#spiders are one of the most common enemies

[artidoesthings]

Word of advice from me.

If you’re afraid of spiders or any sort of bugs.

please don’t play Skyrim.

[ariaste]

YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION comes out on September 17th! It's a cozy M/M romantasy about second chances, the difficult journey to self-forgiveness, and a one-sided enemies-to-lovers situationship 👀 It's available from most book retailers in hardback, paperback, and ebook (with more retailers coming soon) -- links to most of the common ones right here. The cover art is by the amazing @holographings, check out more of his work!

SUMMARY: Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam hasn’t forgiven him. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of disappointments and small misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. And then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.

This book might be for you if:

You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being one-sided and meanwhile the other person is living through a “hopelessly yearning for childhood crush” trope

you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they’ve been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn’t figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn’t realized that Person A doesn’t even know about his feelings

You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it

you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care

you know that apologizing for wronging someone doesn’t just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology

this one’s for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u

you like gods who don’t have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business

when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees

you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing

a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they’ve got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it’s cool

plant magic!!!!!

“god of temptation and evil” actually “god of self-care and personal boundaries and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to”.

"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles Preorder links for most retailers are here! If you live in the US and you'd like to order a paper copy from the retailer that benefits me most (thank you!), that retailer is Allstora.

(Signal boosts are always greatly appreciated, thank you in advance!)

[star-sim]

supermassive blackhole ☆ jay park pt. 1

☆ non-idol! spiderman! jay x fem!reader

☆ summary: You and Jay Park couldn't stand each other. But after a drunk makeout session at your university's annual soccer mixer, combined with Jay's secret identity as the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two of you are pushed closer to each other than ever, challenging your long-time status as 'enemies.'

☆genre: enemies to lovers, suggestive but no nsfw/smut, angst, fluff, spiderman! au, college! au, so incredibly american HELP, reader has glasses bc it's cute and jay has a lip piercing bc i said so

☆ warning(s) ? many mentions and instances of alcohol (all characters are of age) , this is very suggestive but there is no smut

☆ word count:  13.7k

☆ a/n: my dumbass didn't factor in character block limit when i wrote this shit so i'm gonna split this fic up into two parts... sorry guys :( lmk if you want me to tag you in part 2, also this has a diff style so lmk how we feel abt it 😇

part 2

“Oh, thank you so much, Spider-Man!”

It was a warm spring evening, and Spider-Man had been on his evening city patrol. When he found a little old lady calling for help, who was he to refuse her? Her cat had been stuck in a tree, and she needed someone to help her. Hopping up on the tree, he safely retrieved the ball of fluff.

“Of course, Ma’am,” the superhero chuckled. If only she could see him through his mask, he would be grinning. “Get home safely.”

Watching the little lady’s retreating back, Spider-Man shot a web to the top of a building, and hoisted himself up into the air.

On late-spring nights like this, it was peaceful. He liked the breeze that hit his masked face as he swung from building to building. Around this time, rush hour would be beginning, and all the university students would be getting out. Speaking of…

Peeking over a billboard, Spider-Man peered down to the university campus. His own university campus.

There was no reason in particular for this, but he liked to watch the university around evening time. Most people were beginning their commute home or to the dorms, but campus crime was not rare at all. It could be small offenses like graffiti or theft, but he would prefer those types of things to just not exist at all at a place like the university. And, he just liked to check up on his friends or people he knew, to make sure they were getting home safely.

His eyes narrowed at a familiar figure that made its way across campus. Even from a tall building, he could recognize that head. His jaw clenched, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip before shooting another web and slinging away.

By the time it was fully dark out, Spider-Man had finished his night patrol. 

Sitting on the roof of his apartment complex, he didn’t quite want to go in yet. He liked freedom: the physical freedom yielded from spider-like abilities– practically flying through the air– and the social freedom of anonymity. Leaning back on his palms, Spider-Man took a deep breath.

The clouds were beginning to clear up because of the weather, so the moon and stars were extra visible tonight. Clothed fingers creeped up to his neck, carefully pulling up the red mask that covered his face.

He was lucky that no one else casually sat on top of apartment complexes, or else his identity would be revealed.

Jay Park.

The moonlight glimmered on his honey-gold tan skin. The night breeze was cool, kissing his hot cheeks. He ran a hand through his tousled coal-ebony hair, letting his sweaty forehead that had been covered for hours air out.

Truth be told, he was a tad exhausted. It’s not common for the safety of a city to lie on the shoulders of a struggling university student like himself. Throwing his head back and letting dark locks fall over his eyebrows, he let out a huff.

Shit, there’s a party tomorrow.

Everyone liked to boast about the idea of soulmates. 

The idea that fate existed as the binding force that drew lovers of all disparate backgrounds together was prolific, pervading in all parts of history. From severed limbs that shared the same primordial origin, to congenital tattoos containing initials, to even timers that counted down every second until meeting, the concept of soulmates has been longed for, craved for, lusted for- for centuries.

Unfortunately, for you, the notion that everyone had an innate and pre-destined lover was a tad ridiculous.

There was no way that you could believe in soulmates.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

But you did believe in natural enemies.

“I can ask you the same thing, Park.”

Tonight was the soccer team mixer, an end-of-the-year party that the university’s team hosted to celebrate yet another exciting school year. Courtesy of your friends, you and your thick-ass glasses ended up attending. 

Tonight was supposed to be a nice night. It really was. Junior year of university was a stressful one, and you were more than ready to party all your worries away: you figured that you earned it. 

Much to your misfortune, though, there was someone else that decided to attend: the most insufferable, loud, and obnoxious person to ever exist, Jay Park.

There were several reasons to despise him and his funky, tousled hair. He was loud, rowdy, fiery, rambunctious, unruly, uncouth, uncivilized, hot-headed, talked way too much, had no sense of volume, and in your very personal opinion, just sucked. And, apparently, he was a total freak. He would show up to parties and socials, cause a ruckus with his presence, and then randomly disappear. He stood weirdly, and his mannerisms were just strange.

If you could go back and change history, you would have never allowed yourself to even meet such a person. Unfortunately, you two had intersecting friend groups and many mutual friends; there was no avoiding him given your social circles.

It started back in freshman year of highschool. The two of you were sat next to each other on the first day of fourth period English Honors. Your teacher must have seen something that you didn’t, because it was almost impossible for you to even talk to each other. Jay, the pubescent boy he was, would crack a few jokes. You, though, would stare at him vacantly, as if you were expecting him to add on. 

“Can you stop talking?” you asked him once. “Your jokes aren’t funny.”

You had meant it in a helpful way.

“If you want to make it funnier, maybe have a set-up and punchline? Your jokes don’t land.”

Really.

You were genuinely trying to be helpful. 

The only issue was that, like everyone else in the world, Jay didn’t take that well.

From then until the second quarter, you and Jay would only talk to each other if specifically asked to. You would turn around to the girl that sat behind you, and Jay would talk to the guy that sat diagonally in front of him. And when you guys did speak Jay would be unnecessarily dry, and in response, you would get irritated and snap at him.

When you finally moved seats next quarter, you still managed to see each other around. Too much. Your only interactions were limited to a few judgy glances, and occasionally, glares.

During the fourth quarter, Jay made an attempt to mend your relationship when you guys were placed adjacent to each other again. 

Except, now it was your turn to be offended. 

“Hey, I know I was a dick and you were a bitch, but-”

“I was a bitch?”

You’d kick his chair in class, and when the two of you were inevitably forced to talk, it’d be short and curt.

Truly, it was the summer of freshman year that really catapulted your relationship into what it was today. 

When you hung out with your friends over the summer, Jay was always (and truly, always) there. 

Initially, it was awkward.

But when you learned that Jay liked the same band as you– Muse– you thought that you could finally put your terse relationship to an end. 

“You listen to Muse?” You had tapped his shoulder one day at the beach. He was hunched over, listening to his music with earphones jammed into his ears peacefully. He looked bemused, cocking a brow at you.

It must have been the way that you said it. Poor, slightly socially-inept you, who, up until that point, couldn’t control your tone of voice. It was no surprise that Jay thought you were making fun of him.

Brusquely standing up, he snatched his earbuds up to go somewhere [Name]-free, grumbling something under his breath.

From then on, you two rarely got along.

“Something about his face pisses me off.”

“I don’t like how she says things.”

“He makes me so angry for some reason.”

“She’s a total nerdo freak.”

“I need to fight him.”

“I need to fight her.”

For the first two years of high school, there was non-stop bickering. Not necessarily malicious in intent, but it was clear that neither of you liked each other.

The closest thing to a “friendship” that the two of you formed was during the second semester of sophomore year, when your friend started liking his friend, and vice versa.

Both of you were getting tired of seeing your friends so cluelessly in love with each other, so you and Jay joined forces to push them together. Secret in-class texting, after-school discussions, shared knowing looks, and when they finally got together on the last day of school, a perfectly-timed fist-bump. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you and Jay Park made a wonderful team.

After that, you were just on your way to becoming great friends. Obviously, not as close as other friends, but it was undoubted that you had incredible potential to become very good friends.

Until one midsummer night.

“You knew that Taehyun Kang was cheating on Isa– with the girl that he swore up and down she shouldn't worry about– and said nothing?” 

It was a difficult night. Especially when you had to console a weeping friend on one call and yell at Jay Park on the other. 

“He’s my best friend, too,” was all Jay had said.

“And?” You had been incredulous. “Taehyun’s been making googly-eyes at that girl since way before he got with Isa! You knew. You’ve known this entire time and you still-”

“I didn’t know.”

You remembered the anger that began to bubble inside of you. You had spent the past few weeks trying to fix your aggression issues, because it was Jay that told you about your first interaction that got you guys off on the wrong foot. But now, you really couldn’t suppress it.

“Yes you fucking did!” you yelled over the phone. “I know you did. Don’t try to pull this shit on me, Jay.”

He didn’t respond.

“You’ve known this entire time, and you didn’t say anything.”

He had huffed over the phone, grumbling something incoherent. “I didn’t know until a few days before school ended.”

“A few days before school ended?--” You had sunken your teeth into your bottom lip, for the anger that was just beginning to heat up was now rising to a boil– “That was a few days before they got together! You had time to say something– but you didn’t.”

“What did you want me to do?” Jay was now getting angry. “You wanted me to speak up and ruin everything?”

“You could have. You should have. But you didn’t.”

“It’s not my responsibility, [Name]. It’s not your or my responsibility.”

The boiling anger was now seething. “Yes, it fucking was!”

“No, it wasn-”

If Jay could have seen your face over the phone, it would have been twisted with both disbelief and indignation.

“When you and I teamed up to get Taehyun and Isa together,” you asserted through clenched teeth, “there were some things we took responsibility for. And when they got together, we had the responsibility to be good friends. Good fucking people, Park! You–”

You had to take a few moments to breathe. “You had the power– You had the knowledge that your best friend was a cheating bastard that would– You know what? You’re just like him. You could’ve been a normal fucking person and did things the right way, but you lack responsibility and basic intelligence to do so.”

Through the course of that messy break-up, a few more screaming matches between you and Jay came about. Really, it should have been an argument for your friends to have, but you and Jay had had enough of each other. The floodgate that had held your relationship finally broke.

For the rest of your high school years, every interaction would just be blows at each other. It started as subtle, harmless jabs. But over time, those jabs became hostile. Petty actions, like light shoves or stealing pens, evolved into spiteful and calculated attacks, such as purposefully tripping the other or intentionally cutting the other out of a group photo.

Eventually, your friends made up and the break-up rift was resolved, but not you and Jay’s rocky relationship. 

The horror you and Jay must have felt when you found out you were going to the same university.

At the present, pushing up the metal-framed glasses that delicately laid on your nose, you could feel Jay’s dark eyes boring into you. Giving him a once-over, your nose scrunched. Once again, you’re reminded of why you could not stand this guy.

Tonight was a soccer mixer. A college mixer. Looking around, everyone was dressed as if they were college students at a college party. Because that’s what they were.

Girls, including yourself, wore small dresses and short skirts with plunging necklines and fat, wedged heels. They did their hair in all kinds of elaborate styles– you tied your hair into a half-down-half-up style. The guys wore ripped jeans, form-fitting button-ups, leather jackets, and if you were a soccer player, the iconic soccer team jacket- but really anything that was casual and easy to move in.

Jay Park, on the other hand, swore a deep-green hoodie with ripped jeans, like the uncultured villain he was.

Okay, maybe you were being biased.

A few of your friends did come in wearing hoodies and ripped jeans, and you did, in fact, come through the door of this frat house with an oversized hoodie draped over your shoulders. But, the difference was that this was Jay Park. Everything that he did was uncultured and barbaric.

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised,” you remarked, glaring up at him through your lashes. You were on your way to grab a few drinks for your friends in the kitchen when you bumped into none other than Jay Park. “You hang around Jake Sim, I hang around Jake Sim. Use your critical thinking.”

Jake Sim was a mutual friend between you and Jay, who just so happened to be on the university’s soccer team. Great guy, but the only thing that you would complain about was the fact that every time you hung out with him, you would inevitably meet Jay.

Jay scoffed. “Didn’t think a prude like you would actually show up to a party like this.”

“Prude?” Of all times to be calling you prude, it really shouldn’t be now, when you were wearing possibly the shortest and tightest dress with the most risque neckline that you’ve ever worn in your entire life. Those thin spaghetti straps were not doing you any justice. And especially because you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes would linger around your silhouette. “Who’s the one who hasn’t been laid in months? Who’s the one with the worst box-dyed hair on the entire campus? Who’s the one that lacks any social awareness and says the most uncomfortable shit in a voice at 260 fucking decibels? Who randomly disappears? Who moves around like a goddamn insect?”

“That’s not even fucking true!” The man waved his hands in front of himself defensively. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”

“I’m annoying? You’re the creep that follows me around everywhere.”

“You said it yourself! We have a mutual friend so we always end up-”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling that we end up in the same places because you choose to follow me-”

“I can assure you that no one wants to follow your nerdo freak ass-”

“Oh wow! How creative. You’ve been calling me that since we were fourteen–”

“Because that’s what you are! A nerdo freak that can’t do shit–”

“Why are you even here? You always have that job that you leave to-”

“Hey, hey, hey, party people!” a new voice interjected. 

Jake Sim, your mutual friend, with sleek sunglasses resting on his nose and a beer in his hand, suddenly appeared between your arguing bodies, throwing an arm around each of you.

“Jakey!” you exclaimed.

“‘Sup.” Jake was a suave guy, not a wonder that so many people liked him. “What were the two of you talking about? Looked like you were having fun!”

Jay cringed, his lips curling. Of all words, ‘fun’ would be the furthest from a good descriptor of your interaction. You seemed to think the same.

“Nothing,” you said through clenched teeth and brief glare to the ebony-haired man. 

Jake frowned. “Awww, don’t tell me you guys were fighting again!”

You and Jay locked eyes.

‘Don’t you fucking dare,' his eyes said.

‘Wasn’t going to,’ yours replied.

Jake Sim was a sociable guy. Unfortunately, it made him a little obsessed with making everyone get along. So when he found out that you and Jay deeply disliked each other in junior year of high school, he made it his life’s mission to make you get along.

Didn’t work. It really only made you hate each other more.

“We weren’t,” Jay affirmed, swiping a tongue over his pierced bottom lip. 

When Jake cocked a brow, you added, “Yeah, we weren’t.”

When Jake left you two alone again, there was a thick silence that fell over you (as silent as a rowdy college party could get). You took your drink, and turned to leave.

“Go fuck yourself, by the way,” you spat.

There’s many issues with college parties. A few hundred bodies of sweaty late-teen-early-twenty-somethings all squished together in a single frat house with alcohol and drugs was just a recipe for disaster. Alas, that was simply the college way.

To Jay Park, other than the fact that there was, ahem, usually the presence of people that he didn’t like at college parties, there was the fact alcohol was practically everywhere. No matter how many times he could vow to not drink on one particular night, he always ended up slightly buzzed or full-out drunk.

Like right now.

It was late into the night, but the party hadn’t died down even a little bit. His friends pulled him onto the dance floor. Normally, he would scurry off, probably scared that he might lose control of his spider abilities, but with the booming techno music, blinding LED lights, and alcohol that had happily found its way into his system, Jay’s mind was completely hazy. He could barely feel his own feet below him.

The next thing he knew, there was a body up against him. Definitely smaller than him, but plush and soft, moving fluidly to the music. His mind was completely fuzzy, but Jay could smell a familiar scent. Sweet and almost citrusy, like a summer orange. His arm slithered around the person’s waist, pulling them closer to his own body. His fingers found themselves snaking toward the person’s hip. His larger hands gave it squeeze, earning him a barely-audible squeal. 

If only he knew that the person was you.

Maybe it was the alcohol getting to him, but he felt a shock of fervor and excitement rake through his body.

Bodies moving closely together, he could feel a ghost of your warmth where there was clothes; where clothing was, he could only feel a touch of warmth. 

Jay could feel everything, thanks to his heightened spidey senses and the alcohol. Every motion of your body against his, every breath you took. Which is why even when intoxicated, he could clearly hear the song change from techno to punk rock– Muscle Museum by that one band he’s liked since freshman year of highschool. Muse, was it?

“Fuck, I love this song,” he heard you mutter in your own tipsy state.

Jay was sure you couldn’t hear him, but he slurred back, “Me too.”

His hands explored.

A bare thigh, soft and creamy. An exposed neck, an unclad arm, an ample uncovered chest. Something metal on your face– a piercing? glasses? You must have been wearing jewelry, because he could feel cold metal hanging from your neck and splaying across your chest.

(The amount of practice it took for him to be able to ensure no sticky webs came out of his palms was out of this world. Sober Jay would have been a little more careful, but it was a good thing that he practiced so much.)

When his hand gave your waist another squeeze, something must have clicked in your mind, because you slid your arms around his neck, turning your body to press your chests together. Pedicured fingers ran across his chest through the fabric of his hoodie, ending up at his shoulders. Another jolt of warmth and electricity coursed through his veins.

Jay’s head was way too blurred to really take a look at you in front of him, but again, that familiar scent filled his senses. 

When the lights dimmed and music slowed, you rested your head on his shoulder. He could feel your breath fanning against his neck, lip brushing against his skin. Your lips were half-moist; it must have been gloss that made it sticky, but there was a hint of dryness that he could tell was from being swollen– you were biting your lip so much it was becoming swollen. A warm chill rushed down his spine. 

How drunk was he at this point? He didn’t care, because the next thing he knew, he was pushed up against a wall in a dark hallway.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath, as you shoved your pedicured hands up his hoodie and played with the belt loops of his ripped jeans.  Throwing his head back against the wall, he heard you giggle, before you ghosted your hand over his lower abdomen, effectively sending waves of warmth down his body. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, flinching. He cursed his spidey senses for making him so sensitive to touch. “Don’t fucking do that- don’t tease me.”

He heard another giggle, before he felt a few nimble fingers grasping his chin gently, pulling his face down for a better reach.

It was a soft, but crazily attractive, voice that whined in his ear, “But you’re so cute like this.”

And then you continued, slipping your hand up and down his bare abdomen, occasionally stopping near his collarbone to tug on the metal necklace that laid so delicately. Meanwhile, you pressed open-mouth kisses on his neck, eliciting the softest sighs of satisfaction.

Truth be told, Jay had no idea that it was you who was all pressed up against him, but for some reason, the fact that he didn’t know turned him on even more. 

The wet kisses, which he was sure left sparkly pink traces of lip gloss, littered all over his skin, trailing from the part where his jaw and ear met, to his collarbones, to his Adam’s apple, and finally, to his chin.

With a squeeze to his bicep, you gently cupped his cheek, pulling him closer. With an experimental hand, you swiped your thumb over his bottom lip, pressing onto the cold metal piercing that adorned his lip.

It was a dark hallway, but it was now that Jay noticed the light that reflected off of your glasses’ lens. When he tried to look for your eyes, he was only met with the sleek shine that reflected off your glasses.

“Let me kiss you,” you purred into his ear as you ran your thumb over his lips. It was now that he could smell the tequila from your breath. “Please?”

Jay, all in his equally-drunken glory, threw his head back again against the wall, making a thud sound. “Fuuuuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Yeah. You’re hot.”

You giggled. You gave his lip piercing one more tap of the finger before entangling your hands in his dark hair, giving it a soft tug. It was a good thing that he was pushed so close against a wall, because Jay swore his knees were going to give out. 

“Thank you, baby.”

You gave his hair another tug, staring straight into his eyes. The half-panicked expression that spread across his face made you crack a small grin of satisfaction, and Jay felt embarrassed under your gaze. Gently holding his face, you pressed soft butterfly kisses along his jawline before you ended up at his chin. You pulled him closer so that your chests were pushed all the way against each other, the majority of your weight on him against the wall.

Jay swiped a tongue over his lip, sucking in a sharp and shallow breath. His chest rose and fell, swallowing so hard in anticipation that his Adam’s apple bobbed. You brushed your nails along his bicep before clasping hands with him; in a swift movement, you pinned his hands flat on the wall next to his head. 

The gap between your faces was closing. You were only a few inches apart at this point. Hot breaths and glassy eyes.

Hands still pinned against the wall, Jay could not tear his eyes away from that glossy sheen on your glasses. He wanted so badly to see your eyes, lock onto them. Usually, the inability to see someone’s eyes would make a kiss less appealing, but for some reason, it only made things more intimate for him. Combined with the darkness and intoxicated state, the anonymity was a turn-on.

Almost as if to tease him, you peppered soft kisses along his chin and around his lips. Freeing his hand from your grip, Jay snuck it around your waist, pressing you all the way up against him. He could feel every curve and divot of your body now; with the softness and plush skin, he wanted to explore it once again with his touch. His big hand traveled down your waist to your hips, caressed your ass, and ended up on the backside of your thigh. He freed his other hand to do the same, resulting in two hands on your thighs.

Jay parted his lips, peering down at you through lidded eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The music had faded in the background, but his heart pounded to the beat of the slow R&B. 

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

So close. You were so close.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Sliding his hands up your back to your shoulders, Jay gave it a squeeze. In a swift movement, he flipped your positions around, pushing you gently against the wall and placing a flat palm above you head.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

You giggled, grappling for his hair once again. 

Again, he could smell that sweet, citrusy scent.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

Jay leaned in. 

There was a sort of tenderness—intimacy— that he suddenly craved for. Closing that gap, having skin on skin, lip to lip, he needed it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum. 

If he just got a little closer… a few more centimeters, and your lips would-

Beep beep!

What-

Beep beep!

Bewildered, Jay flinched back.

It was his watch, which lit up the dark hallway.

You held his bicep, trying to pull him back in. He resisted.

Beep beep! Time to go! his watch went on.

“Baby,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

Jay bit his tongue. As sensible as an intoxicated person can be, his eyes narrowed at his glowing wristwatch. 

Fuck.

“I-I have to go.” Jay pushed off the wall, turning toward the hallway entrance. He was feeling dizzy.

“What? But-”

He eyed his watch, which was now glowing a red color.

“Shit, shit-” He turned over his shoulder, slurring out, “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t see your face but he could feel disappointed and confused eyes boring into his back.

On his way out of the frat house, Jay took a bottle of water and chugged it, sobering up (though still feeling shitfaced and nasty). He rushed out of the house, and the moment he stepped out onto the pavement, his phone rang.

“What happened this time, Jungwon?” he grumbled into his phone, still catching his breath. His hand came up to touch his neck. Even out here and sobered up, he could still feel the sticky kisses pressed against his skin, setting his cheeks aflame against the cold night air.

On the other side of the phone, a childish voice spoke. “Doctor Discotheque!”

“What?”

He heard a huff. “Doctor Discotheque! Remember? That villain guy! He’s here!”

Jay scoffed. “Where’s ‘here’?”

“At home, you dummy!”

