#not that the whole design was made with his fuckability in mind

[leaderincrows]

I had a lore dump written out and then it was gone, so here’s attempt no2 + some shots of the other side of his face. This is trimmed down and not all my thoughts. I’ll stick most of it under a read more because it’s a smidge more body horror of the eldritch tentacle variety.

In canon I believe Sylus started out as something, had something else inflicted on him, and then the addition of the aether core changed him some more. My intent with this design is that you shouldn’t be able to tell exactly what his original state should be because we’ve gotten CRUMBS on this guy so far. Of the handful of little things he’s given us, my brain has latched so hard on to his promise card where he didn’t want you to watch him dig bullets out of his arm because he didn’t want you to think he’s a monster??? What’s going on under your skin my dude??? Serial killer talk but I wanna know. He’s so confident in every other aspect of his being but he feels some amount of shame for what he is, and I think it’s because he’s some twisted broken thing lacking identity or kinship.

Due to his business model of (crime) gambling and making deals, I think he’s lacking a life/heart/mortality to lose because of a deal he made. It’s unclear if this was bad or good for him. I like the fallen angel theory but I don’t think he fell for the same reasons as Lucifer, I think it’s far more in character for him to have made a deal with a demon/a devil figure because he did not like the high authority he was under and wanted out, and not because he wanted to be king of the world. He doesn’t like authority in general, and for being a bad guy he doesn’t seem to punch down. He said he doesn’t like or dislike animals but the Disney princessesque things that keep happening to him say otherwise, I think he respects them a little more than most of the people he deals with to be honest. While I was typing this out the first time I was reminded of Alucard from Hellsing, as this powerful immortal being who finds mortality and mortals beautiful. He especially liked the ones with strength in some form, physical or in their resolve, will to live etc but animals just sort of exist. They lack those human flaws that seem to annoy Sylus (incompetence, cowardice, disloyalty, to name a few I’ve noticed) and remember that he doesn’t think of Mephisto as a pet. The way that he can seem to get animals apart from cats to just listen to him is. Interesting. I can argue he’s got some bird traits but a lot of them actually overlap with the dragon association so I think you guys get it. My additions are a little obscure and largely opinion as someone who owns both reptiles and birds lol

But back to his inability to die, my theory is a Davy Jones situation where his life exists somewhere but he doesn’t have it. Maybe he gave it to mc, or gave it up for her, but whatever it is I think he at least knows where it is. I can’t imagine someone like Sylus would be content with someone else possessing something so important, unless it’s mc of course.

I am a pretty firm believer that eternal beings always end up jaded and miserable. Sylus has built himself a lifestyle where he can acquire any material thing he likes, so I think he might be in the early stages of chasing any and everything that makes him happy. He’s not desperate for the serotonin yet but it’s only a matter of time. The addition of mc is a refreshing breath of that life he’s lacking into his existence.

On that note, this monster form I made for him is damaged/incomplete, and it’s asymmetrical and imperfect. Without a driving life force he’s crumbling, but since he can’t die he’s stuck. Whatever he is, it’s unnatural, neither life or death want him so he’s some in between thing. Leaning a bit more into that horror his body is broken, haphazardly kept together by his evol. Outside the crystalline wanderer claws and ruby veining he’s very dull, no shine in his eyes as if he’s an empty husk. BUT he’s got something sloshing around inside him, I just don’t think it’s blood and organs. His ridiculous heart rate is probably something else, something that’s only kind of good at mimicking a heart beat.

PERHAAPPSSs is the gross bubbling of viscous eldritch void soup and tentacles helping keep him the motor running. Again it’s only kind of good at pretending to be alive. He’s already pretty broken so he breaks himself up sometimes, on purpose.

Like when he’s feeling bitey, or really wants someone to leave. Like for the few mentions of having a scarred past and being a monster I sure do hope he’s some genuinely beastly blighted looking thing. Maybe he really is a wanderer that caused the appearance of all the wanders in the world and that’s why he doesn’t want mc to know, but I’m not convinced. I feel like it’s gotta be worse than that. Infold can we have 1 memory that doesn’t take place in the present day

My take on whatever is going on with Sylus, combining the demon/fallen angel and wanderer theories.

[barnesbabee]

Drunk In Love || K.H

Summary: Drunk nights make mistakes, but who’s to say drunk nights can’t fix mistakes?

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: It’s lenghty this one

Genre: Double Smut, Angst, Fluff

⚠ praising, spanking, alcoholism ⚠

A/N: My mom saw a pic of Hongjoong and says he was good looking. Hongjoong stans we stay winning. Also as you may notice, that’s right, I fucking hate MAMA. All hail 2015 G-Dragon MAMA diss. Enjoy xx💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

  Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the desperation or some sort of mutual attraction that had unknowingly lingered between the two of you for far too long, but the second you stepped in the room something clicked with Hongjoong.

  A bunch of well-known idols reunited after a MAMA event to celebrate and let out their frustrations after that dog-shit show, and you happened to be invited as ATEEZ's plus one. You worked in KQ as an assistant, and the boys grew to like you after seeing how hard you worked for everyone under the label, so they figured it would be fair.

  Hongjoong had never seen you or thought about you like that, but God, that wine-colored dress suited you like it had been specially designed for your body. His eyes were glued to your figure at all times, and after a couple more shots, it became unbearable to just stand and watch.

   The male approached you, loving the way how he finally towered over someone, and confidently placed his hands on your hips as his chest made contact with your back.

    "Honour me with a dance?" He sheepishly asked in your ear.

    You turned around to see who it was, and you were pleasantly surprised. Out of the eight boys, Hongjoong was the one you least expected to have an approach like this. You finished the rest of your drink in one gulp and placed your hands on his biceps.

    "Why of course." You sang in his ear and smirked.

    He dragged you to the dance floor and pulled you closer by the waist. His hands felt you up and down and made sure to apply some pressure on the sides of your ass.

  "You look so good Y/N, so fuckable."

  You perked up your ass and pressed against his growing hard-on, earning a groan from the male.

   Everything from then on was a blur. You remember dragging him to the men's bathroom and locking the door of the small room. You remember having him push against the stall's door and messily pulling up your dress while working on the purple marks you now had on your neck. And you certainly remembered the way he pounded you against the public bathroom's door and made you yell his name.

    All of that hit you like a truck the morning after, when you woke up sprawled on your bed, still with the previous night's dress on and missing your panties. You felt like shit, and looked like it. Your makeup was smeared all over your face and your hair looked like it hadn't been brushed since last week, but what surprised you the most were the hickeys on your neck. Your fingers trailed along the purple marks as you examined them in the mirror.

   "No... no, no, no!"

   You gripped your hair in desperation and tears fell down your eyes. You didn't want this, you didn't need this. As you rummaged through your head to try and find who could you possibly have had sex with the previous night, and image of Hongjoong biting his lip as he caressed your breasts flashed on your mind.

   You sunk to the floor and exhaled. At least you knew who it was... But you liked all of them so much, you didn't want any awkwardness. You didn’t want a wave of tension wandering in the room everytime you and Hongjoong were together. You immediately searched for your phone, half-expecting a message from the older boy, however, there was nothing. So maybe he didn't remember the night at all and nothing would change!

   That theory quickly washed down the drain the next day when you arrived work. The second you locked eyes with Hongjoong a million words were silently spoken. His breath quickened at the sight of your body, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted to apologize, he wanted to make it up to you, but he didn't dare to do so... He cowered every time he looked at your doubt-filled eyes.

   He couldn't stop thinking about you, about your body, about the way you felt... And soon after he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, the way you laughed, the way your face scrunched up whenever you entered the practice room that constantly smelled like sweat, and how small you seemed, which made him want to protect you from any harm.

   Hongjoong wasn't sure how much longer he could go without hugging you and hearing you call his name. God, he missed the playful way his name left your lips... He felt so insanely sorry he couldn't make himself go talk to you.

   But so did you. You kept wondering, why didn't he talk to you? Maybe he was embarrassed, maybe he regretted it and maybe he thought that the whole night had been a huge mistake. Those thoughts kept you up at night for days, drowning in your own tears and biting down on your pillow. Only you knew how much you missed his beautiful smile and his sweaty arms wrapping around your figure when you brought them coffee mid-practice.

   It was slowly destroying you both, and feelings you never thought existed were now as clear as day, and the two of you hated that you had only realized it in this situation. You only realized you loved each other when it was too late.

   It was another tardy, hopeless night when you arrived home. The second you sat down on your couch however, you realized you'd accidentally brought home a couple of files that absolutely should not be sitting on your coffee table.

   "Fuck..." You groaned and rolled your eyes.

  You told yourself you'd go there the next day and deliver them, but after a couple of beers you started feeling guilty. You huffed and dragged yourself out of your bed. You put on a jacket and grabbed the files, lazily making your way to the KQ Headquarters. You quickly put them where they were supposed to be and headed back home. That was, until you heard a couple sobs and sniffles, coming from behind a door that you knew far too well.

   You stopped in front of it, debating if you should open it or not. Ultimately, you decided to push it open. The sight in front of you wasn't pretty: Hongjoong was curled up on the floor, head tilted back resting against the wall and tears falling down his cheeks. Hongjoong's face was red and swollen from all the crying, and you never thought you'd be sad by seeing his face. Around him were scattered bottles of numerous alcoholic drinks and a wave of guilt washed over you.

   You carefully knelt beside the man and stroked his cheek, trying to wipe as many tears as you could. He lazily rolled his head over, to look at you.

   "Y/N?... Is it really you or am I a little too drunk."

   "Both, actually."

   He giggled at your joke, as if he was a little kid and you couldn't help but smile.

  "Hongjoong, what's going on?"

  He immediately became defensive and moved your hand away from his face.

  "Nothing."

  You sighed and rolled your eyes at the man in denial.

   "Hongjoong, something is clearly not okay, please tell me what happened."

   Hongjoong only shook his head and averted your eyes.

   "Nothing, nothing has happened."

   "Hongjoong please don't lie-"

   After pushing him ot speak, he violently stood up, balled up his fists beside his body and sobbed once more. You followed him, also standing up.

