#and then Ben. who is the only adult. who has time to wake up and really register. and who can ONLY see the horror

[novelconcepts]

This show is incredible, and has so many scenes that are just haunting.

[fayes-fics]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex, passing mention of oral sex, all sorts of feelings.

Word Count: 7.9 k I'm so sorry...

Build a blurb prompt 1: Benedict 👅 smut 🌲 mutual pining 🛌 only one bed - from @amillcitygirl Build a blurb prompt 2: modern Benedict 👅smut 👥friends to lovers 🌲mutual pining 🛌only one bed - from anon

Authors Note: *beep beep* make way for the trope bus, it’s coming thru!! Is this original? No. Was it fun to write? Hell YES! This thing was supposed to be 1k follower celebration Drabble (HAHAHA) but it grew its own legs and took over my brain for the last week. This is my winter epic and I even listened to the namesake song as I was editing it. I hope you all enjoy. Betaed by the total trooper @makaylan and beautiful artwork above made especially by @bridgertontess thank you 🧡

“You’ll just have to stay here,” he shrugs, peering out at the falling snow.

You glance at your watch. It’s 5pm and already dark, snowflakes swirling furiously in the glow cast by the window.

This was not your plan. You are booked onto a late flight back to London tonight. You only came out to the beautiful Highlands for a day in nature after your business trip to Glasgow. OK, and a dose of time with the most handsome friend you have, but mainly for the scenery.

He’s rented a tiny cottage for a week as a painting retreat. Why he would do that in early December is a slight mystery. However, the scenery will undoubtedly be even more breathtaking with a blanket of snow tomorrow—an artist's dream.

“Look, the roads here are tiny and treacherous. It’s too risky to attempt the airport drive tonight in the dark in this snowstorm. I will pay for you to fly home tomorrow instead,” Benedict assures, “penance for not checking the forecast before inviting you?” he winces in the hopes of forgiveness.

“But…” you protest weakly, not exactly hating the idea of being trapped in a remote cottage in the mountains with the man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you care to remember.

“This place is warm,” he points to the roaring fireplace. “And well stocked, in more ways than one,” he adds, gesturing to the kitchenette full of supplies and, with a flourish, to the small selection of single malt bottles on a nearby shelf. “There’s even some festive decor,” he argues.

You are entertained that he believes some sprigs of holly, which he has obviously collected on one of his hikes, count as Christmas decorations. Although, to be fair, wrapped around the bookshelves and candles the way it is, it does look lovely.

‘Yes, but… there's also only one bed,” you argue, nodding to the not-exactly sizable double bed at the other end of the room, partially obscured by a room-dividing bookshelf. Even as you mention it, your belly has a warm fizz at the fleeting thought of waking up pressed against him.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” he says hurriedly in a reassuring tone.

“Ben, don't be ridiculous. You are six feet tall, and that thing is barely five. We are not so young we can just sleep anywhere and still be okay anymore,” you remind him.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder,” he deadpans.

“We are grown-ups; we can share a bed,” trying to keep your tone breezy, but it feels like the reassurance is for yourself as much as him.

You pretend not to see how he swallows thickly at your suggestion, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can fashion a barrier with some throw cushions,” you shrug, a short nervous laugh bubbling up as you secretly chastise yourself for suggesting such a thing.

“No, no,” he rushes out very quickly. “What I mean is… it’s not a big bed, so by the time we do that, we would both be clinging to the edges. Let’s just, as you say, be adults about this and share the best we can.”

“Agreed.” You give a business-like nod, wanting to change the topic.

“Besides, the night is young,” he states, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if reading your mind. “What do you say we cook dinner together? Then, well, it’s card games or jigsaw puzzles, I’m afraid,” he skews his mouth with an apologetic twist.

“Sounds delightful on all counts,” you assure and bump him with your shoulder.

The evening seems to fly by, and the snowstorm outside somewhat abates as you make a delicious spaghetti bolognese together. Even though it's a tiny kitchen space, you make it work, moving around each other with an almost balletic fluidity as soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker. There's no Wi-Fi or even much phone signal out here, but he came prepared with songs loaded onto his laptop. You exchange easy chat about mutual friends and what has been happening since you last saw one another a few weeks before.

As you sit down to eat together, the conversation flow continues. It's one of those meals you sop up the sauce from your plate with the warm bread rolls you serve as a side. Lingering in your chairs long after eating is complete, chatting amiably and animatedly about anything, everything and nothing all at once, with a delicious bottle of scotch.

Later, you take turns in the bathroom, cleaning teeth and changing into pyjama bottoms, and then you drift to the living room area. You watch as Benedict pours you both a nightcap into scotch glasses and glance outside to see the storm has picked up again, large clumps of fluffy snow gather in the corner of the window pane; you feel very cosy in this small but perfectly formed little rustic cottage.

“So, how have you been entertaining yourself all alone here for the last four nights?” you inquire, enjoying the smooth, smoky burn of the single malt.

Benedict is now sprawled across the nearby armchair in the most Benedict way, legs akimbo.

“I’ve read two books, and I’ve slept for nine hours every night,” he confesses, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the top of his glass.

The room feels like it's getting warmer regardless of the fire; how much is due to the delightful fog of whisky in your veins versus the handsome man across from you is indecipherable.

“Are you not lonely?” you blurt out.

“I live alone in London. What's the difference?” his brow knitting in confusion.

“Alone in the city is very different to alone out here,” you offer, “you can’t be that lonely when you’re only twenty feet from your neighbour through a wall.”

“Hmm, never thought about it like that,” his mien turns thoughtful, scratching his palm on the shadow of stubble on his chin.

You hear the rasp from where you sit, and you almost squeak in surprise as your treacherous mind supplies a vivid snapshot of that stubble teasing the soft skin of your lower belly as he looks up at you with a seductive smirk. You have to shake your head to get rid of it.

“Fear of murder out here is different,” you offer, trying to reroute your thoughts.

“Morbid,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream,” you jest, aping the movie line.

He guffaws into his glass. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”

“Murder?!”

“The ability to scream and not be heard,” he clarifies, his tone markedly more languid than before.

“Painting not going well?” you ask with a chuckle.

“It’s going great, but not what I was referring to,” he argues, and you can’t seem to look away from his mouth all of a sudden.

Damn, how much whisky have you had?

“Had a girl here, Bridgerton?” your venture, a flutter in your chest even as you ask.

“Not until now,” he scoffs, but the intensity in his hazy blue stare causes a riot in your stomach.

You have to look down at your feet before you do something stupid, like climb into his lap and suck on his luscious bottom lip.

“Have you been masturbating loudly?” you quip, still looking down, the thought leaving your lips before you can censor it.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, making you look back at him—big mistake. His eyes look stormy, and you can see a vein in his neck pulsing hard. Like you’ve awoken something.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you stutter even as your mind floods with images of just that—him stroking his cock and panting, preferably your name.

The atmosphere feels a little too thick, and you briefly curl your lip into your mouth and bite it to give yourself something else to focus on.

“More whisky?” you offer, standing up and changing the subject.

“Sure.” He holds out his glass, and you swear his fingers intentionally slot between yours as he passes it to you.

You use the few moments it takes to refill your drinks, with your back turned, to gather your thoughts and slow your breathing. Having served, you sink onto the couch again but intentionally shift to face him more directly. The alcohol makes you bold and intrigued to know where this might go. He seems to do the same, his feet looping over the armchair's edge and almost touching yours.

“Hey, do you remember that summer when we were, l think, maybe twelve and…”

“Excuse me, point of order,” you butt in, “If you were twelve, I was ten. OK? Continue…” you motion with your hands for him to go on.

“Yes, thanks for reminding me I am older,” he snarks and skews his mouth into an affectionate pout.

“You are welcome, old man,” you tease with a slight smirk.

“Well, anyway… do you remember that summer Colin came home with headlice? And Ant’s answer was to shave all of our heads? Mum almost had a heart attack when she walked in on that. She was forever grateful he’d only gotten around to doing us three boys. She might have died if we’d made it down to Daph or El…” he is laughing heartily around his scotch glass at the memory.

“Remember it?!?” you pipe up, “of course I do! Don't you remember you were trying to push me in front of your sisters in Ant’s barber line? You seemed concerned to ensure I either got rid of or never got them in the first place; I don't remember which,” you laugh, an ache of fond nostalgia in your chest at little Benedict.

“Well, of course, I’ve always looked out for you,” he rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile a genuinely warm smile at him. He's been a wonderful person in your life for as long as you can remember.

“But you’ve always looked out for me too. I remember you brought me a Malteser every day when I was sick with the mumps.”

“I did?!” your voice incredulous; you do not remember doing so.

“Yes, and I've never forgotten it,” he voices sincerely before he takes a draw of his drink. “But then there is so much about you that is unforgettable, isn't there?” he adds, looking at you with an intensity you don't know what to do with.

“Stop it,” you answer bashfully, embarrassed to meet his gaze, staring beyond his shoulder at the snow falling heavily and sticking to the window in fluffy clumps. “And if we’re on this flattery train, what about you? You think I don’t know it’s been you sending me an ‘anonymous’ rose every single Valentine's Day?”

He gapes at you in surprise. “Wait, how did you know it’s from me?’”

“You are the sweetest person I know. It could never be anyone but you, Ben.” You shrug as if the answer is obvious, “and I know it was never out of pity for the times I’m single because you sent one those years I was with Dan, which used to make him so mad, by the way, and when I was with Julian and Paul….”

“Urgh, Dan deserved to be mad,” his tone dismissive, and his face ticked, “I always hated him.”

“You hated everyone I dated, that you met anyway,” you point out, that fact just dawning on your as you speak it.

“But him the most,” he grouses with a sour expression.

“Why?”

“‘Cos he got the closest to marrying you. And I really didn’t want to have to do that whole stand-up in church and object thing. But, by god, I would have.”

His powerful words stun you; you had no idea how deep his feelings on the subject ran.

“Y… you would?” you stutter.

His eyes are so intense now. Even as he takes a swig, he doesn't look away. “He was not worthy of you,” he declares, slow and deliberate, enunciating each word crisply.

“So, who is?” you ask quietly as you take a sip, the question echoing hollowly in your glass.

“I haven't met anyone yet,” he notes with finality.

You had no idea he had judged every single one of your boyfriends and, what’s more, found all of them to be somehow lacking. In hindsight, he was correct, but he never said anything to you at the time, and you can't decide if you want to hold that against him. It might have saved you a lot of heartache and possibly a lot of money.

“Well, if you meet someone that has the Benedict seal of approval, you’ll be sure to send them my way, yeah?” you volley, your voice light.

He breaks into a smile that makes something flutter strong in your ribcage.

“Certainly. I hope you don't mind waiting until possibly your eighties for me to find a worthy suitor,” he jokes.

“Oh god, really?” you groan, “but I can’t not have sex until then,” you lament and kick your legs out as if in a fit of pique.

“Oh, you can have all the sex you want,” he lobbies back, waving his hand dismissively, “you just can’t fall in love,” his eyes twinkle with mischief you’ve always found beguiling.

“Duly noted,” you giggle.

There is a beat where you just look at each other with a shared fondness that makes your heart ache a little—perhaps under different circumstances, he could be the one person worthy of you, as he puts it.

“Well, that is the last log on the fire dying down. I'm not going out in that damn snow to fetch more, so I think the safest thing to do is get under the covers before it gets too cold in here.” he opines.

“Ben, it's 10:30 pm… really?” you whine, “are you really going to bed already, grandpa?” but as you complain, you stifle a yawn.

“Haha, I saw that yawn!” he retorts triumphantly, “and I've got news for you, missy. You are going to bed too.” He grabs both of your hands and easily hauls you off the sofa.

“Why?!?” you scoff but are secretly enthralled when he rounds behind you, his sizable hands landing warm on your hips and propelling you towards the bedroom area.

“Because I’m not having you crawl under the covers later bringing in all that cold air with you, nope, no thank you, not happening,” he chimes over your shoulder.

“So I have to go to bed now?!” you throw your hands up in the air, but he keeps propelling you forward.

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

You capitulate with a weary sigh. “Urghhh, fine. But I will be up reading for a few more hours, so I hope you can sleep with the light on.”

“Fine with me,” he chuckles, herding you towards the bed. “I once slept in your dorm room when your flatmate was having a full-on dance party. I think I can sleep through your reading.”

You collapse onto the bed giggling at that memory, tugging off your shoes and socks but nothing else as he does the same. He pulls the covers back, and you both settle under, still in your fleecy jumpers. Without your socks, however, your feet feel freezing, and with a wicked grin, you cook up a solution.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with your feet?!? Why are they so cold!!” he exclaims as your toes wrap around his exposed ankle.

He twists to try and get away from you, but your feet chase him under the covers, you laughing, him shrieking.

“My hands are cold too,” you chortle, clamping them onto his surprisingly muscular forearm.

He squeals in the most undignified manner, trying to shake your grip, but you just limpet on harder, giggling in that way only tipsy people do.

There is the most delightful resulting tussle, him trying to wrestle your hands and feet away as you try your damndest to keep them on him—the duvet entwining around all of your limbs.

You end up with his weight and warmth partially on top of you, pinning you down, him triumphantly ensnaring your wrists and holding your hands firmly onto the pillow. Your joint heavy breathing and giggles slowly die out as you stare at each other. Your faces have never been so close before. You have no doubt your pupils are as blown as his, and you are certain that he can feel the racing heartbeat at your wrists where he pins you down. His breath is warm on your cheek.

After a few silent moments, his gaze drops to your mouth; he suddenly mutters an apology and starts to pull away.

As if in slow motion, you push up and press your lips to his. You are not thinking at all, just going with your instinct. His lips are warm and plush, and you want more. So much more.

You feel the moment his whole body freezes; he is stunned in the truest sense of the word.

You pull back quickly, sinking into the pillow under him.

“Oh god. I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper, mortified, “please forgive me, I….”

Your words die out as he makes a noise you’ve never heard before. It seems to come from deep inside him, making every hair on your body stand on end.

