Tell me something about yourself, Saerom.”

“What would you like to know?” she asked, pouting her lips at the camera.

“Something...interesting.”

“Interesting?” she pondered. “I share a place with eight other girls.”

“Eight? That’s insane. I can’t imagine how long the line for the bathroom is.”

“You get used to it, it becomes fun most of the time. Having time on my own like this is actually kind of weird for me now.”

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Saerom laughed and you could tell she was becoming more comfortable around you,

“It was difficult at first but I think I would be bored living by myself now,” Saerom said as she spun around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips, bending over enough to give a good look at her plump round ass as her eyes kept contact with your camera, trying to keep your pants from tightening.

“Fuck, you have a really nice ass, Saerom,” you blurted out even without thinking. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks. It’s my favorite part of me,” she proudly said.

You couldn’t stop staring at Saerom’s heavenly sculpted backside, wondering how soft those cheeks felt, but you quickly tried chasing those thoughts away as you didn’t want a bulge forming in your pants in front of her.

“You’re one of the best models I’ve had the pleasure to work with,” you said, distracting yourself.

“Really? You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“I’m not. Most models that show up don’t give me any trouble, occasionally you’ll get a spoiled diva that shows up late and clearly doesn’t want to be here and it ruins the atmosphere of the whole shoot.”

You made sure to get closeup shots of every part of Saerom’s body, taking extra care in framing her ass perfectly before walking to the front of her sexy body and taking several shots of her wonderful breasts.

“But you walked in and this whole place lit up.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s the truth.”

Saerom paused. “What do you think?” Saerom asked, cupping her breasts. You felt your heart racing.

“They’re perfect.”

“How about a closer view then?” she asked. You zoomed in and aimed at her chest, but Saerom shyly smiled and aimed your camera down.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before you could put any thought into her words Saerom reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, divesting it from her body as she exposed her sizable pale breasts, bouncing as they were freed.  

“Holy shit, Saerom.”

“How about you put that camera down and we have a little fun?”

Without having a chance to respond you got rid of your camera as Saerom’s topless body walked towards you, your eyes immediately drawn to her full round breasts and salivating over them.

“Do any of your models ever let you touch them?”

“I try to keep things professional.”

“That’s boring,” Saerom said with a seductive smirk as she grabbed your hands and guided them to her breasts, helping you squeeze them. You moaned at their softness and how they fit in your hands, the weight of her breasts, and how perfectly shaped they were made you lose your mind.

“You’re so perfect,” you said as you squeezed and groped Saerom’s tits, squeezing two perfect handfuls as her pretty pink nipples hardened against your palms as she looked into your eyes. The fabric of your pants constricted and there was no stopping it this time.

“You can touch all you want. Taste me.”

“I will,” you said hungrily as you crashed your lips against hers and wrapped your hands around her bare waist, The taste of Saerom’s cherry lips entered your mouth. You pulled her in tighter as she returned your advances, tongues dancing together as the scent of her perfume lingered in the air. You wanted Saerom, bad. You wanted to rip her panties off and fuck her against your set, forcing to pace yourself and keep yourself under control.

You broke the kiss and exchanged lustful stares, not wasting a second as you dove into her breasts, licking stripes up and down her cleavage, and brought your mouth to her tits and teased her sensitive nipples. Saerom moaned as you flicked delicate circles around each one before sucking tenderly, earning gasps and whiny moans.

Schedules be damned, you took your time with each of her breasts, giving each equal attention and not leaving your hands from her flesh, not moving on until her hard nipples were covered in your saliva.

“Mmm, fuck,” Saerom moaned, caressing your hair as you devoured and buried yourself in her tits. Playful licking turned into loud slurping, and when that wasn’t enough you nibbled on each of her swollen pink nubs, grazing on her stiff nipples in between your teeth gently as her moans grew louder and whinier.

With all of your attention on Saerom’s tits, you sucked and sucked with no intention of stopping until your lips were numb, looking up every so often to see the pleasure running through Saerom.

Meanwhile, with your mouth full of Saerom’s breasts you felt a hand move down to your crotch and squeezed as she felt you up through your pants which became painfully tight.

“I must be turning you on,” she giggled.

“You are, you really are. Fuck, you’re so hot, Saerom,” you growled.

“I could say the same to you,” she said. “I got you all worked up, didn’t I? It’s only fair I do something about it.”

Saerom stopped you in your tracks and led you over to the couch, playfully pushing you against it as you fell down and took a seat. Slowly lowering to her knees she rubbed up and down your thighs, biting her lip, watching as you removed your shirt in preparation.

“How many women have you fucked on this couch?”

“Not enough,” you smirked.

“Time to add one more to your tally then.”

With a sly grin on her pretty face, Saerom unzipped your pants, quickly yanking them with your boxers down to your ankles with your assistance. Your cock sprang free, throbbing in the cold air and Saerom’s eyes went wide at the sight of it.

Saerom licked her lips, feeling an insatiable desire and hunger deep inside her at the sight of your unleashed manhood. As she admired your rock hard shaft, finding herself unable to draw her eyes away as her long slender fingers wrapped tightly around your hard cock, applying firm pressure and began stroking you up and down, feeling every inch.

“You have a very nice cock,” Saerom said, lips curling wide as she pumped you slowly and drizzled her fingers with your leaking pre-cum. She kissed the very tip of your cock, making your whole body jerk as her soft lips explored your cock and traveled down your base.

Every kiss on your shaft was loaded with hunger, and once Saerom reached the end of your cock she flattened her tongue against your base while you watched her every move. You moaned as her wet warm tongue moved slowly up and down your shaft, giving delicate strokes until she found your sensitive tip and swirled around your swollen head, lapping up every leaking drop.

“Yummy,” she said, spitting on your cock several times and spreading it all over your shaft, jerking you off and keeping eye contact.

Saerom kissed your tip one more time before she parted her plump red lips with your cock, taking the first few inches of you into her warm wet mouth.

“Oh f-fuuck,” you moaned loudly as Saerom hollowed her cheeks and sealed her lips tight around your cock. Saerom sucked you off slowly and tenderly while her sexy gaze was glued to you, full lips sliding up and down your shaft.

With constant eye contact Saerom built up your pleasure, taking her time with sucking your cock, enjoying it just as much as she moaned around your shaft.

“Fuck, Saerom," you moaned and threw your head back."That feels fucking good."

She smiled with your cock in her mouth, the bright studio lights letting you see her face perfectly as she began to bob her head up and down, her tongue playing with the underside of your shaft.

Saerom upped her pace as she swallowed more of your cock inside her warm mouth, the redness of her lips fading as her dark lipstick began smearing on your shaft, combined with streaks of her spit.

Her pretty hands did not stay idle, using one to stroke up and down your thigh, digging her nails in as the other cupped and fondled your balls.

“So heavy and full," she said as her nose nudged against your cock and planted messy wet kisses on your balls."I'll make sure they’re empty when I'm done with you."

Saerom continued to pleasure your balls while jerking off your needy cock, licking wide stripes, and glazing your sack with drool. She sucked on each one tenderly, giving your balls equal attention and hungrily slurping on them individually as you moaned louder, letting your satisfaction be known.

Using both her lips and tongue all over your balls, Saerom blew hot air against each of them before bringing your cock back into her mouth. Those deadly eyes glued to your own as she sucked slowly from tip to base, swallowing up every last inch as you hit the back of her throat without any real effort.

“Oh god, Saerom…”

The satisfaction in her eyes was obvious as she took you down her mouth with ease, her throat tightening around you as she relaxed her muscles, not even letting out a single gag.

Her soft wet lips felt so good wrapped around your cock, and you instinctively grabbed the back of her head, guiding her movements as she bobbed faster, lips kissing your base with each stroke.

It wasn’t long before you encouraged an even quicker pace, Saerom hungrily slurping down every inch that impaled her throat, desperately trying not to go wild and fuck her throat as much as you wanted to.

Saerom kept your wet shaft deep down her throat, working her muscles and keeping her lips sealed around every inch as she played with your balls, drooling all over your cock.

"Fuck, Saerom. You're so damn good at that."

"I've had a lot of practice."

Saerom hummed and gave your cock one more slow satisfying slurp from base to tip, releasing it with a loud messy pop as she furiously jerked off your messy wet shaft.

Not even bothering to wipe off leftover spit and lipstick on her face, Saerom's lust-filled gaze focused on you as she made you wait in anticipation.

Keeping your cock in her small delicate hands, Saerom carefully made a show of

sliding her panties down her toned legs, tossing them onto your set.

"A little present from me. Keep them."

With barely any time to react, you stole a glance at Saerom's beautiful bare pussy as she straddled you, the warmth of her naked body radiating around you as her comforting thighs rested against your own.

Saerom really was like no other woman, as cliché as it sounded. You could see it in her eyes that she wanted your cock, not just for her own satisfaction but for yours, aching to share in mutual pleasure.

The way she held your cock in her hand, aiming it between her spread thighs and between the pink wet flesh of her pussy, slowly rubbing it against her folds was agonizing, deliberately teasing both of you with a sly expression on her face.

You understood what she was doing as Saerom continued to run your cock through the wet warmth of her hole, but that didn’t make it any less easy to hold out, each sensation running through your body making it harder to maintain an ounce of composure.

“Saerom…”

She didn’t say a word as she collected her slick on your shaft, mixing it with leftover saliva, coating your cock in her fluids. Saerom thankfully shared your impatience and knew when enough was enough.

“I’m so wet,” Saerom bluntly said, the first set of words that left her lips in several minutes.

In what felt like the longest few seconds of your life Saerom lifted her wide hips up in the air, aiming herself carefully, and sank down on the first few inches of your cock.

Saerom gasped loudly and you shared an equally loud groan at the feeling of penetrating her body, the intense sensation of entering her pussy for the first time was unlike anything else. There was a lot to take in. Saerom’s wetness surrounded your cock as expected, followed by extreme warmth and tightness that overwhelmed you.

Gently moving her body up and down Saerom took it easy at first, letting her wet walls be parted with more of your hard cock, clinging tightly around your shaft that gradually disappeared in between her thighs.

“How do I feel?” Saerom asked as she wrapped her hands around the back of your neck, using her hips and sliding up and down your cock, coating more of your shaft in her juices.

“So fucking tight.”

She beamed at your response, sinking deeper and deeper until she almost bottomed herself out and stopped just above the base of your shaft.

“You feel really good inside me.”

Her eyes closed and her head whipped back as you both moaned together and felt her tight walls squeezing you tightly, letting herself get used to the rock hard flesh fully entering her body.

“I need every inch inside me,” Saerom pleaded, not that you were in a position to stop her, letting her control every movement. You watched between her beautiful thighs every move she made as her slick lips gripped your cock, ensuring you never left the warmth of her body.

In one swift movement, Saerom lifted herself from your cock, moving so just the tip of your shaft was inside her, and slammed her hips down and impaled herself to the hilt, moaning at being completely filled.

“Fuck!”

Saerom didn’t allow herself any adjustment, she didn’t need it and neither did you as she smiled devilishly.

“Ride my cock, Saerom,” you demanded and your orders were followed right away as she began bouncing on your dick, her mouth agape as she threw her head back in pleasure. You snaked your hands around her slim waist and grabbed her ass with both hands, kneading the soft flesh and encouraging her to continue dictating the pace.

“Stretch me out...stretch my tight little pussy just like that. Fuck, I wish I could ride you all day.”

“I could always cancel the rest of my appointments.”

“F-fuck, don’t tempt me. But I have my own schedules after this too,” she frowned.

“Guess we’ll have to schedule another session then.”

Saerom nodded in response and your hands squeezed her cheeks tighter, giving her ass a few quick slaps as she gasped, looking at the way she was falling apart already as she rode you.

Continuing to test the waters you gave repeated smacks against Saerom’s plentiful backside, the satisfying sounds of both raised palms striking her bare cheeks filled your ears. Saerom whined cutely in response as her walls clenched around your cock with each impact, not using enough force to sting but just giving her body a little something extra.

“You like being spanked, Saerom?”

“I-I do.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” you smirked. Saerom took the opportunity to increase the pace, allowing herself to adjust and found the perfect angle to take your shaft inside her, bouncing her delicious big ass on your cock.

“You’re drenched, Saerom. Do you always get this wet?” you asked. She hesitated before shyly nodding.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she timidly replied, establishing a harsher rhythm as she rode you with more intensity and fervor, her perfect set of tits bouncing hypnotically with every movement.

“I take full responsibility.”

Settling into the sharp pleasure Saerom gave in to her desires and rode your cock faster, covering the entire surface of your shaft in her slick as you explored her voluptuous naked body and ran your hands up every inch of her bare skin you had access to.

You started with Saerom’s creamy thighs, caressing them softly before moving on to her sexy toned tummy, feeling her tight sculpted abs against your fingertips. She reacted to every touch audibly as your hands made their way back to her luscious breasts, cupping them and keeping your hands filled as she slammed her ass harder against your cock, creating more pleasure.

"You ride me so well, Saerom," you said as you pinched her nipples, feeling her pussy tightening and more of her juices leaking out. You kept your hands filled with her wonderful pale breasts as her ass repeatedly slammed down on your crotch, using your cock for her pleasure.