  "You happened! Okay!? I-I can't stop thinking about you after that night! I can't stop thinking about your body, and the way you move, and the way you smile, and the way you are! And it kills me! It kills me that I've realized it too late and I can't stand myself because..." He had been yelling up until now, but suddenly his expression softened, and his lower lip quivered as he struggled to say the last few words. “Because it might just have been too late..."

   You only noticed you had been crying when a sob escaped your lips. You approached Hongjoong and grabbed his hands.

   "I've been torturing myself over the same thing."

   Hongjoong looked you in the eye after the confession, as if you had just spoken nonsense.

    "Hongjoong I... I kept thinking that you avoided me because you regretted that night, because you wanted to forget it. You have no idea how much I've missed you but I was afraid you'd shut me down."

   "Y/N I would never do that. I'm so sorry I made you think like that, but I was scared. I was scared that for some reason you hated me. And I'm sorry we did that, you know, in a filthy place like a public bathroom."

    Hongjoong pulled you closer and embraced your body. You reciprocated the gesture, taking in the feeling you had missed for far too long.

    "It's okay Joong, the parts I remember I seemed to be enjoying."

   Hongjoong chuckled and stroked your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo.

   "Is that so?" He pulled away, looking at you with a silly face, to express his disbelief.

   You nodded your head, and a blush crept on your face as you remembered the dirty things you'd done and the filthy sounds you made. Clearly Hongjoong had revisited the memories as well, since you could now feel something poking at your hip. As if you had read each other's minds, both of your stares moved down to your lips, and soon after you connected them.

  Although the taste of alcohol lingered on Hongjoong's tongue, the kiss you shared was sweet, and left you craving for more. The desperation for his touch showed when you brought his hands down to squeeze your ass.

  He sat down on his chair and pulled you into his lap, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind down onto him. He moaned onto the kiss and grabbed your ass once more.

  "You sure you wanna do this?" Hongjoong asked, worried he'd be pushing you to do something you didn't want.

   You ran your hand down his body and stopped at his crotch. You gave his hard-on a squeeze, which immediately got a moan out of him, and smirked.

   "Does this answer your question?"

   Hongjoong gave you a dirty smile in response and pulled your lips back to his. His hands undid the tie on your sweatpants and pulled them down along with your underwear with one swift move. Hongjoong pressed his thumb against your clit and played with it for a second, before your hands found their way to his jeans and stripped him from them.

    You moved your hips against his, so your bare pussy teased his hard cock, as your lips bit on his neck. Once he realized what you were doing he interjected.

   "Hey! No hickeys!"

   You pulled away from his neck and pointed at your own, that still had traces from his love bites.

   "Payback is a bitch."

   He laughed at you and shook his head.

    "I'll get you for that one..:" He told you ominously.

    "Oh yeah? And how will you do that?"

    He entered you swiftly and without a notice, and you had to muffle a very loud moan by burying your head in the crook of his neck while biting down on his shoulder.

   Hongjoong slapped your ass, then grabbed it and helped you move up and down on his cock. Your lips met his as the pace picked up and became more violent.

   It was honestly a surprise to you, and you would've never seen it coming, but Hongjoong liked it harsh and messy, just like you.

    He spanked your ass once more and jerked his hips up to meet the pace. His jaw was clenched as he was set on making you cum first. His fingers found your clit, and at some point you couldn't handle it anymore and just let the dirty praises and moans leave your mouth.

   "I'm almost Hongjoong..."

   "I'm almost there too princess, I wanna see you cum, you look so pretty..."

   Those words threw you over the edge and your eyes rolled back into your skull as you came, moaning Hongjoong's name.

   Hongjoong climaxed right after hearing his name, allowing his cum to fill up your walls.

   Neither of you moved, you just sat there embraced, hoping these moments would soon turn into a happily ever after.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (3) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: (Snoop Dogg voice) greetings, loved ones. welcome to part 3 of the self-indulgent chaos that is N19F! thank you so much for the ridiculously undeserved love for this fic, it’s fast becoming one of my favourites i’ve ever written. in this chapter there’s a group chat revelation, a disturbance in the library, and bonding over a Strongbow. also pls note this chapter isn’t very Scyvie-heavy so if you’re more into that then u could skip this one? idk, as always i know how to sell my fics well xo hope u enjoy and lmk what u think on here or over at @artificialortega! much love xxxxx

p.s. Vanjie’s clapback to the posh girl in the lib is credited to @djoodimattel (Luci on AQ). this was literally what she said to some girl that was staring her down and she is my abso hero so thank u Luce

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

***

“Are you still mad at me?”

Brooke rolled her eyes and stared at Yvie. “I will be if you keep trying to talk to me while I’m in the middle of this.”

Yvie looked at her expectantly. There was a pause. ��So is that a yes, or…?”

“So is that an apology, or…?” Brooke raised an eyebrow, then immediately cringed as Yvie exhaled loudly, causing several heads to turn their way.

“Oh my God, Brooke, I said sorry like the moment it happened,” she hissed in exasperation.

“You fell out with me in the smoking area because you said, oh…wasn’t it something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry for trying to speed up your relationship with Vanjie, you ungrateful bitch’?”

“It was ungrateful cunt, actually,” Yvie tapped away at her laptop and Brooke rolled her eyes. Stifling a smile, Yvie looked at her friend and then reached across to take her hand. “No, listen. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making that comment about you and Vanessa and I’m sorry for calling you an ungrateful cunt. They were both really out of line, uncool things to do. Can you please go back to normal with me before Nina goes into anaphylactic shock?”

Brooke laughed and squeezed Yvie’s hand. “Okay, fine. You’re forgiven. I’ll only bring it up like…seven more times to make you feel bad.”

Yvie chuckled. “Deal.”

Brooke turned back to her own laptop, her design in front of her but untouched for a solid forty minutes as her thoughts had swirled round her head. It was Monday, a new week, and the atmosphere in the flat had been tense over the weekend, as all three of the flatmates recovered from the aftermath of the scathing drunk row Brooke and Yvie had got into. Yvie hadn’t meant to make Brooke feel shit at pres on Friday, she was sure, but the comment still ran through her head and made her wince with cringe- unless your name’s Brooke or Vanessa. Okay, Yvie had almost definitely said it to take the heat off herself, but there had been absolutely no need. There was even less need to call Brooke a cunt, but Brooke knew Yvie had only done that because she felt bad and was covering up her own guilt with barbed attacks and a shit apology.  

She couldn’t stay mad at Yvie, and she couldn’t dwell too much on the comment, not least because Brooke’s head had been occupied by something else that had happened, another drunk revelation that had knocked her for six.

“Brooke Lynn. Duh.”

The most fuckable person in the room, Plastique had asked, and Vanjie hadn’t held back on the answer. Brooke had barely been able to stop thinking about that information since it had been revealed, and it was somehow made worse by Vanjie being completely normal with her for the whole night they’d been out. Okay, for Vanjie, normal still meant cheek kisses and dancing too close and enough compliments to sink a ship with, but part of Brooke wished she had had the confidence to ask her what she’d meant to achieve with her answer. Part of Brooke wished she’d had the confidence to say Vanjie’s name when she’d been asked who she’d most like to fuck in the room, but Nina was a safe answer that deflected the implication. Scarlet was right, it had been a shit one, but a shit answer in a stressful drinking game was far more bearable than dealing with the fallout of an honest one. Part of Brooke- actually, all of Brooke- wished she had more confidence, period.

A sigh from beside her tugged Brooke out of her own head. Yvie was looking at her laptop with incredulity, as if it had done something to offend her. Brooke stifled a laugh. The library really showed you every possible variant of raw human emotion, and if her eyes needed a break she liked to just scan the room and watch people’s faces. Across from her, a boy had his head in his hands and was exhaling deeply. Just deleted the paragraph he’d spent six hours writing. Diagonally opposite, a girl was biting her lip and frowning. Just received an email from her tutor that provided absolutely zero help. The boy beside Yvie swigged from his second energy drink of the day. Right on the tailend of a brutal all-nighter for an essay he has to hand in at midday. It was peak uni, and she loved it.

Giving herself a shake, she turned back to the laptop screen. She had to get this finished so she could get a prototype done by at least the end of the week, and that would be one less thing to do on her now-mountainous list of deadlines. The minutes ticked by and she began to make slow progress. The issue with Brooke studying Fashion and Design was that she was a complete perfectionist and an overthinker, which was both a blessing and a curse when it came to designing things. The essays she could do- they were just her opinions backed up with some articles, and she could fire them off easily enough. Designing was trickier, and that was a problem considering it was what Brooke wanted to do when she left uni.

She was distracted by a flailing beside her from Yvie and a completely speaking-volume pitched “Oh my God” which was deafening on the silent floor. Brooke cringed as the pair received another judgemental look and Yvie tapped her finger against Brooke’s phone rapidly.

“Check the chat. Now,” Yvie not-quite-whispered, Brooke immediately following her instruction. A sick feeling built in her stomach as she opened up her phone, not knowing what to expect or if it was good or bad. She needn’t have worried though, as she opened the chat and saw what was there.

Plastique Bague: so um

Plastique Bague: this happened

Brooke clamped a hand to her mouth as a selfie of Plastique and her flatmate Ariel, naked from at least the chest up with the duvet over their chests, filled the screen. Plastique was pulling a comical smile and throwing up the peace sign, and Ariel was doing the same, but mid-laugh. Brooke looked to Yvie, who burst out into a hushed laugh.

“Oh my God,” Brooke gasped. She was close with Plastique- they’d been on the same course since first year- but she’d had no idea that Plastique even liked girls, never mind having designs on the girl she lived with. Brooke expressed this to Yvie, who snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Bitch, really? I’m starting to think it’s a legal requirement of our friendship group to be at least 20% gay.”

Brooke thought about the most boy-crazy, thirsty bitch she knew. “Silky?”

“Oh come on, we all know Silky would go there with Akeria if she was drunk enough,” Yvie shook her head, Brooke rubbing her forehead and trying to stop the conversation going down a path she didn’t want it to take. She looked back at the chat. There had been fifty new messages in the space of about three minutes.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: BITCH

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: WHAT

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: THE

used Tampon: Omg Plastique!!!!!!!

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: ABSOLUTE

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: ENORMOUS

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: oh my god Plastique

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: GIANT

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ASDDFGHHLLIUEW919191SJSJAAQUWE7FICKC

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: FUCK

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: ???????????