Sometimes, Jay wondered why he employed his eight-year-old kid brother, Jungwon, or Wonnie, to help him with his Spider-Man endeavors. Given the fact that the kid was literally eight years old, it might have been a little pathetic to enlist the help of someone who couldn’t even do basic math. But honestly, Wonnie was the best he had– the kid was terribly excited to find out that his big brother was a superhero and he promised not to tell anyone only if Jay 1) told him everything that happened (correction: everything cool that happened, the kid didn’t want to hear about helping old people use the subway) and 2) let him be intel. There wasn’t much a grade-schooler could do to be a valuable informant (what was Jay going to let him do, run around the street at night?), but he sure did have a lot of time on his hands.

“Okay, okay,” Jay rubbed the scar on his nose. “Where at home? Like, in the complex? Outside?”

“Two floors below us.”

“What.”

Just as Jay was outside the general vicinity of mixer-goers, he heard a slew of heavy footsteps and then suddenly felt two arms wrap around his torso.

“What the-”

A very, very, very familiar voice began sobbing into his back. “Why’d you leeeavvvvveee?”

You.

You tightened your hold on him, burying your face in his hoodie-clad back. “Whyyyyyyyyyy?” you drawled.

“The fuck-?” Jay, cringing into his skin, tried to pull away. However, his nose picked up a scent that he was more than mortified to recognize. It was sweet and citrusy. And when his eyes caught the outline of your metal-framed glasses and the illumination that was strewn across the lens, all hell broke loose.

“Jay?” Wonnie’s voice called over the line. “Jay! Spider-Man! Is everything okay?”

“Hold on-” Jay replied. “Fuck, just give me a second.”

You, [Name] [Last Name], possibly one of the most insufferable people ever, was the one that he was all over just five minutes ago. You were the one that had him pressed up against the wall. You were the one that was touching and kissing him all over. You were the one that sent chills down his spine. You were the one that he was minutes away from taking into a spare bedroom and-

He sucked in a sharp breath. Not the time to think about that.

Now that he had soaked in the fresh air outside the frat house, the smell of alcohol was strong on your person. It consoled him that everything happened because both of you were drunk, at least.

“[N-Name],” he muttered. “[Name], let go.”

You were fuckfaced drunk, holding and clinging onto him like your life depended on it and wailing. Jay never thought that he’d find a day where you would be like this to him.

“I want youuuuu,” you slurred. “Come baaaaack insiiiideeee.”

“Jesus Christ, you college kids,” Wonnie clicked his tongue on the other side of the line. “Get a room.”

“Shut it,” Jay spat. Turning his attention to you sobbing in his arms, he figured that you had no idea that the person you were all over was him. If you did, you would be kicking and screaming at him. 

As much as he needed to go, he didn’t feel great about leaving a drunk woman (no matter how much he disliked you) alone at night at the side of a road.

“[Name], where are your friends?”

You sniffled. “I don’t knowww.”

Jay huffed. He couldn’t find your phone, and he wasn’t going to hang up on his brother– who he honestly really needed to get to, like, right now.

He had a few options: fail at his job as Spider-Man by leaving a drunk woman unattended, go inside and physically look for your friends which will delay him going to Wonnie, or take you home himself. He did not have a lot of time.

Which is why he was currently carrying you, his worst enemy, bridal style as he shoots webs across the sky, all the while being on call with his kid brother.

“When are you getting home again?” Wonnie asked.

“Give me, like-” Jay looked around the city- “Five minutes.”

A lucky feat of being Spider-Man was that he had incredible speed and agility. 

It wasn’t going to take much longer to get to your apartment, which he now realized was very close to his own apartment complex.

Actually, he was heading straight towards his apartment complex. 

Weird. 

Maybe yours is the one behind it? 

Nope, there’s just an old construction site behind it.

Wait, so then where’s your apartment…?

Oh my god, you lived in the same apartment complex as him.

Speaking of, you were asleep in his arms. 

“Won, what is Doctor Discotheque doing?”

“Having tea with our downstairs neighbors.”

“What?”

“What kind of question is that?!” Wonnie yelled over the phone. “He’s a supervillain! What do you think he’s doing? Wreaking havoc, duh!”

Jay took a deep breath so as to not yell back at this kid. “Yeah, I know. What in particular is he doing?”

“He’s being rude to the apartment staff.” When he was met with a judgmental silence, Wonnie groaned. “I’m serious. I think he’s waiting for you. He’s just being super mean to people right now.”

Damnit.

Jay took a look at the unconscious you in his arms. “Wonnie, I’m going to drop someone by the balcony. Take her in, will ya?”

Before Wonnie could blow up on him for bringing a ‘her’ home, Jay brusquely said, “I’m going down to kick Doctor Discotheque’s ass.”

Of all things in the world, you did not expect to wake up in Jay Park’s bed. 

The next morning, you woke up with probably the worst headache you’ve ever had. You were never one to drink, but maybe the university stress was really getting to you. Groaning, you sunk your face into the freshly-washed white sheets. All seemed normal, until you realized a few things:

First, who took you home last night? You had no memory of anything that happened at the mixer that night. If you thought about it hard, you could probably remember getting ready for it, meeting some, ahem, unpleasant people, talking to a few friends… and really nothing more. In fact, the bedroom you were in right now didn’t look like it belonged to any of your friends. 

Second, you were still in your clothes from last night. And makeup. And hair.

How did you get home last night? 

This was probably the worst hangover you’ve had in a while. Nevertheless, when you realized that there was talking outside the room, you got out of bed to investigate. 

Which led you to possibly the worst thing to ever witness.

Jay Park, with wet hair, shirtless on the couch.

The shrill scream you let out was enough to get a complaint from the neighbors.

“Oh my fuck, calm down,” Jay, in all his bitch-faced glory, rolled his eyes.

“You- You want me to calm down?” You were scandalized. Horrified. “You’re literally- You’re-”

“This is my house,” his eyes bored into you. “I can do whatever I want.”

“This- This is your house?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

There was another ear-splitting scream before Jay convinced you to sit down so he could explain.

“You don’t need to sit so far away from me,” Jay dead-panned when you sat at the very edge of the couch.

“I don’t want to be near you,” you murmured.

“That's rich coming from someone that was all over me yesterday.”

The utmost and utter horror painted across your face was nearly laughable. 

You?

All over Jay?

Was that why you woke up in his home…? In his bed?

“Oh my god,” you clasped a hand over your mouth. “Did we…”

“No.”

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Then how am I here then?”

Jay sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

If you weren't completely stunned into silence from the fact that you woke up in Jay Park’s bed, then you were now. Jay recounted a rather detailed account of what happened the night before– the two of you got drunk, and ended up more than touchy with each other. Your face heated up, with both embarrassment and… anger? 

Frowning, you asked, “Then why’d you bring me home?”

“You were crying and begging me to come back inside with you, but I had to go.” 

You glared at him, crossing your arms.

“Go on.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you out there drunk, you know,” Jay shrugged. “I was going to bring you to your apartment, but I had to fight– I mean– Spider-Man had to fight some.. Um, villain downstairs.”

You nodded slowly, but skeptically. Sensing your cynicism, Jay added quickly, “You can check the news. The fight was on the seventh floor.”

Your ears perked up. “Seventh floor?”

“Yeah-”

“That’s where I live.”

Jay’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shit.”

A great thing about being Spider-Man was that he was technically a government worker, a public service provider. The government paid for all the casualties caused by his work, luckily. Gone were the days that he’d be considered a masked menace.

As great as this was, it led to Jay being more or less reckless. Not that he was throwing shit around and purposefully breaking property when protecting citizens, but he had the freedom to do whatever was necessary. If he had to break down walls to save people, then so be it.

Speaking up, Spider-Man went a little.. Err… crazy last night. Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in his system, or the fact that Doctor Discotheque the supervillain was literally insane. Safe to say, when fighting in the hallway of the seventh floor, Jay got a little aggressive and broke a few more things than usual.

If you found out that he-- Jay-- was Spiderman, a.k.a. the one that probably damaged your home, he’d be dead. Luckily, you wouldn't find out. Unluckily, your apartment was among those that were damaged last night.

“Can you stop that?” Jay said.

There were many reasons that Jay Park deeply disdained you. You were nit-picky, snobby, arrogant, pretentious, overly-critical, fussy, and extremely judgmental. Everyone thought you were some sort of genius, and he could tell that you liked the fact that they did. 

“I’m fuckin’ stressed,” you spat as you paced around the floor. “I don’t think I can really ‘stop.’”

Not that he was a sick person, but the expression of genuine distress spread all over your face was almost satisfying. But then Jay realized the situation you were in and he knew it was his fault, so he felt just a little bad. 

You lost your phone last night, and your apartment was more than a little damaged, the entire seventh floor being tarped and taped off. Sitting on the couch, you chewed on your bottom lip. It wasn’t even noon yet. Given your group of friends and the events last night, it wasn’t likely that any of them were awake at this time. And you didn’t have your phone- it wasn’t like you could just easily phone someone that wasn’t there last night.

You had a massive headache, feeling lightheaded with a throbbing sensation up there. You felt gross, with smudged makeup and the same tiny dress from last night. You could definitely walk to a friend’s place and wait there, but the heels you wore last night were the tallest, most painful, party-purposed stilettos. You were absolutely not walking around the city in those shoes.

The worst part about it all was that you were stuck in the apartment of none other than Jay Park. 

Could you appreciate the fact that he looked out for you by taking you home? Yeah, sure.

But could you stand him? Absolutely not.

“Why are you walking around like that?” He was getting persnickety, as payback for all the times that you’d been nit-picky towards him. “You’re going to ruin my floorboards.”

You sent him a glare. Some empathy would be nice, you thought, rolling your eyes.

There really was only one person that was accessible to you if you wanted to get out of here, and it was Jay himself. You never really thought that there would be a day where you would need to ask for his help, but here you were, practically stranded. Speaking of, he was ignoring you, occasionally looking up from his phone to give you a weird look.

If you wanted to go home, you would need to swallow your pride and just ask for help.

You prided yourself in your ability to be blunt. You were a natural leader, ambitious and aggressive. You never had an issue with announcing your wants or needs. But now faced with the piercing silence of Jay Park, you simply could not open your mouth to speak. It wasn’t like you couldn't ask him, but that you wouldn't. Curling your lips, you let the glum, nearly shameful, feeling fall over yourself.

Eyes tracing the man’s outline carefully, you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

‘[Name], you can do this,’ you recited to yourself. ‘You can do this. Just talk to him, just talk to-’

You pressed your lips together, before taking a deep breath and opening your mouth to speak. As you attempted to say his name, no sound came out. When he glanced up at you suspiciously,you quickly averted your gaze and closed your mouth.

When he looked away, your eyes flickered back to him, simply drilling into him. You licked your lips. For the second time, you opened your mouth to say his name, bracing yourself for the sound of your voice, but Jay spoke before you did.

“What are you looking at?” 

You stood up straight like a board, pushing up your glasses clumsily.

“I- Well-”you cursed yourself for stammering. You never stammered like this. “I…”

He looked at you expectantly.

Your ego, that fat chunk of an ego, was crumbling.

“Park,” you brusquely said. 

He leered at you. “What?”

You stared at him awkwardly, lips pressed into a line as thin as paper. “I… I.. um.”

He clicked his tongue impatiently. “On with it.”

You huffed loudly. 

“Can I please use your phone?”

The second last thing that you expected to happen ever was to be sitting on Jay Park’s bed with wet hair wearing his hoodie and sweatpants. And that other than asking him for help.

Never have you felt so ashamed of yourself, sitting on the soft bed with your knees up to your chest. 

The judgy glance that Jay gave you was absolutely soul-crushing, and after a humiliating stutter-filled explanation, he simply said, “Go take a shower.”

Were you initially mortified? Absolutely. But after soaking in the warm water for a few minutes, you begrudgingly thanked him. But only in your head.

Staring at a spot on the floor, you pressed your face into your knee, reflecting upon everything that had happened. As you were lost in thought, what startled you was a loud beeping sound, the slamming of a window, and yelling. You jumped to your feet in reaction, but before you could creep out of the bedroom, someone else came in.

Instead of a tall, well-built man with black hair, it was a young boy no older than ten holding a massive walkie talkie.

“Who- Who are you?”

The boy blinked owlishly, before cracking a grin. “Oh, it’s you!”

You recoiled. “Wh-What?”

“You’re the lady from last night!” he laughed, revealing sharp canine teeth. When you only looked more bewildered, he continued, “The lady that Jjongsaeng brought home last night!”

Jjongsaeng? “You mean Park— er, Jay?”

The boy frowned. “He didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend,” he murmured to himself quietly, before turning over to you. “Mhm!”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You were a little concerned. Who was this child and why was he in Jay Park’s apartment?

“Oh!” The boy laughed again, throwing his head back. He came closer to you, extending a small hand towards you. “Jungwon! But just call me Wonnie!”

Okay, but your question wasn’t answered exactly. “Are you…” you took a better look at Wonnie. He was just so small! Though, he looked an awful lot like Jay Park… – “Are you his son… or…?”

The boy put an offended hand over his chest, scowling deeply. 

“Son?” he gawked. “I’m his brother!!”

Your lips formed an ‘o.’

“And what’s your name?” Wonnie looked at you curiously.

“[Name] [Last Name]– Just– Just call me [Name].”

A silence fell over you two.

“Do you- Do you know where your brother is?” When Wonnie gave you a suspicious look, you quickly added, “I need to use his phone.”

He gave you another long stare, before saying simply, “He’s not here.”

How could he not be here? Jay was just here, like, twenty minutes ago? “What do you mean?” you narrowed your eyes.

“He-” Wonnie’s large eyes hovered over to the window quickly, before fluttering back to you. “He went to work.”

“Doesn’t he have a night internship?”

Wonnie grumbled something under his breath, almost looking stressed, gripping the walkie talkie. “Yyyyyessss,” he nodded slowly. “But he has a day job too…. As an.. Um, photographer?”

You nodded slowly. “Right. When do you expect he’ll be back?”

Wonnie glanced at the window again. “In, like, fifteen minutes-”

Crash!

You two rushed over to the living room window, peering across to the construction site behind the apartment complex. There, there were news reporters, blaring ambulances and police cars, and rubble and dust everywhere. Not to mention the elephant in the room: Spider-Man and two criminals.

“Oh my god, is that Spider-Man?”

Wonnie didn’t seem as impressed as you, opting to toy with his walkie talkie. “Yeah, he’s here all the time. Cool guy.”

You frowned. You lived only a few floors down and you wouldn’t say that Spider-Man was ‘here all the time.’ 

“Really? This is my first time seeing him.”

Fingering the window handle, you pushed it open.

You’d heard all the stories. Your friends talk about seeing the red-and-blue-clad hero with his iconic spider logo. He was some neighborhood hero. According to a few of your friends, he’d help them fight off muggers and creeps, swinging in with his sticky white webs just moments before all hell broke loose. Apparently, he was a super suave guy, and according to a few, really hot. 

“As hot as a masked hero can be,” you would laugh with your friends. Now watching from a few stories up, you could definitely see the appeal. The sun was out, casting a harsh shadow on Spider-Man’s defined back muscles. The skin-tight suit hugged his strong arms and sturdy build. 

There was something so fascinating about Spider-Man. He was strong, friendly, dutiful, sure. But what made him so alluring was that you wanted to study him– dissect him. It was only in your nature to want to know every single inner-workings of a figure like him.

You then felt a poke at your side. It was Wonnie.

“What, are you in love with him or something?”

You tore your eyes from Spider-Man’s figure. “What? No!”

Wonnie raised his brows. “Hmmm… Okay.”

You turned back over to the window, except when you scanned for Spider-Man, he had disappeared completely.

“Hey, where did he-”

The front door of the Park apartment flew right open, revealing a disheveled Jay Park. 

“Y-You’re back already?” Wasn’t he just at a job….?

Jay waved his hand in front of him, taking off his shoes. “Yeah. Why? Were you gonna do something?”

Your nose scrunched. “No! I just thought you were at a job.”

Jay scoffed. “Who told you that-” He cut himself off when he noticed the awkward expression painted across Wonnie’s face. 

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” he muttered.

Jay Park would have never guessed that you would be sleeping in his bed. For the second night. In a row. None of your friends had enough space for you to crash, and if not, they just didn’t pick up the phone. 

“You need better friends,” Jay had told you in a matter-of-fact way, earning a sharp glare. 

And it wasn’t an easy decision to let you stay with him either.

The apartment was a 2-bedroom one. One for himself, one for his kid brother. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make Wonnie leave his room or you and Wonnie share a room, and he most definitely was not sharing a bed with you. He’d make you sleep on the couch, but the Spider-Man in him told him not to. So very grudgingly, Jay let you take his room.

He was only allowing this because it was him that practically destroyed your apartment. Even if he didn’t like you, he did take responsibility for what happened.

Maybe that one argument you had the summer of sophomore year got to him. 

And plus, he could not stand you. All the little jabs you made at him, even down to your facial expressions, had him riled up. But, for the sake of the child in the room, Jay made no big attempt to fight back.

Curled up on the couch, Jay couldn’t shake off the glum feeling that settled on his chest.

Jay Park never realized how many qualms he would have with another person living in his house. 

He was okay with Wonnie, because Wonnie knew his identity as Spider-Man. And plus, Wonnie was his brother– that little squirt was tolerable. When it’s just the two of them, Jay could do basically anything he wanted. Wonnie was more than enthusiastic when he would use his webs to pull objects toward him or hang on the ceiling just because he could, and it was a rather common occurrence for you two to make a ruckus whenever there was crime in town. Jay could go do Spider-Man things whenever he needed to, and Wonnie would be okay with it.

But now with you living with him temporarily, he had to be a lot more careful.

Especially with your nitpicking everything he does.

“Why do you cut your bread like that?”

“Ew, your butter is so hard.”

“Can you stop chewing so loud?’

“Why does your face look like that?-- Oh, hi Wonnie!”

“Hi, [Name]!”

It seemed like Wonnie and you got along better. 

“Hey, where are you going?” you asked from the kitchen table.

Jay, who was putting on his coat and shoes at the door, made a face. Swinging his backpack over his shoulders, he took Wonnie’s hand. “What do you think we’re doing?”

It was a rhetorical question, but you answered matter-of-factly. “Class doesn’t start until nine though!”

Jay pointed to Wonnie. “Gotta take him to school.”

That was only partially the truth. He did indeed take Wonnie to elementary school, but like every morning, he went on a morning patrol. The amount of small robberies and little school children walking into traffic was a bit staggering, but not to worry, Spider-Man was on his way.

Like right now.

As Jay swung from building to building, he carefully scanned the alleyways and streets to possibly catch any crime. When he stopped to rest atop a mix-use flower shop, crouching in his iconic pose, he spotted two children and a man.

Jay’s enhanced senses allowed him to hear the conversation-

“Let go!” one of the children pleaded, pulling away from the man. The other child, clearly the younger one, confusedly held onto the other.

“Kids, kids!” the man chuckled, continuing his tightened grip. “Just come with me. I’m your parents’ friend!”

The older of the two scrunched her nose, continuing to resist the man.

Jay observed from above. Clearly, these children had no idea who this man was. By the looks of it, there wasn’t anyone else around. Even if the kids screamed, no one would come to the rescue quick enough. This weird kidnapper guy could definitely take these kids without a doubt.

Cue the screaming and crying.

Panicked, the man tightened his grip on the kids, jerking them along as he began to walk towards the alleyway.

Fuckin’ creep, Jay thought before shooting a white web at the lampost a few meters down the pavement, swinging down. Extending a leg, he held onto the web as he suspended across the air. As he closed in on the man, he heard the two children let out shrill gasps just as Jay's foot made impact with the man’s cheek.

The brief moment of surprise made the man loosen his grip on the two children, allowing for them to scurry back. Now on the ground, Jay stood over his fallen figure.

Disgusting, he thought as he peered down at the man. Just thinking about what he would have done to the children made him angry. The man groaned in pain. Jay leaned down to the man, bringing a masked, yet somehow patronizing, face to him.

“Hey, buddy!” His words were ordinary, but very clearly filled with contempt. “Whatcha doin’ over there with those kids?”

When the man didn’t answer, Jay stamped a foot right between the man’s legs, impossibly close to his crotch. “C’mon, man. Wontcha explain?”

The panic in the man’s eyes was satisfying, as he began to draw out a pocket knife. 

“S-Spider-Man?!”

Under his mask, Jay cracked a smirk. “Honored to be at your service.”

The man ogled at Spider-Man’s built figure– he stood no chance against the hero. Regardless, he stumbled to his feet, pointing the blade at Jay. “Stay back!”

Jay laughed.

“Oh no! A knife! Anything but the knife!” Jay feigned fear, cowering into himself. “I’m so scared! Please! My biggest weakness is a tiny little knife!”

The man faltered, staring hesitantly at the hero. Jay took this moment to shoot one more web at the street light, giving him momentum to jump in and kick this guy in the face again.

“Oh, man,” Jay chuckled. “That knife really got me.”

“I-I’m sorry!” The man gawked at the hero’s figure standing over him, spluttering as he struggled to his feet and finally scuttling away.

Jay watched his running back carefully.

“Thank you so much, Spider-Man!” he heard the children cheering behind him. Turning over his shoulder, Jay gave them a salute, before shooting a web and swinging away.

When classes for the day ended, Jay Park wanted a head-start on patrolling. The sun was only beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the city. He liked this time of day the most. There was always a faint citrusy smell in the air, and he wished he could take off his mask to feel the wind rake through his hair. 

He checked all the important places– the bank, the university, the bus station, and especially the central business district. The alleyways were crazy notorious for being crime-ridden, so he was extra attentive with the patrol. 

Speaking of, there seemed to be a bit of a conundrum right now. From the top of a high-rise building, Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the figures a few hundred feet below him. It was no uncommon occurrence for there to be some sort of assault (with Spider-Man here, attempted assault) in a dark alleyway. Jay always followed a basic procedure:

Step one: identify what’s happening.

From above, he could see that– oh shit– a woman was going to be mugged. 

Little did he know, much to both of your luck, that woman was you.

Step two: identify the threat.

Two guys, both disheveled, one with a pocket-knife. Even though he couldn’t see your face, just by the looks of it, you were clearly disadvantaged– these two guys were massive compared to you.

“We see ya wallet, girl,” one of the men said. For two people who were very much advantaged, they were rather shy with the knife, holding it low and with little confidence. “Hand ovah the money.”

When you didn’t respond, they got a little more vindictive, slamming the rusted brick wall, demanding for money.

Step three: swoop in and-

Jay was bewildered by the raucous clanking of metal trash can tops against the dirty pavement. Gaping down, he could see one of the men crashed up against the trash cans, and the other one taken aback. 

Did you just…?

Jay was taken by surprise once again when he heard grunting and groaning in pain. You were kicking these men when they were down. With heeled shoes. And it was now that he finally noticed your physicality: [H/C] hair. Glasses. Big attitude. Oh my god, how did he not realize that it was you?

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you landed a kick at the crotch. Jay hissed in pain just at the sight of that. “Huh? You think you own this fuckin’ place?” Another kick. “Fuckin’ scum.”

Jay was contemplating whether or not he should go down there and give you– [Name]-fucking-[Last Name]– a hand. He was going to decide against it, when his spidey senses picked up the very crisp sound of a blade scraping across the pavement. While you were busy cussing out one of the assailants, you didn’t notice the way one of the men unsheathed the pocket-knife. 

Jay could see it— In a matter of seconds, the guy’d bare the blade and shank your right in the abdomen. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, tongue swiping right over his metal lip piercing.

“Hey, fuckface!” In one fell swoop, Jay landed a powerful punch to the blade-bearing assailant’s cheek, sending him flying down the alleyway. you let out a shriek. “Spider-Man?!”

It was weird to see you startled like this. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

In his defense, there was not a bone in his body that thought that you were gorgeous. It was simply a habit he took on when he assumed the role of Spider-Man. He said that to everyone.

The second assailant, the one that you had basically beat up with words, was still keeled against the trash cans, eyes widened and fearful of what the friendly neighborhood hero could do.