Then he is on you. Closing the gap between you and capturing your lips with a passion that steals your breath and thoughts. He is kissing so hard, so quickly, you feel lightheaded, pressing you into the mattress under his body. His lips open over yours, his tongue teasing against your lips. He tastes of toothpaste, traces of whiskey and something that is all him, and you flood your underwear; there's also a noise from your throat that doesn’t sound human. He kisses like a storm, hot and electric, and you want to drown in him.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, and so yours follow suit. It’s a desperate clambering of wanting more. Before you can completely acknowledge it, his hands are questing under your jumper, squeezing your waist, sliding up and over your bra, and tweaking a nipple as his tongue parries with yours.

“Please, please take this off,” he implores passionately into your mouth, tugging at your top. His voice, this close and breathless, is lethal. He is everywhere, surrounding and covering you, and your focus narrows to just him as he sits up to peel off his jumper and t-shirt together, exposing his torso. You freeze. Your arms crossed, halfway through taking off yours.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale before you can stop yourself.

You figured Benedict would be in shape from the feel of his body when you hug, but you haven't seen him shirtless in a long time, and just how much in shape he is, is a revelation. He smiles demurely at your outburst, which makes you want him even more if that were possible.

“Take yours off,” he sounds impatient, and you realise you are still frozen in the same position. You quickly whip yours over your head; his responding noise is your new favourite sound. You feel so grateful you only brought nice underwear on this trip; your lacy bra appears to work for him.

“The knickers match,” you murmur, revelling in the flash in his eye.

You grab his hand and move it to the drawstring on your pyjamas. His long slender fingers pluck the bow tied there; his gaze is on your face the whole time, his kiss-damp lips glowing softly in the low light. You breathe deeply and can’t look away from his captivating face. When the string relents, he winks. Rather than pull them down, his hand quests inside and between your legs.

You gasp and buck up off the pillow as warm, strong fingers press on your clit through the lacy fabric. You know he can feel your heat, just how wet the material is.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he rumbles low and sinful as his fingers tease a circle over your clit. “Although this seems unreal - I half assume I’m going to wake up in a minute with my hand wrapped around my cock, alone.”

Hearing him say the word cock makes you moan. He licks his lips, and his fingers curl firmer on you.

“Tell me this is real; I’m not dreaming again,” he pleads fervently, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing your air. He is achingly beautiful this close up, his eyes just a thin ring blazing around dark inky pupils staring into your depths. This man has always been able to make you feel seen, but this close, this intense, it feels like he’s peering into your soul.

“You’re not dreaming, Ben,” you reply shakily, trying not to lose all composure at what the word ‘again’ might imply as he gradually tortures you with unhurried, steady movements.

He is watching your face, so closely observing, cataloguing your micro-expressions. His fingers move, spidering along the lace trim before pushing under the fabric this time, sliding down through your trimmed pubic hair and into your naked, soaked folds.

“Ben!” You call out, grasping that strong forearm again, biting your lip and staring into his fiery gaze.

“What do you need?” he questions. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked you that in bed.

“You,” you reply honestly.

“You have me, 110% you have me,” he asserts in a tone that melts something in your chest. “As if you don't know it, you’ve had me for many years,” he admits as his hand slides lower. You cry out as he pushes two fingers just a fraction inside you.

“Fuck, you are on fire,” he exclaims, a shaky exhale across your lips.

“Only for you,” you answer, knowing you’ve never been this turned on before in your life.

He growls, actually growls. And then his lips are back on yours in the most potent kiss yet. You pulse around him and groan into his mouth as he sinks his fingers deeper. When the kiss ends, you glance down your body, seeing the stiff peaks of your nipples poking insistently through the lace and his sinewy forearm buried into your pyjama bottoms.

“Do you like what you see?” his voice a velvety tease.

“I’d like it even more if we were naked,” you respond honestly.

He chuckles at that, and his lips descend, dropping light kisses down your neck as his fingers tease you, surging in and out of your body so achingly slow. His thumb rests on your clit, a little nudge of pressure every time his fingers rock into your channel.

“I need to make you come like I need air,” he confesses, his voice resonant, his warm breath skittering over the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“Please do…” it’s a quiet plea.

You feel the curve of his cheek as he smiles, and the fingers inside you flex.

“I suppose if you’d like to be more naked, then I’d better strip you down first,” he remarks, gently withdrawing his fingers.

Warm hands hook into your underwear, and he scooches away, pulling them down your legs, taking your PJs with them. Suddenly, the image that flashed in your mind earlier becomes a reality, his stubbly chin grazing your belly as he crawls back over you.

“You look amazing,” he sighs over your belly button and leans his forehead on your stomach as he takes a deep breath. “You smell it too.”

He runs his nose and lips over your skin as he surges up and nuzzles your bra, pleading with his eyes for you to remove it as he pulls the straps down over your arms, kissing along the lacy cup edge.

When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you grab his hair and push up against him, the swoop of sensation in your belly like riding a rollercoaster, the thrill tingling along the back of your scalp.

He moves to lay beside you, and you watch the duvet move as he strips off his bottoms under it. Suddenly there is a thick wave of body heat as he rolls next to you; you feel something sizeable and solid brand your hip.

“Oh, Ben,” slips out on instinct, but he stops your questing hand.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head and smirks at your corresponding pout. “When you have come, preferably screaming, then you can touch my cock. Okay?”

You physically feel the shiver down your spine at that line. Who even says things like that?

He smiles against your temple as he slips his fingers back into you, and you moan at the sensation. He curls his body around you, legs twining around your right one to hold you open. That cock is still rigid on your hip; it feels sizeable and delicious.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing a circle over your clit his fingers stroking in a come hither motion.

“This… exactly what you are doing,” you reply breathlessly, “just please don't stop and maybe go a little harder?” you request timidly.

He smirks and pushes his fingers deeper; his motions get stronger and faster. You close your eyes and nod, licking your lips.

“Yes, that oh god Ben, thattttt,” you stumble as his magical fingers spiral you higher.

When they jab a spot inside, a bloom of pleasure hits you, and your eyes fly open, going wide.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” he preens, redoubling his efforts as you start to pant loudly, clinging to his arm and whining his name—the hot and intense pleasure building remarkably fast.

“That’s it come on,” he encourages, whispering into your hairline right above your ear; his tone is both soothing and achingly filthy.

“Ben… I,” your words morph into needy noises, drunk on the sensations rippling through your body, fanning out from his fingers buried inside you.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, “you’re close now; I can feel it. Look at me,” he orders.

And you do. Mouth hanging open, squirming on his fingers, feeling something primal washing over you. His eyes burn into yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he warns.

It's almost like permission; you feel something inside you give way. You scream loudly as a tide of orgasm washes over you. Blood rushes in your ears, and you feel his leg bear down over the apex of your thigh, holding your pelvis onto the bed as you cry and convulse. Your body fights his fingers, trying to push them out as your whole channel clenches in strong waves.

After a few moments of deep breaths, you open your eyes, and he kisses your cheek, then your lips.

“Wow… that was…. absolutely amazing,” he confides, kissing more. “And it's a damn good thing no one can hear us here. You scream like a horror movie queen, and I mean that with all the very best compliments.”

You laugh a little abashed and bury your face into his armpit, loving the smell of his deodorant and just him.

“Your turn,” you mumble, deciding to be bold and snake a hand down your side to grab his cock at your hip.

It’s large and thick enough your fingers don’t quite meet when you wrap around it. It makes your insides melt at the thought of how it would feel sliding into you. He makes the neediest huffing noises as you twist onto your side to face him and begin an unhurried rhythm, watching that pretty cock twitch in your hand.

You tease him with a gentle twisting motion, squeezing a little as you reach his head, swiping a thumb over the bead of precum that appears, gently massaging his frenulum as he lets out a faint moan. His hand covers yours, stilling your movements.

“This is so wonderful, but I need you to stop if you want sex. Do you want to… have sex?” he asks so demurely your heart clenches.

“Yes, Ben, please,” you whisper.

“I didn't bring any condoms with me,” he says quietly, “I didn't think I’d meet another soul up here, let alone well…” he trails off, pitching forward, so his lips are warm on your cheek.

“I didn't either, but I'm on the Pill,” you shrug. You've never had first-time sex without a condom, but this man isn't a stranger; he's a lifelong friend, and you trust him with your life.

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your nose.

“Wait, how do you know that?” your brow knitting lightly.

“I know everything about you,” he asserts against your skin, staring into your eyes. “How you take your tea - English breakfast before 2pm, Earl Grey after, both with milk and one sugar. I know how the tip of your tongue here,” he softly trails his nose over the corner of your mouth, “sticks out of your mouth when you type on your laptop. I know you always loop your glasses into the neckline of your top,” a finger tracing gently over the swell of your breast, “and somehow always forget they are there and have a ten-second panic every time.” He laughs gently. “I even know how you prefer plain Hobnobs over chocolate; I have no idea why, and you are so wrong on that, by the way,” he shoots you a devastating lopsided grin. “And I know you are on the Pill because I've watched you take them religiously for years; when I stay at yours, and you make coffee in the morning, it’s the first thing you take before your multivitamin.”

His casual recounting of so many little, human things that make you, you, astounds you. This man knows you better than you know yourself, and you get a weird swooping sensation in your chest. Of elation that you've finally figured it out, he might just be the one - your human, but also a crushing regret you haven't done so sooner. You could have been doing this, intimately entwined with this wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive, handsome man, for so many years.

Not wanting to waste any more opportunity and so very desperate to have him inside you, you use all your strength to roll him onto his back and climb on top. Surprised and aroused, he looks up at you devotedly, his pupils blown wide.

Silently and without breaking eye contact, you reach between your bodies, line up his weeping beautiful cock, and sink onto him without another thought. The needy noise he makes is like poetry.

He feels perfect, and you close your eyes to revel in being stretched around him, a solid hot presence filling you up and holding you so open. Just the perfect length and girth for you, almost like his cock was made for you.

Warm hands grasp your hips, and your eyes fly open and look down at him, his expression pleading with you to move. Gradually you rise up, then drop down just once, savouring the sensations as he drags against your walls.

“You feel perfect,” he groans “please….”

You know what he is asking, begging for - more. Something in you wants to draw this out, go so achingly slow both of you get mindless. Luxuriate in this carnal, sensual meeting.

“Talk to me,” you implore, starting a leisurely pace.

“What about?” you watch him glance down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into you as you sink down.

“Talk to me, Ben,” you repeat but pointedly, grabbing his chin to look at you and raising an eyebrow.

There's a lightbulb of understanding behind his eyes, and that killer crooked smile spreads across his face.

“You like my voice, don't you?” he says, pitched low, and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands as leverage for your movements.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, gasping as the pleasure grows between your legs just as he says those few words.

“I know,” he smirks, “I’ve known for years.”

You look at him in surprise. “Wait, how?” you breathe, disbelieving.

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you down on top of him: so much heat and warm flesh.

“I have noticed your pupils dilate every time I drop my voice just like this,” he murmurs low and sinful into your ear. “The temptation to say so many dirty things has been so strong. God, I love it when you are aroused, and you think you can hide it. I knew you were getting wet; it would take all my willpower not to grab and kiss you senselessly. Especially those days when you are only in a little floaty skirt, I could actually smell it. Delicious and sweet and so fucking sexy. That little squirm you would do. How you move your body is fucking sinful. And now I get to enjoy it. You riding me like this. Fuck, if this isn't every fantasy I've ever had coming true.”

By the time his filthy soliloquy is done, you are panting hard, not from the exertion as you rock on him but the way he has pushed you so close to orgasm with so little effort - just his voice and words.

“Ben,” you shudder, “I….” words fail as you feel your body flush.

“I can feel you are fluttering. Are you going to come so soon?” he exhales, impressed. “Oh god, please, please do it,” he urges. “I need to feel it.”

You sit up and reach down to touch your clit, and he swears at the sight. You are tipping over the edge, stilling your movement as you sit with him at your hilt and clench around him. He feels impossibly huge inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” he groans long and loud, clenching his teeth. You know he is also fighting the urge to come, wanting this to last much longer.

Greedy for more, for another stronger climax, you go to move again, but he stops you.

“Please don't move, not yet,” he pleads, grabbing your hips and quelling your movement. “I need… a few moments, please.”

You smile down at him indulgently and link your hands again, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth and kissing it delicately. Then to be a tease, you envelop his middle finger in your mouth, running your tongue over it, tasting his tangy skin. He growls as you add his pointer finger and suck hard, staring down at him heatedly.

“This isn't really helping,” he warns reluctantly with a playful pout.

You let his fingers slip out of your mouth and guide his hand to your breasts, pressing his now-damp fingers against your nipple. He enthusiastically grips your flesh, and you throw your head back and moan as he teases your sensitive buds, pinching them between his fingertips. You gyrate your hips, dragging his tip against your cervix.

There is another growl, and suddenly you are tipped over onto the mattress, him still buried inside you. He grabs your legs and loops his arms under them, pulling your body so open under him.

“Hold onto me… twine your arms around me,” he instructs.

You do, fingers digging into his smooth, muscular torso. Panting in anticipation; at the feel of him holding you down, his pelvis crushed against your engorged clit.

He begins to move, and you can't help but make noises; he just overwhelms all your senses. His kisses, his skin, his arms, your legs held high and wide. He is almost delicate in his motion, but you can tell he is holding back.

“Don't be too gentle, Ben,” you beg, bringing one hand up to cup his jaw and running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Please just fuck me.”

His mouth captures your thumb, and you gasp as he spears into you hard. You hiss your approval as he crowds over you to kiss you fiercely. Then everything is a haze as your mind switches off, and you are rooted in your body, chasing sensation as he takes you hard. He feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as you lay under him, pinned and almost helpless to this onslaught but wanting nothing more than being right where you are. For a first time together, it’s not awkward or timid; it's exciting and mindblowing but somehow still safe, knowing you can trust him with everything, including your body.

Between kisses, there are whispered encouragements against lips and hands grasping so tight to each other as movements become more frantic and fast. He is hitting your clit on each stroke and panting, so present in the moment, eyes boring into yours. You know he is so close, hanging by a thread when he screws his eyes shut and pleads with you to come with him. A few more strokes and it is happening, your orgasm hitting you hard and breaking over your body in waves, fanning out from your core as you clench around him, making your muscles spasm and your toes curl. You feel him coming hard, too, a warm bloom inside you as he jerks a few heavy thrusts, then stills, mouth open over yours and huffing gulps of air as he twitches.