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AKXICOOEOEOWQI2B33 4BRR9SOSSKCNVV

Dave the Laugh: please explain

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ADDFKGLVLCOSAIQJAN

Dave the Laugh: please, please explain

used Tampon: Silky is your phone broken? xo

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: Haaaahahahahaha Scarlet

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Plastique you can’t just drop this information on us and not elaborate

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’m sure that’s a human rights law

Plastique Bague: i’m waiting until everyone’s here

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: FUCK THAT I WANT DETAILS IMMEDIATELY

Dave the Laugh: Nina will be teaching

Dave the Laugh: she doesn’t finish til 3

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: Am I FUCK waiting til 3!!!!!!!!!!!

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Oh hell no

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: DONT MAKE ME FIND U

Plastique Bague: u won’t be able to find me

Plastique Bague: i’m under her duvet xo

Dave the Laugh: please don’t

Plastique Bague: about to start round five xo

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: FIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

used Tampon: Round five oh my GOD!!!!

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: F

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: FIVE!!!!1111111

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: I

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: V

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Round FIVE what the hell have you been up to???

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: E

Plastique Bague: well

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Plastique Bague: came home from being out on Saturday morning

Dave the Laugh: oh shit here we go

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Strap in folks

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: Omg I’m so ready!!!!

Plastique Bague: and she’d been out as well so we were talking in her room

Plastique Bague: u know just flatmatey things

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: #justflatmateythings

Plastique Bague: i was telling her about the question game

Brooke joined in, completely amazed at the turn of events.

mose: This is all amazing Plastique I’m so proud

Plastique Bague: thank u mose

Plastique Bague: so i was telling her about that question u guys had asked about fantasising about a friend

Dave the Laugh: mose ahahaha

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: hey mose xoxoxoxo

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Why do i still find mose so funny

Plastique Bague: and i was like to her have u ever thought about a friend like that

Plastique Bague: and she’s like

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: oh my god this is so intense i feel like i have to whisper

mose: WHISPER

mose: You're…typing

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: aasfgghjkl

Plastique Bague: i think it was because she was drunk

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: The only time Silk has ever typed in lowercase in her entire existence

Plastique Bague: but she was like yeah i’ve thought about you like that before!

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: !!!!!!!!!!

Plastique Bague: and i’m like…oh! have u now!

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: THIS IS TOO MUCH IM BACK TO SHOUTING

Dave the Laugh: this is so hot omg

mose: Oh my god get it girl!

Plastique Bague: and she’s like have u not thought about being with a girl ever? i’m like yeah but not with u bc ur my friend

Plastique Bague: (this was….a lie)

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: That’s a damn lie Plastique and you know it!!!!

Plastique Bague: she’s like well are u thinking about it now?

used Tampon: I can’t deal with this in ANY WAY!!!!!

mose: Bitch this is hot wtf she’s good at seduction

Plastique Bague: and then i was like well…yeah bc we’re talking about it

Plastique Bague: so then she’s like well do u wanna see what it’s like? i’m like…OKAY THEN

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Dave the Laugh: you did not actually respond to that with okay then

Dave the Laugh: tell me you didn’t

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: Okay then ahahaha you’re adorable

mose changed the nickname for Plastique Tiara Edwards to Okay Then.

Okay Then: no i just sort of started kissing her instead of replying

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: GET

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: IT

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: GIRL!!!

Okay Then: so four times over the weekend

Okay Then: i am…very bi

Okay Then: her mouth is amazing wtf

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: Omg my pussy just exploded

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: we don’t need that much detail thanks

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: from either of u

mose: 2 kinds of people

Brooke turned away from her phone and looked at Yvie who looked back at her and laughed. Brooke screamed silently, her mouth wide.

“I can’t believe that’s happened,” she said, her voice excited but controlled in the silence of the library.

“It’s like…the juiciest thing to happen to any of us in months,” Yvie bounced in her chair, her laughter getting ever so slightly louder and causing more heads to turn at the odd sound. Opposite them, a boy got up and left.

“I’m so proud of her. I didn’t think she had it in her.”

“What, Ariel’s fingers?”

“Oh my GOD-” Brooke suddenly burst out laughing, her face flushing red as she watched the people around her grow more and more irate. She dropped her volume. “So that’s why nobody heard from her all weekend? I just thought she was too hungover to move.”

“What do you think will happen? I mean, it is her flatmate, she’s kinda screwed if things get awkward.”

“I’m gonna ask her. No!” Brooke exclaimed, thumping her table lightly. “I’m going to mute the chat and actually do some work.”

Turning to her phone in preparation to be responsible, her heart gave a little leap.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: hey anyone in the lib?? i gotta try n get this essay started sooner rather than later

Yvie turned to Brooke, fluttered her lashes and raised an eyebrow. “I’m gonna be the best wingwoman in the world because I’ve gotta leave for a lecture, so this seat is allll Vanessa’s.”

Brooke smiled, blushed, and mouthed a thank you at her, before hopping back onto the chat.

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: HOW CAN U GO LIB AT A TIME LIKE THIS

mose: Seat free next to me on floor 4, i’ll put my bag on it if you want?

Vanessa responded with six heart eye emojis. In the space of ten minutes, Yvie was gone and Vanessa was striding across the fourth floor of the library like Ariana Grande opening a concert, huge camouflage coat almost-but-not-quite covering her dark blue skin-tight ripped jeans and her oversized Rihanna jumper.

Her face lit up as Brooke leant back in her chair and gave her a wave as she stretched. “Hey Brooke Lynn!”

Brooke was relieved to find Vanjie using at least an attempt at a whisper, even though it still drew a couple of looks her way. She felt her heartbeat heavy in her chest as Vanessa leant forward and gave her a hug. “Hey girl. How are you?”

“Big time shook over the whole Plastique shit, can you believe it?!” she gasped, Brooke amused at how full of almost childlike amazement her expression was. “What do you think’s gonna happen there? I think Ariel’ll be down for it to happen again but maybe Plastique will start to panic and overthink once the high of her fifty fuckin’ orgasms wears off. I mean it is her flat so if things get really awkward she can always evict her. That’s a joke, by the way. Laugh.”

Brooke gave a quiet chuckle as Vanjie reached inside her bag and produced a tiny, lightweight Macbook with a purple galaxy cover. “I thought you were here to do work.”

“I was, then you started talkin’ to me and distractin’ me,” she raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. Brooke gave a cry of incredulity and Vanessa cracked up laughing. Opposite them, a girl got up and left. Brooke wondered just how long it would be until they evacuated the entire floor. “Kidding. Of course. Nah, I need to start my essay, it’s due Friday. It’s like two thousand words, though, I should be fine.”

“Two thousand, Jesus. I forgot it’s a fucking Mickey Mouse degree you do,” Brooke rolled her eyes, Vanessa slapping her on the arm. “Hey! I can joke too, see! Laugh, bitch.”

Brooke smiled as Vanessa pressed her lips together in a smirk, looking every inch the disgraced, told-off student. It made Brooke involuntarily squeeze her thighs together. Suddenly, she felt a pair of eyes on her and looked up to see a girl with huge lips full of filler, that had taken the chair that the boy opposite her had vacated. She was giving Brooke and Vanessa a dirty look, as if to convey the information that her degree was much more important than theirs, and could they kindly keep the noise down? Brooke cast a glance to Vanessa to see if she’d noticed. She had. An idea coming to her, Brooke ripped a page out her notebook and grabbed one of her coloured pens, scribbling down in her messy writing.

We’d better shut up in case Katie Price shouts at us

She then folded it and pushed it towards Vanessa, who eagerly pounced on it, opened it, and then grinned. Shuffling around in her bag for a pen, she typed her password into her laptop and then wrote back.

that’s the face of a girl who needs to get laid x

Brooke ran her tongue over her teeth as she looked back at the girl opposite her and snorted. She grabbed her pen again.

That’s the face of a girl who’s constipated.

She slid the note across to Vanessa, who let out a stifled explosion of laughter into her hand, covering it up as a cough. She wrote back instantly.

nah that’s the face of a girl who’s got cystitis x

Brooke sneaked another look at the girl, instantly noticing the two litre bottle of water on her desk. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from laughing, looked at Vanessa who shrugged smugly, and gave a squeak. Something occurred to Brooke and she wrote again on the piece of paper.

It’s not cranberry juice. Theory debunked.

She pushed the paper across the desk. Vanessa opened it, snorted, and wrote back.

next time on Buzzfeed: Unsolved x

Brooke couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled out of her mouth. It wasn’t even that funny yet here she was, her stomach muscles aching from trying to hold in laughter like she was back in GCSE Biology all over again. Her outburst had attracted the attention of the girl opposite and she was staring at them both again, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. Looking back to Vanessa, Brooke was shocked to find her staring the girl down, her hackles clearly up.

“What are you looking at?” the girl hissed across to her in a posh, affected London accent.

“Not fuckin’ much, apparently,” Vanessa shrugged, Brooke unable to help herself and suddenly doubling over in her chair, laughing loudly and openly in the silence of the library, Vanessa soon joining her. Brooke could feel almost everyone’s eyes on her and, for possibly the first time in her life, she wasn’t a single bit bothered. Was it because she was with Vanessa? Potentially. She didn’t want to say for sure.

Dropping her voice again as she looked back at the furious face of the girl she’d just insulted, Vanessa laughed and grabbed Brooke’s arm for a moment before bundling her laptop back into her bag. “C'mon bitch, we gotta go before someone kills us.”

The girls packed their bags as quickly as they could and sped down the stairwell, howling with laughter and gasping for air as they went. They dashed out of the lobby and out into the square, where they stood recounting the situation to each other for several minutes. As their laughter died down, all that was left was Brooke staring at Vanessa with a big dumb smile on her face and Vanessa smiling back at her, and Brooke swore she’d never been closer to kissing her in her life.

“Uh, so work went well,” Vanessa chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry I distracted you. And very possibly got us both barred.”

“Barred from the library? Shut up. I’m not sure that’s even possible.”

“We could make history, bitch! You never know,” she laughed, starting to walk slowly down the cobbled road that led toward the union. Brooke followed beside her, matching her pace. “Anyway after all that lack of work, I think I earned a drink.”

