#5 literally has a polo shirt

[tianhai03]

how would you rank dante outfits in terms of sluttiness?

4 is at the top. I know everyone has their own preferences on which Dante design is the best but I think we can all agree 4 is by far the sluttiest outfit he's had. The chaps alone would win against every other outfit

Then it's probably... 3, 1, 2 then 5

[splankie]

call me a jasonologist if you will

[leclercskiesahead]

He’s pretty in pink

Like father like son

[fanfictilltheend]

As promised (since I'm late sorry 😭) Snippet 5 of ❤️‍🔥Violent Heart❤️‍🔥 aka stepdad!mechanic!convict!joel x afab!reader fic

I SWEAR I WROTE THIS BEFORE HE WORE THIS OUTFIT ON GOD I LITERALLY SPOKE IT INTO EXISTENCE YOU CAN THANK ME BELOW 👇

Warnings: Nothing crazy just joel admiration and dressing him up 😍

Context: Joel is Y/N's ex step-father. He just got out of prison for killing David and Y/N (age 20) takes Joel shopping for a new wardrobe.

HERE IS A LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF VIolent Heart STUFF TO TIDE YOU OVER

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively. 

Finally you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the mens version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

HERE IS A LINK TO A MASTERLIST OF VIolent Heart STUFF TO TIDE YOU OVER

[thatuselesshuman]

Caspers Guide to Social Events

(Specifically events where you don't really know anyone so you have to smile and make small talk)

Whether it be a baby shower, a wedding, or just some random ass get together, we've all been in that situation where you have no clue who anyone is except for the person that invited you but you're expected to not implode. No one likes it, but we all have to laugh and pretend we're not watching the clock, hoping enough time will pass that it's socially acceptable to leave.

You may be thinking that you're just resigned to this fate forever, cursed to make small talk you never really understood in the first place because you're autistic, but fear not! This very guide is here to help

Hopefully this makes those events at least go by faster, if not bearable

Without further adieu...

Step One: Dress for the Occasion

Most events you go to will have a dress code of some sort. If you're not sure what it is, ask whoever invited you. Usually, it'll be one of a few options: casual, Sunday/church wear, business casual, semi-formal, and formal. We'll go through each of these below.

Casual: This is exactly as it says, casual. Wear what you feel most comfortable in. Don't wear anything too dumpy though, like pj's or stained jeans. This one is very dependent on your personal style, so I'd say a good rule is to pick something you'd go to a nice restaurant in.

Sunday/church wear: Nicer clothing. A safe bet would be khakis and a polo for guys, and a sundress for girls. If you go to church, this one is pretty easy, as you literally would just wear what you'd wear to church.

Business casual: This one is the toughest in my opinion. I'd say a nice blouse and pants is a good approximation, but this one is where I'd ask my friend what they were wearing.

Semi-formal: Dress shirt and pants for guys, nice cocktail dresses for women. Don't wear anything too revealing or flashy.

Formal: Suit and tie for men, ankle/calf-length dresses for women. Nothing too poofy, but it's fine to have a bit of flare. Just once again, nothing revealing or too flashy. Showing your shoulders is fine, but I'd say limit your cleavage and no super high slits.

Step Two: Brainstorm Talking Points

Life is much easier when you have talking points. If you go in with a plan of attack, you won't be put on the spot so often. Below are some common events and usual conversation topics.

Wedding: The couple getting married, relation to the couple, basically just anything about the person getting married

Baby Shower: Baby name, relation to couple/mother, how cute the baby is going to be, if you're going to be an aunt/uncle/etc how excited you are

Work Get Together: Current project, your position, basically anything about work

Generally Good Topics: "cute outfit, where'd you get it", "The weather has been good/bad", "The food is delicious", "how are you"

Step Three: Getting to the Event

A good rule is the five minute rule. Either be 5 minutes early, on time, or 5 minutes late. For something like a wedding, on time or 5 minutes early is great. For a Baby Shower, on time or 5 minutes late is good. For a Work Get Together, 5 minutes late is acceptable. Basically, if it's formal be on time, if it's more casual you have some leeway.

Step Four: Have a Drink in Your Hand

This one may seem silly, but there's logic behind it. Having a drink in your hand makes you look less awkward, gives you something to do with your hands, and gives you an excuse not to talk to people. It doesn't have to be alcoholic (it's probably better if it's not tbh), I've done this with water. What matters is that you can take sips of it which gives you something to do. It also has the added bonus of helping you blend into the crowd as just another face.

Step Five: All Things Small Talk

The dreaded small talk. No one likes it, we all do it. Fear not, however, as I will personally walk you through some common small talk and explain it in a way even me, an autistic individual, would understand.

"How are you?": Unless you're really close, they aren't asking you how you're really doing. If you're doing great say great, if you're doing okay say good, if you're barely surviving say fine/okay. Once you answer, it's courteous to say "How about you?" back. Keep the conversation light.

"The weather is good/bad": Basically just talk about the weather. If it's decent, then say that. If you like cold weather better, say something like "It is pretty nice, but I personally would prefer if it cooled off a bit more. I'm not built for warm temperatures". If you like it warmer, say the inverse of the sentence above. Keep the conversation light.

"Cute outfit": Say thank you then find something about their outfit to compliment. If you can't find anything specific, you can just say "thanks! Your outfit is cute as well!"

"Cute outfit, where'd you get it?": Don't go through the list of where you got everything. Pick one or two of the biggest components and tell them that. "Oh I got this dress from target" "Oh I got this shirt from Anne Taylor". If they ask further, that's when you can add more details.

"How is school/work?": a joke or something would work wonderfully here. "Oh y'know how it is, I'm chugging along" "I'm surviving" "it's been alright" are all also good options. Once again, keep the conversation light.

Step Six: Leaving

Our favorite part, am I right? Now, to leave tactfully, there's some rules that'll make leaving seem alright. If one of the following occurrences is true, you are free to leave

Over half of the event has passed

Someone has already left

It's past 10 pm (assuming the event didn't start at 10 or later)

A lull in the event occurs (switching between areas, etc)

You have already informed people that you can't stay long

"Oh I have to get [person] home"

"I have a test to study for/a project to complete/something to do early tomorrow"

"I have [different event] to get to"

Any of the above accompanied by enough goodbyes and apologies (usually a "sorry i couldn't stay longer") will be seen as perfectly acceptable in most applications.

Now, that should be all you need to get through any social event life throws your way. Get out there and suck at small talk slightly less than before!

(If you have any extra questions I'm happy to answer them)

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group E Round 4

[image ID: the first image is of The Cashier, a Thai man in a white or light blue polo shirt and black cap. at least one of his ears are pierced. the second image is of Stag Malinay, a young man with auburn hair and yellow-orange eyes. he's wearing a black shirt, black pants, and black, lace up knee high boots with belt straps. he's sitting on a red and gold throne. beside him is written his name, "Stag Malinay." end ID]

The Cashier

The world is literally ending. The moon is exploding. And this guy is still working as a cashier at some convenience store because the world might as well end anyways. He still insists that people pay for what they get from the store even though the world is going to end in a few hours. Then this strange guy shows up and questions him about it and asks him if he's afraid to die. The cashier is like "no not really" and the guy responds "well clearly you don't know what it's like to die" and the cashier responds "well have you died before" and the guy is like "no. I'm Death >:3" so what does the cashier do? he buys the man a drink and lets him crash at the store for the next several hours until the guy gets possessed by a different supernatural entity and runs out of the store to try to save the world. The cashier is just such a chill guy and insane customer service worker I love him so much I wish he had a name in canon.

Stag Malinay

Very self confident, bisexual manwhore with a troubled background he doesn't like to talk about. Said past is the cause of all his anger issues which he regularly takes out on the MC, initially. They become friends later, so it's okay. Also, he has a Tumblr account! @stagmalinay, run by me, the author. Can't really get more obscure than only selling a few copies of my entire book so far. [additional propaganda 1] [additional propaganda 2] [additional propaganda 3] [additional propaganda 4] [additional propaganda 5] [additional propaganda 6]

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

haedcanoms ..... fro anyome yuo can thimkdj of 🙏🙏🙏🙏💥💯💯

this is gonna be. a big block of text. uve enabled me and now im gonna talk for forever. uh. :3333 (also a shit ton of my hcs are just me projecring shjt so.)

okayyyy uh. dave went to private school for like. 4 years. he didnt follow any rules and wouldve definitly gotten expelled ljke 2 weeks in but bro strider is. so fucking rich so he just payed to keep him kn. he still had to wear those stupid ass uniforms tho and now he absolutely hates wearing polo shirts. fuckinf despises them.

sollux??? massive h*r fan he makes a shit ton of uber obscure references that like no one gets but him and he makes liek anyone hes ever had a positive interaction with watch it. aradia also likes it bc he made it like impossible not to if youre close enough to him. he kinda got terezi in2 it and she really likes trogdor.ike REALLY likes trogdor.

speaking of aradia and sollux aradias like a massive goth music fan and they listen to that stuff together like all the time. he listens to more,,, mainstream ig stuff regularly but then aradia makes him listen to her entire collection whenever theyre together

Jane can speak french,,, shes not french or anything in thr SLIGHTEST but she learned it bc like. idk desserts are french sometimes. and she just randomly starts speaking french to be annoying n fuck with ppl. roxys learned a little bit from her so sometimes she does too but. rarely.

terezi sollux and feferi friendship 🙏🙏 thsyre so. important to me. i dont remember how much they imteract all together in canom ik jts at least once but... theyre literally a version of the primary colors please thsyrs so friedn group that youd think would hate eachother but they surprisingly dont

jane crochets also alongside baking. she makes people shit like. all the time and probably spends way too much on yarn. she does it while watching all those dumb sitcoms??? whatever theyte called (like parks and rec and arrwsted development and the good place. that stuff). she also sometimes hamgs out with rose and they crochet/knit together

dirk and roxy make like the most shitpost stupid meme references (more often roxy) and like no one else gets them or rreally finds them funny bc theyre all from like. 2009. or ehatever while roxy n dirk are from. the future (i forgot when and no im not lokking jt up) roxy especially has like. dumb tumblr humor and will say the weirdest shit and no one will get it except dirk

feferi sends sollux videos like "t)(is reely reminds me of you ♥️" and then its a 5 minute jerma laighing at car crashes compilation or some shit.

dave makes that type of music that either sounds like actual shit or really good depending on the person. like uber expirimental fucked up random sfx dumbest lyrics ever etc etc (idk how to describe it but like. if uve listened to like.... queef jerkey thats what im imagining)

if were imagining that quest for the missing spoon exists in homestuck (since the comics do, plus theres other stuff like movies and plushes) dirk definityly had the pepsi blue chilis centerfold cutout on his wall. i also think him and maybe roxy??? quote that shit like not even on purpose CONSTANTLY since it was such a big franchise. also i think itd be funny if people talked ab it like how they talk ab harry potter and shit like "oh my god im SUCH a geromy."