After a few moments of deep breaths and slumped limbs, he pulls his face up to kiss you tenderly.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you giggle and nod your head. “Why haven't we been doing that for the last god knows how many years?” he shakes his head, his voice a little ragged and rough-edged.

“I don't know, but we should be doing a lot more of it,” you respond brightly, “make up for lost time?”

He laughs warmly and agrees, taking his weight off you and rolling and rearranging your bodies so you are both on your sides, facing each other, hands laced together, noses touching. And that is how you fall asleep.

—

You awaken to dazzling sunlight streaming in, reflecting off all the snow. You wince against the brightness and clamp your eyes shut, burrowing back into Benedict. You feel surrounded, in the best sense of the word. He is a warm solid presence behind your back, an arm slung around the dip of your waist, a hand curled around your breast, legs entangled, downy hair tickling your calves. And best of all, a hard cock nestles the back of your thighs. You flex your hips and shuffle until his tip is poised right at your entrance. He stirs, and there is a hot exhale on the back of your neck.

“Get inside me, please,” you petition quietly, voice scratchy from sleep.

Wordlessly, he rolls his hips, surging into your body in one swift stroke. You moan so loudly that he huffs a laugh, then stills, buried inside you.

“Now go back to sleep,” he grumbles affectionately, arm pulling you into him tighter, your whole body flush to his, curling his legs up so you are almost in the fetal position.

“Like this?!” your tone incredulous, as his fingernails trace an idle ellipsis around your areola.

“Mmm hmmm,” his hum vibrates into your spine.

“Bennnn…” you protest, clenching around him, so he groans deeply.

“I promise to fuck you so hard you forget your name… later, if you let me sleep just a little more,” he proposes, nuzzling your hair.

What a lovely thought. You lay still in his arms for a few minutes, but his cock holding you open is far too distracting.

“Bennn…” you try again.

“Shhhhh…” he reacts, but you can tell he's not sleepy anymore; there is a smile on the nape of your neck.

“You feel too good; I can’t sleep,” you whine, slightly petulant.

“You’re not even trying,” he chuckles richly.

“You can't do this to me,” you wheedle, your breath hitching triumphantly as he tilts his pelvis and slips a fraction deeper.

“If I fuck you right now, will you stop complaining?” his tone laced with amusement.

“Hmmm, maybe,” you shoot back, twisting to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes dancing with mirth.

Your lips meet, and it's a breathy passionate kiss, all open mouths and tongues, teasing each other and fighting for dominance.

As your mouths dance, he starts to move at a languid pace, just rocking into your body gently, and it’s the best wake-up you have ever had. You cover his hand on your breast, and he intuits what you are asking, squeezing the swell, your nipple snagged between his middle and pointer finger. You break the kiss, and his teeth gently skim the cord on your neck as he speeds up a little.

“Will you wake me up like this every day, please?” you sigh, not thinking about the implications of your words, just drunk on the sensation.

“Happily,” he rumbles and spears a little stronger, making you call out his name.

“The sound I really want to wake up to though….” his voice teasing and low. “is this one…” and his hand slips from your breast to between your legs.

You moan and writhe in his strong hold, little sparks of pleasure firing where he touches.

“That’s it, that’s the sound,” he encourages as you both move together in sync.

It’s a wonderfully sensual experience, growing in intensity until he rolls you over onto your front, still inside you, fucking into you from behind, covering your entire body with his. His hand is trapped between your body and the mattress while teasing your clit.

“Oh god, Ben,” you cry as he seems to slide deeper than ever, your thigh trapped shut together, his legs bracketing yours, using all his effort to drive into you, the tone shifting from languid to vigorous. You’ve never been taken in this position before, and at this angle, he is hitting all the right spots inside you to make your eyes roll back and bite the pillow.

It hurtles you fast, beginning to pant raggedly, and you urge him on, asking for more and harder, and he obliges, thrusting so strong your whole body rolls and the bed squeaks loudly in protest. Your voice becomes one long moaning sound; you are pushing back onto his cock as much as possible, a chorus of please don't stop as he drives you fast towards a climax. His body is bowed, breathing hot puffs of air across your upper back, with an occasional kiss, his lips soft and wet.

He holds you on a precipice for a moment; you crane to look back at his face pleadingly; his expression is wild and so gorgeous it catches your breath.

“You are magnificent,” he rasps against your skin.

Then the hand not on your clit suddenly spanks your butt cheek while his teeth sink into the top of your trapezius muscle, pushing you over the edge, calling his name as you pulsate hard around him. Him grunting and thrusting deeper, fighting your clenching muscles. Then he stills, and every muscle tenses as he empties into your body, almost shaking from the intensity.

He collapses onto your back, breathing in wracked sounds.

“Fucking hell,” you both say almost in unison, then giggle at your matching assessment of the experience.

He pulls out of you reluctantly and flops down onto the mattress to your left, wrapping an arm around you and manoeuvring so are the little spoon once again.

“That was intense,” he voices, and you make a noise of agreement, lacing your fingers with his and holding your joined hands up, watching his fingers sink between yours and curve over, his fingertips resting on your palm.

“We are awesome at sex,” you opine. Benedict chuckles at that, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “And you know what that means?”

“What?” his tone lilting.

“We just have to keep doing it all the time,” you observe with a mock, burdened sigh.

“What a terrible hardship for us,” he concurs with an ironic laugh, nuzzling your neck with a grin on his face. __

Half an hour later, you have showered together - which proved almost as distracting as morning sex until the hot water tank ran out, and you jumped out squealing as the water turned ice cold - and are now leisurely making brunch. You both only wear towelling robes you stole from your Glasgow hotel room, the fireplace roaring again. You agree to go for a walk in the snow later, neither of you mentioning booking your flight home.

“Wait, why is this sofa so bloody uncomfortable” you bemoan, taking a sip of coffee and flicking idly through a book you took from a shelf. “I don't remember it being this bad last night,” you ponder aloud.

“Well, you had had a couple of whiskeys by then,” Benedict points out as he cooks an amazing-smelling breakfast a few feet away in the kitchenette.

“True, but honestly, what is going on with it?” you grumble, putting the book aside, not yet sufficiently caffeinated.

“Sofa beds tend not to be comfortable. As either a sofa or a bed,” he rattles out, flipping a slice of bacon in the pan.

You grind to a halt in your efforts to get comfy.

“Sofa bed…?” You echo out loud.

He suddenly freezes and realises what he has admitted.

“Benedict bloody Bridgerton!!” you exclaim loudly, standing up, “did you trick me into sharing your bed?!?”

He turns around slowly, knowing he is foiled and pulls a sheepish face.

“Yeahhhh, a lil bit…” he admits as you gape at him, attempting his most winning remorseful smile. “But, in my defence…” he adds, waving the spatula, “you are the one who kissed me first. I just stacked the deck; you drew the first card.”

He expertly swerves the cushion you throw at him before flicking off the stove and pushing aside the pan.

“Right…” he charges at you as you squeal.

He corners you with ease in the compact space and throws you over his shoulder.

“We are using this stupid sofa bed right now,” he instructs and, rather attractively, casually flicks a handle on the side with his foot to open it. He practically throws you onto the (admitted thin, rather uncomfortable) bed and tugs open your robe, snaking his way down your body and throwing your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a molten hot gaze from between your thighs.

You have no arguments with this development. None whatsoever.

—

You return to that tiny cottage every year for that same week as a ritual—a little private anniversary. Sometimes you stay through New Year, just the two of you ringing in the entire festive season.

He buys it for you as a wedding gift, and you cry at the sentimentality of the man buying you the place you first got together. (One thing you do early on - buy a new, comfortable sofa.)

It becomes a haven for your lives together, even when you have to bring cots and camp beds for your children, all sleeping communally in that one room. (You don’t tell them, but all of your children are named after characters in an obscure old book he finds hidden in the rafters when you are renovating while pregnant with your firstborn.)

Nothing brings you more joy than when you can escape to that little cottage in the Highlands. You never tell anyone besides your children where it is—it’s your escape, your sanctuary. The “somewhere only we know,” as Benedict always called it.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

[dearophelia]

best of sara's fic, according to her

Because I’m feeling some kind of way about my cancer lately and wanted to put together a Sara’s Greatest Fic Hits while I’m still around to do it (which is a morbid thing to type, but see the intro: been feeling some kind of way lately).

These range from my most popular fics, to the ones lost to weird posting hours, and everything in between. If I counted correctly, there are 14 fandoms on this list: from Mass Effect and Dragon Age, to Grey’s Anatomy and Stargate SG-1, to The West Wing and Calvin & Hobbes.

I’d appreciate reblogs on this (I am not ashamed to pull the stage iv cancer card here) so it can reach as many people as possible.

I have been writing fic for over 15 years; this is not a short list.

All are rated T or lower unless otherwise indicated. All stories are at or under the 3k mark unless otherwise indicated.

Stargate SG-1:

waves are universal (the heaven in hiding remix) (Sam/Jack; I’m very Normal about this fic; time travel and alternate realities, a host of OCs (and some familiar faces from Norafic if you look closely), oh and the Sam/Jack kid from the alternate reality! Only she’s an adult and working on a way to save the world! This has it all, folks: humor, romance, angst, action! I told you I’m Normal about it; 40k)

strange is the night where black stars rise (Sam; horror! A low creeping sense of doom! The King in Yellow! No, seriously, fuck that planet; 10k)

#sg1wedding (Sam/Jack; their wedding turned into An Event against their will; bets are going down about who would win in a fight: Bra’tac or the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs; also Jack loses his socks; twitterfic from 2012 and technology has definitely Marched On, just read it like an unhinged group chat fic)

phoenix (Sam/Daniel/Teal’c, Sam/Jack, Sam/Jack/Daniel/Teal’c; apocalypse (that I consulted a real live geologist on!); rebuilding in the wake of said apocalypse; team family feelings, kids, and some really shitty neighbors; 38k)

Dragon Age:

joy cometh in the morning (Ariadne; rated M; a host of OCs; mind the warnings; friendship; worldbuilding galore; friendships and mentors and first loves; did I mention friendship and worldbuilding?; 56k)

through the rude wind’s wild lament, and the bitter weather (Ari+Cullen; quiet magic, kind magic, good magic is still new to Cullen)

as the sun kissed the horizon (Ari/Josephine; a relationship in ten moments)

‘til we meet again (Ari+Cullen; platonic sleeping together!)

so hold my hand, consign me not to darkness (Ari; her faith is the core of who she is and, for the first time, Andraste isn’t there; post-Trespasser)

raise your fists up to the sky (Kylie/Krem; it’s Krem’s first day with the Chargers and there’s a naked elf in the middle of camp)

every demon wants his pound of flesh (Krem+Bull; Krem was in the Fade with the Inquisitor and the fear demon had some Things To Say To Him)

black dove (Anaya) & strange little girl (Anaya+Dagna) & dissolving clouds (Anaya+Cullen) (because neurodivergent Inquisitor, friendship, blossoming romance, and three very different takes on blood magic)

skeletons (Zahara+Bull; she is saarebas, he is Ben-Hassrath, and language is important)

children shouldn’t play with dead things (Juliette Amell; she’s always had an easier time with the dead than the living; cw for bugs)

a sorta fairytale (Josephine/Cassandra; flower shop & tattoo parlor AU; 8k)

Mass Effect Trilogy:

gonna set your flag on fire (Nora Vakarian, Liv/Garrus, James/Liara, Liv+Liara, Livfam; action! Humor! Angst! Worldbuilding! OCs!; I am Super Normal about this fic too; I promise everything’s okay in the end, promise, even though it isn’t written yet; Nora is an N3 and has an inactive control chip in her head. She and her team are ordered to investigate a Cerberus facility. It goes, shall we say, awry; 40k)

anthem (Liv/Garrus, Hannah/Zaeed, Liv+Liara; eight months is a long time without each other; angst with a happy ending (I promise); post-Destroy; 13k)

holy ground & dress (Liv/Garrus; ficlets from the night he gets sworn in as Councilor)

brightly shone the moon at night (Liv, Liv+Liara, Liv/Garrus, Livfam; five Christmases in Olivia Shepard’s life; 5k)

the pieces of gold, they light up your eyes & now we’re alone, now we’re alive (Liv/Garrus; the evolution of a relationship)

fighting is said to have reached palaven (Liv/Garrus; please, please let him be alive)

and some things you just can’t speak about (Quentus+Nico; the war)

‘cause i know that it’s delicate (Liv/Garrus; pre-wedding!)

nosce te ipsum (Nico; he likes boys and fanfiction and he didn’t think he’d get his little italicized oh moment)

i will write you love letters if you tell me to (Liv/Garrus; Hannah gives him one of Liv’s notebooks before he goes off to Omega; Garrus does the only thing he can think of with it)

i really need you (Liv/Garrus; James POV during the reunion scene in Priority: Palaven)

you look really tired (Liv/Garrus, Liv+Liara; post-Thessia, Olivia’s not doing well)

hey, so, ground rules (Liv+Zaeed; it’s a lot weird now that he’s dating her mom)

and all the scars you bear are from a previous war (Liv+Quentus; Mom!Liv)

you can hear it in the silence (Liv/Garrus; just a moment, post-war)

this all started because of a bad day (Liv/Garrus; from first meetings to matching rings)

combat, i’m ready for combat & turn on your favorite nightlight (Hannah; she’s a civilian and her daughter isn’t, and she’s bound and determined to know what Liv goes through when her boots hit the ground; Hannah, Zaeed, Liv, and Garrus hit up Armax)

four quarians who never made it back to the fleet (and one who did) (kinda what it says on the tin, honestly. Oh, Tali’s in this!)

everyone’s lost, the battle is won (Evangeline; somewhat predictably, my experiment in getting as many of my team killed as possible resulted in Feelings About It)

across the sky (Susan/Liara; how to make the Control ending feel good)

and yours is in red underlined (Vanessa; The Illusive Man has pissed her off for the last time)

i’m headed straight for the castle (Vanessa; renegade control ending; kneel before your queen)

