#i want this 'searching for The Girl' adventure to feel completely pointless to him at a personal level | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

santalsaburablog · 3 years

Text

The adventures of Santal. Chapter 11. Santal, help out!

Believe in yourself, otherwise no one will believe in you.

A riddle! Santal, who has recently been studying at the Jedi Temple, saw for the first time a real lightsaber duel, as well as the former padawan of Master Yoda, Master Ian Dooku! Wanting to get acquainted, the girl, however, suffers because of the tension that has arisen between her and another youngster named Landa Selmura. Not knowing what to do, Santal decides to seek help from the grandmaster, but after receiving advice, something unexpected happens…

- Santal, just in case, I have nothing to do with it! It's not me! I don't know!

- Hush, calm down, what happened? Santal gently pulled the boy's hands away from her.

But Svante continued to tremble, folding his hands in a cross.

— I do not know how it happened! - the little Rodian continued to talk confusedly.

"You'd better show me," Santal interrupted. She was burning with impatience at what had happened.

- Let's run.

Svante took the girl to his room. It was, as Santal had expected, the same as hers. But there were minor differences. There was a plate with three jogans on it. On the left is a computer. The boy brought the daughter of the Jedi to him.

"I want to say right away that I'm not a computer hacker," Santal admitted.

And then I caught a slight sadness, although the expression of the face was not completely visible.

— Yes, and where did you get this device? - the girl continued. — We, the Younglings, like ... - and stopped. She didn't know if she was speaking correctly or not.

— It shouldn't be so personal. And that's the problem. One of the older ones lent it to me, and I screwed up. Here, " Svante pointed to the screen.

Santal looked carefully and did not understand. There were two tabs on the screen.

— And what's there? Santal asked, holding out her hand to the screen.

- You see, I was looking for information, and then I clicked somewhere. And so…

Santal, without thinking twice, moved her finger along the mouse and clicked on the first tab. The text appeared.

Svante opened his mouth slightly. And then he smiled, wanting to say something, but changed his mind.

- Hurrah! Thanks! And then I was scared, I thought that…

And Santal didn't know what to do. Laugh or swear. She thought something serious had happened. And here... oh, the Power!

The girl closed the second tab.

"Don't push that thing again," she advised. — I don't understand one thing. More precisely, two things. Why did you ask me for help, and not one of the older ones? And what were you shouting at first, I don't remember?

— I was just scared. Especially not my room, but that padawan's. That is... yes, that. Room. Sorry, I didn't say that… He allowed me to use it without leaving his room. And when I clicked, I didn't get my bearings, ran for help, stumbled upon you, and you sometimes sit in the library and know something about it. Probably. That's what I thought, " Svante finally relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. And before that, I was flexing my fingers and getting confused in words. - I think I've said everything.

"Okay, I'm going," Santal said, and after waiting for an approving nod, she ran to her room, feeling great comfort from her clansman.

However, she still had some thoughts left. But she brushed them off like an insect, because there was a more important task. Find Dooku.

The girl did not run fast, feeling as if after what had happened a minute ago, she herself felt a little easier.

But then she suddenly realized that she had forgotten where Dooku's room was with all this fuss. And almost immediately calmed down. Why would she be in a hurry? Anyway, the old master is not going anywhere. She can approach him tomorrow.

And the next day the girl safely forgot about it. And calmly continued to study.

So six months have passed since getting into the Temple. And then, one day, the daughter of the Jedi woke up and realized that she was turning four.

As soon as she jumped out of bed with a wide smile, she immediately collapsed. The girl remembered that she now lives in the Temple. My aunt, who is preparing a cake in the morning, is not around. She will not kiss her again in the morning, will not hug her. My uncle will not circle over my head. No. It won't happen again.

So Santal just got up without haste, got dressed and went out. A little sad. Because no one will congratulate her.

This day was a day off. No classes, so you can relax. Santal calmly wandered through the corridors. Finally, I found a mirror and looked at it, wanting to find out what had changed.

And there were no special changes. The girl has grown up a little, and that's all. In the face, consider, there are zero changes.

— So I became a year older, so I became a year older... - Yunling hummed to herself.

According to tradition, I wondered what my aunt, uncle and that uncle were doing. Do they think about it?

Suddenly, Nick came across her. The Twi'lek, seeing the clansman, made a sign to lekku, meaning a greeting. Santal understood, because before the unexpected departure, her aunt had managed to teach her how to say hello, say goodbye, and other simple things with the help of the movements of tchun and tchin.

So Santal understood the Lekku language and the Twi'lek language a little, but she wanted to go further, to master it perfectly.

- Hi, there.

- Hi, Nick.

- Wow, did you learn the word "hello"? Congratulations! Progress, " the boy laughed.

Santal also laughed, but deep down she was a little offended by the joke. She didn't like it for something. There was something about her.

- Don't be offended. I was just joking, " Nick somehow realized that Santal was unpleasant to hear.

Santal decided that Nick guessed because of her expression or just felt it with the help of the Force.

— Where are you going?

— I want to rest. I'll probably sit in the Hall of a Thousand Fountains. Or where the trees are. I like quiet places.

- All right. I'm going to see a friend. He's making something again — " Nick went on his way.

And Santal is his own. Even though she said where she was going, she was still bored. She even thought, maybe she should have told about her birthday? Or not?

As a result, the girl, after sitting in the Fountain Hall, went to the garden. I sat down under a tree, thinking about everything.

- "Today is my birthday. 4 years old. But for some reason, I'm a little sad. Why? Maybe because this is my first birthday not at home, but at the Jedi Temple. I wonder if the Jedi celebrate their birthdays? I hope so. And it's not interesting to live without such an important holiday. After all, on this day you realize that you have become a year older, more mature. Another year has passed. And if there is no birthday, then the years fly by unnoticed. You don't have time to keep up."

The girl sighed and began to think further.

- "What are others doing now? Yes, I'm thinking about them again. Because there is not much to think about. My aunt probably forgot me by refusing. My uncle, I think, remembers me. And the guy with the hat? I wonder if he thinks about me? Although, on the other hand, why should he even think about me? Well, he lost me. And at first, most likely, he was looking for it. Then, maybe, he waved his hand. And I understand him. I would also give up pointless searches. We are nothing to each other."

Santal sat for a while longer, looked around and went back. She didn't know what to do, so she decided to read something.

However, the girl did not suspect that today she is not the only one who is overcome by anxiety for some unknown reason.

***

Dooku was sitting in his room and meditating. His face was absolutely calm and serene, as befits the face of any Jedi. But it was fake. In fact, the old Jedi was a little worried. He had a premonition that something would happen soon. Fortunately or not, it is unknown. Moreover, the excitement appeared exactly after the demonstrative duel. But Dooku couldn't figure out what exactly was bothering him.

***

Barriss Offee was sitting quietly in the library, her head modestly bent over some text. Although she had not been a youngling for so long, even more than Santal, she already dreamed of the times when she would become a padawan, and then a knight. It is obvious that her teacher is most likely to be mirialanka. This is the tradition. Created in order for the teacher to pass on the experience to the student.

The girl also imagined how she would travel, discover something new, unknown. It will open a previously unexplored planet, a civilization. This is one of the main reasons why she wanted to be a Jedi. She also planned to spend her evenings studying ancient texts. From her point of view, this is a very exciting activity.

Perhaps she will do this together with Santal. And what? She liked this girl with her thirst for knowledge. He likes to read, so there will be something to talk about.

But with a lightsaber, things were bad. The young mirialanka could not even hold a sword properly. But maybe someone will help. Two days ago, she still didn't think, but now it seems to her that a couple of additional lessons still wouldn't hurt. Mara also said that he would like her to be a little more cheerful, smile more often, laugh. Well, Offi tried to behave like that. It's not working out very well.

In the meantime, she will allow you to help with the sword. Here Tutso Mara volunteered.

***

Santal still plucked up the courage and told her fellow clansmen about her birthday. After much thought, I finally decided that there would be no harm to her from disclosing this information.

Almost everyone reacted, as the Jedi daughter expected, with a smile. They started congratulating me.

— Why didn't you tell us?" - Max was "offended".

And Santal didn't answer. She wanted to laugh. And she didn't care that she didn't receive any gifts that day. The main thing is the attention that was given to her. The members of the clan showed that they care about her.

Until the evening, the children had fun, chatted about various things. Santal mostly just listened.

The next morning at breakfast, Santal had an idea. Write letters and make peace with Landa. The second did not work out, because they did not meet in the dining room somehow. Apparently, it so happened that one of them came earlier. Maybe they were separated for a split second or something else.

Well, nothing. She will meet with Landa in the classroom. He will have time. Yes, and she will have time to write letters. Namely, my aunt and uncle. She knows the address. And even if they don't read, it will at least make it easier for her.

And she will also write a letter to that uncle. The only bad thing is that she doesn't know his name and address where he lives. But she will write anyway, and then she will find someone who will pass it on. The main thing is to write.

And now in the evening Santal was coming from class, wanting to retire to her room and start writing. I left the classroom, decided to go to the library, but decided to take a longer path.

Santal still studied the corridors of the Temple and other nearby places at her leisure, even though she had lived in it for quite a long time. Just because she was interested in it. It is interesting to walk in such a peculiar maze. It's always so exciting to go back and forth, right and left and guess where the exit is, where the road will lead you.

So, Santal Sabura was distracted by the windows before entering the library. Or rather, the views that open from them.

Almost all Younglings did not know life outside the Temple until they became padawans. But not Santal. She, by virtue of the circumstances, saw the world, at least a little. I managed to visit other planets. I saw houses, and sand, and the sea, and grass, and trees. That's why she was so attracted to the windows of the Temple, showing life on Coruscant. Cars flying at great speed. Houses, lights.

On this planet, urban "Coruscant" life reigned around the clock. Santal had already taken a bite out of it. And, of course, she wanted more. Last time, she definitely looked at a couple of levels. This is great, but I would like to see the whole city. All levels. From top to bottom.

Having seen enough, Santal still forced herself to tear herself away from the window and continue her way to the library, or at least to her room. She turned her head to the left and stopped dead.

Master Dooku was standing by the window, apparently also admiring the view. Santal was surprised and delighted. Plus, it felt like going to the toilet downstairs. The girl did not believe her luck. She kept putting off meeting this Jedi, and then he met her himself. Unbelievable! There are coincidences!

Santal froze, afraid to move. She knew that such a chance could not be missed, and therefore she did not want to make a mistake terribly. It is very important for her now to think about where to start a conversation. It would be easier if everything depended on her, but no. Her interlocutor will be a man much older than her, and therefore smarter. His questions also determine which way the dialogue will turn.

It seemed to the girl that a lot of time had passed, and she was already beginning to be afraid. She already wanted to take the first step, giving out a banality in the form of a simple greeting. It was too simple, but it couldn't be better, and she felt that there wasn't much time left. Santal didn't care anymore, as long as she didn't keep silent.

"Hello," she said softly, but so that she could hear herself clearly.

The man turned and looked at her. Santal was already at the limit, because the master's gaze was strict and serious. But calm, without malice.

***

Dooku, in search of a source of excitement, decided to air out and take a walk, at the same time observing what was happening outside the Temple windows. At such moments, he always remembered his home planet Serenno. His parents, his sister. They have all been gone for a long time, but Yan Dooku still remembered them.

The man perfectly remembered how his sister gave him a comlink to communicate. He remembered coming to his mother's funeral, where his father yelled at him and even beat him.

All this was already a long time in the past. It's time to forget and move on. That's what Jedi usually do. And Dooku did the same. But still, sometimes I was nostalgic for the past.

After wandering for about half an hour, Dooku decided to make a stop at one of the windows, and after a while he suddenly realized that he might now find the source of excitement. It began to seem to him that there was someone nearby, and this someone was either afraid to take the first step,or waiting for him to start.

After waiting for quite a long time, Dooku got tired of this, and he decided to look at the one who is next to him. I turned my head to the right and saw...

A little human girl. Ordinary appearance. Nothing special. But what really caught my eye was that the girl, although frightened, did not lower her head, but continued to look. Amazing.

***

"Yunling, what are you doing here so late?" The master asked the girl sternly.

Santal was even more scared because she intuitively understood that the further conversation depends on what she will say. My tongue was numb.

- I was ... going to my room. But first I wanted to go to the library, take it to read, - it seemed to Santal as if someone was speaking for her with her mouth. And she was even grateful for it. The necessary words pop up by themselves.

- I see, - Dooku turned around and went to the left side.

And Santal stood confused, not knowing what to do - to rush after her, not knowing what else to say (and she really did not know and did not understand), or to go where she originally intended.

While she was thinking, the master had managed to get far away. Santal wanted to catch up, but thought: what will she say to him at all? Just facts and compliments. This begs the question: and what?

- You fought so hard.... It was so... Great... I heard that you were a student of Yoda himself... Santal suddenly uttered aloud in one breath.

- Thank you, - Dooku heard even at this distance, turned around and walked on.

Santal, feeling a little relieved, quickly ran to the library and went to her room.

And after some time, the Santal clan received a real surprise. When the children entered the classroom, Master Yoda was already waiting for them.

- Max, hand out the swords. They are in the drawer on the left.

Everyone was shocked. They finally began to be trained to wield a lightsaber! And Max asked, worried:

- Are they real?

The other Younglings laughed. Yoda giggled.

- We will study the training ones. So that you don't get hurt, but learn the basics.

We started with the simplest movements. And the first discovery that the daughter of the Jedi made was that only the hilt of the sword has weight. Because of this, there were difficulties when performing exercises. Without feeling the blade, you can turn it in the wrong place and burn it-fortunately, not so much.

Anyway, the first impression is always unforgettable. Santal was sure that even if many years passed, she would still not forget how she first took a lightsaber. Let it be a training one. It's simple.... I can't put it into words. The daughter of the Jedi was sure: instead of choosing the right words, you should just let her hold this beautiful thing, the symbol of the Order, in her hand. Only then will it become clear what sensations are entering the brain at this moment. How an unprecedented feeling spreads through the whole body in different streams.

Another good news for the girl was that Yoda will teach. The one she respected the most. She even came up with a nickname for him - the Wisest.

"You should always rely on your feelings in everything," the grand master said, and Santal tried to absorb every word like a sponge.

Throughout the training, the girl stood up in different poses, then in one position she held a small sword, then in another. And so far it has worked out well. Everyone has.

It is not surprising, because so far, being younglings, children were taught only the First, the easiest, form of combat.

But then, as it should be in such cases, it became more difficult. One day, Yoda announced at the beginning of the lesson that the lessons would change. Now the younglings will learn to perform slightly more complex acrobatic tricks with somersaults, jumps, and so on. Of course, they have done this before, but from now on it will be a little more difficult. Plus, a sword is added. Not just training different stands and swings, standing firmly on your feet - now the type of exercise "sword plus acrobatics" is added. For example, you will need to jump up and make some movement with a training sword.

That's when Santal started having big problems. The old fear returned. She was afraid of tumbling, jumping or anything else before, because she was afraid of falling, of getting a fracture. I didn't want to disfigure myself. I was afraid of damage forever.

Although such serious injuries had never happened to the girl, she still did not want to experience such sensations on herself. That's why I was afraid. Each time losing faith in their own strength.

It is very strange that most of her fellow clansmen did not experience such problems. They calmly did what they said, without fear of consequences. Especially Max. Santal immediately realized: let him go, he will only be engaged in physical training all the time.

But they were also timid, like her. Svante was afraid, but he tried to do it. Justin was careful, but he tried anyway.

One day Santal got tired of all this. I thought, others are not afraid, they do it somehow. And what about her? Like it's worse than the others? As a result, at the next lesson, I was so brave that I tried. Unfortunately, it was unsuccessful.

The girl was hurt - not much, of course, but it was still a shame. Especially when the others laughed softly. Barely able to wait until the end of classes, Santal ran out of the room unnoticed, carefully watching the fellow clansmen and the master. Fortunately, no one stopped her. Although the girl still thought that Yoda knew everything, but decided to keep silent. Probably, everything was already clear, so there is no need to ask. It is written on the forehead, simply put. Moreover, everything was happening in front of everyone.

Fortunately, it was the end of the school day, and the daughter of the Jedi could safely look for a place to cry. But wherever she went, there was either at least someone everywhere, or there was just the certainty that someone would appear later. Santal could not imagine any completely secluded places. And suddenly I remembered. The map! We need to look at it more closely.

After a few minutes, carefully studying every detail, the girl found the perfect place. Ventilation! But how to get into it there? There was a ventilation vent in her room, but to get there, you need to jump high, which Santal was afraid to do, and did not know how.

I had to look elsewhere. Finally, the Jedi daughter found a place where the passage to the ventilation system opens low, so that she could push the hatch back there, climb in and close it again.

At that moment, Santal realized that the desire to cry had decreased a little, but the desire to hide deep inside had not. So it took a long time before the girl got tired. She walked for a very long time through the newly opened new maze. I went through a lot of turns, a couple of times I found abysses with giant fans and ran away in fear, because I was afraid of heights, until I found the perfect dead end, sat down in a corner. There, Santal Sabura finally gave way to tears.

***

"It looks like I'll have to accept it, although I don't want to. I hope Nobi is right, and Santal is fine, studying and all that. He lives in excellent conditions. Oh, why did I say that?! Oh, if only everything could be turned back. I wouldn't be in such a hurry. Maybe I had a chance to convince him to come back, and I missed it. Although our niece has never lived on her own before, Nobi believes that she adapts quickly. And we will think about her all the time while she is studying.

But I'm sure she'll forget about us. We took care of her, and she will forget. And when Santal grows up, she will suddenly remember, most likely, and will come to our common grave. Because by this time we will die of loneliness and not being needed by anyone. How are we going to live now? For what? How are we without you-eh?"

Elina Sabura gave way to tears, and then went to prepare the table. That evening, for the umpteenth time, the table was set rather sparsely. Just two plates and two glasses. The wonderful niece of Elina and Nobi did not have lunch with them anymore.

***

Shrinking into a ball and being very upset not only because of today, but also because she was in such a situation because of that kidnapper, Santal did not immediately notice the presence of another Jedi.

- Hi there. What happened? Why are you crying?

The daughter of the Jedi really did not want to show a tear-stained face, because she did not even move her ear. However, the young guy, as she understood from his voice, had his own opinion on this matter. Suddenly, the girl felt a hand on her shoulder. It was impossible not to turn around here.

Santal turned around. Very close to her, to her right, sat a really young guy with brown hair and gray-blue eyes. The look is very attentive and sympathetic. In other words, he is filled with a desire to take part in someone else's trouble.

- What's your name? the girl asked, sobbing.

"I'm a trainee padawan. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

#Cad Bane #cad bane x oc

21 notes · View notes

spiderman-homecomeme · 3 years

Photo

nuts about you

It’s simple. Thirty days. All of November. No nutting allowed. Can Peter survive? A friends/roommates to lovers tale of stupid bets, sabotage, and most important of all, nuts.

thotumn. day 11. free prompt day finale.

Thank you @spideysmjs for organizing this magical month for us!! Because I am TOO impatient, I’m posting this a day early (also to keep my tradition of not posting things at the right time). Enjoy this purely goofy adventure.

Of all of the stupid ideas Peter and Ned have thought of in their ten-plus years of friendship, this one’s up there.

Easily in the top three.

No, it’s more than stupid. It’s ridiculous. It’s pointless. No one in their right mind actually thinks this is a good idea or that there’s any reason to do it. It’s an internet joke that’s too old, a meme that has no right being funny anymore. It’s run its course, and the guise of it raising awareness for anything other than the masturbation habits of penis-havers is complete and utter bullshit.

Again. It’s stupid.

Still, Peter Parker is not one to turn down a challenge, no matter how stupid. He’s nothing if not competitive. What can he say? If he won’t do it, who will?

This is what he considers as Ned lays it on the table for him.

All of November. Thirty days.

Peter doesn’t know how the conversation even started or how they ended up betting against each other in the world’s most moronic challenge. All he knows is that Ned is more than convinced that Peter is weak and won’t last. In fact, he’s so convinced that he’s willing to bet money on it. His reasoning ends up being that Peter isn’t strong enough.

And Peter? Well, he’s convinced that he will make it, that he can survive an entire month without giving in to his desires to bust a nut, to beat his meat, etc. etc. And he, too, is willing to bet money—a stupid amount, maybe more than a hundred—on his own success and his friend’s failure. He doesn’t want to appear too cocky, but he’s more than a hundred percent sure he’s got this in the bag. Yeah, it’s thirty days of cutting out one of Peter’s favorite pastimes—if not the favorite—but there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s more than capable of practicing a little restraint.

Still, confident as he is, there’s still that part of him that can’t help but dread the coming month the more and more he thinks about it.

“So, definitely thirty days?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in thought. He tries to appear casual, as if the idea of no release for that amount of time isn’t a big deal. It’s more for clarification. “November has thirty days?”

Ned scoffs. “Yeah. Thirty days.”

“Any strikes? Any free coupons?”

“Nope.” Ned shakes his head with a soul-crushing finality. “Why? You don’t think you can make it?”

It’s Peter’s turn to scoff, face scrunching dramatically as he recoils. “What? No. I’m worried about you, man. What are you gonna do about Betty?”

Ned fixes him with a deadpan stare, clearly not buying whatever bullshit Peter’s trying to peddle. “A bet is a bet. She will respect that.”

“How can I trust you, though?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing in slight accusation. “You’re always at her place. I mean, how’ll I know you’re not lying?”

Ned glares. “How can I trust you?”

Peter sputters, desperately thinking of ways to throw a reverse Uno at this situation. “Wha—I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m—I’m single, man.”

Ned blinks. Once. Twice. “Do we need to talk about Felicia?”

“That was—”

“Cindy?”

“Dude—”

“Johnny? Jessica? Gwen—”

“I get it. I get it—”

“Carlie? Oh—Debbie? Caleb! Then there was Angela—”

Peter’s expression contorts into one of confusion. “Angela?” He tilts his head, squinting, searching for any kind of memory.

“Cute red head. You met her in line at Aldi.”

“Ahhh…” A knowing, borderline too-telling smile of recognition pulls at Peter’s lips. “Angela...” he sighs, almost dreamily. Okay, so maybe Ned has a point. But just because Peter enjoys the company of other people so much that he’s got his own version of Mambo No. 5, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of living without the warm touch of another human being or his hand.

Peter freezes, glancing at his friend. “Okay. Well. What do you want me to do about that? It’s not like I’m gonna call any of them up or anything. I have some sense of self-control.”

Again, Ned blinks.

“And besides, Felicia was freshman year… she’s our friend now. I don’t hook-up with her anymore.”

Another blink. “Dude.”

“Fine.” Peter huffs, whipping his phone out, eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets and onto the floor as he starts swiping through his contacts. “But I’m not deleting any of ‘em, okay?”

“Peter…”

“I’ll change their names! How ‘bout that?”

A beat passes of silent, overtly-judgmental staring on Ned’s part. He huffs after another second, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine.” Then, his frown shifts into a nonchalant smirk. “Whatever makes it easier for you to lose and me to win.”

“Please,” Peter scoffs. “I’m not the one with a girlfriend. You’re going down.” He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, lips pursed in mock-contemplation as he points a finger. “Or I guess… Betty’s the one going down.”

Ned nearly chokes on his water holding back a snort. “Come on, man.”

Peter shrugs.

“Okay, well, are you gonna change the contact name for your right hand, too?”

It’s Peter’s turn to spit out a laugh.

But before he can even come up with another totally awesome comeback, he hears the jingling of keys, the clanking of locks as their roommate comes home after a long day of classes. All he sees is a flash of her curly hair before he’s tearing his gaze away from the front door, suddenly finding the pads of his thumbs to be pretty damn interesting.

“Hey, MJ,” Ned greets casually, as if they weren’t just sorting out a bet where neither of them are allowed to orgasm for an entire month.

“‘Sup.” Michelle flashes them a brief, closed-mouth grin as she makes for the refrigerator, swiping up some baby carrots and the brita filter.

Really, the conversation from earlier should be done there. Nothing else needs to be said. Especially not in front of their roommate.

But Peter can’t help himself.