aradia plays cello. like this absolutely fucking massive one too thats like deep reddish wood and its heavy as hell and it shouldnt be feesibly possible for her to carry it around but she can skmehos??? and shes really fucking good too. she likes 2 play for fer friends n partners

feferi adores tmbg esp their earlier stuff but she likes it all. shes got a playlist of every single one of their songs she could get ahold of and badically only listesns to that one playlist. she also knows a shit ton about the band itself and knows fun facts about like every song and will NOT hesitate to infodump whenever something slightly related comes up in conversation.

sollux LOVES classic tetris hes extremely fucking good at it and knows how to do all the weird shit w/ the controller like hypertapping and rolling and honestly probably made up something new. he basically only plays past killscreen (he found an nes somehow and hacked jt to let him start anywhere) and is the type of guy to be like "Oh yeah thii2 2hiit2 ea2y here II'll giive you a begiinner level two." and then. start you at level 29.

i have more i think but i cant remember any besides like "__ is a fan of "__ !!!!!" bc i just live projecting my interests onto characters. again sorry for so many words um. 💔

[trrickytickle]

ICarly: Tickle Headcanons 🎥📺

I kid you not this song goes so hard

ok this feels SLIGHTLY offensive to write for some reason, but I enjoyed it a bunch, request for @tickle-beans

Carly Shay 🌐

As a ler: Her years of living together with Spencer have made her a professional ler. She's mastered quite a few techniques, including tummy-squeezes and dreaded claws of anticipation.. Gangs up on Freddie with Sam, because obviously! Also always gets her chances to get revenge on Spencer, who always teases her for being ticklish when really he's where she got that gene. Once collaborated with Socko to create tickle socks for the show. Most def switch vibes up the wazoo, and is the type to laugh while tickling her ler. Will come up with tickle activities for the webshow (because she HAS)

As a lee: Carly's very obviously and canonically got a ticklish tummy, and it's even canon that Spencer tickles her to cheer her up/annoy her most of the time. They ABSOLUTELY tk fight literally because it's so canonically implied and sibling dynamics have some of the best tickle potential because like??? HELLO. Sam and Freddie also tickle her frequently. A more general headcanon I have is that Carly gang sans Spencer also tickle each other a ton. Her worst spots besides her tummy are her sides and armpits.

Sam Puckett 🧦

As a ler:

Feral as a ler. Will literally just jump at wherever she can tickle and tickle it good. Likes to tease- but it sounds more like threatening. She definitely gets more injured than the lee when she's tickling someone (Freddie and Carly, mainly) and likes to chase lees with wiggling fingers. Knows all of Freddie and Carly's spots, even has charts of them because you know, feral. Whenever a tickle fight starts between the gang, the word "fight" sends a feral response into her brain and she becomes evil asf like she already is. Let's face it, she probably has some strange tk tool, think butter sock. When she goes on to live with Cat, she's the main ler for her, same goes for Carly. Doesn't help that she's stubborn and ticklish and iCarly probably has had a ton of tickle episodes though. Always takes advantage of Freddie's ticklishness because he's Freddie. The butt of the joke, duh

As a lee-

Kicker. Scrapper. Squealer. All of the -ers. Will curse people's firstborns. Spencer is the only one who can manage to hold her down- has the advantage of size. Freddie always tries to tickle her but she turns the tables immediately. Ticklish literally everywhere, only Carly is able to tickle her successfully even IF she does bite- or probably worse. Definetly worse. According to the DGITVSCU (Dan Get In The Van Schneider Cinematic Universe) Sam literally is banned in 6 US states. I'm scared of her, always have been.

Freddie Benson 📽️ As a lee: Always been tickled, like his whole life. Ticklish everywhere, most often tickled by his senile mother AND to make it worse, his friends. Most frequent ler is Sam, who's the most evil ler out of the gang. Honestly, scratch the "his friends" part. Mostly Sam. Still, though, singled out as the lee of the gang. Also bro wears like, the same 5 polo shirts. It was just funny so I pointed it out. Has a loud, wheezy and snorty laugh, which Carly, Sam and Gibby (and potential other guest stars) think is hilarious- well except the main 2 girls, they secretly find it adorable of the love triangle thing they got going for them.

As a ler: This man is out for blood and revenge. Favorite spots to tickle are the sides, ribs and armpits, and always revenge-tickles to no avail, except when he does. He would engage in great switch-banter with any of the girls, though.

Spencer Shay 🎨

As a lee: Reluctant, but doesn't hate it. Often tickled as a bribe by Carly and/or the iCarly crew (most frequently as a means to convince him to do Baby Spencer) Worst spot is his tummy much like his similarly creative sister. Will get tickled as a means of performance art or anything similar. I want this guy as a brother so bad. His laugh is frantic, loud and he's a thrasher but tries not to hurt his ler. Will shut his eyes and whatnot and try to retaliate using his strength advantages.

As a ler: Corny, cheesy, fatherly. Incredibly dorky, will make dad-jokes and play tickle games, as well as pretend to sculpt his lee (typically Carly) like clay. Has lots of fun as a ler, it's all in part to his duty as the fun, paternal figure to be good at tickling. Her favorite spot to tickle is the tummy (it's Carly's worst spot, sooo) and reluctantly takes part in the iCarly.com tickling escapades. Has tickle techniques memorized and whatnot, and enjoys making his lee immobile by pinning them.

[gaysforbyler]

get him back! character references masterdoc!!

Will outfits:

1-3: self explanatory, he’s emo 🖤 For 1, if the pants were black, that’s literally him (and that IS his room. That’s what his closet looks like)

4: just the bottom half, BUT THATS HIM. His boots and his pants and almost his belt.

5&6 are his transition from black to color. Just a flannel <3 AND THE STAR WARS SHIRT ON 6??? HIM.

7-9 are his Color (the last shirt saying “boycrazy” is insane)

Will hair:

- LEO BABYYYY (it’s actually a lot longer than that, but I couldn’t NOT include him)

- TROY!! He’s definitely the most accurate. The rest of the party makes fun of him for it bc hsm1 just came out

- Rodrick my son. That’s actually Will on the right, eyeliner and everything.

- and some random dudes, idk

Mike outfits:

So this issue is that Mike just happens to like black, so his style is pretty similar to early Will’s. In summary: hoodies. Hoodies beneath cute little jackets (and his leather jacket i love so much)

4: it’s like his canon jacket in that one leak <3

6: this is so him, what the hell?

10: I LOVE HIS SWEATERS, yes he still wears them in this

Mike hair:

Just… Conan.

The boy EVER, I love him so much

M*tt

This is who he is. There’s no other picture needed, just this.

I actually had no image in mind this entire for him, but I saw this picture and was like 🫢👉

(Okay, not entirely. I would consider his hair a bit darker, and maybe an inch or two longer, but other than that…)

Rich boy polo, obnoxious sunglasses, arrogant walk (I’m so sorry to the dude in the picture) very Straight Boy. Homophobic gay man.

Max:

1: she steals Will’s clothes a lot

6&7: hair. She has THOSE bangs and she ties it up like 6 sometimes

8: that’s Will and Max if Will shaved his head

El:

1-5: THE 2000s clothes. Very disney vibes

6-8: hair. She likes to do those funky little hair styles that take 5 years to do. And butterfly clips. VERY Lizzie McGuire coded

9: El, Will, Max, 2005– Colorized.

Lucas:

I fee like I made his clothes inconsistent but WHATEVER.

Yes, 4 is the same as Mike’s, because they have a very similar style (bestie things)

7-9: hair. ADNRE MY BOY I love him

Dustin:

1-6: polos and button downs bc he’s a nerd who would carry around a calculator in his pocket

7-8: hair. Self explanatory. The dude on the left is creeping me out.

If for some reason you needed it, here’s the boards https://pin.it/2PEltDRN7

I’ll definitely be adding to this later on. But I’m tired and I’ve been doing this instead of editing ch 24 for the past three hours. So bye!

[aarons-corner]

“He had five minutes of screen time and two lines you can’t have that many head canons of hi-” BE QUIET AND LISTEN.

A/N: But first listen to the TW!!: Mentions of self harm and stories of self harm, mentions masochism and sadism and stories of it, trauma, weapons

Oh how I just love writing angsty and traumatizing head canons about fictional characters.

And then all of a sudden I rant abt how much of a ✨T W I N K✨he is and how pretty he is

These are mostly SFW besides the trigger warnings above. If you have requests for characters just send me a message through my ask box and I’ll get to you asap, requests are always open atm :) (if a request makes me uncomfy, I will either not respond or if it’s rlly bad I’ll ask you to read my boundaries on my A03 which you should read regardless if ur requesting a fic for anyone )

Jimmy! Who owns 79 sweaters. 9 are turtlenecks, 5 are his dad’s, 2 are his mom’s, and the rest are regular sweaters that have cool designs

Jimmy! Who has the best fashion sense out of all his friends

Jimmy! Who is the richest and Sid hates him and his family for it

Jimmy! Who was just a cute little nerd for the first 14 years of his life. With his cute little glasses (yes they were round), cute sweaters, cute polo shirt, and cute black jeans (and yes the sweater and polo shirt were tucked into the jeans). He reads about space and shit and always readjusts his glasses because they’re too big for his cute little face to this day.

Jimmy! Who has a rock collection, or specifically a crystal collection. He calls them ‘pretty rocks’ (shut up ur pretty)

Jimmy! Who wants a witch and/or gothic girlfriend/boyfriend and wants to wear their pretty gothic jewelry and nazar like a symbol he’s theirs (and for the nazar, protection) or be given anti-anxiety spells and essential oils and stuff

Jimmy! Who has always been bisexual and had a crush on Dutch unknowingly in elementary school, they laugh about it now

Jimmy! Who’s a Switch. I mean come on just look at the pretty boy

Jimmy! Who gets absolutely emotional when drunk and/or high (he does both. At once and separately) and starts crying about climate change and how he can’t eat the soap in that one shop in the strip mall

Jimmy! Who owns many pets and houseplants and takes very good care of them all. He owns a snake named Athena, two parakeets named Jordan and Snowball, and a kitten named Jinx

Jimmy! Who is obsessed with Greek mythology

Jimmy! Who literally never knows what’s happening. He’ll forget what class he’s in, what his plans are for the day, etc

Jimmy! Who despite the above, is a straight A student and his parents have very high expectations of him

Jimmy! Who is a sadist and a masochist because of past trauma. His parents had high expectations, but were also neglectful which caused him to be exposed to things he shouldn’t have been exposed to at an early age (ex: gore, p⭐️rnography, substances, etc)

Jimmy! Who despite this, would never act this way towards his partner or friends or force his partner into it. He’s the biggest gentleman in the world and doesn’t let his trauma define who he is as a person and the way he treats others.