Mass Effect Andromeda:

for saviours (Tori; ten scenes from a pre-Andromeda life; 10k)

ringing joyful and triumphant (Tori/Liam/Jaal; just some morning fluff)

the thing with the baby angara (Tori/Liam/Jaal; thinking about the future)

the undone and the divine (Tori/Liam/Jaal; the lone single solitary explicit fic on here, give it props for that alone; Liam gets absolutely railed by his partners. That’s it. That’s the fic.)

you’re like the thing that makes the universe explode (Sara Ryder/Suvi, Drack; kid, the only people who don’t know that you like Suvi are people who haven’t met you and Suvi)

this one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall (Tori+Garrus; one night in the intersection of Victoria Ryder and Archangel; maybe they’re better friends than they both thought)

The West Wing:

a great revelation sigh (CJ; she’s Chief of Staff; ten steps to the apocalypse; the apocalypse source probably didn’t age well, heads up)

it’s in my blood and i won’t give up ‘cause it’s running through my veins (Amy+Andi; it’s Election Day in the future and Amy has nothing to do)

Grey’s Anatomy:

dropsonde (the singers in a lower choir remix) (Addison/Alex, Derek/Meredith, Addison+Derek, Addison+Mark, Mark+Derek; the one that kicked off all the remixes; absolutely off the rails from canon somewhere in S3; budding romances and kidfic and my theory about people being storms and lighthouses; 40k)

scarlet city (Mark/Addison, Burke/Cristina; film noir gangster and detective AU; Addison’s the gangster, Burke’s the detective; literally everyone I could fit into this fic shows up; also Denny is comic relief; 18k)

Misc:

access records (Star Trek Voyager; Naomi Wildman’s holodeck access for the past week; worldbuilding!)

in this twilight our choices seal our fate (the song in the house of night remix) (SVU; Olivia/Elliot; rated M; on the rise and fall of partnership; probably a little too much religious imagery but what the hell else am I gonna do with a minor in religious studies?; 4k)

the end of days job (Leverage; Parker+Eliot+Hardison; the apocalypse job, basically; this one ages well!)

let the only sound be the overflow (D&D; Calia/Kelpie/Edal, aka ot3: fathoms below; the ocean is big and they are not)

we are golden stars above silver seas (we hear echoes from another galaxy) (Calvin & Hobbes; Calvin+Susie; throughout all those years, she never gave up on him; this one went viral on tumblr [LINK] and I cleaned it up for the AO3 version)

lift her, pull her, from the orchids (Grace and Frankie; Grace/Frankie; the one where I invoke the spelling bee)

rocket queens (Babylon 5/Pacific Rim; Susan Ivanova/Talia Winters; look, they’re jaeger pilots, I really don’t know what else to tell you)

the great gig in the sky (Battlestar Galactica; Six; rebirth is painful, she forgets this sometimes)

[lgbtqmanga]

New Releases June 11, 2024

Birds of Shangri-La (manga) vol. 3 by Ranmaru Zariya

A paradise of sensuality, Shangri-La is a male brothel celebrating the glories of gay sex—not somewhere you’d expect Apollo, a straight man, to seek employment. But Apollo has now finished his training as a teaser under the brothel’s most sought-after bird, Phi, and he’s quickly realizing he’s not keen to work with anyone else. When Phi himself starts to show possessiveness over Apollo, the two further risk permanent exile from paradise!

Case File Compendium: Bing An Ben (novel) vol. 2 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat)

From the outside, He Yu seems to have everything going for him: he’s handsome, rich, and smart. But beneath his perfect facade, he’s hiding a dark secret–one that makes him a slumbering threat to the people around him. After spending years abroad, he enrolls in film school to pursue the girl of his dreams, Xie Xue…but that forces him to deal with her overprotective older brother, the man He Yu hoped he’d never see again.

Xie Qingcheng, an icy man of subdued emotion, was once He Yu’s doctor, and is the only person who knows He Yu’s terrible secret. He Yu swears not to let his past with this man get in the way of his feelings for Xie Xue, but he soon finds himself drawn into a tangled web of intrigue and violence that involves both of the Xie siblings. As a sprawling conspiracy sucks in He Yu, he must confront his own grudges and face new truths–including his own feelings for Xie Qingcheng, which warp into a fixation much darker than what he feels for the man’s sister.

Even Though We're Adults (manga) vol. 8 by Takako Shimura

Is it worth making everyone else miserable just so we can be happy? Even as they wrestle with this question, Ayano and Akari decide to move in together. Their new life together sustains Ayano after salacious rumors chased her out of her last teaching job. Meanwhile, Wataru is left hurting in the wake of the divorce and Eri struggles with an adulterous love of her own.

Finder Deluxe Edition: Mirage (manga) vol. 13 by Ayano Yamane

Akihito is back with Asami but has lost his memories of him. And to make a bad situation worse, Akihito is going through withdrawal from no longer taking the drug responsible for his memory loss. But despite not remembering his lover, the warmth of Asami’s kindness has Akihito feeling confused about his growing attraction. Will that be enough for Asami to get his old Akihito back?

I Think I Turned My Childhood Friend Into a Girl (manga) vol. 6 by Azusa Banjo

Hiura and Mido’s time as roommates ends with the start of the new school term. But now that Hiura’s gained a little more confidence, he’s forging deeper friendships with his fellow classmates, and at the invitation of rich girl Yoshino, he somehow ends up making his society debut! Meanwhile, a new character who is knowledgeable about makeup gets a glimpse of Mido’s secret. Will this set something off?!

Marriage to Kitsune-sama (manga) by Ken Homerun

In the town of Hokutochou, a mystical tradition unfolds every few decades. A villager is selected to ascend the mountain to marry one of the alluring fox spirits who reside there. Inaho has longed to take on that role, and when his time finally comes, he eagerly climbs the mountain to meet his new handsome husband, Subaru.

The captivating lord has been watching Inaho for quite some time and is pleased to receive his new spouse. But before this supernatural marriage can enter its honeymoon stage, Inaho discovers Subaru is cursed to devour his beloved--aka Inaho! Can they find a way to break the curse, or is this marriage doomed to end in tragedy?

The Moon On a Rainy Night (manga) vol. 5 by Kuzushiro

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

Summer break has finally begun, and Kanon and Saki throw themselves into preparing for the upcoming choir contest. When Tanabe suggests setting up a maid café for their school festival project, the three friends decide to head downtown to look at maid outfits. What with conductor practice, shopping excursions, and spending almost every minute with Saki, Kanon is actually starting to enjoy summer in a way she never did before. The only thing that could burst this happy bubble is an unexpected encounter with her classmate Tomita, who usually treats her with scorn. Could there be more to Tomita’s story than she’s letting on?

The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame: Master of Gay Erotic Manga: Vols. 1 & 2

A slipcased edition of the best-selling two volume series collecting the work of Gengoroh Tagame, the "Tom of Finland of Japan" and modern master of "bara" manga.

The often violent, visceral, and always provocative style of Japanese manga legend Gengoroh Tagame, one of the originators of Japanese bear culture, comes to life like never before in our two volume The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame series — the only English-language collections of Tagame’s erotic work, celebrated around the world for its groundbreaking subject matter, masterfully crafted imagery, and unbridled exploration of bondage, lust, passion, and romance.

Vol. 1 includes ten short stories dating from the late 1990s to the early 2010s, with an introduction by celebrated novelist and biographer Edmund White, as well as an essay and jacket design by acclaimed novelist and graphic designer Chip Kidd. In Vol. 2, Tagame serves up what his fans love best: elaborate, sensational, beautifully rendered erotica and BDSM. Kings, monks, cops, athletes: no manly man is safe from the deliciously depraved fantasies within this treasure trove of long and short stories previously unpublished in English, accompanied by original essays and an exclusive new interview with the internationally renowned cartoonist.

Our new two volume slipcased edition is a must-have for Tagame fans, as well as fans of bear cultures in general. (Please note: This book is a traditional work of manga, and reads back to front and right to left.)

Pulse (graphic novel) vol. 7 by Ratana Satis

FINAL VOLUME!

Sue’s past is finally coming back to bite her! Both she and her husband have been summoned to give statements and it won’t be long before they have to go to court. Is the director standing at the precipice of her fall from grace? All will finally be answered in the heart-pounding conclusion of PULSE!

Punch Drunk Love (manhwa) vol. 2 by MOSCARETO and art by Okdong

After getting not just one, but two passionate encounters with manager Jeong Tae-moon, finance worker Park Seon-woo is on cloud nine. The problem? Mr. Jeong is completely turned off by everything from Seon-woo’s frumpy appearance to his sloppy oral technique. Desperate to keep living his ultimate fantasy come true, Seon-woo works hard to improve himself and become a man worthy to stand at Mr. Jeong’s side…or just to crouch on hands and knees as Mr. Jeong’s footstool! Could he even dare hope to become Mr. Jeong’s exclusive lover? Maybe if he ditches those Coke-bottle glasses…

Shonen Note: Boy Soprano (manga) vol. 7 by Yuhki Kamatani

After an unexpected mishap at the national choir competition, Midori loses sight of who she is and decides to resign from the choir. Meanwhile, Yutaka's time as a boy soprano is reaching its end as his voice begins to change. He hopes Midori will get to hear him perform one more time, but…

Untamed: the Official Artwork

This stunning hardcover collection is a full-color guide to the rich world of historical fantasy The Untamed. This live-action drama series–an adaptation of Mo Xiang Tong Xiu’s New York Times bestselling novel series Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Mo Dao Zu Shi–became one of the most popular dramas in China with over 9 billion views and fans located all over the world, including those introduced to the series in English on Netflix. This full-color hardcover (300+ pages long) is an art-and-text guide featuring beautiful shots from the show, character features, cast interviews, explorations of fashion and settings, illustrations and concept art, song lyrics, and more!

[princess-glassred]

I know I already have an au where Eddie and Henry swap bodies BUT that's only when they're adults, and I was wondering how it'd go with their parents, and the bowers gang, and school stuff. So here's how I think a Henry/Eddie body swap might go down when they're kids.

Let's start with Eddie!

-Eddie wakes up with an immediate tooth ache because Henry doesn't brush his teeth at all and they're a rotten. It's fuckin agonizing but he's able to deal with the pain.

-He goes into the kitchen to eat breakfast, but the sight of an empty table makes Eddie realize just how vastly different the parent-child dynamic is in the Bowers household. Eddie's mother smothers and spoils him so much she'd never forget a meal, but in the Bowers household, not only does Butch not make anything for him, but HE expects HENRY to cook. And so begins Eddie's exhausting and somewhat demaning list of chores Henry has to do everyday.

-He's not used to having to do so much, often times even if Eddie wants to help his mom will swat him away and insist he go play instead. He has to mow the lawn, weed the front yard, fetch eggs, tend to the crops, ect. Ect. It's kind of rewarding, but it's taxing as fuck. He also shows concern for Henry's skin since he apparently works in the sun all day without any sunscreen.

-This goes with out saying, but the unbearable stink of sweat and gum that's always on Henry makes Eddie wanna hurl. He gets pretty squicked out by sweat in general though, which is unfortunate because of the whole "working outside all morning thing".

-He also hates having to take care of Bip and Bop, since pigs are just about one of the grossest animals Eddie can think of. The fact Butch forces him to walk around in the mud and manure to tend to them just makes it so so much worse.

-Thankfully, Eddie doesn't have to deal with Butches anger for the most part, since he doesn't talk back like Henry and he's too scared to rebel in away.

-This is also a minor thing but the Bowers house is absolutely filthy, especially the living room and Henry's bedroom. He can't sit down anywhere.

-Finally, Eddie gets free and can fucking start looking for his friends to help him out. This is difficult though because Henry is actually banned from most places the losers club go, either for stealing stuff, breaking things, or threatening the people at them. He kinda just lurks in town for his oppertunity to catch them.

-Eddie's bigger and more muscular body is pretty much the only good thing about this predicament. He's so much taller now that it's actually kind of disorientating, and half the time he forgets his own strength.

-The Bowers gang eventually find him and drag him away to go shoot bottles and be dicks, and unsurprisingly, Eddie hates it.

-Patrick tries to make a move on him, Belch's behavior is disgusting, Vic's full of himself, and connor is just plain annoying.

-The way they try to egg him on is especially aggrivating, and unfortunately Eddie has to pretend like he, 1. Enjoys their stupid antics, and 2. Is Henry Bowers. Two things he is incredibly bad at.

-The one silver lining is that he gets to make some slight digs at Connor's expense as revenge for him being mean to Richie.

-Insterestingly enough, somehow, Patrick very quickly figures out he's not Henry, but that just makes him wanna hit on Eddie more. Of course the one person who figures it out is fucking Patrick of all people. Fuck.

-The way people look at Henry makes Eddie feel sick and even a little guilty. He knows he's not Henry, so he shouldn't have to feel guilty for what he's done, but the way kids stare at him in town really makes him think. Mike looks at him with such fear, he cannot help but feel awful and like it's somehow his fault. Bill sneers at him, Bev is digusted by his presence, Ben avoids him in the hallway he's so scared. It's horrible, and it really just emphasizes how badly Eddie wants to be himself again.

-While hanging out with the Bowers gang they try to force him to bully some kids, so he just sputters put some weird vauge threats that don't really mean anything if you think about them for more than a second.

-"We should go bully the losers!" "Yeah!" "Awesome idea!" "YEAH HAHAHA THAT WOULD BE SOOOO EPIC OORRRR, HEAR ME OUT, AN EVEN BETTER IDEA, WE DO SOMETHING ELSE!"

Now for Henry's turn!

-Henry wakes up and is immediately shocked by his tiny, fragile, uncalloused little doll hands.

-He's so much weaker and smaller now, and he gets injured much easier than before. He does take notice of Eddie's clean teeth though and uses it as an excuse to eat whatever the hell he wants with no fear of a tooth ache.

-Dude absolutely hates having normal hair, fuckin sucks.

-He also hates everything Eddie wears, finding his shirts and t shirts pretty feminine and weird lookin. Henry would rather chew on glass than ever wear a fanny pack, but Sonia insists he take it.

-Sonia Kaspbrak's smothering quickly goes from nice to incredibly annoying. She pinches his cheeks, forces him to hug her, calls him little pet names, Henry hates it.

-A lot of people call him cute now (Richie included), and the only thing more infuriating than that is the fact he can't really fight back.