“Oh, of course,” Brooke said sarcastically, cocking her head and making Vanjie laugh bashfully.

“You wanna grab something?” she smiled up at her, a hopeful shine to her eyes making it virtually impossible to say no.

So ten minutes later Brooke found herself sat upstairs at a table for two with Vanessa opposite her, both of them sipping away at pints of Strongbow Dark Fruits and talking easily, the conversation flowing and making Brooke happy as if she was sitting in the sun on a hot day. There was a lull in the chat where Vanjie looked down through the bannister at the bar below them.

“It’s so crazy to think that without Silky, we might not have met,” she said quietly, then sort of looked at Brooke shyly and corrected herself. “All of us, I mean. Our friendship group.”

Brooke smiled, remembering the moment they all met back in first year. It had been a couple of weeks after freshers’ week and Brooke, Yvie and Nina had sort of all latched on to each other. They had decided to go out to the union for a night out, the three of them preing together in Brooke’s tiny room and ignoring the big party going on in their floor’s kitchen. It was only after they’d paid entry, grabbed a couple of blue VKs, and were dancing to some sort of cheesy Noughties song (either Move Your Feet by Junior Senior or Boom Boom Boom Boom by The Vengaboys- Brooke couldn’t remember) that Brooke and Vanjie’s friendship groups literally collided. Nina had been suddenly bowled over by a big girl crashing into her, her long, wavy black hair flying into her face and the force of her bumping into her sending Nina to the ground. Yvie had immediately squared up to her, her hot temper rendering her prepared to fight, but was held back by Brooke as another girl with straight, blonde hair (at the time it had been cut into a short bob) and bright, perfect makeup had cut in and apologised to Nina, helping her up from the sticky floor and explaining the whole thing had been her other friend’s fault, who’d been excitedly trying to jump on the girl to get a piggyback. The girl had offered to buy Nina, Brooke and Yvie drinks and they’d sat at the bar and chatted for a considerable amount of the rest of the night- introducing themselves as Akeria, Silky and Vanjie. That was really where Brooke’s crush had began, although she hadn’t known it at the time, as the two girls had talked drunkenly and excitedly opposite each other at the end of their table and formed one of those deep connections that Brooke considered rare to come by. That was how they had all become friends, Vanessa and Brooke swapping numbers and the rest of the girls taking their cue from there. Admittedly, there had been teething problems getting Yvie and Silky to gel, but they both seemed to decide to mature a little in second year- Yvie becoming less blunt and Silky becoming less bitchy- and they’d got on almost perfectly ever since. Brooke knew Yvie couldn’t stop herself from making the odd catty comment every now and then, and Vanessa would probably tell her the same about Silky.

Brooke took a sip, not trusting herself to look at Vanessa. “I’m so glad we met.”

“I know, I love our fucking useless squad,” Vanessa laughed in reply, affectionate. Brooke risked turning her head to look down at the paper coaster under her glass.

“No, I mean like us. You know. I love hanging out with you. In a weird way, I feel closest to you out of everyone,” Brooke shrugged, trying to keep her tone level. Why did she feel the need to say all of this? Probably because she was drinking cider on a nearly-empty stomach in the middle of the fucking day. She risked looking up. Vanessa smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Aw, that’s cute. Really?”

“Well, yeah. Plastique and I obviously do the same course and we get on, but we don’t click as much as I do with you. Same with Nina and Yvie. Akeria and Silky I obviously love to death but they’re much closer with you than they are with me. Scarlet I-”

“- barely tolerate,” Vanessa cut in with a judgemental eyebrow, making Brooke cry out in protest.

“No! No, not at all, she’s sweet. Again though, she’s kind of Yvie’s friend first and all ours second. So…I don’t know. Yeah. I just feel closest to you, I guess,” she finished awkwardly, feeling her ears grow hot as Vanessa smiled back at her, happy.

“You’re adorable,” she cooed. She took a sip of her drink then shrugged. “I’d say I’m closest to Silk, though.”

Brooke yelled and thumped the table, causing it to wobble and both the drinks to slosh about in their glasses. Vanessa laughed, squeezing her hand quickly and then pulling it away. “Nah, I love us. I love our friendship, we’re so cute.”

Brooke felt something inside her fall. It was like toppling into bed after a long day and feeling the bounce of the mattress underneath her, the soft pillow against her cheek, the light scent of fabric softener. She tilted her head and looked at Vanessa warmly. The other girl gave a giggle and continued. “No, but like…it’s different to what I got with Silk and Akeria. It’s like we’re the same person, and we ain’t afraid to be open with each other, and sometimes we flirt but it’s like, you know, as friends? I think that’s why the girls always joke about us getting with each other and stuff. You know?”

Brooke suddenly felt as if there was a pane of glass forced between her and Vanessa. Christ, she’d been so stupid. She’d been worse than every sort of boy that girls complained about- building a friendship with a girl on the fact she had a crush on her, keeping everything going in the futile hope that maybe she liked her back. She was a total asshole. Brooke felt a bubble of panic rise in her throat, then pop as she saw the happiness in Vanjie’s eyes. And yet. Brooke, technically, didn’t know if Vanessa liked her back or not. And as much as her mind and common sense told her that she didn’t, Yvie’s constant insistence that she did gave her something to hang onto, a maybe, a what if.

Brooke realised she hadn’t reacted to what Vanessa had said. She nodded wordlessly. Vanessa suddenly frowned.

“Hey. You okay?” she asked her, laughing awkwardly. “Shit, I didn’t mean to put you in your feelings, boo, I’m sorry.”

“No, I uh,” Brooke shook her head, giving a laugh she hoped didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “I was just thinking about the whole Plastique and Ariel thing again.”

Vanessa smiled, then looked at Brooke with interest. “Would you?”

“Would I what, fuck a flatmate? No, never. Yvie and I would just bicker and laugh too much to ever take it seriously, and Nina would fucking tuck me in, bring me hot chocolate and read me a bedtime story.”

Vanessa burst out laughing, Brooke joining in and feeling a little better about things. Vanessa ran a finger around the rim of her pint glass. “Not fuck a flatmate, like…sleep with a friend. In general.”

Brooke narrowed her eyes. She wondered where this was going. Her eyes darted quickly to Vanessa’s glass. It wasn’t even three-quarters empty. “Well, it’d depend on the friend, obviously.”

Vanessa nodded, picking at her damp coaster and then flipping some hair over her shoulder. “I’ve thought about it with all of you bitches.”

Brooke choked on the sip of her drink she’d just taken. Vanessa quickly continued. “No, no, not like that! Just wondering what everyone would be like. Silky would terrify me. She says she’s a bottom but I think she’s really some sort of dominatrix that would physically torture you before fuckin’ you.”

Brooke held her stomach as she crumpled over with laughter. Vanessa continued.

“Yvie would be secretly bratty I think, that wouldn’t work.”

“How come? You’d end up slapping her?” Brooke laughed, choosing not to reveal the fact that she’d heard Yvie and the some of the girls she’d taken home through the walls of the flat and that she was just as intolerant of whining in the bedroom as she was in real life.  

“Nah, because it’d just be us pouting and whining at each other for an hour and nothing would get done about it,” Vanessa laughed, a lick of heat suddenly tingling between Brooke’s legs.

“You are so not bratty in the bedroom,” she objected, trying to inject as much platonic humour into her tone as possible. Vanessa seemed to consider this.

“I have my moments, girl. I’m either bossy or bratty, there ain’t no in between,” she concluded, Brooke trying to push all thoughts out of her head and simultaneously restrain herself from asking further. “Akeria would put some fuckin’ R&B playlist on that’d be weird and unsexy and kill the mood. She actually does this, I’ve heard it through the walls. Don’t tell her I told you that, she’d kill me.”

Brooke pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and nodded. Without knowing what possessed her, she raised an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat. “What do you think I’m like? I’m curious.”

Vanessa held her gaze and it made the hairs on the back of Brooke’s arms stand on end. She paused a minute before she smirked and took a sip of her drink. “I think you put up this Lil’ Miss Perfect front in the daytime and then at night you’re a mess. Like you got your hair all over your face all nasty and you talk dirty.”

Brooke held her gaze, not giving anything away. The heat between her legs was now impossible to ignore. Vanessa laughed and kept going, her voice low and quiet and almost as if she was playing with Brooke.

“You are…such a perfectionist in real life that I think you’d die if you weren’t in control so you’re definitely a top. I feel like you have your moments though. Like sometimes you like getting dommed the shit out of. I don’t know, girl, am I getting warm?”

Brooke gave a quick smile before taking a long drink of her cider. Vanessa was looking at her intently, as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Brooke wondered if she’d been looking at her like that this whole time or if something had changed within the past five minutes. Putting her glass down, she shrugged. "Not telling.”

“Damn, well I guess I’m gonna have to find out for myself one day,” Vanessa shrugged, making Brooke’s heart give a start almost like it had been crashed into. And then the moment was gone as Vanessa laughed loudly, reminding Brooke that this was all just a joke to her, just a hypothetical conversation.

A conversation between two friends about fucking each other. That was perfectly normal.

Brooke’s phone pinged and Vanessa’s buzzed against the table, both girls peering to look at it.

Kim Kardashian-West: I HAD TO TEACH TEN YEAR OLDS ABOUT PARTICLES WHEN I COULD HAVE BEEN FINDING OUT THAT PLASTIQUE SLEPT WITH ARIEL????????

Kim Kardashian-West: I!!! HATE!!! MY!!!!! DEGREE!!!!

And all at once, Brooke and Vanessa were in hysterics, typing away on their phones, and the moment was gone almost as soon as it had been created.

[gascon-en-exil]

So Who’s the Queen?: A Chess of Blades Review (Part 2)

Part 1

With the general overview out of the way it’s time to jump into a critique of the real substance of this game: the four men who can fall in love with Rivian and turn him into the champion bottom he was always destined to be. As with last time I’ll be avoiding major plot spoilers but will spare no detail when I turn my discriminating eye toward the game’s scenes of sweet, tender lovemaking...or raw, kinky fucking, whatever floats your boat. Some of them could go either way.