Jimmy! Who once got drunk and kissed Tommy. They kissed again sober just to see if there were feelings or not, there were no feelings and they never mentioned it again

Jimmy! Who catches feelings way too easily. He definitely fawned over Johnny at the nerd point in his life but ignored it because he ALSO has a fear of rejection

Jimmy! Who has the softest hair in the world

Jimmy! Who struggled with SH for the longest time. Neglectful but overbearing parents who only care about grades, being bullied, karate being stressful, any negative feeling, led to him harming himself in one way or another. His friends only found out after hearing some random guys shit talking Jimmy and calling him every slur under the sun. Later Dutch found Jimmy sobbing in a bathroom stall and blood stained jeans on the thigh area. Dutch got him new pants, took the blade, and made him promise to never do it again.

Jimmy! Who didn’t listen and has a small box of sharp objects, like broken glass, needles (for sewing and surgical), knives of all sorts, blades from pencil sharpeners, and even just overly sharp pencils. No one ever found the box and he still has it (I’m gonna confiscate it)

Jimmy! Who’s Cobra Kai jacket was a size too big when he first got it and it looked so fucking cute oversized

Jimmy! Who although wants to date a goth boy or girl, goths scare him and he gets nervous talking to them because he thinks they’re too cool for him or they’ll be mean to him :(

Jimmy! Who along with Johnny, did the skeleton makeup for everyone and did absolutely amazing

Jimmy! Who is the second shortest in the group (shortest is Dutch) and is constantly leaned on and used as an arm rest by Bobby and Tommy

Jimmy! Whose hair is so god damn fluffy. His partner plays with it 24/7

Jimmy! Who adores forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek (as in face this is the SFW version lmao)

Jimmy! Who wishes he looked more like Daniel sometimes (don’t bby ur perfect)

Jimmy! Who is husband male wife material

Should I do a Part 2??

[speckostardust]

Blueberry, Looking Out Of The Closet

A 5 + 1 fic about coming out.

The first chapter is out on Ao3 now! Check it out! It takes place in a modified post-pacifist Underswap!

The next chapter is set to be released in either March or April.

Read it on Ao3

Chapter 1: Nights of Giftmas

The heater is on, blowing warm air into the room. Blue’s room is left dark, save for the small light under their blanket, coming from their laptop’s LEDs at the lowest setting. 

Blue is opening their favorite game, AUniversity. The intro begins, a short cinematic, and Blue doesn’t skip it. Why would they ever? They love it.

The camera pans above water, showing a large school overlooking a lake. It zooms into a courtyard, with two large goat-like monsters passing out free samples of some kind of food on a stick. One is wearing a tropical-patterned with huge curved horns and long blond hair, and the other wears a purple sundress and sunhat with a purple ribbon, with small horns poking out from them. Boxes slide in from off-screen to under their face as the camera zooms in on the two smiling, naming them as Kingsly and Quinn. Blue knows them as the nice ones. They do a bunch of charity work together. Quinn likes to help out her fellow students and tutor them for free, and Kingsly likes to cook meals for those in need.

The camera zooms off to another part of the campus, right outside of a dorm room. Inside, two humans argue: One has very tanned and dark skin, wearing a blue shirt, and the other is pale, with a slight blush, wearing a green hoodie. The boxes slide in as the one in green throws a book at the other, naming them as Sirik and Harac. The troublemakers. Both love to prank pretty much everyone.

The camera goes through the room and out the door, into the hallway, where two monsters are talking: a cheery light blue rabbit wearing a soft yellow polo and deep red pants, and a brown cat wearing a pink sweater and leather jacket, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The boxes name them as Henry and Harper. The top student and the bad kid. Henry is almost always studying, and trying to drag Harper into his studies. Harper constantly tries to skip class, but Henry literally drags him to class.

The camera runs through the halls and into a classroom, with a teacher teaching the class. The teacher is an enthusiastic, tall skeleton, and a box slides in to name him Roman. The best teacher in the school. He teaches history and is super passionate about it. He wants all his students to feel safe in his classroom.

The camera exits through another door in the classroom and rushes down another hall, then into another doorway leading to a library. At a table sits two monsters: a tall, angry-looking fish lady with red hair, with her head in her hands over a book, and a much smaller yellow lizard patting the other’s back. The boxes slide in to name the two as Nerco and Phonse. Nerco came to the school on a sports scholarship, and really struggles with her studies, and Phonse tutors and helps Nerco as much as she can.

The camera goes past the two and into a dark corner of the library, where a skeleton with a green scarf and black jacket sits on a bean bag, crocheting a small blue blanket. The box slides in to name him Kaushan. Blue’s favorite character. He's the librarian, and often sleeps in the corner of the library to avoid doing his work. He’s not the best at communicating, which is why Blue relates to him so much.

The camera then moves to a book on a nearby table, where it opens to a painting of the school itself. In the sky above it, the title fades in, and under it the main menu.

Blue smiles as they start the game itself. Their avatar climbs out of bed in their dorm room, a little chibi skeleton. It’s dressed in a white sweater, black pants, and a light blue scarf, and its eyes are bright stars. They spent a while trying to get it as accurate as possible. They move their character out the door and to the library in a practiced motion.

In the dark corner of the library, Kaushan sits on his beanbag, just like in the intro, but in a chibi art style. With the game prompting them to, they sit down on a beanbag next to him. 

A text box slides in from the bottom of the screen, as a much more detailed image of Kaushan slides in from the right, and a more detailed version of Blue slides in from the left.

“Oh, hi, Blue.” The text box says. Kaushan’s name appears under him over the text box. “How was your winter vacation?” 

Oh, that’s right! Giftmas had just passed. They had spent the entire day with their brother and a ton of friends! They had planned to come out as non-binary to everyone that morning when they were opening gifts, by giving their brother a gift that had confetti and stuff in it, but they got too nervous, and…

Well, the gift is still sitting under their bed.

They look at their options to respond. 

“> I didn’t really do anything exciting. > I went on vacation to a cooler place. > I spent it with my family.”

They select the last option. “I spent it at home with my family.” They whisper the words on the screen out loud, to better feel immersed in the game. 

“> It was great! > It was nice, but something happened. > It wasn’t the best.”

“It was nice, but something happened,” Blue whispers.

“Oh no, what happened?” the digital skeleton asked. 

“> I wasn’t able to tell them something. > It just wasn’t too great. > There was an incident.”

“I… wasn’t able to tell them something,” they whisper, reciting the words on the screen, before deviating from them. “I really wanted to tell them all, especially Paps, that I’m non-binary, but I just wasn’t able to do it.”

They wonder why the game had such an accurate answer for what they wanted to tell Kaushan. Sure, they had saved the game right after the winter midyears, but these text prompts were way too close to reality.

“Oh, I see.” Kaushan’s sprite changes to a smiling pose. “I hope that, even if it’s far in the future, you’re able to say what you want to say.”

“Thank you, Kaushan,” Blue whispers, going off of the game’s text once again. “I wish I could tell them. I want to tell them so bad! But even if I plan everything, down to each and every reaction, I just can’t do it!”

A knock comes from the door of Blue’s room, causing them to jump a little. 

“Hey, bro?” Papyrus’ voice calls. Blue cringes slightly at their brother misgendering them, even though they haven’t come out to him yet. “We’re having ice cream downstairs. You want some?”

Quickly, they save the game and shut their computer, then pop their head out of the bottom of their blanket to look at their brother. Still, they speak in a whispered voice. “Do I have to go downstairs?”

Papyrus chuckles. “I thought your social battery was empty. Brought some up for you. Mind if I sit in here? You don't gotta talk if you don't wanna.”

Blue ponders for a moment, a speculating look crossing their face. After a moment, they nod, crawl out of the bottom of their bed awkwardly, and stand up to face their brother. Papyrus offers a bowl of ice cream and Blue takes it. Together, the two sit on Blue's bed.

The two eat their ice cream silently, the only sounds in the room coming from the talking downstairs and the slight clinking of their spoons against the porcelain bowls. 

“Hey, Paps?” Blue starts, still whispering. “I uh, um…”

“What’s up, Sans?” Papyrus responds.

There it is again. That name that they are so deeply connected to. The name that they were given when they were born, the name that’s on all their papers, and the name that they grew up with. 

But still, even through all that, the name that they have grown away from and feel disgusted by. Small tears start to well up in Blue’s eye sockets.

“Hey, hey, bro, it’s okay, take your time.” Papyrus desperately attempts to comfort his sibling. He takes Blue into an embrace, where Blue is attempting to stop their tears.

Slowly, Blue’s sobbing stops, but the tears don’t stop flowing from their eye sockets. “I uh… I’m sorry.” Their words are barely even a whisper yet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for not being able to tell you is what Blue wants to say, but the words never properly come out.

“Don’t say you’re sorry. What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I…” They gulp, swallowing nothing but nerves. “I… I want to be called Blue.”

“I… could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you.” Papyrus leans a little closer to his closeted sibling.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even tried.” Blue panics to say something else, change the topic, c’mon, they can do something. “T-the ice cream’s good!” They say a little too loud, flinching at the volume of their own voice.

Papyrus looks at them, a small frown crossing his face. “Yeah, it is.” 

Silence takes over between the two again, the warm air from the heater drying the last of Blue’s tears. When they’ve finished their ice cream, Papyrus takes the bowl from them and goes to leave the room.

“You know, I really care about you,” Papyrus says. “If you ever want to talk about anything, you can talk to me.” He pauses with a sigh. “We could get you a therapist, if you want.”

Blue stays silent, but shakes their head slightly.

“Just… think about it, ‘kay?” Papyrus starts to pull the door closed. “G’night, bro.”

The door clicks shut, and Blue collapses onto their pillow, letting the blanket fall on top of them, and moving their laptop to their bedside table. All they want to do is tell their brother. They could’ve done it right then and there. It’s all they want to do…

[eloiselikescheese]

THINGS THAT WERE IN THE RWRB BOOK THAT DIDN’T MAKE THE MOVIE AND I’M MAD ABOUT IT (don’t get me wrong the movie was a masterpiece and I have literally watched it eight times but I’m still mad)

JUNE

JUNE

JUNE

JUNE

J

U

N

E

June and Alex going through magazines together

Alex and Nora pretending to be dating for the tabloids

CASHHHHHHHHHH

“Alex has seen her stab someone in the kneecap with a very similar embroidery needle” page 9, about Amy 

ALEX CARESSING HENRY’S PICTURE IN JUNE’S MAGAZINE WHEN HE WAS A KID OMGGGGGGGGGGGG I PHYSICALLY CANNOT 

Henry being “infuriatingly” tall compared to Alex 

Literally the entire first chapter minus the cake falling. They even changed the set up and dialogue for how it fell!