-At school he tries to be his usual smug asshole self and he's quickly hung to his locker by his underwear. If it weren't for the losers he could have very well just stayed there all day.

-Belch, Patrick, and Vic all jump his ass and bully him, causing Henry to freak the fuck out and SWEAR he's gonna kick their butts when he gets back to normal.

-He tries to tell the losers to piss off, but everything he tries to do to drive them away only makes them more concerned for Eddie, and thus, makes them wanna reach out more.

-The constant array of pills Sonia forces him to take quickly pisses him off. The inhaler is even worse because he can FEEL Eddie doesn't need it, but his mom practically forces it down Henry's throat.

-He takes all of Richie's jokes SO personally, it's enough to make Richie honestly a little scared.

-Because Eddie's so much smaller than he is there's a load of annoying little moments where he can't reach something or lift something on his own, so he has to get one of the losers to help. The fact every loser is taller than him now fills him with almighty rage, especially Bev.

-The novelty of slipping by undetected and feigning innocence wears thin fast, as Henry misses when he was feared and not overtly condescended and babied by strangers.

-He tries to get his hands on a weapon at one point, since if he can't be strong at least he could compensate with knives and shit, but Sonia snatches it away from him real fast.

-Henry can't even decide if he wants people to know it's him anymore, at some point it just gets so embarrassing he'd rather try to fake being Eddie. At least if people expect Eddie to get pushed around, if anyone knew it was Henry he'd never live all the bullying down.

I'm not sure how this would get resolved or even how this happened in the first place, but I still think this would he a wickedly funny thing to see happen with these two. Right?

[swallowedbyfandom]

He wakes up a hollow shell. He cannot feel his Pen anymore. Her presence had been growing fainter for years since he first mentioned to her, that her emotions were a distraction to him while he was off at school. He remembers a sharp wash of dejected hurt followed by a more subtle wash of resignation. In the years that followed Pen had become so closed off that he really only felt her when he reached out deliberately. Looking back even then she was muted and faint. He really only felt her strongly when she was caught off guard or she reached out first.

Even muted as she usually was he always felt their bond. A warm glow humming in this soul. Even while in Greece he could reach out and feel traces of her grief and rage. She was likely not as guarded in her mourning as she was normally. He panics he cannot help it, he tries to reach out but there is nothing to reach for. There is no warmth, no tether, no echoes, he is devastatingly alone.

His screams alert Anthony and the Doctor that he is awake then they are pinning him to the bed. He vaguely hears Anthony over his keening cries for Penelope. Where is she? Surely she lives?

"Take a breath brother. You must calm down or the Doctor will have to sedate you to keep you from falling into severance shock."

Colin understands the words but not the context. How can he calm down if he does not feel Penelope? How will he keep track of her safety? What severance? Did his Pen die? He will not survive it. He will not live in a world that Penelope Featherington does not exist in. There is no Colin without Pen.

He pleads with his big brother, "Ant, please was there an accident? Where is my Pen? I cannot feel her brother. I cannot reach for her? Help me, help me."

He hears the Doctor call for sedation and fights harder he must find Pen.

It is Ben who stops his panicked struggles by telling him to look down at his mark. He wishes he did not listen to Benedict, their once perfect mark is completely blackened and he has three red vivid betrayal marks across his ribs. It is grotesque. A nightmare made flesh. It cannot be real. He would never betray his soul bond.

He renews his struggles against the hands holding him down, he needs to get to Pen. This is all a horrible mistake, he will apologize and hold her in his arms until the bond renews. She will fix this, she always makes him feel better. He needs to feel her soul or he is sure he shall lose is sanity. His brother's do not understand they have always been alone. He needs his Pen. He fights his way out of the room and down to the foyer before they manage to sedate him. He catches the horrified faces of the servants and his siblings before he fades out.

She watches him drift in and out of consciousness burning with fever for three days. She mourns Colin already. Her other children do not understand that the Colin they once knew is gone, burnt to ash in a fire of his own making. She has always known Colin and Penelope were a match. How could she not? They have always been drawn to each other like magnets. However she did not know they were partially bonded.

God, what was he thinking? How many times had she spoken of wanting to remove Penelope from Portia and Archibald? Had he just told them they were bonded they could have had Penelope living with them legally. She would have had the status and protection of their family. Yes, as adults they would have had to marry but bonded soulmates are never platonic. Once they accepted the bond it was always going to be marriage, or severance. There really was never any other outcome.

She does not know how she will react when he wakes a part of her is so disappointed in him, a darker part is resentful. There is nothing short of her children's lives she would not sacrifice to have her soul bond with Edmund restored. To think Colin had that bond and degraded it, until it broke. He rejected his mate whose only crime is being plump and undervalued by society. God the whispers that have circulated around the Ton since Penelope fled to privately recover are harsh. Portia in particular has created a ruckus about Colin.

She had wept for hours after she read Penelope's letter. Her poor soul daughter had suffered for eight years. Suffered enough to pray to become unmarked. She cannot fathom it. Penelope has always held soul bonds sacred. How much had Colin done for her to wish to forego their bond? While she grieves Penelope and the future grandchildren she will never know, she is happy that Penelope still has a chance. That Colin didn't ruin both their futures is a minor comfort that he destroyed his own future callously, less so.

He wakes up again his soul cold and so alone. He remembers the entire night in horrifying clarity now. The high from his thrilling victory, the glee of fitting in amongst his peers, the agonizing fall from grace. The last thing his Pen felt before her soul was torn out of him was pained relief. What did it say about him as a soulmate that she was relieved to be torn apart from him? She wasn't surprised to hear him decry her, she was hurt and angry but not surprised. Pen had simply braced herself and felt almost expectant. Anthony and Eloise are arguing not so silently on the other side of his room. He listen listlessly hoping to gather information on Penelope's whereabouts.

"You should be packing we are leaving as soon as your brother wakes up for good."

Eloise scoffed, "Does it really matter? Society has never viewed Penelope favorably. Who really cares if Colin broke their bond? Penelope is not even in Mayfair anymore. Why are we fleeing like criminals."

Tersely Anthony answered, "I have always wondered what god I offended to be responsible for so many selfish, oblivious siblings. We are the villains or we are the negligent morons in this case. Which do you think is worse? Your brother brought Miss Featherington into our family eight years ago and opted not to tell anyone. I am the head of our family and I allowed a partially bonded soulmate to escape my notice. Miss Featherington has endured harsh living conditions and financial difficulties that I was legally responsible to rectify. A duty I neglected. A failure the whole of society now knows about. What father will entrust their daughters into our family now? Col bears three betrayal marks what does that say about the way the children of our house are being raised? "

"Miss Featherington is blameless in this situation. She could not bring herself into our family. She had not a single betrayal mark. She suffered no ill effects from the bond breaking which means she remained faithful and loyal to their bond. She never in eight years betrayed our disgusting brother no matter the disrespect he paid her. Your anger with her does not change the facts. We failed Miss Featherington and now fate has gifted her a new mate. "

"We have fallen out of favor with the Queen who believes soul bonds are sacred. She finds the lack or regard Colin displayed toward his soul bond abhor and a clear reflection on our entire family. Did you think of your sisters for a moment? Who will marry ladies from a family the Queen speaks against?"

"Perhaps this would not have been so bad had it just been one betrayal, but three of them is not a mistake, it is a damn habit. I almost married my soulmates sister the only thing that saved us was neither of us knew. It paints a terrible picture about what Bridgerton's are as mates does it not."

Eloise stays silent for the longest time before softly asking,"How do we fix it, then?"

He hears Anthony's tired response. "We do not. Penelope Featherington asked that the Bridgerton family as a whole leave her alone. She wants no part of us, we have to respect that."

He wonders how his siblings think he will allow them to move him. No, he must stay here and wait for Pen. She must know he will be here waiting for her to come home. He will make amends and she will allow him into her life again and then fate will see how silly it is to take her from him.

She can have a husband and children if she wants he would never interfere in her happiness. He will make an excellent uncle for her children he promises, she just has to keep him too.

It is what he was going to do with Marina. He would have married her and been able to keep Penelope close as her family. He would not have left Pen behind, he would have had a lavish home built for her on their property. She would have her own servants, a library, and all the pretty dresses she wanted. He would have taken her away from the cruelty of the Ton. She would not have had to marry for status or safety. She would never have to tolerate some man's lust or risk herself in childbirth. They were one soul, any children he and Marina produced would have belonged to Pen also. He would have kept her safe and happy. It would have been perfect.

[ireadyabooks]

Dystopian Reads to Die For 🔥 ☠️

Dystopian fiction has long been a staple on most bookshelves for quite some time (I’m looking at you, 1984), but it isn’t until the past decade or so that we’ve seen such great dystopian stories being told for young adults. I’m sure we all had our dystopian phase when a certain Mockingjay was making her blockbuster debut, so it makes it even more exciting to see the genre coming back into the limelight! We have compiled some of our favorite thrilling and electrifying YA dystopian novels for you to add to your TBR this month!

The Kill Factor by Ben Oliver

Fifty contestants. Five mental and physical challenges. One winner.

In a near-future where a virtual currency of digital content fuels a fame-hungry society, a brand-new experiment that combines social media and reality TV has been greenlit.

Voted on, and contestants are sent to a maximum-security reform camp on an island where they can have no contact with the outside world. To lose means prison. But to win is to be free. The most popular young offender with the most upvotes by the end is given both a second chance in society and a cash prize.

This kind of money could mean everything to Emerson and her family who live in the Burrows, one of the subterranean villages where the government have buried affordable housing. It's more than freedom. It could mean the chance to change her family’s circumstance and finally find a place in the society they’ve never been allowed into.

But what Emerson doesn’t know, what the viewers don’t know, is that the prison on the island is empty. Those who lose, those who are voted off aren’t incarcerated. Each challenge will leave more and more contestants to die. And the only choice they have is to win over viewers before it’s too late.

Start reading The Kill Factor now!

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Ambition will fuel him.

Competition will drive him.

But power has its price.

It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute.

The odds are against him. He's been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined -- every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute... and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Start reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes now!

Sirens by Braden Cawthon

A thrilling, apocalyptic horror debut from Braden Cawthon, perfect for fans of KR Alexander and Joe Hill!

Joel Walker wakes up to a world suddenly and frighteningly changed. In the wake of a massive power outage, an otherworldly siren begins to blare, changing all that listen to it for too long in frightening ways. Desperate to find his mother and little sister, Joel will have to survive in a world that is coming apart at its seams.

An edge-of-your seat thriller that will have readers guessing until the end, this debut novel is sure to make a huge splash with YA readers.

Start reading Sirens now!

The Library of Broken Worlds by Alaya Dawn Johnson

A girl and a god, alone in communion . . . 

In the winding underground tunnels of the Library, the great peacekeeper of the three systems, a heinous secret lies buried -- and Freida is the only one who can uncover it. As the daughter of a Library god, Freida has spent her whole life exploring the Library's ever-changing tunnels and communing with the gods. Her unparalleled access makes her unique -- and dangerous.

When Freida meets Joshua, a Tierran boy desperate to save his people, and Nergüi, a disciple from a persecuted religious minority, Freida is compelled to help them. But in order to do so, she will have to venture deeper into the Library than she has ever known. There she will discover the atrocities of the past, the truth of her origins, and the impossibility of her future.

With the world at the brink of war, Freida embarks on a journey to fulfill her destiny, one that pits her against an ancient war god. Her mission is straightforward: Destroy the god before he can rain hellfire upon thousands of innocent lives -- if he doesn't destroy her first.

Start reading The Library of Broken Worlds now!

Monarch Rising by Harper Glenn

In a chilling near-future New United States of America, Jo Monarch has grown up in the impoverished borderlands of New Georgia. She’s given one chance to change her fate… if she can survive a boy trained to break hearts.

Today is the day Jo Monarch has been wishing on the moon about her entire life. It's the day of the Lineup, when she could be selected to leave her life in the Ashes behind. The day she could move across the mountains to a glittering, rich future.

Once Jo is plucked from the Lineup, the real test begins. She still needs to impress the New Georgia Reps at tonight's Gala, and her path forward leads straight to Cove Wells. The damaged stepson of one of the Reps, Cove has been groomed as an emotional weapon, taught that love is a tool -- and he's set on breaking Jo's heart next.

When a riot breaks out back in the Ashes the night of the Gala, Jo's dreams might all go up in smoke. Can she really have everything she's ever wished for… when it means leaving all her loved ones behind in the fire?

Harper Glenn's debut is as gripping as it is prescient, an unflinching meditation on whether love can save us from ourselves, and what it takes to be born anew.

Start reading Monarch Rising now!

The Getaway by Lamar Giles

Jay is living his best life at Karloff Country, one of the world's most famous resorts. He's got his family, his crew, and an incredible after-school job at the property's main theme park. Life isn't so great for the rest of the world, but when people come here to vacation, it's to get away from all that.

As things outside get worse, trouble starts seeping into Karloff. First, Jay's friend Connie and her family disappear in the middle of the night and no one will talk about it. Then the richest and most powerful families start arriving, only... they aren't leaving. Unknown to the employees, the resort has been selling shares in an end-of-the-world oasis. The best of the best at the end of days. And in order to deliver the top-notch customer service the wealthy clientele paid for, the employees will be at their total beck and call.

Whether they like it or not.

Yet Karloff Country didn't count on Jay and his crew--and just how far they'll go to find out the truth and save themselves. But what's more dangerous: the monster you know in your home or the unknown nightmare outside the walls?

Start reading The Getaway -- now in paperback!