Fun fact: my silly subtitle for the sex scenes comes from a Japanese expression jokingly proposed as an alternative source for the word yaoi. I thought it only appropriate given what I’m judging here.

Arden

It took some effort for me to ignore that this guy shares his name with the least fuckable bachelor of Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, but eventually I managed. It helps that the two have nothing else in common, up to and including preference of sexual partners.

Arden is the best friend romance of CoB, the only one with whom Rivian has an established history. Thinking back to the similarly positioned Ian in Coming Out on Top, this is a visual novel character type that presents a unique challenge for the writer(s) in that there has to a be an explanation for why the two of them don’t shack up until the events of the game. I rather like CoB’s reasoning for this, as it’s one that plays into both Arden and Rivian’s insecurities and explains why Rivian is so prickly to a supposed close friend during the shared prologue. Arden is clingy and overly expectant, and the game allows this to feel off-putting even partway through his route (which is shared with the “secret” fourth love interest, in a scenario where Rivian decides that he and Arden have grown into such different people that reconciliation is impossible). This is an unusual but not unwelcome way to lead into what is undoubtedly the fluffiest of the romances, in which Arden has to be open about his self-conscious reservations and Rivian has to be willing to forgive. Arden’s protectiveness of Rivian also becomes less grating as the route goes on and the two start to face genuine danger, and as Rivian points out that kind of dedication is actually quite sweet when it’s wanted. The only really awkward thing about the construction of Arden’s route is that, because most of their relationship drama comes from the fallout of their youthful infatuation, it has very little to do with the main plot of a kidnapped little girl. It is at least the most morally straightforward of the routes, one that brings out both Arden’s loyalty to Rivian and to his kingdom (even though he is a bit dense about it, in the tradition of most lawful good paladin-esque type characters) and Rivian’s buried affection for his family. Like I said, it’s pretty fluffy on the whole.

The “Ow, my ass!” rating: Mild. As might be expected Arden’s sex scene is the most vanilla in the game, which is fitting because 1) it matches the more innocent passion of a childhood romance gone horizontal(ish), and because 2) Arden is also a virgin somehow, despite having spent several years in a military environment in a setting where no one cares if guys hook up with each other. There’s no lube, but I can excuse it because Arden both fingers and rims Rivian beforehand. More significantly, Rivian rides Arden’s cock which is not only the most active he ever is in a sex scene but also a great position for the inexperienced to get accustomed to the feeling of taking a dick. Don’t get the impression that this means that Rivian is taking a dominant role, however; the term “power bottom” is more about attitude than positioning, and Rivian is still very much lacking in that department. Also, they have sex on a chair and I have no idea why, since there’s a perfectly serviceable bed in the same room. I like to be able to hold onto my partner’s shoulders when I’m riding him to help keep my balance, but I don’t think that’s worth having to angle myself around the arms. Kind of a toss-up there.

Franz

According to the developer notes in the artbook Franz was the first of the love interests to be designed, and they had a specific exotic flavor in mind that in practice feels very much like how I think Anglos see Continentals collectively. German first name and French family name aside, I get a more Iberian feeling from him personally. Maybe it’s the thing about his country being known for chocolates, or maybe the (very late in coming) self-flagellation...not literal, mind you.

Even leaving aside his real world cultural inspirations, Franz is very much the aggressive rogue type of love interest, the “perverted foreigner” as Rivian describes him more than once who introduces himself by grabbing Rivian on his balcony and practically dry humping him while dropping some foreshadowing regarding the plot. The above image is a comparatively benign moment early on in Franz’s route proper, but it goes to show just how casually grabby the guy is and how Rivian is essentially forced to get used to it. That may be unsettling for some players, but I happen to like a man assertive enough to go for what he wants - although the fact that Franz is vastly hotter and wealthier than many of the men who’ve groped me certainly plays a role there too. In any case the plot of his route - that of the murder of an ambassador in which Franz is curiously interested -  plays into the idea of him as a man of mystery gradually revealed to be driven by something other than sensual indulgence, and getting his good ending requires that Rivian learn to trust and care about Franz even as he’s not at all forthcoming about his identity or motivations up until the very end. Franz’s route is unique in that his sex scene appears before the determination of whether or not you’ll get his good ending and even before certain major revelations are made regarding his character. This suits his roguish appeal just fine, even though the scene itself is kind of...well, see below. Honestly Franz is probably my favorite of the love interests by a narrow margin; he’s rich, hot, aggressive, and shown to be very open-minded about kinks while also capable of genuinely affectionate moments. That’s a rare combination and prime wish fulfillment fodder.

The “Ow, my ass!” rating: Uncomfortably high, sad to say. Props to the guy for being suave enough to lead Rivian through a masquerade ball one minute and then drag him into a storage closet to fuck his brains out the next, but it’s a massive understatement when he assures Rivian that he won’t be gentle. Franz fucks Rivian’s mouth on a cold stone floor and then only takes the time to briefly finger him with spit before impaling the boy. You really have to be into the controlling top persona to enjoy his scene, particularly as there’s little to no (onscreen) aftercare. I was also left feeling disappointed at how conventional Franz’s sex scene felt, after he’d previously teased Rivian about wanting to collar him - he calls him “kitten” throughout their interactions - and enjoying the sight of a cross-dressing Rivian. I definitely enjoy the idea that Franz is into both pet play and feminization, but it turns out to be a case of telling and not showing. At least Franz retains most of his Dom demeanor up through his epilogue, as I would have really rolled my eyes if his kinky tendencies mysteriously vanished after he and Rivian made their big romantic confessions.

Linnaeus

I’m still not sure how I feel about Linnaeus. Part of this is that I’m missing out on the reference; developer notes make it clear that his appearance and personality were modeled after those of characters in the Ace Attorney series, which I’ve never played. I can at least acknowledge the allusion found in his narrative, which reaches its (non-sexual) climax not with a violent confrontation in a mysterious setting as in the other routes but with a courtroom trial. The Steam achievement for winning the trial is even called “Rivian Wright,” at that.

More than that however Linnaeus is a man whose appeal as a love interest exists (in my opinion) on a less visceral or emotional level than the others’. Archetypically speaking he’s the defrosting tsundere who initially seems to not like Rivian very much at all and only gradually comes to enjoy his company after they’ve been thrown together by apparent coincidence in the case of a foreign duchess’s stolen diamonds. Linnaeus is a haughty intellectual and very much a sadist both in and out of bed, but later explorations of his character add depth to his talents as the king’s inquisitor and zeal for bringing criminals - especially the members of the anarchistic Disciples of Ignatius - to justice. Throw in some friction with an estranged cousin who also wants to woo Rivian and might want Linnaeus’s job as well as some earnestly romantic gestures masked by smart-assery and in one case a literal mask and there’s definitely material here for a satisfying romance. There’s some hiccups - the trial is not difficult at all to win, and there’s an optional tarot card reading scene that adds nothing to the route but unneeded foreshadowing and feels out of place besides - but it’s by no means a bad story. Maybe Linnaeus just likes to screw with Rivian too much for my taste, or maybe I’m just not into tsundere types.

The “Ow, my ass!” rating: Of a reasonable threshold, but that doesn’t mean I really care for it. Linnaeus’s sex scene involves edging, begging, and light bondage, three things that I tend to find more annoying than sexy in my own encounters. I do like that he’s a kinky guy and that the game is more willing to show that than it is with Franz, and I also like that Linnaeus comes prepared not just with rope but with lube (finally!). This is more my personal taste than anything, as objectively there’s nothing illogical or inaccurate about their encounter. No doubt their future liaisons become even more maddening, as in the epilogue Linnaeus remarks that he has “instruments” he enjoys using on Rivian. That’s just...not my preferred type of Dom, I suppose? Additionally, for whatever it’s worth Linnaeus’s naughty bits are not visible in either of his erotic CGs due to angling and his fondness for humiliation, which is kind of a letdown.

And no, Rivian never gets to yell “Objection!” during this route. Another missed opportunity, Chess of Blades.

Sabre

Sabre is the guy on the left. The one on the right is Kieran - keep him in mind for later.

This is the secret love interest. His route branches off from Arden’s and cannot be accessed until you’ve completed Arden’s route once. There’s a good narrative reason for this, and on the surface Sabre seems like a great option for a bonus romance. He’s got tons of raw sex appeal, a unique role in the story, and a social status that separates him from Rivian and the other love interests, such that while the other three are each likened to a chess piece protecting Rivian as the king Sabre’s route is more akin to upending the board entirely. Rivian falls in love with a common brawler, ultimately opting to leave the treacherous games of the court behind him. There are two very large problems with this route though:

1) Sabre has the worst voice acting of any of the characters without question. He’s got the accent problem I brought up last time, in his case doubly so because he affects a thick Scottish brogue for his fighting persona which contrasts against his uncharacteristically refined normal voice, but whether due to the VA or the audio recording equipment his volume modulation is also highly erratic. Most of his lines are either screamed so loudly I was tempted to remove my headphones or are so quiet that they’re barely audible, especially at the end of some lines where he just trails off into near-silence. There is very little middle ground, and the combined effect is extremely distracting. It doesn’t help either that Sabre is lumped in with the supporting cast in the volume settings unlike Rivian and the other love interests whose voices can be adjusted individually, so muting him will mute everyone else.

2) Then there’s Kieran, who represents a more complicated issue with Sabre’s route. The two are introduced as close friends and sparring partners who share a healthy rivalry, and even though the romantic focus of the route remains on the developing relationship between Rivian and Sabre Kieran gets in some flirty banter of his own with Rivian and makes it clear that he wouldn’t turn down the nobleman’s admiration. Somewhat shockingly, this actually does culminate in a threesome, even though it’s staged more like the way some straight guys talk about M/M/F threesomes wherein the two men (tops in this case) have their way with the woman while having minimal interaction with each other. As someone who’s engaged in my fair share of threeways with two tops I don’t necessarily object to this arrangement, and in fact I like that it continues to play up the sense of rivalry between Sabre and Kieran. What I don’t like is that after they’ve had sex and Rivian has bid farewell to both of them the epilogue drops Kieran entirely. He’s not mentioned or referenced at all, and everything comes back to Rivian and Sabre rekindling their relationship a year later under noticeably more conventional circumstances. Perhaps a true poly relationship is beyond the capabilities of a visual novel with romance routes like this, but it would have been a welcome addition to the ending if it was mentioned that the two of them get visits from Kieran from time to time and that they’re all working it out. As it stands Kieran just feels like eye candy and a tool for Sabre’s development, which is a real shame since he’s an affable character in his own right (and more competently voiced, that’s for sure - funnily enough by Franz’s VA, using what sounds more like his natural voice).