“Let’s shake on it,” he says, putting his hand out, knowing that the more he keeps talking, the more danger he’s in of saying too much.

Ned takes it readily, eyes narrowed in determination. “Let’s.”

The corner of Peter’s lip twitches upward, but he holds it back. “No… Peanuts.”

“No walnuts.”

They have that understanding, speaking in the code that the two of them have just made up on the spot, something that Peter can’t help but feel pretty damn proud of.

MJ glances between the two, carrot half-way to her mouth, frozen in place, brows pinched in suspicion.

“Peter and I are giving up all nuts for the next month,” Ned says proudly, answering the question that she most certainly did not ask.

“Cool.”

Ned throws a not-as-subtle-as-he-thinks-it-is wink across the table, giving a just as subtle thumbs up from behind one of his stray history books.

Peter nods.

“Why?” Michelle asks, her question—one that shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise at is was—causing them both to exchange wary glances.

There’s a silence that follows, one that might clearly show that these two guys have no idea what kind of hole they’ve dug themselves into. Ned watches Peter expectantly. Peter glares back.

“Is it like a health thing?” MJ offers, popping another carrot into her mouth.

Peter nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Health stuff.” His stomach flips when her gaze meets his, her eyes squinting as she chews thoughtfully.

“May thinks Peter might have a nut allergy,” Ned hastily spits out. When both sets of eyes land on him, he laughs. “So his allergist suggested going a month without ‘em. To see if that makes it better.”

And honestly, Peter thinks that’s a pretty damn good save.

The best part is that MJ seems to buy it. She nods. “So why are you doing it, Ned?”

“Solidarity,” Ned offers quickly.

Nice save.

“Ah,” MJ purses her lips, though she still doesn’t seem to care all that much. “Well, good luck. I guess. I know how much you guys… love… nuts? I guess?”

Peter nods solemnly.

When she turns back to grab a cup from the cabinet, he throws Ned a quick single nod.

Well played.

“So, Peter’s doing no nut November.”

Felicia nearly chokes, snorting as she struggles to keep her vanilla latte in her mouth. “What?” She asks after a dangerous second. They were supposed to be having a nice study sesh, reading about Bloom’s taxonomy, not talking about Peter’s nut habits.

“He and Ned made a stupid bet to see who could last the whole month,” MJ answers, taking a quiet sip of her London Fog. “Apparently they bet a lot of money on it.”

Felicia’s face scrunches in amused confusion. “Why?”

“Do they really need a reason to do dumb shit?”

Considering that for a second, Felicia nods with a satisfied frown. “Fair.”

“I bet against Peter, though,” MJ continues. “After he left, I made Ned let me in on it. There’s no way Pete can last the whole month, right? Not even a week.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Felicia vehemently shook her head. “I honestly feel like he’d spontaneously combust after, like, a day.” Then, she lets out a quiet snort. “Combust a nut.”

Michelle wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“But for real. He’s not gonna make it.”

“That’s what I said. Ned seems to have some faith in him though—no idea why. I told him that Peter wouldn’t even last a week… and now I guess I’m involved.”

“This would be so easy to sabotage though.”

“Right?”

“Seriously,” Felicia snorts. “All I’d have to do is hit him up one more time and he’s gone.” And then, in that next instant, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “That’s it!” Before she says anything else, she’s pulling her phone out, quickly scrolling through, looking for God knows what. “Girl, I am gonna win that bet for you.”

MJ leans forward, curious, yet still cautious. She’s not sure if Peter hooking up again with Felicia is the best idea, given that relations within the friend group would just make things a giant, tangled up mess of complicated awkwardness. “How?” Michelle dares to ask, craning her neck to see what the hell Felicia’s doing on her phone.

Her friend is quiet for a moment, locked in concentration on her screen, bottom lip tucked between her teeth, brows knit together. Then, she cracks a satisfied, sly smile, turning her phone to show MJ just what she was looking for.

Simply; a picture of Felicia’s relatively new tattoo which, in and of itself, doesn’t seem like it would get Peter’s peter going. It’s pretty. Floral. Nothing to lose one’s mind over.

No, it’s more the placement.

It’s a tasteful shot, the simple flowers lining the underside of her breasts, her hands acting as makeshift pasties, just barely covering her nipples.

Still, though there’s no actual nudity, it’s enough to make MJ’s eyes bug out of her head for a moment before she’s realizing what she’s looking at.

“Okay. So?” Michelle waits for an explanation.

“I send him this,” Felicia says simply, pulling her phone back and (seemingly) drafting up the very message. “Ask if he wants a closer look at it.”

Michelle considers it a moment, knowing that there’s a very strong chance that Peter could almost immediately fall into such an obvious trap. The corners of her lips twitch into a casual frown. She shrugs. “Honestly. Yeah. That might work.”

“Might?” Felicia almost scoffs.

“You’re a genius.”

A smirk tugs at Felicia’s mouth as she leans back in her chair, swiping up to send the message before putting the phone down on the table. “I know.”

They sit in silence, the two of them watching the screen with bated breath. They both gasp when the read receipt pops up, followed by a dead silence. MJ can only imagine how stressed that boy must be, opening his phone, thinking it’s an innocent text from Felicia, then BAM, he’s vibe-checked by her boobs instead.

She holds back a snort, her stomach jumping into her throat seeing the dot-dot-dot pop up at the bottom of the screen. It’s almost as if she forgets to breathe, waiting to see what he’s going to say to such a blatant come on.

It’s like he’s typing a damn novel with how long it’s taking him though, and Michelle’s not sure she can take it much longer.

And then, her phone dings.

Felicia’s lips pull into a frown reading the message. “‘Wow. Looks cool! No thanks, though.’ Aaaaand,” she spins her phone for MJ to read it. “Thumbs-up emoji. Smiley face with sunglasses.”

Even MJ’s surprised at that response. Maybe Peter is really taking this No Nut November thing seriously. Maybe he’s not as weak as she thought. But… it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing’s adding up.

And with this confusion, there’s a sense of relief, knowing his response. Waiting wasn’t fun.

“Huh.” Felicia sighs, biting her lip in thought as she starts typing out another message and sending it.

“What did you say?” Michelle asks.

“I told him I’d been thinking about getting my nipples pierced and wanted to know what he thought.”

At that, Michelle snorts. “You’re an evil woman.”

Felicia shrugs innocently. “I think he’d really like ‘em.”

Truly, it’s a genius move. It’s something that Peter has to address; Felicia’s nipples. The idea of them being pierced. It’s too much for his brain to handle.

And again, just like before, they get into a staring contest with the conversation, watching as the read receipt pops up again, immediately followed by the ever-cruel ellipses as Peter no doubt struggles with a response that’s not too-eager.

But then, he completely throws them for another loop.

“‘I support you, friend!’ with…” Her eyes narrow. “A smiley face.”

“Wow,” Michelle says, genuinely surprised.

And Felicia seems just as shocked, if not a little offended that one of her oldest tricks in the book seem to have no effect whatsoever. “Did he just… friendzone me?” She asks, absolutely appalled.

“You were already friends before?” Michelle laughs.

“But in this context?” She huffs, shaking her head. A beat passes where all she does is stare at her phone. “That’s weird,” she says slowly, lips quirking into a confused frown. “Huh.”

“There, there,” Michelle deadpans, patting her friend stiffly on the hand.

Felicia laughs. “It’s fine…” She draws out. “A hit to the ego is good for me every once in a while.”

“Oh my God,” MJ rolls her eyes. “You’re still hot. Don’t worry.”

With a sad, a little over-dramatic nod, Felicia’s frown deepens as she pretends to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah. I am.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t work,” MJ muses. Really, she can’t. Peter’s perhaps the easiest person she knows—and there’s nothing wrong with that at all; it’s just a fact of life. The sky is blue. Grass is green. Peter is a thot.

“I guess he’s really following through with this whole no nut thing…” Felicia’s brow furrows as she recoils. “How much money did he bet anyway?”

“A hundred.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“How much did you put in?”

“...A hundred.”

“MJ!”

“Listen!” Michelle reasons, holding her hands up in defense. “This is gonna be the easiest two hundred dollars I’ve ever made.”

Felicia sits back, clearly impressed. “Does Peter know you’re in on it?”

“Nope,” MJ says, emphasizing the ‘p’ with an audible pop.

“Well—” Felicia starts, shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “—I’m sure you’ll find some way to make that boy give in. Sorry I couldn’t help.”

Michelle lets out a light snort. “It’s okay. You tried.”

“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

But honestly, MJ already has a vague idea of what her next step is.

And it brings her to his bedroom, to his desk, messing with his laptop while he’s out for his Sunday patrol. His password is entirely too easy to guess—really, you’d think a guy as smart as Peter would have something a little more complicated than “webshooter69.”

If there’s anything she knows about Peter—maybe a little too much about her friend—is that while he mostly enjoys the company of a flesh and blood human being, he’s not above the occasional perusing of adult websites.

The guy likes porn.

The plan is to make his chrome homepage one of his regular sites. Confront him with the images that really get him going.

She browses through his history, hoping that he hadn’t thought to delete everything or go incognito. And… luckily for her, that particular idea seemed to have slipped his mind entirely. Literally not even a week out and she’s found a slightly-more-than-nefarious-looking website.

Easy enough.

And it’s exactly what she’s looking for. Nudity galore. There doesn’t seem to be a corner of the site that doesn’t have a boob or a butt. It is truly Peter’s domain.

For a moment, she wonders if she should make the homepage specifically something he searches for… his favorite genre perhaps.

She shakes the thought away immediately. It’s too invasive. Besides, the front page should be more than enough—there’s literally a video that frustratingly autoplays every time she goes back to that one page. And why would she need to know what Peter likes? There’s no reason for that. At all.

Making sure to close out of everything before logging out, she slams the laptop shut, sprinting out of his room as if he was just about to get home. Her heart races as she slams her own bedroom door behind her, catching her breath proving to be more difficult than usual.

And now, she waits.

It turns out, she doesn’t have to wait very long.

That evening, in fact, after Peter’s come back for dinner.

He takes his time microwaving his leftovers from the day before, whistling to himself as he bounces around the kitchen. The whole time it feels like MJ’s just holding her breath, anticipating his early demise the instant he opens up chrome on his laptop. And honestly, this does feel like a low blow, like she’s just snatching up that low-hanging fruit—God, MJ, phrasing—but then she’s reminded that this, again, is the easiest two hundred dollars she will ever earn.

And then she feels a little less bad about what she’s done.

The second he’s finished with his food and disappears into his room, her eyes are on his door, and then it occurs to her that there’s not really a way that she can know he’s, well, “lost.” It’s all based on his own honor, if he’ll admit to succumbing to his most basic need. She likes to think that he would, though. Peter’s too much of a good, honest guy—hiding his secret identity aside—that he couldn’t lie to his friends about it.

Ned comes home not two minutes later, deflating on the other side of the couch.

“Rough day?” MJ asks, the teasing hint to her tone not going unnoticed.

Ned rolls his eyes. “Told Betty I was doing this whole month thing.”

MJ winced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckles.

“Well, if it helps, this whole thing is probably gonna end in—” she checks her phone. “—five or so minutes.”

Ned’s gaze darts right and left. “What… What do you mean?”

Before she can answer, Peter yelps from the other side of his door. There’s a loud crash that sounds suspiciously like a laptop being yeeted across the room in a hasty, knee-jerk reaction. Before either she or Ned can move, Peter’s bursting through his door, eyes blown wide, his face drained of all color, and he’s frozen in place, one hand gripping the doorframe.

And it takes everything in her not to grin. “Everything okay?”

Peter coughs, scratching the back of his neck, before his gaze lands on Ned in a challenging glare. “DUDE. Not cool.”

Poor Ned looks as confused as ever, his jaw dropping, brows pinching together as he glances between the two. “I—What—what are you talking about?”

Peter narrows his eyes even more.

“Did I hear something break?” MJ asks carefully, as not to seem too suspicious.

He startles at her voice, sputtering out a response that mostly sounds like the macaroni glue art of sentences. “Oh—uh—no. It—It was the—the laptop. There was—a thing. And—I just kinda—threw it.” He laughs nervously. “It’s fine though. Not—not broken. All good—” He throws some finger guns. “—in the hood.”

Her lips twist as she nods.

Peter nods back, hands in his back pockets as he starts to retreat back into his room—though not before throwing another I’m watching you glare at Ned.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Ned’s in full interrogation mode.

“MJ, what did you do?”

She shrugs, toying with the loose thread of her hoodie. “Nothing much. Just… Set his default homepage to some porn. No biggie.”

Ned’s jaw drops, thoroughly scandalized, but there’s a hint of amusement behind his eyes. “Dude… That’s evil.”

Michelle gives another shrug.

So, her second plan had failed. Even after surprise-porn, Peter’s still in the running. He’s still holding out. Almost a two days into November, and he is surviving, a surprise to everyone involved, and already, MJ’s running out of ideas. Well, good—plausible ideas. There are plenty of ways she’s sure she could compromise him. Take him to a strip-club maybe, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d be able to pick up on what she was doing. There’s no way he’d fall for it.

Hiring an escort was definitely out of the question.

Theoretically, both of those could work. Were they good plans? No. Absolutely not.

He’s already turned down a previous hook-up. He broke his laptop out of the sheer panic that seeing porn brought him.

There doesn’t seem to be much more that she can do.

It’s not until the next day, as she’s walking the clothing section of Target with Felicia that she’s struck with an idea.

Felicia specifically striking her with said idea.

They’re in the middle of the sleepwear section, MJ mindlessly rifling through the fuzzy sock bin, when she nearly collides with the underwear display. She’s distracted for a moment, wondering if it’s too soon since she’s bought new underwear to justify taking advantage of the sale, when Felicia nudges her with her elbow.

“Peter’s really into pretty underwear,” she says as if they’re not in the middle of Target. As if there’s not a mom and two kids in the actual pajama section two displays over.

Michelle recoils slightly, startled. “What?”

“He’s like, really into it,” she says, taking a casual sip of her iced coffee, reaching over to pick up a particularly lacy number. “Just saying. Might be useful.”

For some reason, MJ feels a strange heat rise to her cheeks. “I’m not gonna put these on for him!”

Felicia smirks, holding a hand up in defense. “Who said anything about you wearing it? You can just… leave it lying around for him to find, or something.” She tilts her head to the side, both brows raising. “Jeez, MJ.”

“Oh…” Michelle says, though her face still burns. “Right.”

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s pretty good. If Peter’s as into fancy underwear as Felicia says he is, then maybe leaving them around like some kind of weird scavenger hunt is the best plan. She doesn’t buy much, picking a pair of relatively cheap lace and polyester. She could use her own underwear for this, but… that would be weird right?

(As if this isn’t weird enough already.)

And besides, the ones she’s buying are a little more extra in that department. They aren’t meant to be worn for long, not from comfort.

They’re perfect.

She feels like some kind of underwear fairy, planting them somewhere in the apartment, making sure they’re hidden, yet visible in a place that Peter frequents; it sticks up between the couch cushions, not subtle in the slightest. The second Peter’s butt hits that couch, he’ll see them. There’s no other way around it.

It becomes another waiting game as she sits in the living chair, knees curled into her chest as she pretends to read quietly. It’s pretend because she can’t focus long enough on any single letter to let her brain absorb anything on the pages. Finally, the front door opens. Peter greets her with a cheery smile, making immediately for the kitchen.

Good. Yes. He gets his after class snack. Important.

Just as she’d planned.

He emerges not two minutes later, bag of cheese crackers in hand as he launches himself over the back of the couch. “‘Sup?” he asks after shoving a mouthful of Cheez-its into his face.

Michelle wrinkles her nose, her eyes unconsciously darting between the guy on the couch and the panties peeking out from the cushions. “Reading,” she offers, brandishing the very unread book.

Peter nods, tearing his gaze from hers after a beat and reaching for the remote. When he sits back, his hand brushes the cheap lace and he pauses, curious as he looks down to see what he touched.

All of this while MJ desperately pretends not to notice.

When he picks the pair up though, his brows pinch together, at first unsure as to what he’s actually looking at. “Uh…”

At that, MJ looks up, seeing right as the realization sets in.

Of course, she plays dumb—by staying silent.

Peter quickly looks to her, eyes wide as if he’s seen a ghost. “It’s—it’s not—these aren’t—” His lips press together as he forces a breath through his nose. “I—Oh god—”

And then, for a split-second, she feels the slightest bit guilty. Is this actually a good plan or is she just tricking him into getting a boner over cheap department store undies? That, and is she technically lying to him by not claiming the offending undergarments? By making him freak out over nothing?

He seems to be having some sort of existential crisis, wondering if these really are from some recent hook-up and the psychological effect of not nutting in three days has caused him to forget.

This was a terrible idea.

She has to put him out of his misery.

“Oh, shit. Those—” Her laugh is breathy, short. “—Those are mine.”

And instantly, Peter drops the thong, as if his hands had been burned. “Oh!” he coughs, his gaze straining as if he’s trying to keep his eyes on her face. “S—Sorry.” He swallows.

“Yeah.” Rising on legs that are shaky—from sitting so oddly in the chair for so long—she goes to snatch up the baby pink lace, clutching it behind her back before Peter can get another look. “Sorry. Must’ve forgot. Uh, when I did… Laundry.”

Peter nods, breathing out a chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah. S’fine.” He waves her off, scratching the back of his neck.

But even after that, Peter still seems off. For some reason, he still doesn’t seem to be able to look at her for more than a split-second. He doesn’t say anything else, sitting in silence, his cheese crackers long forgotten on the coffee table.

Michelle wonders if she should say something else. Break the tension. It’s awkward, obviously, because he feels weird about touching his friend’s underwear. Anyone would, really. He touched something that theoretically would be on her body; something that normally, he thinks is really sexy, or whatever.

After another minute of some good old soul-crushing silence, Peter stands, excusing himself to his room without another word.

Huh. Weird.

It’s the movie night that finally gives her that clarity she’s been looking for; that moment where everything clicks into place, and she can finally see how she’s going to win this.

Ned’s out with Betty, leaving her and Peter alone not for the first time.

She and Peter are sitting on the couch together, her head resting on his shoulder—because that’s what friends do, obviously—the two of them sharing a gray fuzzy blanket. This is a normal occurrence. They’re close enough in their friendship that some occasional cuddling isn’t too weird. Especially given how chilly it’s been lately. And, it’s comfy. Just some nice head-to-shoulder contact.

But later in the movie, when MJ starts to get dangerously sleepy, feeling herself drooping further and further, unable to completely pull herself back to reality. Things are fuzzy, almost dreamlike, as she just pulls herself up from his shoulder, giving up entirely on watching the movie and just grumpily laying down right on his lap, his thigh her make-shift pillow.

This isn’t weird.

It’s normal.

She’s sleepy.

And Peter’s a surprisingly comfy pillow.

Peter doesn’t even have time to ask what she’s doing before she’s just nestling further into his lap. She misses the pure dread and panic that flashes across his face when her head lines up with his head. There’s no safety here. Just a few wrong movements, and she’ll definitely know what’s up. She’ll be an unwitting tourist to Boner City, population: one.

Peter has to do something. He can’t let this continue. Having his best friends head just straight up on his crotch is not helpful in the slightest.

“MJ,” he gently nudges her, grimacing slightly when she just burrows further into him.

He nudges her again, and she grumbles, finally opening her eyes and looking up at him. She puts a hand on his thigh to steady herself.

Peter swallows.

“What?” She asks, not opening her eyes.

“I uh—” Peter can’t seem to speak, trying desperately to come up with some excuse as to why he has to get the fuck out of there. “—I gotta pee.”

She cracks an eye open skeptically. “But I’m comfy,” she emphasizes her point by—once again—snuggling her face into his lap.

Peter’s about to lose his damn mind.

In MJ’s defense, this had started with the best intentions. She truly was just wanting to lay down and sleep on her friends lap—again, a perfectly normal thing—but now… even through the haze of sleep, she’s seeing how much this is effecting him.

It hadn’t occurred to her until now, that she could be the one that makes him “crack.” They’re just friends. Sure, she thinks he’s attractive, and yeah, maybe she’s had the one or two or three sexy dreams about him before (even some soft, fluffy ones), but that doesn’t mean she thinks about him in that way.

He's just Peter.

Sweet, adorable, kinda hot Peter.

Again, she doesn't think about him that way.

But she supposes it makes sense. Really, she should have known before putting her head on his crotch that he might get a little flustered from the proximity, that it might remind him of certain things. It's just the body's physiological reaction to a stimulus; the stimulus being her head. It's simple science.

So then, it would also only make sense for her to take advantage of that physiological response she's able to get out of him. Maybe not right at this second, given she's been a little blindsided by this whole thing. But maybe now she can rethink her gameplan. Now she has access to tools she didn't know she had access to before.

Her own sensuality.

She can certainly use that.

And it's not as if she'll do anything too out there. Just... make him feel the heat—the pressure—just a little bit. Make him sweat.

Felicia's of course delighted by this development, giving her full support in "seducing Parker into busting a nut."

(Her words, not MJ's.)

She'd also said something about how it's about time, but that'd been promptly ignored—mainly because MJ didn't know what the hell Felicia was talking about.

The problem is now, though, Michelle's not exactly sure where to start. After Peter had made a dead sprint to the bathroom the night before, he's been a little more, shall we say, cautious, around her. He bounces on his feet, trying desperately to appear casual, acting as if nothing was weird about their movie night.

She only has three days left in the week, so she has to think.

And fast.

Peter's not sure if MJ's up to something, but he can't help but feel as though she's acting... strange. First, the underwear thing, which made him feel all kinds of flustered and weird, and then her head being dangerously close to his dick. It's a lot. She can't possibly know about this No Nut thing, right? She wasn't there, and Ned wouldn't have told her... right?

Still, he tries to avoid her as much as he can, ready to fly away the second she's in the same room as him.

Truthfully, he's always had maybe the tiniest crush on his best friend. It's faded in and out over the years, especially in their college years. But it's always been there, even if just the ghost of one. And now, he's starting to see maybe how bad of an idea this was in the first place—No Nut November. His roommate is literally probably the prettiest person in the world and he's being constantly reminded of the one thing he definitely should not be thinking about under any circumstances if he wants to win. It's a disaster that should have never happened in the first place. This could have been prevented, he thinks.

He's not sure how he didn't think about that when he'd agreed to do this.

He just knows that he has to do something, though he's not sure what.

But any and all ideas of how to protect himself instantly leave his mind, crashing his brain, when he comes back to the apartment the next day to find it sweltering. He looks at the thermostat, thoroughly confused to find the heater set to eighty. He peels off his jacket, recoiling when the humid air sticks to his skin. It's hot. Too hot. Even for early November. It's not that cold outside.

He's about to call out for his roommates when MJ emerges from her room, and he feels like he has to pick his jaw up from the floor.

Her shorts are too short for it being fall. They show too much of her legs for his eyes to not be immediately drawn to them. Her white tank top is tight against her skin, hugging her form in a way that almost makes him jealous. And then, it's almost too much, too dangerous, when he can very clearly tell that she's apparently decided to forgo a bra for the evening.

"Oh, hey Pete!" She says, as if she's not looking like that.

"Hey—hey. Em..." He clears his throat.

Dear God. It's been less than a week. Hold it together.

"Is it..." Peter swallows. "Is it hot in here? The—the heat? Is it—is it on?"

MJ's eyes widen a fraction.

"Oh, yeah. It is," she replies casually. "Is that okay? I was just a little cold."

"So you turn it up to—" Peter stops, craning his neck to look at the thermostat on the wall. "—eighty-two?"

She glances left and right, as if there's nothing wrong with that temperature whatsoever. "Yeah," she says with a nonchalant shrug, her lips tugging into a frown. After a beat, she lets out a faint snort, apparently finding something particularly funny, before turning to the fridge. She opens the freezer, sighing as the cool air hits her face.

Peter doesn't realize he's staring as she reaches in, pulling out a box from the top shelf. When he sees what's in the box, he knows that his doom is near. It's bright, colorful. It's popsicles. He has to leave immediately if he knows what's good for him, if he has any sense of sanity left. She grabs a crinkling wrapper from inside the box, casually whipping it out. She holds one out to him.