Jay leaned down to be at eye-level with the man. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

The man spluttered, and Jay sneered. The kick that the hero gave to the man square in the chest subsequently propelled him down the alleyway, joining his friend at the back. 

“Maybe don’t try to mug someone in broad daylight, bud.”

When Jay heard a few clanking sounds and groans of pain, he turned to you.

You were looking at him with large, shiny eyes, utterly consumed in admiration. Jay cringed at the silence that fell over the two of you. It wasn’t normal for there to be such a calm silence between him and you. If there wasn’t arguing, then there’d be an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere.

“I- Spider-Man…” you said, looking up at him through your glasses. The way that your eyes were practically glued to his masked face had Jay scrunching his nose. After a long silence of you just staring at him, you quickly avert your gaze, finding interest in your shoes instead. God, why were you getting so shy? Seeing the abashed expression on your face was like seeing a police officer get a parking ticket– so fucking out-of-character and just pure unnatural.

Jay wanted badly to make a jab at you, to say, “Hey, Jay Park just saved your sorry ass.” 

But he didn’t. 

Because that’s not what friendly neighborhood Spider-Mans do.

You bit your lip before glancing up at him. It was almost like you could feel his eyes questioning you from behind his mask, and once again, avert your gaze, pushing up your metal frames. 

It was now that Jay truly realized what was going on– Did you have a crush on Spider-Man?

You were acting really shy, and you were looking at him like he was some kind of god. 

The thought made him want to shrink into his own skin, but for some reason, it also made him grin. Grin a smug grin. Because now he had something to dangle over your head.

He didn’t have any sinister intentions other than the fact that he wanted an opportunity to be petty with you.

“Thank you, Spider-Man,” you finally blurted, that bashful look still casted on your face. 

Jesus Christ, the way you were acting soft-spoken and coy was so weird. 

He could do one of two things to fuck with you.

He could be extremely cold and distant, making you feel embarrassed. It would definitely be satisfying to see you panicked and flustered. But then again, Spider-Man’s job was to keep the city safe, not be mean to civilians. Even if said civilian was someone he couldn’t stand.

The second he could do was fluster you in a different kind of way: enthrall you with charm to mess with you. It was certainly a more ethical way to fuck with you, but Jay wasn’t sure if he’d be up for practically flirting with the person he hated more than anything else.

You shyly looked at him, expecting a response.

On second thought, he might be up for it.

He didn’t want to break you. Just fuck with that strong head of yours a little bit.

“Anything for you,” Jay took a step closer to you, just close enough that you would be taken aback, “Beautiful.”

Okay, maybe he should never do that again. Jay was not a lady-charmer. He had no game. There was a reason that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and it was because he could not flirt for shit. His skin was crawling with cringe– what he would do to have the ground open up and eat him whole because that shit was the worst thing he’s probably ever done.

His internal squirming was cut short when he saw the way your eyes widened a fraction, before letting a slight abashed curve settle on your lips. 

“Oh- I-” you lowered your head, your glasses laying on the very tip of your nose. 

“Thanks,” you stammered.

.

.

.

Now it was awkward.

What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No! What the fuck?

“I’m gonna go now,” Jay muttered. Extending his arm and aiming it at the top of the adjacent building, he prepared to shoot a web. However, he was stopped when you gently grabbed onto his bicep.

“Wait.” Your voice was uncharacteristically quiet, meek almost. “I-I don’t feel safe going home now.”

Jay blinked.

Jay Park never seemed to expect anything. 

For the second time ever, in the same week, he was carrying you across the sky to his own home.

This time, though, you were wide awake instead of black-out drunk.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you clung to him as he held onto your body tightly in the bridal-style. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be carrying a damsel in distress like this, but Jay never thought that he would be carrying you of all people. 

With you clinging so close to him, Jay could smell that sweet, citrusy scent again. He grimaced when he was once again reminded of the events that had transpired a few nights ago. Whenever he thought about it, Jay could almost feel his skin crawl, remembering the wet and sticky kisses placed on his skin.

Jay tried to ignore the way you stared at him so incredulously, wide and glinted as if he was some sort of idol.

As Jay approached the edge of the high-rise office building, he noticed you bracing yourself for the jump You’d been shutting your eyes tightly and letting out a little peep every time he’d jump across buildings.

Maybe he should try fucking with you right now.

Launching off his feet, Jay had propelled the two of you into the wide valley between office buildings. Usually, he’d shoot a web within a few milliseconds of just being the air. However, with you in his arms…

“S-Spider-Man…!” you squeezed his bicep. You were falling…! 

Jay was taking his sweet time with shooting another web, waiting for them to be just a few hundred meters from the bustling and traffic-filled road, giving you the illusion that you were about to topple to your death. 

“Spider-Man, we’re gonna–!”

When you were practically dangling over the cars, Jay shot a web up to the next building, hoisting you two up and away.

“What, you don’t trust me, Beautiful?” Jay got some sick satisfaction from shaking up the usually-controlled you. If he was Jay, he probably would have made a jab, say something like “I told you so,” but since he was Spider-Man he stuck to the flashy and charming persona that the hero built himself.

“I… I trust you, Spider-Man, just– Eep!” 

Jay threw his head back, laughing. It was funny when you got scared.

“Stop making fun of me, Spider-Man!” you lightly slapped his chest. “I’m just…– Eep!--”you squeezed his bicep again– “Scared of heights.”

Jay gave your waist a squeeze. “I got you, Angel.”

It was weird to pull up to his own apartment and pretend that it wasn’t his.

“This your place?”

Jay was curious as to what you would say. He dropped you off on the balcony, before going into his iconic crouching pose on the thin metal railing.

You shook your head. “It’s my… friend’s. I’m staying with him because….”

You trailed off, before your eyes fluttered over to Jay’s masked face. “Hey, didn’t you fight some villain the other day?”

Oh.

Right.

The reason that you were even staying with him was because… Well, him.

Jay nodded slowly.

“Oh- Well, um,” you wrung your fingers. “My apartment, it got… Yeah.”

It was like you could sense the uneasiness behind the mask. 

For the heinous amount of crime-fighting that Jay did, he did feel a little bad for the amount of infrastructure that got ruined. It seemed like every other week there were glass shards strewn all across the streets. He couldn’t imagine the type of work that would go into rebuilding homes and infrastructure after so much damage.

That, he will take responsibility for.

He lowered his head. “Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry about that.”

A civilian is a civilian.

“No, no, no!” you said rather brusquely, almost in a hostile way, waving your hands in front of yourself. 

Ah, there it was. The [Name] that he knew.

When you realized your tone of voice, you quickly back-tracked, clearing your throat and pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean- It’s okay, Spider-Man,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “You did what you had to do.”

If you knew his identity ,you wouldn't say that. You would probably file a lawsuit against him.

But he appreciated the sentiment.

“What’s your name, Pretty?” He needed you to formally introduce yourself so he could stop using those cheesy nicknames.

You smiled bashfully again. “[Name].”

“Then I’ll see you later,” Jay jumped to his feet, balancing on the metal railing. He looked over his shoulder, raising a hand up, “[Name].”

With that he began swinging away.

You blinked slowly, eyes trailing his slowly disappearing figure.

When he was out of your sight, your lips immediately broke out into a wide grin. Taking off your glasses, you used a hand to cover your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up and pull upward. 

Oh, you understood it now. Why everyone said Spider-Man was so charming.

Using both hands to cover your warm face, you let a few giggles out into your palms. 

God, Spider-Man was attractive.

Your momentary fluster was cut short when the screen door of the balcony slammed open.

“Are you gonna come in or….?”

You turned to look over your shoulder.

Jay Park. Always had to ruin everything, didn’t he?

You huffed, removing your hands from your face. “Yeah… Just, give me a second.”

“Okay.”

When you turned back, you failed to notice the smug grin plastered across Jay’s face.

You heard from many people that Jay Park had an issue with disappearing. You understood what they meant. In the classes that you shared with him (which was few because your majors were different but similar enough), he would be absent for a few days at a time. At parties, even if you didn't actively seek him out, you’d see him at the beginning and after a few minutes, he’d just completely vanish. Even at some get-togethers that your mutual friends hosted, you’d hear some people complain about Jay always needing to “go to his job.” 

Now that you, more or less, lived under the same roof as him, you understood to a whole other degree what people meant.

According to what his own friends said, Jay had a night internship, and according to his brother, he also had a day job. He didn’t show up to his classes some days, but you would see him in the morning before class alive and well, so he clearly wasn’t having health issues. How crazy was his schedule? You had friends in his major with jobs of their own, and they weren’t flaky in the way that Jay was.

Jay would be up early, completely disappear for the entire day, and come home late.

It was weird. 

Not that you cared.

You could care less what happened to him.

You just found it strange.

Like right now.

It was late at night. Finals were coming up soon, and you simply couldn’t sleep. 

See, Wonnie was normal. Wonnie had an ordinary, completely sane, schedule. In the morning, Jay would take him to school, and in the afternoon (you assumed that) Jay either picked him up or Wonnie walked home. Either way, the kid had a much more tangible daily schedule, yet his brother’s was the complete opposite. But it didn’t seem like Wonnie questioned anything either.

You saw Wonnie come in and out of rooms, heard him get a glass of milk, you even said good night to him. 

The yellow-white lights that illuminated the apartment were blinding now, wearing down your eyes to the point that they felt watery. There was a sort of morose feeling that set over you as you sat at the cold kitchen counter. From final exams to the fact that your apartment was under reconstruction to the fact that you were practically intruding on our greatest enemy’s home was frustrating.

It would be completely bitchy and ungrateful of you to not recognize the sort of generosity that Jay displayed toward you. You really, genuinely, truly, could not stand him. He was someone who constantly made your day worse, someone who you'd never been able to agree with for years, someone who went out of his way to bother you– and vice versa. It wasn’t like you had no idea why he’d try to help you: he might be a supervillain to you, but he was no monster. It was clear that you were on a “I-only-doing-this-because-it’s-courteous” basis, but even then, for him to give you his own bedroom was more than courteous.

You didn’t like it.

Of all people in the world, why did he have to be so… hospitable?

You didn’t like the fact that you felt so dependent and almost helpless. 

You must have sat at that kitchen counter for a good chunk of time, because the next time you really moved from your lethargic position was when there was a sudden bang against the window. Lost in thought, you violently jerked up, jumping to your feet.

Eyes quivering to the windows, which were blackened by the dark night sky, there was nothing there. 

Strange.

You had your tongue dig into the inside of your cheek, frozen in place. Just when you thought your mind was just playing games, another loud bang against the window resounded through the room, followed by a few jumbled curse words.

You weren’t exactly happy that the one time you would get robbed it would be in your enemy's house.

Shit.

Except, instead of a masked burglar comically dressed in black, someone completely unexpected bursted through the window.

Red and blue spandex suit, complete masked-over face, and that unmistakable spider icon.

“Spider-Man?!”

Oh.

My.

God.

Why was Spider-Man landing in Jay Park’s apartment at this time?

And when you looked down at what you were wearing– a thin tank-top and pajama shorts–you suddenly became a lot more alarmed and self-conscious than you initially were.

“[Name]?” Spider-Man gaped. Except instead of that friendly and playful tone he was known for, it sounded sour. “What are you doing up at this time?”

You, who was now very consciously covering yourself up, gawked. “I’m– I was studying– What are you doing here, Spider-Man?”

“What do you mean? This is my ho–” Spider-Man stopped himself, before clearing his throat. Like a switch had been flipped, the hero began again, “I’m, um, stopping by to see my friend.”

You blinked.

“Y’know, Jay Park– dark hair, lip-piercing, super handsome and cool.”

Your nose scrunched at the description.

“I didn’t know you lived with him, Beautiful,” Spider-Man continued. “You said you lived with a friend, right?”

You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I wouldn’t say friend. We’re like, acquaintances… by association.”

“You don’t sound like you like ‘em very much, yeah, Gorgeous?”

You weren’t about to lambaste Jay Park in front of Spider-man, who was apparently his friend. That would be discourteous, and you weren’t about to flame the guy that was letting you sleep in his house.

“He’s…” You didn’t want to make it seem like you were buddies, especially in front of Spider-Man. “He’s all right.”

Spider-Man was now inching toward you. “Just all right?”

You eyed the hero’s well-built figure as he came closer and closer to you, suddenly feeling shy and exposed. You felt even more shy and exposed when he very clearly lingered around the sight of your silhouette. The way his voice resounded throughout the room, slightly raspy from the yelling he must have done and low due to his exhaustion, sent a chill down your spine. 

“He’s okay,” you responded curtly. “How– How do you know him? How do you know Park?”

You could feel Spider-Man’s eyes on you even through his mask. 

“How do I know him?” Spider-Man crouched down next to your feet at the kitchen island, looking up at you. You could hear the grin in his voice. “He met me in senior year of high school.”

Oh wow. They’ve known each other for a while.

“A spider bit him, or something,” the masked hero continued. “And I found him all sick and sad when his uncle passed.”

That’s right. In senior year of high school, Jay’s uncle, the person who took on a father figure after his parents unfortunately passed. It had taken a toll on him at the time. You remembered passing him in the hallways, seeing the messy black hair overgrown over his brows and dark eye bags. The one person that you regularly debated in AP Macro was no longer interested. At the time, you had contemplated whether or not to reach out to him, but he’d completely shut everyone out.

“That’s great,” you murmured. No matter how much you didn’t like him, it didn’t mean that he should lose someone important to him. “That’s great that he had someone there for him. I remember–”

Spider-Man looked up at you.

“I remember– I tried to talk to him about it once, in… I think it was in Stats?” you recounted. Your lips pressed together before forming a slight curve. “He yelled at me.”

“He yelled at you?”

You almost laughed. “Yeah, he did. Oh man, we never got along in high school– even now– but… It’s not nice to lose someone you love, is it?”

Spider-Man stared at you silently, before quickly agreeing– “Yeah, it isn’t.”

You bit your lip as you recounted. “I wanted to comfort him, but I don’t think he wanted me of all people to do that. At least I tried.” Your eyes fluttered over to Spider-Man. “I’m glad he had someone like you to be there for him.”

Spider-Man didn’t speak.

“Are you and Park close?” you asked.

“Yeah, we are.”

You hummed. “Oh. Do you see each other a lot?”

“Everyday.”

.

.

.

Spider-Man got to his feet.

“[Name], do you want to go on an adventure with me?”

Sometimes you thought you were stupid. Not all the time because you knew you were smart, but some time like now, where you allowed a masked man who may or may have not broken into your enemy's apartment claiming to be his friend to take you around the city at night. And you did it without even telling anyone, so if you got killed in an alleyway no one would know.

Not to worry, though.

Jay Park thought he was pretty stupid, too.

Staying out late at night right before finals week and completely forgetting about the workaholic nerd freak that lived with him temporarily (you). And to make it worse, he mentioned his own civilian self!-- and he obviously couldn’t be in two places at once. 

He needed a way to deflect.

“Wooooh!” Jay hooted as he swung from building to building.

“Spider-Man– Slow down…!”

Unlike the last two times he’d taken you out on some sort of aerial excursion, you had your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his neck and torso, hugging him from the back instead of Jay holding you bridal-style. 

It was nice for a change. For the first time, you were hanging off his back instead of being directly held by him. Jay couldn’t help the snicker that he let out when you would squeeze him and squeal in his ear out of fear.

“I thought ya said you trusted me,” he beamed. Jay could feel the way your face pressed into his back as you dangled in the sky. “C’mon, Gorgeous, don’t get all scared on me now.”

“It’s not fair- Eep!”

“What’s not fair, hm?” He shot another web. You didn't respond, opting to squeeze him harder. “What’s not fair, [Name]?”

“This!” you chided in his ear. “You-You’re not scared because you do this every day!”

“Well, maybe you should do this more then.”

To Jay, it was really weird to carry a frightened you around. He never took you for the clingy type, but maybe there’s a lot he didn’t know about you. It was especially weird when he was Spider-Man, because you were oddly nice to him. When he’s Jay, there’s no denying that you’re hostile.

“Why are you so nervous?” Jay sneered when you two landed on top of the central clock tower. You’d sat down at the top, letting the cool late-Spring night hit you. For someone notorious for their crazy confidence, it was absurd to see such a person all feeble and fiddling with their fingers.

 “It’s just finals,” you mumbled.

Jay nearly laughed. “Wow, you really are a nerdo freak.”

Your cheeks visibly heated up, folding your arms over your chest. “Hey! I’m not a nerdo fre–” You stopped yourself, before you brought your eyes up to the hero. “Did he tell you that?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “W-What?”

“Park is the only person that calls me ‘nerdo freak,’” you frowned, raising up your fingers to make air-quotes. “He’s been calling me that since highschool.”

Oh.

Shit.

“Y-Yeah,” the man responded, sucking in a shallow breath. “He talks to me about you a lot.”

Not true. 

Jay Park doesn’t talk to Spider-Man about anything. 

Because they’re the same person.

You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip. “Really? What does he say about me?”

Oh, this would be awkward.

“Jay thinks you’re really… Uhm…”

There’s two things Jay could do. Tell you his (Jay’s) honest thoughts about you as Spider-Man and effectively make the entire atmosphere both now and at home awkward. Though, it wouldn’t be much of a loss because he (Jay) already made it loud and clear how he felt about you through his words and actions toward you. It would only be awkward because he as Spider-Man was the one expressing it.

The second thing he could do was lie.

“He thinks you’re hot as fuck.”

Oh my fucking god what was he doing.

“Oh… uh… Really?”

Jay wanted to kill himself.

Of all things he could have said, he said thats?– Oh my god, and now you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat– What does he do?

Jay Park was not attracted to you and he will never be! Never! Ever!

It was the first thing that came to his mind! He doesn’t mean it! Jay Park hates you! He thinks you’re ugly and- Well, actually, that’s not true. You’re a very pretty woman, he did indeed get crazy butterflies the night of the soccer mixer, and he did catch himself staring at you a few times, because let’s be honest, the tiny tank-top and pajama shorts looked good as fuck on you– but still-!

“Did he tell you that… or…?”

“Yeah, that’s a direct quote.”

Jay Park! What are you doing?

part 2 here

[togglesbloggle]

Voltaire's Prayer

“I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: Oh Lord, make my enemies ridiculous. And God granted it." -Volaire’s letter to Étienne Noël Damilaville, 16 May 1767

I’m inordinately fond of sex, in the political sense.  It’s saved us so often from the worst parts of ourselves.

As far as anti-authoritarian elements of the human experience go, sex is right up there with curiosity and the search for truth- maybe even more so.  When a new tyrant comes to town, shutting down the universities and the libraries is only the second thing they try.  The first thing is to regulate human sexuality to within an inch of its life.  Rules for marriage, rules for courtship, rules for which genitals may touch and where they may touch and when they may touch.  Rules for who and rules for whom.  Rules for which kinds of sex must doom characters in literature, rules for which things may be described as sexy, rules for which things may be described in a sexy way.

Of course they do!  If you’re trying to bind a large polity together under a common ideological narrative, to render people predictable enough to quash dissent and legible enough to exert power through them, the last thing you need is a bunch of folks running around being horny about stuff without permission.  Nature gifted us with a great capacity for reason and community; we have the innate opportunity to learn about ourselves and our neighbors, and to form complex societies based on that understanding.  It was Aristotle who first called us the political animal, and the fruits of that extraordinary capacity will always be within our reach, if only we can come together within a shared understanding.  The invention of the city is the great triumph of our species, and with it we conquer the universe.

But also this extraordinary, reasoning mind has been sculpted from the raw clay of a biology that’s anchored in sexual reproduction, and this ends up being very, very funny.

The problem isn’t so much that the sex instinct exists, per se.  It’s how it’s implemented.  Like most biological forms, the full complement of 86 billion(!) neurons in your brain aren’t encoded in a particular configuration; the brain is much too complex to be described so precisely in the only ~725 megabytes or so of human DNA.  The particular shape of your brain is in there somewhere- the lobes and subregions responsible for vision, memory, cognition, all that- but only up to a point.  The genius and fundamental limitation of genetics is that, below a certain level, the genes instead describe a process for the production and reproduction of specialized cells, and simply constructs them in such a way that they can be relied upon to order themselves as they go.

This is all well and good when we’re talking about kidneys and livers, but the fact that you can encode any kind of specific behavioral instinct in a brain this way is nothing short of a minor miracle.  Think about it!  Spiders don’t have a ‘spider web’ gene, the gene is for ‘proteins that come together in self-assembling electrochemically sensitive gelatin tissue which, when complete, encodes patterns that operate organ systems such as legs and spinnerets in such a way as to reliably create silk webs.’  This is absurdly impressive, and also completely insane.

What I’m getting at is, powerful behavioral instincts in a complex animal aren’t precise instruction manuals by which we pursue evolutionarily advantageous behaviors.  Sex and eros are prior to logic or language, let alone strategy.  Sex is a double-thick electrical wire discharging lightning bolts right through the middle of our cognitive centers, installed in the brain by a surgeon wearing mittens.  It’s an untethered firehose whipping chaotically through the cathedral, unpredictably spraying golden reliquaries with substances unmentionable.  It’s the first and greatest anarchist.

I really can’t overstate my gratitude for this.

Obviously this results in any number of deeply goofy outcomes by way of kinks and odd sexual practices- it gets tangled with pain centers, with random bits of anatomy and proprioception, with our taboos and aversions, with our greatest terrors or our greatest yearnings or just arbitrary stimuli from adolescence, and of course it gets enmeshed so often with our notions of power and submission.  It imbues these things with a fascination and potency out of all proportion with their mundane meanings.  And ultimately, you end up with human pleasures and human values that diverge so far from banal evolutionary imperatives as to be all but unrecognizable.

Even when this process somehow manages to propagate through the brain in such a way as to drive behaviors that are legibly aligned towards some adaptive constraint- e.g. heterosexual mating practices resulting in biological reproduction and careful childrearing- it’s still madness.  Love and sex penetrate deeply across tribal and national and racial boundaries, across economic interests, across battle-lines and enmities.  We become traitors, apostates, emigrants, and artists.  Declare a law, and in short order some hot-headed young people come along to break it in the name of sexual passions you could not possibly have seen coming.  Divide your neighborhood into us and them, and by the time the ink is dry on your proclamation there will be a forbidden relationship across the fence.  There is no social order, no ethical system, no theory of human nature that can entirely withstand contact with the full spectrum of human sexuality, because sex and eros are always going to be exactly as bonkers as the complexity of the human mind and culture will allow, plus a little extra just to be sure.

This isn’t always a delight, of course.  Many prohibitions exist for a very good reason, and the chaos of human sexuality makes no exemptions for true evil.  Some of us end up really, truly victims of this process.  But for all the dangers, the chaos at the root of all this isn’t oriented towards evil.  Chaos just means chaos, essentially arbitrary and hence absurd in character.

And in the grand analysis, we are so lucky to have this thing moving through our communities, this ridiculous madness that guarantees that there will be cracks in every wall and slips exploding cigars in the pockets of the powerful few.  Not in everybody as individuals, of course, and not everybody the same amount; asexuality is certainly one of the outcomes that all this mad gallivanting through our brains can produce.  Sexuality would never be so predictable as to guarantee its own existence, after all.  That’s part of what makes the joke so funny.

But all of us, regardless of sexuality, get to live in a world where the grand anarchy of sex is constantly driving home this lesson that no category is inviolate and no law is perfect.  That we should not and cannot take ourselves too seriously, or forget that we’re animals.  That we don’t exist only for the sake of others, or within their understanding.  That cities are made of cooperation, grace, and forbearance- not conformity or mere compliance.

People sometimes worry about immortality.  In the political sense, I mean.  They worry about eternal dictatorships and unconquerable gerontocracies.  This fear isn’t entirely unjustified; death has often played a role in progress and liberation.  But as long as enough of us are still getting horny without permission, still falling in love in stupid ways, I think we’ll be okay.  Romeo and Juliet don’t have to die at the end to make a difference in the world, as long as they’re brave enough to get weird with it.