Combined these two problems really limit how well this route lives up to its potential, but I found that I could grit my teeth through Sabre’s performance and use some creative license in the ending to get around its shortcomings. It definitely feels less well constructed than the three main routes, but as an alternative to Arden’s storyline it adds a fair bit. But then....

The “Ow, my ass!” rating: Off the charts - Rivian should be dead after this sex scene. True, they use lube and Kieran eats him out first, and spit roasting is a common and reasonable practice in a two tops/one bottom arrangement, but then there’s the double penetration. Allow me to remind you that Rivian is a virgin and has apparently never stretched his hole before this encounter, and yet somehow he’s able to take two well-endowed men simultaneously. I’m not buying it, and even worse the position he’s in - sandwiched between two hulking men twice his size as they drill into him from above and below - makes me wonder that he’s more likely to die of suffocation than rectal hemorrhaging. There’s a moment during the narrative climax where Kieran bear hugs a man almost to unconsciousness, so the writers clearly must have known it was a possibility - but nope, the delicate noble boy somehow survives taking two dicks at once while being smashed between two mountains of muscle. Oh, and did I mention that said mountains of muscle have no refractory periods? They both cum from the spit roasting, and then immediately Sabre is hard again and raring to shove his way into Rivian’s poor overtaxed hole alongside Kieran. Rivian’s inner monologue lampshades this downright inhuman stamina, but that doesn’t excuse it when you take everything else that’s off about this scene. I fully understand that this is a wildly hot fantasy for anyone into beefy guys, but more than anything else in CoB this sex scene is decidedly not something to try at home. 

In conclusion...

Arden is sweet, Franz is hot and surprisingly romantic, Sabre comes with issues (and Kieran) but is undoubtedly sexy, and Linnaeus is...something. Good selection on the whole but too bad about Rivian’s hole.

[punkdaddylouis]

quatre: you fit me better than my favorite sweater ♡♡

here comes chapter four :D for whoever cares to read...

♡♡♡♡

"See you tomorrow, Hazza!" Jade, his colleague at Velvety Roses, waves goodbye to Harry as she and her other friend Leigh-Anne descend from the dressing room with their forearms linked, leaving Harry alone in the room, still dressed in his casual clothing.

He smiles contentedly as he sits down and shimmies his bag off of his shoulder, focusing on the mirror and his reflection on it, switching on the yellow light bulbs that are placed along its frame.

He doesn't have any circles under his eyes tonight, it seems; no trace of the tiredness and exhaustion that used to always be prevalent in his system, maybe the full-nights of sleep that he's been getting lately has finally began to pay off.

Harry smiles to himself, knowing that his improved sleeping schedule is very much a derivative of who he is spending his nights in bed with. Harry's been feeling giddy and ecstatic lately, and since he doesn't want to jinx it, he opts for keeping it to himself. The whole thing.

Yes, he hasn't told any of his friends yet about Louis; the unmarried man he's been sleeping with for over the past two months now. Gemma and his mum are the only people that he even decided to inform about this matter, and Harry thinks he'll let it stay that way for now—for as long as he can manage, really.

The only problem is, he and Louis aren't even official yet (technically). Sure, they text every day, talking about their lives and their favorites, and basically anything that crosses their minds, but other than that, neither of them have deemed to put a label on what they are. Not explicitly, anyway.

To be honest, I immensely despise marmite chicken.

Really now ? But they're brilliant ! I'd love it if you would cook me some actually, mon amour ;) xx

Ugh, Lewiiiiiiiis. But okay :) anything for DADDY

No , but seriously ?

Seriously. But you know whattttttt?

What , baby ? :)

I wanna be the Coney Island queen...

Oh , but you are !! :)

But like, I kinda wanna live there, see. I wanna build a house near that place, I wanna be able to visit it any time??

Well ... babe , again , you will :) just you wait and see ! ;)

Huh. What do you mean 'just wait and see?' :o

Louis.

LOUIS?

Daddy! :/

It has been nearly three months since they first met, like officially met—nearly three months since Harry went over to Louis' place for a proper introduction.

After Louis' returned from his trip to Paris back in mid-July, they've gone out on posh dates, well, that's what Harry calls it, and they still regularly go out whenever Louis' free. Louis has taken him to extravagant restaurants around LA, bought him flowers and offered him joyrides downtown, and whenever they got back to Louis' mansion in Beverly Hills they'd have mind blowing sex that would make Harry feel like he's walking on air for days.

They call each other when they're not together, having decided that they didn't want to limit their communication to just texting, visit the other when one is working and the other isn't, and just, they can't seem to get enough of one another—it's almost like they're over-infatuated teenagers that are undeniably in lust with their brand new crush and it's addicting. Louis has been painting different versions of Harry relentlessly, and Harry has been basking in Louis' talent and open devotion to him. It's the type of infatuation that's more like a whirlwind and Harry wants to swim in it forever.

When Louis is gone to destinations for work and Harry is unable to visit him, Louis usually brings home souvenirs or postcards when he returns.

"So, hey, I was at work tonight and I heard this song on the radio and thought of you. Just thought I'd call you up and share the news," Harry rasps over the line, grinning madly to himself, talking about an 80's love song he heard from the radio.

"That's cute, baby," Louis replies in a fond voice, sighing on the other line. "I'm actually signing some papers at the moment. Exhausting, if you ask me. I'm glad you called, just what I needed. Thank you."

Harry hums, nodding despite the fact Louis doesn't see him.

And then after a beat of comfortable silence, "God, I wanna see you, Lou," Harry confesses, groaning. "Miss you."

"I know, baby," Louis agrees softly, his tone near-cooing. "But I have to finish with this, though... Hmm. How about I take the first flight Friday morning and hop on a plane to get home to you, oui? And then before you even wake up the next day I'll be on that bed of yours, sucking you off so good you won't even know how to breathe proper. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a plan..."

"Mhmm. Glad we agree."

It's been set in stone that Louis will be painting every version of Harry that he can possibly dream up—which Harry feels so special and beautiful—and so he dresses up for the older lad to have his figure translated on the canvases, articulately painted on by various paintbrushes and oil paints.

They do this a lot, even though it's only possible for them to do it when Freya's not around. The lass parties a lot, and it has only made more sense to Harry that she and Louis didn't really share a lot of things in common because, apparently, she was adopted when she was a teenager and had a difficult time throughout her past. Now she's rebelling, and her actions only worsened when her dads parted ways years prior. She's more fond of Phil, Harry now understands—that guy who broke Louis' heart by cheating. Harry isn't really that bothered by any of this, now that he knows...a little.

Taking out his outfit for his tonight's performance, Harry immediately strips off his casual clothing and then slips on a new pair of tight women's jeans and his new pink floral sheer shirt he bought from YSL. He fixes his hair as he looks at the mirror, ruffles it a few notches, and then slips on his trademark headscarf, some of his curls sticking out. He decides to leave them be. For the final touch, Harry puts the clip-on earring (a cross design, because he and his sister have got an affinity for cross and it's their thing now), the one Gemma got him last week, and he's finally done by wearing his sparkly boots.

Harry slips out of the dressing room to see if his mate, Ed, has already finished with his own performance on stage, but when he sees he is only halfway through his last set, it gives Harry a few more spare minutes to relax in the dressing room.

He sits yet again on his stool, tapping his fingers against the chipped wood of his vanity. He didn't have an incoming text from Louis when Harry checked it early on, and he wonders if there is one now. He isn't unlocking his phone to find out though, he's too anxious to do so. In the end, Harry just picks up the lipstick straying in his reach and applies some on his lips, completing it by pursing his plump lips together. And Harry wants to giggle as he stares back at his own reflection, because fuck if he doesn't look great. Louis will totally bend him over his desk later on tonight, he's sure of it. Harry grins wickedly at the thought, feeling himself blush at the image entertaining his mind.

~*~

Harry's got five songs in his set list for the night, all will be played by Ed, who is his backup guitarist, and he's ready to perform as soon as he steps on the stage, the spotlight focused solely on his figure, playing glorious shadows with the contours of his body.

This is what Harry loves doing, he has always loved it, but now he's loving it even more—especially now he's got inspiration. Harry puts on his most charming smile, knowing Louis has promised to be in the audience tonight, wanting to give his best. He's picked out his most favorite songs he has spent days rehearsing over and over again, and he's determined to show his daddy what he's worthy of.

The room is dimmed, Velvety Roses once again filled with men and queer folks, the majority of the crowd being bikers and drunken travelers from either the south or up north.

Harry grips his personal microphone, the green taped below visible to the audience, his gaze searching the crowd for a certain man with the fiercest persona he's ever been acquainted with in his entire entity. The one man that's actually made him feel sexy and fuckable by just being stared down by him. The one man that can give him one piercing, icy gaze racking over his body and make him feel weak in the knees. The one man that can make him either bend over a table and beg to be fucked or drop down to his knees in a millisecond flat, mouth wide open so his throat will get gagged, mouthful of thick, hard cock. Louis fucking Tomlinson. His man, his painter, his Frenchman fresh from Paris, who always smells of expensive perfume, always is adorning Rolex watches on his wrist and loves driving him places with his black Mercedes Benz.

Harry licks his lips just as his eyes stop directly on him, finally; there, right there. Louis is seated on a stool by the bar, wearing what Harry can make out to be some royal blue blazer and trousers that match, his soft fringe brushed up, revealing his forehead, aviators perched over his nose and covering his dominating blue eyes, a flower pinned to his suit's breast pocket, probably an indication he's just gone to some event and went straight from there to see Harry without bothering to change. And fuck—fuck he looks good, is the thing. Daddy looks so fucking god-like, a fucking modern-day James Dean. And Harry's so weak for him; so, so weak for him.