[whatudottu]

Because Ben 10 introduced mutants in OS as a baseline ‘they exist’ presence to a ‘Ben has encountered multiple mutant individuals across the states in one (1) summer roadtrip’ ratio of commonality, I’ve been thinking about how mutants in Ben’s Earth are actually out and about in conjunction with alien life before they were able to legally exist as aliens in human public when OV rolls around. And because I’ve been thinking as much as I have, I think I can have my cake and eat it too when it comes to whether or not Kevin is mutant or osmosian-

Let’s start off by introducing a little term I’ve been calling pseudo-human (or pseudo-humanity). I’ve been using this in my head in reference to aliens or alien hybrids (human/alien hybrids or Earthling alien/alien hybrids) born on Earth during the prior to Omniverse just introducing legal recognition of alien residency, and the whole ‘pseudo-human’ coming from the concept of being raised to be or as a human despite otherwise. This does not apply to adults who have immigrated to Earth as they have extraterrestrial heritage, even if they have lived a long time on Earth having to pretend to be human (whether that form comes under perhaps plumber provided ID masks - I guess if your immigration is recognised by the plumbers - along with inserted human documentation that only specific levels of government know is in fact a plumber provided documentation, by shapeshifting a la lenopan or anodite immigration, or those that keep VERY MUCH to themselves because ‘woops that’s not human’ is something they can’t very much help without the mutant community existing as a safety net). And pseudo-humanity doesn’t inherently mean ‘no connection to alien culture’, it just means that what ever alien community there is (whether it’s kept to family or extended to a much larger group), the kid still in that period of not being legally recognised as a person has to pretend to be human if they’re a participant of society, raised as one instead in the absolute lack of extraterrestrial community.

This term would apply to three of my OCs, the previously mentioned and created live on screen the crystal twins Lucía and Blanca - one human passing, the other not - and the ‘has been sitting in DMs’ lead singer of the all alien band Thing/s Jed - a lenopan/loboan who with the power of shapeshifting REALLY gets to pretend to be human - who grew up with pseudo-humanity. But what I find interesting about this is that indeed, this term could even apply to the Plumber’s Kids too.

If I recall, it was Manny and Helen that had come across as indeed confused as being referred to as aliens. For all they knew they were Earthlings, and yes they are, but they have existed (along with Pierce) on Earth potentially under the assumption of - let’s hear it - mutants! In a Ben 10 world that mutants exist in, especially open enough for Ben to randomly encounter multiple individuals across the US in only one summer’s worth of roadtrip, what else would one assume you’d be if you were born on Earth and have a human parent? Even Alan Albright was just ‘suddenly’ a pyronite one moment, waking up to a burnt bed that he left without injury. Heck- Pierce could have (if mutant league wrestling competitions were broadcast) just identified as a mutant since Porcupine and Gaterboy were indeed siblings, in fact if they actually could watch older episode or even grew up on them Manny could see Fourarms and go ‘Hey that’s me!’ under the same assumption of being a mutant.

And tell me - tell me to my face - why wouldn’t there be, with as many mutants as there are, why indeed wouldn’t there be a mutant community? It’s part of the reason why I my Mutants and Magic au acts as my OC verse in conjunction, characters like Jed, Lucía and especially Blanca (who cannot begin to pass let alone know she’s specifically an alien) would have a better chance of having just some sort of community if mutants were around already having to deal with ‘not being human enough’ for non-mutant humans, because so long as there are mutants, pseudo-humans can find a culture that connects them to something if they cannot find community in extraterrestrial peoples.

And this, my friends, indeed turns to Kevin Ethan Levin, a runaway so human passing that even his powers hide beneath his skin. Though this kid had no community to fall to, though this kid had no alien culture to connect with, he exists as someone that can call to the mutant community just as other pseudo-humans can. Just as the Plumber’s Kids identify with the mutant community, presented perhaps as spectacles to gawk at on TV screens (one of the easiest ways a mutant could earn a living) yet human all the same, Kevin can fall under the community of folk just being human, no matter what others say. The developments in Kevin’s identity of instead being an alien - an osmosian - is really just an evolution of what information about himself is known, and though perhaps it is not quite the same as going from ‘i don’t differentiate attraction between genders’ bisexual to ‘okay so equal attraction just means 0/0′ asexual discovery, but like- isn’t that just more interesting?

And - AND - this means that I don’t have to retcon the Rooters from all this either, another bonus. It could indeed be that Kevin was identified as a mutant - Servantis certainly has a point of reference what with mutants being just another part of the Ben 10 world - it’s not like the Rooter’s are up to date about the universe outside of the Null Void. What does Servantis know of Aggregor, of the Andromeda 5, of perhaps even the Map to Infinity?

Anyway I hope that was cohesive enough- idk if pseudo-human sounds a little slurry or not I guess you could say this is a peer review non-beta read little post of mine but like- it sounds more like a clinical term rather than a community name but eh. Just really wanted to like... establish that mutants have an actual impact on the world so... I hope you like it!

[hoefortonks]

Little Jackal & Mr. Knight

Chapter 2: A package

Title: A package

Pairing(s): Steven Grant x teen/young adult!avatar OC, Marc Spector x teen/young adult!avatar OC, Jake Lockley x teen/young adult!avatar OC (all platonic)

Summary: after moving to London trying to start over, Mae finds herself meeting someone, or rather people, who help her cope with her past.

Warnings: language, canon typical violence, mentions of death/descriptions of dead bodies, mentions of blood, OC has gen Z humor (I feel like this should be a warning considering the stuff we joke abt), probably grammatical errors, written by a dyslexic, proofreadish

Word count:4k+

(Master list) (part 1)

The man woke with a start, instantly regretting his choice, as the aches and pains of his body quickly caught up to him. With a groan, he rose to his feet, walking towards the mirror of the bathroom.

“Steven, you wanna tell me why we just woke up on the floor of the shower?”

I dunno, mate, I was about to ask you the same. The man’s reflection snapped back in defense.

“Then how the fuck did we end up here? Huh? Cause it was your day yesterday, even though we agreed I had control on your days off from work.” Marc hissed, pointing an accusatory finger at the man standing where his own reflection should be.

I truly don’t know, Marc. Are you sure you weren’t just having too much fun with some of your lifestyle choices? Steven sassed back. We also wouldn’t be having these bloody headaches if I had the body more often. He added in a low mumble.

“You have the body 5 out of 7 days! 5! I can’t even do what I fully want to. And you took my day yesterday! You said all you were gonna do was get your groceries and stuff for the fishes, and you didn’t even do that! Instead, you chose to do gods know what, then helped out that 12-year-old, and ended up staying in her apartment for the rest of the night!”

First off, Mae is 18, and second I didn’t get to do any of my errands because you decided to take control in the middle of the day!

“I didn’t take control, Steven! What are you not understanding about that?” Marc was continuously running his hands through his hair, further tussling his already messy curls. Pacing the length of the small bathroom of the men’s apartment.

Marc, I don’t think you’re understanding. If I didn’t have control, and you didn’t have control. Then what the bloody hell did we do for 6-hours yesterday?

Marc stopped all movement, hand halfway through his curls for the 50th time since waking up, staring at Steven in the mirror. Steven looked at him expectantly, a look of concern present on his features.

“You don’t think-“

It’s possible.

“But how would we not know?”

Think back to Cairo, the same thing was happening there, only there aren’t bodies laid around us this time.

“But we would know about another alter. I would know about another alter.” Marc was growing frustrated.

Maybe not. Think about it, Layla said it was like we were a different person when it happened. It’s the only explanation, Marc.

“No, no it’s not pos-“ Marc was interrupted by the sound of his tv turning on.

The men both looked at each other, and Marc grabbed the closest item to him, that being his toilet paper holder, as a weapon. Carelessly tossing the paper roll off its resting place, Marc crept out of his bathroom, ready to attack. Fixing his tight grip on the piece of metal, he brought it up close to his head, ready to swing as he dashed to where his tv was.

No one was there.

Not letting his guard down, Marc quickly searched every inch of his apartment. Looking in every possible hiding spot, kicking, punching, and swinging the toilet paper holder at objects that looked as if someone was using them as a poorly-thought-out hiding spot.

The tv, once again, caught his attention. Walking back to his living area, he grabbed the remote from the coffee table, raising the volume. “This just in, the bodies of 37-year-old Marsha Keeten, and 20-year-old Daniel Bennings, we're found just 4 blocks from the London Eye. Marsha was found with a total of 26 stab wounds, while Daniel, well I'm not able to say his condition on live television. Witnesses say there was a masked figure in all-black with a white cape leaving the scene. The question is, was this the so-called Phantom of London? Or was it a new masked person, with a much more sinister intent?”

“Fucking hell,” Marc breathlessly said, staring dumbfounded at the screen.

Do you think it's another Avatar? Think Khonsu found another one already?

“It's possible.”

“Okay, I get it, we both have black suits, but that person was obviously much taller than me,” Mae grumbled staring dumbfounded at her television.

Remember, little Jackal, they only had a picture of you, and it was not the best quality at that.

“Whose avatar are they?”

Khonsu’s.

“Were you able to see his symbol on their suit?”

No, Mae looked at the god, brows furrowed in confusion. I saw him.

“You saw Khonsu?” She only received a nod, “how come I didn’t?”

Avatars can only see those whom they serve. You can see me, and Khonsu’s avatar can see him, but that is it. It takes a great deal of power and energy for us to have a physical form, let alone just show ourselves to those who don’t serve us.

The girl hummed in understanding before asking, “why do you think they were after them? I mean Marsha- Marsha was her name right?” Anubis only nodded as he sat crisscrossed on Mae’s kitchen island, which lead the girl to stifle a laugh at the look of the massive god sitting on the tiny piece of the added counter. “She had Ammit’s symbol as a tattoo. Now I’m not saying she deserved to die, but I can see why she was targeted by Khonsu’s avatar. But Daniel? And his murder was brutal.” She said with a grim expression on her face, stomach starting to churn as scenes from last night started to replay in her head.

Miss Keeten was one of Ammit’s followers. She was trying to finish what Arthur Harrow started, judging people, though she does not harness the power of Ammit. Daniel was just the first person she chose.

“You’re telling me she did that to him?”

Yes, and luckily the Moon Knight was there before anything else could happen. Anubis picked up on how anxious Mae was getting, choosing to pick a new topic of discussion. Have you checked for any packages recently?

“Hm?” The girl lightly hummed coming out of a daze. “What?”

I asked if you have received any packages as of late. The god’s voice was calm and as gentle as he could make it, which wasn’t very gentle, but he tried.

“Oh, no, but I don’t think they deliver anything on Sundays.”

I believe they still do packages. Why don't we go and check?

Mae didn’t question him, knowing he was trying to distract her from her thoughts. She got her phone and key and left the apartment, making sure the door was locked, twice.

Taking the stairs was faster than taking the elevator, it helped clear her head going down each step, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a cable snapping, making her fall to her death in a metal box. As she opened the door to the stairwell a thud was heard followed by a groan. She quickly looked behind the block of metal. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” She apologizes as she sees someone bent down picking up their laundry that had fallen to the floor. She didn’t know whether to help them or not seeing as it was their clothing and she didn’t want to anger them even more.

The man quickly picked up everything, never facing Mae, grumbling to himself about people needing to watch where they're going, before heading to the complex’s laundry room.

Do not think too much about them, Mae, let us go see if you have a package.

The girl nodded and proceeded to the front desk. “Good morning Glen.” she greeted the tall man with the brightest smile she could muster at that hour of the morning.

“Ah! Good morning miss Kyng!” He took in the girl's appearance, “didn't go to church this morning?”

“Nah I was too tired today.” the man nodded in understanding with his usual kind smile. “Did any packages come for me this past week? I forgot to check.”

“Yes, actually one just came. Hold on a moment.” Glen bent down looking at each of the three shelves behind his desk. “Ah! Here it is.” he poked his head up, before standing to his full height, holding a box that was about the size of Mae’s torso alone. “This one's a bit bigger, do you think you could carry it by yourself?”

“Uh, yeah, I think I can manage.” She said as she slid the box off the front desk, doing her best to hide the fact that it was too heavy for her. She made her way to the elevator, and as if on cue someone rounded the corner, coming from the laundry area. Focusing on not dropping the package in her hands, Mae almost bumped into the person. She looked up when she felt the person brush her arm, alerting her to their presence. “I'm sorry.” she apologized even though she hadn't done anything. Looking up, her lips curled into a smile at the sight of a familiar face. “Oh, hey Steven.”

He didn't say anything or even acknowledge she was there, which confused the girl. Is it not him? She wondered. The elevator doors opened with a ding before she could get lost in her thoughts. He stepped in first. Mae saw in the mirror that is in the elevator that it was, in fact, Steven further confusing her. He glanced to the left looking at the other mirror in the box. Mae cautiously stepped into the elevator, thinking she somehow upset her friend.

As the doors closed the two stood awkwardly. Steven hit the button for both the 5th and 4th floor, indicating he did see her but was just ignoring her. The elevator started to move, and Mae’s mind got the best of her. “Are you mad at me?” She blurted out, looking up at Steven. He looked to his right at the mirror next to him. After a few seconds of silence, his shoulders slumped a bit, and he looked less tense. “Steven?”

He turned to the teenager, “oh! Hello Mae.” He said with a soft smile.

“Hi?”

“How are you doing today?”

“Good?” Mae was confused. Did he really not see her there? “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just-“ she bit the inside of her cheek. Should she ask him? If he was mad at her she didn’t want to make it worse by pushing. “Never mind.” She mumbled.

Steven felt bad, he told Marc to take the stairs. When he asked him to have control, knowing Mae would want to talk, the man just grumbled. Marc felt bad too, he saw how Mae’s face lit up when she saw them. But he knew he couldn’t acknowledge her, knowing she would pick up that he wasn't Steven, even if he faked an accent. Both the men picked up very quickly that Mae was the observant type, she could pick up on the little things that not many people would notice. They both knew that she would be able to tell if she wasn’t talking to Steven.

Steven had tried many times to convince Marc to let Mae meet him, saying she was going to meet him at some point whether it was an accident or not. But Marc didn't know Mae, he wasn’t friends with her. How was he supposed to trust someone with a secret like this if he didn’t know them, let alone them know of his existence? Even if he is the owner of the body.

Not being able to stand the awkwardness of the ride, Marc gave into Steven’s begging to front. “What’d you got there?” Steven tried to break the silence.

“A box.” Mae quietly replied.

Steven chuckled, “well I can see that.” He looked at the rather large cardboard object. “Is that a postcard on top?”

“Yea,” she was a bit louder than before.

Mae, he’s not mad at you.

“Would you like help to carry it? It looks a bit heavy.”

Mae opened her mouth, do not even think about rejecting his offer young lady. Anubis sternly said.

Mae mentally scowled at the god. “I wouldn’t want to bug you.”

“Nonsense, Mae, you could never bug me.” Steven gave the girl a comforting look.