[moondirti]

8. VICES

CHAPTER EIGHT OF ANIMALIC | MIGUEL O'HARA X F!READER

↼ chapter seven / chapter nine ⇀

summary: a shower, a training session, and a blowjob

explicit (18+) | 5.8k words warnings: enemies to lovers, training arcs, unhinged smut, dubious consent, it's rough guys, blowjobs, handjobs, miguel o'hara is a strict (asshole) mentor, throat-fucking, choking, mentions of infidelity, mentions of starvation, homelessness notes: well. hope y'all still respect me after reading this

The cell doesn’t last long. 

You don’t know what you expected; the terms of your deal weren’t exactly negotiated in full. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t been discussed at all. You’d assumed Miguel agreed based on his reticence – as you’ve come to anticipate from him, a non-answer always means you have a point he’d rather not appreciate. But he’d added little else after the figurative pouring of your soul, his back turning towards you instead, fixing his hands on his waist. And it had stayed that way, up until you were escorted back to the laser enclosure, still as much a prisoner as anybody else.

So, perhaps you were wrong. You convinced yourself that it was okay, that you didn’t have any hope for your own redemption. You weren’t his problem to deal with anymore, not since you agreed to go home. He probably couldn’t see the potential in you, anyway. A string of excuses drawn upon one common line – self-degradation. Tamping yet another pipe dream destined to leave you evermore downtrodden. And that was okay. 

That is, until you were roused from sleep by the scarlet spider much later. It’d been light, a rest on the verge of consciousness, contorted into the most compressed position possible to make use of limited space. In truth, you’d been thankful for it – to be granted a break from the fruitless struggle and, finally, some cue towards your fate. But he led you away from the anomaly imprisonment sector – opposite from the go-home machine you thought would be your adjudicator.

Now, you’re here.

“Was ordered to pull something together from a spare recovery room,” Reilly crosses his arms, giving an approving nod to nothing at all. “‘Course s’not the biggest – not meant to be used for extended periods of time, but I could manage if I were you.” 

You don’t let yourself harbour a reaction, not before he leaves you to your own devices.  

Because, well – it’s perfect.

There’s not much to compare it to, naturally. You’d grown accustomed to sharing a dormitory back at college, cramped in shoebox square footage with your roommate. Then, when your earth had gone to shit, there were no houses left to revel in. The past year since your miraculous escape have found you homeless, huddled under awnings or atop park benches, and by that point, discomfort had found a permanent friend in you. 

Yet–

White asymmetric panelling hems the studio, broken up only by a triangular window that peeks out onto Nueva York’s cityscape. On your right, the wall recesses in to form a bed nook, where fitted sheets hug a thick mattress, two feather pillows stacked at one end. Opposite it hovers a multi-purpose desk, niche’s carrying reusable utensils, bowls, a lamp and a small first-aid kit. 

And it’s all you could want. Gorgeous. Not conventionally so, no; it’s plain and lacklustre with an air of futuristic frigidness. But it’s clean, and comes equipped with an air conditioning system that puts you in control of the temperature you sleep in. It’s a stationary point for you to return to,  no matter the day’s drag – a place to call yours if not home. 

Not to mention, there’s a flat door towards the back, too plain to have caught your attention until you actively look for it. It has no handle, opened with a slight push that releases a latch, and swings outwards. Given the size of the corner, you’re forced to take a step back – which, a more ungrateful version of yourself would’ve marked as a con, but you’re too caught up in the novelty of what you’re led into.

A bathroom. A private, unrestricted bathroom – with a toilet and a sink and a fucking shower. You’re unable to repress the grin that stretches your cheeks, absolutely ecstatic with the – however temporary – development. No more sneaking into gyms to use their bath facilities, fortunes splurged on soap over dinner. You can wash yourself whenever you see fit, not have to feel guilty about deluding expensive memberships or your own hunger. 

(Small blessings; that still-pious part of you succumbs to the sign. You’re being rewarded. You’re on the right track.) 

Immediately, you schedule your night. A shower, first – partly for your excitement, majorly for the necessity. You doubt there are laundry machines nearby, if there’s any at all, so soaking your clothes in the sink should have to do the trick. You have no others, and to ask for more would be testing the grace you’ve been granted so far. Besides, the sheets look sterile – to lay in them bare can’t be the worst option.

Wiggling your fingers, you plug the drain to fill the basin. The garments you shuck off quickly settle there too, crumpled in a way that only exposes all their worn-down qualities. Jagged rips in your jeans, caked gore on your shirt. It’s instinct to turn away once the grime bleeds into the water, dying the once-clear pool with the unsavoury colour of your recent exploits. Harder, however, is trying to ignore the dried slick on your panties, bashfully tucking them underneath everything else. 

Engrossed by the chore, you’re almost taken by surprise by the flash of your reflection in the half-body mirror. It comes suddenly, a shape in your peripheral that looks like it’s in the wrong place. An apparition in a horror flick – darkened, wrapped in bandages and dirt and set with heavy eyes from days of unrest. Your heart rate spikes, stuttering rapidly even as you realise that it is, indeed, you. 

Or – you and Wraith. Both, existing simultaneously. 

Because it is the image you’ve become familiar with. The slope of your cheeks, the curve at your waist. It’s off putting seeing her again after some time; you don’t think you’ve spared a glance for more than half a second since the day of the gala, when you’d sat crouched in front of yourself, swiping gloss on puckered lips. But it’s those same lips that purse back at you now, unchanged. You recognise it all so quickly.

None of it resonates. 

An ugly bruise mars your temple, a yellowing one at your ribs. Your skin is littered with silver scars, or purple, depending on recency, like the two points at your neck where fangs have made their mark. Stark, white gauze circles each arm, one below your shoulder, the other above your wrist. And you’re… less, than you had been – evidence found around your cheekbones, or across your collar. Your flesh sinks into the hollow planes behind bone. When was the last time you’d eaten? 

Wraith. This haunted, cursed figure. 

You breathe through the discouragement. You tell yourself that it’s okay, the words quickly becoming a new mantra. You won’t go as far as to say it’s ambition – but the new sense of purpose that courses through you works to drown it out. You have something to work towards, no longer an aimless soul wandering uncharted realms. Whatever happened, whatever happens – all of it doesn’t matter now that you’re finally setting things straight. 

Your enthusiasm is enough to tide you over, at least, and when you step in the shower, the final dregs of hatred drip away.

White noise accompanies the cleanse. You’re suspended, surrounded by the pitter patter of water splattering down on the tiled floor. It’s overwhelming – the system has been pre-programmed to a common preference, but you find that it’s too cold for you, turning it up to one that singes your exposed form instead. Your lungs tighten, unaccustomed to the steam that quickly replaces oxygen. Hair plasters to your ears. It’s good, though, an appreciated racket. You look for soap and can  focus only on that, the buzz of guilt that constantly occupies you drowned out in favour for more menial tasks.

Of course, that really only leaves room for one train of thought.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Has he retired for the night, back to a warm home with a partner already drowsy, cushioned in their shared bed? He seems like a family man, the type to have a galley kitchen that breaks open to a dining room, four chairs tucked beneath glossy oak. One supplanted by a high chair, maybe, meant for a squealing babe; because he’s a dad, for sure. You’ve never known Miguel to be tender, but that’s towards you and your criminal disposition. There’s a sort of careful consideration he harbours – like stopping mid sentence, that moniker, Wraith, on his tongue, and opting for something less loathsome when you grimace. You imagine it honed in a gentler setting, fostered by children he adores. 

And his spouse– 

You squeeze a generous dollop of shampoo on your palm, working it into your scalp. 

What is his type, anyway? Dedicated individuals who prioritise discipline over all else? Certainly, he wouldn’t be married to another spider-person, not when their relationship jeopardises his mission’s motto. Someone homegrown, then, a childhood sweetheart who knew him before he became all that. Who continued to love every inch of him as sinew stretched to brawn, the civilian he once was falling out like a baby tooth, fangs spouting in its stead. Unconditionally, or something along the lines. 

You recognise the notion, how important it is for a hero like him. To be tasked with responsibilities beyond human ability, one has to become more. A martyr, a villain when need be. You don’t exactly blame his vendetta against you, but you’ve come to resent the man regardless. Doubtlessly, the sentiment is felt by others he’s put in their place.

So, someone who sees past all that. Miguel O’Hara, as he is behind the mask.

The provided bar of soap is small enough to wrap your hand around. You flip it a few times, lathering it until suds form. It’s unscented, so you imagine what it could be. Patchouli springs up, the most immediate smell in your memory. You have to squash it down, alongside the ache that gnaws your core.

Sulphur, pungent and sickening as it permeates your earth’s atmosphere. 

Ichor and its metallic aftermath, clinging to your tongue. 

The catalogue presented in the last year isn’t exactly pleasant. You push beyond it, settling on a vague cloud that accompanied your college roommate. Her lavender lotion, of which she bought in bulk. You’d smear it over your knuckles and knees prior to class, comforted by the balsamic undernotes. Light, fresh. Your peers would gravitate towards you, divinely feminine, resting their heads on your shoulder when lectures droned on for too long. 

(And you’re aware of how dead they all are, blown to ash because of you. 

You’ll ask for lavender products, perhaps, when you’re sent back.) 

Is it a prerequisite to being a hero – to be loved by someone from before, who sees you for who you are? You have no one, and you’re afraid of what it means for your salvation. The right thing, in your case, is eternal solitude. When it comes down to it, would you be able to accept that? 

Your gut sinks; the answer you come up with is selfish still. No. 

There’s a long way to go until that changes.

(Your skin prickles. The water sprays right through you.

You wait until you phase back in.)

With nothing left to do, you rinse off. You can feel the rot begin to grow on the sanctuary you’ve built, and with hope to return, you can’t have it destroyed just yet. 

Your room is cold when you exit, recycled air nipping your balmy skin. The towel – found folded under the sink for resident convenience – is shorter than you would like, barely enough to wrap around your bust. That is to say, it’s utterly useless at preserving heat. It occurs to you to stand in place and drip-dry, but going to bed damp is asking for a sickness that’ll knock you off course. 

You’re about to check the heater when you notice something strange, lumped by the entrance. 

For all intents and purposes, it looks like a trash bag. Slouched in a teardrop shape, tied off with an expert knot. The colouring is off though – not the plain charcoal you’d expect, but grungier, stroked with a varicoloured grain. It seems to shift, too, flicking between textures; red, yellow, grey with little inked words, as if cut straight from a newspaper. 

It’s so distinctive that you can discern who it’s from; a spider-person expressed in much the same manner. Hobie. 

It’d do well to approach it with hesitation. After all, you have no business with him. The most you’ve exchanged was a thanks, after he’d defended your plea the first time you’d been captured by the spider society. It seems so long ago now, but you recall the comfort his stance had provided, already scared out of your wits by the hoard of stylised people who claimed they were like you. He’d been the only one to see that. 

Sighing, you tear through the side, nails too soft to undo the top. The contents are remarkably plain. Leggings. T-shirts. Packs of underwear and a hairbrush. Long socks, meant for the boots he’d also thrown in. The only article that reflects his personal way of dress is a cardigan, patches haphazardly attached with yarn. In one slouchy pocket, a piece of parchment sticks out. 

(A housewarming gift. Figured you’d need it. 

– HB.)

And it doesn’t feel like charity, as opposed to Ben’s escorting you here. Rather, his genuinity registers through the scrawled handwriting; prompting a tired, thankful smile. 

You do need it. Not just the clothes, but the reminder that you’re not as alone as you might feel.

“You’re late.” 

His voice cracks the silence you’d been walking in up to this point, pitched with an irritation seemingly etched into his being. It takes you off guard – not for its husky quality, that which you’ve grown relatively accustomed to, nor his sudden appearance. No. It’s how he stands when he says it; brashly centre-stage, taking up half of the gym with presence alone. His eyebrow is quirked, lips pursed in an inquisitive line, and you have to cycle over the day’s happenings to land on the invariable conclusion that he, in fact, did not set a schedule for you to follow in the first place. 

“Wasn’t aware there was anything to be early to,” You hesitate, lingering at a bench near the doorway, keeping an eye on him as you lay your things down. The water bottle you’d pilfered from the cafeteria crinkles under your tense grip, condensation licking a frosty trail down your fingers. 

“Would I let you prance around HQ on your own?” 

“That’s being hopeful, but no.” Miguel makes no indication of where to stand, so you continue to amble awkwardly in his perimeter. “Just– A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“And were we given a heads up when The Spider showed up on Earth-15?” He pushes, maintaining the line of questioning that starts to itch at you. You shake your head, doing your best not to tip your chin downwards – with your hands wringing the fabric of your sweats, you already feel like a child, caught elbows deep in a figurative cookie jar. 

Tension plucks at the strings tethered to the both of you. He waits for you to come up with a retort, then sighs when you fail to.

“Part of being a hero is adjusting. Security isn’t in the books for them.” From the lesson, you hang on to his choice of language. Them. Not us. Again, you’re excluded, but it occurs to you that he seems to exclude himself too. “You didn’t expect me today. What were you going to do had that been the case?” 

To exercise sounds beyond stupid, even though your attire and location announce it as the truth. It felt the most logical place to start when you’d woken up this morning, but Miguel is verging on philosophical now, and that’s something you hadn’t planned on at all. You don’t tell him that, though, because it would be asking to be sent home.

“To strengthen my stamina.” 

“What for, exactly?” 

“If I’m going to go back to that wasteland of a world, then I need the power to tough it out.” You’re getting real sick of how incompetent he’s making you sound. “Transportation is entirely contingent on how far I can walk.” 

“Huh. That’s… dumb.” He says, arms crossing over his chest. They’re thick, built like tree trunks, with muscles bulging along their lengths instead of bark. How hypocritical, you think, repressing the shiver that crawls up your spine – it’s clear he works out himself. You’re only as dumb at the way he looks today; clad in those same grey sweats, a compression top sculpting every bit of him. Out of uniform –  like he’d been using the equipment before you got here. 

(Or, he’s dedicated the entire day to training you.) 

“If you have a better idea–”

“Think a few jumping jacks will make you a hero?” A smirk edges his lips.

Your stomach lurches – whether in anger or a more mortifying emotion, you don’t know. “Can you stop with the questions, big guy?” 

He cocks his head, countenance straightening to one more serious. It terrifies you a little, the carmine in his eye, how fast it glints, sharpened with a daring edge. “Okay, then.” Miguel’s stature slacks, an open invitation. “Show me what you’re made of.” 

You regret speaking up at all. 

“Like, on the treadmill, or…?” 

“Pin me down.” He adds, as if it’s the most normal command in the world. Granted, his mind is probably not as far gone as yours. “Three seconds, and you’ll have proved your point.” 

“That’s not–” Fair skids on your tongue. His potential reaction is simple to imagine (‘nothing is fair’), and it’s obnoxious at best. You’ve had your fill of the condescending jabs, wedged to a corner where you don’t belong, ineptitude assumed of you. If his intentions are to keep you there until you give up, then you won’t let them come to fruition.

He starts to shrug, but the dismissal is interrupted by your clumsy resolve. You collide into his abdomen, channelling all your energy into the impact, arms in an arch. It’s made to grapple him by the waist, leverage in overpowering him to the floor. The odds are stacked against you, though. Miguel – twice your size – anchors himself in half the time, hard as stone against the onslaught. And your stance isn’t wide enough, feet positioned in a way that robs you of the necessary stability.

Perhaps carelessly, you press on, pouring everything into your attempt. The sheer force behind your manoeuvre is palpable; you are a spider-person, after all, and your enhanced strength would be enough to put the average human to their grave. But your opponent is far from that – he’s the pinnacle of what you preach, the resistance he musters now an attestation to the fact. 

“Torpe.” 

Your ribs burn with exertion, body still recovering from the injuries you’ve accumulated as of late. In a fluid motion that belies his size, Miguel retaliates, seeing the futility in your struggle. His hands clamp down on your shoulders, warm and vaguely comforting for the second before he flips you off of him. You’re propelled backwards, his shove sending shockwaves through your frame. Your bones rattle when you smack against the wall. 

“That hurt,” You hiss, scrambling to a stand. 

“In case you didn’t know, grace is a prerequisite for this little spider-club.” He ribs, calling to your quip at the quarry. It would be enough to set you off on anyone else, but the humour isn’t lost on you. Not with him. 

“Did you just make a joke?” You start to pace circles around him, assessing the best angle of attack. His head turns to track you, forehead marked with lines from his lifted expression. “As I live and breathe. Miguel O’Hara made a fucking joke.”

“Symptom of imminent victory.” 

“Cocky bastard,” 

“You gonna keep talking?” 

“I recall asking you to stop the questions.” You run up behind him, hoping your footsteps are light enough to not call any attention to your advancement. It isn’t very successful – he catches on quick, pivoting to confront you head on. You’re ready for it though, ducking under his reach to slip to the other side. His back is open, the opportunity presenting itself, and you spring onto his broad back with little contemplation. 

Your arms instinctively wind around his neck, securing your hold, legs thrashing to follow suit. Transformed into a glorified backpack, you stubbornly cling onto him as he attempts to shake you off. 

“¡Qué mierda haces?”

With half your face buried in his hair, you don’t respond, focusing instead on using your weight to throw him off kilter. Or, you want to focus on it. 

But he smells like patchouli, the robust aroma laced in every lock. It’s potent, much more than usual; without the sweat that usually dilutes it, you’re hit full force with every idiosyncrasy. Damp soil, freshly turned earth – rich, like the verdant undergrowth of a forest. You’ve never noticed the touch of leather underlying his cologne, nor its nuanced spice. Now, they worm their way through your rationale, parasitic, eating away at tissue until they find a blooming incurve to settle in. 

Your gut; broiling in that specific way it does when he’s around. It sinks to your core, right where you’re pressed against him, stimulated by the frantic motions of his body. Miguel hooks onto your calves, prying them off, and it’s innocent enough to only make your sudden desire worse. 

“Get. Off." He emphasises, authority compounded into every syllable. His jerks steer you in various directions, spurring nausea that blends in with your desperation. The mix courses through your bloodstream, sickening and, along with your headlessness, allows the slightest weakness to seep into your stance – a crucial opening that he seizes without hesitation.

Your vision swims as you’re capsized, thrown off course and onto the unyielding embrace of the ground. Pain shoots down your spine, the oxygen knocked out of your lungs dissipating into air. It takes you longer than necessary to realise what had happened, gasping for breath until you land on the reality that he had just used your lust against you. But of course, he doesn’t know that. To him, you’d just faltered – a rookie mistake for the rookie you are. 

It’s harmless, then, when he straddles your chest upon impact, knees touching the ground on either side of your head. Pinned in place – a mounted butterfly, captured in the perennial moment of your shameful sin – you’re convinced you’ll die like this. Miguel’s crotch under your nose, rubbing your thighs together to rid yourself of the nagging pressure between them. Wanton for nothing, wanton for him.

And it’s not the first time, a bank of memories coming available at the familiar arrangement. When he’d finally detained you on 15, groyne cleaving your ass while he undid your restraints. That damned kiss, exploring the plush lips that currently curl with a complacent sneer. They’d been so soft, the impression of his fangs just barely grazing past. And how good those had felt, too; your arteries swollen, bloated with venom injected into your neck. Lethargic for hours afterward, unable to do anything to sate the response he’d triggered.

Now, you’re not as powerless. He’s on top of you, doused in some fragrance from heaven, blessed with a robustness you’re sure extends to every appendage. If he is married, how high would fucking him be on your list of transgressions? Surely, it can’t be your worst, though you hope you’re above it at this point. 

(But, if he wants this too–)

You look up at him, mouth parted. It isn’t a request so much as it is an assessment, tallying every suggestive hint he gives. There is none. Instead, he does much the same, catching your scrutiny before promptly looking away to calculate his options on an adjacent wall. 

(The logical part of you can already sense how dreadful this’ll turn out. You’re not thinking straight. 

You hope he succumbs to your debasement.) 

Your hips buck involuntarily, a rip release effect to your rising need. He takes it as a plea to get off; that which he defers to, dismounting your chest. 

No.

You stop him, left hand clamping down on his thigh. Slowly, he sits back, tipping his weight forward, onto the curve where your clavicle plunges to your throat. You can hardly move, diaphragm pinching in a bid for breath, and it’s okay for as long as he stays where he is. 

(Apollo, meet Dionysus.)

It’s gradual – deliberate – when your fingers meander on their trek to his waistband. You skim over his hips, pelvis protruding to border his V-line – which holds prominence, even under the layers of his sweats and boxers. Miguel does nothing; gives no shiver in encouragement, nor an order to stop. He just looks down on you, dissecting the fervour with which you touch him; a woman crazed. 

His shirt is stubborn in rolling up, elastic and tight against his form. You want to feel the way his flesh heats, defined abdomen rolling in eventual pleasure, but it’s a privilege you don’t have in this setting. You’re only able to pull it out from underneath his pants, allowing a sliver of skin to be exposed to your gluttonous gaze. Bronzed, gorgeously brown in contrast to the desaturated colours he’s chosen to don. Drool pools behind your tonsils.

The cords of his waistband unlace when you tug it with your pointer, hinged at the middle. Miguel makes a sound, the beginnings of a growl rolling up his throat. It’s to tease yourself, you want to say – because the fuzz of his happy trail leads down to a darkened bush, and the brief flash will forever be seared into your mind’s eye. Goodness fuck, if your yearning were any worse, that would have been enough to tip you over the edge. It’s been so long since you’ve wanted anything this bad. 

Pining wreaks a foreign mess on your systems. Toes curl within your boots. Lashes quiver with every ruminative blink. Your new panties are doubtlessly ruined, generic cotton soaked through with slick; you’d been so ashamed of it just last night, washing your previous pair in the sink. Now, all you can consider is how expertly he’d test you, calloused thumb running over your clit until he witnesses just how wet you can get. 

(Is it the length for which you’ve gone without this, deprived of your favourite vice? Before you’d discovered the stars, you’d pursued your most carnal desires, jumping from one hookup to the next. 

You didn’t suppose you'd missed it this much.) 

Maybe that’s why you go for him, out of anyone else. Because he’s immediate, the most prominent presence in your life. A convenient outlet, for all your bad blood. He doesn’t stop you, either, his pinky instead grazing your wrist, almost pushing for you to reach in.

If you do, things’ll change. When they had just settled. 

Your dynamic seemed okay to morph into what you needed it to be: mentor, and mentee. But this– 

This is so fucked. You would rather be anywhere else if not seated on his lap, and that’s a level of dysfunction you should be unsure about. Would he even let this progress? Beyond a one time thing, so that it doesn’t become a fixture you’ll always regret? 

(Does it matter?)

You dip into his boxers. 

(So, it is your lechery that negates your need for consideration. Call it thirst, or self-sabotage.)

Shit.

He’s thick, fucking pulsing on your palm, dry and heavy enough to cause considerable trouble when fishing him out. You’re at an adverse angle, twisting your arm to grip the base. Miguel’s hiss thins to a whispered curse, a muddle of Spanish and English that loses legibility as he shifts to help you. Hand swooping next to yours, he cups his balls, hoisting them out of the suffocating fabric. His cock follows suit, slapping his tummy upon release. 

It’s–

Angry. A blossoming shade of purple that grows more vibrant the lower you go, guided by two fat veins that branch along his frenulum. Huge, too – not the longest you’ve had in your mouth, but stocky enough for you to worry about it regardless. You run your nail up its length, doing the maths in your head. 

“Intimidated?” He says. It doesn’t register as proud as he probably intends for it to be, voice too  hoarse, broken by some unspoken lust. 

“Cocky bastard,” You murmur, holding your arm above you in the meantime. He takes a second to understand what your extended hand is for, bowed in a reverent-like appeal. And, even when he does, he pauses, gathering the saliva around his teeth. “Take that as a double entendre.”