Chapter 2:

“Alexander,” Ellen says, her tone eerily calm. “Shut up.”

“You’re a dumbass. Love you.” -Ellen

ALEX’S LISTS OH MY GOD I MISS HIS LISTS

Alex bi panicking for Shaan 

Henry riding in from polo practice on his horse looking perfect, and Alex saying “I am going to throw up on you.” (Page 36)

Alex’s parents being divorced, it made Ellen even more powerful. 

The entire cornettos scene: Alex seeing Henry in a plain t-shirt, the post Alex made, Henry commenting on Alex’s glasses 

That mysterious part where Shaan gives Henry a pill, it intrigued both me and Alex. (Pg 41)

Actually hearing Henry’s interaction with the girl in the hospital. He’s so sweet. (Pg 45)

“You know,” he says into Henry’s hair, “we have got to stop ending up like this.” -When they fall on each other in the hospital closet. (Pg 46)

ALEX ELBOWED HENRY THEN HE PINNED ALEX DOWN WITH HIS THIGH IN THE HOSPITAL CLOSET. THAT WAS NOWHERE IN THE MOVIE I DESERVE THAT FRIGGIN PART. (Pg 47-48)

Alex putting his number in henry’s phone. So good.

Chapter 3

RAFAEL LUNA. RAFAEL LUNA. R A F A E L  L U N A. HE WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN MIGUEL RAMOS. HIS PLOT TWIST IS SO MUCH BETTER.

LEO!!!! HE’S SO SWEET!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!

Ellen doing a wiping motion in front of her face, turning president face off and mom face on (pg 63)

The conversation where Henry texts “one does not foster a lifelong love of Star Wars without knowing an “empire” isn’t a good thing.�� (Pg 72)

“tell shaan I say hi and I miss that sweet sweet ass xoxoxo” “I will not.” (Pg 74) 

Chapter 4

The extended turkey scene. literally the entire thing. So funny. SO MANY good lines. (Pg 76-83)

Ellen and Oscar’s divorce also made Alex a deeper character in a way.

Alex’s entire HOUR LONG phone call with Henry after his parents fight on Christmas Eve

June’s resistance to Ellen wanting her on the campaign (little details like this made the story so real.)

“Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Years Eve Party.” (Pg 95)

Pez actually asked June out, not Nora. You can’t just replace her like that!

The fact that Alex kissed NORA on new years. It was more personal.

Alex and Henry leaning against the tree together before they kiss (Pg 106)

Chapter 5

Alex tripping and scraping his knee on a run with June because he can’t stop thinking about Henry (Pg 113)

Alex having an actual job on the campaign 

Henry going out with a girl, it built more tension 

Amy being gay

Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam

Chapter 6

Alex being into henry’s accent just from the word “Oh.” (Pg 129)

“You’re not going kill him, are you?” “Probably not.” (Pg 131)

HENRY’S TIE IN THIS SCENE OH MY GOD I LOVED THAT ALEX GRABBED HIS TIE HE WAS WEARING A FRIGGIN BOWTIE IN THE MOVIE I’VE BEEN ROBBED.

“Stop thinking.” “Yes. Gladly.” (Pg 132)

Alex grabbing henry’s tie and whispering the “I’m going to do some very bad things to you” line. I’m serious that tie was important to me.

“Yes, you preening are, I’ve wanted you so long I won’t have you tease me for another fucking second.” (137)

“Alex rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night.” Henry looks back up at him, his mouth open and incredulous, and he throws his head back and laughs, and it’s only him, the nerdy, neurotic, sweet, insomniac rich guy who constantly sends Alex photos of his dog, and something slots into place. He leans down and kisses him fiercely, and then he’s grinning and gone.” (145-146) THEY EVEN ADDED A PAUSE WHERE HE WOULD HAVE SAID IT LIKE COME ON

Alex absolutely dying over the way Henry looks in polo gear

Seeing the actual emails they sent to each other, they left out a lot of the emails and the way they addressed each other was SO GOOD.

Chapter 7

“You’re a mad, spiteful, unmitigated demon, and I’m gong to kiss you until you forget how to talk.” -Henry texting Alex (158)

“Listen,” Henry is saying, heated, over the phone on a Thursday night. “I don’t give a damn what Joanne has to say, Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long, and I don’t want to hear a word against it.” - Literally Iconic. *chefs kiss* (160)

Zahra telling Alex she’d chop off her own tit before letting him do something stupid to let Ellen lose reelection. (162)

Catherine, the badass way she married an actor even though the queen forbid it, because she loved him. 

WASPy Hunter, that’s literally the only way Casey McQuinston refers to him and I love it.

“You have so much in you, it’s almost impossible to match it. But he’s your match, dumbass.” June (178)

The entire scene of Alex coming out to June 

The entire phone call where Pez answers Henry’s phone and teases them (183-185)

The way Pez made MATCHING. KIMONOS. For The Super Six when they did karaoke in LA.

Bea being a bigger and cooler character 

Alex convincing Henry to do karaoke by… lets just say being sexy.

The scene after karaoke in the hotel, Alex wishing he could get up with Henry every morning, Cash bringing them hangover coffee

Chapter 8

“If only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when American boys with chin dimples are mean to him.” An email, from Henry to Alex. (203)

Alex being so extremely passionate about flipping Texas with the Texas binder and everything

Phillip being an absolute prick at Wimbledon, then Henry escaping the match to have sex with Alex in a storage closet, the last thing they “should” be doing. (216-218)

The extended piano scene where Alex is most definitely falling in love but is in DENIAL

I said it once but I need to repeat, RAFAEL LUNA’S BETRAYAL/PLOT TWIST

Henry just showing up for Alex because of Rafael. 

“Henry kisses his mouth over and over again and says quietly, “You are good.” (230) OH MY GOD HOW DARE YOU TAKE THAT FROM ME

Henry making a joke about being closeted when he hides in the closet from Zahra, also the fact that he “comes literally tumbling out of the closet.” 

“Oh my god, I thought you were getting into international relations or something.” “I mean technically-“ “If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna spend tonight in jail.” (232)

Chapter 9

Ellen basically saying “oh, that’s all?” At his bisexuality, THEN being shocked at the bomb drop of Henry.

ELLEN’S POWERPOINT ELLEN’S POWERPOINT ELLEN’S POWER POINT E L L E N ‘ S  P O W E R P O I N T. IT WAS AMAZING, HILARIOUS, HONEST, AND STILL SUPPORTIVE OF HER BISEXUAL SON. 

History, huh? Being in an email and becoming the big quote that people used in support of the relationship later.

The way they ended emails with gay/romantic quotes from letters in history

Henry said “Hi, Love.” Into a hug with Alex then they held hands in the jeep on the way to the lake cabin and if that isn’t love WHAT. IS. (249- 250)

Henry learning how to eat ribs (256)

Henry ending his goodbye note with “Thank you for everything. X” was 1. Heartbreaking. 2. Extremely romantic and makes you go “ooooohhhh he’s no just leaving for family stuff.” (265)

Chapter 10

After Henry left the lake cabin, Alex smashed a mug and his phone because he was so upset and restless (267)

Alex screaming at henry’s window making a huge scene until he was let in to the palace

“My birthright is a country, not happiness.” (272)

“What do you want?” “I want you—“ “then fucking have me.”

The fact that their argument descended straight into making out because Henry loves him and it kinda sucks but he still does and he’s crying as they kiss

The morning after Alex storms the castle, Henry and Alex are laughing snd kissing and Henry accidentally presses play on Ellen’s voicemail, which is “Diaz, you insane, hopeless romantic little shit, It had better be forever. Be safe.”

V&A, Alex “taking a picture of a national gay landmark, and also a statue.”

They clink together under his shirt, two homes side by side. (I admit the narration would be hard to do in a movie but readers would just KNOW and the camera could just focus on his necklace.)

Chapter 11

“You had the absolute audacity to love me back.” Henry in an email (300)

AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WHALES     !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 12

Alex comforting Henry in the car because he’s getting a panic attack due to the pressure of lying (311-312)

“It would be a lie, because it wouldn’t be him.” Alex’s talking about getting a wife, arguing w/ Rafael Luna (317)

“Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams… “Fuck!” He says a third time, spiking the newspaper at the floor. That one was his.” (324) AJSDHFLAGAHLKFAJG 

Chapter 13

Alex thinking he’s getting some sort of lecture or game plan from Ellen after the email leak only to have her ask if he’s okay like the good mom she is. (326)

Alex’s family all standing there for him after the leak, then Alex crying and collapsing to the floor in their arms. (331-332)

When Zahra gets Henry on the phone, Henry asks how Alex is doing But Alex immediately asks how Henry is instead because it is harder for him. Also, Phillip broke a vase that belonged to Anne Boleyn??? Amazing detail.

“I love him on purpose.” (344)

“I’ve been gay as a maypole since the day I came out of mum, Philip.” (353) it was better and funnier in this fight than their first night together.

Catherine sticking up for Henry so strongly against the queen 

Bea spilling tea on Phillip to shut him up (and just generally keeping him away from Henry to be protective.) (357)

Chapter 14

June wearing a “History, huh? Shirt and Alex tackling her into the tightest hug that they fall into a shrub (360-361)

Richards’ campaign being the cause of the email leak and Nora working her ass off to prove it 

THE FACT THAT ALEX MEMORIZED LUNA’S FIVE GUYS ORDER, AND IT WAS A SECRET. CODE. IN THE EMAILS. THATS SO FRIGGIN COOL ARE YOU KIDDING ME

“You are,” he says, “the absolute worst idea I’ve ever had.” (372)

I just need to repeat, R.A.F.A.E.L. L.U.N.A. A BADASS KING. I. WAS. ROBBED.

Chapter 15

Phillip starting to not be a prick

There is an entire page written, just describing the moment that Ellen officially got reelected. Everyone in different little bits of joy, and I think that could have been beautiful. (413)

HENRY BOUGHT A BROWNSTONE IN BROOKLYN FOR THEM YOU GUYS. PRETTY IMPORTANT DETAIL.

This list is so long but I could have made it so much longer I’m not even kidding. I cut it down to make it readable, and there is still so much in the book that just doesn’t translate to movies, but makes the story so much richer and amazing. Books are honestly ALWAYS better than the movie, but again, the list could be longer. This book is so beautiful.