"Want one?" She offers.

Peter can only shake his head, swallowing a near-silent, voice-cracking, "Nope."

And it's at this point, as she shuts the freezer door, as she starts peeling the wrapper off the way-too-phallic popsicle, that he knows he should run. It's not safe here.

But he's frozen in place, trying to burn his gaze into the intricacies of the granite countertops, tapping his fingers in an erratic rhythm.

He's an idiot, for sure, because he looks up at exactly the wrong time, right as she wraps her lips around the tip of the pop, her eyes meeting his for a fraction of a second.

How can it only be eighty-two in here?

Thankfully, he gains some sense, tearing himself away from the counter and going over to actually turn down the thermostat. "Is it okay if I—" He coughs. "—Turn this back down?"

"Sure." MJ doesn't stop him. She wets her lips, hiding her satisfied smirk by taking the popsicle deeper into her mouth.

But again, he makes the fatal mistake of looking at her again, because now... well, now she's just messing with him. She has to be.

No one eats a popsicle like that.

When he thinks it can't get worse, she has the fucking audacity to hum as she pushes it further into her mouth. "This is so good," she says, half-way a moan.

Who actually says that about a fucking popsicle?

It's evil, truly it is, because it makes him imagine her swirling her tongue around it inside her mouth, and suddenly, the tightness in his pants gets even more uncomfortable.

He hurries to somewhere else in the kitchen, pouring himself a nice glass of water. It's still too hot in here. MJ sidesteps him easily, still inappropriately eating—sucking off—her popsicle. And he nearly chokes, because as his eyes meet hers again, she takes the damn thing out of her mouth—he thinks he's safe, but oh no—she slips her tongue out, licking a long stripe up the base, swirling it around the tip before taking it into her mouth again.

"What?" She asks—she fucking asks—when he can't look away.

And unsurprisingly, Peter can't speak. Can't even get a single syllable out.

"Is my tongue red?" She asks, sticking said tongue out that was just seconds before all over the popsicle.

"I'm gonna go hop in the shower," Peter spits out, dropping his water in the sink and making a mad dash to the bathroom, not waiting for a response.

A shower is what he needs right now.

A nice, cold shower.

He needs to take a deep breath. Think of not sexy things. Things that don't make his life out to be a bad porno.

Then, he needs to leave. Hide in the forest. Live among the trees, away from temptation, until November is over. Only then can he be at peace.

That's it!

Trees. Nature. Forests. Cold. Snow. MJ in the snow. Kissing MJ in the snow—NO.

NO.

He slams the bathroom door, leaning back against it. He heaves out a shaky sigh, running a hand over his face in frustration. How he can possibly survive the rest of the month, he has no idea.

MJ has to be messing with him, right? There’s absolutely no way in hell she’s not doing this on purpose. And why? Why is she torturing him like this? What has Peter ever done in his life to deserve this torment? It isn’t fair.

No matter how desperately he wants to take care of the not-so-little problem in his jeans, he holds himself back, clenching every muscle in his body as he switches on a very cold shower. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will the image of Michelle—his best friend and roommate—eating a popsicle out of his mind. It has absolutely no right to be there.

And still, as Peter stands under the stream of freezing water, letting it run down his back and front as he holds himself up with one hand, he can’t help but think that the worst is yet to come. That somehow, someway, MJ would top simulating a blow job on an ice pop. He doesn’t know how she’d do it, but he knows it’s coming.

He must be ready.

Not to MJ’s surprise, Peter avoids her the rest of the day. He keeps his head down, not daring to even glance up at her as he walks past. Weirdly enough, this is a good sign. It confirms her hypothesis that her actions can have some sort of an effect on him. It helps her to know what to do next.

And, well…

She’d be lying if she said it weren’t at least a little bit thrilling.

There’s something deep inside her that finds all of this so interesting, so amusing. She wants to know how far she can go, how hard she can push before he cracks under the pressure. And the fact that it’s her that has all this power over him—it’s certainly a revelation.

But still, even if this is “fun,” she can be professional about this. She would never let it get “too far,” whatever that would be. No, the goal here isn’t to seduce her way into Peter’s pants, but to seduce him—innocently—enough that he just does it to himself.

Her next plan might be a little more unfair, a little more direct, and perhaps a little more daring than the last one.

And—she should add—much more difficult than she had anticipated.

For one, she just can’t seem to get the right angle, holding her phone above her body, making sure to get both the underside of her breasts—a tasteful amount of boob, thank you very much—and the same cheap, pretty pink undies she bought from Target. It’s awkward, tilting and twisting her phone, her thumb just barely reaching the shutter button. The first few shots aren’t anything to be particularly proud of. Too blurry, her arm cramping up from holding the camera up so long. This isn’t something she’s really done before, given she’s never seen the appeal. Why send pics when you could just, you know, show them the real thing?

But for some reason, it makes her heart climb into her throat, makes her face almost unbearably warm.

It’s when she changes her positioning on her bed, finding some nice light filtering in from the early evening sun. Golden hour has always proven to be exceptionally kind to her. She finds a decent pose, covering both breasts with her forearm, arching her back, making sure to get that perfect “booty tooch” that would make Tyra proud. She breathes out in an attempt to cool her heated nerves, parting her lips in a way that’s sure to incite some kind of reaction.

Click.

And then, she’s got the shot.

Okay, technically it’s not a nude, but there’s something about the idea of sending this picture to Peter of all people that gets her stomach twisting in knots.

And as her hand hovers over the send button, her heart hammers in her chest, hesitation holding her still. She takes her bottom lip in her teeth, beginning to wonder if this is the best idea. Her plan had been to send the picture, play it off as some kind of mistake, and hope that he goes to… take care of himself. Sure, it might get a reaction out of Peter—one big enough that causes him to give up this whole no nut thing—but it almost feels as if she’s crossing some kind of line.

Miming a blow job on a popsicle was one thing—one that she can’t decide if she’s proud of or not. That was just a performance. It wasn’t something she was doing to Peter. This—sending him a racy picture when he’s literally in the next room—is a direct interference.

Plus, there’s no telling what this would do to their friendship. It could ruin everything. Catastrophically.

Awkward would be an understatement.

She puts her phone face down on the mattress, avoiding the picture all together, before getting up and pulling on one of her comfy robes.

God, all of this was a terrible idea.

Wallowing in her own self-pity and regret, she flops back down onto the bed, grabbing her phone with the intention of deleting the picture once and for all. It’s still there in the text conversation, just waiting to be sent. She scoffs, shaking her head at herself, only for her heart to stop in her chest when—in her frazzled state—she hits “send” instead of that little “x.”

“SHIT.”

No no no no no NONONONONO.

She drops her phone immediately, wrapping her robe tighter around herself as she scrambles for her bedroom door, nearly tripping over her rug in the process.

Peter’s sitting on the couch, blissfully unaware, when his phone pings. And to Michelle’s utter horror, he picks it up.

“NO!” MJ shouts, jumping on top of him. It’s a futile attempt really, seeing as her best friend—she stupidly forgets—is an actual superhero.

Peter yelps as she pushes him down into the couch, tumbling onto the floor, holding his phone away from her grabby hands as she straddles his hips. “What the fuck—” And while he could push her off of him with a ridiculous amount of ease, he stills, becoming suddenly aware of their precarious position.

“Gimme your phone!” Her voice comes out in a half-plea, half-demand. All panic.

Peter still holds it away from her, his own brand of panic flashing across his features when his other hand naturally falls at her hip. He yanks it away, instead holding her back by the shoulder. “Why?”

It’s also then that he sees what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing.

And in his distraction, Michelle snatches his phone, instinctively throwing it across the room. She winces apologetically when he looks up at her, jaw dropped and brow wrinkled.

“What the hell, MJ—”

“—I’m sorry! I panicked!”

“Why?!”

“I—”

It’s then, as they both stare at each other in shock, that they both realize the position they’re in—but neither of them seem to be able to move away, frozen solid on the living room floor.

Peter can feel his heart beating relentlessly in his ears, his throat suddenly going dry when he notices how tightly Michelle’s thighs are holding him in place. Another problem starts to arise when he sees how her cotton robe is pooled around their aligned hips, his eyes catching the sliver of shiny pink underwear when one side falls back. “What—” He clears his throat, his voice coming out uncharacteristically breathy. “—What was on my… my phone?”

“Uh—” She presses her lips together. “A picture.”

Peter’s gaze drifts lower for a split second, dipping to the exposed dip in her chest, drawn to the rise and fall with each breath. “Of?”

“Me?”

“You?”

MJ breathes out a laugh, glancing down. “I, uh—accidentally sent… You a picture. Well—I meant to send it to you, not that like, it wasn’t for you, but I kinda decided not to send it… and then… I did. Accidentally.”

And even though he’s trying everything in his power to keep his eyes on her face, he can’t help the way they seem to travel lower and lower with each second. He’s confused at first, but then, it hits him, like a train, what exactly that picture was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The air crackles between them, static in their ears. Michelle finds her own gaze drifting lower, lingering on his parted lips, a warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach. She shifts slightly, her breath catching as she suddenly feels the hardness pressing into the inside of her thigh. Peter stares up at her, something in his eyes bringing her closer, inch by inch. The warmth and weight of both of his hands tentatively, slowly moving to her waist causes something to ignite within her, and in a split-second, her lips are on his.

Michelle’s surprised to find herself… well—surprised—at how this kiss doesn’t immediately turn into an all tongue-and-teeth, ripping-eachother’s-clothes-off kiss. It’s sweet. Slow and tender—as if the two of them are savoring it. Nothing like she’d expected Peter to be capable of. Nothing like how he’d painted himself to be from all of his hook-up stories.

And she’s not entirely sure who’s “fault” it is when it turns into more.

It could be the way she’s subtly grinding her hips against his, her body alight with the friction.

It could be how his tongue swipes over her bottom lip, innocently at first.

It could be her soft, breathy whines as one of his hands moves lower to cup her ass, pulling her closer, the new angle against his hardness bringing an indescribable feeling.

And then again, it could be her robe starting to fall off her shoulders—she’s not sure who starts that, but all of a sudden she’s feeling cool air on her skin.

She almost smiles into the kiss, thinking about how easily and quickly this “chaste” kiss had shifted.

And it’s immediately after that thought that she snaps out of it.

“Wait!” She says, pulling back and sitting up—but still staying in Peter’s lap. Before this can go any further, she has to tell him the truth. He has to be able to… back out of it.

Where this sudden sense of generosity’s come from, she has no idea.

He follows, sitting up with her, brows creasing, his expression a concoction of worry and panic. “Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry—”

“No!” She puts a hand on his shoulder after fixing her robe. Her thumb smooths over the fabric of his shirt. “No. It’s… fine. I just…” Surprisingly, she finds herself chuckling, unable to bite back her smile as he looks at her with concern.

“What is it, Em?”

It’s the nickname for her nickname that does it for her. Truly.

“You good?” He asks, wincing as she shifts in his lap again.

“Yeah, uh—” She coughs, trying unsuccessfully to hide the way her lips are twitching violently as she fights her smile. It takes her more than a few moments, the deep breaths she’s taking not doing all that much to help mask the humor in her tone. “—I know about No Nut November.”

At first, Peter’s confused, staring back at her with furrowed brows, his mouth in a cute little ‘o’. He tries to play dumb, maybe thinking that he can get away with one final attempt to save his pride—letting out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, he shrugs. “Yeah, my new diet. Crazy, huh?”

She blinks, blankly staring at him. “Peter.” There’s some amusement there, especially as she pointedly glances down to their current position.

“What?” He asks dumbly.

“Ned told me.”

Peter curses, wincing. “Damn it, Ned.”

“Yeah…” In a strange, very unwelcome bout of insecurity, Michelle removes her hands from Peter’s shoulders, twiddling her fingers together in front of her. “I made him tell me… and I kinda… also made him let me in on the bet.”

His eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What?!”

“We kinda made our own bet that like… If you lasted less than a week, I would get all the money.”

“You didn’t think I’d last a week?” Peter almost takes offense at that, even if there’s merit to her prediction. “Damn, MJ…”

“I mean… I also wanted to win. So… I kinda tried—or I guess have been trying… to sabotage you?”

At that, his jaw drops. “No! Wait—You—What? I—” He stammers like that, his brain short-circuiting as she still watches from his lap. “That was—what? The porn? On my laptop?”

MJ nods, grimacing.

“The… underwear? Just in the couch?”

“Yeah…”

“And you were gonna…” He looks down at her, the cotton robe still just barely tied around her—the journey his eyes make also coinciding with his mouth going dry once again. “...That picture you took…?”

She nods again, looking down at her hands.

“Putting your head on my lap?!” He asks, as if he of all people is scandalized.

“That wasn’t part of the plan. That was kinda what helped me figure out that… I could just… do it myself.”

“Oh my God,” he puts a hand on his face. “The popsicle. The fucking popsicle.”

“That was probably my best work, honestly.”

“That was so cruel.”

And when he laughs, his eyes crinkling, she starts to see that maybe this will all be okay, and a sense of relief fills her chest. “Yeah, sorry. I also had Felicia help.”

“You put her up to that?!”

“Nah. She offered. I felt kinda weird about it—” She says the last part without realizing it, immediately shutting her mouth.

“That’s why I said no,” Peter replies.

It’s Michelle’s turn to be surprised. “What? Really? I thought it was just ‘cause you were so dedicated to this whole no nut thing.”

“I mean, yeah, I was but—” He laughs, reaching a hand up to smooth the curls at the base of his neck. “—I just… felt weird about it. With you guys being friends and all.”

The way MJ’s heart flutters is strange, but not entirely unwelcome. “Why would that be weird?”

“Why did you think it’d be weird?” He throws back, his lips twisting into a curious grin.

And not for the first time when talking to Peter, Michelle feels all knowledge of the English language leave her body. It’s strange, how much confidence she can have while literally dry-humping him on the living room floor, but how scared she can be trying to explain something about how she feels.

She only shrugs.

A beat passes, and still, Michelle can’t bring herself to move.

“So…” Peter draws out after another moment. “All that—” he clears his throat. “—stuff… that was just to win that bet?”

“Well, I mean—yeah?” The look of hurt on his face makes her heart lurch in her chest. She’s quick to correct herself. “But—I… I think maybe that could be a good thing.”

His brows raise in careful curiosity, though he still seems apprehensive. “A good thing?” He asks slowly.

Michelle nods, swallowing. “Uh—Yeah. ‘Cause… If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have figured out that—um… I might—” It’s weird, how frustrating it is that she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say, that her brain seems to have completely abandoned her in her greatest, most dire time of need. And this shouldn’t be this hard. She’s an adult. She’s in her third year of college.

Confessing the feelings that you’ve just realized you have for your best friend since high school should be easy right?

Right?

And she’s only just figured this out. In the last five seconds. That all these years of weird feelings, long glances, warm faces has actually lead to something, they’ve actually meant something other than a weird stomach bug or whatever.

All it took was attempted sabotage during No Nut November for her to realize that.

The power it has.

“MJ?”

His voice grabs her attention; the caution in his tone snapping her gaze to his. And for a moment, she just looks at him, mouth hanging open as she tries to say something, anything. But still, she can’t.

So, she does the next best thing.

She kisses him—again—trying her best to put all of the words she can’t seem to figure out into it. And although he kisses her back—easily—he doesn’t seem to understand what she means, because he pulls away not ten seconds later.

“Listen—MJ—” Peter stammers, running a jittery hand through his hair as he breathes out a huff of laughter. “—I don’t think I can do—” He gestures between the two of them. “—This… if it’s just… casual.”

So, he really didn’t get it, and now, she’s feeling the impatience creeping up her neck.

“I really like you, MJ,” he confesses, and for a moment, she’s not sure if she heard him right, or if she heard him speak at all. Her brain must be playing some nasty, cold-hearted trick on her, because Peter—perpetually single and ready to mingle Peter—just said that he liked her.

God, she feels like she’s a teenager again. It feels so high school, the amount of butterflies in her stomach hearing him say that.

Even more so when she finds herself responding automatically, “I really like you, too.”

“Cool,” he says lamely, his breathless chuckle making her heart flutter in her chest.

He doesn’t waste another second before he tugs her back to him, capturing her lips to his, one of his hands moving to cup the underside of her jaw. She tilts her head, letting out a gentle sigh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue brushes against her lips before slipping into her mouth. The weight of his other hand on her waist is comforting in a way, heavy and solid as he holds her in place.

Truly, she hadn’t expected any of her plans from earlier in the week to come to this.

Instinctively, her hand snakes down to his hips, sliding underneath the hem of his t-shirt and dragging across his stomach, smiling into the kiss as his muscles twitch underneath her touch. It’s then, as her hand dips even lower, palming him over his sweats that he seems to snap out of whatever trance she put him in.

He grabs her wrist—gently, of course—pulling it away and breaking the kiss.

His chest is heaving with each breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in an apologetic smile. “I—I can’t—the… the bet.”

And it dawns on Michelle then, that she’s been cockblocked by No Nut November.

Even though she tries to appear understanding, he must be able to see the disappointment in the twist of her lips, the way she nods quietly.

“But—” He starts, pressing his mouth together into a thin line. He nudges her, pointing his finger as he’s hit with a revelation, talking slowly. “—You’re not… doing… No Nut November…”

MJ lets out a surprised laugh, shifting in his lap as her face warms even more. A beat passes as she stares at him, giving him a chance to take it back. “Are you sure?” She finally asks.

Peter nods quickly, insistently. He’s got this. Clearly. “Oh. Yeah. Definitely. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, she’s not sure how much of that she actually believes.

Probably none of it.

But, that doesn’t mean she’s turning down the offer.

“Okay…” She trails off, unable to bite back her grin at the brief self-doubt that flashes across his features. “What do you—what do you wanna do?” She asks, her face burning, suddenly finding herself the slightest bit tongue tied. It takes everything in her to at least look calm and not like she’s about a half-second away from just jumping his bones.

Or, one in particular.

Peter clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning an adorable shade of red. “Uh—” He huffs out a laugh. “I mean… Whatever you’re comfortable with? I’m cool with whatever you want.”

He’s cool. Okay. Yeah.

She shifts her weight again, biting back a smirk when he inhales sharply as she brushes against the hardness in his gray sweats. “Sorry.” Feeling merciful, Michelle climbs off of his lap, sitting back against the couch, curling her legs underneath her. “Any ideas?”

Though, Peter can’t seem to tell if he’s happy with this new development or not—as hard as it was having her sitting on him. “Um—” And his expression tells her that he does have one. “I could…” He coughs again. “I could go down on you?”

It’s funny, how casually he says it, like he’s offering to give her a ride to the airport, or something. But it still makes her ears ring.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding slowly. She swallows. “That sounds—that sounds good.”

“We should probably—” He gestures to his bedroom door, huffing out a laugh. “—not do this out here.”

“Probably,” she snorts.

The speed at which he scrambles to stand and runs to his bedroom, compared to her somewhat-leisurely pace, makes her let out the most undignified laugh.

A silence falls between them as he shuts the door, the click echoing. MJ takes a moment to glance around his room—literally a single moment, because in the next he’s wrapping his arm around her waist, yanking her to him and crashing his lips to hers. His hands are greedy, twisting handfuls of the soft fabric of her robe, finding purchase on her ass and grinding her against his hardness.

MJ revels in the groan he lets out as she melts into him, her hands winding themselves in his soft curls, twisting and tugging ever so slightly.

He guides her to the bed, pausing to gently lay her back on the mattress before crawling over her, his mouth finding itself on the underside of her jaw, his lips and tongue dragging along the column of her throat. With one hand, he prises her legs apart, happily settling between them while his other fumbles with the tie of her robe.

His eyes meet hers first, silently asking for permission, before pulling the thick string back. His eyes darken as Michelle helps him slip the robe back, leaving her almost completely bare underneath him. He unconsciously wets his lips as his eyes hungrily rake over the expanse of her body—he feels as if the only accurate description for how he feels at this moment being a deer caught in really well-defined headlights.

She thinks for a moment that he’s just going to do this—stare at her—instead of, well, what he said he’d do.

But he doesn’t seem to have that kind of patience. He lurches forward, his mouth hot on her neck, trailing open-mouthed, wet kisses down to her collarbone, her sternum, the swell of her right breast.

She bites back a gasp as he takes her nipple into his mouth, her back arching off the bed as his tongue swirls around it, palming the other with his hand. It’s a sight to see for sure, Peter’s head on her chest, his curls tickling her skin.

His trail continues, back to the dip in her chest, lower and lower, his kisses hot on her stomach, down to her hips, the lace trim of her thong.

Peter sits back on his heels, breathless as he looks down at her. “Fuck—” He curses, drawn to the damp patch in the middle of the soft faux-satin, how it clings to her.

He doesn’t give it another second, hooking his thumbs around the lace and roughly pulling them off of her legs.

He’s diving his head down in the next instant, his lips leaving scorching kisses on the inside of her thighs. He thinks that he can maybe tease her, trying to slow his pace as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him to be.

(Okay, it’s where he wants to be, too.)

He pulls back a little, trying not to smile too much at the disappointed edge in her shuddering sigh. As much as his mouth waters with her so close to him, he controls himself. Kind of. To a degree. He takes a finger, experimentally teasing her entrance, his sweats—somehow—tightening at Michelle’s quiet gasp as he touches her. There, he collects her wetness, coating his finger in her arousal, swirling it over her cunt, around her clit. And he sits there, marveling at how impossibly wet she is already.

Though, it’s not long, probably less than a minute, before his impatience kicks in again.

He thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t eat her out.

Dramatic? Maybe.

Valid?

Who’s to say?

But he can’t help himself, and any thought about slowing down is thrown out the window as he licks a long stripe up her center, his eyes rolling back as he tastes her. He dives right back in, his tongue circling her entrance, lapping her up.

And Michelle can’t help but notice how at home he looks between her legs, how in his element he is as he moves to start sucking on her clit, flicking it back and forth with his tongue as he teases her with two fingers.

His eyes meet hers and she wonders how on earth she’s going to survive this, especially when those two fingers push into her, curling as he pumps them in and out.

“Shit—Peter!” She cries, her back fully lifting off the mattress as he picks up his pace, moaning against her.

Clearly he’s enjoying this, too.

A choked gasp slips from her lips when he slows suddenly, his eyes locking with hers again before picking back up even harder and faster than before. She reaches down, tangling her hand in his messy curls, holding him in just that right spot. Her thighs try to close on him, trapping him in as the coil in her tightens, but his free hand grips her, holding her in place. And she can’t fight the way her hips buck against him as she begins to grind herself against his face.

It builds and builds, teetering just on that beautiful edge, when Peter adds a third finger—and then, she’s seeing stars, her brain going fuzzy as all of her muscles tense, electricity shooting from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She comes with a strangled moan, panting as her body’s overcome with pleasure.

Peter’s movements slow, and he pulls off of her sensitive clit, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, before taking each finger into his mouth, sucking them clean.

MJ sits up on her elbows, her chest heaving with each breath as she watches him—and at that moment, her eyes drawn to the hard line in his sweats, she curses No Nut November again, because honestly, she’s never wanted him to fuck her more, never been so angry at a single month.

He seems to be in the same fire, his expression wrought with the inner turmoil he feels. His eyes screw shut, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ignore how painfully hard he is, how he can feel his dick pulsing already, and how stupidly hot and beautiful MJ is.

His decision’s made before he opens his eyes.

Michelle lets out a surprised yelp as he leaps on top of her, his mouth on hers before she can start laughing. Somehow, his hands are greedier as they explore her body, squeezing and kneading her breasts, her waist, her hips, down to her ass.

None of that’s to say that she’s complaining, though. Peter just ate her out like it was his full-time job, like he was stopping crime as Spider-Man. As far as she’s concerned, he can do whatever he wants right now.

It’s when he starts to take his sweats—and boxers—off that she gets confused, if not a little too hopeful.

“What about the bet?” She asks breathlessly when he pulls back.

He holds her gaze, his lips curving into a sly grin. “Fuck the bet.”

If there’s a god, Michelle wants to thank her right now.