He doesn’t laugh, spitting onto your palm, watching as you smear the natural lube around his mushroomed head. It melds with his pre-spend – that which pearls at the tip – forming a pearlescent marker for where your caress travels. Above the glans, rounding to coat down the body, and running out before you reach the root. 

It’s enough, though. Enough to provide momentum to your motions, jacking him off above your face. Up to this point, Miguel has eased his mass off of you, balanced on his haunches – but your ministrations have him losing that awareness, leaning further and further until he all but sits on your neck. His fingers latch onto your head, cradling your jaw in a similar fashion to how he treated your whiplash, each thumb at a cheekbone – waiting for the opportune moment to plunge into your mouth. 

It comes with the hypoxia, his choking straddle clotting the oxygen meant for your brain. What you can see – him mostly, meaty thighs and a lean torso, with a face that screws up with controlled precision – spots as secondary to black vision, your eyes bulging at the edges, struck with stationary blood. It’s opposite to smoke inhalation, that scratchy condition that only grew more uncomfortable the more you coughed. This is debilitating, the last dreg of stimulants you need to embrace your drunk efforts. You’re drowned in a pool where nothing matters except what’ll pull you out – life vest, a buoy, the hefty cock tapping your bottom lip. 

You unhinge your jaw the widest it can go, accounting for teeth and all. Hollow cheeks accommodate his size when he drives in, but your lips still stretch, aching at the corners where thin skin threatens to rip. Immediately, your tongue laps over the dense intrusion, mapping out the patches where he seems most sensitive. Below the head, along the ridge. Right between his veins, if you press down hard enough. Your usher more of it in, stuffing your gullet full of him. 

How does he manage to smell good here, too? Muskier, still, a heady ambrosia of masculinity.

His balls slap your chin, stopping you from swallowing any more. Miguel doesn’t take too favourably to that, however, bending your head to parallel his pelvis and pushing. Your neck aches, spinal plates prodding at where it inclines – the combination of that, the choking, and the swollen head that spears your tonsils makes for a deadly combination. You’ve been doing your damnedest not to gag, clenching your thumb in a fist, but the sound erupts from you regardless. A lewd, wet gluck – tears pool upon your lashes, caught by the thumbs still guiding your face. 

And Miguel groans.

“Mmmf–,”  His hips withdraw, giving you an instant’s respite, before snapping back forward. “Se siente tan bien.” 

“Hnmghh,” You attempt to reply. 

“Filthy fucking girl. So– mierda, always so goddamn stubborn,” He continues, accent curling with a raspy quality, smouldering at its core. “Never listens, never rests.”

You’re unsurprised to hear that what he really feels for you, exposed in this crude confessional, is just more indignation. 

(Does it matter? Does it really? 

He’s fucking your throat like cumming down it will reaffix the spiderverse.)

The gags drop rhythm, snowballing to become a chorus of the most salacious whines you can make, punched in tandem to his thrusts. Saliva coats your lips, bubbling when he withdraws, welcoming him back with the sight of you wrecked, glazed in salty liquids from multitudinous sources. 

You lose yourself to it, squeezing your eyes shut until he urges you to open them back up again, brushing the corner where your skin burns from crying. His brows are pinched, canyons of deliberation formed between them, regarding your debauched expression with something more than the base measures exchanged in the past half hour. 

He pulls out with a pop. You clasp around his dick’s circumference – rubbing over the tip, where his hole leaks a steady flow of prespend – and question him with a keen. You can’t exactly manage anything else.

“Where do you want it?” 

You frown, leading him back into your mouth. Where else?

It isn’t much longer until he carries out the promise. 

The sequence of events is more organised than anything else that’s happened today. You’ve come to recognise it, an expert in unravelling. He jostles your head back onto the floor, stabilising you for when his rear lifts, slanting his cock ninety degrees downward to ram straight into your mouth. You wince, incisors accidentally skimming the surface, which only prompts him deeper in. Your nose squishes onto the coarse hairs of his groyne, soaked with drool, and his balls tighten under your mandible, leaden in an indication of what’s to come. 

You want it, so bad you can hardly gulp in precious breath. Your pupils roll behind your lids. You want, you want.

And finally – for the first time, over the entirety of your relationship – Miguel O’Hara gives that to you. Readily.

He cums. Hard. In throbbing spurts that coat your oesophagus, your molars, the back of your tongue. It’s sweltering, viscous and thick enough to choke you again – you cough up the excess that doesn’t quite fit, sinuses screeching with the overexertion. You can’t gulp, not when he’s still buried in you, so you do your best not to suffocate as he rides through his orgasm. Rope after rope, until he releases you, excess drops splattering onto your nose.

Then, he tucks his softening dick back into his pants and moves off of you.

You swallow, left with a weeping cunt and a swift sobering up.

Miguel proffers a helping hand, meant to lift you off the floor. Swatting it away, you clamber onto your own, unsteady feet, collecting your abandoned things from the bench, and bolt out the door.

What the fuck did you just do?

chapter nine

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[rewrittenwrongs]

Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.

And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.

But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.

Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.

So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit insane like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.

Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.

[hobvitr]

can i req spiderwoman!reader whos kinda enemies/rivals with noir and they’ve been competing whos better at fighting villains and one day reader gets hurt too much and he takes care of her

spider-noir x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, kinda rivals to lovers (i don't know how to distinguish tropes damn) angst if you squint, reader gets hurt, self-depreciating joke, mentions of blood, i think that's it, unrevised writing

note: thank you for this request, he's the only man ever !! loved the idea, really. tried to not get carried away in the end (i became flustered while writing) recommended song: te amo - rihanna

being a vigilant is stressful enough, but you manage to make it fun by proving you're better at punching some asses than noir is.

everyone in the group found your relationship with noir the most entertaining thing to see. a spiderman and a spiderwoman competing to see who was better at catching villians wasn't the most common scenario someone imagine happening, and yet you two brought that to the teens lifes.

when you both met, noir wasn't the most talkative man on the presence (especially if peter b was present) but you managed to get him talk to you with your undying charm. that said charm was: your villain count. your count was higher than everyone else in the group, and that made you proud of yourself as a hero and as a woman.

"that is very close to mine" was his answer. your competitive side already starting to show with so little being said. "oh, how close?" you asked with a nudge on his arm. "two more than you." he looked down at you with his mask covering his face, but you could feel the shit eating grin he had.

alright. that was the moment you swore on your life you were going to beat this man's ass at that count. one more motive for you to do your heroic job, and it was a competition.

as you started to show your new count on beating villains, noir always came with a higher one. and that made you frustrated. on the other hand, he seemed to very much enjoy the game between you two as he was always winning, but he didn't cared as much as you did, he just found endearing making you feel competitive, felt like a instigator, and he liked it.

the day both numbers tied, you almost popped a champagne, thinking how funny it would be if you aimed and hit the bottle cap at peter's smug face (affectionately, but he doesn't have to know).

"alright, it's actually not funny when we have the same number" your cheering was slowly stopping when you realized "but i have an idea" noir raised an eyebrow underneath his mask "what is it?"

"we fight the same villain to see who wins" you suggested, shrugging your shoulders "if you win i'll kill m-"

"alright, let's not get that deep" noir cuts you mid sentence, at your not so healthy comment about the competition. you chuckle at his reaction "i'm kidding, I'll obviously win" a wink followed.

when the opportunity showed up for you two to fight together, you took as your win already. not one thing could go wrong... except it could.

as you swing between the wreckage, you took all your effort to not even let noir get close to the vulture. you wanted to handle this on your own and show that you're capable of more than him.

"i thought we agreeded to work together" noir was able to get closer to you enough for you to hear him. his voice broke all your concentration mid fight with the big ass bird, who hit you with full force by the position you were. you flew half of the place, falling so fast on top of some metal shelf that you weren't even able to stick your web somewhere to help your landing.

you feel the blood pooling on your mouth, 'that can wait' you thought to yourself, getting up almost instantly if it wasn't for the stinging pain on your ribcage.

"are you okay?" you swore you heard pure desperation in noir's voice, as he came to hold your arms and check you out for any visible wounds. "yeah, sure" you reply hurriedly, not letting him know you were feeling the most pain you experienced in your life. "I'll just.. beat him very quick I'll be right back" you pat his arm, so fast that when he registers you're already full of rage on the vulture, knocking him out and capturing him underneath a good amount of web.

"oh fuck" you hiss, pressing above the internal wound on your rib. your mask was stained with blood, your blood. noir was so fast to get to you when he noticed. "does it hurt when you breathe?" he asks, hands holding your face, making you concentrate only on him. you shake your head 'no', too weak to speak. "good, but i am taking care of you right now" he holds you bridal style.

"no way, we have to stay here until someone come take him" you try to argue with him, unsuccessfully because he was already taking you out the scene "that can wait" your eyebrows furrow, confused with him so worried. "it's not that bad..."

"it is for me" he finally stopped at what looked like the window of your apartment, you were too light headed to register. he managed to get you inside and you were laying on your bed. "can you sit?" was the first thing he asked, your vision was a little bit blurred but you tried to sit straight with his help.

"apparently yes but not really" you chuckle lightly, rubbing a hand down your face. "here, take these" he offered you some painkillers with a glass of water and you took it like a starving man. "may i..." he asks permission first to take off your mask, and you nod softly.

he lifts up your mask, extra careful with the scratches over your face, and takes it full so it don't get in his way to clean your cuts.

you suddenly feel shy at his touch, you found it cute he was taking care of you even after you were so reckless because of a little competition. he was quiet and so was you, too embarrassed to say something.

his fingers gently pressing the medicine wet cotton pad above all the cuts, you too flustered to make eye contact until you hear a low chuckle "i was so worried" he said almost like to himself, head lowered as he briefly stopped his movements, only to return when he was back looking at you.

"don't do that again, please" he pleaded, making your face go bright red, which was pretty visible with the bedside light on. "i won't" you breathed out. "may i...?" you hook a finger at the end of his mask, asking permission to take it off, which he replied with a low voice cracked "yes".

you took off the material, his face red just like yours, as he picked his glasses to put above his nose. "you're pretty" you manage to say, surprising even yourself, must be some side effects of the painkillers you took.. is what you think, but you couldn't deny his beauty either way.

"you're prettier" you don't feel the warmth of the cotton no more, you feel the warmth of his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. "is cuddling included in taking care of me?" you tease while smiling from the contact, and inciting a chuckle from him. "you want it to be?" he boldly teased back, making you hide your face under your hand.

"now that you clearly flirted back with me i may want it, yes" you reply with a light shrugg of your shoulders as if it was nothing, but your face showed the opposite.

he supports his weight on his arms, hands on the bed at each side of you, his face leveling with yours, few inches close "on it, doll".

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage March 2024 Issue ft. Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Main Cast Member Interviews (translations below)

Publication: February 8, 2024 (between episodes 47-48)

-Their six hearts are now united as one-

Sakai Taisei: Gira Husty/KuwagataOhger King of Shugoddam. In actuality, he's a being created by Dagded. He vows to his older brother Racules, who had been fighting to save their people, that he'll carry on his will as king.

Watanabe Aoto: Yanma Gast/TomboOhger King of N'kosopa. He was brainwashed by Hilbil, and was about to be consumed by the power that he possessed, but after being punched by Gira, he snaps out of it and they defeat Hilbil.

Murakami Erica: Hymeno Ran/KamakiriOhger Queen of Ishabana. While she was conflicted by the possibility of conquering death through the eternal life that Jeramie possessed, she was determined to use it to defeat Grodie.

Hirakawa Yuzuki: Rita Kaniska/PapillonOhger King of Gokkan and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. They trust Morphonia, their retainer who they've known since law school, and entrusts Gokkan to her as their potential successor.

Kaku So: Kaguragi Dybowski/HachiOhger Lord of Toufu. Wishing for the happiness of his younger sister Suzume, who is in love with Racules, he decides to remove her as a potential successor. Together with Rita, they seal away Minongan.

Ikeda Masashi: Jeramie Brasieri/Spider Kumonos King of the Bugnarak. He was born between a human and a Bugnarak, and wishes for both to coexist. He teaches his people, the Sanagim, how to live hand in hand with others. _

The Six Kingdom Unusual Incident Countermeasure Lifesaving Force, also known as: Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger. Centering around the kings of the six kingdoms of Chikyu - Gira, Yanma, Hymeno, Rita, Kaguragi, and Jeramie, it's an alliance formed so they can fight a common enemy, free of personal interests and across all borders.

The kings, who are the rulers of their counties, often took different actions after the formation of the Royal Sentai due to their pride, responsibility, and the mission and beliefs that they held in their hearts. Still, it's also true that a solid bond was formed through their battles.

The event that symbolized this was the second "Wrath of God" by the awakened Grodie. Making the most of their abilities and the power of their countries, the kings trusted each other, and skillfully worked together to bring the situation under control, achieving a miracle of zero casualties.

Even though they talk about it being for the benefit of their country or their own mission, the concern they have for their citizens is mutual. They may never get used to each other, but they don't hesitate to join forces when there's an emergency. This sense of distance and detachment is perhaps the greatest characteristic of the Royal Sentai.

The only remaining enemies are Kamejim, the last of the Uchu Five Jesters, and the Uchu King Dagded, who is responsible for everything. However, the Royal Sentai still don't have the means to defeat Dagded, who possesses unparalleled power. As the decisive battle between the Royal Sentai and Dagded approaches, let's see how it goes down until the final moment! _

-Gira's best scene!-

Murakami: My favorite scene is when he's eating a daikon radish in episode 4! (laughs).

Kaku: How nostalgic!

Murakami: I really liked it! Also, his "archaic smile" (episode 11).

Sakai: Ah! Towards the beginning!

Murakami: Yeah, the child of god Gira. The part with robo Gira was funny too. It's unforgettable.

Watanabe: I liked when he said "Woyal armz!" (episode 45).

Hirakawa: He said something like that (laughs).

Ikeda: That was cute.

Murakami: I liked that too (laughs).

Ikeda: His pill bug (pill taxi) outfit was also cute.

Sakai: I also liked the pill bug costume. And then, there was the confusing scene with Kaguragi towards the end……(episode 15).

Ikeda: The, "Laugh for me!" part. It's cool that you said it so seriously while looking like that.

Kaku: It was a passionate scene.

Ikeda: Jeramie was also watching that exchange nearby, so I remember that scene well. It was also funny to hear him say things like "Poopsopa" (episode 2).

Sakai: I wish I didn't say that.

Hirakawa: I think for me it's the trial scene in episode 5. Out of all the members, Rita was the only one who strongly judged Gira, and I remember Gira's reaction and the change in his facial expression when they told him the facts one by one during the trial. As the presiding judge, they're the only one looking directly at Gira's expressions.

Kaku: That seems to be the case now that you mention it!

Watanabe: As for cool scenes, I like the part in episode 17 when he dodges Yanma's fist. Taisei and I watched it back together 2 or 3 times and said, "Oh! This is it! This is it!" (laughs).

Sakai: Gira is often by someone's side. If it's a main episode for Yanma, he's by Yanma's side, and it's the same for the other. I think that main episodes with Gira being alone are probably the least common.

Kaku: That's true.

Sakai: Still, that's what I really like about them.

Kaku: I think for me, it's when he angrily armed himself with the royal armor in episode 29. When Jeramie betrayed them along with Gerojim.

All: Oh~!

Hirakawa: The part with Hilbil! He said, "That wasn't for you."

Kaku: Right.

Hirakawa: It was definitely cool when the beam of light shined from his eyes.

Kaku: Also, the scene where Gira's face turns into King-Ohger (episode 40).

Sakai: That might be my favorite.

All: (laughs).

Ikeda: Your facial expressions were good too (laughs).

Watanabe: The day after the broadcast, we called Taisei "King-Ohger" (laughs).

Sakai: I was the only one who truly became King-Ohger, so, it was an honor.

All: (burst out laughing).

Hirakawa: It's definitely special (laughs). Gira also has a good character song. I especially like the beginning.

Sakai: The English part. I think it matches Gira's worldview really well.

Ikeda: It's like a culmination.

Sakai: Right, Gira's a culmination.

Kaku: Eh? Shuu"taisei"? (*shuutaisei = culmination)

Ikeda: Yes, you got it (laughs).

Murakami: You're so quick at making puns like that……(laughs).

-Yanma's best scene!-

Kaku: My favorite was, (waving his hand) "Gi~ra~!"

All: "I've come to help you~!"

Murakami: The one where Gerojim impersonates him (episode 8).

Watanabe: That episode was my first time at Mt. Iwafune (a reoccuring location in the Super Sentai series), so I was really excited (laughs).

Hirakawa: Before filming, he looked at the mountain while brushing his teeth and kept saying things like, "Yikes" and "Amazing."

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: When the camera was pointing at him, he was all smiley and doing peace signs (laughs). In the Yanma, or rather, Aoto scenes, he seemed to be having alot of fun during the body swap episode (episode 28) (laughs). It was funny.

Watanabe: I'm glad you weren't angry at me.

Hirakawa: I wasn't angry (laughs).

Kaku: You kept rolling your eyes (laughs).

Sakai: Do you feel like your range of acting has expanded because of that?

Hirakawa: Yeah, it's expanded. Yanma played Rita in various ways, so when I returned to being Rita, I think my range of the role expanded abit.

Watanabe: I see.

Hirakawa: I don't think you do (laughs).

Murakami: For me, I think it's the "Guess I've become a privileged person." scene (episode 35). Up until that point, Yanma often stood his ground, so I like how he accepted the situation as he watched N'kosopa burn.

Watanabe: That scene was made to look like it was in the evening, but we filmed it first thing in the morning. Furthermore, it was the first scene to be filmed for that episode (laughs).

Hirakawa: That's rough (laughs).

Murakami: Amazing (laughs). He talked about having privileges before with Hymeno, so I was wondering if he found himself back there by chance.

Watanabe: Yeah, he talked about it in episode 7. For scenes in N'kosopa, the hacking battle was also hard……(episode 2).

Kaku: It was really cold, wasn't it?

Watanabe: I couldn't stop my body from shaking or my teeth from chattering. I'll never forget that. I was only calm during the actual performance.

Ikeda: You were extremely focused.

Kaku: I'd name that one as one of the best scenes.

Hirakawa: I'd agree. You worked hard and it paid off.

Ikeda: There were two scenes that I particularly liked with Yanma. One was the scene where he announced himself to his opponent, Daigorg (episode 17). The way he said it was totally different from how he usually said it, and it was very manly. The other was when he was being manipulated by Jeramie (episode 36).

Murakami: That one was funny (laughs).

Ikeda: The awkward dance performance was so good that I bursted out laughing (laughs).

Watanabe: I learned the choreography from Ikeda Sensei.

All: (laughs).

Watanabe: I was told to improvise that scene, but I have no knowledge when it comes to dancing. I asked Masashi for advice, and he taught me the Awa Odori dance of Tokushima, his hometown (laughs). He really helped me out at that time.

Sakai: For me, it's episode 44. In episode 17, Gira dodges Yanma's punch, but in this episode, it's reversed. As I played the role, I was moved, as I was reminded of those days.

Watanabe: And after that, when we beat Hilbil, it wasn't a parody, but I said the same line as in episode 2, being, "Know your place!"

Sakai: That's right!

Watanabe: That was real hot.

Ikeda: Gira and Yanma have quite a few scenes showing the passionate friendship between them, don't they? Truly, a great duo.

-Hymeno's best scene!-

Watanabe: I think I'd pick the body swap (episode 29).

Hirakawa: The way she said "Royal Arms!" was amazing.

Murakami: I'm sorry for doing something that Kaguragi wouldn't do (laughs).

Kaku: It's mutual (laughs).

Watanabe: Matchless Murakami

Hirakawa & Kaku: Matchless Murakami (laughs).

Kaku: I haven't been able to watch the footage yet (at the time of this interview), but it looks like episode 46 will also produce some great scenes.

Watanabe: Yeah, it's between Jeramie and Hymeno. They said some wise words.

Kaku: The movie was also very good.

Sakai: I also really like, "No one can do it but me," when she saves Racules (episode 42). I feel that she's full of confidence.

Kaku: That was really cool. It had a "Black Jack" feel to it. (*character from manga series of the same name)

Murakami: I feel that most of the memorable scenes for Hymeno are related to her family and life.

Kaku: Also, the rage filled fight against Jeramie (episode 14).

Ikeda: I was scared at that time (laughs).

Murakami: Sorry for being so strong (laughs).

Watanabe: In the episode before that, we were beaten up by Jeramie, but this time Jeramie was instantly defeated by Hymeno.

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: The power balance turned out to be amazing (laughs).

Sakai: There are quite alot of angry scenes.

Murakami: That's true.

Kaku: Especially when it comes to her family.

Murakami: Yeah, the word "you" comes out. I thought it was out of character for Hymeno, but that's what happens when it comes to family matters. (*informal "you" was used)

Sakai: When she got mad at Jeramie, Gira told her that it makes her face ugly.

Murakami: I remember the Director telling me at the time to "make an ugly face." (laughs).

Sakai: I feel kinda bad (laughs).

Hirakawa: For me, it'd have to be episode 30. It's the scene where she faces Grodie. As Rita, she stopped me when I was trying to use the secret technique, so I feel like there was a strong bond that formed between the two of us. It was filmed during the really hot season.

Murakami: It was really tough! I wasn't used to filming on location because we usually only film in the studio, so I was thinking, "I want to be freed from this heat!" (laughs).

Hirakawa: Well, we overcame the filming process by supporting each other. We gained alot from each other through the performance, and the relationship between Rita and Hymeno was established from episode 30, so it was very memorable. It's always touching no matter how many times I watch it.

Ikeda: The episode where Kamejim disguised himself as Hymeno was also good (episode 36).

All: Ah~!

Ikeda: The disguised Hymeno's performance as a villainess was amazing, and I think it showed the strength and beauty of the real Hymeno. I also loved how she said "Let's dance!" with so much energy (episode 34).

Hirakawa: You say that all the time (laughs).

Murakami: That's what Sakanashi Yume-san (KamakiriOhger's Suit Actor) says, so I get really excited when I say it (laughs).

Ikeda: Your pronunciation was also good.

Watanabe: I sometimes want to try and adlib in some English.

Ikeda: I get the impression that she uses English when she's agitated (laughs).

Murakami: That's what happens when I try to show her innocence (laughs).

-Rita's best scene!-

Kaku: For Rita……I guess we can't leave out the idol episode, huh? (episode 38).

Watanabe: Obviously.

Sakai: I think the idol episode is my favorite too. There's a scene where Gira fights with them over the Moffun picture book.

Hirakawa: That's right, that's right. The part with, "Moffun isn't needed anymore, right?!" We practiced that alot, didn't we? Things like, "I'll go this way."

Kaku: Oh~!

Hirakawa: We ran around alot.

Ikeda: I also liked when they changed into the royal armor with the idol costume. Girls must've loved that.

Sakai: It was like Sailor Moon.

Hirakawa: I spoke in a lower voice than usual. Rita was irritated.

Ikeda: Yeah, they were mad.

Hirakawa: Right, that's why it was very low.

Kaku: For upcoming episodes, there's another cool scene in episode 48.

Hirakawa: They say something to Yanma.

Sakai: It was cool.

Kaku: Also, Rita is silly when they eat something like dangos. They try to eat it from above their high collar (episode 5).

Murakami: Rita and food are a good match, huh?

Hirakawa: Eating scenes are pretty difficult. Ultimately, I couldn't even eat those dangos.

Kaku: Is that so?

Hirakawa: Originally, that scene was alot longer, as I was trying out different ways of eating it.

Ikeda: I also like the scene where they dive to grab Moffun.

Murakami: Ah! When they were tricked by Dagded! (episode 31).

Ikeda: Right, Hymeno was playing the role of the plushie.

Hirakawa: Rita shouts, "Moffun!" and lunges for it. My voice was added later during the dub.

Watanabe: Ah, "that one" is probably my best scene (laughs).

Hirakawa: Which? (laughs).

Murakami: He's laughing so hard (laughs).