"It helps that I love your cock," Saerom said as she rode you faster and faster as sweat began to mist all over of your bodies, thighs crashing against your own with every bounce.

"And I love you creaming all over my cock."

The mere act of Saerom taking your cock in and out of her body with ease was driving you crazy, her hot wet pussy wrapped so tightly around your cock you felt like you could burst at any moment.

You couldn’t keep up with all the sensations running through your body, each time Saerom’s ass smacked against your body brought you closer to the point of no return, her juices flowing down her thighs confirming that she was equally reaching past her own limits.

Saerom's tight pussy began pulsating around your shaft as she became breathless, every forceful slam of her full hips brought down on your body making her wetter and wetter as she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Are you close, Saerom?" you asked. It took several moments before she could form an answer, and even then she could only nod in response.

"I need you cumming all over my cock."

"I w-will, fuck. Can you cum with me?"

"I'd love to," you said as desperation and need filled her eyes, knowing neither could hold on much longer. You watched her riding your cock just a little longer before growing tired of being passive and grabbed onto her hips, thrusting deep into her tight dripping cunt as she impaled herself on you.

You wanted every bit of pleasure out of Saerom's body and you were going to take it.

"Oh fuuuck! Just like that!"

It took a few thrusts to find the perfect timing, hitting Saerom's spot at just the right angle, keeping a firm grip on her sweaty body and trying to match her rhythm, both of you working together to achieve your collective goal of reaching climax.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, watching her gorgeous features contorting every time you filled her to the hilt. The air in the room grew harder to take in as you drove yourself in Saerom with desperation, both aching for release. The loud slapping of hot flesh against flesh fought for dominance against the equally loud moaning escaping Saerom’s lips.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, I-I'm gonna cum!" Saerom cried out, the three most beautiful words you had heard all day as you held onto her body tight, preparing yourself for the intensity of what was about to happen.

"I am too, fuck!"

“Cum inside me, please, I need you to fill my tight little pussy,” Saerom begged, and you did everything you could to hold out just long enough to let her achieve orgasm first. You weakly smiled and savored the last few moments before the inevitable.

The final few seconds arrived as your breathing deepened, looking dead center into Saerom’s beautiful eyes filled with need and desire. Without another word you felt Saerom’s juices overflowing as her pussy tightened almost painfully so, thighs trembling violently as her cunt squeezed the life out of your shaft as she came, leaving a mess over your cock and wrapped her arms tighter around the back of your neck and desperately moaning into your ears as her body turned to jelly.

Saerom looked beautiful as her orgasm took over her body, unable to control the volume of satisfied moans leaving her lips as she slowly came down from her intense high. She rocked her hips back and forth to ride out her orgasm and helped you join her as you felt all the tension in your body being released.

Unable to take anymore your cock throbbed inside Saerom, letting out needy grunts and moans as you exploded inside her, emptying your thick hot cum deep inside her pussy and pumping her full of your seed as her body took spurt after spurt as she was filled to the brim.

She rested her head on your shoulder, swaying her hips to coax every drop out of you, the feeling of your warmth deep inside her satisfying her to no end.

“You feel so warm,” she faintly said as your bodies took a much-deserved rest and stared into each other's eyes, both trying to catch a breath at the wonderful experience you just shared.

“That...was...amazing,” you said, heavily gasping.

“It was. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while,” Saerom smiled and kissed you, giving you one more taste of lips as she savored the warmth left in her body.

She gradually lifted her body off yours carefully as your cock plopped out and the huge thick load you had left inside began slowly dripping out of her pussy, running down her flushed thighs. Responding only in tired gasps she tried to catch her breath, watching the mess inside her continue to show itself.

Both of you too tired to move let alone speak, Saerom knelt and licked your shaft clean and tasted your combined juices, lips slurping slowly from base to tip to not miss a drop.

She headed over to your workstation with your cum still dripping down her thighs, grabbed your camera and took several full-body shots of her naked sweaty body, running her hand through her messy hair and smiling for the camera.

"Thank you," Saerom said as she ended up in your naked lap again.

"For what?"

"For taking such pretty pictures of me."

"It's all part of the job. It's easy when I have such a pretty model."

Her cheeks reddened again, the smile etched across her lips something you couldn’t ever get enough of.

"I can't wait to see the full versions."

"I'll have them sent to your company by the end of the week. Just the ones for the magazine of course,” you said.

"I look forward to it. I had a lot of fun today."

"I did too, Saerom."

"Can I see you again? After work?" she asked.

"I usually don't finish until the sun goes down."

"I don't mind, I'll be pretty busy myself. Maybe I'll even take some photos of my own for you."

"Oh? I didn't know you were a photographer as well."

"I'm just an amateur," she shyly said. "It’s just a hobby when I have the time."

"I'd love to see some shots."

"I'll send some then. They might not be as risqué as what we took today."

"As long as you’re in them I’ll love them."

Saerom accepted your praise with a grin on her features and regretfully dressed and left quietly, leaving you tired, sweaty and in need of a shower with her occupied in your thoughts.

Whoever the next model was you knew they couldn’t compare to Saerom, and you couldn’t wait for work to be over.

[anime-onlys]

Spring '21 anime list: What I tried, what I'm watching, and first impressions!

Shaman King (2021)

I hadn't heard about this show until the reboot was announced, and it seems neat so I'll give it a shot! Hesitation isn't quite the right word, but I am watching cautiously because there's a lot about early 2000's anime that should stay in the early 2000's. I'm prepared to take a certain amount of product-of-its-time-ness, but only so much.

I really like its unique visual style. It feels like it's got a similar vibe to Soul Eater and TWEWY with its chunky proportions and face design, and the squash-and-stretch animation really lends itself to comedic moments. I feel like there are some eminently cosplayable designs in my future.

Character-wise, it's only been one episode but I'm taking a liking to Yoh. Based on the OP I hope that Ryuu will be an early-antagonist-turned-loudmouth-friend like JJBA's Okuyasu or Sk8's Shadow. That's one of my favorite character tropes.

The World Ends With You the Animation

My friend is a huge TWEWY fan, so our group was really looking forward to this anime. I saw a little of the gameplay when the Switch version was released, up to the end of episode 1's plot. I know it's going to be excellent story wise, and I already may be planning on making cosplay of that Reaper with the skeleton hoodie.

I love a unique visual style and an awesome soundtrack, of course TWEWY already had that coming in. The CGI Noise are a little clunky, but allow for some really great fight sequences. The characters' CGI models are nearly seamless with the 2D. It feels like the plot is moving fast, but according to my friend they just skipped some fetch quests and puzzle solving that wouldn't have been interesting to animate.

I'm really looking forward to this one each week!

Dragon Goes House-Hunting

One of those "eh, we'll give it a shot" shows. A bunch of us have been eyeing real estate lately, so at the very least it's topical. If done right, the concept could be fun!

We spent most of the episode HATING the dragon's character design. Its proportions are just...awkward in every way. The neck is extremely short and thick and leads into a human-muscled torso, the arms are tiny twigs, and the legs are a little too human and a little too thick to be anything but unnerving. It's bad.

Oddly, except for the dragon, the rest of the creature designs are pretty great! In contrast to a lot of anime, they let them be really non-human and had a good design sense. The humor was solid, the Monster Hunter references were on point, and the character interactions were fun. The OP is GREAT, too!

We'll be continuing this one! If you can make your eyes stop hating you for forcing them to look at the Monster Factory reject of a dragon, I'd say give it a shot.

You Can Make A Mug Too

Now that Yuru Camp is over, we wanted another lighthearted anime that might teach us something while it's at it. You Can Make A Mug Too was one of our picks to sample because one member of anime night has recently acquired a kiln.

My impression is an approving but unenthusiastic "Fine, really." You can definitely tell it's an anime made to bring in tourism to the town it's based in. The characters don't really grab me, but they set up a solid emotional backbone for the story. The production quality isn't stunning, I was hoping for some nice pottery wheel animation but didn't get any.

It's probably a decent show, but we won't watch any more because of the next one on the list.

Supercub

Going straight from You Can Make A Mug to Supercub was like going from store-brand ice pops to fresh gelato. I can already tell this is my favorite anime of the season, hands down.

First, the production quality is excellent. The backgrounds are beautiful, the score is understated but well done to the point that Debussey's Clair de Lune felt like it had been made for the scene it was used for.

More than the production quality alone, this anime's direction is exceptional. It takes 'show don't tell' and uses it perfectly, using body language and soundtrack and shot composition to communicate as much or more than the sparse dialogue. Like, they made my heart skip a beat with nothing but color grading. THAT kind of exceptional.

I haven't spoken much about the plot because I really have no idea where it's going to go. Will we fill in why Koguma is so alone, or will we only move forward to seeing her connect? Will the past of that Supercub come back to haunt her? This feels like an anime that can and will absolutely wreck me, but at the starting line all I can say is I'm READY.

If you only watch one thing this season, watch Supercub.

Continuing anime:

My Hero Academia Season 5:

This season is interesting because for the first time, I think I'm going into it with almost zero spoilers (Dabi's real name is the only one I have). The only plot spoiler I thought I had, that Hawks was somehow working with the League of Villains, was revealed at the end of episode 1. I really enjoy going into things blind so I'm looking forward to this season!

However, the OP is the most disappointing thing out there. Nothing about the song, animation or composition is memorable or even noteworthy. Bones and MHA have access to all the money and talent in the industry and they best they can do is "Fine, I guess".

Yuukoku no Moriarty season 2 (Split cour):

I really enjoyed Moriarty's first season, but the second part of a split-cour always has the risk of running off the rails. What I enjoyed most about the first cour was the reverse-whodunit formula: Here's a terrible noble and the people they hurt, how does Moriarty get rid of them while making it look like an accident? The end of cour 1 started to focus heavily on Sherlock and I don't want the show's namesake to end up sidelined.

Knowing Irene was coming, I was really hoping for a Scandal in Belgravia that follows the books...at all, where the end of the story is that Irene escapes with the photo (except this time aided by the Moriarty brothers). Few or no Sherlock adaptations actually want to engage with the sexism of the era or today's, and just want to paint her as a blackmailer or temptress instead of a woman holding onto the power to protect herself. The beginning was extremely promising, but that went off the rails pretty quick. I still haven't yet seen an adaptation of Irene Adler that I like.

Zombieland Saga: Revenge

I watch this show because it's fun and ridiculous, and I get to hear Mamoru Miyano having the time of his life in the recording booth. I love this show because it always ends up surprising me with its solid emotional backbone. It looks like this season is shaping up to be more of the same!

What blew me away was this episode was the first time I saw a CGI dance sequence that I LIKED. Ever. The characters used different mocap so they weren't eerily in sync, the song and dance itself was well made and supported by excellent camera direction and shot composition, there were 2D cuts to closeups of the dancers as well as audience, and they actually pushed facial expression!

It's a good time. Give it a shot.

[shortracha]

rattled: a valentine’s day shake

a/n: sorta surprise! hehe i had so much fun writing this!! thank you @harrysgoldenbum​ for being my lovely beta and an all around gem! @soullikestyles​ , this is for you for loving these two as much as i do <3

summary: audrey gives harry his present early, and harry absolutely loses his mind (not really) 

warnings: cursing? a single spanish word? i think that’s about it. again, this is shmoopy fluff.

word count: 1.6k

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

If someone were to ask Audrey what her favorite item of clothing was, she would, without a doubt, tell them it’s her maternity sweats she found at TJ Maxx. They were $5, and a bit big when she bought them, but she’s never looked back. Harry’s bought her several pairs that are similar, but they don’t compare to that pair. 

This morning, she finds herself sprawled across the bed in her favorite pair of sweats. With a snack bowl in hand, she watches the baby kick at her. Harry and Audrey are sharing a quiet morning to themselves before Harry has to go attend to some major work details this afternoon. Should be back for dinner, but it’s just not the same. He leaves for a week tomorrow as well, so they’re trying to make the most of the little bit of time they have.  

The window is cracked, the birds are chirping, and the air smells wet like it just rained. To Audrey, it’s the perfect type of morning.

“Look at her, she’s so active this morning.” Not even born yet, she’s already left awestruck by her little girl who’s showing her parents that she’s here and kickin’. Quite literally. Audrey likes to think that it means her baby is already strong, she clings to that thought. But also, damn does it hurt. Not every kick, but her belly starts to feel sore in the mornings when the baby does her thing.

“Yeah, she’s beating you up pretty good today.” Harry’s response is almost instant. He looks up from his book and places a hand on Audrey’s belly, waiting to feel his baby girl kick again. When she does, he smiles and offers his babygirl a quick, “Good morning to you too, little peach.” And returns to his book. 

Audrey tosses a grape into the air and manages to catch it in her mouth on the first try. She throws her arms up in celebration, and Harry high-fives her without looking up from his book. He does chuckle to himself, but it’s unknown if he is amused from the book he is reading or the actions of his fiancée.

“But, can you do it three times in a row?” He carefully places a bookmark on his current page and closes the cover. He reaches across Audrey’s lap, attempts to grab a few grapes. She smacks his hand away and scolds him with a quick, “¡Déjalo! It’s mine!” before scooting the bowl further from him, almost to the edge of the bed. He rubs his hand and pouts.

“Um, ow!” He exclaims dramatically. 