Peter’s hands grip her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin as he wraps them around his waist. He takes his dick in his hand, pumping a few times, swiping it down her center, tapping her clit, before Michelle suddenly remembers to use their one collective brain cell.

“Wait—” she gasps. “Condom.”

Peter curses under his breath, hanging his head for a moment, biting his lip. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.”

If she thought he was fast running to the bedroom, watching him scramble through his bedside drawers looking for a rubber is something else. A giggle—a fucking giggle—bubbles up out of her at his relief when he finds one.

He rolls it on quickly, expertly, days of No Nut November clearly not slowing him down.

He’s back on her in the next second, eager as he gathers her arousal and coating himself with it.

They both let out a string of curses as he pushes into her—finally. Peter screws his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as he feels how warm and snug she is around him, almost unable to believe how well she fits him. MJ grips his shoulder, face burning as he gives her a moment to adjust, a moment to take all of him in.

When he starts to move, they both wonder again why they hadn’t been doing this in the first place.

As with everything else, Peter doesn’t waste their time. Even though he revels in how fucking amazing she feels around him, how he can’t even remember the last time this felt so good, so right, he picks up a steady pace, fucking into her like it’s the last chance he’ll get. He hikes her leg higher on his waist, the new, deeper angle causing Michelle to arch her back, a wet moan ripping through her.

“Peter—” She chants his name over and over, unable to say anything else as his hips snap into hers. “Fuck—”

“God, MJ, you’re so fucking good,” his voice is almost a growl, lower and more desperate than he’s ever sounded. “Taking me so well.”

Michelle should’ve guessed he was one for dirty talk, though she can’t say she’s surprised.

Or that she minds.

Peter bites back a groan, stilling momentarily as she clenches around him, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He’s already so close, teetering just on the edge, but he’s filled with a sense of determination at the sting of her nails digging into his shoulders.

His hand trails down her stomach, his thumb pressing her clit, scrubbing furiously as he pumps in and out of her. She squeezes him again, head thrown back, slack-jawed as he tilts her hips even further, the new angle causing a string of curses to spill from her lips. Her muscles spasm around him as she comes for a second time, her eyes screwed shut as she clings to him for dear life. His own orgasm crashes over him, and he moans loudly into her skin, holding her to him , fingers digging into her hips as he comes undone.

It’s something MJ can’t help but want to see again. And again.

He flops down on top of her, his head on her chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

Her hand comes to smooth down his curls at the nape of his neck, and she smiles as he shifts his head to look up at her.

“God, fuck No Nut November,” He breathes into her skin.

A light laugh bubbles up out of her.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “What day is it?” He asks.

“November fifth.”

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Damn.” He pulls out of her, standing up to throw the condom away, almost missing the bin in the corner of the room.

“You made it longer than I thought you would,” Michelle laughs.

Peter flops down next to her, his eyes narrowed, though there’s still a smile on his face. “What?”

“Well, yeah. I bet Ned that you wouldn’t last a week,” she replies, patting him on the chest as she gets up, disappearing into the bathroom.

Peter’s eyes widen before he covers them with his hands. “Oh. Shit. Ned.”

He’s still there when she comes back; still naked, too.

“Ned, doesn’t have to know,” MJ says, falling back into the bed with him.

Peter peeks out from underneath his arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can like, pretend you’re still doing it.”

There’s a crooked grin on Peter’s face as he stares at her—a look that makes her insides gooey and heart fuzzy.

And she hates how much she doesn’t hate it.

“And when Betty inevitably breaks Ned,” she shrugs. “We can split the money.”

He shakes his head, amazed and somewhat scandalized. “MJ, you’re a genius.”

Again, she shrugs.

“So, we can keep doing—” He gestures between them, brows raised. “—And let Ned lose. The money’s ours.”

“Right.”

He lamely sticks his hand out, offering for her to shake on it.

“Deal?” He asks.

She kisses him. “Deal.”

#spideychelle #petermj #petermjane #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker #michelle jones #thotumn #day 11 #no nut november #rated: e

58 notes · View notes

pistachoz · 4 years

Text

legally blonde, tenth doctor

pairing: tenth doctor x fem!reader

synopsis: between trips and adventures with the doctor, you finally find the perfect timing to change your look. with no pointless dress codes to follow anymore, you try dyeing your hair on your own, ending up in a string of botched outcomes and unexpected confessions.

wc: 3K

warnings: none, mild cursing maybe??

author's note: oof, this took me more than i expected and it definitely ended up being waaay more. anyway, this is my first piece of writing for the doctor -also in general- and what a better way than start with a fluffy one! i hope it turned out decent! my first language it’s not english, so you can expect some -more like a lot of- writing mistakes.

also, a big shout out to @plxstic-rose bc she has been my biggest supporter when i felt like i couldn’t do this, she has helped me so much ily 🥺 💞

(GIF IS MINE)

A grimace appeared on your face as the sour taste of the coffee filled your mouth, you definitely needed to bring yours the next time you stopped on earth because the alien version of it tasted like stomach bile. You weren't even sure if it had proper caffeine or it was drug-fueled tea.

With a resigned sigh, you put the cold mug in the mirrored vanity table in front of you and checked your phone. Five minutes more and you would be rinsing the red dye out of your shower cap covered hair. You lift the right side of the cap slightly, trying to peek at your tinted hair, the pale red -almost blonde- pigments made your breath hitch in a halt.

Was it supposed to look that light? Oh crap, you should have gone to the salon.

That was actually going to be the original plan. You had been procrastinating changing your look; nothing wrong with the colour and length you normally had but since you started travelling with the doctor, you didn't count with office regulations to follow anymore so you considered shaking up a bit your aesthetic. Yet, it seemed as you could never stop to take a breath and the times you did, was always on strange-named planets where your peaceful state of mind lasted a couple of minutes. So, you took it upon yourself to change your look on your own. You knew it could have any sort of downfall, but you didn't really want to nag the doctor into making a 'short' stop on earth -even though you knew he wouldn't mind- just for a date at the salon. He needed a well-deserved rest after all the uncontrollable lifesaving shenanigans and every time you came back to earth, somehow you ended up enticing some sort of trouble.

Besides, how hard could it be, right?

You barged into the installed bathroom connected to your room and locked the door as soon as you stepped inside. The last thing you needed was for the doctor to burst in looking for you while you were in the middle of this crucial transformation, and even though he was probably too distracted tinkering around the console of the TARDIS, you knew how intrusively spontaneous he could be when he finds something new. It wouldn't be a first to hear him enter your bedroom in a spur-of-the-moment with enthusiastic hand gestures and euphoric rants about alien-y stuff.

You grabbed the light blue hand-sized towel that rested upon the toilet tank and draped it around your shoulders. A jittery feeling building up in the pit of your stomach at the prospect of how your new hair would look like.

You weren't particularly bold when it came to your style, always stuck with what you could call an average look, to be fair, before the doctor, your whole life was just brimming with a never-ending stodgy routine that encased every aspect of your life. You didn't see the point of making more than few changes in your image and it was not like your office let you go too risky either.

This was going to be the first radical change in your appearance, and you were lying if you didn't say a fit of excitement was already bubbling up your throat. You didn't know what exactly had gotten into you, but you were so adamant to do something. Perhaps it was the stockpiled adrenaline from all those adventures catching up on you, perhaps this was something you were going to regret later. Either way, right now, you could only think of how satisfying it would be to finally match your current lifestyle. New and thrilling.

To be completely honest, you were also eager to see the doctor's reaction. Of course, you were not doing this because of him…well, not for the best part, but a piece of you wished it would have some sort of effect on him.

You knew this regeneration was cheekier and maybe you were reading too much between the lines but sometimes you could swear there was something more in all those subtle touches and lingering hugs. The shared gazes that let you wonder if this was just some friendly treatment or if he really meant something deeper made your mind go into a frenzy.

You also knew that appearances didn't really matter to him but the need of looking bolder and more luring was still there. You wanted, for once and for all represent how traveling with him had changed you into someone who would risk more than just a ‘change of look´. You were becoming the best version of yourself and you wanted to show him that in more than one way, but one step at the time.

Warily, you lifted the plastic cap; your sticky hair popping in every direction. Without a prior look, you stooped over the sink and manoeuvred your head under the sprout. After some unsuccessful tries, you managed to open it and began massaging your scalp with your fingertips.

After swilling away the shampoo and applying the conditioner; you grasped the towel laying around your shoulders and swaddled your hair up in a turban.

You straighten your back and stroked your hair through the towel, trying -quite poorly- to pump it dry. You didn't anticipate it to be this gruelling. In fact, you thought this would be some sort of restful hiatus from your general tense state, but apparently, this had drained you more than expected.

Resignedly, you undid the coiled towel on top of you and let your new dyed hair fall freely behind you. The air fell out of your lungs and your stomach dropped when you stared at the sight of your reflection.

You were blonde. Blonde.

What in the name of god did you do? You were so sure you followed every instruction of the flipping tint box in lockstep- well, judging by the results, you obviously had made a mistake at some point, maybe even skipped one, but how catastrophic had it been that you ended up looking like a defective version of a Weasley that had awfully light shrimp coloured hair.

A trembling neigh-like sound left your mouth when you touched the ends of your hair. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't even have any dye left to apply another layer and asking the doctor for help was ruled out. He couldn't see you like this. Nobody could see you like this, for your dignity's sake.

This was all on you. You needed to think of something. Anything.

Hats, of course! The TARDIS must’ve a good stash of those, you knew you could find something in the never-ending wardrobe. That thing was three times bigger than your flat.

Well, problem solved. You were going to use a hat until your hair grew enough to cut it or until you stopped on earth again and got the chance to go to a proper hairdresser.

Good god, who were you kidding? This was a mess.

With shaky fingers, you fumble your way out the bathroom and dashed out of your room, in search for your only resource.

---

"You won't believe what I found underneath the floor panel!" You heard the doctor's elated voice buzzing through your room before he could even fling your door wide open.

All you managed to convey was a muffled hum through your pillowed-smashed face. Too tired sulking the crime you made to your hair to turn around from your current position. Your limp body was sprawled all over the bed; arms and legs stretched at your sides with your face buried deep down the mattress.

Without waiting for a proper response, he roved across your room and resumed his explanation of his oh-so-great discover with a shit-eating grin.

You didn't need to see him to know the already too familiar gestures he was making. You could picture with the most minimal detail how his eyes would sparkle with wonder and how a contagious gleam dotted the signature boyish grin he always wore.

You smiled fondly.

You could still remember thoroughly the first time you saw him in all his glory, ranting about scientific stuff you could not understand and even though you had never seen the man before, the brightness on his eyes and the insatiable curiosity he radiated made you grin almost immediately.

You sat up slowly; grunting when you stretched your arms upwards. You moved your head from side to side, trying to stir yourself up completely awake.

"…So technically, it should be able to make the TARDIS' chameleon barrier unfroze. Well... the possibilities are thirteen out of a hundred, but I-" He stopped mid-sentence when he turned around and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He tilted his head slightly to the side and a puzzled look crossed his face like he was trying to figure out what was out of place with you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Thankfully, you had managed to find a Kangol black bucket hat. It was pretty simple; a small metal fuchsia arrow was stamped on the front and the brim was big enough to fit all of your hair inside. Still It was just not your style. Well, the other option was an animal print floppy one, the type that Lady gaga would wear. So, you had to settled with the e-girl-angsty-teen looking.

"That's new" His left eyebrow quirked curiously.

"What?" Good job; try playing dumb and maybe like that he won’t notice it.

"The hat, I- " he made a circular motion around his head "I don't think I've seen you wear one before"

"Oh, I um- wanted to try something different?" You stated but the wince in your voice made it sound more like a question.

“Right, yeah” he rushed "It's not like it doesn't suit you"

"Right" You fidgeted absent-minded with the hem of your sweatshirt, trying to think of something to break the awkwardness “So… you were saying?”

"Oh yes!" a playful glint overtaking his features “I think I found a way to repair the malfunction on the chameleon circuit and hopefully it will be better than that time I tried a block transfer computation. I was so close, well- not that close but at least I managed to build a part of the outer plasmic shell. Anyways, if we are lucky enough, we could stop travelling around looking like a 'blue box'" he raised his eyebrows, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

“Hold on, didn’t you say it was kind of unsafe?”

"Oh no, don’t worry! It’s danger-free… for the most part, well actually, it’s a 4 out of ten, maybe 5. But I’m sure the old girl can handle- "

A shrilling alarm started echoing through the TARDIS’ walls and you almost fell out of the bed when the floor started shaking uncontrollably. The doctor stumbled upon his own feet and with strained struggle and held out his hand to help you up.

"You were saying?" You muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

With one hand locked onto the doctor's and the other extended to keep balance in the middle of the tremble, you managed to head out of your room. As soon as you stepped outside, you were greeted with red flashing lights going off all around the TARDIS.

"Careful" You heard the doctor called out, his voice barely perceivable. You had to double check to understand his next words "We need to get to the console"

Both of you tried the hardest to advance without falling or tripping over. The din of your footsteps lost in the middle of the shrieking noise. You could feel the vibration of the walls crawling to your brain and rumbling. The longer you spend running, the sharper the dizziness became.

You felt his hand clasp yours tighter when you decreased your speed; a warm feeling squeezed its way through your chest instantly. He looked down at you, a small reassuring smile on his lips; he was going to solve this.

When you finally reached the control room, the doctor leaped his way towards the console. A string of garbled mumbling fell under his breath, which you were more than certain you wouldn’t understand even if he spoke up. You saw him go around the panel, flicking switches and pressing buttons but it didn’t lessen a bit the state you were in.

You stood next to the entrance holding onto the railing for dear life. Maybe you should have been trying to do something useful, but quite frankly you had no clue as to what was going on. And even if you could have done something, there was no way of giving more than a few steps without falling.

After several confused exclamations and scrunched up faces from the doctor, he stumbled his way to the other side of the room and kneeled next to an opened floor tile. He plunged into what used to be a makeshift storage and with a newfound enthusiasm, you heard him shout. "Found it!"

He reappeared back on sight and held a small cassette-looking thing, his hair sticking up in a messier way than usual and a triumphant grin spreading on his features "The resetting format key should be able to stabilize us."

With a quick motion, he stood up but before he could head back towards the console to plug it in, an abrupt shook threw the both of you across the room. You saw the doctor’s figure fall hovering over a coral column next to the panel as you held tight on the railing stronger, attempting unsuccessfully to stand still.

Maybe if you hadn't been distracted watching how the doctor got up and toss his weird-looking key into one of the TARDIS’ inputs, you would have noticed how your apparently well-put-cap was now laying on the floor a few meters away from you. And maybe, if you hadn’t been so awestruck at how quickly the room returned to its normal state with golden cozy lights shining from the ceiling, you would have notice your now-bright blonde hair flowing behind your back without a care in the world.

"Right, so it looks like the TARDIS went into some sort of safe mode." He spoke a little out of breath, arms still hunched over the panel "but it's okay now. Apparently, it was a defense response, she thought it we were under a- "

He turned around slowly but stopped dead on tracks when his eyes landed on you, or more specifically- on your hair. His once furrowed eyebrows were now raised, almost touching his hairline and open awestruck eyes were looking at you like you were an unknown species. A breathtaking unknown species.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Every part of his body was just not responding, it was like he had stopped functioning properly. His unblinking eyes were glued to your face and his agape mouth looked almost comical; you would have taken out your phone in that moment just to snap a picture if your brain hadn’t been dozing off at the reason for his reaction. Because what could possibly- Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You moved your gaze to the ground, eyes falling on the discarded hat near the entrance. You pursed your lips, thoughts running a mile per hour. When did it fell? Why weren’t you careful enough? This was the doctor’s fault. Yeah, all his fault. He had to come with his incredibly soft hair and that flipping sweet smile that made your toes curl up and your heartbeat race like there was no tomorrow. He had to come and distract you, oh and of course, bringing a mess along the way.

God! This was not helping.

“You- um, you are…blonde” Yeah, no shit, sherlock.

“I-…am I?” The breathy words rasping out, your mouth felt as dried as the Sahara and you were surprised a sound came out at all.

“You look-”

“I know” You close your eyes and shook your head, praying to whatever entity out there to swallow you up and throw you to the Bahamas “it wasn’t supposed-“

“I like it” he blurted out “I know you don’t need any sort of validation and I’m not trying to- what I-” He starting flapping his hands around in a cartoon-like gestures “you look stunning… truly stunning; not that you weren´t before. I mean, the colour really does suit you but I’ve always thought- blonde, not blonde, you’ve always been beautiful… Guess what I’m trying to say is that when you love someone, there’s really nothing that can make you look at them differently. Did you know that As’urs considered blonde people holy? Well they would if there were blonde people. Sorry, totally off topic, but they do. Everyone there is blue-haired. And there’s a lot of mystical myths and clergy influence involved but basically everything golden is sacred for them. If we go, they might even crown you as their queen.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could imagine the red alarms in his brain going off, trying to process what fell out of his mouth moments prior and desperately attempting to conjure something up but instead just causing a short circuit in the process. To be completely honest, you weren’t any better.

You felt your heart bumping up your throat and your skin grew hotter and hotter per second. You swore you could feel the maniac rhythm of your pulse piercing through your head and you were quite sure you looked like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the funfair, with eyes nearly falling out of your skull.

Because he didn’t really say that, right? Your mind must’ve been playing some sick game with you. There was no way, he really-

“What?” It was all you managed to muster; your small voice barely hearable.

“Huh?” You saw the redness from his cheek expand through all the visible skin.

“What did you just say?”

“That As’urs would consider you a goddess?” He asked hesitant with a guilty expression.

“No- before that”

“That the blonde hair looks good on you?”

“No! I-“ You took a small breath “Do you love me?”

You could sense the confidence returning to him like a tidal wave, a serious expression overtaking his features, but with a softness you couldn’t comprehend. “I always have”

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you towards him. You stopped when your noses were almost touching and you could feel his hot ragged breath fall on your eyelashes. With hesitation, you placed your hands on his arms and looked up, letting yourself fall on those brown pools you have grown to love.

“Doctor…” you whispered

You had no idea what made you do it, but you moved your hands to his cheeks, and you kissed him. It was impulsive and stupid, and something you’d expect a sixteen-year-old girl do on her prom night. But you did it without a second thought. And for a moment you felt the doctor grow incredibly still, mouth unmoving and eyes wide open, until you placed your soothing fingers on the back of his neck, thumbs caressing and drawing invisibles circles on his sideburns.

And so, he gave in; firm hands grasping your hips and pressing you flush against him. His mouth spilling raw passion and his insides melting at the soft contact of your delicate lips. The tenderness on his touches and intensity of his lips drawing out all those words that didn’t need saying, because you knew. He was so sure you knew.

An involuntary whimper left your lips when he broke the kiss and intertwined his hands with yours. He brought your joined hands nearer and placed a light kiss to your knuckles.

“Did I mention I like your hair?” A husky laugh fell from your lips and your eyes sparkled when he gave you a soft smile that would be imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

When he looked at you with those old eyes that sung you stories in the most beautiful way imaginable and his swollen lips ghosted a smile you knew things were going to be better, with new adventures and new experiences awaiting on your door. And you had the whole time and space at your disposal to face it together.

author's note pt.2: OK that was a lot, honestly the ending got sloppy and there’s probably a lot of bad editing, but I invented a whole new alien species, so hey! kudos for that I guess. anyway, i hope you like it! and as always, feedback would be really appreciated, a comment or a like would mean the world to me! like my description says, requests are open! but It would probably take ages for me to finish it, so please patience. right now I have some more doctor who drafts and also some marvel ones!

-love, rina xx

216 notes · View notes

gloves94 · 4 years

Text

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 4

Warnings: None Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Zuko/OC Summary: “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…” His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

'Dear Mom and Dad,' Her letter began.

'I truly wish there had been a moment to say goodbye, but alas, it is not a goodbye, but a see you later. I was persuaded by the spirit of adventure to embark on this journey with General Iroh and Prince Zuko. I promise you I will be home before you know it. I'll even send gifts home!

I hope you do not miss me as much as I do. What I meant to say is, I miss you already, terribly. Be strong.

Sending my love,

Your daughter Tsai.'

The girl sighed as she lowered her ink brush and sighed waiting for the scroll to dry. Little did she know that her mother would faint upon reading her message. Her father would have to lay down and have some wine brought to his chambers, and Mecha would be the proudest brother in the Fire Nation.

Xxx

Iroh had been delighted at Tsai's change of heart. He had embraced her like the daughter he never had and welcomed her aboard the ship with more than open arms. The entire cabin and crew had been instructed that she was here as an honored royal guest and because of that should be esteemed and treated as such. Prince Zuko on the other hand fumed at the sight of a woman on his ship- not only a woman, but this one in particular. He didn't know what it was about her that irritated him so much. He didn't know if it was her hair color, or the fact that she was now burdening him with her presence. As far as he knew she wasn't even a bender. She would only get in the way. But what bothered him the most-

He glared at his Uncle from across the deck of the ship. He had never looked happier on board. He sat on a small table with the girl. Both of them sipping tea and enjoying a heated game of Pai Sho. The prince seethed. He had watched his uncle play that stupid game hundreds of times and judging from the looks this one was probably the funniest most hilarious game he had ever played. He gritted his teeth.

"You're distracting my Uncle!" Zuko growled as he approached them. Both of his fists were clenched at his sides as he glowered at the girl. "Uncle, come watch me train!" He demanded like the spoiled prince he was.

"You're Uncle doesn't want to watch you practice ballet Zuko," she stuck her tongue out with an irked expression. What was it about her that just got under his skin? "You will address me as Your Highness or by my Royal title! Let me remind you that you are his guest. Not mine."

"If you insist, Your Highness." She said sarcastically. "Prince of being a pain in my ass," she grumbled under her breath. "What did you say?!" He shot back.

"There is a storm coming," Iroh suddenly interrupted inhaling a deep breath of air from the ocean. Tsai still wasn't used to the scent of the ocean surrounding them. It felt strange to be away from home for the first time. Specially one a ship in the middle of the vast ocean.

"A big one."

"You're out of your mind, Uncle," Zuko commented dryly. "The weather is perfect. Not a single cloud in sight," he raised his head looking at the endless blue sky above them. "Storm is approaching from the North," Iroh said firmly as he turned to look at his hard headed nephew. "I suggest we alter out course and head southwest."

"We know the Avatar is traveling northward," the other retorted pointing north. "So we'll do the same."

Tsai didn't know anything about navigation, or about climate conditions for a matter of fact. She had always been more a fan of tea, flora and fauna. Right now, the only thing she knew was that her purpose of being on board was persuade the prince that seeing the citizens of the Earth Kingdom as equals would be pivotal for the future of the Fire Nation empire.

"Such a lovely day," She said gazing at the sunny skies above. "You should listen to your Uncle. I'm sure with his experience as General he knows a thing or two about these types of circumstances," she said sipping her cup wisely not bothering to spare him a glance.

"Stay out of this! The only reason you're even here is for entertainment purposes," he spat harshly ignoring the unamused expression on her face. "What does it say about you when your Uncle would rather spend his afternoon with a perfect stranger than with his own nephew!" She challenged rising to her feet. "Please!" Iroh said loudly making both hot-headed teenagers turn to him.

'Perhaps this had not been the best of ideas...'

"Price Zuko, consider the safety of the crew, of our royal guest," he signaled to the red-head standing next to him. "The safety of the crew doesn't matter!" He snapped angrily. "Neither does hers. She should've known what she was getting into before deciding to stowaway on my ship!"

'Why you-' She wanted to strangle him. Just as Zuko said that a Lieutenant walked on the deck and raised an eyebrow at the prince with a frown on his features.

Zuko's expression hardened. "Finding the Avatar is more important than any individual's safety," he said before stalking off and slamming the door to the command tower behind him.

"He doesn't mean that," Iroh stated in an attempt to soothe the anger of Tsai and every other crew member that had heard him. She shook her head at Iroh's attempt to once again redeem his nephew. His words had not just been mean, they had been cruel. Tsai figured that maybe he really was just as cruel as she had heard his father.