Has seemingly noticed he's been looking, Louis raises his hand holding a pint and commemorates a toast to Harry. Harry just nods, face instantly numbing with heat, shoulders sagging into submission. Yep, Harry the usually confident and notorious harlot is a downright submissive when it comes to Louis, and yes, it's insanely ridiculous.

"Good evening, boys," Harry greets over the crowd, his voice echoing all over the dingy ole bar. Wolf whistles and loud whooping erupt from the audience, men of different sizes and colors clapping enthusiastically. Harry smiles his best, batting his eyelashes in a flirtatious manner. "How's everyone's night so far? If there's any newcomers here, please kindly stand so the veterans can welcome y'all."

There are four or five newcomers who stand, earning greetings from others, and Harry spends that chance to look at Louis across the bar yet again, catching Louis watching him intently while sipping on his beer. Harry winks at the older man, before proceeding to speak over the mic. "So, tonight folks, Ed here, you guys know him. He is gonna be my guitarist. And of course, as per usual I'll be singing five different songs for you all."

There's another round of bustling and applause, but when it dies down, Harry takes that as his cue. Ed starts plucking, strumming the first notes.

And so Harry closes his eyes and starts with the first verse, already quite into the moment. "Blue jeans, white shirt. Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn. It was like, James Dean, for sure... You're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer..."

~*~

Harry tries not to squirm as Louis nibbles on his left ear. He fails anyway, giggling madly as he scoots away from Louis' reach. "Look so beautiful tonight, baby," Louis murmurs softly, smiling from the driver's seat. "Earring looks perfect on you, too, maybe I should buy you a whole set."

"Really now," Harry challenges, cocking a brow at Louis mischievously. He's lighting a cigar, putting it in between his lips.

"Oui, chéri. You look pretty in them," Louis insists as he nods vigorously to get his point across, turning onto a street and honking at another car. They're on their way back to Louis', with Louis driving them both in his car number three, as Harry marks it. He's got six of them, so it's best to just be naming them by numbers. Harry sometimes goes to work without bringing his own car, knowing Louis will fetch him in one of his exuberant vehicles.

"Fine, fine. Thank you, babe, but that's a no," Harry responds after his giggling fit, blushing red. He thinks nice try with Louis even suggesting buying him things. Don't get Harry wrong—he believes Louis' only being sweet and nice at the same time for spoiling him, but. Really. Louis spends ridiculous amounts of money on him, despite the money usually going towards dates and free rides, free food. Perhaps buying him something every once in a while is good, but not this soon though. Louis has literally just bought Harry a new cellphone, he doesn't need anything else.

Shaking his head at the thought, Harry exhales the grey smoke and makes a face after realizing they're suffocated inside the car.

"Are you sure? But you'll definitely look wonderful in other designs, Harry," Louis presses on. Harry shuts him up by leaning over and kissing his open mouth. Louis moans in response, and before he can even kiss back, Harry pulls away and sticks his tongue out, teasing Louis and making him make that gaping, surprised look he's giving Harry, and then takes another drag from his cigar. "Tease you are, doll. Keep it up and daddy won't fuck you tonight," Louis tells him.

Laying back, Harry puts his legs up and rolls down the window next to him, letting the brisk evening air swell against his face, grabbing a stick of gum and starting chewing. He lets his smoke join the fluttering wisps of wind as he ignores Louis' threat altogether; knowing full well, not he nor Louis actually believes that bullshit. "So, where were you before you went to VR? You look pretty fancy to me, wearing that suit and everything." He gestures with his hand to give emphasis to what he's pertaining to.

Humming, Louis stops at a red light and thrums his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at Harry. "Was called in to have a meeting with the rest of the gallery insulators just this afternoon; discussed a few things, mostly about the blueprinting of the place... They needed me in a tux, I gave them matching suits." Louis smiles again, removing his aviators and wearing them to Harry, catching Harry off guard a bit. "Did you like it?"

Harry bites his lip, keeping himself from breaking into a fully wide grin at that. "Like?" He breathes out, fixing the glasses over his nose and pecking Louis' hand. "I love it, Lou. Truly," he says honestly. "How was the meeting, though?"

Louis shrugs. "Alright."

Harry nods.

The ride doesn't take long now, the two of them laughing about absolutely nothing and every little thing mentioned, and before Harry can even finish his third cigarette, Louis' pulling him inside the house and is backing him up against the wall, hungrily going for his jaw and nipping at his skin, the chance that Valeria could be lingering by the kitchen doorway be damned. Harry laughs as he has the need to drop his cigarette stick on the floor's tiles, hugging Louis with his right leg and letting their groins grind.

"Honey, don't you think we should..." Harry starts but sooner trails off, just as Louis lets out a low mixture of growl and moan, letting go of Harry and then dashing up the stairs, looking back just to signal Harry to follow him.

Harry does as he's told, taking two steps at a time as he ties up his hair in a bun.

Once they get to Louis' room, Harry is bent over the bed with his arse poised upwards into thin air in record time, Louis lingering behind him, probably admiring his pert bum from behind, given the fact he's not even touching Harry but just breathing on his exposed hole. Harry groans and squirms, whining his protests at all of the impatience that's swirling in his abdomen. "Sshh, baby. Just... let daddy look at your beauty for a little while more," Louis whispers huskily, obviously hot but is refraining in the name of casually admiring someone's ass. Jesus.

Hot in the ears, Harry swallows as he wiggles his ass a bit, face smashed against the plush pillows on Louis' bed, hands clutching the sheets as he waits it out. He can feel his muscles retracting at each fan of breath Louis lets out that hits his cooling skin, feeling his dick already forming a semi. And fuck, Harry needs Louis to do something.

"Please..." He pleads, word muffled by the sheets.

"So, so beautiful, baby. So pink, that hole of yours. I love it. If only I can paint you looking like this. So loose, so submissive for daddy," Louis recites, tone of voice clearly enticed, and wow. He really, surely makes Harry feel so admired—treasured—and cherished. And no man has ever... not in this level of, not this way, considering he'd always been just a fuck. Harry's heart feels as though it will fucking explode, just thinking about the possibility that he may not be anymore.

Writhing on the bed, Harry untangles his legs from the duvet and spreads his thighs for Louis' sake of better access. He hears the older man hum in appreciation as he does just that. Harry thinks he's ready. Like so damn ready.

Moments to their silence, eventually so, Louis grabs on Harry's arse cheeks and slaps one of them, making Harry hiss in both pleasure and striking pain, pushing forward and sheets-clenching. Louis yet again lets out a low growl, and then he's suddenly sticking his tongue across Harry's sensitive rim, tasting him, spiky stubble against meaty flesh.

Moans and multiple incoherence escape Harry's lips just as Louis' started properly eating him, tongue lapping across his hole and nibbling, thin lips against tingling pink skin. "Oh, jesus fuck," Harry suppresses in a low voice, breathing heavily in and out. Louis rewards him with another spanking at that, making him yet again yelp and writhe responsively, consistent currents of arousal coursing through his veins and going directly to his untouched cock. He can feel himself leaking and it's driving him fucking mad.

"Tellement bon pour papa," Louis murmurs against his puckered hole, eager tongue pushing in and out, hot breath fanning and rendering goosebumps on Harry's exposed arms.

"Louis... Louis..." Harry chants in loud squeaks, "please, daddy... just... please..." Harry doesn't really know what he's begging for if he's honest, but with situations such as this one, he can't seem to help murmur words out of his mind. It's ridiculous. They are ridiculous. But Harry thinks they fit anyway.

And so it goes. Louis continues to eat him out, hand spanking his ass again and making him moan loud, before going for his completely hardened dick between his thighs, and then pumping on it fast. Harry feels wrecked quite already after that, can't stay still, pushing and pushing his ass toward Louis' face for more, more, more. Louis gives it to him, he's a non-difficult negotiator when it comes to giving anyway. He may be is born to give.

After a few more thrusts, Louis frees him for just two seconds and then quickly flips him over, spreading his legs wide. Harry's so dizzy with pleasure he can barely see straight now.

And until it all gets blurry from there, being the only thing Harry is remembering is that of Louis fucking him hard without the use of condom and only lubricant, leaving him limp and pliant in contentment afterwards, cleaning him up off come and the both of them sleeping the night off, cuddled up in heavenly soft bundles.

He also remembers Louis kissing the top of his head as he spoons him from behind.

~*~

By the time Harry stirs awake the next day, he finds himself curled up in a ball, strong, tattooed arms wrapped around his torso, soft snores being pressed against his nape. Harry allows it as Louis' still deep in his slumber.

Harry ever so slowly takes Louis' arm off his body and presses his feet on the ground, stretching his arms wide and then padding across the room. Harry gets in the bathroom with nothing on, switches the lights on, and borrowing a toothbrush from Louis. He brushes his teeth to get rid of the staleness that formed overnight, washes his face with cold water, and then takes a morning wee.

When Harry leaves the loo, he sees Louis' still peacefully sleeping, so that gives him more time to himself.

He sits on his rumpled side of the bed, and gives into the urge to look at Louis' sleeping figure next to him, and to just like, admire what he's like. He stares for a bit before the thought occurs that watching Louis sleep is weird and creepily intimate, considering they aren't even official. The realization brings a stinging feeling in Harry's stomach. For some reason that he can't define.

Speaking of, Harry should probably cook them some breakfast.

Picking up his underwear off the ground, Harry quickly slips it on, and then, seeing as his overnight clothes are all somewhat dried off of the work's worth of sweat, Harry disregards them and just goes straight to Louis' closet and plunders it for something he can fit into. He chooses an oversized jumper in the end since it's the only thing that can wrap around his bigger frame. It's a lavender colored one and is tremendously cute, and it's large enough that it stops on his thighs and leaves his underwear out of plain sight, creating sweater paws with how long each sleeve is. Harry happily sneaks out the room wearing just that, and then he travels down to the kitchen, meeting Valeria halfway there.

"Hi!" Harry greets her cheerfully, waving a hand and dimpling, leaving Valeria no choice but to swallow down her French and say Hello back, accent exceptionally thick. Giggling at the sound of it, Harry proceeds to the kitchen and drags the old woman with him, linking their arms together enthusiastically, as though they've been the best of buddies for years. It is the first time Harry hears Valeria's laughter bubble from her lips, asking how last night had went—casually too! Well, Harry's just as proud and vocal as he tells her about everything, from his performance to the ride back home, minus the awesome sex, though. Because he's kind enough to spare her those details.