Harry crawls over her, grabs a handful of grapes, just to bother her, and wiggles into a more upright seating position. Back to the headboard, he tosses two up and catches them both in his mouth one after the other.

Audrey rolls her eyes, “Showoff,” she mutters with disdain.  

“I’m a showoff? Do you really want to play this game?” He laughs, incredulous. 

“Whatever,” She waves him off. As weird as it may seem, it’s moments like these that Audrey enjoys the most. It's the little things for her. She tends to remember them more, compared to others. It’s not always easy, but the little moments she gets to spend feeling normal with her best friend are ones she’ll treasure forever. 

“Help me down? I gotta pee.”

Harry hops down from his side of the bed and walks around, grabbing her hands and holding her steady as she scoots her way off the bed.

She shuffles into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as she beelines it for the toilet. 

“Uh, baby, could you close the door, maybe?” Harry’s question is more rhetorical in nature. He knows she’s not going to get back up to close the door. 

Since Audrey got pregnant, she’s become a lot less...private about a lot of things. She was never one to really care too much about the things some people would feel embarrassed about, but things took on a whole different level after she found out about the baby. 

“No, it’s fine.”

“But I can..hear everything.” He laughs on the last word, in disbelief at just how comfortable she seems to be around him. It’s a good thing, to be sure. She just shows it in odd ways.

A few minutes go by, Audrey does her business and begins her exit from the bathroom. 

“Hey, babe, would you mind if I gave you your present early?” Audrey calls out from the bathroom, but she’s not really looking for an answer. She’s already grabbed the small box from the linen closet on her way out and is approaching him, doing her best to hide it behind her back. Unfortunately, she fails.

“Well, I don’t have much choice, do I?” 

Harry’s not one to say no to presents, but they had agreed to wait until he got back from his trip. However, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for the gift exchange.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s so terrible that you’re getting a gift, H.”

“‘M not ungrateful, if that’s what you’re implying.” He pretends to be offended, clutching his chest and an exaggerated gasp leaves his mouth. 

“It is.” He rolls his eyes at her response, Audrey just giggles. 

“Well, are you gonna give me my present, or am I meant to guess what it is first?”

She sets the box on the bed, lifts herself back onto it and slides next to him. Her nerves are bubbling, making her restless. Now, Audrey knows that Harry will be happy with whatever the gift is, but it still intimidates her, when it comes to giving a gift to her loved ones. But this particular gift has her feeling vulnerable and slightly uncertain.

“Here you go, sport.” 

“Don’t ever call me that again.” Harry demands. Instead of responding, she presses a gentle kiss to his cheek and taps the box. 

“Just open it,” he smiles and shifts to sit directly in front of him, eager to watch his reaction. 

“Okay, okay..” Harry trails off, losing his train of thought while he unties the bowtie on top of  the rectangular box. Setting the lid aside, he lifts a small leather photo album out of the box and Audrey’s heart begins to pound in her chest. 

“What’s this?” He asks with such a gentle voice, it’s barely above a whisper. He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, and opens the album to the first page of 12.

Inside, is a picture of Audrey sat on her knees in a black bra and panties, baby bump on full display. He sits there, carefully examining the photo, expression completely unreadable. Audrey has absolutely no idea how he feels. It’s terrifying. 

He takes the time to examine every photo He takes in every detail from each HD shot of Audrey in sexy position or another. Audrey’s favorite is a closeup shot of her chest, arm covering her nipples and her engagement ring sparkling to the camera. As he flips through the album, he keeps the same stoic expression. Each second seems to feel longer than the last. It drives Audrey crazy not knowing what Harry thinks of his gift.

Eventually, Harry reaches the last photo and the slightest hint of a smirk lifts from his lips and Audrey breathes a little easier. It’s a miracle she’s managed to stay quiet the whole time. It’s absolutely no small feat for her. 

“So...What do you think?” She’s meek, cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “Do you hate it?” Harry snaps the book closed and looks up to make eye contact with her. 

He offers her a sly smile, while he adjusts his pants. “Of course not!” His voice cracks ever so slightly, and Audrey lets out the most ridiculous laugh he’s ever heard. More a chortle than anything else. 

She catches on. 

“Which one do you like best?” She crawls beside him and takes the album from his hands.

“When did you do this?” 

“That’s not what I asked.” She browses the album herself, curious to see if she can guess which one it is. If she had to, it would be the black and white shot of her on the floor, knees skyward and back arched slightly, baby bump on full display again. “I did this not too long after we found out about Peach being a girl.” She recalls the time she left for the afternoon under the guise of a “girl’s day”. Harry never suspected a thing. 

“And you managed to keep a boudoir shoot secret? I’m impressed, baby.” He kisses her head in praise. “You know what, I think we should blow this one up. Do you have access to the digitals?” He points to the open page, the black and white floor shot, just as Audrey suspected. 

“A few of them, yeah. What exactly do you want that for, if you have the album?” She looks up at him, curious. 

“I want this one in the living room.”

“Absolutely not!” 

“C’mon, it would look so good!” He argues with her, tapping the page for emphasis. “You look so good!”

She feels her cheeks warm up again, beyond happy that he likes his gift. “You’re very sweet, but we’re not hanging anything up in the living room.”

“Why not? I should be able to show off how sexy you look!”

“Harry, I refuse to have a picture of me, nearly naked might I add, hanging in our living room.” Audrey crosses her arms and keeps a light scowl on her face. 

With some discussion, they finally manage to compromise; Audrey lets him hang up a canvas of the floor shot on the wall by the bed when he gets back from his trip. The album finds a home in the bathroom.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Midnight”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I’d like to extend a formal congratulations to every Cinder fan in the community. Criticisms of the writing aside, you all struck gold with twelve whole minutes devoted to your fave and I’m absolutely thrilled for you.

We again start with a dark screen and some audio, in this case Cinder’s scrubbing. This technique—along with closeups on eyes—is a real favorite of RWBY’s this volume, to the point where I think they’re a little too enamored with it. But at least this is just a preference, not something that actively harms the storytelling in any way, so it’s welcome to stay. This time, unlike our premiere, we stay on Cinder as her life is summed up with three events intercut with one another: scrubbing floors, getting taunted by boys, and the sound of heels making their way towards her. It’s clear that Cinder leads a poor, miserable life, if her dirty clothes and stronger guys throwing her around is any indication, but all that changes when the rich woman says “I’ll take her” and Cinder is transported to a better life in a wealthy hotel.

At least supposedly.

Here’s my problem with the worldbuilding. This moment has Witcher vibes and Witcher, in turn, built itself off of a trope seen a hundred times before: A young woman is treated terribly by her family, is whisked away by a wealthy/powerful caretaker, and though her life has arguably improved, she quickly learns that the new world she’s entered is just as dangerous and harsh as the one she left. In Witcher’s case, Yennefer is a disabled woman abused by her family, bought by Tissaia, and taken to Aretuza where the other girls hate her and the curriculum is potentially deadly. Cinder is a poor woman arguably abused by her family (scrubbing)/the locals (fights), is taken by an unnamed woman, and whisked away to the swanky hotel where the daughters hate her and the work is potentially deadly due to shock collars. The difference between these two setups is that Tissaia bought Yennefer because of her magical potential. Why does our hotel lady take Cinder?

I mean yeah, obviously she wants a slave, but it’s a little weird isn’t it? Usually when a young woman falls headfirst into a new and questionable life, there’s a solid reason for her entry. This woman—whose lack of a name also says something about the worldbuilding—could have hired anyone she pleased to abuse. As we saw in regards to Atlas and Mantle in the past, every city has its poor and downtrodden. So what made her go out to some random farm and snatch Cinder up? It just, as always, feels a little too convenient. Cinder didn’t enter this life because something about her characterization or origin justified it, the plot simply ensured that she, out of everyone possible, and with very little reason, was the one chosen to follow The Plot™ .

It also messes with the Cinderella parallels. Originally (or “originally,” going off of Disney here which is likely what RWBY is using as a template too) it’s her step-family that abuses her and yes, we recreate that via the hiring (“hiring”—I doubt she was paid), but Cinder was already scrubbing floors back home. Her status as the servant already existed. So why change locations? Why not just keep Cinder as an abused farm girl, or have her a part of the hotel family right from the start? Part of the reason why Cinderella resonates is because of the contrast between the happy life with her father and the new, horrific life she falls into once he dies. Which is then further contrasted by the rest of the outside world. Fairy Godmother, Prince, and party-goers alike are all presented as kind, decent people. They represent the “real” world that Cinderella can escape to. By making Cinder’s original life horrible, her new life worse, and everyone connected with that life cruel and/or indifferent (with the exception of this one, special huntsmen)… you paint a very different picture of the world as a whole. Which is something RWBY has been vocal about trying to accomplish—it’s not a fairy tale—the only problem is with how these moments are undermined the second the story wants Ruby to ~Believe in People~. Cinderella is a story about enduring and eventually overcoming temporary hardship. Cinder’s story is about endless hardship that creates villains. A dark and fascinating story… but how does that fit into last week’s episode where Ruby told the whole world about Salem, expecting them to band together in peace and harmony? This is how Remnant’s world treats people when there’s not a global crisis, and Cinder isn’t even a faunus.

Which, I want to make clear going into the rest of this recap, does not excuse Cinder for her actions. At all. I think there are some complicated acknowledgements to be made in terms of her abuse and the Huntsmen’s responsibility in it continuing, but that does not give Cinder a blanket pass for all the horrific shit she has pulled over the years. Cinder didn’t just defend herself from abusers, she became one. More on that in a minute.

First though… is the Huntsmen’s name Rhodes? Did we hear that in the episode? If we did, I totally missed it because I have a note here about the one important character not getting a name. So yeah, idk. If we got this from more supplemental info, bad RWBY. If I missed it, bad Clyde. Either way, I’ll use that name going forward.

Back to the plot at hand. The hotel is, as said, populated by indifferent and shallow people and there’s no desert nearby, so I presume we’re supposed to be in Atlas? (Why did this woman buy a girl from another Kingdom?) There are customers getting drunk, flirting, and generally just enjoying their wealth, which harkens back to Weiss’ comment in Volume 4 about all their problems being superficial. We’re introduced to the owner’s two daughters who are, as expected, quintessential Mean Girls. 

They love ordering Cinder around, not just with hotel chores, but personal ones as well like, “rub my feet”… despite the fact that this place is massive and must have an equally massive staff to stay in business. Why aren’t the girls terrorizing anyone else? Again, it makes sense for Cinder(ella) to be the focus of their abuse when she’s in a single household, but transplanting that to a hotel raises a lot of questions that RWBY hasn’t bothered to examine. You can’t move a story like that and not think about what further changes that would evoke.

See, RWBY could have done something interesting here by considering some of those other changes. Like having one or both step-sisters be the one to help free Cinder from her abuse, playing the villain before becoming the fairy godmother. Up until she turns villain instead of hero, this is just Cinderella’s story copy and pasted into RWBY. It’s moments like this that should make us wary of using fairy tale allusions as evidence for our readings and theories. Whether RWBY is deconstructing or upholding a story varies wildly, and we never know what we’ll get until we actually see it on screen. Even then we can’t count on a choice remaining consistent, as we saw with Ironwood’s deconstruction being tossed out the window in Volume 7.

Cinder is originally just as meek as her fairy tale counterpart too. We don’t hear her speak until the owner is about to leave when she simply goes, “Food?” The sisters laugh at her and a roll is thrown to the floor with the comment that she should get busy because it “looks filthy.” I quite like that moment. Your job is to ensure the floors are clean enough to eat off of—literally.

We see a montage of Cinder doing just that, lots of chores, with a new song listing all the tasks she’s now responsible for. During this, Rhodes is seen in the background and witnesses when Cinder (presumably) first uses her semblance by heating up the brush and chucking it at the sisters, creating a massive cloud of steam.

 It’s that moment which “earns” her a shock session with her necklace and I’m staring at the screen, a little open-mouthed. I mean, that’s the second child torture we’ve seen this volume (with Cinder being ten here). Again, I’m not making a specific accusation, just going, “Really?”

Also, note the anti-faunus sign. Nothing like continually showing us racist establishments rather than actually writing a story that deals with the racism needless put into the story world. I’d like to remind everyone of my previous comments this Volume about how the story works hard to paint Mantle as sympathetic, but refuses to show anything that does the same for Atlas citizens, people who are in just as much danger with Salem as an equalizer. A whole city is not actually made up of shallow racists, the show is just showing us only those people to create a simplistic “They’re all bad” reading that encourages us to reject Atlas and, by extension, Ironwood. Weiss is walking proof that Atlas citizens are both complex individuals and capable of bettering themselves. If we can come to adore the Schnee heiress, we should be questioning why nearly every other citizen is painted as an abuser, too wealthy to care, or has conveniently left the story (Rhodes dead, Klein gone, Whitley rejected, etc.).