Things that I actually liked that changed in the movie

“You act like the sun shines out of his ass, and you have a vitamin D deficiency.” (Instead of “and you make it convincing) 

“You’re wearing lifts, I know that too, sweetheart.” 

Alex saying “You’re late” smirking and closing the door, only to have henry walk right in and start to make out with him

“And I thought Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz was a mouthful.” “He is.” 

“I want you chewing on a goddamn crumpet by sunset… *Bows* Your Royal Highness.” 

“I wanna see your face COVERED in barbecue sauce, and then, I wanna lick it off.” 

That part where Henry asks why they have to maintain a traditional royal image and the king says “beca-beca-becau-Because!” Rambles about the country, then says “a prince who is… ✨HOMOSESGXSGSUAL.✨” but in the most funny disgusted voice

[moonglittering]

✨ grand theft auto 5 verse: *'hold on' by holy ghost! blares in the background.*

- ex-idol that used to be in a multicultural boy group based in seoul, south korea called galxsee. eleven member group based on the solar system. he thought that was too many members and he wasn’t wrong. main dancer, subvocalist position, rapped a lil bit. he was one of the more charismatic members, so he was a fan favorite.

- he wasn’t a trainee for long and he did debut! successful, too. one debut, two comebacks later, and his leader, gunwoo, got busted because he was doing cocaine off of a volume of dragonball z manga backstage at a music show. everyone else was appalled but virote was just like, ‘ don’t kick him out. have you seen our sleep schedules? i’ve been thinking of freebasing speed and caffeine tablets by the dozen. ’

- decided that selling the ~boyfriend fantasy to a bunch of fangirls when he’s both gay and weirded out by fans in general wasn’t for him. not like the group was gonna get anymore leg in the industry. coke king gunwoo park’s scandal made sure of that.

- in the end, vi didn’t care. between the fans and the sasaengs and the diets and the lack of freedom and needing to be a robot for the sake of public consumption selling a load of bullshit that only idiots fell for, he knew this shit wasn’t cut out for him and he went back to america. to vinewood. he’s more popular in the art scene than he is as an actual celeb, but he’s choreographed for a lot of famous folks, guest spotted on fame or shame, and has appeared on television a few times in super small roles.

- vinewood isn’t great. it isn’t even good!! but he can cry in his car in public and drink a smoothie and no one will bother him. he has a pretty stellar rep in vinewood for his talent. he’s an all-arounder and definitely more talented than most people in the biz. whether it be acting or modeling or dancing or just existing.

- lives in a beautiful penthouse on vespucci. the building is guarded, considering there’ve been a few incidents that have him spooked. it’s not insane like it used to be when he was in a group, but still.

- hates lazlow and wants him floating lifelessly down a river. will opt for physically assaulting him by swinging a baseball bat at him, one day. one day. just watch.

- if he’s not at the beach, he’s probably enjoying himself in little seoul.

- doesn’t like steve haines. not like he knows all the shit steve haines has gotten into, he just doesn’t like him. hates his face. hates his voice. hates his fucking polo shirts. hates everything about him.

- literally stands on his balcony and smokes a fat ass spliff when he hears steve haines is dead.

- he’s gonna choke devin weston one day so @OPPORTUNING​ im sorry but get ready for that… or not… even if he doesn’t do it physically he is doing it in his fantasies!!!

[weatherman667]

*deep breath*

Capitalism is about COMPETITION. The main reasons that companies keep cutting quality:

Consumers have been trained to be too price conscious, to the exclusion of all other criteria.

Consumers allow it. Consumers are the ones making the final purchasing decision.

We are rich enough to allow this level of frivolity. During the dust bowl, Capitalism caused flour companies to put flower prints on their bags, because some girls were wearing them as dresses. So, the comment about EVEN the rich are buying poor-quality things is paradoxical, (opposite to the intended / expected effect), because THEY CAN AFFORD IT. TL;DR: We are rich enough to be frivolous, and the rich are rich enough to be even more frivolous.

Regulation: The greater the rules that companies have to abide by, the greater the benefit to major corporations. So, all of the call to making it more complicated to make phones ensures that only the biggest competitions can enter the market.

Removal of the Glass-Steagall Act, and other anti-competitive laws. The Glass-Steagall Act forced deposit banking to be legally distinct from investment banking. We also replaced the President of the Company with the CEO. The President of a company used to have a legal duty to the longterm viability of the company. Now they don't, so what they did was promote the CFO. The CEO only has to worry about short-term gains, and can be sued for thinking long-term.

Offshoring, both in general, and specifically strategic resource mining. Oil is the most well known, but if we're talking about cellphones, then Rare Earth Elements is more relevant. Until a few years ago, 99% of the world's Rare Earth Element market was coming from China. China then decided to cease exportation of their Rare Earth Elements, overnight, catastrophically crippling chip production anywhere but China.

Most of the shelves at major grocery stores are rented. If you go to buy toothpaste, 95% of the aisle is one or two companies. The remaining 5% seems to be above market in price, but, if you reduce everything to the same size facing, you realize they are slightly above average.

The worst part is that people truly, madly, deeply believe this is Capitalism, when it's quite literally the opposite. It's Fascism.

Even worse is that in many industries, more expensive and longer lasting products DO exist. People are either ignorant to them, or simply refuse to pay for them.

I have a jacket that is 25 years old, that hasn't fit me for at least 20, but is still fully intact. I have boots that have lasted 10/15 years. The only reason I stopped wearing my t-shirts is not that they all wore out, but that I switched to polo shirts, (the open collar is SO MUCH better/less suffocating).

At the risk of revealing the slightest bit of location information about me,

I found this in the local store. In fact, I found this is ALL of the large grocery stores. You have to sift through the 100 mass production bars to get to them.

Now, in the store they are around $7.

I know. I'm horrified. Why the fuck am I buying them in stores?

Anyways, this is a few dollars more than mass production soap bars. BUT, because they are made from real ingredients, I'm using half as much soap. So, in the end, with the higher price tag, the soap actually provides more value. I literally showed all of my coworkers at my last job.

This makes me so sad and also I'm trying to remember if any of the Discworld books dealt with late stage capitalism

[karahalloway]

Polo!

Fandom: TRR

Series: None (this is a one-shot and can be read independently of the rest of my fics)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Valeria Beauvaisis de Lavallée

Synopsis: Drake gets roped into playing a charity polo match when one of the other team members doesn't show for the game... What can possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 6,900 (this definitely ran away with me… 😅 I was aiming for 4,000 but here we are!)

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, rough horseplay, BDSM, possible dub con... Drake never has any luck in my fics, does he...? 😅)

Theme song:

A/N1: So, as mentioned before, the idea of this one-shot came out of a conversation with @angelasscribbles, @harleybeaumont and @nestledonthaveone whereby we were discussing Drake's extra-curricular activities that involve tight pants (kind of spinning off of Angela's Homerun fic) and I happened to mention jodpurs... Queue a massive brainwave about Drake getting roped into playing polo (against his will, obviously, because even though I can see him having played this sport, I cannot see him willingly subjecting himself to wearing tight horseriding tights - even if it's part of the uniform 😅) and that is how this fic was born. Hope you have as much fun reading it, as I did writing it (also, I really hope you check out the music video at the end because it did indirectly inspire several aspects of this fic)!

A/N2: In terms of timeline, this fic takes place approx. 1 year after Drake comes back to Cordonia from Texas (i.e. 1 year after the assassination attempt on the royal family that is mentioned in canon), which is approx. 4-5 years before the start of (Un)Common Attraction, so Leo is still the Crown Prince during this period (also, Anton is just a random noble — no covert personality, no secret engagement to Olivia as I’m not following that storyline in my rewrites). This fic will also shed some light on something that Drake mentions in passing in Crazy, because I thought this set-up was the perfect opportunity to explore why he has such an aversion towards aristo women... and riding crops 😏

A/N3: Since polo is probably not a sport that most people are familiar with (I know I wasn't when I decided to write a fic about it!), and rather than take up masses of space in this post, I have prepared a bit of a Polo 101 Guide which will provide you with the basics of the game, as well as some videos about the world of high-society polo if you are interested in exploring further.

A/N4: I admit that the theme song I chose for this fic is a bit left-field, but in the strange land of my HC, if this fic were a movie/TV show, Boom is the song that would be playing during the montage of the polo match. Also I think it’s quite an appropriate underdog song for Drake in this fic 🤟

A/N5: This is my submission for the Choices January Challenge Day 10 (Easy | Hard | Exercise) with a bit of Day 28 (Tight | Loose | Clothes) thrown in.

Polo!

"No. Abso-fuckin'-lutely not."

"But we're short one player!"

I scoff. "It's not my fault Leo's a no-show! Find someone else!"

"There isn't anyone else!" cries Max, grabbing the front of my shirt in desperation. "You're literally our last hope, Drake!"

I slap the Beaumont's hands off me with a derisive snort. "We're at a VIP equestrian event. You seriously tellin' me that none of the aristos out there can ride a horse?"

"None as well as you can..." admits Chris.

I roll my eyes. He had a point.

"...and, as you well know, there is a bit more to it than simple horsemanship."

"Yeah. Like whacking an overpriced softball with a crocket mallet into soccer goal," I mutter. "None of which is hard."

Max pulls a pained face. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that..."

"And that's precisely why you are the obvious choice to sub for Leo," insists Chris, clapping me on the shoulder. "Not only can you put each and every noble out there to shame with your riding skills, but you've also got a killer swing. The other team's not going to know what hit them!"

"A well-aimed polo ball to the back of the head," I mutter under my breath.

Max sucks in a sharp breath. "Does that mean you'll do it?"

Lifting my eyes begrudgingly, I take in the sight in front of me.

Chris and Max are looking at me like a pair of lost kittens — wide-eyed and pleading, begging me to be the answer to their first-world problems.

I heave a resigned breath. "Okay, fine..."

"Yey!" squeals Max, literally throwing himself at me as he bounces up and down like a hyperactive pinball. "Drake's playing with us!"

"But," I say firmly, disentangling myself from the unwarranted — and definitely unwanted — PDA, "this is strictly a one time deal. And this cancels out your last IOU, buddy."

"Understood, mate," grins Chris happily. "Welcome to the team!"

"Yeah, yeah..." I grumble with a roll of my eyes. "Whatever..."

The things I do for Chris...

"There you are!" cries Bertrand, bursting into the bathroom of the clubhouse where Chris and Max have cornered me. "Please tell me you've managed to cajole a hapless substitute into filling in for Leo!"

"Sure have, brother!" enthuses Max with a beaming smile.

"Oh, thank the Almighty Lord!"

"Drake has kindly offered to help us out," confirms Chris, dropping an appreciative arm around my shoulders.

Bertrand's face drains of colour. "Oh, good God..."