Sometime later the ship's crew was gathered at the deck as they together observed a massive dark cloud that loomed over the horizon and was rapidly approaching. It was then that Zuko returned, the girl could sense the anger almost radiating off him.

"Huh, what do you know," she commented innocently. "Looks like Uncle Iroh was right about the storm after all," she crossed her arms over her chest and taunted the banished prince with a smirk on her face. "Lucky guess," Iroh responded in a pleasant tone.

"Listen here you colonial pest!" Zuko barked as he marked towards the girl. Her eyes shot wide at the insult. "You'd better learn some respect if you're going to be aboard my ship!" She looked at him smugly. Not breaking eye contact she rose to her feet and stood as tall as possible, she raised her neck as tall as possible in her best attempt to appear intimidating. "Oh, yeah?"

"Or I'll teach it you," he threatened before jabbing her chest hard. Her eyes were angry but the sneer on her lips was almost one of humor. Instinctively she reached for her arm ready to-

"You can't go around talking to your girlfriend like that!" One of the crew members shouted. "That's fucked up," one murmured under his breath.

"She's not my girlfriend!" "He wishes!"

Both retorted bitterly at the same time.

Iroh sighed and rubbed his temples. Nobody seemed to be noticing the way he was making silencing motions with his hands.

"What do you know about respect?" The Lieutenant demanded harshly. "The way you talk to everyone around, from your hard-working crew to your girlfriend and your esteemed uncle. It shows you know nothing about respect!"

"I'm not his-" She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind," she mumbled defeated.

This argument was pointless. It was obvious that Zuko didn't care about anybody but himself. Then again, what else was to be expected from a spoiled bratty prince. Beyond annoyed, Tsai decided to find something to do in the ship. She spent some time in the Commander's towers simply looking around. There were many maps and other important documents and placements on the walls which were pinned with Avatar sightings as well as his hot trail on a map of the world.

'Wow..', she let out a low whistle. It seemed like the prince had been searching for a while. He really was obsessed. She couldn't help but wonder just what they would do with the Avatar once they captured him. If they made off with him, he would just be reborn into his next life cycle. So would they just keep him around? Weaponize him for the benefit of the fire nation? It was a smart plan.

Some of the crew returned after a moment and growing bored she made a pit stop in the kitchen. The kitchen was unbearably hot and crowded which made her feel claustrophobic. She had never been allowed in the royal palace's back in You Dao. She took her time to find a snack and found some cherries to snack on. She stopped for a moment to listen to the booming thunder which signaled the arrival of the storm. Taking a bowl full of cherries she made her way back to her room, and figured she would attempting to read away the coming storm or maybe even nap.

She opened the door to her room mindlessly.

Her room was dimly lit with candles and in the center sat the prince in a meditating pose. Having been disturbed he snapped his eyes opened and scowled at her.

"What is your problem?!" She shouted angrily throwing the cherries at him.

She hated it when people were in her room, specially men. This was a complete invasion of privacy! What was so hard about just staying out? She knew she had this problem back at home with Mecha, but with him?

The fire behind him grew until it licked the ceiling.

"Come for your lesson, have you?" He rose to his feel, stomping on a discarded cherry as he approached her. Regardless, standing tall with her back erect Tsai stood her ground. She looked at his illuminated palm in which flames of fire only grew hotter. Her hand twitched slightly, ready to attack if provoked. He came close, very, close, much to close for comfort and stood inches away from her. The only sound in the room was the slight shaking of the ship and the angry rapping of the storm outside. It was then that he raised his hand and she involuntarily flinched away losing her proud ground, giving a step back her body meeting the metal wall behind. She expected to see a smug expression on his face, but instead there was hurting in his eyes. The bowl with fruit slipped from her fingers and crashed against the floor shattering.

"W-Were you going to hurt me?" She asked in a small voice.

He looked at her, like really looked at her. She had attempted to stand up to him, yet he could see the fear in her eyes. He felt horrible. He had just been meditating about that fateful day- the days before he was branded as the "Banished Prince", before his monstrous father had done the unthinkable to him and to think he was capable of such cruelty. His blood ran cold at the realization that the apple did not fall far from the tree.

He was silent. The flames in the room dyed as he lowered his head with shame and stepped away from her.

"Were you?" She repeated louder, her voice harsher.

"No," he responded quietly taking a seat on her bed. He sat in the dim darkness and lowered his head. Tsai had a feeling that Zuko wasn't the kind of person to apologize, yet he looked disturbed, his shoulder's bearing a loaded weight of regret.

Cautiously, as if dealing with an injured animal she moved in careful steps towards him. Stepping on some of the fruits that were in the ground, careful not to directly step on any shards from the broken bowl.

"Hey," She said in a soft tone as she sat next to him. He still hadn't looked up, yet could feel her weight sinking the mattress next to him. "Are-Are you O.K?" She placed a careful hand on his shoulder just like she would've done with her brother. He stiffened at the gesture. Taking note that she should avoid all physical contact with him she retreated. He remained mute. Feeling the air growing heavy with awkwardness around them she decided to be the one to break the ice.

"You know- I know you're going to find him," she began. "Nobody had even seen the Avatar in the past one hundred years until you came along. That's got to count for something right? Although I do think you might need some serious counseling aid with your obsession. Your rage too. And the way you treat others, specially your Uncle."

"You don't understand," he muttered sharply under his breath. "My honor depends on it," he finally turned to face her, a hard look on his eyes.

"A virtuous man is content with himself without doubt or lacking of self: be it honor, courage or strength." She said wisely.

"You sound like Uncle," He scoffed lightly. "I sound like my grandfather," she exhaled a long breath before laying back on the mattress. "Now, I'd really appreciate it if you could leave my room."

"Your room? This is mine."

Confused she slowly sat up. The room had been so dark she hadn't even seen the massive Fire Nation banner on the wall, or the dual twin swords hung on the other wall. "Oh," was all she could manage. She looked at the mess she had made, the smashed fruits on the floor, the broken bowl. She felt a little smaller having been consumed by her embarrassment at the realization that she had been the one intruding.

"I'll be on my way then," she peeped.

They both stood up and the loud sound of thunder suddenly resounded as the ship was struck. A sudden wave violently rocked the ship violently. The fire in the room died. What if the ship flipped?

"Holy catgators! We're going to die!" She panicked not realizing she had reached for his arm despite her mental note of not touching the prince. "I'm going to see what happened," he said walking away, shrugging her grip off. "Stay here," he ordered. "No way! I don't want to drown!"

Both rushed to the deck where the rest of the crew as well was Iroh stood. "Where were we hit?" The prince demanded. The ship rocked dangerously and water seemed to be coming from everywhere. Tsai kept her hands raised above her eyes to keep her sight clear from the prickling rain.

"I don't know!" The Lieutenant cried out as he attempted to keep his balance. "Look!" Tsai suddenly pointed out at the sight of dark cloud of smoke rising from the top of the command tower. "The helmsman!" Zuko shouted when he realized the man was hanging precariously by one hand from the ruined observation deck. Without any hesitation Zuko rushed towards the service ladder and began rapidly climbing, his Lieutenant tailing behind him. It was then that the helmsman dropped. Tsai brought a horrified hand to her face her mouth gaping as the man fell to his death. It was then that somehow Zuko managed to catch the man's wrist mid air saving the man's life.

"Tsai! Watch out!" The girl was pushed to the deck's ground before she could react. She turned to see Iroh standing where she had been and a bolt of lightning struck him. Her eyes widened as it hit him and redirected it to the ocean. His shoulders, hair and hands smoking. She starred in shock having never seen anything like it. "I am....fine," he practically squeaked. The ship was once again rocked violently.

The lieutenant and helmsman were not on deck. Tsai approached Iroh and helped him regain his composure.

"The Avatar!" Zuko suddenly shouted in surprise.

Tsai turned to see the most unbelievable things. A flying bison soaring through the storm. "B-But I thought all flying bisons were extinct." She said more to herself.

"What do you want to do, sir?" The Lieutenant asked with his back straight as he awaited for the prince's command. He hesitated for a moment. "Let him go. We need to get this ship to safety." "Then we must head directly into the eye of the storm," Iroh stated sagely.

Sometime later light shyly peeked in through gaps in the clouds as they reached the eye of the hurricane.

"So what did you think of your first day abroad Tsai?" Iroh asked as they both stood by the decks' railing gazing off into the now peaceful ocean. Light drizzling drain continued to pepper their at their skin. "It's certainly more exciting than anything that's happening back home," she grinned. Today had been scary, it had been a emotional rollercoaster, yet she was happy to be here. To have struggled through the day. Her mind had been taken off her grandfather's passing and she couldn't help but wonder what chaotic anecdote they would encounter tomorrow.

"I still can't believe you redirected that thunderbolt! And then we saw a flying bison! I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow!" "Patience my dear, patience," Iroh laughed whole heartedly. "We should focus on what we are having for dinner tonight. All of this commotion has made me realized how hungry I am."

Zuko once again found himself glaring at his Uncle Iroh and the girl.

"Uncle," he interrupted. Approaching the two of them quietly. Both turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," he genuinely apologized and slightly bowed his head. Iroh smiled faintly and placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder, "Your apology is accepted," he smiled. "Now I'm going to go get tonight's tea ready," he smiled at the two teenagers before leaving.

Zuko didn't leave, instead his gaze shifted to the calm ocean before him. She drank up his presence.

Perhaps Iroh was right and his nephew did possess some redeeming qualities. She hadn't even realized she had been genuinely smiling at him.

"What are you looking so smug about," He barked avoiding her gaze. Tsai wouldn't have bet on it but she could've sworn she noted the slightest of blushes dust his face.

Maybe, just maybe he wasn't all that bad.

xxx

FIRST https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621142853126602752/sunburn-prince-zuko-1

NEXT https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621143989947629568/sunburn-prince-zuko-5

PREV https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621143643304116224/sunburn-prince-zuko-3

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

#zuko #prince Zuko x oc #prince zuko #prince Zuko fanfic #atla fanfic #atla #avatar #avatar fanfic #aang #katara #sokka #fanfic #wattbad #reader insert #x reader

67 notes · View notes

nhatlynguyennln · 3 years

Text

HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

New Post has been published on http://www.ngoisaokpop.com/howls-moving-castle-differences-between-novel-and-movie/

HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

Link Video:

youtube

Opening

Following the resounding success of the 2001 animated classic Spirited Away, director Hayao Miyazaki continued to release a Japanese animated fantasy Howl’s moving castle. The film was inspired by the 1986 novel of the same name by British author Diana Wynne Jones.

Most Studio Ghibli fans turn to the book after watching the movie. This caused a little disappointment, a bit of “disillusionment” for the ladies who put too many dreams into the handsome wizard Howl in the movie. Although both the novel and the movie revolve around the two main characters – Sophie and Howl, there are huge differences in the storyline and character construction that cause both the novel and the film to turn in two directions.

Stay tuned with ASK KPOP until the end of the video to see what made “romantic fiction” fans disillusioned with the difference between novels and movies Howl’s moving castle.

Body

Sophie Hatter, a girl born into a family of hat makers, does not believe that luck will come to her and she will do something great in her life. She decided she would spend the rest of her life looking after the hat shop her father left. But her life changes after being cursed by the Witch of the Waste, turning her into an old woman, and worse yet, she can’t tell anyone about it. Fearing that her family would no longer recognize her, Sophie set out to find a way to cure the curse, and then arrived at Wizard Howl’s castle. Since then there is a big difference between books and movies, especially the plot and character lines.

The difference in the story between the novel and the movie

Because the novel Howl’s moving castle was written for children by writer Diana Wynne Jones, these factors such as : magic ,humor, fantasy come first. The content of the novel mainly tells about Sophie’s journey to break the curse. In that journey, Sophie has discovered the true strength of herself and the good qualities of those around her. However, when it was adapted to the big screen, director Hayao Miyazaki incorporated many lofty messages about love, peace, and anti-war.

Throughout the movie, we see a fight break out between Ingary (the land of Howl and Sophie is in) and the neighboring country, whereas there is no fierce battle in the original novel.

The whole movie revolves around the theme of anti-war, and its true villain is the pointless war and cause the loss. However, the original story directs the reader towards Sophie’s journey to find herself, how Sophie realizes her worth, which is partly through the movie. Coming to the movie, you will experience the brutal combat scene, the dark battleships .As for the book, Howl has to confront the Witch of the Waste and her powerful fire demon. The two missions of the movie and the novel have different message stories with different audiences, both great stories with their own merits.

The difference in the character’s personality between the novel and the movie

The second most highlighted difference between the novel and the movie is the characters. The characters in the book and in the movie are transformed from the original. Some minor characters have been removed or merged together with other characters. Characters with significant changes include:

(Howl)

Howl in the movie is a perfect version, a “Prince Charming” with many advantages in personality: courteous, gentle, and also the hero of fighting to protect Sophie.If you are familiar with this Howl image then Please be mentally prepared before reading the novel of the same name. Real name’s Howl is Howell Jenkins, from Wales. It is mentioned in the book that the castle door leads to different places according to the color on the door, and the blackness opens into a dark night. However, the side when that black curtain was Wales in the 1980s, with modern equipment such as cars and computers . This is not mentioned in the movie.

In terms of personality, Howl in the novel is actually a “lady-killer” who flirts with so many beautiful ladies and any girl will not escape by him, until they fall in love with him, he leaves without leaving a trace. This was also the source of his trouble with the Witch of the Waste Throughout the novel, Howl spends most of his time dressing and grooming in order to win the hearts of beautiful girls, including her sister Sophie. The rest of the time, Howl sulked and acted like a child beside Sophie. Howl in the novel does not want to tie and always tries to avoid responsibility. But the more we read, the more we like Howl in the novel, because his personality is especially funny and witty. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell myself I’m not doing it.” Throughout the novel, we see only a Howl chasing the girls, his words in the last chapter confuse readers and other characters: Howl is still searching and saving people from being lost from the Witch. Meanwhile, he tells himself “I’m not doing it”.

Howl in the movie gets rid of Howl’s flaws of the novel. Because the movie’s message is hind-minded about peace protection and anti-war, a heroic character is needed to be able to send the message to the audience. The hero in the movie is Howl, he is idealized in the film, becomes a hero fighting for peace, denouncing the destructive power of war. When the court asked Howl to go to war, Howl refused ,not for his cowardness. He knew from which side the war was coming from, then the end was like that for everyone, just bring pain only. However, at night, Howl quietly turns into a monster out to fight alone, fighting against planes and monsters that both sides release to tear each other up. It is an ideal, incredibly romantic image of a hero fighting evil, fighting for peace, and fighting for the things he loves. In the end, Howl in both the novel and movie has to face Howl’s problems and settle it.

(Sophie)

Sophie in the novel has red hair, stubborn, straightforward, and always seems angry after being cursed. She sees cleaning as a way to forget about the problem she is facing. She often talks to hats, clothes, objects around and this brings miracles, even life to them. Meanwhile, Sophie in the movie has brown hair and is much softer. She also knows how to control her emotions better, and she cleans out of order. However, Sophie in the movie has no magical powers. This is most noticeable in the part where Sophie meets Turnip-Head. Turnip-Head in the story is an inanimate scarecrow, but gets up and follows Sophie after hearing her talk. In the movie, Turnip-Head had life when Sophie met him. While the-story Sophie was very scared of Turnip Head and wanted to chase him many times, the Sophie-movie was friendly, even grateful to the Turnip-Head.

Sophie in the story has sent a message: “When we are young, let us go out and explore ourselves, we will find our power hidden and know what our strength is. and where is our limit. ” That is a very precious meaning that Sophie’s journey to find herself brings back.

(Author)

Author Diana Wynne Jones observed that Howl and Sophie on-screen seemed “softer and more noble than their characters in my book.” In the movie, we really liked how Howl became “lost” as he transformed into a giant crow in battles and gradually “couldn’t return.” Meanwhile, Sophie’s curse fades more and more as she becomes stronger to save Howl and to heal herself. These details are not included in the book. However, I also want to say that Howl and Sophie in the book seem more real and that the quarrel between the two is what makes me appreciate their feelings more; love each other and learn to accept each other’s imperfections.

(Witch)

She was once a charming, powerful woman. Howl in the novel once chased and abandoned her. Both the story and the movie show Howl once captured a shooting meteor and gave it his heart in exchange for power, which is Calcifer. However, the sorceress in the novel cursed Howl to complete a list of things to do and they slowly led Howl back to her hand. In the movie, the witch tries to cast a curse on Howl, but he easily removes it. In the end, she lost her magic and became a pitiful, harmless old woman.

()

There are also some minor differences in the side characters. Sophie in the novel has two younger sisters, Lettie and Martha. Lettie is the younger sister sent to learn magic, and Martha is the assistant at the bakery. These two sisters exchanged looks and names in the beginning. Lettie is a huge support character in the series, even part 2 is present. However, the film only mentions Lettie – the sister at the bakery, and she can only say a sentence or two to Sophie and finish. Howl has an apprentice. In the book, he names Michael Fisher , a teenager. And, in the movie he names Markl , a boy. In the story, Suliman is the Royal Mage, male and missing. On screen, Suliman is a female magician who taught Howl before, and she is a bit mean.

Ending

“Howl’s Moving Castle” is a film with a stunning image and a beautiful European context, but it does not lose the Japanese culture, oriental styles of Ghibli. The good soundtrack both “The Promise With The World” and “Merry Go Round of Life” are great tunes but for us “Merry Go Round of Life” is still more beautiful, the scene of Howl holding Sophie’s hand , two people walking in the air together forever is a very beautiful, very romantic scene that is hard to describe in words.

Howl’s Moving Castle is not just a love story, a magical adventure and heart-fluttering romance, but also a story of growth and a journey to find oneself. Whether it’s a novel or a movie, the film’s meaningful message is expressed in tolerance, forgiveness after struggles, hatred, and curse. In addition, the extraordinary life energy of the people who have suffered many injuries in the film overcoming all the difficulties to achieve a happy destination is also the message that the filmmakers send to the audience.

#HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE

3 notes · View notes

inukag-week · 4 years

Text

Acceptance

Submitted by: @shupadoop

It’s not the smoothest writing, but I’d be damned if I’d missed day 1 of my first Inukag week because of lack of editing time. Warning: smut ahead (near the end). Length: approx 6 pages. Sorry I’m Posting a day late. I didn’t realize I still don’t show in search results :’(

Can I really never go back? A full week passed since Kagome was forcibly removed from the time that she had long called home. Every day that week she checked on the well twice; once before school and once right after. And sometimes when she thought she heard Inuyasha’s voice on the wind, but it was always her imagination.Another week passed and the faux-assured smile she always wore was starting to fade.

“Kagome, this is the most days in a row we’ve seen you all year! We’re so glad you’re feeling better. But is something bothering you?”

“I just can’t believe I’m able to be at school so much now. It’s kind of a shock coming back.”A third week and her perfectly practiced smile was gone completely.“Kagome, why do you look so sad? Did something happen with your delinquent boyfriend?”

“Did he secretly like that you were sick and needed him and now he can’t handle your independence?”

“Did he see you flirting with Hojo and got so jealous he bolted?”

“He’s gone far away and I can’t see him anymore.”

“He went to a foreign school? That’s too bad, but I bet it will be really exciting when you can finally visit him!”At that Kagome started to sob.————————————————————————————————

“Miss Higurashi, we don’t normally make exceptions, but given how sick you’ve been, we want to make sure you have every chance of getting into a good high school. We’d hate to hold you back for something beyond your control. We are happy to reschedule some of your tests so you have extra time to study and we can arrange for you to have some one-on-one time with some of your teachers. Please, just let us know how we can help. We’re relieved to see you back at school.

”I can’t say no to that. Even if I could go back-She broke her thought to avoid further crying.

“… Thank you. That’s very kind. I’ll work my very hardest.”

————————————————————————————————

It was true that throughout her time in the Feudal era, (lack of) studying made her panic, but it was also a welcome relief from the tension of being in constant life and death situations. Now that it was all she had to do, it felt so pointless.

I could be helping orphaned children, or cultivating medicinal plants, or…

But she couldn’t. Once again she was just a school girl.

As she studied more and more, Kagome went to the well less and less, only occasionally stopping by when she could no longer bury her grief beneath her studies.

“Hey, sis. I thought you’d given up checking on the well.”

“Of course I haven’t, how could you say that?”

“So you really think Inuyasha will be able to make it back here some day?”

“Of course he will!”

Won’t he?

She turned back to the house for dinner when her mother called to her.

“Hey, Kagome, Mrs. Hojo gave me this plant. She said it’s been used for hundreds of years to treat inflammation. Have you seen it?”

“Yeah, Kaede taught me about it. I used to prepare it all the time for Inuyasha, even though he insisted he didn’t need it. You grind the leaves and use it topically.”

“We have a patch of dirt in the back that is mostly full of weeds now. I thought it could go there. Maybe you’d like to tend to it?”

“… Yeah. … I guess I would. Thanks, mom.”

————————————————————————————————

Even when her heart wasn’t in it, Kagome was always true to her word. She studied as if her life depended on it. She got excellent marks, even in math, and started high school with her friends.

“We are finally in high school! This is so exciting! I heard they have great sport programs here!”

“You should try out for Basketball, Yumi; you tower over everyone else since that growth spurt.”

“I’m going to try swimming.”“How about you, Kagome?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, I don’t know. I’m not really good at sports.”

“What do you mean? You were always on the winning team when we played in class. And you looked so healthy every time you came to school even after you’d been off sick for so long. That must indicate you have a strong physique.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They were walking together to the first day’s assembly when Kagome caught something in the corner of her eye that made her freeze, causing a pile-up of new students behind her.

Kikyo!?

She ran to the window overlooking the courtyard for a better view.

No. Not Kikyo. Just an upper year with their hair tied low… holding a bow?

“Maybe I’ll join the archery team.”

“Really? That would be great, Kagome. I’ve heard archery is really hard and this school has one of the best teams in the country.”

“That’s it. I’ll try out for archery.”

As you might expect, Kagome easily beat out the competition. Firing at a still target was nothing after purifying tiny jewel shards embedded in wriggling demons. She became the youngest competing member on the team, and shortly after, the youngest team captain.

“We’re so proud of you, Kagome!” said her mother, after hearing the good news. “You must be enjoying high school then.”

“… Yeah,” still a touch of longing in her voice.

“What subjects do you think you’ll focus on?”

“I really don’t know. It all felt so far away before, and now the decision is right in front of me. I have no idea.”

“Why not history?” suggested Souta. “You could study the feudal era. You’d have a big advantage over everybody else. None of you classmates have lived it.”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

The following morning after breakfast, Kagome grabbed her bag, and her bow and arrow set, and left for class, glancing at the well that she no longer visited, but was still present in the back of her mind.

History. Why not? It’s not the same as living it, but maybe it could bring me some peace now that I’m cut off from that world. Maybe I’ll finally learn why demons no longer live in Japan.

“Help, stop him! My puppy is in that bag he stole!”

Kagome ran the rest of the way down the steps to see the urgent scene ahead. Instinctively she grabbed one of her heavy, rubber-tipped practice arrows and shot the thief straight in the neck. She did a running slide toward him, catching the terrified puppy. Unaware of what she was doing, she started to rub its pointy ears.

“Miss, thank you! That was incredible!”

“Oh, you’re welcome. Don’t mention it. Happy to help.”

When did I get so capable?

In fact she was always capable. She thought back to one of her earliest adventures with Inuyasha when she helped an angry spirit find Nirvana. Inuyasha told her he knew nothing of spirits and she’d have to figure it out on her own. And she did. When did she become so reliant on others?————————————————————————————————

Throughout high school she become more and more self-assured. She rivalled Hojo for the title of Most Likely to Have a Home Remedy on Hand. She led her archery team to victory in nearly every match. She settled on history and biology as her focal subjects - I might as well make use of all Kaede taught me about plants, right? - and her time in the past started to feel less like reality and more like a wonderful dream she always knew she would have to wake up from eventually.“

Kagome, do you know which university you want to go to? I was thinking of this place,” she thrust a brochure into Kagome’s hands. “It’s far, though. I hope I know someone else going. Then we could be roommates.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about going there too. They have a really good horticulture program, and a great history department. Let’s be roommates!”After a few late nights, and just a couple tears, Kagome graduated high school with excellent exam results to start university. She immediately joined the archery team, and created a spin-off team where she worked with kids in difficult situations teaching them to channel their anger into the bow instead of a more dangerous vice. Her and Yumi’s apartment became known across campus as the breathing room. Flowers and herbs climbed the walls, and Kagome gladly shared her knowledge with anybody who asked.