As Cinder is being tortured, we see that she’s forced to say, “Without you, I am nothing.” Now see, this is excellent... in theory. This is the kind of line we needed to hear with some consistency over the last seven years (if RWBY still insisted on waiting that long for a backstory), setting up that this line is clearly engrained in Cinder and she repeats it on instinct. Instead—to my recollection, anyway—we only get it this Volume, in two episodes. If it appeared before then it wasn’t notable enough to remember. I commented on this before, but it wasn’t a, “Ah, this line must be important” reaction, it was a “Lol why is RWBY using the same line twice? That’s weird.” By only giving it to us twice before the backstory and in such a short timeframe, the impact of this reveal is lost. We’re only now realizing that the line is important, rather than coming to realize why.

Our writers know just enough to recognize what techniques work, but not enough to have figured out what makes them tick. They get that providing a RWBY-vised version of Cinderella is cool, but not how to adapt that 100% successfully. They know that repeated lines have power, but not how to create good setup for the reveal. They know the camera should use closeups, but not what moments are important enough to warrant that. RWBY, eight years on, still feels like a newbie writer copying what the great stories are doing without yet understanding why those aspects work and, thus, how to recreate them.

I mean, Cinder’s backstory appearing now attests to that most obviously. I waved at the Cinder fans before, but the reality is that most viewers don’t care, either because Cinder herself is so bland, and/or because the story waited too long to make her a little more interesting. This entire flashback was handled badly simply by virtue of it arriving over seven years past the character’s introduction. 

So after this torture session Cinder steals Rhode’s sword. We hear some dialogue in the background of him getting pissed that it’s missing and the sisters promising to find it, implying that Cinder will have this tool at her disposal for a while. Instead, seconds later he’s found her hideout and confronts her. I don’t know if I’m impressed with Rhode’s skills, or rolling my eyes at how contrived this all is. Chuck in the question of whether Cinder was talented enough to steal the sword out from under him, or if Rhodes was stupid enough to leave it lying around, and I’m edging towards the eye rolling.

He dodges Cinder’s attack, rolls her more weapons to prove he’s not here to hurt her, and acknowledges that she’s not getting “the most fair treatment.” Okay, here’s where things start to get complicated. Rhodes tells Cinder she shouldn’t run away because then she’ll be running her whole life (don’t really agree with that). He likewise (rightly imo) tells her not to straight up murder them because look, no matter how much of a shit stain someone is, I can’t condone slamming a sword through their chest on an individual’s say-so (especially when two of those people are also kids growing up under an abuser, like Whitely). So what’s left? Rhodes says Cinder can train to become a huntress. At ten years old, she has seven years to prepare for the exam.

But she has to stay with her abusive family until then.

My problem is far less with the claim that this “has” to happen and far more with the writing’s failure to tell us why. Cinder could have begged to come with Rhodes and he says she can’t because… idk. Make up a reason. He doesn’t make enough to feed the both of them. It would be too dangerous out on missions without training and he doesn’t have a permanent place to stay (hence using the hotel all the time). He could even go the “They’re your legal guardians” route with more explanation because it’s arguable that Rhodes had no idea about the collar. Doesn’t mean Cinder’s treatment isn’t “that bad” in his eyes, just that he might not have known the extent and thus thought it was preferable for Cinder to put up with “just” being insulted and overworked until she’s 17. That this life that he only has a partial picture of is preferable to the life she’d have at his side. Something to explain the stakes here, the risks, and why he took this stance. 

And/or give us a reason why Cinder doesn’t try to run, a suggestion I make very cautiously because it’s not my intention to put the responsibility solely on her. This isn’t meant to be a “Just save yourself! It’s easy!” claim. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement that young, barely trained kids go out into the world all the time in this show—Ruby, Oscar—and it’s an acknowledgement that Cinder tugged off her collar easy-peasy. The point is, practically speaking, Cinder could have left and braved the streets like Emerald did… so give us a reason why she decided to stay. Maybe she’s scared of living on the streets, acknowledging that a little food and a place to sleep is better than nothing. Maybe she’s scared that if she doesn’t have a direct connection to the hotel (convenience), Rhodes won’t train her anymore. Maybe, as an abuse victim, she can’t articulate why she won’t leave, she just can’t. Something to acknowledge these gaps because, right now, we just have the fandom going, “See? This is why the huntsmen are all evil cops. Rhodes took the lawful route and look where it got Cinder! He’s the responsible adult in this situation, so it’s all his fault.” Problem is, this take ignores: 

The fact that our heroes are also huntsmen and were pretending to be huntsmen before they had those lawful licenses. So what does that make them? We can’t continually criticize these professional roles without criticizing our heroes’ use of them as well. Ruby just ensured the world would take her message seriously by introducing herself as a huntress. We can’t condemn these laws and privileges while likewise letting Ruby continue to use them however she please. It’s okay if she’s a part of the system, because Ruby is inherently good! That’s not how this works. I’ve just described every American cop show that tumblr is currently turning against: The system is corrupt and needs to be overhauled, but our protagonists are different. 

The story fails to tell us why Rhodes won’t do more outside of a single line about Cinder being of legal age. That just acknowledges that age has some bearing on his decision, not whether it outweighs other considerations (can Cinder survive if she leaves?), or whether Rhodes even has a full picture of what’s happening to her (the collar). The takeaway is that we don’t know what his though process was because RWBY didn’t show it to us, not that his thought process is automatically awful. 

Rhodes, as a literal stranger entering her life, is not 100% responsible for what happens to Cinder. I know people don’t want to acknowledge that because leaving a child in that situation is absolutely horrific, but if RWBY wants to be ~realistic~ (and it does) then we need to acknowledge that reality too. If you saw a child employee getting yelled at in a hotel and then found her with your sword, would you rip the collar off her neck and be like, “Congratulations, you’re my child now”? Nice as that trope is, probably not! Or hell, maybe a lot of you would upend your life and risk legal action to whisk them away, but a lot of other people wouldn’t... and they're not the devil for doing what they can within the bounds of the law. The idea that because Rhodes unexpectedly had one (1) encounter with Cinder means he’s now responsible for her life and outcome is, well, crazy. “But, Clyde, you can’t just see that kind of horror and not do something about it.” You’re right. You know what you do? Tell the authorities. But does Remnant have the equivalent of social workers? We don’t know! Which means we can’t assume that Rhodes didn’t call them just because he’s a bad person. Or maybe they exist and the fandom considers them too corrupt to be useful, like so many other authorities in this show. So… what else is there for him to do? There doesn’t seem to be anyone above Rhodes that he can turn to, he doesn’t (for whatever reason) want to essentially kidnap Cinder and start a new life with her, so what’s left? Try to give Cinder a healthy relationship and a way to escape in the long run, which is precisely what Rhodes did. 

Honestly, I’m kind of salty that this guy went out of his way to help her, he saw what everyone else saw and was the only one who would help her, but because he didn’t do more—because he didn’t entirely upend his life and/or risk arrest to take her away to this hypothetically better situation—the fandom is acting like it’s his fault Cinder killed her abusers. It’s not. Cinder made that choice.

At the end of the day, blaming Rhodes reveals the expectation that it’s his responsibility to solve this massive problem purely because he had the bad luck to be the one Cinder stole from. That’s like telling a teacher who learns about abuse from a paper that following the lawful channels and going out of his way to assist the child in other ways is responsible when the kid murders their family one day. “Why didn’t you just barge into the house and take the kid?!” Because there are a hundred reasons why that would go incredibly badly? Rhodes can’t help Cinder if he’s in jail. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if she ends up dead on a mission while following him. Rhodes can’t help Cinder if their attempt at escape fails and she bears the punishment. 

The only thing I think Rhodes did absolutely wrong was giving Cinder the sword while she was still under the owner’s thumb. Stupid, but not cruel. And again, stupid does not equal blanket responsibility. I’m likewise seeing, “Rhodes gave her the sword and thus it’s his fault that Cinder got in trouble. It’s his fault they died. What was Cinder supposed to do, not defend herself?” Are people forgetting that Cinder stole the sword herself in the beginning and then readily accepted it again? She had agency in obtaining weaponry and what she wanted it for. Are people forgetting that, in accepting it, she likewise accepted the risk of keeping it hidden in the hotel? Are people forgetting that the time skip shows this happening years later and that Rhodes clearly thought Cinder was past her murderous streak? Are people forgetting that Cinder killed the owner by snapping her neck and resisting the shock collar, no sword required? She could have killed them any time she pleased based on the crime scene, whether Rhodes had given her a weapon or not. The weapon was just the catalyst that, truthfully, could have been caused by anything else. Cinder snaps when they find the sword and she’s tortured. Cinder snaps when she drops another tray and she’s tortured. She had planned to kill her abusers and never completely let go of that. 

Honestly, I’m just annoyed that we have another good hearted, takes action, does his best and makes some mistakes character getting blamed for everything another character chose to do, erasing their agency in the process. Rhodes did not abuse Cinder. Rhodes did not force her to kill her actual abusers. And Rhodes is certainly not responsible for what Cinder later becomes. Could Rhodes have done more? Of course, but every character could always do more. 

The tl;dr is that this complex situation needed far better setup in the show and the fandom needs to stop using that lack of setup as “proof” that characters are horrible people when they fail to magically fix said complicated, badly explained problems. Cinder chose to murder three people. Whether that was justified in the face of her abuse is up to you to decide, but it was still her choice. Please stop blaming the adult male characters for the choices the teenage girls in this show make. RWBY is too convoluted and attempting to tackle too many complex issues to reduce that to, “Every man here is the evil, responsible party and ever girl is a #queen. Even when they go on to murder Pyrrha ^_^” As a woman who would very much like to be rooting for the mostly-woman cast more than I now do, this isn’t the feminist take people want it to be.  

But I’ve jumped waaaay ahead. Let’s backtrack a bit.

That first interaction between Rhodes and Cinder is super weird because the camera keeps covering Rhodes’ face and I don’t know why. 

We segue into that montage of him training her for presumably years (Cinder’s hair changes) until we see him giving her the sword in what’s meant to be a moment of pride and trust. Soon after, Rhodes (randomly) comes back to the hotel when everyone else is asleep and hears noises in the back. Moving to check them out, he discovers that Cinder has murdered the two sisters and is in the process of murdering the owner, throwing back the line, “Without you, I am nothing, but because of you, I am everything.” Again, much more impactful if this had been a line we’ve associated with Cinder for years now, not a couple of episodes.

After she breaks the owner’s neck (damn, strong hand!) she tells Rhodes she doesn’t have to run anymore. Cinder clearly expects him to be happy for her and is shocked when he takes out his weapons.

I’m sorry, this is not a “betrayal.” Could Rhodes have just let Cinder go? Sure. Should he have? Given what she becomes, that’s very debatable! Rhodes clearly thought he’d helped her grow into someone who was not inclined towards murder (giving her the sword) and thus is probably going to be a little rattled when he walks in to find her killing three people. Again, there are obvious differences given the level of abuse Cinder seems to have suffered in comparison, but imagine that Glynda, after teaching Weiss for years, walked in on her killing Jacques and Whitley in revenge. Is she supposed to just ignore that? Shrug her shoulders and wish her well? I know a lot of people consider that the “fair” outcome given the inclusion of abuse, but that’s because we’ve had an omniscient view of Cinder’s history and insight into her emotional state. Rhodes doesn’t have that. All he has is his oath as a huntsmen to prevent things like, you know, murder sprees. I’m not going to delve into the overall ethics of a judicial system, either in RWBY or the real world, and thus I’m not going to make any naive claims about it being fair—it’s fucking not—but I don’t think the answer to these systematic problems is, “Why wouldn’t you just let the teenager murder three bad people and then go on her way? She totally deserved it!” Rhodes is not in a position to decide that, which is the entire point of having a judicial system in the first place. 

So Rhodes wants to bring Cinder in. Kind of like how Clover wanted to bring Qrow in once he had an arrest warrant. I can’t emphasize enough that wanting to start a legal process rather than letting clearly guilty/potentially guilty people go because they WANT to is not a “betrayal.” Regardless of what teen dramas may have taught us, you don’t have to potentially throw your own freedom and your morals away because you found out a friend is wanted by the authorities. Or you walk in on them currently snapping someone���s neck. There are options other than, “Believe your friend is right without question and help them hide the bodies” (looking at you, Maria, Pietro). Whitely is not insane for going, “Hey, can you not make me an accomplice to a crime by forcing your way in here with a bunch of fugitives?” I’m constantly surprised by the number of fans who can, in one breath, condemn characters for not throwing a middle finger up at the law and in the next praise Jacques’ arrest. Do we want to benefit from this system or not? If yes, that means you have to weigh which laws can be broken (such as in a protest), which should be obeyed (bring murderers and wanted men in), all while working to change the laws that are prejudice and aren’t working. 

Anyway, they fight. It’s short and sweet, backdropped by the large clock striking midnight, hence our title. I’m incredibly suspicious of Cinder breaking Rhode’s aura first, given that she’s still the student in training, but here we can more persuasively say he wasn’t fighting seriously, given that he then stupidly rushes towards her without a weapon. Still, that would be the second time now that RWBY has relied on elite fighters “holding back” to explain how the kids in training beat them, the first instance, of course, being with the Ace Ops.

Rhodes does rush Cinder though when she hits the wall and breaks her own aura, clearly concerned. She uses the moment to stab him with both swords. He uses his last breaths to put a hand on her head, conveying that he doesn’t blame her for how this all turned out.

Then Cinder pulls off her collar with a single snap and looks up at the broken moon, crying her single tear.