I suppress a sigh. This... This is the reason I didn’t want to do this.

The aristo bubble — not to mention the high-society polo one — is small and tightly knit. So, as soon as I ride out onto that field, it’ll take precisely four seconds for everyone to figure out that I am an interloper with no credentials for being here.

And I’m not going to be made to forget it...

But, unfortunately for everyone involved, it’s too late to back out now. The match is starting in less than ten minutes and as much as Bertrand might balk at the idea of a commoner — who’s a Western-riding, half-American to boot — taking the spot of the Crown Prince of Cordonia on the royal team at a high-profile charity event, the fact is that unless they want to start one man short (and suffer the associated penalties and ridicule) there is no other option.

Because Chris is right. Despite the fact that I’ve never set foot in any of the fancy equestrian schools that the aristos like to pay an arm and a leg for the 'privilege' of attending, I can probably out ride the whole ritzy lot of them. And am therefore the team's best chance at not only making the match, but maybe even winning it.

As I have something that the rest of those blue-bloods don’t. And that’s the Walker name. Which — in north-east Texas, at least — is synonymous with Quarter Horses and rodeo.

And even though the ranch has fallen on hard times and is struggling to stay afloat, and I ended up choosing a different calling, horses are still in my blood. Because even before Savs and I could walk, Dad — and Paps, while he'd still been alive, God rest his soul — had been sticking us in the saddle to make sure that we knew not just how to ride, but to ride like a Walker... intuitively, effortlessly, at all times in tune with the horse.

And in polo — much like in rodeo — that’s ultimately the most important thing.

"But... but he's not a club member!" splutters Bert.

"It's just some paperwork," Chris reminds him. "We can square that away during half-time."

"Absolutely not!" comes the objectionable response. "That is most inappropriate and highly irregular! We simply cannot—"

"I can ask the umpire for extra time!" chimes in Max. "To make sure everything is above board. Also, Drake still needs to get kitted out and—"

"But he's never played before!" stresses Bert. "We cannot field a novice player against a professional team! We'll look like utter gits!"

"Drake knows the rules," interjects Chris calmly. "He's attended several training sessions with me and—"

"That is no substitute for in-match experience!" expounds Bert. "I'm sorry, Your Highness. But Mr Walker simply is not qualified to take on the Number 3 position, given that—"

"Five minute warning, gents," advises a steward, popping his head into the bathroom. "If you want to make the match, you need to—"

"Tell the umpire we're on our way," instructs Chris. Fixing his emerald gaze back on the elder Beaumont, he adds, "Bertrand, give Drake your shirt."

Bert's jaw drops. "M-my shirt?"

"As you so eloquently pointed out, Drake is probably not the best placed to take over the Number 3 position. But he can play as a Number 2."

"But... that is my position," objects Bert.

"Which is precisely why he requires your shirt," explains Chris with infinite patience.

Bert's shoulders sag as the penny finally drops. "Ah. Yes. I see." He reluctantly pulls his jersey off to hand it to me.

Turning his gaze on Max, Chris adds, "Show Drake where he can find Leo's kit and then tell the grooms to meet us by the field with the horses in five minutes."

"Yes, sir!" affirms Max, snapping to attention.

Bert wheezes in outrage. "Five minutes! But we—"

"We are going to get Drake registered," Chris declares, grabbing the Beaumont by the front of his undershirt to haul him from the bathroom, "Captain."

Four minutes later, I'm sat astride Leo's dark bay Thoroughbred, fidgeting in the saddle like a convict in the confessional.

"How the hell do y'all wear these things?" I grumble, trying — and failing — to find a position that doesn’t compromise the constitution of my cojones.

"You get used to it," Max assures me unconcernedly, stretching in his seat as his palomino mare flicks her ears questioningly back and forth.

"Yeah..." I mutter, shifting my weight uncomfortably while juggling two sets of reins in one hand, and a four-foot mallet in the other. "At the expense of your balls..."

I passed on the optional whip and spurs back at the changing rooms. They’re unnecessary props, and would've just gotten in the way of my riding, given that I’m already going to have my work cut out for me controlling an unfamiliar, high-strung horse, not to mention the equestrian-equivalent of the elusive Snitch.

"Beaumont?" asks the umpire, riding up to us. "Where is the rest of your team? Most importantly, your captain? Are you aware that—?"

"Apologies for running late!" pants Chris, pulling his horse to a stop next to us, Bert on his heel. "Had to make a last-minute adjustment to the team."

"And did this adjustment result in a complete disregard for the uniform...?" queries the umpire with a raised brow.

"No, sir," replies Bert, quickly pulling on Leo's Number 3 jersey that Max had tossed over to him.

"Hmph..." harrumphs the umpire. "You are lucky you are not receiving a yellow card for tardiness. This is an important match, after all..."

"Yes, understood," nods Bert. "Our sincerest apologies once again, sir."

"This your substitute player, then?" he asks, turning to inspect me critically.

"Unfortunately..." mutters Bert under his breath.

I roll my eyes.

"Is he qualified?"

"Yes, sir," the Beaumont affirms. "All fees duly paid prior to the start of the match."

"And his handicap?"

"Not rated," grits Bert with clenched teeth.

The umpire's eyes widen. "A rookie? Is that who you're substituting for the Number 2 position?"

"Believe me, if it had been up to m—" Bert hisses as Chris' mallet smacks into his ankle. "Ehm... What I meant to say, is that we had no other option. Mr Walker was the only available candidate who was able and willing to sub for the sadly indisposed Crown Prince on such short notice."

"I see..." muses the ref. "Well, you are lucky that this is a charity open match. Otherwise, your team would not qualify."

"Yes, sir," grumbles Bert. "I am exceedingly aware..."

The ref purses his lips. "Alright, then. Let's get to it. We don't want to keep everyone waiting any longer. Good luck, gentlemen."

"Thank you, sir," acknowledges Bert with a nod as the ref turns his horse away, before declaring, "We're doomed..."

"Oh, cheer up, brother!" grins Max with unshakable enthusiasm as he gathers his reins. "It's just a charity match — not the Cartier Queen's Cup. We're here to have fun!"

"That is exactly the attitude that cost us the last tournament!" snaps Bert, kicking his mount into a canter. "These horses don't pay for themselves, you know!"

Max shrugs unconcernedly as he rides after his brother. "There's always next year."

"Ready for your big debut?" asks Chris with a smirk as we follow the Beaumonts onto the field.

I throw him a sidelong glance. "You know this ain't my first rodeo."

Like Chris had pointed out earlier, I’m no stranger to polo. Both the Beaumonts and the Rys are avid players, so I've attended my fair share of matches and training sessions over the years, even hopping into the saddle on a few occasions, if circumstances — or friendly competition — called for it.

But I've never played a formal game. I’m not part of a polo club and don’t have a handicap. Much less ever subjected myself to a pair of nut-strangling jodhpurs...

Until today, that is.

Because I’m not — and never have been — able to say 'no' to Chris.

Even against my better judgement... and the sanctity of my manhood.

"Official debut, then," he concedes with a wink as we arrive in the middle of the field.

"Call it what you will," I mutter as I turn my horse to line myself up next to Chris, feeling the predatory glares of the opposing team burning into me. "Cause this is gonna be a shitshow."

Swinging my mount around, I bring us to a stop, facing the crowd, Bert and Max having already taken their positions for the national anthem.

The Thoroughbred tosses his head, chewing on the bit, his racehorse instincts battling with his polo pony training. I tighten my grip on the reins to keep the antsy gelding still as the familiar symphony of the Cordonian anthem blares out of the speakers... and crowd's eyes bore into me.

I feel my jaw tighten as I force myself to keep my gaze fixed straight ahead, the chords of the chorus swelling around us.

If these bastards think they can intimidate me, they have another thing coming...

The music crests, before cutting out as the recording comes to an end.

"Showtime," winks Chris as he canters his horse past me.

I shake my head as I follow suit, looping my mount around in a wide circle to help him — and me — blow off some steam before the first throw in.

Here we go...

"My, my... Look what the cat dragged onto the field," sneers Neville from across the line as the teams face off over the centre line. "The Palace trying to rig the match in our favour?"

"Do you even know which end of the stick to hold, Walker?" queries Anton with a smirk.

"Sod the stick," scoffs Tariq from next to him. "He's not going to last thirty seconds into the first chukkah before he ends up face-first in the dirt... where he belongs."

"Famous last words, Besnard," I grin, hefting my mallet as the ref raises the ball. "Careful they don't come back and bite you on the ass."

Tariq's eyes narrow...

...but before he has a chance to formulate whatever pathetic comeback he’s going to fling at me, the umpire's tossed the ball between us and all hell breaks loose.

Everyone surges forward, looking for the speck of white. The ball pings off the hoof of Bert's horse, careening towards the other team. Neville's mallet comes down to try and claim custody, but I barrel my horse into his, bumping him off as I lean over and smack the ball down the field to Chris.

Quick as a scalded cat, Chris spurs his pony forward, using his own mallet to drive the ball in front of him towards the goal, the other team on his heels like a pack of rabid wolves. But before they can intercept him, Chris has whacked the ball through the posts, scoring our first point of the match.

Cheers erupt from the stands as Chris turns his horse to canter triumphantly back up the field, a massive grin on his face.

"Great shot, buddy," I say as we line up for the second throw-in.

"Got you to thank for the pass, mate," he replies breathlessly, thanks to the adrenaline kicking in in earnest. "Few more of those and we'll be taking home the trophy!"

"Don't count your blessings yet, Chris," I warn. "We managed to catch them off guard, but they're on the warpath now. They're not gonna make it easy for us."

"Then we'd better return the favour, hadn't we?"

The ball whizzes through the air again. Bert makes a dive for it, but he's not quite quick enough. Tariq leans over his horse's neck to scoot it out of the Beaumont's reach. Max rides in to try and defend, but Tariq's already passed the ball up-field.

Spurring my horse into a gallop, I rush towards the goal posts to shore up our defence — seeing as Max, who’s playing the Number 4 position — won’t make it in time.

Sensing my approach, Tariq passes the ball just before I can hook my mallet around his stick to stop the shot. I whirl the bay around, but even with Bert going hell for leather in an attempt to ride off the other player, and Chris trying to intercept, the ball passes through our goal posts.

"Dammit," I hiss under my breath.

"You didn't seriously think we'd go easy on you, Walker?" smirks Tariq as he turns his horse to ride back to the starting line. "You may have a Prince on your team, but on this field, we are the kings of the sport."

"Then you'd better be prepared to fight for your crown," I growl as I canter back to the middle of the field.

The rest of the first half passes by in a blur of rough riding and several fouls — mostly in our favour. But that isn't quite enough for us to regain our initial lead, and by the time the whistle blows, we're still sitting neck-and-neck with the other team.