A small smile crept its way back onto her face and she handed him the box. The girl was shocked watching as Steven carried it as if it weighed little to nothing, casually walking to her door.

Entering the apartment Mae disappeared into her room area as Steven put the box on the kitchen island. She returned with a box knife in hand and hopped on the counter, sitting crisscrossed next to the box.

It took everything in Steven to not chastise the girl for sitting on the counter seeing as this was her home.

Mae took the postcard off the box before cutting it open. “You can look in the box while I read the card if you want.” She offered the man, which he excepted.

“Dear Mae,

I’m sorry this one is coming to you late, I had a little trouble on the 19th of the month, postponing my travels. Don’t worry everything is alright now. I have made it safely to Brazil, and have even met some friends on the way. It’s beautiful here, honestly, words can’t describe its beauty. Maybe we can come here together one day, they have Carnival in February so we will need to go then. I have a feeling you would quite like the celebration. As you will see I put some snacks that I found here that I think you will like. As always there are trinkets I found that made me think of you. I miss you cariño, and I hope England is treating you well. I don’t know when, but I will eventually make my way to Europe, and we can get hot cocoa (if the weather calls for it). I hope to hear from you soon, I will be in Morocco by the middle of September and will (try to) text the address of where I will be staying.

With much love,-“

“What’s Bala Juquinha?”

“Don’t know,” Mae said with a shrug, going to pin this postcard with the rest on her wall.

“It looks like candy. There’s also coffee in here.”

“Brazilian coffee?!” The girl ran back to her kitchen, sliding on the hardwood in her socks, giving the god she works for a heart attack as she almost rams right into the counter. “Yes!” She exclaimed, raising the bag of coffee beans triumphantly in the air. She kissed the bag, “thank you,” she sang to the non-present sender. Steven looked at the girl amused. “He couldn’t get coffee in the last country he was in. And I’ve been dying to try Brazilian coffee.”

“And who is he? If it’s alright to ask.”

Mae thought for a second, “a friend.”

“I see, a friend,” Steven repeated with a smirk.

“Not like that Steven.” She sternly said, wagging a finger at the man.

Mae proceeded to pull everything out of the box. She had a total of five different candies, two of each kind, ten all together. A couple of shirts. A rock that kind of looked like the actor Pedro Pascal. Some pressed flowers. And three pieces of jewelry, bracelets to be exact, but what stood out to Mae out of everything was a necklace. It was made of titanium and had a pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. The box it came in was black with a navy blue velvet inside where the necklace laid. A note was placed under the dainty chain, “so you will know I’m always with you. :)” It brought a smile to the girl's face once again, and Steven helped her put it on.

For the past two weeks, everyone in London had been on edge. Especially after another three bodies had been found, two of which were trying to do Harrow's unfinished work. The third was that of another young adult male, the same age as the last victim.

Marc and Steven had grown worried. Was it their possible new alter doing this? Steven was more worried about the fact that the two victims of each attack from Ammits followers were people around Mae’s age. Worried she could be next.

Marc tries to calm his alter, telling him, “she wouldn't be in harm's way, she doesn't leave her house.”

Yes, she does Marc.

“Okay for work and grocery shopping, but we started going with her to the store. She’s fine.”

But we aren't there when she’s going to and from work. Please, just call her.

“I'm not Cal-”

Steven’s phone began to ring. Marc took it out of his pocket and stared at the device in disbelief. Who is it? Steven asked, hopping to every reflective surface in sight, trying to see the screen.

“No one,” Marc grumbled after letting it stop ringing, tucking the phone back in his pocket only to have it start ringing again.

Marc, who was it?

“It was no one, Steven.”

Was it Mae?

“No.”

It was! Marc what if it was an emergency?

“I'm sure it's not an emergency, she's fine.”

Steven’s phone now buzzed from Marc’s back pocket. The men looked at each other. “No.”

C’mon, Marc!

“No.”

Just at least look at the message.

“No, Steven, you have a problem.” The man closed the three-way mirror, though, Steven found another reflective surface.

She needs someone. Marc, I know you've noticed. Marc simply pretend as if Steven was not there. You see how she acts, how she responds to certain things. How she-

“She’s not a charity case, Steven, so don't treat her like one.” The man snapped, finally looking at his alter.

I never said she was-

“She was wondering if you could meet her at the bus stop in 20 minutes,” Marc mumbled, after pulling out Steven's phone again.

Which one?

“Closest to the complex.” Steven gives Marc a pleading look. Marc ran a hand over his face letting out a sigh. “fine you can go check on her," Steven perked up, "but don't make this an all-day thing. This’s still my day to front!” He declared, pointing a finger at the fish tank.

After texting Mae back, the men head toward their destination. Marc walked slowly so they wouldn't have to be standing in the rain for long. Why of all places did we have to pick London? He thought to himself. Marc let Steven take control as they watched the bus come to a full stop.

Slowly but surely the passengers piled out. Marc found it humorous to see all of their reactions to the torrential downpour. Their looks of horror as their clothes and hair absorb the water. Steven scolded him until a familiar mop of shoulder-length brunette curls came into view.

The girl smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m so sorry for asking you to meet me, you were probably busy.”

“Oh no, I just didn’t hear my phone ring ‘s all.” As the two made the trek back to their complex in the rain, Steven noticed Mae was tense, paranoid even, looking behind them every so often. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yea, I just-“ she looked behind them once more, “I’ll tell you when we get back to the apartments.” Steven nodded, placing a gentle hand on her upper back, calming her growing anxiety.

As the pair walk to the stairwell starting to make their way to the top two floors, Steven asked the question, “so what happened?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but I think I was being followed. I noticed someone when I went to the cafe four blocks from here that serves those really good bagels, now they’re not as good as New York bagels but close to it.”

“I’ve never had a New York bagel.”

“You’ve never had a New York bagel?!” Steven just shrugged, looking down at his neighbor. “Dude they’re so good. They’re big, not too big though, fluffy, yet they have a slight crunch. And the taste. Oh my God don't even get me started on the taste!”

Keep her on track. Marc lightly warned.

“Ya know what? We need to take a trip to New York to get you a bagel. Wait, you’re a vegan! I’m sure we can find you a vegan bagel-“

“As much as I would love to travel to New York, let’s get back to what we were talking about.”

“What were we talking about?”

Oh my god.

“Why you asked me to meet you.”

Mae’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. “Oh! I think I was being followed.” The man gave her a look indicating for her to keep going. “I first noticed her at the cafe, I obviously didn’t think much of it. But she came up to the table I was at and started talking to me. I gave her short brief answers, trying to get it across to her in the nicest way to leave me the fuck alone.”

gasp! Steven you're going to let her say a bad word?!

“But she didn’t?”

The girl stopped her climb, looking at her neighbor, puzzled. “That’s the thing. She did leave me alone, or at least I thought she did. After the cafe, I stopped at a bookstore and noticed her. I thought it might have been just a coincidence, then I went to the bank and saw her again. Then I stopped by the park cuase it was a nice day. Until it started raining, but I saw her again. Then I stopped at work cause I had left something there yesterday, and she was there too. She approached me again, only she didn’t talk, just lifted her sleeve revealing a tattoo on her upper forearm. After that, I got on the bus and left her at the museum. But there was a man on the bus, and he was staring at me. I moved seats to see if he would stop, but he moved too."

Steven's concerns grew as she went on about the guy continuing to move seats as she did. Then she mentioned him revealing a tattoo in the same place as the woman's before she called him. "What did it look like?"

"The tattoo?" the man only nodded, "Um- it was a scale of some sort, but the arm thingies that hold the weighing plates were I think crocodile heads."

shit, you were right.

"I could just be paranoid. It could've just been some crazy weird coincidence."

"I wouldn't say you were paranoid, Mae. And you did the right thing by calling someone. We don't know what or if they had something planned." Steven said as he looked down at her, gently holding her shoulders, grateful she was alright.

Mae stared off into space as Steven's words settled in. "I could've been kidnapped or-" she stated slowly, not daring to complete her thought out loud.

Mae, without realizing it, tightly wrapped her arms around Steven's waist. The man, after the initial shock, reciprocated the action, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, Meghan. I promise."

For the first time in over four years, Mae felt safe.

Mae sat on top of a roof, legs dangling off the side, kicking them in the air as she scoped the area. Her fingers tapped a rhythm into the bricks, the hair that was sticking out of her braids flying in the wind after she decided to lower her hood.

"How much longer till we can go back? It's kinda cold out here."

Not long. The god had a better view of the city below due to his height, but that's not what helped him spot someone. There. He crouched to be level with his avatar, pointing a bony finger next to her head, helping her see what he was looking at.

"What exactly are we looking at, Anubis?"

Khonsu, which means...

"Moon Knight!" The teenager exclaimed, following the faraway figure with her finger.

Precisely. Come, little Jackal we must go now.

The two jumped on the roofs, making their way to the street corner, where Khonsu's avatar stood. The god and the girl stayed at their vantage point, looking at the scene below. Moon Knight was taking down another one of Ammits followers. They punched the man square in his jaw, using one of their crescent darts, leaving the weapon sticking out of his face.

The sight of the blood pouring from the man's new-found wound made Mae look away, turning her body towards Anubis for comfort. The god raised a hand, blocking the view below from her peripheral. After waiting a minute, and for the screaming to stop, the teen finally looked back down. The Moon Knight was nowhere in sight. She looked around the surrounding streets and allies, but she couldn't spot the avatar.

Mae felt a chill climb up her spine, and she spun around. "Jesus!" She exclaimed, backing up, forgetting she was standing on a rooftop. Her right foot slipped, causing her to fall back, but luckily Khonsu's avatar was quick. The person held a tight grip on the upper chest portion of Mae's suit. Their right arm was up, holding a crescent dart in their hand, ready to attack, as they held the teenager at an angle, dangling over the edge of the roof above the street below.

Khonsu! Anubis growled, Release her at once! I am in no mood to play games!

As if on command, the avatar brought Mae back to her feet, releasing her, before disappearing.

The girl's breathing was unsteady as she tried to figure out what happened. "I think- Ima just go do the ceremony now- yea." She convinced herself, slowly nodding her head.

Mae jumped to the street, stepping cautiously toward the two bodies.

She completed the ceremony for Ammits follower and then moved toward his victim. Going through the person's bag, she found an ID. Reading over it, Mae discovered her name was Lana and she was 19.

Mae froze before doing the ceremony, moving her head ever-so-slightly, listening to her surroundings. "Anubis?" Her voice was just above a whisper.

Yes, my child?

"Are they still here?"

Yes, the girl looked at the man with a jackal head, You need not worry, no harm will come to you, I will make sure of it. The monotone sound of his voice soothed her, and she continued with her task.

[haveyoureadthispoll]

In this riotous young adult romp for fans of Recommended for You and A Cuban Girl’s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow, a teen girl has the worst Valentine’s Day ever—only to relive it over and over again. After living through a dumpster fire of a Valentine’s Day, Emilie Hornby escapes to her grandmother’s house for some comfort and a consolation pint of Ben & Jerry’s. She passes out on the couch, but when she wakes up, she’s back home in her own bed—and it’s Valentine’s Day all over again. And the next day? Another nightmare V-Day. Emilie is stuck in some sort of time loop nightmare that she can’t wake up from as she re-watches her boyfriend, Josh, cheat on her day after day. In addition to Josh’s recurring infidelity, Emilie can’t get away from the enigmatic Nick, who she keeps running into—sometimes literally—in unfortunate ways. How many days can one girl passively watch her life go up in flames? And when something good starts to come out of these terrible days, what happens when the universe stops doling out do-overs?

[general-media-stan]

Spider-Man 13166 origin

Peter Parker was brought to his Aunt and Uncle's house after his parents were killed by something. Later on in life around 2022 thanks to the help of the Excelsior scholarship which covered most everything and the rest being covered by the American Legion due to Mei's service Peter graduated highschool at age 16 having been raised by his Aunt Mei Parker and his Uncle Ben Parker they loved Peter like a son and did reprimand him but never harshly.  Ben was always a man of his word and Peter followed suit, when Peter went on a college field trip he made fast friends with an 18 year old named Gwendolyn Stacey who had fallen on hard times after her dad quit the force during the Black Lives Matter Protest. He still had contact with an FBI agent however named Jean DeWolff and Yuri Watanabe who were there investigating Wilson Fisk. During the field trip which was at the New York Hall of Science, funded by stark international, they were testing Gamma radiation as a new power source a spider had broken in and became radio active. Out of everyone it ended up biting Peter (but it almost bit Flash and Mary Jane) causing Peter to look at it then brush it off... until he passed out and woke up at home thanks to the request of some task force. Aunt Mei and Uncle Ben were freaking out which Peter had no clue what happened, When he went to go take a walk to relieve some stress from Aunt Mei and Uncle Ben he almost got hit by a car which didn't kill him cause he jumped out of the way. Peter tested their powers more (he/they non binary) and found everything out even his weird ability which he calls the spidersault. He has the initial idea to make a quick buck, so he runs off only to run into Mei and Ben who are worried sick and try to have an adult conversation with Peter. They brush Ben off and try to get to this wrestling thing they heard about but get stopped by an attack by the Iron Man villain The Beetle. Peter gets his leg stuck under some shrapnel not understanding the spider sense yet, The Beetle holds Peter under captive making sure Iron Man can't make another move. A honk is sounded when Ben Parker rams his car grill first into the suit giving Iron Man time to free Peter, Sadly Just as Iron Man was busy The Beetle killed Ben. Peter furious, starts Savagely beating the armored villain only being stopped due to a S.H.E.I.L.D. Issued tranq Peter wakes up again, causing him to have a breakdown while being comforted by his aunt, if it wasn't for Ben Peter would have died, with that, at the funeral Ben Parker was awarded the Star of Rogers. Given to people military or not who save lives but lose theirs after everything. From that day on Peter dedicated himself to being like his uncle, not a by stander but an active member in helping NYC stay safe

[chachamedia]

The Do-Over (Book) *Promo!