Watanabe: The scene in episode 4 where Kaguragi calls Rita. It's the part where they walk very slow. Rita, in the beginning, every time they walked, they went super slow.

All: (laughs).

Murakami: It was the same for episode 5. They were reeeally slow (laughs).

Watanabe: I was like, "Can't you just walk normally?!"

All: (burst out laughing).

Hirakawa: You wouldn't stop complaining (laughs). He was saying things like, "Walk so I can hear you!" (laughs).

Watanabe: I want you all to watch it again (laughs).

Murakami: I think I really like the body swap episode (episode 28). If you look closely, you'll see that they're like a DJ (laughs).

Kaku: Yeah (laughs).

Murakami: Normally, Rita can't really break their character, right? That's why I really liked seeing Hirakawa Yuzuki when her screws were loosened. It was also funny to see them trying to get everyone in prison to go home.

Kaku: The "Yay!" part.

Hirakawa: The "careful on your way back" scene.

Murakami: Dialog like that wasn't written in the script.

Hirakawa: I was told to "Just do what fits" (laughs). I thought alot about what to do.

Watanabe: Also, they had such a happy face when they talked to Gira, who was in Jeramie's body.

Hirakawa: It's the part where they say, "We stomp him out and the problem will be solved." Rita never smiles, so I thought I'd show their teeth!

-Kaguragi's best scene!-

Murakami: I really like your interactions with Suzume. I especially like the scenes when Iroki appears from 17 years ago.

Kaku: Episode 37, right?

Murakami: Right. That episode depicted Kaguragi's determination and resolve, and the way he armed himself with the royal armor through the katana was cool.

Kaku: Well, I thought I had been forgiven for everything.

All: (laughs).

Ikeda: I want you to sell me that katana.

Sakai: I'd pick the scene with Iroki from that episode. The exchange with her while the castle was burning was really amazing.

Ikeda: When Suzume first appeared, his "siscon" behavior was uncanny but cute (episode 15).

Kaku: It's not Suzume (acting that way)? (laughs).

Ikeda: Right, it's Kaguragi (laughs).

Watanabe: For scenes with Suzume, I liked the look on his face during Racules and Suzume's wedding (episode 20).

Kaku: He was abit dazed and confused (laughs).

Watanabe: I really like Kaguragi's facial expressions. At some point, you mentioned that the way you smile is based on Ghibli films.

Kaku: Yeah, I think we talked about that.

Watanabe: I remember thinking, "I didn't know he had such an approach!" The scene in episode 39, where Kaguragi looks up at the night sky after defeating Goma made me think, "Ah, this has a Ghibli feel to it!"

All: Ah~!

Watanabe: The way he grinned was very Ghibli like (laughs). It's hard for me to explain it well though.

Ikeda: Does it feel alittle creepy?

Murakami: The smile didn't match the setting, so it's very memorable.

Watanabe: It comes off as creepy and cute at the same time.

Kaku: Cute? (laughs).

Ikeda: Also, there's that other best scene too. His sleeping face when he swaps bodies with Hymeno (episode 28).

Watanabe: The sleeping face of an angel.

Ikeda: An angel (laughs). The sigh that came from him……what else can I say?

Watanabe: An angel's breath.

All: (laughs).

Kaku: You're teasing me~ (laughs).

Murakami: Can you please stop making yourself cuter than the "real one"? (laughs).

Kaku: No, no, the "real one" is cuter than me, right?

Ikeda: (looking at Murakami) Your face is becoming bright red (laughs).

Murakami: Eh? You're kidding?!

Sakai: It's really red (laughs).

Hirakawa: I think it's episode 45 for me. Kaguragi and Rita didn't have that much of a relationship with each other. They didn't have that many scenes together in that episode either.

Kaku: That's true. It's because they're both together with Morphonia and Suzume.

Hirakawa: Right. I really enjoyed the scene where the two of them used the power of the King's Proof.

Kaku: I also became a red oni.

Murakami: That was amazing (laughs).

Hirakawa: That red oni was wild (laughs).

Ikeda: He was as red as Marie's face just now.

All: (burst out laughing).

Kaku: My bad~ (laughs).

Murakami: I seriously need you to cut it out (laughs).

Watanabe: The person in charge of being cute for King-Ohger is me though~

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: He went and said it (laughs).

Ikeda: You're putting yourself in a dangerous position right now.

Watanabe: These two guys here (Murakami and Kaku) are tough.

Kaku: Does that include me? (laughs).

-Jeramie's best scene!-

Sakai: There's alot for Jeramie.

Murakami: First, there's the battle with Desnarak (episode 26). I really liked that one.

Kaku: We made fun of it by imitating the "It's bright…" scene.

Hirakawa: It's funny when the person who actually fought says it (laughs).

Kaku: Still, that scene was good. While recording the dub, I actually cried.

Hirakawa: That's true, I could hear you sniffling next to me.

Ikeda: Immediately after the recording he said, "I can use this line when inviting someone out to a drinking party."

All: (laughs).

Watanabe: "You're coming too," right? (laughs).

Hirakawa: That's what he said (laughs).

Kaku: Yeah, that's right (laughs).

Hirakawa: I think for me, it's the scene where he declares the founding of his nation in the live broadcast to the people (episode 26).

Kaku: It was something about humans and Bugnarak joining hands.

Hirakawa: Right, "I want you to pass on the story that we were able to reconcile." That speech was really good.

Murakami: I think Jeramie's slightly mischievous and childlike nature is also a key point. It was the same when he was manipulating Yanma in episode 36, or the episode with Racules and the whoopie cushion (episode 19). I guess I like those mischievously funny scenes. There are alot of cool scenes though.

Kaku: It was really cool when the Spider Mask came off (episode 11).

Hirakawa: He flung off his cloak

Kaku: I used to imitate the line, "I'm just an old fashioned storyteller."

Ikeda: And you were good at it.

Kaku: That's when the Jeramie Brasieri competition started, hosted by me (laughs).

Ikeda: Oh yeah. "Is there anyone better than me?!" Isn't that what you usually said?

All: (laughs)

Kaku: That's right.

Sakai: I wonder what it was like stepping on Jeramie (episode 37).

Watanabe: We were trying to eat Grodie's rice balls in Toufu. Gira, Yanma and Hymeno trampled him.

Sakai: It was surprising to see that Gira would step on Jeramie, and I had to put alittle effort into it during filming (laughs).

Ikeda: Yanma was rubbing my butt (laughs).

Kaku: That was funny (laughs). I don't know why Jeramie was being stepped on, since the episode didn't depict that part.

Sakai: I wonder if Jeramie was desperately trying to stop Gira and the others. He gets pushed too hard, and then that happens.

Hirakawa: He gets crushed by three people.

Murakami: Sorry about that time.

Ikeda: Hymeno was the nicest.

Watanabe: It's episode 29 for me. After Jeramie finishes giving his fake speech, Jeramie's song (The Prophet) plays when the five fight.

Hirakawa: It was good!

Watanabe: Jeramie wasn't there, but it felt like the six of them were fighting.

Ikeda: In that scene, you could see the relationship between the five of them from their expressions.

Murakami: It was also sad and beautiful when he said, "Sweet dreams" and then disappeared.

Sakai: It was great (applauding).

Ikeda: Thank you.

[exhausted-archivist]

All Lore from the Dragon Age: Official Cookbook: Taste of Thedas

This is going to be a long post with all the lore from the cookbook collected in one post. This is only going to be counting the lore in the "blurbs" so to speak as the actual recipes themselves, which are not meant to be set in-world.

Additionally, it should be noted that I am unable to say one way or the other if the props used in the photos or the etching art shown on some recipes are to be taken as reflecting the canon the cookbook narrator is in. For the sake of completeness, I have included the less conclusive elements.

Shoving everything below the cut for length as well as to help people avoid spoilers. Think I got everything... There is a lot in this book honestly.

Cookbook Lore

World State

Cassandra is Divine.

The Hero of Ferelden is a Cousland Warden.

The Warden gave Leliana Schmooples.

Hawke is a non-mage, as Varric knows Bethany.

Hawke is diplomatic in personality.

Bull's Chargers, Krem, and Bull are all alive.

Cullen stayed off lyrium.

Celene is empress; Briala and Gaspard are still alive.

Alistair is king.

Varric is viscount.

Uncertain aspects of the world state:

The suggested lore based on the art, props used in photos, and vague wording in blurbs. These are not for certain this is the canon.

Briala is described as a spymaster and lover, implying she was possibly reunited with Celene.

Celene, Briala, and Gaspard are possibly working together in the truce. But the wording is vague it could simply be Celene ruling alone while Briala and Gaspard live.

Cole was encouraged to be more human and is traveling with Maryden Halewell.

Cullen got his mabari.

Josephine was romanced by the Inquisitor.

Morrigan has Keiran.

The Hero of Ferelden romanced King Alistair.

Food Lore

Lentils and onions are common ingredients to find in pantries across Thedas.

Ferelden has reliable access to tomatoes that allows them to use them regularly in their food.

Fereldans are known for their love of soups, stews, pickled eggs, and turnips that it is regularly joked about and seen as a stereotype. Devon regularly comments on the known expectations.

Turnip and Mutton Pie is a classic Fereldan dish served in taverns across the nation.

Nevarra food culture holds that food is suppose to be a feast for the eyes and mouth. Leading to their plating to be dazzling and seen as works of art.

The Jade Ham, is a smoked Anderfels ham with a particular glaze made from wildflowers and turns the ham as hard as jade.

The Anderfels are hostile and often considered inhospitible in certain areas. But despite the harsh environment, pigs farm well there and as a result are much larger than elsewhere in Thedas.

There are custard connoisseurs across Thedas.

Lichen ale is toxic, though most dwarves are able to handle it. However, non-dwarves can only tolerate a few sips of the drink.

Isabela has a drinking game based on how many enemies you have, it has killed at least one person.

The Rivaini tea blend is said to have healing properties such as helping alleviate headaches.

Dwarves underground raise giant spiders like people on the surface raise cattle and goats.

Orzammar has a contest where one is crowned as Orzammar's Best Sauce, the competition is so fierce people get underhanded in their attempts to acquire recipes. This has led to eateries, and in general people of Orzammar, to guard their recipes from others.

Orzammar also farms various mushrooms for eating.

Rice is commonly found in Antiva and Rivain, however it is not a large export for Antiva so it is a rare grain for folks in Ferelden. Due to it not being exported, rice is a cheap food item in Antiva and is very common in the more mundane foods of commoners.

Wyvern, like phoenix, can become deadly poisonous if eaten when they aren't prepared properly.

A jam maker lives in Orzammar, importing individual ingredients so they can make the jam themselves and hopefully sell it cheaper than imported jam.

Fauna

Mentioned through out the cookbook, not necessarily as ingredients themselves but sources for other food items.

Ayesleigh gulabi goat - Rivain

Cattle

Cave Beetles - Underground

Chicken

Crab

Cuttlefish

Dracolisk

Giant

Giant Spider

Goat

Gurgut

Halla

Lamprey

Lurker

Mackerel

Mussel

Nug

Pig

Prawn

Quillback

Sheep

Shrimp

Snail

Turkey

Wyvern

Additional Lore

The golden nug statues do exist in Thedas, Devon mentions seeing one in Haven and hearing rumors of there being more.

Fereldans who worked for the Inquisition would leave Commander Cullen pickled eggs on his desk while he was going through the worst of his lyrium withdrawal symptoms.

Spring time is gurgut mating season, and travelers are advised to keep their distance.

Starkhaven is oval in shape, shaped by rings of tall, grey stone walls, is filled with lavish estates, fountains, and sits on the Minanter River.

Makes reference to the ambient events of where Cole dumped a bushel of turnips onto a fire.

Food: Dishes, Ingredients, and More

Foods/Dishes

These are mentioned, referenced, and/or introduced in the cookbook description of the food, these aren't including the ingredients or foods mentioned in the recipes.

If the item is marked with **, it means there are multiple cultures with the same dish but the cookbook is offering specifically that as the reference point.

Apple Grenade - Antiva

Bark Bread - suggested alternative to black lichen

Biscuit

Biscuit, sweets

Black Lichen Bread - Orzammar

Blancmange - a white pudding dish from Orlais

Blood Orange Salad - Nevarra

Boiled Turnip

Bun

Bun, sweet - a pastry served as dessert

Cabbage Soup - Ferelden

Cacio e Pepe

Cherry Sauce

Cherry Cupcakes - Tevinter

Chocolate Cake

Chocolate Cream

Cinnamon Rolls

Couscous Salad - Rivain

Crab Cakes - Kirkwall

Croissant - Orlais

Crow Feed - Antiva

Custard

Dark Bread

Eggs à la Val Foret - Orlais

Fish Chowder - Antiva

Fish Wraps/Fish Pockets - Seheron

Flat Bread - Nevarra

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding - Ferelden

Forest Fruit Cobbler - Dalish

Found Cake - Ferelden

Fried Crab Legs - a substitute version of fried young giant spiders

Fried Young Giant Spiders - Orzammar

Gnocchi - Antiva

Goat Custard - Rivain **

Grilled Poussin - Chasind

Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce - Avvar

Hearth Cakes - Dalish

Hearty Scones - Ferelden

Honey Carrots - Orlais **

Jade Ham - More suited for a weapon, stated to not be suited for eating.

Lamprey Cake - not made of real lamprey, just a cake modeled after it.

Lentil Soup - City Elf **

Llomerryn Red - Rivain

Mashed Turnip

Merrill's Blood Soup - Dalish

Mushroom Sauce

Nettle Soup - origins unclear

Nug Bacon and Egg Pie - Ferelden

Paella - Antiva

Pastry Pockets - recipe originates with the Grey Wardens, cookbook provides the Orlesian Grey Warden variation **

Peasant Bread - Orlais

Pickled Eggs - Ferelden

Pickled Lamprey - Free Marches

Poached Egg

Poison Stings - Chocolate-coated orange peels from Tevinter

Potato and Leek Soup - Ferelden

Pumpkin Bread - Tevinter

Red Grape Compote

Rice Pudding - Tevinter

Roasted Fig

Roasted Cave Beetles - Orzammar

Roasted Prawns - a substitute prawns for cave beetles

Roasted Turnip

Roll, pastry

Snail and Watercress Salad - Avvar

Sour Cherries in Cream - Orlais

Spiced Jerky - Dalish

Steamed Turnip

Stir-fried Turnip

Strawberry and Rhubarb Cobbler - Ferelden

Stuffed Cabbage - Ferelden

Stuffed Deep Mushrooms - Orzammar

Stuffed Vine Leaves - Tevinter

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup - Ferelden

Toasted Almonds

Traviso Energy Balls - Antiva

Tzatziki - Tevinter

Turnip and Mutton Pie - Ferelden

Unidentified Meat - a common tavern food in Tevinter

Yogurt Dip - Nevarra

Drinks

Chasind Sack Mead

Chasind Wildwine

The Emerald Valley

The Golden Nug

The Hissing Drake

Hot Chocolate

Lichen Ale

Pomegranate Juice

Rivaini Tea Blend

West Hill Brandy

White Seleney wine

Ingredients

These are only listed in the lore entries and not the actual recipes themselves as whether or not they are canon is questionable as the recipes recommend store bought items as well as ingredients that have unique Thedosian counterpart names.

Almond

Antivan Pasta

Apple

Apricot

Bacon

Bacon, Nug

Bark

Barley

Beef

Beetroot

Bell Pepper, red

Bitter Greens - this is a class of salad greens known for their bitter flavor.

Black Lichen - Underground

Blood Orange - Nevarra

Butter

Butter, Halla

Cabbage

Cave Beetles

Celery

Cinammon

Cheese

Cherry

Cherry, black

Cherry, sweet

Chicken

Chickpea - Rivain

Chocolate

Cocoa Powder

Corn, yellow

Corn, checkered

Couscous - Rivain

Crab

Cranberry

Currant

Deep Mushroom, various varieties

Dracolisk - The narrator suggests it being a potential meat in a recipe in Tevinter.

Dried Fruit

Eggs

Fig

Flour, semolina - Rivain

Giant - Suggested that Tevinter might serve giant

Giant Spiders - Underground

Goat

Grape, red

Grape Leaves/Vine Leaves

Grease

Guimauves - Orlesian

Gurgut - Avvar

Heavy Cream

Honey

Jasmine

Mackerel

Mango

Mint

Mussel

Mutton

Lamb

Lamprey

Leek

Lemon

Lemon Juice

Lemon Verbena

Lentil

Lichen

Licorice Root

Lurker - Avvar

Oat

Oil

Onion

Oregano

Pastry Dough

Peanut

Peanut Butter

Peppers, Hot

Peppermint

Plum

Pork

Potato

Prawn - said to have the same texture and flavor as cave beetles.

Puff Pastry - Orlais

Pumpkin

Quillback

Raisin

Raspberry

Rhubarb

Rice - Antiva and Rivain

Salt

Semolina Flour - Rivain

Shrimp

Snail - Avvar

Spinach

Strawberry

Sugar

Tomato

Turkey

Turnip

Watercress - Avvar

Wheat

Whipped Cream

White Chocolate

Wildflowers

Wyvern - Avvar, Orlais

Charts and Stats

Because I love a good visual rep of data, I collected some stats of the types of food, how many recipes are from where, and the amount of time a character was mentioned.

Types of Food

I did percentages for the course of food as well as the portion of options that are vegetarian, vegan, dairy-free, meat based, and alcoholic.

Food Types Stats

These charts show the ingredient percentage in the actual recipes and not the lore blurbs themselves. This is out of 72 recipes with the amount they were used in (-) after their percentage.

Left Hand Chart

Alcohol: 14.6% (27)

Dairy-free: 15.7% (29)

Egg-free: 25.4% (47)

Meat based: 16.2% (30)

Nuts: 3.1% (6)

Shellfish: 2.6% (5)

Vegan: 4.2% (8)

Vegetarian: 20.4% (39)

Top Right Chart

Alcohol: 37.5% (27)

Alcohol-free: 62.5% (45)

Bottom Right Chart

Beef: 11.4% (4)

Chicken: 17.1% (6)

Fish: 17.1% (6)

Lamb: 5.7% (2)

Pork: 28.6% (10)

Shellfish: 14.3% (5)

Turkey: 5.7% (2)

Percentage of Recipe Origins

Anderfels: 1.4%

Antiva: 11%

Avvar: 6.8%

Chasind: 2.7%

City Elves: 2.7%

Dalish: 6.8%

Ferelden: 15.1%

Free Marches: 5.5% Kirkwall: 2.7% Starkhaven: 2.7%

Grey Wardens: 1.4%

Nevarra: 2.7%

Orlais: 13.7%

Orzammar: 9.6%

Rivain: 4.1%

Seheron: 1.4%

Tevinter: 9.6%

Character Mentions

I organized the chart by game and the characters in alphabetical order.

DAO Alistair: 2 Dog: 2 Hero of Ferelden (Cousland): 6 Leliana: 1 Loghain: 1 Morrigan: 1 Sten: 1 Zevran Arainai: 2

DA2 Anders: 2 Bethany: 1 Fenris: 3 Hawke: 1 Isabela: 1 Merrill: 2 Sebastian Vael: 1 Varric: 3

DAI Briala: 1 Bull's Chargers: 2 Cassandra: 2 Celene Valmont: 1 Cole: 2 Cullen: 3 Dorian: 2 Friends of Red Jenny: 1 Gaspard: 1 Josephine: 3 Krem: 2 Sera: 1 Solas: 4 The Iron Bull: 4 Vivienne: 2

Food Courses

I thought it would be interesting to see how the recipe groups totaled out in how much of the book they made.

Drinks: 12.5%

Baked Goods: 13.9%

Sweets: 11.1%

Sides: 5.6%

Starters and Refreshments: 12.5%

Travel Food: 13.9%

Soup and Stew: 11.1%

Main Course: 19.4%

Wanna support this blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! It's me Again! Firstly, I want to say thank you so much and I really enjoy/love it!

If it's okay to request could you do another part of this request (Elita One's twin sister w/ Sg Blackarachnia)?

The reactions/interactions of other Cons, Shockwave, Lockdown, Swindle (you can change/add Wasp or other cons, if you like);

Or reactions/interactions of Autobots (team Prime)?

(Takes place after reuniting with Optimus Prime, Autobots meeting Bot and their reactions/interactions to her)

also if it's okay to make a one of them as a separate request?

(Sorry if it's too much/complicated. Also take your time and thank you so much!)

She is back!!! Our Spider is back!!

I will be posting the second part to this request later on.

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister with SG! Blackarachnia's personality reaction to Shockwave, Lockdown, Swindle, and Wasp

SFW, Platonic, Hint of Romantic, Slight Angst, Cybertronian (techno organic) reader

TFA

As Megatron’s personal and only medic in the Decepticon army, Buddy sometimes had to travel where he went. From across the mountains to someone on the opposite end of the screen. That was how she got to know many mechs in the army.

“We are going out.”--Megatron

“We?”--Buddy

“You and I.”--Megatron

“Me? Sorry, not today My Lord. I have to work on the med bay.”--Buddy

“What needs to be done in the med bay?”--Megatron

“Not going to tell you because then you’re just going to get someone else to do it. And no one here can organize my stuff the right way. I was trying to fix Blitzwing’s servo, my tool kit was nowhere to be found. For about half an hour I was searching for it, and it was under your throne. Who puts stuff there?”—Buddy

“You have been stuck here for the last couple of cycles. I do think it is wise for you to get out and stretch your struts.”--Megatron

“You would love to see that wouldn’t you?”--Starscream

“Starscream!”--Megatron

“Wait what did he say?”--Buddy

“Nothing! We are going!”--Megatron

Megatron grabbing Buddy’s servo and leaving without a word.

When Buddy met Shockwave, it was through the main screen in the Decepticon HQ on Earth.

Shockwave had all her information from her Academy records. To say he was skeptical of Buddy’s position on the team was an understatement.

It wouldn’t be the first time the Decepticons would have a former Autobot change sides. No doubt Buddy would be the last one to do so either.

In this case, however, it nearly seemed too good to be true.

Shockwave going through going through Buddy’s file before the video meeting.

“Let’s see here… death certificates with no body found… former student at the Autobot Academy…several medical certifications, impressive… Special powers? Strange... Excellent marksmanship… Former protégé of some field tech, boring… Most likely to follow the Prime status? Unexpected but nothing more…what… had connections with Ultra Magnus?!”--Shockwave

It truly seemed too good to be true, but he kept quiet about his skepticism to himself. His first step was to get close to Buddy and try and get some information on them. Maybe find out if she is a mole or any potential blackmail material.

Shockwave was expecting someone sketchy trying to fill in the stereotypical Decepticon role or an Autobot with a poor, and or, offensive Con skit memorized.

Not someone who had their own unique style that would be associated with Decepticonism and who deeply cared for their comrades.

“Shockwave.”--Megatron

“Lord Megatron.”--Shockwave

“This is our newest chief medical officer on Earth, Buddy.”--Megatron

“Hello Shockwave, it is a pleasure to meet you.”--Buddy

“Erm—thank you Buddy, is it? Such a peculiar name.”--Shockwave

“Yes, it isn’t a common name or one that sparks any fear into the sparks of the enemy but, that is who I am. How has your day been?”--Buddy

“My what?”--Shockwave

“Oh, sorry was that not an appropriate question to ask?”--Buddy

“I—it has been a good day as of now.”--Shockwave

“That’s good to hear. We can’t have one of the Decepticon’s top spy’s in a rough shape can we?”--Buddy

“Top spy?”--Shockwave

“Yes! I have read a little bit about your work through the reports.”--Buddy

“You’ve read my reports?”--Shockwave

“You’ve read some of the reports?”--Megatron

“Of course! They are interesting to read. And it also doesn’t help when you leave some of the data pads out in the open My Lord. Especially around my work area.”--Buddy

“Don’t you have to go and reorganize the medbay’s newest supplies?”--Megatron

“Oh yes! Good-bye Shockwave! I do hope to get to know you better and that your work is truly—”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Megatron

“All right, all right I’m going. Bye!”--Buddy

Buddy walks out of the room.