“Everybody should know. There is so much basic first aid you can do at home with these plants. You wouldn’t have to worry about emergency runs to the drug store.”

From the outside Kagome’s life looked perfect. From the inside, she couldn’t complain, but there was still a loneliness she couldn’t overcome. She tried to date a bit throughout high school, but the boys around her were so boring. In the past it annoyed her to no end that Inuyasha couldn’t put the thought of Kikyo to rest, but at least his story was a real tragedy that would be difficult for anybody to overcome. She just found herself with loser hung up on their exes.

“Come on, Kagome, they weren’t all so bad. What about Mizore’s brother? He was sweet. And didn’t you say he was a good kisser.”

“Yeah, but… I just didn’t feel anything in the end.”

She didn’t feel anything because she didn’t want to feel anything. But she knew this couldn’t last. She wouldn’t be truly happy in her present until she could fully let go of the past she knew she’d never see again.

At this rate I’ll die an old maid. Do I really want to be celibate the rest of my life? I’m sure even jealous Inuyasha wouldn’t wish that on me.

————————————————————————————————

“Kagome, are you sure you don’t want to come to the party? There will be lots of cute gu-uys.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, though.”

“Come on, I thought you wanted to meet a nice guy. You have to get out there eventually.”

“I know, but my shoulder really hurts after archery. I’m just not up for it tonight. But invite me next time, I promise, I’ll put the effort in.”

“Okay. I’m going to hold you to that.”

I know I have to make an effort. But I can make the effort next week, right? I’ve waited this long.

After Yumi left Kagome’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kagome. Will you be home tonight.”

“Hi, Souta. Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. Why?

”“I have a surprise for you. Expect the doorbell to ring in 10 minutes.”

“10 minutes? How can you get here so quickly?”

“You’ll see.”

She swore she heard a giggle as Souta hung up the phone.

She went to the kitchen to make some tea. 10 minutes passed and she heard a knock. She walked across the apartment to open the front door, “Souta?” but nobody was there. Maybe someone else tried the wrong door? When she turned around she nearly screamed. Perched on her window ledge was Inuyasha. She rushed to let him in.

“I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I’d never see you again! I checked the well all the time for months, but it seemed so hopeless.”

“I thought I’d have to give up too. But Sango and Miroku had their third child yesterday and I couldn’t help but think of the life I’d hoped you and I would live. I had to try one more time.”

“I’m so glad you did.

”They started to lean in, but the tension of years apart made them hesitate.“Kagome, you aren’t seeing anybody else, are you?”

“No. Are you?”

Inuyasha just laughed. With that, Kagome threw her arms around his neck and kissed him like nobody else ever had. And nobody else ever would. A kiss that made his head spin and his blood run hot. With her nails she traced lines down the sides of his face, past his neck and onto his chest. She started to pull apart the fabric of his iconic red outfit. He stared at her in disbelief.

“Don’t you want to?” she asked. “After all this time?”

“I - uh… I-“

“I do.”

His look of confusion turned to panic. He didn’t know what to expect of Kagome after more than 3 years, but he definitely didn’t expect this. She was no longer the girl who blushed at the thought of boys and shielded her face from any hint of nudity. She was a confident woman who went after what she wanted.

“Didn’t you once tell Miroku it’s only a fool who refuses a woman who offers herself?”

“Did I?” panic turned to horror.

“Well?”

She smiled at him, and his expression eased. He allowed himself to be guided to her bedroom.She locked the door and resumed where she had stopped. She slipped her hands beneath the fabric that covered him and exposed his chest and shoulders. Then she undid the ties of his hakama and let everything fall to the floor. She stared hungrily at his naked body.

“Are you afraid to undress me?” He was. “I won’t stop you.”

Slowly Inuyasha undid her buttons and pulled the shirt down her arms and to the floor. Then he ran his hands down her back to undo her bra clasps and skirt.Finally she removed her panties and sat at the end of her bed, waiting to see what he would do next.

He sat down beside her, clearly afraid of making a wrong move. She hopped into his lap and locked him into a deep kiss. She was so wet and dripping onto his erection that grew bigger with each passing second. She rubbed herself up and down his length and he thought he might burst on the spot.

“Not what you expected to find, huh?”

“No.”

“Better?”

“Yeah.”She motioned for Inuyasha to move further up the bed. “Let me get a condom. You’re in luck, the nurse’s office was handing them out this week.”

“What’s a condom?”

“It’s so that I won’t get pregnant.”

“… Don’t you want to?”

Kagome laughed. “Eventually. Not right now. It would be too hard with school”

“School? It’s been 3 years, didn’t you already have school?”

Kagome laughed again. “I’ll explain later. For now, we need a condom.”

They slithered up the bed so she could pull one out of her bedside table. Inuyasha moaned as she slipped it on him, and then slipped him into her. She ground herself into his lap, steadily rocking back and forth, her hands tangled in his beautiful silver hair. He raked his claws gently over the soft skin of her thighs and she thought he might end her then and there. An explosion went off somewhere inside of her and she began to bounce on him, pushing her clit into the base of his shaft with every movement. She squealed and arched her back while Inuyasha squeezed her breasts and kissed her neck. When her breathing calmed back down he flipped her over and thrust against her most excitable spots. She screamed and dug her fingers into his back.

“Do I need to slow down?”

“NO!”

He started to moan while she screamed from the wonderful pressure he created inside her.

“I love you, Inuyasha.”

At that he came undone.

When he finally caught his breath he said “I love you too.”

For a moment they basked in the warm after-glow, but soon the sticky reality got the better of them.

“Leaves you really dirty, doesn’t it? Why don’t we take a bath.”

She drew a bath and motioned Inuyasha to get in first, so she could lean into his embrace.

“Say, Kagome, “ Inuyasha sounded nervous. “When will you come back with me to my time?”

“Well, things are different now, Inuyasha. I have a life here, and I can’t just abandon it.”

“So… what are you saying?” there was audible fear in his voice now.

“I spent so much time in your world. Maybe it’s time for you to spend some time in mine.” She smiled at him.

“Everything is so strange here. You think I can live with you in this world?”

“Well, maybe we’ll do things half and half.”

Now he smiled back.

“Half and half.”

#inuyasha #inukag #inukag week #inukag week 2020 #2020 #fanfic #day 1: acceptance #submission #sorry it's not showing up in the tags op!!#you can always tag us

42 notes · View notes

twiststreet · 4 years

Photo

To All the Boys I Loved Before 2: PS You Gave Me HPV (2020)-- these movies do a really nice job of being really cute but not going into some kind of wackadoo stratosphere-- all the teens have something to be sad about: dead moms, divorced parents, teen horniness (which is not a crime), one of them ate their twin in the womb, one of them has like a Kuato on their belly so when they lift up their shirt, there’s a Kuato there, telling Arnold Schwarzenegger to get his ass to Mars. I think they’re charming little movies (this one starts especially well with an Adventures in Babysitting shout-out-- I love that movie; plus, I think there’s an unofficial rule that mainstream movies with Asian characters in them all need to have good photographs of food, and that is a rule I support, that is the content I want).

But the last one felt more like a complete movie-- it had a nice clean “boy meets girl, blah blah blah adversity, blah blah blah then they decide to mutually masturbate, the end” type storyline, like classic romcom shit, whereas this is like ... “Can they keep the relationship going?” That’s just not a story I care about-- especially with teen movies where it’s like... I don’t want to think about what happens next with those, because I did growing up and there’s not really that many good answers. What happens next for half the characters in teen movies is they probably end up broken adults, working at their uncle’s car dealerships, choking under a mountain of debt. I don’t want to see that movie.

But yeah, this one felt more like a “middle installment” and just an episode of a TV show-- it felt like they were setting stuff up (e.g., the popular girl getting so angry at a third party that she teams up with the main girl ala a teen girl movie Piccolo from Dragonball). Plus, one of the plotlines was about the teens getting old people to dance around-- (a) old people are gross, and (b) those teens just seem like they’re inviting someone to sue that old folks home. “My grandma has a bad hip-- she takes pills for it-- why were horny teens making her jitterbug??” Some lawyer’s getting rich off that one.

American Dharma (2019): Errol Morris’s documentary about Steve Bannon’s over on Kanopy now (Kanopy’s got a killer lineup right now, if you missed any of 2019′s critic-favorite movies-- they’re all on there). On the one hand, I was expecting worse since people were so angry at Morris’s movie. I think it’s an interesting movie. On the other... Bannon’s evasive and really still in the moment where he’s evading, so anyone wanting to see some big comeuppance moment or for Morris to get past the protective wall of BULLSHIT Bannon’s built around himself... There are like three moments where Morris goes in on him on some point, but Bannon just doesn’t really respond to those. It just cuts to like... chairs on fire or something. So I get why it wasn’t a very well-liked movie.

It’s sort of not really about the election very much, so much as Bannon’s worldview and how that worldview took him where it took him. There are guys you meet who “have it all figured out”, especially guys who’ve made some money, who Bannon in this movie reminded me of, but usually when you poke at what those guys have “figured out” ... people generally are just pretty lost (cause how could you not be) and so what those dudes put on top of that lost-feeling is kinda sad, when you see that kind of bluster for what it is. (We’re heading into an election that’s going to be those guys shouting at 1000% volume because “socialism” which ... should be fun whee...)

Bannon can talk a good game about how working people aren’t going to keep putting up with getting fucked or whatever-- he’s not unable to make points that are agreeable on their surface, or he talks a lot about depictions of masculinity in classical Hollywood film, that’s sort of the structure of the movie, but Morris does, without explicitly stating the point he’s making, get at the rage and the destructiveness at the heart of all of that. But is that enough of a point or too subtle a point for the audience? I don’t know what an audience would want from this movie. Especially because Bannon doesn’t come off looking as bad as I think some audiences would want (I think the post-2016 people I see online don’t want to contemplate the guy and just want ... cheap, boring counter-anger). And Morris is sort of on a higher plane of thinking about fantasies and anger and the links between the two, I think that’s where he’s groping around, the “how this guy ended up having gone wrong” of it all, which... makes for a less satisfying movie on any kind of Gotcha level, and I guess was just... Not of the times, I guess. Or Morris doesn’t feel the aggression towards Bannon that other people might want from him... but I think the movie’s about that desire for aggression, so... (And I mean, I prefer a certain aggression generally too, in other political contexts, so I don’t know where Morris draws his boundaries...)

But that’s where I want Morris-- I want to see him searching around for something deeper; I don’t want to see Morris turn into some impotent “ah but you don’t see your own privilege” internet pussy. Those people are all pointless and should stick to where they belong (policing young adult novels?); I want Errol Morris making Errol Morris movies instead. Bannon’s just... He’s seen the other movies so he’s trying to “play the game.” (One of the better subplots being that he’s a Morris fanboy, and gets sad when he hears the guy who made Fog of War supported Hillary Clinton, which Morris just defends by saying “I was scared of you people”). I don’t know-- there’s a Chuck Klosterman article about the artificiality of interviews that Morris figures into significantly, and the movie had me thinking about that more than I think what Morris wanted me to think about. But I thought it was interesting anyways...

#movies i saw in 2020

3 notes · View notes

blackberrywidow · 6 years

Text

Adventures in Babysitting

Summary: Peter is entrusted to babysit Morgan Stark for the first time, something he is entirely unprepared for. How exactly is he supposed to tell Mr. Stark that he lost his daughter?

Warnings: This exists in a universe where Avengers 4 ends with everyone happy and alive, so none. This is pure fluff.

Word Count: 2,938

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Peter Parker was many things.

Recent High School Graduate. Empire State University full-ride scholarship recipient. Genius.

Spider-man. Mentee to Tony Stark. A superhero in the making.

He was a nephew, a best friend, a boyfriend, a protégé. A big brother.

But at this precise moment, he was so much more than that.

Peter Parker was totally, utterly screwed.

This was largely because, of all the things he was, he was worst at being a big brother.

“Morgan!” he called for what had to be the fiftieth time, looking under the large couch in the middle of the Stark’s living room for what had to be the fifteenth.

“Oh, man,” Peter groaned when the bubbly two-year-old he was searching for was, unsurprisingly, still not hiding under that particular piece of furniture. He tugged on his hair as he slowly turned in place, gaze roving over the completely silent room. “I’m going to be in so much trouble when Mr. Stark gets home.”

This was bad.

The Starks rarely went out without their precious, still extremely young daughter in tow. It had been a hectic two and a half years (give or take a few months) since the defeat of Thanos; and after Pepper had finally been able to tell Tony that she was pregnant, he had actually resolved to retire as much as the world would allow him and dedicate his time to their growing family. Peter was just happy that that somehow still included him—that with a wife and a baby, Tony still had time to mentor him. To be a father to him.

And with great power comes great responsibility, so if Mr. Stark was going to treat him like the son he never had, that meant Peter had to treat baby Morgan like the little sister he never had.

So he had been pestering Tony and Pepper for months now, trying to get them to trust him enough to leave Morgan in his care while they took some time for themselves. To have a moment of true peace between just the two of them for the first time since Thanos destroyed half the universe (which, the Avengers were able to fix, of course, but that wasn’t the point).

And this was the day. Mr. Stark had asked him a week ago to babysit his daughter while he and Pepper did… well, Peter wasn’t really sure what they were doing. He just knew that Morgan had been entrusted to him for the evening, and he was seriously messing that up.

If he didn’t find Morgan before her parents got back in approximately 30 minutes, he was dead.

Well, not dead per se. But Mr. Stark would definitely never trust him again and he would be deemed the worst sort-of-big brother in the universe. And that was basically the same thing.

“Come on, Morgan! I give up. You can come out now!” It was back to her bedroom now, where he looked under her bed, in her closet, in the toy chest, in every conceivable hiding place he could imagine. But it didn’t matter. Mr. Stark had warned him, but he hadn’t listened.

“Ollie ollie oxen free!” he tried as a last ditch effort, but he knew it would be pointless. Morgan Stark was simply the best hide-n-seek player to ever live, and Peter should have heeded his mentor’s warning and never agreed to play.

But come on! She was a tiny, adorable two-year-old! How could she be that good at hiding?

Granted, the Stark’s home was basically a mansion, with three-stories and roughly 8,000 sq. ft. of floor space. In an attempt at fairness, Peter and Morgan had agreed to stick to the main level for their game. However, Peter had the feelings that agreements made with toddlers were likely to hold little value, so he had painstakingly searched every floor, every room, every crevice for the past two hours. Yet, still no Morgan.

It was insane.

He was Spider-man for crying out loud! He caught criminals on the daily and occasionally even helped stop genocidal maniacs from destroying the universe. Finding a two-year-old should not be nearly this difficult.

He was out of options and out of time. Mr. Stark would be here any minute and he would have to tell the man he looked up to most in the world that he had lost his only daughter in the span of four hours.

There was only one thing left to do.

“Morgan,” Peter pled, dropping to his knees on the hardwood floor of the living room. “Please, Morgan. You gotta help me here. I give up. Please come out now.”

He ignored the sting of embarrassment that came with begging a two-year-old for mercy and continued to analyze his surroundings. Everything was still deathly still, his enhanced senses not picking up any sound or movement.

That was it. Nothing could save him now.

Sighing in resignation, Peter climbed to his feet again and dejectedly made his way to the kitchen. This was a stressful situation after all, and stressful situations called for copious amounts of food.

He checked his phone for the time as he strode into the kitchen.

8:47 p.m.

Thirteen minutes. He only had thirteen minutes left to live without the terrible shame of Tony Stark’s disappointment.

His movements were sluggish as he grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a box of cereal from the top of the fridge, the first edible thing he laid eyes on.

It was Coco Pebbles. Peter’s favorite.

He knew that Mr. Stark kept that particular cereal in his house for solely that reason, which made his failures as a babysitter, and more importantly, a self-proclaimed honorary big brother, so much worse.

“Ugh,” he moaned, shoveling a spoon-full of the delicious cereal into his mouth as soon as the milk had been poured. “Now I have to tell Mr. Stark that I lost his daughter in his own house and he’ll never trust me to watch her again,” he mumbled around his cereal, staring sightlessly into the depths of his bowl.

He was most certainly exaggerating, but come on—he was an eighteen-year-old who knew he was about to disappoint someone who’s approval meant everything to him. Not to mention he had just temporarily misplaced his favorite toddler. Things were not looking good for him at the moment, and he only had approximately 11 minutes left to pity himself before he had to face the music.

He heaved another world-weary sigh before stuffing his face again. “I probably won’t be allowed to play with Morgan at all anymore.”

“No!”

Peter jumped in the chair, twisting around to face the cabinet above the refrigerator—the direction the small, panicked voice came from, where a head of messy, dark brown hair was poking out.

“Morgan!” the teen cried out, jumping to his feet, doomsday snack entirely forgotten.

“I sorry, Petta!” the young girl babbled as she attempted to clamber down from her hiding place. She had just crash-landed on top of the fridge when Peter reached her, pulling her down and placing her safely onto the chair that he had just vacated. “I don’ want you to be in trouble. I’s just playin’!”

Peter stared at her with wide, almost shell-shocked eyes. He had checked that cabinet—multiple times. He knew from experience that it was one of her favorite places to hide.

“Morgan,” he asked the toddler hesitantly, watching her with narrowed eyes as she determinedly gnawed on his abandoned spoon as though she would disappear before his eyes again. “Were you up there the whole time?”

The toddler giggled, her green-eyes shining brightly at him as she took the spoon out of her mouth and started drumming a complex beat on the table. “Nuh uh.”

“Nuh uh?” he asked before taking the spoon away from her, belatedly realizing that it was probably not something she should be playing with.

Morgan pouted, as she was prone to do, but didn’t protest his thievery otherwise. “No,” she clarified. Sort of.

Peter laughed, scooping the girl up into his arms and taking her back into the living room to wait for her parents. “Then where were you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Iron Baby!”

Morgan shrieked in joy, as she usually did when Peter called her by the nickname he had given her (which had been quickly picked up by the other Avengers, much to Peter’s pleasure). “I know! I was hidin’ from you!”

“But I looked everywhere!” Peter protested, gently tossing the toddler onto the plush couch. He waited for her giggling and bouncing to subside before asking, “How did you stay hidden that long?”

Morgan looked at him with wide eyes, worryingly still and silent for a long moment. She looked first to the left, then the right, as though she was making sure they were still alone. Peter just raised an eyebrow, waiting for the show she was putting on to end.

Eventually Morgan deemed the living room safe and motioned Peter forward with chubby hands. Once he was crouched in front of her, she leaned in even closer and asked, in what was perhaps supposed to be a whisper, but was actually a touch louder than normal, “Can you keep a secret?”

Peter made a big show of checking their surroundings again, looking all around the room before nodding and loudly whispering, “Pinky swear.”

As soon as the ritual pinky-swearing was completed, a mischievous smile—one much too evil to be found on the face of a two-year-old—spread across Morgan’s face. She leaned in even closer, as everyone knows the closer you are the more secret it is, and said, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

Peter was only confused for a moment before comprehension dawned on him and he jumped back and explained, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. helped you win!”

Morgan simply nodded, looking entirely pleased with herself. “Uh huh.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. was, of course, always monitoring the Stark household, so it made sense that the AI was capable of tracking Peter’s movements and warning the youngest member of the Stark family so she could relocate herself. It was completely plausible. He just couldn’t believe that a two-year-old had thought to use it to her advantage.

When Peter didn’t say anything while he processed this new information, Morgan grew concerned that her brother was not a reliable confidant after all. “You can’t tell Daddy, Petta. You promised!”

“Of course not!” Peter assured her, crouching in front of her once more so she could clearly see his grin. “We pinky-promised, remember?”

Morgan returned his grin, nodding enthusiastically. “Now we can both hide from Daddy whenever we want!”

Peter had just began contemplating the possibilities of such an arrangement when the Starks returned, their entrance made obvious by Tony’s loud exclamation of, “Where’s my girl?”

Morgan squealed and hopped off the couch, running as fast as her chubby legs would take her to the foyer where her parents waited. Tony was crouching with his arms wide-open, waiting for the incoming hug from his daughter who he was clearly relieved to see was still alive and well.

“Mommy! Daddy!” said girl cried as she darted under Tony’s outstretched arms and launched herself at her mother.

Pepper, of course, was delighted to be the parent of choice for the evening, but Tony pouted, causing Peter to grin and step forward with his own arms open.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony looked away from his embracing wife and daughter and immediately rolled his eyes and stood up. “I’m alright, thanks kid.”

“Aw, come on, Mr. Stark,” Peter goaded, stepping forward. “We were both so good!”

Tony scoffed, but reached out to pull Peter into a quick one-armed hug. “I really doubt that, Spiderling.”

He stepped back from the hug, but kept one arm around Peter as they turned to face the other members of their little family. “What do you think Pepper? Were they good?”

Pepper, who was holding her jabbering daughter, smiled and moved to leave the foyer. “I don’t know. Let’s see, shall we?”

They moved as one through the living room, making sure that nothing had been destroyed in their absence. When everything checked out, Pepper smiled down at her daughter. “It looks like you were a good girl for Peter after all, darling.” Morgan only giggled happily in response, and Pepper turned to Peter and said, “Thanks again for watching her for us Peter. We really appreciate it.”

“Oh, no problem!” Peter said, feeling like he could breathe easily for the first time in an hour. The Starks were back, Morgan had been found, nobody had died, nothing was broken. It had been a good night. But he wasn’t about to push it. “Well,” he said, grabbing his backpack that was waiting by the couch, “I’ll just head out then.”

“Not so fast,” Tony said in a tone of voice that instantly made Peter freeze.

Peter turned slowly, internally cringing. He knew that voice. And sure enough, Mr. Stark was making the face that usually accompanied it. The one he always made when he thought they were hiding something from him. It was what Peter privately referred to as his Dad Face, and it was truly fearsome.

He was so busted.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” the AI responded while Peter started praying.

“Did anything of note happen while we were gone?”

Peter held his breath, not daring to make eye contact with Mr. Stark while he waited on F.R.I.D.A.Y to rat him out for temporarily losing Morgan… for two and a half hours.

Did Peter mention that he was so dead?

“No, Mr. Stark. There are no incidences to report.”

Peter almost couldn’t believe it and he audibly breathed in relief, probably not helping him seem less guilty. Morgan, however, smiled angelically at Peter, and he imagined that if she knew how to wink at him, she would have in that moment.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she cried after F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave the all-clear, clambering out of her mother’s arms and running across the room into her father’s.

Tony smiled at his daughter, though he still seemed to be on edge, as though he was waiting to find out that something catastrophic had happened in his short absence, despite everything seeming perfectly fine. “What is it sweetheart?”

“Petta and I had sooooooooo much fun! Can he watch me again?”

Tony pouted theatrically. “Aw, really? We let the kid watch you one time and now he’s the only one you want to play with?”

Morgan chortled and grabbed her father’s face to smush it between her chubby hands. “Don’ be silly, Daddy! I wanna play with you too!”

“Well,” Pepper said, moving toward the staircase with a soft smile, “you can all play, but I’m going to bed. Goodnight darling!” she called out, blowing the still-rambunctious toddler a kiss before ascending the stairs.

After everyone had called out their goodnights, Morgan turned back to her father with her normal, face-splitting smile. “So we play now, Daddy?”

Tony sighed dramatically, but agreed. “Yes, Morgan, we can play now. But just one game.”

“Yay!” the girl cheered, clapping excitedly before she squirmed out of her father’s arms to run to Peter. “We play hide-n-seek?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at his kids, knowing a trap when he saw one. “Morgan, you know that we can’t play hide-n-seek. It takes way too long.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan said, eyes too-wide as she rapidly shook her head. “I’ll hide with Peter, so it’ll be easier to find us. He not very good.”