I’m dragging the flashback for multiple reasons, but I want to emphasize that I think this episode is leagues better from what we got last week. Absolute night and day. It’s just that, as always, improvements are incredibly comparative in RWBY. It’s not really good for numerous reasons… it’s just better than what we’ve gotten before. It’s “great” provided you go in with standards buried in the ground.

We then return to the present as Cinder wakes up in Salem’s whale. This scene gives us a great shot of her grimm arm, so cosplayers take note!

Emerald arrives soon after and immediately rushes to her side, expressing how worried she was. She grabs Cinder’s grimm hand without hesitation. Honestly, I don’t care much about either character… but this single frame activated some sort of ship button in my brain.

Not fully because I’m personally not drawn to toxic relationships in fiction (which, as I’m about to explain, would absolutely be the case here), but just the tinniest bit. Because I’m a sucker for monstrous people being loved despite their monstrous nature, so having Emerald take that hand over the other is like a ship speed run for me.

I’m predictable, folks.

But we need to talk about less happy things for a moment. I mentioned above Cinder becoming an abuser herself. I hope I don’t need to lay out the laundry list of murders, attempted murders, sabotage, and general taking-over-the-world-ness she’s engaged in since Episode One. Don’t let a sad backstory erase all that. Hell, for all we know the hotel owner had a horrific backstory too! Doesn’t justify how she treated Cinder. The point though is beyond her clear status as a villain, we now know that Cinder treats Emerald just like the owner once treated her.

Cinder was “rescued” from her life on the farm by the owner. Emerald is “rescued” from her life on the streets by Cinder.

Both realize over time that the situation they’re now in is actually worse.

Both reiterate that they “owe” the other “everything,” with Cinder having that shocked into her and Emerald seeming to willingly believe it.

The owner treats Cinder as a slave. Cinder treats Emerald as a slave. “Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed.” The only difference is that Cinder’s orders were things like “Scrub floors” and Emerald’s are “Convince an audience this girl attacked our ally.”

Both use threats to keep the other in line: the owner with her shock collar and Cinder with her Maiden powers. Cinder doesn’t need to resort to violence (yet) because Emerald adores her, but the threat is always there. 

There are even visual similarities this episode, such as kneeling and gem necklaces, though I acknowledge fully that those are just interesting details as opposed to anything like persuasive proof. 

The point is that Cinder became exactly what she hated, she just turned the dial up to eleven by going after the whole world instead of a single child. “But Cinder never had a chance to be anything else.” Sure she did. Blake and Weiss are proof of that. Even if we believe that Cinder was doomed to be a villain due to the extent of her abuse, what does that say about the hotel’s owner? We don’t know anything about her history, so what if she was abused too? Does that mean she was always “doomed” to treat Cinder that way? Does that excuse everything she did to her because she supposedly never stood a chance of becoming anything else? Of course not.

Though very iffily done, this is a commentary on the cycle of abuse. Each case is horrific, but it doesn’t excuse what comes later. Every abuser was once an innocent child and every innocent child has the capability of becoming the next abuser. Cinder’s life up until now was beyond awful and yes, she lacked a lot of privileges that others had to help them head down a better path, like Weiss’ wealth. On the other hand, she lacks other difficulties that would make that path harder for others, like Blake’s status as a faunus. Everyone has a choice to make: Will you treat others the way you were treated because that’s “fair,” or will you decide to treat others better than what you were dealt? There are lots of aspects that factor into the likelihood of someone choosing the latter—which is why I really like Rhode’s hand on Cinder’s head, acknowledging his understanding that she’s an abused kid taking the only path she thinks is available to her—but individual agency is by no means removed from the equation. Cinder escaped her situation and decided she’d never be powerless again. What does that mean to her, perhaps becoming a community member who works to prevent abuse like the kind she suffered? No, it means grinding the entire world under her heel until she’s the only one with power left.

This GIF continues to be the only one I need.

(No, the fact that it comes from a cop show and I’m using it for such an anti-law, anti-establishment story/fandom isn’t lost on me.)

(Also, if anyone is curious, this is why I love Ozpin. Out of everyone in this cast, HE has suffered the most, tenfold, and yet he still chooses to be kinder to those than they’ve been to him.) 

Anyway, I should really stick to the plot lol. Cinder realizes that her waking up means that they’ve lost, which I still think is BS. Cinder needed a win to come across as a formidable villain again and the likes of Neo, Emerald, and a Maiden with years of practice under her belt should have wiped the floor with a scientist, retirement grandma, and a girl who got the powers an hour ago. But I again digress.

Mercury reveals that he will no longer be following Cinder’s orders because Salem has a special job for him. They’ve all been told to meet on the bridge.

Then we cut to Ozpin and Oscar.

My poor boy is a mess and Ozpin is in the process of begging Oscar to take a “break.” “I would like to express again that this is my burden to bear, not yours.” Take note, fandom. In a few moments Hazel will accuse Ozpin of being a “coward” because “All this time, it could have been you, but you let him suffer.” I just know a bunch of people will be going, “Yeah! Ozpin just let a kid get tortured instead of him. WTF??” Okay 1. We should always be suspicious of agreeing with the takes villains have and 2. Oscar just refused to let Ozpin do that. It is—again—his choice because he thinks that Hazel is “holding back” with him. Oscar is being a brave and logical dude trying to make the best of this situation for both of them. Don’t take that away from him just to make Ozpin look bad. What would we even want him to do? Take control back? The fandom has been yelling at Ozpin for that since Volume 5.

So they’re going back and forth when Oscar suddenly announces that they “can’t leave yet. This is our chance.”

Ozpin even says he thinks Oscar must have taken one too many hits because… yeah. What? Long story short, Oscar recognizes that they’ll never be this close to Salem’s subordinates again and that they should try to undermine her from the inside out, just like she’s done with the world since she knows she can’t take on everyone at once. I love Oscar taking charge here, I love them speaking in unison, I even love the hope of achieving something epic while in captivity despite my own belief that Oscar should break and reveal the Lamp’s password. What I don’t love is:

Another messy, unexpected belief that Salem made her choices because she “knows” she can’t win any other way. Except that—like Ruby’s line in the recording—Salem’s current attack blows that idea out of the water. She IS taking on the whole world. Granted, Ozpin and Oscar presumably don’t know that the whole world literally knows of her existence now, or that Salem was smiling about it, but they do know that she’s attacking Atlas head on. What else is that except a declaration of war with all of Remnant?

The idea of undermining Salem from the inside via Hazel. For anyone who reads my other metas, I just said that this idea wouldn’t work because Emerald isn’t the one torturing him, the one character who has consistently demonstrated hesitation (or, now, Neo). Hazel despises Ozpin so much that he would never listen to him. He despises him so much he doesn’t even see Oscar as his own person… at least he didn’t before. That’s been retconned now with Hazel going “easy” Oscar and having an actual conversation with Ozpin. Whereas before, he was slamming Oscar into walls and screaming about how he’s going to kill the “murderer” of his sister. They basically softened his character to make this plan possible.

The fact that this scene came about without Oscar and Ozpin ever getting to reconcile their problems. Last we saw them, Oscar was saying how he hated that Ozpin came back and refusing to acknowledge their merge. Now, they’re working together like they’ve always been solid allies. I get that the danger they’re in helps to put it all into perspective, but why can’t we get a few lines of them hashing this out? Or at least putting things aside until they’re out of Salem’s clutches? If you don’t need to re-write Hazel’s character with “he’s going easy on me” lines, you can use that space to deal with the conflict we’ve already established. Especially given the strange choice to have Oscar refuse to give up control and be the one coming up with this plan... but then Ozpin does take control and (maybe, see below) enacts it? I feel like we’ve missed huge chunks of this story. As it is, I wonder if RWBY will bother coming back to this. The questions of if/how Oscar will accept Ozpin and if/how he’ll reveal this secret to the group feels like they’re being swept under the rug and it will likely go unnoticed by a lot of viewers simply due to how intense the kidnapping plot is.

So things are a little messy, but otherwise enjoyable, and they’re about to get downright confusing. For me, anyway. See, Hazel reveals that he follows Salem because she can’t be beaten (cue my continued worry about Ruby telling the whole WORLD). She “can’t be stopped. She’s a force of nature,” and Ozpin is fighting a “cause with no victory, no end.” He yells back that “Someone has to try!”—bless this man—and then looks down at the ground going, “Salem can be fought. Unless… she brings the Relics together, if that happens…” and mentions summoning the Gods.

So here’s my confusion. The scene makes it feel like Ozpin is planting some sort of seed in Hazel’s head. He and Oscar JUST got done agreeing to try and undermine her from the inside out, then we get this line that feels like him “accidentally” dropping a secret that will turn Hazel against her. Except… Ozpin doesn’t lie here? The line isn’t useful to them as far as I can tell. They are screwed if Salem gets the Relics. …Right? Because if not, why the hell have the heroes been working so hard to keep them out of her hands? So I can’t decide if:

A) This scene is just written badly and none of this is part of the plan to undermine Salem.

B) Ozpin is going, “NO. Don’t collect the RELICS. That would be the WORST THING EVER /s” in an attempt to trick Hazel into doing it anyway and this is somehow supposed to hurt Salem, despite being presented since Volume 5 as the worst outcome for our heroes? 

C) Ozpin specifically wants Salem to make the mistake of summoning the Gods because he thinks he’s completed his task? Or something? But what in the world would make him think that—especially without seeing Ruby’s message (not to mention the lack of unity that mess should cause)—or what makes him think the Gods would just destroy Salem regardless of what he’s achieved? If summoning the Gods was ever a defeat Salem option, why hasn’t he done it before?

I’m leaning towards A just because it makes the most sense by far, but that would also mean we had Ozpin and Oscar decide on this plan, have a chance to start this plan… and then didn’t actually do anything. Yelling at Hazel for following Salem isn’t a new strategy, they were doing that before, so what’s new? Or has the new strategy not been revealed yet? Idk, as happy as I am to see them being BAMF together, I’m slightly unsure about how it all hangs together. I’d much rather have an internally consistent and clear outcome that’s predictable (Oscar breaks or just holds out until rescue) rather than what appears like a super cool, badass, unexpected plot on the surface… but crumbles once you poke at the foundation a bit.

So whether Oscar and Ozpin started this plan or not, they’re dragged into the throne room where they’re forced to kneel before Salem. Yikes. She sits on her throne with the Hound, who I’m only now realizing could be read as a messed up Toto

We learn that Tyrian heard from Watts about his incarceration and hacking Penny. What? Okay, I took the time to go back through “Amity” just to find this screenshot.

That’s not a working Scroll! Idk what I thought Watts might do with it at the end of last week, but it wasn’t send a full, uninterrupted message to Salem that updates her on everything that’s gone down in Atlas. This thing is toast! Moments like this make me question how much communication there really is between the writers and the animators, despite last Volume’s disaster with Oscar telegraphing his punch like whoa. Are we still getting that level of miscommunication? 

Salem then punishes Cinder for disobeying her by hurting her grimm arm. See, this here (for me, anyway) is the mark of a newbie writer. When the moment first started I went, “Oh nice. Just like the shock collar!” Then the scene made that abundantly clear by cutting to flashbacks of Cinder in her collar. That’s too heavy-handed. We already got the parallel, but then the show went, “Do you get it??” It shows that the writers are too scared that the viewers won’t get it, that their nuance will be lost, so they scramble to make it as obvious as possible, rather than trusting in their own writing.

And if you’re like, “So you want RWBY to be more clear and also… less clear?” the answer is, sadly, yes lol. The things that are already confusing due to retconning and inconsistent themes need to be made explicit, whereas the details that are already strong don’t need an in-your-face, “Okay, but did you really get the parallel here? We’re just making sure.” It’s like launching into explaining why a joke is funny when it’s already landed vs. telling a nonsensical joke and then waiting for the laugh that will never come. RWBY struggles in both areas.  

Salem delves into this speech about how this is actually all her fault and she should let Cinder spread her wings or something. AKA, go free Watts and track down Penny. Then you can have your precious Maiden powers. 

There’s a massive earthquake across Mantle and we watch a + medical symbol go out. Again, heavy-handed. We don’t need that in order to understand that the whole city shaking while the grimm look happily up to the sky is a bad thing.

We cut to Winter listening to the Ace Ops complain about Penny. She tells them to act like the elite they are, likely because she hates how they refer to Penny as “junk.” Still being set up to betray Ironwood, I bet. During this scene we learn that they have “confirmed visual of her leaving Amity. She appeared to be malfunctioning.” So Penny is alive? Also, they have eyes on Amity Tower and were able to see Penny leaving, but didn’t see any of our trio coming to launch it in the first place? Did Ironwood want it to launch? Did they see Cinder? I just don’t know.

Before they can get there though a message from Jaune comes through. Serious kudos to Team JNY for asking that “anyone” respond/taking the personal risk of calling for help in the first place. They’re finally putting—as Harriet says—they’re own selfishness aside in favor of the greater good. Yang obviously hates that it’s “you guys” they ended up with, but she’s not outright attacking the Ace Ops or anything. I’m like,

Excellent job, Yang. 