“… She seems like a nice addition to the medical wing.”--Shockwave

“Yes…”--Megatron

“… I am not looking for a relationship now, My Megatron. Anyways Buddy is not my type.”--Shockwave

“…”--Megatron

Shockwave was left a bit confused after that interaction with Buddy. It only got worse once Buddy had willing gone to the screen to contact him.

“Hello Shockwave!”--Buddy

“Hello Buddy. Has something happened? This call was unscheduled.”--Shockwave

“I know but I wanted to talk to you.”--Buddy

“About what pray tell?”--Shockwave

“Anything.”--Buddy

“I’m not sure I am following…”--Shockwave

“Last call you seemed… well you seemed a little bit lonely. It cannot be easy keeping up the façade of being Longarm Prime all day, especially in front of the council, Ultra Magnus, and the entire Elite Guard.”--Buddy

“…It is not. But there are certain bots here that are a bit dimmer than the average bot. It makes things easier. One of the Prime’s has the IQ of a bag of rusty bolts.”--Shockwave

“Is that so? Ouch! Do tell more.”--Buddy

“I believe one of the Autobots are on to me.”--Shockwave

“Are you sure? Do you need back up or something?”—Buddy

“No, not at the moment.”--Shockwave

“Good, you can never be too safe.”--Buddy

“Yes…”--Shockwave

Shockwave was in denial of the friendship that was forming through those calls. He didn’t need friends talking to his audial all day long!

It’s not like he looked forward to having those talks with Buddy.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

It’s not like the two of them have swapped personal com lines to further talk about personal things and away from the prying optics of other Cons that entered the room.

It isn’t until one late night he realizes how deep he is in.

Longarm listening to yet another boring presentation with the other Primes, trying not to stab Sentinel’s big chin with a pen. His mind slowly wondering what Buddy is going to talk about this time when he tells them about Sentinel’s big chin.

He freezes.

Oh.

Oh no…

He has a friend.

He has a good friend now.

How does one keep a good friendship like this from falling into pieces in the face of a war?!

A little while later Shockwave starts searching up ‘Ways to keep good friend’ on Bing.

Blurr opening the door, giving Shockwave just enough time to go back into Longarm form.

“I know there is a spy here Longarm! I can feel it—what are you looking up?”--Blurr

“Umm… engex bottles.”--Longarm

“…”--Blurr

“…”—Longarm

“Oh really! What years are you looking at? I personally think—”—Blurr

Longarm/Shockwave sagging in a bit of relief from the scare.

Swindle and Lockdown met Buddy at a weapons meet.

Megatron had invited Buddy to meet his arms dealer and favorite mercenary, Swindle and Lockdown. Buddy didn’t get much information on the two, being that they were on the borderline sections of potentially ‘sell outs.’

“Lord Megatron, is there any more things I need to know about these two mechs?”--Buddy

“Lockdown will not speak out of line. He is more interested in getting the latest gadgets for his collections.”--Megatron

“Mod collector, got it. And this ‘Swindle’?”--Buddy

“Any price he tries to get you to buy is a terrible one. Leave the bargaining to me.”--Megatron

“And when you mean bargaining, you mean peacefully or using intimidation?”--Buddy

“Yes.”--Megatron

“You are impossible sometimes.”--Buddy

“Only for you.”--Megatron

“What?”--Buddy

“Here’s our stop.”--Megatron

Swindle had been told beforehand that Megatron was bringing someone else to meet him. The new medical chief, from what he understood.

He thought about displaying a couple more weapons for this new Con, maybe get them to buy something.

Swindle placing a big cannon on the table.

“That’s a bad idea Swindle.”--Lockdown

“Oh hush! You don’t know what he is like.”--Swindle

“First, she. Second, I did my homework.”--Lockdown

“But they could have a fascination in cannons once they see this beauty.”—Swindle

“Like I said, I did my homework. I heard around that the medic isn’t too found in weapons.”--Lockdown

“If that is true, then why would she even want to go to a weapons meet with Megatron?”--Swindle

“I don’t know—Speaking of which, look who’s here.”--Lockdown

Megatron landing on top of the platform with huge mechanical spider coming off of his back as they both transformed.

“I thought you said Earth spiders didn’t get that big!”--Swindle

“That’s the chief medical officer, numb nuts.”--Lockdown

The two Cons were not expecting Buddy.

Well, more Swindle, after all, Lockdown did do his homework.

Lockdown kept to himself while politely introducing himself to Buddy. She politely responded back with a small smile.

Swindle kept on showing the weapons to Megatron as the other two made small talk about modifications.

“Hey Buddy!”--Swindle

Lockdown mouthing ‘no’.

Megatron wondering what this was about.

Swindle wrapping an arm around Buddy.

Megatron’s optics are staring at it like it did a capital offense.

“What do you think of these bad boys? I’m sure that there is something here that has caught your attention.”--Swindle

“Oh? Sorry I’m just here to visit, I’m not interested in buying.”--Buddy

“Oh please, I’m sure we can work something out. You’re the new chief medical officer, right? How about I show you some of the tools I—”--Swindle

Lockdown coughing.

“Lockdown and I got at another exchange. Top notch and… and…”--Swindle

“Umm, Swindle are you feeling, okay? You’re looking a little bit queasy?”--Buddy

Swindle just now noticing the Death Glare Megatron was giving him, specifically at the arm still wrapped around Buddy’s frame.

Swindle quickly dropping it.

“How about this, Buddy. I give you these tools, for… free. For free, and you tell everyone at the base about the great deals you got here!”--Swindle

“I mean, I could—”--Buddy

“That’s wonderful! Here they are and here are the weapons you purchased Megatron!”—Swindle

Megatron still glaring but nodding.

“Oh! Okay, Bye Swindle and thank you for the tools. I’ll be sure to tell everyone back on base.”--Buddy

“Anytime Buddy!”--Swindle

“Good-bye Lockdown. I hope you have a good time finding those new mods!”--Buddy

“Much obliged Buddy, bye.”--Lockdown

Megatron and Buddy transforming, Buddy getting on Megatron’s back as he zooms out of there.

“… Did you soil yourself?”--Lockdown

“N-no!”--Swindle

Swindle brushed him aside and continued organizing his stuff in his chassis.

Lockdown just wondered if one day he might see Buddy again. It was nice to have someone else besides Swindle to talk to sometimes.

Buddy met Wasp under less pleasurable circumstances.

Buddy had been taking a break from the stuffy base one night and decided to take a walk on one of the islands nearby.

They had been walking around the area when they heard noises.

Like rapid little pede steps.

It couldn’t have been the Dinobots. Their steps were a kin to a mini earthquake.

It was someone else.

Quickly, she webbed herself to a nearby tree and watched.

A small green mech appeared from the brush.

He looked scared.

But what could have scared him?

Sure, Grimlock and the others were a bit much but if they were after the mech then Buddy would have heard them.

No, someone or something else was after the small guy.

“Wasp!”--Optimus

Buddy freezing.

“Wasp, I know you’re out there! Come out with your servos up!”--Sentinel

Wasp making more whinnying noises.

Buddy quickly snapped out of it and webs him up into the tree with her.

“Ah--”--Wasp

“Shh! Don’t scream, I’m here to help. But I can’t help you if you continue to scream, okay?”--Buddy

Wasp nodding slowly.

It was Optimus and Sentinel.

As much as Buddy wanted to know what was going on with both parties, her attention was on the shaky mech that looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

Wasp didn’t know what to think at that moment, but right now this bot was helping him get away from the Elite Guard so he decided to play along.

The Autobots suddenly came out of the brush.

Buddy and Wasp froze seeing them from their hiding place.

Wasp was already looking for a way out when he saw his savior start to shake.

At first, he thought it was out of anger and that they were going to pull out their weapon and start shooting up the place.

Until he saw her optics.

Big, wide, shaky, filled to the brim with fear.

He had seen those optics before. Those were his optics sometimes.

What had those Autobots had done to this Con to get a reaction like this?

Buddy thought that she had finally come to terms with everything that had happened, especially when Optimus showed up.

Seeing Sentinel there sent another wave of flashbacks her way. It was too much; it was too much. She knew that she should have been listening in on the conversation, it could drop some important information for the team.

But the flashes of Elita’s smile, Sentinel’s antics, and Optimus’s laughter filled her senses like no tomorrow.

Buddy was in such a shaky state she didn’t know it until the little green mech held her servo gently. Like one would do to their kid if something was scaring them.

He was trying to calm her down.

She slowly stopped the shaking as the Autobot’s left the area. After a bit more of waiting, the two climbed down the tree.

“Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that. I was the one trying to help you and you ended up helping me.”--Buddy

“Wasp is glad you okay. Nice lady bot scaring Wasp a bit.”--Wasp

“Again, sorry about that… Wasp? Is that your name?”--Buddy

“Yes. This is Wasp.”--Wasp

“Well, I’m Buddy. You have some scratches on you. I have a med kit with me, I can fix those up right now if you want.”--Buddy

Wasp looking at Buddy hesitantly before nodding.

Buddy getting to work.

“You are doing such a good job at staying still Wasp. Most of my patients like to move a lot. You’re doing so much better than they are right now.”--Buddy

“Wasp doing good job?”--Wasp

“Yes, yes you are Wasp.”--Buddy

“Buddy bot too nice to Wasp.”--Wasp

“No one can be too nice Wasp. It’s just that sometimes… sometimes empathy can get lost in wars like this.”--Buddy

“Wasp don’t like Autobots.”--Wasp

“I feel you Wasp…”--Buddy

“…Autobots hurt Buddy bot? Hurt Buddy bot bad?”--Wasp

“…Yeah, you could say that…”--Buddy

“…Autobots hurt Wasp too.”--Wasp

“I’m sorry to hear that Wasp…”--Buddy

“Wasp sorry for Buddy bot…”--Wasp

“Welp, I finished fixing those scratches and dents.”--Buddy

“Thank you!”--Wasp

“…Would you like to come with me to the Decepticons? That way you’d be safe from the Autobots.”--Buddy

Wasp pausing not sure what to answer.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that right away. That’d be selfish of me to expect that from you right now. This is my private channel, if you need me, just call me.”--Buddy

Wasp in amazement simply nodding.

“You take care okay, Wasp.”--Buddy

“Bye Buddy bot!”--Wasp

[peony-flowerking7]

Duzhe Character Sheet

Duzhe

She/They

Age: 20-24

Height: 5'10

Titles: Big Sib, Insect, Fairy, Little One, Captain, Old friend, gift.

Affiliation: Pigsy's Noodle

Occupations: delivery, cook, support and Mk big sibling

Weapon of choice: Debating

Home: Megapolis

Likes: Mysteries, space, myths and history, their friends, the unknown, make-up and cats anything with cats

Dislikes: letting her emotions control them, hurting Mk, eggplants, shorts, their legs, someone ruining her plan

Family: Pigsy, Tang, Mk

Friends/Allies: Mei, Sandy, Tang, Pigsy, Mk, Monkey King, Mo, Demon Bull Family (even Princess Iron Fan), Nezha, Macaque, Bai He, Jin and Yin, the Two Guardian Lions, Nakazawa, Wang Laoshi.

Enemy: Lady Bone Demon, Mayor, Spider Demons especially Spider Queen.

Duzhe is a college student with a chance of many dreams, although they unfortunately got way too involved with Mk's problems. They are the support and try their best, she only won one time yet she's proud of it. She works at Pigsy's Noodle with Mk and seems to be a bit responsible although she can slack off a little bit like her brother.

You could say they are the complete opposite of Mk, but that would be a lie. Mk and Duzhe have few similar traits, only thing to differentiate them from people thinking they are twins is that Duzhe has common sense. Duzhe has higher intelligence than Mk, she is very good at problem solving and just as Mk she can create a plan that half of the time can work. They are a big fan of space and wants to one day conquer it, everything about space is inherently more interesting than their life. Though they know their dreams are not reachable. It's the reason why they stook with the same hobbies as Tang except that they likes to expand themselves more on that knowledge.

Can be short-tempered if provoke and hate acting without thinking. She hold and manages their emotions pretty well. Once they do they act without thinking they messed thing up. She can be just as eccentric as Mk but keeps to themselves, they prefer thinking with their head than with their heart. They have trust issues against Macaque yet considers him as a powerful ally. Sometimes when situation are extremely stressful they can freeze up and go unresponsive, they have been getting a better handle on this response as they've been getting use to the adventures. Even so it still happens and Duzhe has no control over it.

They have rivalry with Princess Iron Fan, must be an hubris thing yet both have fought against each other. Their last encounter Princess Iron Fan call it a truce with Mk though that means Duzhe and her are in neutral tones...that doesn't mean they wouldn't fight each other at sight. They are sociable just as much as Mk and can make a friend in seconds, although most of their friends seemed to be more demon than humans. Either way, it's friendship and they care more about that.

Duzhe lacks physical abilities such as fighting or running. Overtime Wukong and Macaque's training have increase Duzhe abilities and have been able to manage their body pretty well, that saying they are getting a bit stronger and might even get stronger. Duzhe also has a fear towards The Mayor after an incident that had happened, she hates remembering that.

There's more to add about Duzhe but only as the story progresses.

[marymary-diva17]

The outcast twins (5)

Exiled and disowned was something that was common and unknown in your young life. When you had thought life couldn't get even more harder and heartbreak you had been proven wrong. As now enemies from the past are after you and your family, and now it seems like your family had been broken apart for good. Banished from the place where you were born and made you life for many years. Now it was time to began the new journey and fight in life, in the end will thing still be the same or different.

Jake " so will you all be okay here"

norm " yes will be fine here thanks for staying here to help us get settled"

Jake " anytime buddy"

norm " today didn't go plan as we all thought it will"

Jake " no it didn't"

norm " I'm sorry for what happened Jake you and the kids they are to young for this much pain all together"

Jake " yes I know are you sure you don't want to come with us we can take a few more with us"

norm " I don't know spider still human and he my family I can't just leave him here"

Jake " it okay I understand I will have some words once we get there, I will get on their good side and see if you all can come"

norm " thanks better but please take care of yourself and the kids"Jake had nodded his head the two adults had looked at the three kids, as they looked from where they came. Even the adults were hurting the most from what happened, they all knew this situation will greatly affect three teens.

max " they are so young in life and now what has happened will change them"

Jake " I wish they could stay tense living their old lives in the forest, having a good time but now those times are over they are growing up to fast"

norm " I fear what will happen to them after this all settled their relationship with the other kids, the clan, and everyone else"

max " well with us all here life will move on but slowly but I have a feeling those three and the other children will make us all proud" The three adults had talked a bit more. The group knew after leaving the forest matters will never be the same, as the words that had been spoken by Tsu’tey had greatly affected everyone and the actions of everyone else as well.

The tiro

y/n " we are so far from home now, even do we are near form forest it still not home"

spider " yes we are we have never been this far from home or the clan ... I miss all of them"

lo'ak " I miss neteyam and my sisters it doesn't feel the same without them"

y/n " the ocean not that bad after all but I was hoping everyone will be here with us ... I hope they are all okay after all they said to us"

lo'ak " why do we still care for all of them after what they have done"

y/n " we had been raised right that why we know the great mother has, something planned for us and I can't wait to see what happens"

Jake " hey kids ready to get leaving"

lo'ak " sure dad hey bro we will see you in couple days will you be okay"

spider " I will be good don't worry and we can still call time to time, and hey there has to be someone young here to keep this adults in good health" the three teens had laughed as Jake heard what was said, even he had laughed as well.

y/n " take care spider" you soon hugged spider knowing it will be a long time until, you see him for some time.

spider " you two as well and hey make some new friends so us, if we are going to make a whole new life here"

lo'ak " deal and you do the same for us as well" The group had hugged one last time before the twins left with Jake.

Hours later

Jake " we are here kids look" the twins soon spotted a village coming close, a smile had grown on your face the village looked amazing, and the whole ocean and everything was beautiful. Soon the group had been spotted by a group of navi below them and soon enough a horn had been blown as well.

Jake " don't worry everything will be alright" you and lo'ak nodded your heads to Jake words, soon circling around and soon landing on the sandy ground.

Jake " hello we mean no harm" you and your brother soon follow after Jake as he was walking towards the group of navi that came to see them or greet them.

y/n " ........" the father and twins had stopped walking as the crowd start surrounded them, looking at the new arrivals that just came here. Soon two boys had come towards the front you and lo'ak greet them, and they seem to do the same kinda of.

lo'ak " well it seems like we made a good impression" soon you and lo'ak looked around, but you brother stopped looking as you soon looked where he stare had been placed on. Soon a teenage girl had arrived at the inland on one ocean creatures.

lo'ak " ......"

y/n " I think someone already like our new home" you had giggle getting lo'ak attention.

aonung " they are kinda of weird"

rotxo " look at their baby tails"

tsireya " aonung rotxo be nice"

lo'ak " hey" lo'ak had give the girl a what up head movement which made the girl laugh and giggle, as you shake your head looking around when you felt someone walk around you. Soon enough you had spotted a teen boy looking at you, he seem to be near neteaym age or year younger.

y/n " hello"

???? " hello"

tsireya " Sayoa there you are" the boy had smirked towards you before he walked off to join the girl and other two teen boys.

lo'ak " look like you found something good to" you had once again laugh as you father look back at you two, and smile a bit but soon enough a call had been heard as three creatures fly over you three. the one who was the leader had land first and soon got off the creature's, soon walking back onto the shore.

Jake " tonowari I see you"

tonowari " i see you Jake sully but why have you and two young ones come here" Before your dad could say anything ronal had showed up as well.

Jake " I and my kids along with some friends of ours that stayed a bir from here have come here seeking uturu, the sky people are back and mean to do harm"

ronal " uturu"

Jake " yes please for my kids and others with me please"

tonowari " we have heard about this war and I see that scar, I been told of the rumors of your relationship with olo'eytahn tsutey and neytiri ... it a sad new"

Jake " yes it has become sad news and rest of my family an land stayed behind"

ronal " why if enemies have come back"

Jake " as I and my kids along with everyone else in our group has been exiled and disowned"

ronal " you have children with you"

Jake " yes it seems like exiled and banished but fallen on them as well, for things that have been out of their control" whispers had been heard as the crowd was looking, they all seem to hate the idea of kids being exiled.

ronal " these are just children it seems like they have inherited your blood in them" ronal was looking at your hands and soon at your brother.

ronal " other will say they have demon blood in them"

Jake " yes I was one sky people but u have given up my old body and adapt, we can adapt myself and my kids along with the others"

y/n " we can adapt that is true"

lo'ak " yes"

tonowari " we gave heard about your great tales of becoming toruk makto and warning you had tried to make, that had fallen on death ears ... I hope you can help us when the time comes"

Jake " yes I can" tonowari and ronal had looked at each other and seem to be having a silent conversation, with each other soon enough they came up with a decision.

tonowari " you and your children can stay here we have some emptied homes, but you most learn our ways"

Jake " yes thank you"

tonowari " I wish to hear more about your and your family here, along with the rest of this group"

Jake " yes that can happen"

tonowari " my three sons and daughter will teach your kids the way" tonowari and looked towards the group of teens from earlier.

aonung " father why ...."

tonowari " it been decided my brothers and sister we will welcome Jake and his children into our clan, we will help them adapt as they and we might learn something from them as well" it was done the family of three had been given refugee in the clan, and it seems like they had been welcome so far.

tsireya " here let me help you move you stuff into you new home and show you around"

sayoa " I will help as well sister"

rotxo " don't forget us as well"

Jake " thank you" the family had been take to their new home.

tisreya " this is your new home we will let you all get unpacked and settled we will start lessons tomorrow"

y/n " thank you" the teens soon left after they place the stuff into the home, soon the family of three had gotten everything set up for their new home. Once everything was up it was night time, loak had went together some fire wood that will be used for cooking and heat. While you helped Jake make dinner.

Jake “ you are a brave girl”

y/n “ how I’m brave girl day I was not able to defend our home, and now we lost the one place we love so much”

Jake “ you are brave for being here my dear and always making sure I and your brother are okay, and being there for everyone else speak up as well”

y/n “ dad you will always be the mighty toruk makto to me” Jake had smiled soon kissing your forehead, making you smile as you finished helping make dinner. Loak had came back and started a fire for cooking. The tiro had ate dinner this was not their first time having dinner, as a family of three but this time time it hurts more then usual as you all were no longer at home but in a new place that was the unknown.

Jake “ calling to home is anyone there” Jake was trying to call home tree with the help of max, and others to see how the children back there were doing. Nothing was working call signs that had been made between families didn’t work and either did the children.

Jake “ I understand where you all are coming from and I’m sorry, I hope one day we can meet again but I understand if you wish to never see us again… but know we will do everything to defend our …. Your home if you ever need help just call” Jake soon ended the call and the signal as well had been destroyed. Jake looked at twins loak was showing no emotions,but you were crying. Jake and loak soon hugged you the hopes of everything going back to normal, was becoming a dream to you maybe one day you will see the forests once again if you kept on dreaming and believe maybe some parts of life will be the same again or changed forever.

[howlingday]

jaune is spiderman au) grandpa arc meets one of jaune's enemies, bullseye while on a date with grandma arc. grandpa arc: "what's with the get up pal? this a stick up or are ya just ugly?" grandpa arc: go ahead take my wallet chief ozpin hasn't paid me since my run in with mayor need, or as I like to call him..." granpa arc: **throws a rock at the villains head** "CHUCK!" **pulls out 500 magnum revolver** grandpa arc: "thanks for the cross hair looks both of us are getting blown tonight!" BLAM BLAM BLAM grandpa arc: "common dear I need a drink" **walks away with grandma arc** meanwhile with jaune jaune: "why the hell don't any of my villains stick around?"

Chapter 2 - Lethal Protection

Ren walked into the dorm to find newspapers spread all over the floor. Jaune lifted one, bringing it closer, before setting it down to write in his notebook nearby. He gave a hum before turning to another newspaper and repeating the process.

"I hope this isn't for an assignment."

"No, more of a... personal project." Jaune didn't look up, though his expression did show that Ren had broken his focus. "Snipe Hunt died this morning. Gunshot."

"Which one was he again?"

"Bullseye." Jaune answered quickly. "Was gonna assassinate the headmaster but I managed to stop him."

"By being late to Pyrrha's award ceremony."

"I sAID..." Jaune's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I said I was sorry, and she forgave me."

"She forgives everyone, Jaune." Ren shook his head. "But instead of giving you a lecture on being a good friend, I have to ask; why are you so interested in Bullseye's death if he was shot? Last I checked, he wasn't exactly the most popular guy in town."

"No, he wasn't." Jaune lifted another page. "But the fact that the news keeps calling it a murder makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Maybe we could call Lisa Lavender and ask her call it something else instead."

"I'm serious, Ren." Jaune set the pages down and gave his roommate a serious look. "Snipe was a killer. He was a bad guy, and that's something I've figured out BEFORE he tried to kill me. But if someone is going around, killing bad guys without the police or any huntsmen or huntresses involved, then it just means there's one more killer out there that I have to stop."

Ren was quiet for a moment. He'd been with Jaune in this vigilante business since catching him sneaking into the room late one night. Come next morning, he and Jaune agreed to keep quiet on both accounts, Ren about his criminal roommate and Jaune whenever he's sneaking back in for the night. Ever since, Ren had let Jaune go about his business as a crime-fighter. It was a very simple "quiet and neutral" agreement.

However, the way Jaune was speaking now was unlike anything Ren had seen before from him. Normally meek and mild, letting Cardin or Yang or even Nora pick on him while either sighing or laughing the issue off. You could step on his shoe and the worst he'd do is ask you to please get off. Here, though, Jaune had a look in his eyes that said, 'I'm doing this and you can't stop me'. Ren was actually impressed.

"Jaune?" The uncostumed hero looked to him. "What can I do to help?"

--------------------------------------------------

"Are you okay, honey?"