Peter bit his lip to hide his smile as Mr. Stark contemplated them, deciding if he should just agree to avoid the tantrum or press for a different game to spare himself the torture of playing hide-n-seek with his devious daughter. Peter wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by that easily though. “She’s been begging me to play all night, Mr. Stark. I think that we should play with her.”

Tony considered it for only a moment more before reluctantly nodding with a sigh. “Fine. But just because I know that you are a terrible hide-n-seek player, Pete.”

Peter nodded in agreement, only barely managing to hide his smile as Mr. Stark turned around and began to count to one hundred.

Morgan grinned up at him and took his hand as soon as the countdown began, running with him to their first hiding place of the night.

It was a challenge to keep the talkative child quite as they moved from spot to spot, but she was definitely a pro with F.R.I.D.A.Y. whispering to her from seemingly nowhere. No wonder no one was ever able to find her.

Peter’s family had never been conventional, but that was okay with them. He had lost his parents and his uncle, and for a long time it had felt like it would only be him and May against the world. But things changed, and families didn’t have to be nuclear to be meaningful.

He still had May, but he also had Ned and MJ, and Mr. Stark and Pepper, and the rest of the Avengers.

He also had someone he could consider a sister now, something he never thought he would have, but she was something he was unquestionably grateful for. Especially when they were curled up in a cabinet together, with Morgan asleep next to him while Mr. Stark grew increasingly more frustrated as he combed through their house, calling out for them in desperation all the while.

He couldn’t remember the last time he played hide-n-seek, but he knew that it had never been as fun or as sweet as this.

A/N: Thanks for reading this guys! I hope you liked it. I don’t have any real plans to continue this, but if I get a good response I wouldn’t mind continuing with short stories about Peter and Morgan’s adventures. So please let me know what you think!

Part Two

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #peter parker #spider-man #morgan stark #tony stark #iron man #pepper potts #pepperony #iron dad #spider son #peter is not the best babysitter #but he is definitely a good big brother #my writing #marvel fanfiction

109 notes · View notes

theonceoverthinker · 6 years

Text

OUAT 3X01 - The Heart of the Truest Believer

Finally, I can start Season 3! It’s been so long that I can HEART-ly believe it!

...Did you miss the puns? I missed the puns. I don’t think Emma did, because I’m just hanging on by a thread!

(Ha! Snuck two in!)

Anyway, let’s get under the cut and see what this episode has to offer!

Press Release Emma, Mary Margaret, David, Regina, Mr. Gold and Hook enter Neverland to search for a kidnapped Henry, they’re greeted by a school of not-to-friendly mermaids who threaten to end their search before it begins; Henry finds himself on the run from the Lost Boys with another escapee from Peter Pan’s encampment; and Neal, recovering from his wounds, travels through the Enchanted Forest with Mulan in an attempt to learn the fates of Emma and Henry.

General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Neverland Seas ”I blame you.” Yeah, I disagree, Emma. For one thing, this plays a pretty small part of the overall story. For another, while they tried to convince her of what to do, it was Emma’s ultimate decision to do it. As she says, “We’re the same age. We have equal amounts of wisdom.” For a third, their decision, while endangering Henry, saved Regina. For a fourth, the only people’s faults for Henry’s capture are Greg and Tamara. *sighs* Look, I get Emma’s grief and worry, but this writing direction doesn’t feel genuine for her to deflect blaming Snow and David. It feels like a conflict was thrown in so that there would be more of a disconnect between her and her family. I love Emma, but I can admit when a scene makes her completely unsympathetic despite the framing telling me otherwise, and this is a prime example. And here’s the thing: This never comes up again! Emma doesn’t apologize to them. This moment is utterly pointless!

The importance of teamwork is the big theme of this segment and once we get over that hiccup of a scene as I just mentioned, it’s delivered incredibly effectively. The conflicts between the characters, both internal and external, are incredibly real and no one is holding back. And the twist of those conflicts causing the storm is handled well! Rumple presents the bare essence of the theme, about Emma’s lack of belief, and because he chooses to go off on his own, the narrative has him fail by putting him into a traumatising position, whereas Emma’s belief in their abilities as a team and, in correlation with Rumple’s speech, herself, allows for the rest of the Nevengers to succeed.

Neverland Island So I have a nice bit to say about this segment, but it all applies to my “Favorite Dynamics” segment, so you’ll see that down there!

Enchanted Forest There’s not really much to be said about the story other than I liked it. That’s not to say that I didn’t like it or I didn’t appreciate the characters re-introduced or the interactions between them, but it was rather simple and that just doesn’t leave me a lot to talk about in terms of a breakdown of themes of major character actions. Still, the pacing was nice and the story was engaging!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness -So I didn’t realize that Emma giving birth to Henry was the first scene of the season. For some reason, I was under the impression that it happened at the start of “Coming Home,” but I honestly love it being here. Immediately, you get the sense that this arc was well planned so that it could return to this moment at the end of “Coming Home.”

-Also, I love that flicker of light as Emma gives birth! Such a special part of Emma’s life -- one filled with both joy and misery as she decides to give Henry away -- deserves the magical treatment!

-I seriously got choked up as Emma denied her chance at being Henry’s mother from the start. There’s so much love for him from the start and while it’s causing her so much pain, she’s doing what she thinks is best for him. And the gentle and yet powerful way the theme plays in the background just kills me. Swan Believer forever!

-Damn, what a cool way to go back to the present! We’re put right in the action, not missing a minute of the adventure.

-I will NEVER get over how much I love hearing Killian say “Neverland.” Whether in “The Crocodile” or here, Colin puts so much energy into the word, encompassing the danger and adventure to be found there.

-”It’s a good thing you guys don’t ask any questions.” My sentiments exactly, Henry!

-”More time than I care to remember trying to leave this place to kill Rumplestiltskin.” This provides some interesting insight into Killian’s character. It implies (to me) that he devised his Dreamshade plan with quite a few years to spare before his escape, whereas I always assumed that the planning took most of the time and that the escape was just a pinch of time towards the end.

-”Villains don’t get happy endings.” It’s incredible that this line, said by a character that left so little of an impression, is what follows Regina, Rumple, and Killian throughout basically the rest of the series.

-”That’s a great use of our time. A wardrobe change.” To be fair, Killian, Rumple’s not going to be in fighting shape sporting a Calvin Klein suit. This...honestly weird ass outfit makes the most sense.

-”You don’t believe in your parents, you don’t believe in magic, or even yourself.” Talk about a kickass line of foreshadowing of all that she’s going to overcome by the end of this arc!

-”When have you ever taken a real leap of faith?” Give it about a half hour, Rumple!

-So I must say, it’s funny that a lack of evidence is brought up as such a big story element here, but once Tink enters the picture, it’s her need for evidence as to the safety of their voyage back that secures it. A bit of dissonance, but nothing too severe.

-I love how Rumple spins his cane as he disappears. Rumple is the most beautifully extra person across the realms.

-I probably should’ve discussed this last time, but I love the design for the Lost Boys. They give off this air of being lost souls and their numbers stand to make them very intimidating.

-So going off of Greg’s death as well as the events of “Awake,” I’m gonna say that a shadow rip doesn’t necessitate death unless the shadow ripper wants it to mean death.

-”No time for questions.” I like that subtle line that’s in tune with Greg and Tamara’s line of no asking questions, foreshadowing the revelation about him.

-Damn! JMO is strong!

-The dialogue in the scene with Neal, Mulan, Aurora, and Phillip flows so naturally!

-”How long was he with you?” ”Long enough for me to know that I miss him, too.” I normally don’t make timeline jokes, but...come onnnnn!

-”I will not be capsized by fish.” This may be my new favorite David line.

-Also, any pretense that murder leaves any long-lasting effects of Snow and David go the fuck away when David tries to kill mermaids.

-Why didn’t Regina get rid of them earlier?

-”If Pan wants you, he WILL get you.” This line is delivered so well. Pan is not only just barely holding out from outright bragging, but is trying to deteriorate Henry’s belief and seeing that it isn’t working, cementing his part to play in Pan’s ploy.

-”Lead the way.” Am I the only one humming “Follow the Leader?”

-I like how, until Rumple enchants her, Tamara physically can’t talk. Very realistic.

-You know, everyone talks about heart colors when it comes to Rumple, Regina, Snow, and Killian, but does anyone notice how Tamara’s heart was pretty freakin’ red when Gold crushed it?

-Did no one read “Lord of the Flies?” Get the conch shell away from your enemies!

-”Filet the bitch.” I’m starting to think that all of my favorite character lines in this show have to do with aquatic life.

-”We need to think this through.” Emma, that why they’re shouting at each other. They’re discussing the matter.

-Okay, so I’m not the biggest Robin Sr. fan (And I’m hoping that this rewatch changes that for the better), but this was a solid entrance. It feels iconic, plays to the character’s power and good nature, and the more neutral yet noble tone that the scene requires plays well to Sean’s strengths.

-”See these markings? He was keeping track of me growing.” Awwwww!!! Papafire moment! That was necessary and beautiful!

-I just realized, this is our intro to blood magic! Cool!

-”I ruined YOUR life?” Regina, please. I thought we were past that…

-”Don’t call my wife a slag!” Yeah, Killian. You deserved the fuck outta that punch.

-I love the music that plays during the flying sequence! It’s gorgeous, distinct, and whimsical!

-CAPTAIN CHARMING BROMANCE!!! We have taken off!

-So I’m guessing that Rumple has encountered Felix at least one or two times.

-”Each of us have been too busy being at each other’s throats to be believers.” Those things aren’t correlated.

-”We need to do this the right way.” “No, we don’t. We just need to succeed.” YESSSS! Emma! That is my girl! She gets her tactics from her mama!!

-”It’s easier to get people to hate something than to believe.” That’s...incredibly accurate.

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing? Everyone Working Together AND The Mission to Save Henry- ”It’s time for all of us to believe, not in magic, but in each other.” Emma’s speech took a sentence to get going, but once it did, DAMN did it get good! Now, as one gleams from this episode, these two arcs are one and the same. The only way Henry is saved is by working together, and this episode completely captures why that’s so important.

Emma Accepting Her Parents - This second-part-of-an-arc got off to SUCH a weak start, and that’s frustrating because I KNOW it gets better from here. But what I said above does apply.

Greg and Tamara - “We don’t ask questions. We just believe in our cause.” Holy crap. Tamara and Greg went from being two pretty intelligent and well designed villains into being total morons. I will say, part of me is glad that they did because if not, their conflict would’ve been way too close to a science vs. religion debate for comfort. But they also die here. To be honest, if anyone but Rumple was to find one of them, I’d rather it have been Greg who got the additional moments of life to speak and allow for Henry to get away. His story, well, was actually a story, whereas Tamara’s connection to Neal is loose at best.

Killian’s Redemption - Killian’s redemption takes an honest-to-goodness step forward. He’s acting on his decision to care about someone other than himself (And that shows through the two people aboard the ship that can stand him), but still has quite a bit of his verbal firepower and contempt (Towards David and Rumple) that reminds us of his villainous past and that his redemption won’t be all sunshine and rainbows.

Rumple’s Redemption - Rumple takes what is a realistic step back, though I’m not even certain I should call it a step back. Despite being his Rumple-y self, the narrative makes it very clear that his decision to dessert the group and chastise them beforehand are made on behalf of the mission to save Henry. And as we see the personal trials he’s already taken on in this pursuit with the confrontation with Pan’s minion, there’s so much power that grows with these decisions.

Regina’s Redemption - Regina also takes a step back into some of her more vicious tendencies: hating on Snow, defaulting to magic and violence for all her solutions. I personally like this because while there’s an understanding that these people are family, the anger and resentment between Regina and them is still present and in the heat of the moment, Regina won’t forget it. I will say, the Regina Blames the World trope is back and it still annoys me, though slightly less so here because the framing wasn’t going for sympathy in that moment.

Favorite Dynamic Henry and Pan. Pan’s dynamic with Henry sets up perfectly the kind of monster he will be for the rest of the season. He’s an incredible manipulator and plans out everything he says in order to activate Henry’s belief just when he needs to. Look at the way he set up the pixie dust and how that moment pays off! It’s makes for a triumphant moment that becomes terrifying in hindsight. But what makes this dynamic work so well is how it is set up. In the few minutes we see before Pan’s disguised appearance, Neverland has shown itself to be a cruel place. The location itself is darkly lit and the two villains of the previous season are violently murdered. Because of that, we as an audience clutch to Pan just as Henry does and because of that, for the first time, our belief causes suffering as the deception is exposed.

Writer Adam and Eddy, as usual start up the season! And I honestly like it. A lot of it is good! I’d compare it to the Season 1 finale where it’s a good mix of story and character moments (And just like in the Season 1 finale, has a completely pointless and aggravating moment, but thankfully, this one doesn’t mean a lot)! I feel like the characters were put in a solid place where they have room to grow and are put somewhere that keeps them intimate and gives them opportunities for great dynamics!

Rating 9/10. This episode is a great way to start off the season! The settings and themes have been set up well, and the characters are in good form! It’s exciting and adventurous, but nerve racking all the same. It makes me super excited for what’s to come!

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Captain Swan - Look, season 2 was not Captain Swan’s golden time for shipping (For me, at least), but Season 3 is here and they are glorious! Killian is incredibly respectful of Emma, comforts her over her worries, addresses underlying grief she has for Baelfire, and supports her as she prepares for Neverland’s horrors. It’s honestly amazing! Also, Emma and Killian are sailing the Roger together during the storm!! They’re working together and it is the BEST!!! Ship of dreams...quite literally! Swanfire - And don’t think I forgot about Swanfire! Both Emma’s grief and Neal’s devotion to getting back to her is such a big presence in this episode. “Tell Emma I’m alive, and that I love her.” Letting Emma know that he’s both okay and loves her is Neal’s main priority and that’s just incredible! And I loved Neal’s scene with Mulan as he discusses his regrets leaving Emma. <3

-----

Woohoo! Season 3 is off to a solid start and I can’t wait to take the rest of Peter Pan’s Flight! Thank you for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales!

Next time...I don’t know. Reader, help me out, cause I’m lost...girl… ;)

See you guys then!

Season 3 Total (9/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (9/60)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 3x01 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

18 notes · View notes

bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 5 years

Text

Legacies 1x08, Maybe I Should Start From the End -- Review

Guess what? Legacies is back in our lives. I know, I know, how have we possibly survived the past month without Julie Plec's trash in our lives? It was a little touch and go there, but we were strong and made it through so we could live to be tortured by this trash show another day. This week, we continue our Lega-Trash journey with 1x08, Maybe I Should Start From the End.

This is going to be an honest review of my thoughts and feelings regarding Legacies, the spin-off of a spin-off that should never have come to pass. But here we are. I'm not a fan of the show, have never pretended to be one, so if you're looking for Legacies positivity, this is not the place for you. Move along, this is not meant to be meant for you. I'm very critical about this show. Keep in mind these are my thoughts and feelings about this mess of a show. Opinions and ever right or wrong. I'm not telling you how to think and feel. You don't have to agree with my opinions but I would ask that you respect them please. Also, spoilers for the episode so if you haven't seen episode yet, watch the episode and then come back...otherwise read at your own risk. But let's be real here. I'm sure my followers who end up reading this have no desire to watch this show and use my ramblings as a substitute for actually watching the show...those selfish jerks (just kidding, I love all my followers and please only watch the show if you really want to). I'm making a sacrifice watching the show so you don't have to.

Throughout this episode we get treated to Hope narrating the entire thing and it's super annoying. I just generally find all things about Hope annoying but the sultry edge in her voice Danielle gives to the role of Hope is one of the things I find most annoying about Hope. She isn't coming off as sexy with that voice, she sounds pretentious. Kat McNamara also does the same thing with Clary in Shadowhunters and I hate it there as well. They don't come off as sexy when they use that voice, they sound like they think they're better than everyone else. Or at least that's what I hear. But anyway, we get to hear Hope narrarate at us in her pretentious voice for the entire episode, my poor ears, they truly suffered.

But in case you need a refresher of what happened in the last episode of Lega-Trash, The Avengers totally think they can dupe The Necromancer and are super surprised to find out that the chick he necromanced was actually being manipulated by him the whole time (perish the thought, a necromancer using someone they necromanced for nefarious purposes, shocking, I know). The Necromancer wins, Alaric and Hope continue to capitalize on their sexual tension (eww) and are super mad at each other, and Hope's bracelet glows which means Ele-I mean, Landon, is in danger. So Avengers unite, sort of. Despite Rafael seeing the bracelet glow, he doesn't actually go after Landon which is weird considering he's totally in love with Landon but anyways. Hope decides to go after Landon, so she dons her super sneaky high heeled boots and tries to sneak out of the school at 3am. And Alaric inevitably catches her. Hope, pro-tip here, if you're going to sneak out, maybe change up your choice for footwear or at least wait until you're not stomping around on a wood paneled surface to put said footwear on. And are you telling me that in all her vast knowledge of good and dark magic there wasn't a way for her to sneak out her window and avoid venturing into the foyer of the manor? I'm just saying, if you're not going to be smart about sneaking out than you deserve to be caught.

But Alaric decides to go with Hope to find out what happened to Landon. The two have really cringey conversations while on this roadtrip to #savelandon. One in particular where Alaric is all hurt that Hope seems to only see him as an authority figure. First of all, Alaric, you're giving yourself way too much credit. I highly doubt Hope even sees you as that, more like a pet whom she can use as the need arises. And second of all, how is she supposed to see you? You're the headmaster of this school, you ARE an authority figure. There shouldn't be anything extra going on with you two in any capacity because it's generally frowned upon for school officials to play favorites. Unless, you expect all of the students to look at you like a father, in which case, no wonder Lizzie and Josie have abandonment and self-worth issues when it comes to you. And if this is in reference to the completely inappropriate sexual tension you two have, you shouldn't want Hope to see you in that light. And I know its crazy to remind you, but you do have two daughters already who are suffering from loads of abandonment issues with you, maybe don't focus so much on Hope and start focusing on your daughters. Alaric has this horrible line, "Lizzie and Josie are with Caroline in Europe, thank god." Why are you happy that your daughters are gone? And also, why did they go to Europe? When Alaric was talking to Caroline in the birthday episode, it sounded like Caroline was amidst some pretty big shit and considering Caroline is searching for a way to stop the Gemini twin sucking curse and the girls don't know about it, the girls being in Europe seems like a pretty bad call.

But we also see what's going on with Landon. He finds his birth mother, hooray! The catch? His birth mother then proceeds to drug him and threaten to torture him because she doesn't believe he's her son. And then the creepy latex guy from Season 1 of American Horror Story shows up, mommy kills it and the two go to a motel because motels are totally safe and well-known for their escape routes...just ask Charlie Bradbury from SPN, oh wait, you can't...because she died in a motel room she couldn't escape from.

Oh and also, get this, Landon's mother appears to reside in Lawrence, Kansas. And this isn't the only parallel to SPN this episode makes, they make plenty of others. Julie Plec, you hack, write your own shit. There is no way this was a happy accident. There's no particular reason for his mother to be in Kansas at all so you can't tell me that choosing Lawrence, Kansas is just a happy coincidence.

But anyway, after being duped once by Landon's mother, Hope and Alaric finally catch up to them in the motel. The episode then spends entirely too long explaining the mother's back story and Landon's supernatural immaculate conception. Basically, Mom worked for a shady government that was trapping monsters in a hell dimension. It's like a cross between the SPN season 6 plot and the BMoL plot. But anyone who goes into the hell dimension (it's really a pit, though) is immediately erased, no one remembers them. Mom was betrayed by the government and thrown into the pit and for some reason, a couple of years later, she's thrown out of the pit, and surprise surprise, she's pregnant and has no idea how it happened or who the father is. I'm beginning to think Julie Plec has a fetish for miracle babies.

But Mom decides that since these monsters seem to be following Landon around that the only way to protect him is if she throws herself into the pit. I'm not sure what this accomplishes, how this in any way protects Landon, I guess it just makes it so that nobody remembers her which I'm also really confused about because then Landon shouldn't remember her...should that picture he has even exist? Why does it exist? Who took the picture? No one should remember her so they definitely shouldn't know about Landon. It's weird, maybe it'll be explained later but this is Julie Plec so I'm not counting on it. But while Mom is off sacrificing herself, the others get treated to another monster attack. This one is a merman, I think. He's strangely mobile on land, though. Landon has a supernatural urn with him the monster wants, they decide to use the urn to lead them to the pit to stop Landon's mother in her completely pointless self-sacrificing mission. Spoiler alert: They fail. The mom sacrifices herself...the merman gets blown up for some reason...and they decide to take the urn back with them, I'm sure it'll go just as smoothly as it did with the knife. But, everyone but Hope seems to have forgotten about their adventures that day. Because Hope just isn't special enough. So they all drive back to the school and Alaric decides that Landon can stay and I'm very confused by that decision. Wasn't the point of him being to forced to leave was because Landon is vulnerable being the only without supernatural abilities to protect himself? Regardless of the circumstances of his birth, he's still as vulnerable as a regular human so I feel like that whole debate a couple episodes ago is now completely pointless and that episode was a complete waste. But they get back to the school, Hope asks Landon if he wants to be her boyfriend and he agrees (I hadn't realized this was a conversation people actually had). And then its revealed that in Hope narrating this episode, she was actually telling Alaric everything he forgot. And then the urn starts glowing. I'm sure nothing bad is about to happen. Really, you decide to take the urn, something you have no idea what it is or what it does, to a place filled with children? I see no problems with this logic. And thankfully, the episode finally ends with a shady government official pushing another shady government guy into the pit because he found a picture of Landon's mother. Which is weird because everyone should have forgotten about her.

Once again, I find Hope irritating and without Lizzie around to give me some enjoyment, these episodes are really difficult to stomach. But Landon on occasion, can appear to be interesting so I will give the show that. It's too bad the actors for Landon and Hope have 0 romantic chemistry. Scenes with just these too being romantic? They're painful to watch. The dialogue was atrocious in this episode, I don't think there was a single line I liked. But we are getting plot now so I will give the show that. But the episode also takes entirely too long to get to the point. I'd probably give this episode a C+. Not great but it tries...sometimes.

#anti legacies #legatrash

2 notes · View notes

reviewsbyryan · 6 years

Text

The Top 10 Films of 2018 (so far)

A mid-year list of top films is nearly pointless in today’s industry, because all of the really good stuff (or, at least, what gets Oscar nominations) comes out much later in the year. I’m not saying that films who get those nominations are the best ones, but pretty much all of my favorite films last year hit theaters between November and January, inclusive. I have still enjoyed a great many movies in 2018, and I produce this list so that you may be aware of them (you likely already are) and aware of their likability (judging by some of their box office numbers, you likely are not).

#10: American Animals dir. Bart Layton

Equipped with a distorted view of the American dream and what it takes to attain it, four friends embark on a fool-hardy mission to steal millions of dollars worth of books from their university library. A spiced-up telling of a true story, director Bart Layton shows that it’s more about the journey than the destination. We know the heist is unsuccessful from the very beginning, but to watch the young men’s unpreparedness and naive overconfidence unfold before us is a thrilling adventure.

#9: First Reformed dir. Paul Schrader

The aging Rev. Ernst Toller of the historic First Reformed Church receives a wake-up call from the world when he is asked to counsel the husband of one of his congregation, a man with a history of arrests and potential for violence stemming from his radical environmentalism. Writer/Director Paul Schrader pens an entrancing and unexpected screenplay around his troubled main character, portrayed masterfully by Ethan Hawke. Shades of Schrader’s masterwork Taxi Driver (1976) are abundant, as Toller transitions quickly from isolated pastor to staunch idealist, antagonized by growing religious commercialism and an unavoidably deteriorating world.

#8: The Party dir. Sally Potter

A 70-minute-long single-set comedy shot entirely in black and white, the strength of Sally Potter’s screenplay comes from the amusement one gets watching privileged folk become more and more perturbed as they learn that their fellow elites are really only in it for themselves, and that what they wield in political power they lack in real, valuable relationships. Ending abruptly on perhaps the best plot twist I have seen this year, The Party is a petty, star-studded affair that justifies its existence with the entertaining evolution of the tumultuous associations of its characters.