Jaune is a little harsh in his panic. He said in his message that a “large mass of grimm” is heading towards Mantle and then when Harriet leads with asking about Penny, wants to know what’s wrong with her. Why are you asking about Penny when lives are in danger and “it’s” (the grimm) are “right there”? Except he, uh… points at nothing. There’s the chasm with (I presume) the weird grimm goo down it? Not sure based on the shot, but the Ace Ops expected a “mass of grimm” and then land to see no grimm anywhere nearby. So yeah, they’re more focused on the missing Maiden than the seemingly imaginary enemy Jaune is freaking out about.

They only get on board when the river launches itself at Atlas.

So the goo is, like, sentient before it becomes individual grimm? Or Salem is controlling it from her whale? Either way it’s BAD.

I want to briefly gripe about how the hell everyone is watching this. What, is there a camera conveniently trained on this one random part of Atlas’ underside and everyone’s scrolls tuned into that the second the attack started? It seems far-fetched, to put it mildly. In RWBY’s favor though, I want to acknowledge that we finally have appropriate expressions for the situation! This is good!!

I’m going to level with you all. My notifications have known no peace since I made the mistake of criticizing the adored trio that is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. I thought supporting Ironwood would get me heat. Nope. Not supporting the main girls is what did it and honestly? I shouldn’t have been surprised. Last week I pointed out that having them smile and, in Ruby’s case, coo during a moment of horror is not good animation and implies some pretty uncomfortable things about their overall sympathy level. The image in question: 

It doesn’t set a good tone, especially when we add in what we’ve gotten for Ruby’s group across the rest of this volume. The counters of, “They need and deserve a break. Why won’t you let them be happy?” fall flat when we ignore that this group has been animated as consistently goofing off post-premiere. Sneaking into the guarded military base of a former friend? Tube shenanigans! Need to find your way around? Funny Penny moment! Semblance reveal? Cutesy chibi explanation! Need to do more sneaking? Silly coffee plan! Nora gets electrocuted? Joke about how awesome that was! Even Wiess telling Whitley to go to his room reads as funny to the audience.

Ruby in particular has been a problem, given that she’s our main character and the others’ leader. We take our emotional cues primarily from her. Alongside being a part of all these fun and games, her animation during more serious moments has been less than stellar. This is Penny when Nora goes down.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just focused on the fight.

This is Penny when the fight is over.

This is Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. No worry, just chatting about suspicious activity.

This is Penny in the airship, worrying about Nora and the situation they’re in. This is also Ruby in the airship, apparently not worried at all.

This is Ruby when she learns her uncle is in jail. Is there shock? Fear? Horror that he might be in serious trouble? No, she just maintains the same emotion she had before: fury at Harriet.

So when we reach them watching the recording and they look like this:

No, I’m not convinced that this trio is taking the situation seriously, or that they really care about the people involved. I know they’re supposed to care, they all obviously care from a meta perspective, but the “obviousness” of that only exists in our personal understanding of the characters if we don’t see it on screen. I completely believe that Penny is worried about Nora because she’s animated expressing that worry. I completely believe that JRY are in the middle of a warzone because they’re (mostly) animated as fearful and angry. The rest of Ruby’s team has a scared line from Blake and Weiss holding Nora’s hand, whereas the majority of the emotion across this adventure has been indifference or playfulness. That’s a problem given how horrible the events of this Volume have been, most of which the group is aware of. 

All of which is an incredibly long-winded way of saying that this

finally feels appropriate. Well done, RWBY. 

Alright, this recap is already over 7k long so I want to return to our plot with the summarized: IRONWOOD WAS RIGHT. He said they couldn’t withstand a head on attack by Salem and he was right. It literally took seconds for her grimm to burrow into Atlas, knock out a tower, and disable the shield. Everyone still claiming that leaving is useless because it’s oh so obvious Salem’s grimm could fly however high it wants (when did we learn that?) are ignoring that leaving was at least a plan with some kind of hope attached to it. And, given her focus on the Staff, may have saved Mantle by drawing Salem’s attention away from the city. The point is we don’t know. All we do know is that Ironwood tried to do something in the face of hopeless odds, Ruby’s team stopped him, and now look, everything is awful. No one could have possibly seen that coming. 

Salem: “It’s time.”

I’m very pleased that Salem is finally using the tools at her disposal. Upon reflection, I still don’t buy why she had to wait. “Well, she was waiting for the grimm goo.” She couldn’t have used flying grimm to take out the tower? Take a burrowing grimm and give it wings? She couldn’t have used the goo that was apparently inside her whale the whole time?

It’s all very convenient. In the sense that we’re drawing out the volume by having the villain inexplicably hang back, despite not having a good reason to. In the sense that—unless Ruby’s message comes back to bite her—the villain’s passivity also conveniently let the heroes accomplish the one goal they were desperate to achieve. All of that’s still not good, but at least the Volume seems to be moving out of the “not good” category and into the “slightly better” territory. 

Although, as I just acknowledged to a friend, RWBY seems to alternate for me. Every time I have an episode where I think, “Okay, there are still massive problems here, but I can see a glimmer of hope” the next episode is inevitably the pits. 

Still, grabbing onto that hope with both hands: Atlas should be decimated, folks! Grimm are swarming, our idiot heroes herded everyone directly under the city, the world should be panicking, and the cold should still be killing people if the story remembers that it exists. At this point my only question is wtf our heroes are supposed to do next, but regardless of what the plot gives us, it’s going to be wild. You all know what’s coming. Next week is our final episode before a two month hiatus, which means we’re going to witness all kinds of awful and then end on a six week cliffhanger. It’s inevitable, so best to emotionally prep for that now lol.

I don’t believe we have any Bingo updates, with the exception of edging towards a few: “Winter betrays Ironwood,” “Army of grimm conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians,” “Atlas somehow survives,” and “Ironwood dies” being the most notable. We’ll have to see what, if anything, gets checked off next Saturday.

As always, thank you so much for reading (I feel like I don’t say that enough :D) and I’ll see you next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[wirewitchviolet]

A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

[spaceseinensam]

BNHA Chapter 305/306 spoilers,

Be warned

Also longer post, sorry

Look, I'm as shocked as everybody else that the leaks for 306 show Deku straight up leaving Hero Academia™, that his classmates get a letter and nothing else, that this probably means we're getting a Deku centric arc now and also very likely a time skip that'll show the progress of Deku and 1-A (now hopefully with Shinsou in it) over their separated times, and believe me, I'm screaming.

But

At the end of Chapter 305, when Deku is still in the Mind Jedi Council of Former OFA Users©, after they tested Deku on his will, they turn around and are like "now let's show you what your other future quirks hold" and we get shown the two mysterious former users as close as we've never seen them before

Am I the only one excited about this??? Like BRUH, we made theories for months about these two and I know there was nothing big revealed about them (and probably won't be for a long time), but they're not just silhouettes anymore! Anyone?!

And now let's dive into them: the one on the right in the picture above is pretty much Bakugou. Like, there's no way around saying it, he just looks exactly like an older version of Bakugou, just look at his full body shots:

He even has the gauntlets, like guys, come on! Of course that doesn't mean he is Bakugou, or even the time travel adult version of Bakugou from my favorite bnha theory "BAK U GO", it just means that he is someone that very strongly resembles Bakugou, at least appearance wise (from the back), which holds potential for Deku seeing him as such and lots of drama. Though I personally would go absolutely crazy for future-past OFA holder Bakugou with a completely insane time travel plot, I'm also excited to see Horikoshi just lean into that resemblance, bc you can bet Deku notices that the former user looks like his childhood bully friend.

The other one is a bit more tricky. From the silhouettes a while back people deduced that it could potentially be Kirishima (which I was 10000% percent on board with bc EXCUSE ME BAKUGOU AND KIRISHIMA GO TIME TRAVELING HEYOOO) but now the body reveal™ of the user just added more confusion to the question of who he is/was/resembles and why he was kept as a shilouette as well.

His full body shot doesn't show any strong resemblance to anyone I could think of, he looks like a pretty average hero to be honest.

Another closeup of him during the chapter shows that the things on his shoulders people interpreted as Kirishima's wheel thingies back in shilouette only days, are actually tubes of some sort? Pipes maybe? Though that doesn't entirely destroy the theory of it potentially being Kirishima, it's a huge difference to what he looks like now.

Speaking of that: I know Horikoshi likes to be inconsistent with hair colors and BNHA characters are notorious for dying their hair to look different (looking at Dabi here), but look at the hair and hair colors on the two. The Bakugou resembling one basically has Bakugou's exact hair style, but it's colored with the grey tone Horikoshi usually uses for brown or other not-too-dark-haircolors, but not Bakugou's blonde, which is personally throwing me for a loop. The other former user on the other hand has no grey tone coloring on his hair, so it's most likely meant to be blonde or white or just a very light color in general. This could set in stone it's not Kirishima in any way, bc Kirishima has dyed red hair (usually represented through dark grey tones in the manga) or originally black hair, unless he super-bleached it before going time-traveling.

But overall, I'm just here breaking my head in two thinking of who the non-Bakugou-looking former user could be or resemble or represent. Why was he kept as a shilouette? We still don't know who they are at all, but at least for the Bakugou-looking one there are a few reasons why he was kept in shadows up to now, both on the side of the former users and storytelling-wise: strong resemblance to one of Deku's closest friends thus potential for Deku trusting him too much/trusting him not at all/Deku being scared and overthinking, potential of him being Bakugou in some way (BAK U GO theorists represent), just the general coolness of someone looking like Bakugou among the former users. But the other one? Someone with a spiky pony tail and little pipes on his shoulders? Someone with a headband? Who is he???

AND WHY ARE BOTH OF THEM FACING THE WALL LIKE NAUGHTY CHILDREN? THEIR CHAIRS ARE LITERALLY EMPTY, SO THEY GOT UP AND STOOD AGAINST THE WALL BEFORE DEKU CAME JUST TO BE DRAMATIC AND REVEAL THEMSELVES IN AN EPIC FASHION AND ALSO I WANT TO SEE THEIR FACES AND WHAT THEIR QUIRKS ARE, HORIKOSHI YOU BASTARD WHY DO YOU LIKE TO JUMP FROM CLIFFHANGER TO CLIFFHANGER SO MUCH?!? I NEED ANSWERS!!

[sombreboy]

Mused obsession (3)

Written by @sombreboy​​ as Jungkook & @chimoona​​​​ as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog​​​​

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 6k ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, so much drunken sexual tension, Jimin has a praise kink what's new, masturbation(both), blowjob, cum on Jimin's pretty face, cum on the floor, cum eating, just a bunch of cum, Luxe sheets with a thread count over 500.

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

How the tables had turned. Just yesterday Jimin was teasing Jungkook with a graze to the thigh, leaning so close he could hear his heart beat in his ears. "No questions asked...right?” “N-no questions,” Jimin confirms, not wholly nervous but aching with anticipation. H is wine-stained lips purse naturally as he tries to relax his tense muscles. The buildup is torture, but he has a feeling Jungkook will make it well worth the wait.

Jungkook squeezes the blondes thigh a little harder, internally cursing at how firm it is in his grasp. His eyes roam down Jimin’s features for a moment, as if giving himself time to think.

What does he want? After a moment that felt like forever, but in reality was merely a minute, Kook’s lips finally part as he mumbles out his slurry words. “Let me take pictures of you." It sounds harmless, but what Jungkook has in mind was far from innocent.

Jimin’s eyebrow quirks at the request. “What...kind of pictures?” He asks, but quickly clasps his hands over his mouth, breaking the one rule he himself set for the bet. “I mean…uh…” He tries to recoup regardless of his slip. He can’t help his curiosity. He wasn’t expecting a request so formal yet intimate. A personal photoshoot, in the private mansion of Jeon Jungkook of GJK industries? Surely this offer has never been extended to anyone else beside himself, and the thought alone makes him feel drunker by the second. “Lead the way,” Jimin confirms with false confidence.

Jungkook breathes out a chuckle through his nose, lifting a finger to wiggle it in front of Jimin’s nose. “No questions.” Slowly, his finger inches closer to drag the pad of it down the blonde’s nose bridge until it playfully pokes the button tip. “Come,” he slurs out, dangerously close to having a double meaning. Jungkook stands to his feet, wobbling slightly as he extends his arm to Jimin with tattoos on clear display as he does so. “I ne-eed you…” The younger pauses to take a breath, gathering himself—the floaty feeling mostly foreign to him, not used to drinking often after all, “...In my studio,” he clarifies.

With Jungkook’s help, Jimin stands to his feet, wobbling to hold his balance. He grips onto the tattooed arm and glides his fingertips over the needle-poked skin, memorizing the patterns like braille. He must look like a drunken idiot but he doesn’t care. He’s far past caring and it's greatly due to the fine wine and sexual tension that, at this point, he would need to cut with a jackhammer. “You have me,” he slurs. It’s supposed to be a question, confirming that the tall man had a firm grasp on him while they shuffle to the studio, but it’s laden with double-meaning. He leaves it at that, pleased to have the younger interpret it in any way he pleases.