"Mm."

"I know you were only protecting Jaune. Your heart was in the right place."

"Mhm."

"Do you... Do you need anything?"

"...Need to talk to Jaune."

--------------------------------------------------

"So, what's the plan?" Nora chirped into Pyrrha's ear. "Break into the police station? Rough up some witnesses? Ooh~! Maybe send a message to all the goons to come forward~?"

Pyrrha tapped her earpiece. "I was thinking something less dramatic."

Jumping from the roof, she hopped from wall to windowsill to fire escape to dumpster until she landed on the ground. The same ground where the costumed criminal, "Bullseye," was murdered. Not two weeks ago, the Huntsman Spider had managed to thwart his attempt to murder her headmaster, and now he was dead by something so... simple. She scanned the crime-scene, noting where the police had left their markers for notable evidence locations.

She looked over to see Nora was still distracting the police officers by asking inane questions. Things of a range from 'How you become a police officer' to 'What if you break a law in another city and flee to Vale' nature. Pyrrha had to work fast if she wanted to avoid being caught, getting them both in trouble for different, yet connected reasons.

Pyrrha noted the chalk outline with the legs pointing to the entrance of the alley, meaning the assassin was either facing his opponent or was shot in the back while fleeing. The police reports on the news said that three gunshots were heard at the time of the murder. Loud gunshots, meaning it had to be a large gun. Closing her eyes, she twitched her fingers for her semblance to pick up anything.

Dumpsters. Fire escape. A few small things like paperclips and bolts, but nothing like a bullet. She frowned. Either the police already had the shells, which was possible, or whatever bullets were used didn't expel shells, which wouldn't make sense since only huntsmen were allowed to have weapons like that. This was a murder, though, so...

"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Officers! I'll be sure to buy you a DONUT for your troubles~!" Pyrrha flinched. It was time to go. Carefully moving to the shadows where she could more easily escape, Pyrrha began her climb to the rooftops.

"So, how did it go?" Nora asked in Pyrrha's ear.

"Not good." Pyrrha replied. "Being a vigilante is a lot harder than it looks."

"Then maybe you should give up." Pyrrha whirled around and swung at the dark-cloaked figure behind her. Her attack was blocked, but that wouldn't stop her. She swung her other fist in, catching the thugs in their armored sided, making them grunt and let go. Pyrrha kept her fists up, only held back by the figure holding up their hand. "I'm not here to fight you."

"Pyrrha? Pyrrha, what's going on?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment about how best to respond. She could tell Nora that she was under attack right now, making the two jump into combative states and potentially make things worse. Otherwise...

"I tripped." Pyrrha said into her earpiece. The figure across from her rubbed their side where they were punched.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll meet you at rendezvous point."

"The what?"

"The place we're meeting up."

"Alright," Nora said, "I'm getting cocoa!"

"Thank you for not getting her involved." The figure said.

"I can easily change that with a phone call, now talk." Pyrrha glared through her goggles. Could she beat this opponent? The punch Pyrrha landed earlier told her yes, but she preferred to err on the side of caution when she could. "Who are you?"

"I'm... Black." The figure said. "I'm a vigilante."

"Why are you here?"

"To stop you from being one."

"What?"

"This isn't a game..." The air was left open as an introduction, which Pyrrha gladly gave with her fists to her hips.

"I'm the Red Huntress!"

"Right... The Red... Huntress..." It was clear Black didn't care for the simple name Pyrrha gave herself. "This isn't a game. People can get hurt out here. People DO get hurt out here."

"If it's so dangerous, then why are you doing it?" Pyrrha asked.

"Because I need to." Black said. "The White Fang are up to something in this city, and I need to be the one to stop it."

"Just you?" Pyrrha asked. "Seems a bit selfish, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you, and you are literally wearing just goggles and a cape." Black said with a groan. By contrast, the dark-cloaked figure was wearing bulletproof... everything over a black bodysuit. If Pyrrha didn't know any better, she'd assume Black was a special operations member separated from their team. They gave a sigh. "Look... What will it take for you to go home?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment. "What can you tell me about the murder that happened this morning?"

-------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Grandpa!"

"Hey, little hunter!" Jaune's grandfather chuckled. Since Jaune left for Beacon, this had become his go-to greeting for him. "How's the high life with your fancy edu-macation?"

Jaune rolled his eyes. "Not bad." Jaune said. "How's the retired life?"

"Slow and boring." He groaned. "And, uh, what about..."

"I'm not alone, Grandpa, but..." Jaune didn't start this vigilante thing alone. He'd gotten the armor for the costume from his grandfather taking the old family shield and getting it cut down into smaller pieces to be sewn onto cloth. With it, Jaune looked like a superhero, someone who could do more good outside the law than he could do in. Grandpa, a retired huntsman and police officer, had friends on the force still who could help him out now and again with information. "I've got a friend wanting to help me."

"A friend, huh?"

"Hello, sir." Ren greeted. "My name is Lie Ren."

"Ren, huh?" Grandpa made a tapping sound on his end. "And how'd you get roped into this, Ren?"

"I caught Jaune when he was sneaking back into our dorm."

"Ugh... I shoulda known... Jaune was never good at keeping quiet."

"He can keep quiet," Ren defended, earning a grin from Jaune, "but only after you tell him to." Jaune's smile fell.

"Ha! That's true!" Jaune's smile fell harder.

"Anyways," Jaune tried to steer the conversation, "I was calling because I needed your help with something."

"Of course you do. It's never to check up on your grandma and me. You gotta need something!" Ren gave a worried look to Jaune.

"Because when I call you any other time you just go, 'uh-huh' and ''mhm'!"

"Mhm..." Grandpa replied, giving a chuckle. "So, what can I help ya with?"

"It's about a murder that happened." Jaune asked. "I was wondering if you could help me out?"

"What have ya got so far?"

"Just a victim and a CoD."

"Uh-huh? And those are?"

"Snipe Hunt, aka Bullseye, killed by a gunshot. He's the one I told you about before, remember?" The line went quiet. "Grandpa?"

"Mhm."

"Are you okay, Mr. Arc?" Ren asked.

"I'm fine." He yawned. "It's just getting late for me."

"Oh, well, I'll let you get your rest then, Grandpa."

"No, no, I can still talk. Or at least give you some advice."

"Okay..." Jaune could feel his legs twitch with excitement as he waited for the advice.

"Some cases need more time to be looked into. Eventually, everything will figure itself out. That's what I learned on the force."

"...That's it? Just sit around and wait?"

"I said I could give you some advice. Never said it was good advice. Maybe if you look for the good in the bad, you might learn something?"

"Good in the bad..." Ren cupped his chin. "You said you learned this lesson on the force, then maybe the police would know more."

"Huh... They would, wouldn't they?" Jaune gave a smirk. "And there's that police understudy program floating around, too. Maybe I could find my way into the police records and figure out from there!"

"Maybe." Jaune couldn't see, but he could tell when his grandpa was smiling. "It's getting late. I'll tell grandma you said hi."

"See ya, Grandpa!"

"Goodbye, Mr. Arc, sir. It was nice meeting you."

"G'night, boys."

--------------------------------------------------

Jack Arc hung up the phone. His smile fade and he let out a sigh. Looking by it, he saw the murder weapon seated on the other side. He shook his head, picking it up in his large, calloused hands. The cold metal helped him think.

"It's heavier today." His hand lowered. "So heavy."

[alicelufenia]

Thinking about my last reblog and how Baldur's Gate 3 character creation kinda fucked with my perception of paladins in the bg3 setting (it's specific version of the Forgotten Realms at least)

Since paladins don't get to select a deity at CC, I got the impression that paladins who's oath was not sworn before any particular god were more common than they really are.

There's technically a "Paladin of X" tag in game for dialogue, but the ONLY way to get it without mods is to also take a level of cleric and select a deity that way.

So when I made Alice as essentially a renegade paladin whose oath was sworn before no one except through her own conviction and fervor to self-actualize (she's Oath of Glory in canon) and that manifested divine power anyway, turns out that's really weird and uncommon in setting where most paladins swear an oath before a deity, and thus presumably are bound to tenets dictated by said deity (or the order of paladins they belong to, whether that reflects the true will of the god or not)

This is, in my defense, NOT how it works in tabletop 5e, where paladins select an oath but are not required to pick a deity (they still can pick one like many characters do, even those with no levels in divine casters). Giving a paladin a deity is more a nod to tradition, but RAW you're free to hold an oath without following a faith, just like you can be any alignment regardless of your oath (except maybe oathbreaker. BG3 even turns that on it's head by making it possible to be 'Good' as an oathbreaker, even restoring your oath, which isn't a thing in tabletop unless it's to repent for breaking it but without going full oathbreaker subclass)

Enter the most prominent paladin in Baldur's Gate 3, Minthara

Don't have any art saved to my phone so enjoy plushthara instead

She originally swore her oath of vengeance while in service to Lolth, to seek out and eliminate the enemies of the faith in Menzoberranzan (essentially part of the Lolthite Inquisition). This, by the way, is why she's so insightful when it comes to the other companions; it was literally her job to get good at reading people to find out what their deal was.

Her crusade against the enemies of Lolth led her and an army of House Baenre soldiers to Moonrise Towers, but instead of putting an end to the Absolute cult, she was captured, tortured for days, her soldiers killed or enthralled, and finally tadpoled and made to turn all that religious ferver and devotion towards serving the Absolute.

For this failure, Lolth abandoned her. As a Lolth-sworn drow (a problematic term basically made up for bg3 but works here) losing Lolth's favor is the most devastating thing possible, and there's almost no chance of going back. After being released from command of the Absolute by the Prism, she was, spiritually, alone for probably the first time in 250+ years of memory. Unless you come from a religious background only to lose faith later in life, you can't imagine what that's like (I don't ftr, but this is how I have come to understand it based on @spiderwarden's analysis)

And yet, despite this severing from a god that works Her way into every facet of Udadrow life, her oath endures. She remains a faithless (really faith-orphaned), but still undeniably spiritual paladin, bound to an oath that, for now, has her carrying out the same objective that sent her out of the Underdark before—destroy the cult of the Absolute, and seize that godlike power from those who control it.

When you rescue Minthara after romancing her in act 1, she says "You came. I prayed that you would, but there are no gods left for me." That raw-as-fuck line also spells out her current relationship to religion; IF a god would have her, she would be devoted. She even calls out to Lolth who, if the Spider Queen were to somehow take her back, she would in a heartbeat. With none answering her, she has no one but her savior, Tav/Durge, and their companions (whom she is now oath-bound to help whether she likes them or not)

And her natural inclination is to channel all that hurt, all that resentment and humiliation at being left with no divinity to know and to be known, into abject RAGE. Though she doesn't show it, I believe she is angrier and meaner NOW than she's ever been in life. That's why she talks about spitting on a shrine to Lolth, why she disapproves of offering tithe to any god at the Stormshore Tabernacle. Why she wants to BECOME a god, to become Absolute.

Hate is love betrayed. And I believe she had a LOT of love for Lolth.

Anyway this started as me musing on the spiritual nature of 5e paladin oaths in bg3, and kinda turned into character analysis for Minthara. Still, as the game's biggest example of a paladin who no longer serves any god but still commands divine powers to ⚔️SMITE Evil⚔️ by her oath, I think it came around in the end.

[again-and-then]

Part two of my Hazbin Hotel redesign/edits

as usual, design commentary under the cut

Alastor: Hello Red Man, bane of my existence. there are many things about Alastor's design that work and many that don't. Personally, I'm not one for the full reworks some people prefer but I've got some notes. First of all, a darker color for his suit. More bloody serial killer, less strawberry pimp. glasses are better than a monocle. I did want to adopt the deer color pattern for the face, you know to make his deer symbolism a little more notable than fluffy ears and a pair of forks taped to his skull.

Niffty: I'll be honest, I think Niffty's design is fun. she was a delight to draw. my only change is the little spikes on her legs and elbows to further sell the cockroach theme. she's so adorable and quirky when she stabs people to death.

Angel Dust: My personal enemy. I put Angel in the category of 'Zoophobia era designs that Viv refuses to properly update'. I've never liked Angel's design, especially his head. kinda looks like a lima bean with hair taped to it. Also, Hell's most famous pornstar has practically no ass? Please bitch. I did my best to give him a slightly more believable figure and proportions (despite him still being 60% leg). spider floof because I've made my opinions on bowties clear.

Cherri Bomb: a solid design, but a bit too chaotic and quirky. Her usual look screams party girl, not chaotic arsonist anarchist. really, just needed a nice jacket and some color tweaks and she looks a thousand times more like a girl that regular fights and kills over territory.

Vox: Viv. Vivenne. Vivzy. Miss Pop. fucking... please, stop with the tiny hats and bowties. just... Why was Vox wearing a three piece suit with coattails, just to make a vague shark reference. the man is already a goddamn TV. you seriously want me to believe that Vox, the man who prides himself on pushing modernity and the man who works with the Fashion overlord that hates old fashioned outfits is going to have such a dated look? please. This was probably the most heavy lifting I did in the redesign department. kept the spirit of the look but just made it a touch more modern.

Velvette: This bitch perfect. no fucking notes. work it darling. just a personal preference, I think her best look was her first appearance in the show with the bang and ponytail, rather than the more common twintail&outfit combo.

[pink-pearl-plain-jeans]

spiderman!baxter / Ourlife × Spiderverse?

!disclaimer!

these aren't meant to replace the original characters on both side of the series, it just what seemed to me which role the OL characters would fit the most if they were in a spiderverse scenario!

(this was done on a whim, didnt mean to write all that)

((also english is not my first language))

(((also i never write)))

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[originally it was only the boy's club members as the trio from the spiderverse, i didnt get to draw them yet, but here's the idea:]

• Baxter | Peter

It's clear that Baxter knows what he's doing, people's opionion of him was either he's weird and that's why no one's friends with him or that he's too cool to have friends. In his universe no one knew who spiderman really was, but it's an easy guess that he's rich- his suits were always new and clean, almost sparkling even! And he there's always this certain smell when he's present, it's probably branded perfume, body lotion, etc. Plus, he spoke fancy and he never hurt his enemies, like a gentleman. People joked that he might as well wore a full-suit and the next day he showed up to a fight in a tuxedo, no one knew if he did it on purpose or not, but it sparked a debate whether spiderman was one of them, the commoners, or he just understood commoner's joke.

Although the world couldn't figure out his identity, there's yet another side of him that he kept a secret from the world, any world in universes, really. Baxter Ward was actually a pathetic man who definitely didn't drop to the floor and had panic attack when he got bitten by the radioactive spider. Yes, he's a questionable, rich, pampered mentor for Renee.

He met Jamie in Renee's universe, they were... colorful. He couldn't describe them with any word that existed in his and their universe. Colors were the most beautiful thing he had encounter, and they had all of the colors. And he did not have any. But he had to leave and go back to his world, never to came back. He didn't realize his universe was essentially empty now, there's no color, no Renee, no Qiu and no Jamie. He might really be a weirdo no one wanted to be friends with, just like they said. But he's way more sad thinking about how he especially missed Jamie's eye color and, it was a weird feeling, but their "colorful" personality too. Baxter didn't know a person's trait could have colors in it, and that those colors could feel warm, he missed those dearly too, more than their eyes. But less than their lips. No! He needed to stop thinking about them. To distract away from his sorrow, which was caused by himself, he joined SpiderSociety right away, and went on missions whenever he's allowed to. Even though he missed Renee (and Jamie), he actively avoid her universe because there are odds of crossing path with them. He made them cry, their tears were transparent. He was just a stranger from another universe, and he had hurt them. Yeah, going back there and apologize was a choice, but well, it seemed like it'd be an unfinished business for a while...

• Darren/Renee | Miles

Going through a lot of changes; mentally and physically, Darren had only figured out his behavior towards girls and to his reflection as his insecurity. He understood that he's not angry because of the physical changes- puberty and whatnot- he's angry that he's not a girl. His mom was the most beautiful woman in the world, why was his similarity with her were only their eyes? He wanted her hair too! Actually, he wanted whatever other girls had, and he's upset that he didn't. Getting bitten by a spider, witnessing Spiderman died, got chased by a criminal, hands sticking to a wall and to Qiu's beatiful long hair weren't helpful either. He knew he needed to change. He- no, the first step SHE needed to take was to introduce Darren to Renee, to embrace herself. Baxter and Qiu didn't help much with the journey except making her understood that her reactions were not normal teenagers tantrum, but Qiu, being unapologetically non-binary (and their sarcastic nature), did make her a little bit braver to be more of herself. Qiu was cool. Baxter's just a pretty chill guy, so that's good, but Qiu joked that they're glad Renee's not a good student becauae they didn't want her to take after him.

Renee housed Baxter and Qiu, they didn't have anywhere to go. They did actually, to Uncle Holden's house, whoever that was, but Baxter was too unwell to navigate. He kept puking because he was overwhelmed and overstimulated by all the lights colors. He explained that his universe were only black and white, but not like the old movies, like Renee and Qiu's world "manga" instead. This wowed them, especially when he removed his mask and his skin was pale- literally paper white. His eyes were brown, but he didn't know what brown was. They kept touching and pinching his skin, it's smooth but weird. He had no shadows no matter where the light was shining from, he's just black and white. After his fifth time throwing up white and black liquid, they decided to help him (Qiu actually wanted to try feed him normal food and see how his body process it).

Although basically new to, well, both her spiderwoman identity and herself, Renee would eventually be able to stand on her own and surpass Baxter and Qiu. Currently, she's not as close with her friends from the other universe anymore, in fact, she had never seen or heard from them again.

• Qiu | Gwen

A very agile ballet dancer, used to be social but now they literally would bite, or so it seemed. They most likely wouldnt have a single friend if Franky didn't make the sacrafice to try and understand them. Qiu was hard to handle, even for themselves. They didn't know why it was so hard to do simple things, it's like they needed to break themselves out from their own. Alas, that wouldn't work. This wasn't an interactive game about androids becoming human-like, their "errors" didn't came from a program and they had no reset button, unfortunately. It was frustrating for everyone, but it's especially distressing for them. Boy, they're glad their identity as Spiderperson was unknown by everbody except Franky, they wouldn't want to have enemies and fans knowing their weaknesses. Fortunately, the spidey-sense had help them do the Spiderperson's stuff normally.

Qiu, Franky and Tam were friends, but growing up happened, it was just shitty, and now they're all just neighbors. Sometimes they saw each other outside thier houses and didn't say a word, avoiding eye contact or just straight up ignoring each other. Except Franky, they always had something to say, that's annoying when Qiu tried to obviously avoid them on purpose, but they never relent. At least their one neighbor didn't change, so that was nice. But they're almost always with Tam- like a puppy and her owner or whatever- and Qiu hated Tamarack. They had to pay attention to EVERYTHING when she was there because she's easily hurt, actually scratch that, she'd feel hurt by almost anything, even the wind! Probably. Qiu's had enough playing guardians as the town's hero AND their real life. They're tired of everything, they should be allowed being tired without feeling guilty. Her being like that was just stressful to them, Franky and herself. The relationship wasn't healthy anymore, so it couldn't be helped, not everything can be protected forever. When Tam found out Qiu was THE Spiderperson, it was like her bravery from childhood resurfaced, she'd been a fan! She blurted out for a sign on one of their scattered papers. They rejected the request. Franky got it for her though. But it felt less special, and now she felt a little sad whevener she's thinking about Spiderperson... they were just her neighbor, still awesome, but just a neighbor- and not even a friendly nighborhood Spiderperson.

Qiu was more than surprised to meet Tamarack in SpiderSociety, she was also a Spiderwoman! What! And they actually went on a couple missions together (after the leader had enough of them and their weird excuses to avoid those missions). But there's something off about her, Qiu was sure of this. They could see the striking confidence exuded in anything she did, she's good at fighting and yelling, just like their childhood Tam. Was it the effect Radioactive Spider's bite on her? They wanted that too! It took a while before they realized she's from another universe. Was the Qiu in her universe... better? At least normal, just like how people were supposed to be? They wanted to know but didn't want to ask. But they had to admit, the mission they did together made them missed the old times. This was what pushed Qiu to reconcile with their own Tam, although it didn't make things turn back to its original state.

• Tamarack | Miguel

Tamarack was indeed the leader of SpiderSociety. Her canon event was losing her bestfriend Autumn to her parents' experiment- accidental, but she couldn't condone her parents anymore. She left home and traveled through the universes until she found where they're both friends. Tamarack would surprised Autumn everytime their universe's Tamarack went the other way and she appeared from another in mere seconds. She'd joke she had superpowers. But Qiu had always been smart and their gut feelings were strong. They confronted Tamarack for explaination, because what had been happening weren't normal. She had to come close or else, they'd stop talking to her. Autumn cried and apologized that she lost her bestfriend, he wouldn't know what to do if they lost their Tamarack. She tried to comfort them, but the moment she touched them, their body started to disintergrate. Their cries were not sad anymore, it was fear. A familiar voice came from behind, it was their Tamarack, she must had been listening. Just as quickly as she came and hug her Autumn, they both disappeared. So did their universe. Tamarack went back to her own universe, scared to admit to her close friend, Frankie, of what she had caused. Autumn died in her hands again.

Now, Tamarack and Frank had been helping each other with the programs and informations on every Spiderpeople in every universe. She needed to prevent the same thing from happening again, this was her responsibility now that she attuned the knowledge. She couldn't witness another Autumn die from unnatural deaths. Keeping the canons intact sounded cruel, but it'd be crueler for her to let everything fall apart. She did what she had to do. Although, she had been avoiding Qiu in the SpiderSociety, so much so that she didn't realize they were doing the same thing. But some things couldn't be avoided forever. Or maybe Frankie had been tampering with the schedules from time to time behind Tamarack's back. Their missions were fun, even though they're yet fron another universe, Qiu 'Autumn' Lin was easy to talk to. They even had a moment of somewhat heart-to-heart talk, but Tamarack made sure that they were not becoming friends. The chance of having natural death as a Spiderpeople was reduced at least by 50%, but what if Qiu died unnatural death in her hands again? Or, again, because of her? Even the thought was too much for her. She's almost too scared to even look at them, but she had the leader image to keep up with.

Meeting Baxter and Qiu wasn't a problem with her, she hand monitored them throughout the events in Renee's universe. She's pretty, but she's an anomaly. Tamarack didn't ban Baxter and Qiu from visiting Renee's universe, but she had made them understood to restrain themselves from going there. None of them know what would happen if they keep contacting with an anomaly- worse case scenario, that universe vasnihed. Worst case scenario, every universe perish from existence. So to help them ease their focus on Renee's universe, she reminded them other universes need their help to keep up with the canon events.

Qiu had never been the rule-follower, so they visited Renee more than a couple times. Tamarack knew about this, of course, but maybe she still had a soft spot for someone who shared the same face as he own bestfriend. They seemed so lost at times, but Tamarack couldn't be their friend even when she wanted to be. She's also not Baxter's friend, so she had no way to get close to Qiu. It made her feel a little bit helpless, but Frankie always knew how to get her back on her feet. Plus, as long as they didn't mess around with the canon events again, nothing weird had happened ever since Qiu visited Renee.

The result of contacting an anomaly still wasn't clear, but one thing's for sure, Qiu had brought Renee into the SpiderSociety. Not accidentally, they had offered it to her.

[none of them are romantically involved like the actual chracters' role in the movie! but you're free to imagine. they're all from different universes anyway]

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there probably would be part 2 but only for OLBA characters as spidermen! bc i dont know how to proceed with the story lol the third movies isn't out so the story would be pretty close to canon OLNF, which also ISNT OUT SDSJSJSK im using creativity to grasp renee's personality.

i actually didnt have and inspiration for tamarack actually, but i wanted her to be included too bc my girl's gotta be an amazing spiderwoman! so i did hers on the spot. she's pretty different from OLNF but its still herrrr 🩷🫂

pls let me know if anything is offensive! im not a writer, not trans and not sure if i do have adhd or not.