The Do-Over

by Lynn Painter

[*] Download Link ⇒ DOWNLOAD NOW

[*] Read Link ⇒ READ NOW

    In this riotous young adult romp for fans of Recommended for You and A Cuban Girl?s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow, a teen girl has the worst Valentine?s Day ever?only to relive it over and over again. After living through a dumpster fire of a Valentine?s Day, Emilie Hornby escapes to her grandmother?s house for some comfort and a consolation pint of Ben & Jerry?s. She passes out on the couch, but when she wakes up, she?s back home in her own bed?and it?s Valentine?s Day all over again. And the next day? Another nightmare V-Day. Emilie is stuck in some sort of time loop nightmare that she can?t wake up from as she re-watches her boyfriend, Josh, cheat on her day after day. In addition to Josh?s recurring infidelity, Emilie can?t get away from the enigmatic Nick, who she keeps running into?sometimes literally?in unfortunate ways. How many days can one girl passively watch her life go up in flames? And when something good starts to come out of these terrible days, what happens when the

[bellavaughan]

[Download] The Do-Over - Lynn Painter

Download Or Read PDF The Do-Over - Lynn Painter Free Full Pages Online With Audiobook.

  [*] Download PDF Here => The Do-Over

[*] Read PDF Here => The Do-Over

 In this riotous young adult romp for fans of Recommended for You and A Cuban Girl?s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow, a teen girl has the worst Valentine?s Day ever?only to relive it over and over again. After living through a dumpster fire of a Valentine?s Day, Emilie Hornby escapes to her grandmother?s house for some comfort and a consolation pint of Ben & Jerry?s. She passes out on the couch, but when she wakes up, she?s back home in her own bed?and it?s Valentine?s Day all over again. And the next day? Another nightmare V-Day. Emilie is stuck in some sort of time loop nightmare that she can?t wake up from as she re-watches her boyfriend, Josh, cheat on her day after day. In addition to Josh?s recurring infidelity, Emilie can?t get away from the enigmatic Nick, who she keeps running into?sometimes literally?in unfortunate ways. How many days can one girl passively watch her life go up in flames? And when something good starts to come out of these terrible days, what happens when the

[hrkerlon]

The maze runner

#The maze runner series#

Minho shows Thomas a hand-constructed model of the Maze that is based on previous explorations. However, Newt, the group's second-in-command, instead designates Thomas as a Runner. Gally claims that Thomas has jeopardized the fragile peace between the Gladers and the Grievers, and wants him punished. Thomas, Minho, Frypan, Winston, and Zart enter the Maze, locate the Griever corpse, and remove a beeping mechanical device from inside it. The three manage to survive the night and return the next morning.Ī girl arrives in the elevator, with a note saying that she is the last one to enter the Glade, and recognizes Thomas, but he cannot remember her. Thomas lures a Griever into a closing passageway, which causes it to be crushed. Thomas runs into the Maze to help, which leaves all three trapped. Minho reappears late in the afternoon dragging Alby, who has been stung, but are unable to reach the closing entrance in time. Alby, the leader, and Minho, the lead Runner, later retrace Ben's steps inside the Maze the following morning. Ben is forced into the Maze and left to die as a direct consequence of his actions, along with there being no cure for his condition. The next day, he is attacked by Ben, a Runner who has been stung and left delirious by a Griever, one of the techno-organic creatures that roam the Maze at night. After a competitive fight with Gally, the boy remembers his name is Thomas. During the day, designated Runners search the Maze for an escape route and return before nightfall when the entrance closes. The boy learns that a vast Maze surrounding them is the only way out. The "Gladers" have formed a rudimentary society, and each assumes specialized tasks. A third and final film, Maze Runner: The Death Cure, was released on January 26, 2018.Ī teenage boy wakes up inside an underground elevator with no memory of his identity, and greeted by several male youths in a large grass area, called the "Glade," enclosed by tall stone walls. A sequel, Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials, was released on September 18, 2015, in the United States. The film earned over $348 million worldwide at the box office, against its budget of $34 million. The film was first at the box office in its opening weekend, grossing $32.5 million, making it the seventh-highest-grossing debut in September. Critics considered it to be better than most young adult book-to-film adaptations. The film received positive reviews, with praise for the performances and tone. The Maze Runner was released on September 19, 2014, in the United States by 20th Century Fox. Principal photography began in Baton Rouge, Louisiana on and officially concluded on July 12, 2013. In 2012, Ball was hired to direct the film adaptation after presenting a 3D computer-animated short film titled Ruin with a similar tone and was initially considered for a feature-length adaptation. The story follows sixteen-year-old Thomas, portrayed by O'Brien, who awakens in a rusty elevator with no memory of who he is, only to learn that he has been delivered to the middle of an intricate maze, along with many other boys, who have been trying to find their way out of the ever-changing labyrinth – all while establishing a functioning society in what they call the Glade.ĭevelopment of The Maze Runner began in January 2011 when Fox purchased the film rights to Dashner's novel with Gotham Group, Temple Hill Entertainment, TSG Entertainment as producers and Catherine Hardwicke intended to direct. The film stars Dylan O'Brien, Kaya Scodelario, Aml Ameen, Thomas Brodie-Sangster, Ki Hong Lee, Will Poulter, and Patricia Clarkson.

#The maze runner series#

The film is the first installment in The Maze Runner film series and was produced by Ellen Goldsmith-Vein, Wyck Godfrey, Marty Bowen, and Lee Stollman with a screenplay by Noah Oppenheim, Grant Pierce Myers, and T.S. The Maze Runner is a 2014 American dystopian science fiction film directed by Wes Ball, in his directorial debut, based on James Dashner's 2009 novel of the same name.

[softsmolbirb]

ages of Descendants characters

at the time of D3 they'd be roughly...

Mal: 18-19

Jay: 18-20

Evie: 18-20

Carlos: 17-18

Ben: 18-20

Audrey: 18-20

Chad: 18-20

Doug: 18-20

Jane: 17-18

Uma: 18-20

Harry: 18-20

Gil: 18-20

Celia: 13

Dizzy: 14

the Smee twins: 12

it's stated in Descendants 2 that Mal was 16 in Descendants (2015). what with them seeming quite young in Wicked World, all of the events that occur and time that passes in each novel, and them being moderately functioning adults in Descendants 3, the idea that they spend a good 3-4 years in Auradon makes a lot of sense.

it also has interesting connotations.

Carlos de Vil was only 14 or 15 in the first movie. this makes sense from his portrayal in the movie and isn't much of a difference from the others' being 16 - in Auradon. consider the dynamics on the Isle of the Lost, though: in the gang scene, he was probably the youngest major player of all the villain kids.

we know that there are six months between Descendants (2015) and Descendants 2. in this time, Uma and Harry win the Lost Revenge, build their crew and reputation, and secure all of Mal's old territory. that isn't a lot of time for the new normal on the Isle of the Lost to be solidified. Uma and Harry are still riding the waves of their sudden ascension to being major players on the Isle, which adds credibility to Gil's scenes in the movie and their astounding confidence in just. impulsively ransoming the fucken King of Auradon.

this timeline also means that there are 2-3 YEARS between Descendants 2 and Descendants 3. this makes the animosity between Uma and Mal over her crew's abandonment of the Isle - and Uma's character development into such firm determination to be a savior for the Isle kids - all the more reasonable.

so for 2 or 3 years, Mal and Ben are finishing school, settling into their relationship, and Mal is being prepped to be Queen; Jay, Evie, and Carlos are navigating school, friendships, and creating new roles for themselves outside of the Isle; Uma is roaming free outside the barrier, investigating the world but unable to do anything to help her crew back on the Isle; Harry and Gil are trapped on the Isle with no updates from Uma or news of Auradon, stepping in to adapt to the loss of the leader of their relatively newly-established crew; and all of the other VKs are left to rot without any follow up on the exchange program.

according the the novels Mal, Jay, and Evie graduate shortly before Descendants 3, which helps make sense for why - and why then - they were entrusted with selecting the next group of VKs to bring over. it makes more sense for them to suddenly be permitted to visit the Isle of the Lost to spread propaganda, applications, and mentor the kids when they couldn't before. Auradon brought one batch of VKs all the way into adulthood and now that they are proving to be promisingly responsible citizens, they're finally moving to bring over some more.

Mal, Jay, Evie, Ben, Audrey, and the others being in that painful post-graduation transitional period of life also makes a lot of sense for their actions in Descendants 3. they're no longer in high school and are suddenly confronted with deciding who they want to be and what they want to do with their lives. we see Jay settle into mentoring the new VKs very comfortably, seeming more comfortable in his own skin than he had been before; Evie is masterfully managing a home, business, and boyfriend; it's a logical time for Audrey to snap, when she'd managed to hold herself together previously; and it adds to the pressure Mal and Ben were under that inspired them to agree with closing the barrier.

canon pieces imply that it was days between the final battle of Descendants 3 and Hades' waking Audrey and that the barrier was lowered immediately after this takes place. this means that Ben and Mal immediately moved for dropping the barrier after Hades' speech, all of the Council supported them now in doing so (????), and there were no practical or legislative roadblocks to completing the action. very little time passed for Uma and Harry to wrangle people on the Isle; Audrey was released back into public favor at the celebration literally immediately; and there wasn't time for many conversations or relational resolution among the Core Four.

canon is stupid and I'm especially horrified by the lack of logic in that last part... but the more I consider these characters according to this timeline, the more I like it.

if you notice anything with this timeline that is contradicted by the movies, show, or novels, please feel free to point it out! references are below.

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"The Descendants movies have novels that fill in the gaps between them by Melissa de La Cruz. It's confirmed that they are canon as the author collaborates with Disney on the content.

"In the fourth novel (Escape from the Isle of the Lost), set before D3, Mal, Ben, Evie, Doug, and Jay graduate. D3 opens either months or a year after that, so we can assume they're 19 or 20. Still young, but legally able to marry. Carlos and Jane are seniors, so 18 by that point. The younger characters are all over 11, but younger than 15; as Auradon Prep only accepts boarders from 11 and up."

above quote is courtesy of leostan-127 on Reddit.

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I've seen people talk about Uma, Harry, and Gil all being the same age, and of Harry being the same age as Mal, so I assume the pirates would also be 18-20.

post updated on 07/27/22 to reflect Dizzy and Celia's canon ages and that there is six months' time between Descendants (2015) and Descendants 2. thank you @descendantofthesparrow for that info!!

post updated 08/10/2022 with updates to everyone's age range except Celia's and canon info for the timeline at the end of Descendants 3. thank you to @ishiphumasohard for that one!!

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

tua headcanon (horror movies night):

luther would definitely be the type to let his siblings hide their faces in his arms whenever they get scared. he'd also be kind enough to sit in the middle and hold the popcorn bowl for everyone because he's the only one who can get through a movie without yeeting it fifty feet into the air (like klaus)

diego sits on the floor, casually flipping his knives the entire time, the only indication that he ever gets scared being the way he does it faster and faster. and it's sort of an unspoken rule, but whoever's sitting behind him gets to be diego's unofficial pillow for the night. he especially likes it when it's allison because she has a habit of carding her fingers through his hair, and he's fallen asleep with his head in her lap on more than one occasion

allison is always in charge of snacks and drinks because she makes a mean margarita and she's the only one in this household who actually knows how to cook something that isn't spam or bacon or eggs or instant ramen

the ghosts in horror movies don't actually scare klaus; c'mon, the man has seen way worse shit than that. it's just that some of them look too much like the ones he sees in real life, and so he has a hard time disassociating afterwards. still: that little boy from the grudge never fails to freak him out, and whenever he's on screen, klaus throws popcorn at the tv until he disappears

five doesn't really care for horror movies but he does appreciate his siblings' efforts to bond, and so he sits with them for the hour or two it takes to finish a movie with next to no complaint. sometimes, he falls asleep only twenty minutes in, and has to endure all the teasing about being an old man when he wakes. when he does make it through an entire film, it's only because he's busy pointing out continuity errors or how ridiculous the other effects are

ben sits with them, but doesn't really engage; he's too busy reading for that. it's also pretty uncomfortable for him to watch movies about dead things and monsters under beds when he finds out that in another timeline, he was dead for 17 years before he managed to move on. besides, he gets more scared from the sound of allison, klaus, and vanya screaming than the actual movie anyway

once, they decide to watch a lovecraftian horror film, and ben thinks it'd be funny to release a few tentacles and sneak up on everyone from behind. the result is one wasted bowl of popcorn, a knife missing his ear by a few inches, vanya shattering at least three vases, and klaus' incessant screeching about "you could've killed me, ben! do you want me to follow you around for the rest of your life? no? yeah, didn't think so!" but hey: it's the best prank he's ever played, and it's just so, so worth it

vanya tries to pretend like she isn't scared, but she actually is. horror movies had never been her thing, even when they were young. but klaus' running commentary is actually pretty funny and allison sometimes tells juicy stories about the actors, especially the ones she's worked with in the past, and so vanya stays. besides it's nice to curl into luther's side and feel him jump a bit whenever somebody on screen gets murdered, and it's even nicer to laugh at him afterwards when he tries to pass it off as being "cold"

afterwards, they retreat to their respective rooms. but in the middle of the night, allison hears her door creak open and in creeps klaus, tugging ben by his sleeve with vanya not too far behind. after a while, luther comes as well, half-dragging a protesting diego behind him

they're in the middle of making an awesome fort when five teleports in, carrying a box of griddy's donuts and a carton of milk to wash it all down. for some reason, they've always just known when the others are in need of sweets, and tonight is no exception

while they eat, they share stories about their childhood and although it has the potential to turn sad really quick, it also helps them grow closer when they realize just how much they have in common, even after all these years. saving the world thrice from an apocalypse does that to a family, i guess

five is the last to fall asleep so it's his duty to turn the lights off, but before he does, he takes a minute to take in his sleeping siblings' faces: of ben--still slightly distant but slowly accepting that this is where he belongs--curled against allison, who has always thrown off heat like a furnace; vanya burrowed under three comforters because even as an adult, she still gets cold at the drop of a hat; klaus' head resting on luther's chest; diego face-down into a pillow, his hand stretched out towards the space they've all reserved for five, searching for his brother even in sleep

and in that moment, five just feels so much love for them swell up in his chest that all other worries fly out of his head because what else could matter when his family is here and safe and together again? so five flicks off the switch, lies down, and lets diego mash his face into his shoulder because even if he wakes up all drooled-on tomorrow, there's still no place he'd rather be