Jungkook’s firm grasp doesn’t falter as he guides the elder to his personal studio. It’s a large room with no windows to disturb the artificial light fixtures, placed neatly around the place. His eyes glance over stacks of printed photographs on his desk, scattered out as he was rummaging through them this morning. They’re from last night’s shoot. Every single photo, different variations of Jimin—his new favorite subject. His eyes flicker over to the framed photos on the wall by the desk, filled with his personal favorite shots of the blonde. From a candid closeup of him being surprised as he walked into the glass-mirrored room, to the shot of him dropped to his knees, skin glistening with sweat from swinging the sledgehammer.

It’s pure art. Jimin is pure art. Now, Jungkook has this gorgeous man to himself, ready to do whatever he asks for. He snaps out of his thoughts as he looks over at Jimin, wondering if he notices the photos on the walls too.

But to Jimin, all he sees is a man dedicated to his work. It strikes him differently to see the photos printed in a large format. His drunken self doesn’t even process the fact that he was the only subject matter displayed on Jungkook’s studio walls. His wide eyes transfix on the fine details of each photo as he follows them down the line. It’s proof, Jeon Jungkook is the most dedicated photographer he’s ever had the pleasure of working with. “Which is your favorite?” Jimin asks, mentally taking note to possibly replicate the same expression in their impromptu shoot. He really wants to make the moment perfect.

Jungkook hums in thought as he’s barely paying attention to the photos on the walls. Instead, his attention is tunnel-visioned on the blonde, right next to him, in the flesh. “I think tonight...will be my favorite,” he murmurs, letting go of Jimin to head over towards the spot he just knows he needs to see Jimin pose, grabbing his camera along the way. The set looks as if it was prepared in advance. A large, furry white rug is placed on the floor at the center, surrounded by copious amounts of space. Some lights are placed around it, almost like there had been a shoot there before...which wasn’t the case, technically . It was prepared with Jimin in mind, but never did Jungkook believe he’d actually have him here... this quickly. “Stand on the rug,” Jungkook instructs. His voice is clearer now, even if he’s still in a haze. He beckons the model with his slender, tattooed fingers.

Jimin does as instructed, falling into the rhythm the younger set the past couple of days during their promo shoot. He’s almost positive he knows the next step, itching to shuck off his jacket and bend to his knees, but he’s patient and waits for instruction. Jungkook’s towering, lean body makes him feel smaller than he is. He’s ready to submit—to be a good boy for the victor.

The photographer steps closer to Jimin to inspect him further, as if he doesn’t already have every single detail of the elders face ingrained in his memory. Either way, reaches out to brush the blonde fringe away from his face. “No questions, okay?” He reminds, as if he needs to give another confirmation of this before he continues. He knows that as soon as he starts, he won’t be able to stop. Then he backs a few steps before he sits down on a stool with his camera held high, turning it on with a flick. He peeks through the screen, the small wall of technology serving as a detachment from reality, only spurring his own fantasies to grow. “Undress... slowly .”

The model knew it was coming. How could he not? But the moment those words slip from the younger’s sweet cherry lips, his mind numbs. He’s working solely on instinct and pure lust-driven adrenaline. He could feel the tension engulfing his entire being from the moment he first touched Jungkook; feeling fire ignite his skin to burn . There’s not a moment of hesitance as Jimin slowly begins to slide his jacket off his arms, looking down bashfully at his body, pretending he doesn’t realize the effect it has on anyone who looks. He’s a professional after all.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his camera at the tortuous show Jimin puts on, or rather...takes off. With eyes trained on the elder through the camera, he zooms into the parts he loves the most; his lips, his neck… However, soon, he’s sure the entirety of the blonde will be his favorite part. “Shirt too.” His voice is low and smooth. “Then turn around, let me see your back.”

Jimin trips over his own feet as he turns around, which would have been embarrassing at any regular modelling event, however, he lightly laughs—so airy and innocent. He turns around so the photographer can get a good look as he very slowly lifts his shirt over his head and casts it to the floor. He leaves his Chanel necklace on as he loves the way the thin material dances along his neckline, teasing the lens with faint flashes of light off the diamonds that lay there. He begins to unbuckle his pants and looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s being watched, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Are you enjoying yourself, Jeon?” Shit —he asked another question. He really can’t help his praise kink, wondering what’s going though Jungkook’s mind as he slowly slides the pants down past his strong thighs.

The shutter of the camera going off echoes in the quiet room—the only other noises heard would be their voices and Jungkook’s breathing as it gradually grows heavier. It’s as if he’s in a trance, time and surroundings long forgotten. Everything is about Jimin and his gorgeous body slowly coming into view. A low groan catches in Jungkook’s throat at the sight of the blonde’s muscular back, wasting no time in capturing the moment on video as his focus lowers down to Jimin’s behind. “Fuck, Jimin...you’re breathtaking.” He breathes out the words in a low groan, shifting in his seat as the aching in his pants becomes less easy to ignore. Eyes are completely lost in the way Jimin’s ass looks slightly bent over while peeling the pants down his thighs.

Jungkook’s compliment fuels Jimin to move faster, but he reels in his desire, taking his time with the final articles of clothing. First, he bends deeper to untie his shoes, leaving his briefs for the final reveal. He takes one shoe off, followed by the other, then places them gently by his discarded shirt. Pants slide down completely and are kicked to the side. He turns around to face Jungkook, not realizing the flash from his camera stopped and that he was being recorded. …Not that he would mind much, he likes to be admired in any form, especially by the younger man. Jimin’s hand slowly traces down his chest and taut abs, over his clothed cock, which is now beginning to strain uncomfortably against the fabric. He glides his hand over his length torturously slow, relaxing his face, closing his eyes—completely lost in the moment.

The red light flashing on the photographer’s camera indicates that he’s still shamelessly recording—the content is nothing but the most valuable thing he will ever own. ...Except for the man himself.

“You’re driving me crazy , Jimin…” Jungkook hisses through his teeth, now holding the camera with one hand as the other unbuttons his shirt, growing hot. “You’re doing so well,” he praises and he becomes impatient with the buttons, opting to simply rip the shirt open. Buttons scatter on the floor around him, exposing the middle of his torso as he lets the shirt hang from his shoulders. Never once do his eyes leave Jimin as the camera pans out to get the full view of the blonde touching himself—every expression saved into a digital memory for him to keep.

Throwing caution to the wind, Jimin strokes deliberately, snaking his hand underneath the waistband to wrap around his shaft. “F-feels good…” he whines. He opens his eyes and stares hungrily at the sight before him—Jungkook, camera in-hand, looking a hot mess with his shirt torn open. He no longer cares about breaking rules. They’ve broken one too many rules in their partnership already, what’s another? “Want to see?” He asks, slowly peeling the fabric lower with his other hand.

 Jungkook peeks over his camera, eyes blown wide with need. The slow tease is tortuous, but he absolutely loves it. “Yes, take it off.” His eyes flicker between Jimin’s, roaming down his body until it lands on where the elders hand is hiding. Kook licks his lips in anticipation as his free hand now palms his own aching bulge, camera still held high to capture every single second of the scene in front of him. “Hurry.”

Jimin tugs the waistband low, gripping his hard cock in his hand, silver rings gliding over the sensitive skin. The briefs fall to the floor and are carelessly kicked off. It’s entrancing to see how eager Jungkook is for him, boosting Jimin’s confidence as he quickens his pace, using the dewey beads of precum to ease the glide. It wasn’t a mistake Jimin requested red wine—the rich liquid always makes him shameless and bold enough to do things he wouldn’t normally. He moans aloud, just for the photographer.

Jungkook’s bottom lip is clamped between his teeth with heavy breaths forcing their way through his nose. His chest heaves up and down slowly. The sounds coming from Jimin are sinful, and it drives the younger man closer towards madness.

How long could he go without craving his touch? The answer is simple. Not long at all.

“Baby....” The pet name naturally slips through Kook's teeth as his tattooed hand squeezes the prominent outline of his length, drawing out a low moan of his own. “Come here,” he nudges with his chin towards the open space on the floor between his manspread, eyes burning with need for the blonde.

No questions asked, right?

Never one to argue with the creative flow of a visionary, Jimin dutifully sits on his knees, resting his smaller frame between Jungkook’s parted thighs. He leans forward and presses his pout against the hardworking tattooed hand, flicking his tongue out to trace circles along the ink. “Yes, sir,” he muffles, lapping hot open-mouthed kisses down the hand until he snakes a finger between his thick lips. He wants Jungkook to know exactly what he can have—no questions asked.

A series of breathy curses slip through Jungkook’s lips as he stares down at Jimin, aiming his camera for a good closeup of the man’s lips, eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans back just a bit to get a better view, replacing the finger teasing between Jimin’s lips with his thumb and resting the rest of the fingers underneath his chin. “Your lips are so pretty,” he praises, swiping the pad of his thumb across Jimin’s upper lip—the pout being one of his favorite features.

“Thank you, sir,” Jimin whispers before sliding the thumb into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. He wets the digit well and pulls back, releasing it with a pop. He stares up at the man with wide lustful eyes, looking directly into the camera lens. “Please…,” he pauses, nipping his lip, “Please let me suck your cock, sir. I want to taste you.”

Jungkook feels like his breath is constantly forced out of his lungs everytime Jimin opens his mouth...he’s that fucking entranced by the man. Whatever he did to end up in this very moment, he’s grateful. The grip around his camera is tightening, internally swearing that if he were to squeeze it any tighter, it would threaten to burst in his hand. He slightly shakes at the tension built up in his body. “Go on, then. Take it out.” His lips curled up in a small smile, withdrawing his hand to let it settle on his thigh as he waits for the blonde to get to work. “It’s all yours.”

Jimin nearly drools at the sight before him, ignoring the ache in his own lap for Jungkook’s permission to touch. Now fully hard, every inch of the younger man is visible through the thin fabric of his underwear. The model firmly digs his shaking fingers under Jungkook’s waistband at both sides and tugs down until the length springs free, standing tall against his abdomen. There really are no words Jimin can use to articulate his excitement, so he shows it with his hands and skillful mouth. He delicately wraps his hand around Jungkook’s fat cock and strokes him just as he would himself, working him up and down gradually. He flattens his tongue against the underside and draws it up painfully slow, holding his eyes on the lens the whole time. Old habits die hard—he can’t help but be a bit of a tease even when he suffers just as much.

“Ah, fuck…” Jungkook’s thigh muscles tense. Automatically, his body reacts with greed before he’s able to control his impulses, hips twitching upwards to chase for friction. “Don’t tease,” he says with a stern tone, letting his free hand tangle in Jimin’s blonde curls. He tugs lightly to bring him closer towards his length, hoping to draw out some whines in the process.

“Mm…Y-yes, sir,” Jimin breathes, wrapping his lips around Jungkook’s large reddened tip. The sting in his roots from the younger’s grip tingles throughout his entire body. To be controlled by this man in a professional setting is exhilarating all on it’s own, but in this context…it feels electrifying . He wants to worship this man on his knees for all eternity, fighting to swallow around his punishing length.

‘yes, sir’ —the two words Jungkook never knew he wanted to continuously hear tumble from Jimin’s lips over and over until now. It makes him feel powerful, and he is... He’s one of the most powerful men in the industry, and he can have anything he wants by the simple wave of his hand, but this ... It beats every piece of wealth he could ever possess. His control over the man who had willingly dropped to his knees to please...now that was priceless. “What a good boy..” Jungkook purrs, inching the camera lens closer to Jimin’s face. The focus for this shot will be the way his length sinks deeper into the elders mouth at the photographer’s demand, in the form of a hand pushing the back of his neck. “‘Let’s see how much you can take.”

Jimin glows under the praise. He feels even needier by the sounds he was drawing from above, driven to make Jungkook fill his large house with only the sounds of pleasure he was administering. He braces himself clumsily on Jungkook’s inner thigh for leverage as his mouth begins to get fucked into. On queue, Jimin hallows his cheeks for a tight suction as he quickens his pace, making the younger grip his hair even harder, guiding his head exactly where he wants it.

Beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook’s temples, trickling down as he’s practically taking control; the grip on the blonde’s curls tighten further. “So good…” Jungkook drops the camera to the floor with a loud thud, with no regard to whether it would break or not. He wants to indulge in the reality of the situation, letting both his hands control Jimin’s head as hips fuck his cock down his throat. Jungkook throws his head back, lips parting in heavy breaths and moans that constantly slip through them. With every groan, the adam's apple underneath his clammy skin bobs. “Shit, you’re everything …”

Jimin focuses on shallow breaths, uncontrollably swallowing around Jungkook’s cock as it slides past his gag reflex. Without the camera to perform to, Jimin’s glazed eyes stare up, directly at Jungkook. Just seeing his sweat-dampened skin, his parted lips, and hearing the erotic sounds that escape them is enough to let Jimin know just how close he’s getting. Jimin fumbles to wrap his hand around his own length, struggling to resist any longer.

Indulging in the moment for as long as humanly possible, Jungkook continuously thrusts into Jimin’s mouth until he feels the familiar heat pooling in his lower abdomen. The muscles in his thighs tense up with every slick stroke against the blonde’s tongue. “I’m g-gonna cum soon…” He stutters out his breathy words, head bending forward to get a good look of Jimin desperately trying to please him. The grip in the model’s hair loosens slightly to let him work on his own length. “Keep going,’’ Jungkook says as he reaches for the fallen camera on the floor. Video is still recording as he guides the lens back to focus on Jimin’s pouty lips and glazed eyes. “A little more… Use your hands, wanna cum on your face…”

Those last words make Jimin jump in his skin, swirling his tongue around Jungkook sloppily with wet smacks and stroking himself faster in tandem. It has to be perfect—every fibre of his being sings to please the young photographer and give the performance of a lifetime. His own skin beads with sweat as he works himself up to finish, even harder at the promise of feeling Jungkook’s hot cum on his face.

The crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows become more and more prominent with every passing second, watching Jimin through his camera lens once again, feeding his obsession further. His hips start to tense and jut upwards for even more friction. “Wait, wait, f-fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He hisses out, not giving Jimin much time to make a show out of it. Instead the younger presses his hand against Jimin’s neck to force him further down on his knees, allowing his cock to pop out of his mouth. He quickly grabs a hold of his length and strokes himself right in front of Jimin’s face, letting the tip graze the soft, damp pout. A loud, drawn out moan follows the moment Jungkook cums. His hand shakily records his next piece of art; Jimin’s face covered in himself.

The model closes his eyes as he feels the first pat of cum hit his lips. Out of instinct, his tongue darts out to lick it away; salt and musk coating his taste buds. More spurts tap his face and gleam under the studio lights, making the beauty even more picturesque, painted just for Jungkook. “Mm…thank you,” he breathes, voice breaking into a whimper. He opens his eyes, face shining in the younger’s release, wanting to give him the best shot possible. However, Jimin never stops touching himself and begins to break. “F-fuck—“ A strangled moan catches in his tender throat as his hand continues to work steadily. He looks up at Jungkook with stars in his eyes and damp lips parted, begging for his own release. “ Please , sir…wanna cum too.” He edges himself, barely touching his hard cock until he receives permission from the victor. “…m-may I, please?”

Jungkook quickly gathers himself, sobered from his release, which only made this so much better. He’s able to properly focus on the man, on his knees beneath him. He gently gives his own length a slow stroke, quietly exhaling from the oversensitivity. “You may, you’ve been nothing but a good boy,” he coos, suddenly standing from his seat and pulling his pants back up. He pushes the stool aside before dropping to his knees in front of Jimin, getting a perfect view of the wrecked mess—a blonde angel. “Cum on the floor,” he instructs, focusing the camera lens on the way Jimin’s face distorts with pleasure.

Jimin nods dutifully and bites his lip in response to the praise. He relinquishes all power to the younger man; drunk and so incredibly weak from pent-up lust. With Jungkook’s permission and explicit instructions, Jimin leans forward and braces his palm on the floor while the other picks up the pace. He barely has to touch himself, he’s already so close to breaking. A string of curses escape his throat as he doubles over and breathes heavily, moaning aloud and stroking himself until he shakes. “C-cumming… fuck ..” His muscles spasm and contract—cum pooling on the floor beneath him. He sits back on his heels and looks up at Jungkook, exhausted and damp with sweat, cock twitching in his palm.

“ Wow …” Jungkook stares in awe, the same way he’d look at Jimin during their photoshoots. It doesn’t matter what state the blonde is in; he could be put together and styled to perfection, or a fucked out, sweaty mess beneath him with a face glistening in cum. It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s perfection .  “You’re incredible…” the photographer breathes out as he pans the zoom, getting a full image of the scene on his recording. Jungkook reaches out to swipe his thumb across the elders cheek and gathers some of his cum before bringing it to Jimin’s lips, urging him to lick his finger clean. “Look at the mess you’ve made on my floor…” he says coyly, as if he wasn’t the one who instructed Jimin to do so, “Clean it up, will you? With your tongue.”

Jimin’s dextrous tongue snakes around Jungkook’s thumb, sucking it into his mouth sweetly before releasing it, completely cleaned of the sticky mess. The next request was past a boundary Jimin hadn’t pushed, but felt so eager to cross. He had a hunch the younger man was kinky behind closed doors, but he didn’t expect his mind to be pure filth. He loves discovering more about him. “Yes, Sir,” he nods again and levels himself to the floor on hands and knees, bent over like an obedient dog. He laps a rope of his own release onto his flattened tongue, pulling it up to allow Jungkook to record it going into his mouth, slowly, closing his eyes. Moans and wet laps fill the silence until the floor is sparkling clean, without a trace of his warm cum. He wonders what else he has yet to discover about the man that is perhaps even more sinister and degrading than what took place tonight in his mansion. “All clean.”

Jungkook is lost in his own world through the lens, making sure he captures everything in an angle that he knows will drive him absolutely mad later, as he will likely replay the content over and over. He hums in approval as he reaches out to grasp Jimin’s jaw between his fingers, squeezing his cheeks to amplify the pout of those plushy lips. “Good boy.” He praises, finally turning the camera off and placing it on the floor to give his full attention. “There’s one more thing that I want before we’re done for today,” he murmurs, slowly inching closer to the angel, “want to kiss you.”

“Mm,” Jimin hums at the mere idea of Jungkook tasting him on his lips. “Kiss me,” he permits, melting into his touch, leaning forward to close the distance himself. It’s timid and slow, almost more intimate than sucking his cock. Jimin parts his lips to take him in deeper, needing to be closer, letting Jungkook guide the way. His mind is swimming, still drunk and coming down from his euphoric state. It feels like the perfect wrap-up after a tiring shoot. Yet, it feels much more than a reward for a job well-done. Perhaps it’s the glimmer of childlike innocence in Jungkook’s eyes that make Jimin’s heart pool in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he needs this more than he thought he would. He has all the attention he could ever want in the world of fashion, but he hasn’t felt this appreciated in a long time.

Jungkook’s hand moves to gently cup the elders cheek, drawing him closer into the kiss as he lets his lips slowly explore the other male’s. A little cautious at first, but quickly, he starts to move more naturally against Jimin’s lips, already growing addicted to the feeling. They’re silky smooth, plump, like a kiss from an angel itself. Fuck… Jungkook is whipped. “Would you like a bath before bed?” He casually asks; the domestic feel of his words are completely unfitting for the situation, yet...not. He leans in for another chaste kiss, unable to keep himself away for too long now that he’d gotten a taste.

“Before…bed…” Jimin’s words trail quietly as he didn't expect to be staying much longer, let alone overnight. Hell, he didn’t expect a lot of things to happen past his fumbling attempt to beat the younger man at his own game—Overwatch. Even then, he should attribute most of what happened to his poor handling of a controller. He could only imagine what would have happened if he accepted the offer of sugary banana milk in place of red wine. “O-kay,” he solidifies, stumbling over his words, suddenly shy under the kindness being bestowed upon him. He seals his answer with a kiss, full lips lingering on the other man’s and breathing in the intoxicating scent of cologne and natural musk. He’s in no shape to go home anyhow. The relaxing offer of a bath felt so good after the day he had.

Jungkook pulls back from the kiss to get up on his feet, effortlessly lifting Jimin within the same motion as he snakes his arm around the elder’s hip. Without a word, he guides the two of them towards the grand bathroom upstairs, paying no mind towards the maid throwing small glances from the hallway where she’s cleaning. She’s never seen the young Jeon Jungkook bring such company to his home before, so the obvious look of surprise was hard to miss. A s the door closes behind them, the younger man prepares to fill up the bathtub with hot water. He pours in some bubbles with a mild fresh scent– because, well, he loves bubbles. His childlike bunny smile widens as he turns around. “Get in, I’ll wash you.”

Jimin gives him a small smile in response and steps into the warm water. It envelops him as he slides in, soothing and fragrant like Jungkook’s long fluffy hair. It’s a calming scent that Jimin now associates with the photographer, reminding him of the studio couch where they first sat close.  Jimin is small in the lavish tub—it’s almost comical how the large bubbles nearly reach his chin. He’s still sobering but already feels much less drunk cradled in the calming water. But one important element is missing— “You wanted to wash me, Jeon?” Jimin tongues his red plushy lip and nods for Jungkook to join him in the tub. “Plenty of room for us both…”

Jungkook nods eagerly as he gets rid of the clothes covering his body, throwing them off to the side before stepping inside the tub to sink down behind Jimin. The bubbles rise with the added body into the water. “See it as a reward for being so good to me.” He praises, reaching out for the shampoo bottle to squirt a generous amount into his hand. He inhales the scent. It’s his favorite, and now the blonde would smell like it too. It’s almost as if he’s marking the elder once more in small ways. He gently starts to massage the shampoo into Jimin’s scalp, taking his time to cover every inch of the gorgeous locks. Jungkook loves to touch him, he can’t get enough.

The blonde’s eyes flutter shut, “Mm feels so good…thank you.” He leans back into Jungkook’s chest, allowing each of his muscles to go slack as the pleasurable sensation of fingers running through his hair puts him at ease. This is all very, very new to Jimin, but he’s quickly getting used to it. The slow and rhythmic motion gives him time to reflect on the day. “Do you think the show went well without me?” Jimin speaks openly, eyes still closed. Today’s event was just another critical component of his project and can’t help worrying that he may have jeopardized it by leaving early. Deep down, especially in this moment with Jungkook’s lean body pressing against his back, it’s hard to have regrets.

“You showed up, that’s all you needed to do,” Jungkook reassures with a soothing voice. His long fingers comb through the blonde curls until there’s a decent amount of lather builds up. When he deems it enough, he leans back further and pushes Jimin down gently. “Sink down further please, let me wash this off…”

Jimin slides his slick and soapy body further down into the water and cradles his head in the curve of Jungkook’s chest. At this angle, all he has to do is open his eyes to watch adoringly as the younger man combs his hands through his hair. He’s so relaxed at this point, accepting every bit of care with a contented sigh. Jimin smiles meekly, “How are you so good at this? Plenty of practice, I assume?”

The younger cups water into his hand as he washed off the suds, gently running his fingers through Jimin’s hair in the process. He smiles, nose scrunching up as he shakes his head. “No, it’s a first for me. I’ve seen it in movies, though,” he admits as the grin on his lips widens in light embarrassment. He finishes rinsing the blonde’s hair clean, then snakes his arms around his torso to pull him closer against his own. The intimacy is just as good, if not better, then the things that went down earlier.

“You’re a natural,” Jimin compliments, resting against his chest fully, “and so comfortable.” He turns his head to look up at Jungkook and admire the glowing sheen of sweat that tickles down his strong neck, over his collarbones. God, he really is beautiful. Jimin can’t wait to tailor a suit for the man, making good on his promise earlier. Every angle of his body deserves to be hugged tight.  As the hot bath water cools, Jimin begins to feel very sleepy—the long day finally catching up. Trailing shortly behind, Jungkook also began to feel sleepiness creep up on him. However, he still gives himself a few minutes of comfortable silence to simply enjoy feeling Jimin skin to skin. “Hm..” He hums in content, eyes drinking in the pretty boy beneath him, “Alright… Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow’s a long day.” Jungkook gets up to his feet with water trickling down his body, then reaches down to help Jimin up as well. He steps out of the tub and grabs two bathrobes, handing one to the elder to get warm, then guides him to his room.

Just as Jimin settles into the bathrobe, thinking it’s the cosiest thing he had ever slipped his naked body into, he sits on Jungkook’s large bed and discovers it’s even cosier.  Luxe sheets, with a thread count over 500. It isn’t something the model has dabbled in; impressing that the younger man has a taste for such things. He notes that any article of clothing made for him must be of the highest quality—no exceptions. Positively high on cloud nine, Jimin settles deeper into the bed and wonders where Jungkook ran off to. No doubt tipping the maid to keep quiet.

Jungkook returned to his studio to pick the camera off the floor. He brings it with him as he inspects the content, shameless of the sounds of Jimin’s moans and his own praises echoing, mindlessly going to the kitchen to grab himself a trusted banana milk before bed. His eyes sparkle at the video. The touch of the elder is still fresh. Hell, he’s literally upstairs in his bed. Slowly, he saunters back towards the bedroom with a camera in hand and a banana milk straw in his mouth. His gaze lifts to see his maid stand in the hallway, trying her best to seem unfazed by the lewd sounds coming from his device. “Isn’t his voice just sweeter than any other?” Jungkook smirks at the maids reaction. Obviously nodding out of respect. “Yeah… I want to keep him,” he mutters, “Make sure there’s breakfast ready in the morning.” He pays the maid no more attention before stepping inside his bedroom with the camera turned off. He places it on the nightstand along with the empty milk container, slipping out of his robe to slide under the covers next to Jimin and immediately wrapping his strong arms around him to hold close. “Missed me?’‘

“Mhm...” Jimin’s voice tapers, already partially asleep. “Missed me , Jeon?” He pushes his ass into the curve of Jungkook’s hips and feels the heat of his groin radiating into his bare flesh. His cocky confident attitude slowly returning as the alcohol burns from his system. Yet, he’s too restless to push any further. It feels good to be a bit of a tease right before bed, but he has his limits. “I’ll dream about you...,” Jimin mumbles into the pillow, muscles relaxing and eyes falling shut, “...Sir.”

Jungkook presses his nose to Jimin’s blonde curls and inhales the scent, which is now a mix between natural musk and his own shampoo. “Sleep well, butterfly,” he whispers, hugging Jimin tight as he too feels his body ache for sleep.

After a while of just...enjoying the moment, sleep finally finds Jungkook as well.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.