"I'm gonna murder that bastard..." I seethe as I jump off my wheezing horse — my third of as many chukkahs. Thoroughbreds may have grit and stamina, but seven minutes of hardcore polo’s guaranteed to wind even the sturdiest mount, so frequent subbing of horses is a must.

"Which one?" asks Chris, unclipping his helmet to wipe the sweat off his face.

"All of them," I grit, launching a well-aimed strike at the fence-post in front of me... and snapping the mallet I’m holding in half.

"Mr Walker!" cries Bert, grabbing my shoulder in horror. "That is most unbecoming behaviour! We are at a high-society charity match! Representing the royal team! You will not—"

"To be fair to him, I'd want to break something too after that shocking umpiring."

My head whips around. "No fuckin' way..."

"Leo!" cries Chris, rushing up to his brother with an ecstatic smile to wrap him in a bear-hug. "You made it!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...!" protests the elder Rys with a pained grimace. "Easy on the enthusiasm! Some of us are still rat-arsed from last night..."

"No surprise there..." I mutter under my breath.

Wouldn't be the first time Leo rolled up to a royal event late and nursing a hangover.

"...and in need of a shower," observes Chris, wrinkling his nose. "Did you sleep in the stables, brother?"

"Pfft! No!" snorts Leo derisively. "Who do you take me for? A complete and utter pleb? I slept in a horse trailer, thank you very much!"

"And that's better...?" queries Chris sceptically.

"It is when it's a top-of-the-line rig owned by a pair of sisters who are both very accomplished riders," comes the eyebrow-waggling response.

"I should expect so!" harrumphs Bert. "If they managed to qualify for this weekend's event then at the very least they would need to be—"

"I'm pretty sure he means, sex," stage whispers Max into his brother's ear.

"Oh." Bert's eyes widen. "Oh!"

"Un-fuckin'-real..." I groan, raking a hand down my face.

"I admit that it may seem hard to believe, Walker," replies Leo, laying a somber hand on my shoulder, "but it is possible to bang two birds with one pecker."

Chris frowns. "It is...?"

"I know what a fuckin' threesome is, Rys!" I snap, knocking his hand away. "What I don't get is why you thought it'd be a good idea to lose yourself in booze and pussy when you should've been in the saddle for the royal match that you were supposed to captain!"

"Mr Walker!" gasps Bert. "That is no way t—"

"Because then we would've missed out on the sight of you in those white jodhpurs, Walker!" grins Leo without skipping a beat. "And what a shame that would have been!"

"Screw you, Rys!" I grit. "I'm not wearing these fuckin' things by choice!"

"All the more reason to appreciate it, then!" he winks, reaching 'round to try and lay on one my ass.

I jerk instinctively out of the way. "Fuck off, you perv!"

"I have to agree," muses Max prosaically. "The tightness of the fit really helps emphasise the shapeliness of your—"

"For the love of Christ!" I explode. "Will y'all just lay off my ass!"

"I was going to say thighs..." objects Max.

"One minute warning, gents," interrupts the ref.

"Thank fuck!" I heave relievedly under my breath.

Never thought I'll actually be jumping at the opportunity to get back on that field. Especially after ending up in the hedge thanks to Tariq barrelling his pony into me, and Neville gut-shotting me with the head of his mallet... both on the pretence of not having seen me coming.

Fuckin' assholes...

Luckily, the umpires had seen through their thinly-veiled BS and had awarded penalties in our team's favour. Not that that lessened how much pain I’m in. But I’m not gonna give those blue-blooded dick-weeds the satisfaction of thinking they can brute force me out of the match...

I'll just have to deal with the inevitable physical fallout later tonight... in the company of a bottle of whiskey and a half-a-dozen ice packs.

Plus, the chance of potential further injury is a small price to pay to get away from the fucked-up turn this conversation has taken...

But as I turn on my heel to head back to my horse, I feel the undeniable force of a flat-handed whiplash reverberate over my rear.

"Hate to see you go, Walker!" hoots Leo. "But love to watch you leave!"

A growl of aggravation hurtles out of me...

...but before I can round on the jerk-face of a Rys, I feel Chris' arm drop around my shoulders.

"He means it all in good fun," he reminds me, steering me away. "No need to get worked up about it."

"Easy for you to say," I grunt abrasively. "Your ass ain't the one in the line of fire."

"True," he concedes. "But then I don't cut quite the same figure as you do in jodhpurs."

A dry scoff escapes me. "Your loss, buddy. I keep telling' you to come to the gym. You could've been on the receiving end of all this attention today."

"And steal your limelight?" laughs Chris, swinging into the saddle. "That wouldn't have been very sporting of me now, would it?”

I roll my eyes as I mount my own horse. "Steal it all you want. You know I prefer it on the sidelines."

"I think the ladies might disagree..." He flicks his head meaningfully towards the stands behind me as he clips his helmet back into place.

Glancing over my shoulder as I grab a replacement mallet, I spot the no less than thirty females with binoculars trained on our position, their accompanying hand-crafted silk fans going at full-tilt.

I turn back to Chris. "They're just eyeing you up, buddy. No doubt as a potential marriage prospect."

"And you," he winks, hefting his mallet onto his shoulder as he rides back out onto the field. "You have managed to capture their attention quite decisively as well."

I shake my head with a scoff as I follow after Chris. "Yeah. Right."

Hell'd have to freeze over first...

In all the years that I've lived at the Palace, I can’t remember a single time when a girl — any girl, much less a social-climbing aristo — has ever given me a time of day when I've been stood next to Chris. And even if I did manage to strike up some semblance of a conversation, the moment they found out that I’m a nobody — with no rank, title, or prospect of a massive inheritance, I was as good as dead to them.

Because who'd want to waste time on a commoner when there was a bone fide prince on offer? Not anyone sane.

Not that I really care.

I have about as much in common with aristo women as shit does with Chanel — fuck all. So, I kept my distance, and they kept theirs, save for the occasional forced interaction mandated by basic decency at public events.

And that's why I know — for a fact — that it isn’t me those high-society females are checking out. Not when both the Rys and the Beaumont brothers are eligible and available.

So, I waste no more time thinking about it, and focus, instead, on the task at hand. Which is paying the other team back for the hell they gave us earlier.

But Neville and Co. clearly have the same idea, because the second half of the match unfolds just as brutally as the first. Neither side is willing to give any quarter as we battle each other like vandals for possession and goals.

I bear the brunt of the attacks, but I’m rewarded with some perverse retribution towards the end of the fifth chukkah when in their haste to intercept me, Tariq and Anton collide into each other, and Tariq gets thrown from the saddle.

Yet against all the odds, our perseverance pays off. In the last thirty seconds, we manage to steal the ball away from the posh pricks in a clever bit of defence curtesy of the Beaumonts, turning the play around to score in their goal instead, and ending the match 10-9 in our favour.

"Whoo!" exults Max, jabbing his mallet into the air as we ride jubilantly off the field. "What a game!"

"Couldn't have done it without Drake," adds Chris, waving to the cheering crowd as we canter past the stands.

"Yeah. Definitely wouldn't've gotten so many penalties," I mutter, wincing from the latest set of bruises... while trying to shrug off the attention I suddenly find myself the focus of again.

"Yes," agrees Bert. "I have to admit I was sceptical, but young Mr Walker here has certainly proven himself to be a capable substitute."

"Bloody capable, I'd say!" interjects Max. "Did you see that goal he scored with that tidy cut shot? Or when he managed to steal the ball from Neville and ride it all the way back up the field with three players chasing him? Or—"

"Yes, yes," accedes Bert with a sigh. "We may make a semi-decent polo player out of Mr Walker yet."

"Semi-decent?" I snort caustically.

"High praise from Bertrand if ever I heard it," winks Chris at me.

"Bravo!" claps Leo as we reach the staging area at end of the field. "The royal team rides to victory!"

"No thanks to you," I point out, throwing my leg over my horse's neck to slide out of the saddle. After the beating I've taken today, I don’t have it in me to try and dismount the traditional way. And even my modified solution causes me to grunt in pain as I hit the ground.

"A great leader knows when to delegate," he responds unabashedly, reaching for my rear again.

I slap his hand away. "Last warning, Rys. You try that shit again and you'll be delegating everything for the next six to eight weeks..."

"You think I don't do that already, Walker?" he grins, completely unfazed by the seriousness of my threat.

"Putain de merde..." I huff under my breath as Leo ambles off to personally congratulate the rest of our team.

It isn’t exactly a secret that the heir to the throne is less than reliable when it comes to fulfilling his royal duties. But he can at least try to be less blasé about it. Especially considering the fact that everyone around him’s left constantly scrambling to cover for his increasingly frequent absences.

Sensing movement behind me, I turn to step in front of the groom that’s appeared next to my horse.

"Je m'en occupe," I declare, taking the reins back decisively.

The lanky teen opens his mouth to protest, but I've already turned away to lead the chestnut mare towards the stable block.

I know it’s common practice for polo players to dump the care of their mounts on the fleet of grooms that accompany each team — partly so they don’t get their expensive white jodhpurs soiled, and partly because they no doubt feel that grunt work’s beneath them. But I'm already covered in everything from sweat to blood to dust, so getting a few extra horse hairs on me isn’t gonna make a lick of difference to how I look... or smell.

Plus, after all the crap that I've had to put up with today, the last thing I want to do was pose for photos, gag on fancy pisswater, and pretend to socialise with flunkies, flakes and fat cats.

That’a Chris' world. Not mine.

Especially since I can have a more intelligent conversation with my horse than with half the tossers out there... and I definitely don’t want to interact any further with the assholes who tried to land me in the ER today. As otherwise things are bound to get ugly off the field as well.

Best that I just remove myself from the spotlight, and let the Beaumonts and the Rys take the credit and the congratulations.

Entering the coolness of the stables, I make my way down the row of stalls, scanning the engraved name plates as I go.

Locating the right stall — based on the name stamped on the mare's bridle — I lead the horse in after me.

Unclipping the bridle, I sling it over my shoulder and let the chestnut drink while I pull the saddle off. Dropping the tack over the stall door, I slip quickly into the familiar motions of my past life as I set about removing the bandages from her legs and unbraiding her tail, the tension in my shoulders starting to unravel as I worked.

As life-or-death as the match may have been, it had been a nice change of pace to be back in the saddle again, working with horses...

Humming Garth Brooks’ Rodeo softly under my breath, I stuff the bandages into my back pocket and pick up the saddle and bridle again to return it to the tack room.

...which makes me think of the young gelding that I left back in Texas.

I heave a breath. Need to figure out what to do with him...