#7: Beast dir. Michael Pearce

A young woman over-protected by her mother and eclipsed by her younger sister finds love in a mysterious rural-dweller, only to learn he’s been suspected of being the perpetrator of a series of brutal murders, primarily of other young women. Both she and the audience are left in the dark regarding the real truth, and his refusal to be open about his life only serves to arouse suspicions. Beautifully shot and skillfully executed, writer/director Michael Pearce takes us on quite a ride, and lead actress Jessie Buckley gives a marvelous performance as her character is unceasingly torn apart by conflicting feelings of love and fear.

#6: Thoroughbreds dir. Cory Finley

It is fun and amusing to say that Thoroughbreds’ most important lesson is that you should never trust a horse girl, but there’s admittedly more to it than that. The impressive directorial debut of Cory Finley is an exquisite dark comedy complete with sadistic performances from Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy (who is also amazing in The Witch, which you should watch if you haven’t yet). The two formerly-estranged friends rebuild their relationship as they plan the murder of Lily’s (Taylor-Joy) stepfather, a highly wealthy man who gives Lily everything she could want save for love and respect. Erik Friedlander’s string and percussion-heavy score is a lovely, quirky complement to the film as well.

#5: Upgrade dir. Leigh Whannell

Perhaps the most out-of-place film on this list, Upgrade is more of a Netflix-original-type B-movie as opposed to the typical arthouse fare that comprises the majority of the top spots. Most films of this form lack severely in interesting storytelling or technical execution, but I’m pleased to say this film has both. While the acting performances aren’t there, writer/director Leigh Whannell’s carefully-crafted sci-fi tale about a paraplegic widower who experiences newfound strength and intelligence with the help of a robotic spinal implant is surprising and so much fun. The action sequences are exciting and gory and over-the-top, and the camerawork is ingeniously complimentary to the rigid nature of the protagonist’s movements while under control of the mysteriously potent AI inside him.

#4: Hereditary dir. Ari Aster

A24 studios continue to have a good eye for modern horror films. After they picked up the critically-acclaimed Killing of a Sacred Deer last year, they found new success with another family-centered psychological scare in Ari Aster’s Hereditary. Toni Collette gives a terrifying performance as the mother in a family long-plagued by mental problems and supernatural possession. Aster makes clever use of framing in order to deliver the biggest fright to the audience, and does so without utilizing a single jumpscare, an approach of which I am a huge fan. The film’s accessibility is also a huge asset; it’s wide release provided many a welcome break from the unimaginative drivel that gets rolled out every time a Friday, the 13th rolls around.

#3: Annihilation dir. Alex Garland

Wow, it’s really cool that no one went to see this...

It wasn’t long ago that the Ghostbusters 2016 people were talking about how we never have female scientists in movies, only to make some crappy movie where the actresses just improvise a lot and make poop jokes. Here’s a fantastic sci-fi/horror film from the director of Ex-Machina (2014) with an all-female lead cast where all the characters are smart and possess a variety of knowledge and skills. The sound design is excellent, the premise is intriguing, and the final act is legitimately terrifying. Natalie Portman is great, too. But instead this got sent straight to Netflix in most places and failed to turn a decent profit. Stupid.

#2: You Were Never Really Here dir. Lynne Ramsay

Lynne Ramsay’s stylistic, radical deconstruction of the action genre turns You Were Never Really Here into a fascinating and unnerving character study. It’s also another film on this list that’s a lot like Taxi Driver (1976). Joaquin Phoenix portrays a psychologically wounded war veteran who works as a private enforcer, hunting down and mercilessly killing criminals who traffic and exploit children. Meanwhile, his character is constantly at war within his own head, making him unpredictable and worthy of our sympathy. Beautiful cinematography and Johnny Greenwood’s dissonant score enrich the experience two-fold.

#1: Isle of Dogs dir. Wes Anderson

Complete with one of the greatest voice casts the world has ever seen, Wes Anderson’s heartwarming adventure about a Japanese boy who travels to a remote island to find his dog is one of the finest animated features you’ll find anywhere. The set and character design is magnificent, with so much attention to detail; the look of the dogs is especially laudable. Isle of Dogs is also rich with beautiful homages to Japanese culture. The banter between the dogs is funny, the destitute conditions of the titular island are heartbreaking, and Atari’s love and determination in the search for his own “man’s best friend” melted my heart into a puddle. Nothing pleases me more than to be able to, once again, grovel at Wes Anderson’s feet.

#Movie Review #Movies #Film #Top 10 #American Animals #First Reformed #The Party #Beast #Thoroughbreds #Upgrade #Hereditary #Annihilation #You Were Never Really Here #Isle of Dogs #Wes Anderson

18 notes · View notes

kpopdancings · 3 years

Text

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE, SỰ KHÁC NHAU GIỮA TIỂU THUYẾT VÀ PHIM

New Post has been published on http://www.whatsupkpop.com/howls-moving-castle-su-khac-nhau-giua-tieu-thuyet-va-phim/

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE, SỰ KHÁC NHAU GIỮA TIỂU THUYẾT VÀ PHIM

HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE: DIFFERENCES BETWEEN NOVEL AND MOVIE

Link Video:

youtube

Opening

Stay tuned with ASK KPOP until the end of the video to see what made “romantic fiction” fans disillusioned with the difference between novels and movies Howl’s moving castle.

Body

The difference in the story between the novel and the movie

Throughout the movie, we see a fight break out between Ingary (the land of Howl and Sophie is in) and the neighboring country, whereas there is no fierce battle in the original novel.

The difference in the character’s personality between the novel and the movie

(Howl)

(Sophie)

(Author)

(Witch)

()

Ending

#HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE

0 notes

nightmareofcat · 6 years

Text

Act of God

Loki brought a finger to his lips, tapping them in thought. I know not if I have any better ideas, last one I had involved maiming the idiot we just left. Perhaps you should make the plans for now, would not want to injure myself.

“Yourself? I thought you wanted to injure him.” Sophie laughed. “We just finished injuring me. I told you I could do it.”

“I had meant injuring myself thinking but you do make a point.” He grinned then gently tugged her out behind him when the elevator doors opened to their floor. “What do you have in mind to keep us occupied for the evening?”

“I had plans at one point in my life. Then S.H.I.E.L.D. showed up and there you were.... and plans... have kind of been pointless since then.” She followed Loki down the hall, being pulled by the hand. “But you sure are in a hurry.”

Loki stopped abruptly, turning to face Sophie with a furrowed brow. “So you are saying my presence has ruined your plans? Interesting.” He dropped her hand to open the apartment door and stride in.

“Yep. You sure did ruin my plans to maybe get a cat if I managed to avoid becoming homeless. You're a horrible person.” Sophie sighed and clicked her tongue for Toukka. “Come here, baby, lunch time for you!”

The green eyed god was already in the kitchen getting food for his weasel friend when what she said registered. He dropped the package of ground meat on the counter harder than necessary. “Finally admitting I am a horrible creature? Took you long enough. I am sure Toukka would love to be replaced with a feline, easier to care for after all; it won't attack guests after all.” He grabbed a plate out of the cupboard. Toukka, food.

Said weasel was on his way to Sophie when Loki called for him, he stopped in his tracks' whipping his little head back and forth between the two, confused on who to go to.

Sophie pointed at the kitchen and followed Toukka in. Loki's face seemed stormy as she picked up the ermine and kissed the top of its head, before setting him on the counter next to the plate. “Who pee'd in your Wheaties? You sure are cranky all of a sudden.” She asked Loki, folding her arms over her chest.

“No one.” He unwrapped the meat then dropped a good sized chunk on the plate. “I'm fine, nothing is wrong. Just being my normal, horrible self.”

She moved closer to Loki and put her face in his. “Liar.” She shot. “You were fine. Then we went to train and you've been snapping ever since.”

“The reality of what is coming is truly sinking in, I am also training you to defend yourself as much as possible from certain death and you expect me to be rainbows and sunshine?” Loki snapped back. “Please allow me to correct my horrible self.” He stroked down the weasels back once then plastered a fake smile on his face. “I am truly sorry darling, I did not mean to be such a boor. Please ignore me as I go beat myself within an inch of my life to correct my attitude.” He gave a half bow then turned to fill a bowl with water for the weasel.

Sophie let out another exasperated sigh. “Really? That's how this is going to be?”

“You don't have to be sunshine, but come on... no one deserves this attitude.” Her finger caught under his chin and she caught his gleaming eyes with hers. “Even YOU.”

“Says the woman whose life plans I ruined.” Loki jerked his head away then glared at the counter top.

“That was sarcasm, oh ye of the sliver tongue.” Sophie let her hand drift to his waist and gently poked him. “Maybe I DO have plans...” She grinned. “Maybe I have plans for what I'm going to do with you.”

“And what could those possibly be?” Teeth clenched while he kept glaring a hole through the island.

She leaned up and pressed her lips gently against Loki's ear. “Do you want me to tell you, or show you?” She whispered before tugging his earlobe with her teeth.

Loki's whole body twitched as his jaw relaxed in a small gasp, his mood doing a complete 180 from the glowering from a moment ago. “Both.”

She bit his ear a bit harder, then firmly whispered, “OR.”

“Tell me.” The now flustered god replied breathlessly, the barest hint of a moan tinting his words.

A small grin crossed Sophie's lips as she thought about just how easy this all was. She leaned in on his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck. “Short term?” She purred. “There's a guy here and I just can't seem to keep my hands off of him, it's like I have touch him to believe he's real. But right now he's pouting so much, it makes me want to push him around until he comes to his senses. So I thought maybe I could bite on his ear a bit,” She nipped at his soft lobe and then just along his neck. “Maybe down here, just to see if I can get him to flinch. If he just stands there like a doll, I might treat him like one. When you play with dolls, the first thing you do is undress them, so you can change their clothes later. That's just my plan if he tries to be a tough guy.”

Sophie's white teeth scraped against Loki's pale throat again, “Now, if he gives in and smiles and gets over it, I might just give him a great big kiss and if it goes well ask him back to the bedroom. But I doubt if he will give in.”

Loki releases a loud sigh and squeezes his eyes closed. “Comparing me to a doll, good way to ruin the mood, elskling. Maybe I should have gone with the show option.” He scoops up the now full Toukka to cradle him close then steps away from Sophie. “This man is obviously an idiot; then again he never gives in that easily, nice try love.”

“Obviously!” Sophie huffed and flopped face first on the counter.

“Careful, elskling. You don't want to break the counter.” He sat on a stool nearby, amused by her frustration.

“Arrrg!” She growled and slapped at the marble in frustration. “Why me?”

“Because slamming someone else’s face into marble is highly frowned upon?” An elegant black brow arched in her direction. Toukka hopped from his hold to bounce toward the miffed woman.

Sophie's head lifted to let her gape at him in disbelief, her fair hair falling over into her face. She wagged her finger at him slowly and gave him a broad grin. “You! Right now, you just guaranteed that everything is going to turn out just fine. There is no way that I am not going to spend years figuring out the perfect way to get you back for acting like this.”

“Yes and I fear that it would probably be on our wedding night; me all tied up so I cannot escape, you get me worked up to the point of madness then suddenly remember that you have a meeting or something of the sort to attend to.” Loki let out a dramatic sigh. “Then again there is always the afterlife. Wouldn't that be an adventure?” His head rested on his hand. “You tormenting me for all eternity while also being tormented by the goddess of death herself? Such a thrilling concept.” Green eyes blinked rapidly as a sassy grin cracked his lips.

Sophie burst out laughing. “Oh God, Loki Friggasson, I love you so much right now.” She unconsciously reached out and stroked Toukka, almost to bring him in on the joke.

Loki actually gave a real, broad smile at Sophie. “And I love you, elskling.”

“I knew I could do it.” She smiled back.

“Do what, love?” He tilted his head, curious.

“Give in and smile, dear.” She stood upright and approached Loki.

Green eyes softened as she came closer, a fond smile replacing the broad grin. “There’s my girl.”

Her soft lips covered his and her fingers rested lightly on his shoulders. “This is the part where I invite you to the bedroom, unless you prefer the kitchen.”

“Hmmm...” Loki pretended to think about it. “The kitchen is one place we have not christened but I care not either way. One important thing must be answered first.” He withdrew enough to look her in the eye. “Do you wish to move under your own power or do I carry you?”

Sophie's arms wound around the back of Loki's neck, his dark hair brushing along her hands. She gave Loki a look wicked enough that it could have come from himself. “I want to fly.”

“Well in that case.” His look matched hers; Loki swooped in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, hands immediately going to the backs of her thighs and lifting. As soon as her legs wrapped around his waist, me moved quickly back to the bedroom to drop her on the bed.

She laughed as she bounced and quickly made her way up to her knees so that she could reach up and pull Loki down after her. “See I have plans.”

“You and your nefarious plans.” Wasting no time, he joined her on the bed, lips chasing after hers.

Sophie kissed him back playfully. Her tongue teased his, as it was hard to purse her lips around her smile. “I'm nefarious.. And I didn't even have to bite you!”

“I am certainly not opposed to biting.” His teasing grin moved down to her neck where he gave her a firm nip along her pulse.

She gasped at the feel of him on her neck. Her fingers slipped up under his shirt, searching out the soft skin of his waist and tickled just enough to feel him twitch.

Loki grunted when her fingers found a sensitive spot. “You, young lady, had better stop.”

“Or what?” She poked him again and kissed his forehead. Her toes drug up along the back of his calves. “Hmmmm?”

“Or I will tie you up and leave you here until I am good and ready to continue.” He growled into the skin under her ear.

That growl traveled right down Sophie's spine, and swam hotly between her legs before it shot right up into her chest, making her heart pound. Being playfully brave, she crawled her fingers up his sides one more time. “What will it take to get you ready? I won't hold my breath for good.”

“Thought turning blue was my job?” A hot tongue traced along the column of her throat and bit her collarbone once her fingers caught his sides again. “You should know by now it doesn't take much to get me ready but I may make an exception and tease ruthlessly by not touching you while I pleasure myself.”

A moan from deep inside leaked out of her and her tickling fingers clutched at Loki to pull him closer. “Like I said, I won't last waiting for good.”

Loki propped himself up enough to look down at Sophie. “I wonder...”

Her hands slid up further inside of his shirt along his chest as her legs wrapped around his and pulled them tight to her. “I wonder what?”

Hips rolled into hers before he backed away completely. “If I can make you beg without touching you.” His lips attached to hers in a filthy kiss. Before she could react and latch onto him again, Loki stood up at the end of the bed and kicked off his boots. “Take your clothes off, elskling. Do not touch yourself, just the clothes.” His sharp gaze locked with hers, emerald fire smoldering within his eyes.

Sophie's mouth opened to say something, but she paused and closed it as she was almost hypnotized by his eyes. Her eyes widened slightly while she surprisingly nodded her head. She got up to her knees again and silently pulled her shirt off over head, her eyes didn't leave his as she reached back to unhook her bra.

Her nipples rose as she removed it, if it was from the cool air or Loki's hot stare, she didn't know. “What are you planning?” She whispered.

Loki’s eyes raked hotly over the supine form of Sophie, taking in the vision she made. Like a feast waiting to be devoured. He stopped his perusal with his head tilted downward and looking into her eyes from under his lashes, a wicked grin spread across his face. “I plan on seeing how long it will take.” Deft fingers slid very slowly from his collar bone to his waistband before palming himself through his pants. “For you to ask for this, explicitly. How much teasing you can withstand before the ache becomes too much and you beg for my touch and to be touched in return.”

His thumb hooked into the belt buckle of his pants as the other hand traveled up his chest and around the back of his neck then through his hair before bringing it forward and sliding his palm across his cheek and pausing his spread fingers in front of his mouth, his tongue flicking between them lewdly. “I want to take you apart, my darling, slowly and intimately.” Loki’s voice dropped into a gravelly whisper while his fingers moved once more to the opening of his shirt and popped a single button, the absolutely wicked grin still pointed in her direction.

Sophie looked up at Loki with an amused smile, but serious eyes were watching his pale fingers. “Astin min, you want me to beg and be explicit?” She propped herself up against the pillows at the head of the bed, making herself comfortable and refusing to admit that his voice alone was already dangerously close to making her reach for him.

“Yes love, be explicit. Tell me exactly what you need.” A single finger slid down to the next button, popping it open then continuing to the next one agonizingly slow, the pale skin beneath being revealed millimeter by millimeter.

She bit her lip and looked up at him with a slight blush. “You're doing fine.” He was actually making her very aware of her own nudity and she laid her arms over her chest.

“Don't!” Loki's command came out more biting than he intended. “Let me see you; while I tease you I torture myself, seeing all of your delicious skin displayed before me like a feast... It is taking every molecule of self-control I possess not to pounce upon you and devour you until I am sated.” He licked his lips as his emerald orbs moved over Sophie like a caress. “With you eternity would not be long enough to sate my appetite, my darling.” The final button came free, exposing his abdomen and chest. With a shrug, Loki dropped the shirt from his shoulders to pool in the crook of his arms.

Sophie drew her arms back at Loki's bark and laid her hands flat against the bedding. Her eyes slid across his marble abdomen and up until they met his. After his correction, her tone was much more acquiescent than usual. “Yes, Loki.”

She looked at him, really looked, almost critical or appraising. She was wordless for a moment while she thought, ‘He is so handsome and beautiful at the same time. And for some reason, he loves ME.’

Sophie exhaled with a breathy sound and spoke gently. “You are every inch a god and king. Let me see you?”

"Oh you will, elskling, you will indeed." The shirt finally slid down his arms the rest of the way; Loki threw it across the room with a flourish, eyes still locked with hers. Loki took a moment to study Sophie, admiring all of her soft curves.

Both of his hands slipped to his waistline, deft fingers undoing the belt slowly and popping the button. The tips of his fingers dipped teasingly out of sight past the opening of his pants then twirled within the fine hairs leading upwards toward his navel, further up they traveled in a light caress until he came to his nipples. Loki teased the small buds while biting his lip, green eyes glazing over in lust as a moan built within his throat. “What do you want to see, my Sophie? Tell me what you need.”

A small sound escaped her and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. “I need you to put your finger in your mouth, get it wet and do that again.” Sophie said in a throaty voice. “Your eyes were amazing when you did that.”

Ever so slowly; one of those fingers slid up the center of his chest, past the arch of his neck and slid between his bite swollen lips. His tongue swirled around the digit before sucking gently, keeping their eyes locked. Once thoroughly wet, Loki brought it back to his nipple. Instantly his pupils blew wider as a breathless gasp snuck past his lips.

Sophie's pupils matched Loki's and her breathing grew a bit deeper. She smiled. Not looking away from Loki's eyes, she asked him, “Don't stop, but you really ARE keeping my initials right there on your chest, aren't you?”

Lokis free hand slid over the letters carved in his chest and smiled. “Of course, keeping a piece of you with me at all times. From then till the end and my body turns to dust.” Said hand then moved to the neglected nipple and pinched, causing a gasp to form.

Sophie bit her lip. Gah! His nipples were pink. Is this what he liked? It should have been her feeling the texture of his skin change beneath her fingers. Her heart was beating hard after his words. This shouldn't be turning her on so much. “You're wonderful, astin min. You don't need a piece, you have all of me. Now let me see what you like. Your pants?”

With a lusty grin, Loki slid his thumbs down either side of his navel and the dark hair pointing down toward the growing bulge in his pants. Thumbs met at the small opening of his waistband then slipped past it, hooking along the edges and tugging down slightly before pausing. “Do you want them off or just down, love?”

“Off, please.” She whispered. Sophie eyelids were hooded as she watched him. She was sure she had noticed his hands and fingers before, but right now they were the most amazingly powerful and graceful things she had ever seen. Did they look like that when they touched her, like they were dancing?

Her breasts shivered as she took in a stuttering breath. “You can take your time.”

Loki grinned at Sophie, loving the effect he was having on her. Slowly his hands slid down the sides of his thighs, then around to the back. He turned around so she could see him cup his own bottom then slide back up and into his pants, shimmying ever so slowly off his sculpted butt while he threw a naughty smile over his shoulder.

Sophie sunk white teeth into her full lip. Her fingers curled gently around the blanket under her and her eyes fluttered. “I know you know what your best assets are. I think I want to bite that asset.”

He turned back around, pants still clinging to his upper thighs and covering the hardest part of him. “You want it? You have to beg, darling.” A hand slipped down past the small area still covering his member and squeezed, drawing a stifled groan from him. “You can see what your mere gaze does to me, my love.” His hand wrapped around his shaft. “And I can see the evidence of what I do to you clinging to the apex of your thighs; oh how I want to bury my tongue within those folds and suckle the sweetness from within, but I won't, not until you beg me for relief.”

A breathy moan escaped Loki while he gave himself a few short strokes to his length.

Sophie moaned along with him when his hand moved along the fabric covered bulge. Her thighs closed and rubbed together, half in response to his comment and half because she was starting to crave the friction. “Loki. Please? All the way off? Let me see you like you see me. Let me see your cock, let me see you touching it.”

With a shifting of his hips, the pants fell to puddle around his ankles. Loki stepped out of them, his fist still wrapped around his turgid length. “Open your legs for me, darling. Let me see you.”

She whined as she reluctantly spread her knees apart. The air was cool against her. She wanted the warmth and touch of the hand that was wrapped around his member. Sophie could almost feel his fingers pressing inside her. When she spoke her voice cracked a little. “Your turn, please, my king. Touch yourself like you want me to.”

“Oh love.” Loki moaned with another short stroke. “I can feel your eyes caressing me and it feels glorious.” Loki knelt on the end of the bed between her spread legs, scooting further up yet being sure to no parts of them touched. He could swear the temperature rose a few more degrees being this close to her center, it was maddening and thrilling at the same time.

As Loki knelt between her spread legs, the length of his strokes increased. Gliding smoothly along the shaft and over the engorged head before repeating the motions. Blazing green eyes locked with hers while he pleasured himself, loud moans filling the space. “Elskling, you are a vision. I can feel the heat radiating from you, I want to feel it around my fingers.” His head tilted back with an especially load moan. “Feel you wrapped around my cock as I slide within you so slowly it drives us both to insanity, savor every heavenly inch of flesh on flesh.”

Sophie's breathing was now matching his strokes. Her stomach fluttered and each heart beat was sending electricity through her breasts and core. She wanted to look away from his eyes to watch his pale fingers brush over the darker head of his penis, but he had her caught like a snake with a bird.

Loki's moans were shivering along her spine even more so than his words. Eventually Sophie gave in and moaned herself as she ground her hips into the bed. She gazed up at his form, and watched him as he leaned above her. His ecstasy was so beautiful and frustrating it almost had a physical presence that she could feel. It turned the fluttering inside of her into a winding tightness. She could feel her own wetness now and her nipples ached to be touched.

“Lo-ki, please?” Sophie's hand reached up and twitched, trying to touch herself and Loki at the same time.

Loki's eyes fluttered as he smiled at the sweet sound of her plea. “Please what, darling?” His unused hand went behind him to support his weight as he leaned back, his head tilting up to the ceiling in pleasure while arching into his own fist. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I need you to ... touch me. Please.” Her hand slid up on her hip, pushing her hips further into the mattress. “Unnnh god...” Sophie could feel herself clenching against nothing. “I want... unh.. I NEED you to touch me. To squeeze my breasts, your beautiful hand between my legs, fingers deep and thumb making me scream... please.”

She moaned and raised her swaying hips with every bit of lewdness he had been displaying. “I need you, my king.”

Loki straightened himself then leaned forward, supporting his weight on a single arm next to her head. Emerald orbs blazed into hers. “As you wish, my queen.” The hand not supporting him touched her knee in a feather light caress, sliding up the inside of her thigh and grazing a finger up her core. His journey continued upward, dipping into her navel then higher still to circle first one nipple then the other. Never stopping, just grazing his fingers along her skin. Loki's fingers made it to her neck then further still to cup the side of her jaw, his thumb sliding along her bottom lip.

#act of god #notpedeka #dont get too excited #who knows when the juicier bits will be posted

62 notes · View notes