In the midst of my abrupt departure from the ranch last year, and the fraught months that followed trying to steer Chris through the psychological minefield of his PTSD, the last thing I've been thinking about is Lone Star, or my future plans. But now that things aren’t so touch and go – Chris' performance at today's match a testament to how far he's come thanks to his counselling sessions – I have some overdue soul searching of my own to do.

Stowing the mare's tack away, I'm reaching for a grooming kit when I feel the tell-tale pressure of fingertips digging into my backside.

I whip around with a growl. "Touch my ass one more time, Rys, and I swear to God, I'll—"

"Hmm... Testy on and off the field..."

Whatever I’m going to say gets forgotten as I find myself staring into the grey-green eyes of a truly stunning blonde.

"But then I always preferred my males to be hot blooded," she purrs, her blood-red lips curving into a seductive smile as she steps closer.

"Umm... I... Ah..."

She's somehow managed to put a stranglehold on my vocal cords as well...

...probably because she’s wearing nothing except stilettos and a black lace bustier.

"Not very articulate, though..." she muses, flicking her gaze over me... like a cat trying to decide whether she should eat her prey, or toy with it first.

I swallow hard. "I—"

"Not that it matters, I suppose," she declares, slapping the business-end of a riding crop over my mouth, cutting me off. "Because I'm not looking for platitudes..."

A strangled noise escapes me as she grabs me through the front of my pants. Holy fuck!

"...I'm looking for a savage ride."

Before I can choke out some kind of puerile response, she's shoved me backwards...

...and despite about a million warning bells going off in my head, I feel my dick twitch in response.

It could've been her uncompromising voracity, or the thrill of the unexpected. But one thing’s for sure — no girl’s jumped me out of the blue like that before and her take-control attitude’s hot as hell.

Maybe I've been wrong about aristo girls...

Because there is no mistaking that that's what she is — the polished accent, the perfectly styled hair, the pearls at her neck. But apparently that’s all just a carefully constructed façade to hide the low-down-and-dirty nympho that lurks underneath.

Stumbling, I land unceremoniously on the top of the wooden storage chest behind me. "Whoa... Easy there, missy—"

A loud crack rends the air.

"My name is Valeria Beauvaisis de Lavallée, Viscountess of Roussillon, you boor," she pronounces imperiously, sticking her heeled foot into my chest to push me back against the wall.

Lifting my hand to my stinging cheek, I feel a wetness beneath my fingertips. She managed to draw blood.

"And you will call me mistress." Wedging the leather keeper beneath my chin, she forces my gaze up to meet hers, demanding compliance. "Understood?"

The sharpness of the pain colliding with a sudden flash of animosity spikes my arousal into completely uncharted territory.

Domination? Rough play? Bit of bondage? Sure. I’m down for all that. But normally I’m the one running that particular show. So, finding myself on the receiving end of my own kinks is disorienting, to say the least...

...but not enough for me to want to tap out.

So, I give her the barest of nods.

"Good boy," she purrs approvingly, taking her foot off me to trail the end of the crop down my neck like a caress. "Now disrobe yourself."

My eyes narrow. It’s gonna be like that, huh?

Grabbing the bottom of my jersey, I start to pull it up slowly, holding her gaze the entire time.

Because while she may have managed to temporarily leash me, that doesn’t mean that I was suddenly her poodle, doing tricks on command.

So, while I’m willing to play along, it’s gonna be on my terms.

And I’m determined to make her sweat.

The bottom of the shirt clears my ribs, and I don't miss the sharp intake of breath as she rakes me with her gaze.

Plus, it’a satisfying to test her prepotence. No matter how marginally. Because she isn’t the only one here who can power-play.

I fling the shirt off.

"Now your bottoms," she commands hoarsely, alabaster cheeks flushed pink with arousal — and I haven’t even touched her yet.

I comply, reaching for the clasps at the front.

Her tongue darts out to moisten her bottom lip in anticipation.

I pop the top fastening.

Her pulse visibly quickens.

Finding the zipper, I start to inch it down lazily, my brazen gaze not leaving hers as I push myself back up to my feet.

Her breath catches in her throat as I shove the jodhpurs down. "Nom de Dieu..."

A lupine smile curves at my lips as I take a step closer. "You like what y—?"

I grunt as another blow lands on me.

"I did not tell to speak, rake," she bristles indignantly. "You will—"

The sudden jolt of pain unleashes something feral inside of me.

"Fuck this," I growl.

Grabbing her roughly around the waist, I snap her to me.

Her eyes widen in shock.

But before she can protest further — or whip me again — I've crushed my mouth to hers.

She may like playing the ruthless domina, but there is only one way this is gonna end — with her bent over, getting fucked.

Because I’m nobody's bitch, and refuse to be treated like one.

Her palm connects with my face. "How dare you!"

I jerk back in confusion. "Wha—?"

"I didn't give you permission to touch me, you presumptuous oaf!" she snaps, laying into me with her crop again. "Much less kiss me in such a disgusting fashion! I have a husband for that!"

My eyes widen. "Wait! You're marr—?"

"To a degenerate old todger who can't even do his business in the john, let alone with his wife," she pronounces, shoving me backwards. "So, I want your cock. And you're going to give it to me."

I crash tailbone-first onto the storage chest again. But I don't even have a chance to try and catch my breath because Valeria's already clambering onto my lap.

Grabbing my jaw roughly between her nails, she hisses, "Now shag me like the wild beast that you are!"

I slap her hand away. "Like he—"

"No excuses!" she screams, smashing the riding crop down against my thigh.

I jerk at the harsh impact...

...and she takes advantage of my momentary distraction to impale herself onto me.

"Jesus fuck!" I cuss as the hard downward momentum nearly snaps my dick in half.

"Mmm! That's it!" she exults maniacally, grabbing onto my shoulders with her manicured nails. "Service me with your functional tool!"

"Find a fuckin' mechanic, then," I hiss, trying to wrest her off me... because while I’m many things, homewrecker is not one of them. And I’m not gonna allow myself to be complicit in adultery. Under any circumstances.

A choked wheeze flies out of me as she grabs my balls in a vice-like hold without warning.

“Service me, you insolent cur," she hisses into my face, "or I'll geld you like one of my unruly colts."

Looking into her flashing eyes, it's clear that she ain’t bluffing neither.

Yup... I'd been definitely wrong about aristo women. They don’t just have a superiority complex. They’re batshit fuckin' insane.

And I should've trusted my gut when ittried to warn me that this beguiling siren was exactly that — a cold-blooded predator out on the prowl.

But — like the literal dickhead that I am — I'd let the promise of a hot fuck hijack my better judgement. Which is exactly what she'd been counting on when she set her sights on me.

I yank her against me with gritted teeth.

Because now that she's sunk her claws into me — quite literally — she isn’t gonna let me go until she got what she came for.

So, the faster we get this done, the better.

And I may as well try to get something out of this runaway train wreck besides the cuts and bruises of the repeated flagellations... and the black mark on my conscience...

...even if it’s just her talons off my junk.

"Yes! Yes!" she cries. "Ride me like a rabid animal!"

But despite that fact that I’m wedged balls-deep up a tight and very willing cunt, the moral weight of the sin I’m committing is apparently stronger than whatever physical gratification I’m managing to eek out of the situation...

Which — all things considered — is the square root of fuck all, as her death-grip on my stones, plus the beating I already received out on the field are conspiring to make each upwards thrust feel like a literal act of torture.

So, I start to deflate.

"I said harder!" she cries, momentarily releasing the hold she’s got on me to slap me remorselessly with that accursed crop.

"Nope," I say, taking advantage of the unintended opening to buck her off me into the cold stone floor. "We're done."

"You vile cretin!" she shrieks, spitting her blonde hair from her face as she pushes herself up from the undignified, ass-in-the-air position she landed in. "How dare you treat me in such an abominable fashion!"

I snort sardonically as I quickly stand to yank up jodhpurs that had pooled ‘round the tops of my boots. "What? Never been thrown off your high horse before?"

"Why you contemptuous little—!" she seethes. "I should have you whipped!"

"Pretty sure you've done that already," I grunt, fastening my pants with record speed. "And if this is any indication of how you treat your horses, then I hope they dump you in the fuckin' dirt as well."

"Oh, please," she laughs. "My horses are much too well-trained for such tasteless displays of disobedience. They know who their master is."  She flicks her eyes over me disdainfully. "Something which cannot be said for you, you pretentious churl."

I feel my hands fist by my side. "You are not—"

"And while you may cavort with royalty, do not make the mistake of thinking that you are — or will ever be — anything more than a flea-ridden lapdog, doing tricks for scraps. So, if you know what's good for you, commoner," she decrees, spreading her legs imperiously, "you better finish what you started."

"You're right," I concede, taking a step towards her. "I stepped out of line..."

Her eyes glint in victory. "Easy to do if you weren't born into this world..."

"...by giving you the mistaken impression that I give a fuck about what you think of me." Picking up the dropped riding crop, I toss it at her. "So, you can finish yourself off, mistress."

She splutters in disbelief as the crop hits her on the chest. "But... You... How dare—?"

"Hope that riding crop's hard enough for you," I throw over my shoulder as I turn my back on her to scoop my jersey off the floor.

"You insolent, mouthy dog!" she screams. "You will not—!"

But I've already marched out of the tack room, leaving her shrieks of rage to echo emptily behind me.

I heave a relieved breath as I pull the sweaty shirt over my head...

Sweet fuckin' Jesus...! Talk about assault with a (less than) friendly weapon! That girl gave a whole new meaning t—

...and nearly crash into Chris as I round the corner.

"There you are!" he cries happily. "We were wondering where you had disappeared off to!"

"Just...umm... sorting the horses," I mutter, quickly yanking the rest of the shirt down.

"Can't stay away from the pretty fillies, huh, mate?" he grins, clapping me on the shoulder.

I wince under the impact. "You can say that..."

"Well, there should be plenty of those where we're going — the boys want to head out to celebrate our win!"

"Sure," I reply congenially. "As long as there's whiskey and lots of ice..."

Christ knows I need a drink... or ten, after today.

"I'm sure we can manage that."

"And I can burn these fuckin' jodhpurs."

As promised, this is the music video (and song) that helped inspire this fic (obviously doesn't help that one of the polo players looks like Drake 😇). Also, the video is 100% accurate in the fact that a major reason why women watch polo is so they can oogle the polo players under the pretense of being absorbed in the game 🤣

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @aussiegurl1234 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @angelasscribbles @nestledonthaveone @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @xpandass420x @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @berriesandpixels​ @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesjanuarychallenge @drake-walker-appreciation

Picture credits:

Fall- Drake - Polo - Valeria

[lovecomeswallowmeup]

Being a stranger things fan while living in indiana is so funny like??? Where's the snow and the potholes