When they reach the kitchen, they both help each other make pancakes and tea, Valeria willingly giving Harry the details as to where things are around the massive place, and as to how does Louis like his breakfast each morning in 'the Mademoiselle Valeria way'. Harry's just really happy he gets along with the housemaid, no matter if she's only that; a housemaid.

Two sunny side ups, a few sausages and mountains of perfectly browned pancakes later, Harry and Valeria take the trays full of food with them and soldier back up the staircase, taking their time strolling along the long quiet hallway, and then stopping at the door to Louis' room.

It's Harry who hip-checks the door open to reveal a still sleeping Louis by the bed, only now that the man has changed positions. Harry nods at Valeria as she beckons to place the tray by the bedside table, and then she leaves with a kind smile right after that. Harry, on the other hand, places the tray he's holding on the other bedside table where Louis lies near, leaning down to whisper in Louis' ear.

"Mon amour," Harry coos, attempting French. It causes him to laugh when Louis pries an eye open at hearing him say that.

"Bonjour, chéri," Louis rasps, smiling tiny at him. Harry smiles back, his heart pounding drastically in his chest at how blue, blue, blue Louis' eyes are as he looks back at him, especially when the sunlight is hitting his face like this, softly contoured eyelids and nose and cheekbones presented like magnificence at its best. Harry aches to touch him, feel the stubble that, yet again, left rashes on his pale, sensitive bum and thighs—serving as a reminder just how sensational Louis Tomlinson truly is.

"Made you breakfast, Lou. Heard pancakes with the side of eggs and sausages are your favorites..."

"Ooh," Louis muses in excitement, chuckling lightly. He sits up slowly after a while, and Harry immediately busies himself bringing the trays over to the bed, placing each in between himself and Louis, laying the food down. "This is so lovely, Haz," is what Louis says as he takes his first bite out of three layers of pancake, chewing happily. "I didn't know you can cook! I'm so used to French and Italian cuisines, but this," Louis stops to take another large bite out of a sausage with a piece of egg, before finishing his sentence with a mouthful, "this is good."

Seeing the bright smile painting Louis' lips as he eats, Harry can't help smile to himself as well as he looks down on his own food-full of plate, mentally patting his head in victory at his success of having Louis' clear as day stamp of approval at his cooking skills. He thinks perhaps he'll cook for Louis more in the future... like, just to see that wonderful, handsome smile again. Especially the part where Louis' eyes are crinkling at the sides, cheeks dented with hints of dimples and pinks. And Harry never even knew Louis has dimples. That's news. Amazing news.

After they're done eating, Louis sets their trays aside and pulls Harry back in bed with him, nuzzling his face against Harry's exposed collarbone. "Glad you loved the breakfast I cooked, Lou."

"Mhmm," Louis hums in affirmation, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on Harry's throat. "Was so good, baby. I'm impressed."

"Valeria helped me a bit. She's a very nice woman," Harry says softly.

"She is, she is. Been working under me since my twenties."

"Really?" Harry drawls, grinning down at Louis because of the new information, imagination kicking in as he thinks about a young version of Louis, already posh and oh so lovely with less wrinkles and brisk skin, fringe softer and probably always kept lying against his forehead, being served by a French younger Valeria, early discovery of his talent in painting on the works. And then there's the thought of a younger Louis in French style clothing next, suspenders and tight trousers hugging his thighs and legs probably, flat vintage shoes with his ankles out, beret or potato type of hats atop his head, long and thick black eyelashes cascading shadows over the hollows of his prominent cheekbones. And damn—damn if Harry's not so fond of him; damn if Harry's not so drawn in his daydream he actually forgets just how he's literally holding the older version of the same Louis he's imagining inside his head.

Harry's just...he just really feels blessed to have met Louis amidst his laid back lifestyle.

He can still remember how things had went for him before all these. He used to sleep with different men each night, going home with them after a night spent working at VR, and then leaving first thing in the morning with not so much as a greeting, credits left unspoken despite a previously good hell of a fuck.

It's different with Louis though; it's a whole different story when it comes to the old Frenchman, it seems. This one, Harry actually enjoys spending time with, has so much fun with, has several laughing moments with. Harry never did that to any man he'd ever let either fuck or touch him from the past. Just Louis. And it's only Louis, too, that he's ever confessed how he wishes he could just forget his job and fly to New York next, make rounds in Coney Island, build a house near there and then spend the rest of his life visiting back and forth and spend time making memories at the Boardwalk.

Call Harry a child, call Harry juvenile, but it's what he's always wanted. Living nearby Coney Island will always be in his Bucket List, and he'll always be proud of that optimum. There are many things Harry likes. One of which being dressed up. And then there's the freedom of wearing lipstick, wearing head scarves, wearing earrings, prancing gracefully, having his hair grown freely, singing songs for men, painting his nails various colors and all that...

But there are more things Harry wants done, and if only he can go to Coney Island...

"You look perfect in my clothes, sweetheart, maybe I should let you wear them all the time," Louis suddenly tells Harry, breaking him from his heavy thinking.

Harry smiles down at Louis' grinning facial expression in a lieu of compensating, fireworks exploding for the first time ever since they looked at each other this close and this serene; Louis looks like the sun, Harry decides, and Harry is the moon. Louis' moon. The one running after him, but not being given a chance by the universe itself anyway. It's gonna be exhausting, it's the inevitable, but Harry the moon will do anything just to get to Louis the sun in any way he can either way, so there really is no point of discussion.

"Well, I love being in your clothes. They smell just like you. Makes me feel safe wearing them," Harry tells Louis honestly.

Louis laughs lightly, tapping Harry's chin. "I am glad, baby doll," he says, voice a bit groggy. Harry leans in and captures Louis' lips, closing his eyes at the instant bliss it gives, sucking at the man's bottom lip much longer, before letting go of it with a flourish. "Say, what do you feel about going out of town, Harry?"

Harry opens his eyes. "Mmhm, where to?"

Wiggling his eyebrows, Louis grins widely. "You know... to the city that never sleeps? I am not working for a week, so I thought maybe... you might want to ask that boss of yours for a leave of absence, so—"

"Yes!" Harry squeals, not even letting Louis finish his sentence, excitement bursting through his veins. He's so excited about going he has just lost all traces of finesse. "Yes, yes, yes, Louis! Oh, my God!"

Laughing, Louis flips them over and Harry goes along with it, laughing too. And then they're rolling uncontrollably as they hug each other, both of them ending up lying on the floor. Harry hurriedly scrambles up to his feet just as he's recovered from his excitement, straddling Louis' hips and leaning down to snog him senseless. Harry feels so ecstatic he's afraid he might just burst from it.

[calucadu]

Love Bites - Chapter 1

Love Bites, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Fanfic. Chapter 1 - Desire to bite.

Summary: In which Bakugou “does Midoriya a favour” and bites his neck, claiming him to be his mate for life. But this is still a Kiribaku/Bakushima fic. Omegaverse.

Pairings: Bakugou/Kirishima, Bakugou/Midoriya

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku, Sero Hanta, Mina Ashido, Kaminari Denki

Rating: Explicit

First chapter // Next chapter

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It had been two years since Katsuki had claimed Deku. The omega had gotten better. So much better that Bakugou was almost regretting having ever bitten him. The little shit had not only been accepted into UA, but he was also in his class. He wore a collar, specially designed to make sure no alpha claimed him, even if he’d already been claimed by the best alpha there was.

Izuku was strangely screwed up for life. He’d have to live with the fact that no other alpha could touch him if it wasn’t Bakugou, but if Katsuki hadn’t done what he’d done when he’d done it, Midoriya wouldn’t have been able to get into UA, to follow his dream. So, even if he couldn’t mate with another alpha, and even if his love life was now totally ruined for everyone else, Deku owed everything to Bakugou. And Katuski loved it.

Luckily, Midoriya took his medicine diligently and Bakugou never felt the pull of his heat call him in. He was sure he’d make himself physically sick if he were to ever touch that omega in any type of sexual context.

He’d always been a strange alpha when it came to omegas. All his life, Katsuki had felt that omegas wouldn’t do anything to him. He’d never been interested in them, and rarely felt the attraction caused by their pheromones. That’s until he met a certain redheaded someone. Bakugou didn’t want to admit it but he felt things when Kirishima was around.

And it seemed like it was mutual for the omega. Which made everything very easy. Katsuki started slow. He scented the other and was even bold enough to mark him with his own scent in front of his friends. Eijirou had almost lost it and had reacted extremely well to the touches, his excitement showing in his trousers as he gasped, moaning about how Bakugou was really manly.

And Kirishima wasn’t even a normal omega, which definitely pleased Bakugou. He was strong and determined, like he’d been made for him. He respected Katsuki but took no shit from him, which was incredibly admirable.

It was more complicated than a simple crush, the blond noted. It was more of needing him around to feel safe, to feel well. The scent Kirishima radiated made him feel better, soothed his troubled soul and his wrinkled brow. And he was sure he had a similar effect on the omega.

It turned out it wasn’t as easy as Bakugou had anticipated. Mainly because he was prideful and didn’t know how to deal with his feelings or use words to express things he thought were obvious. But Kirishima was still always by his side, even when they didn’t go past slight teasing and rubbing their scent over the other. It was still a good way to claim him, Katsuki tried to reason with himself.

And then he’d gone and got himself kidnapped, and when he was close to losing hope, Eijirou’s hand was in the sky, waiting only for the perfect grip that would match his. Bakugou didn’t want to admit he’d been saved, but he had. And thanks to that incident, things got a little weird. They held hands now, and it wasn’t strange at all for them to go places together, their hands intertwined.

Sero, a measly beta, was the first one to get tired of it out of the Bakusquad, which come as a surprise to Katsuki. He was sure the first one to voice his awkwardness would have been Pikachu, given the amount of glares he sent their way every day.

“Well, are you official or not?” Plain Face whined after watching them go hand in hand to the cafeteria.

Baugou just answered with a low growl, which was a warning to stay away from the subject.

“I wanna know too!” Mina shrieked, shoving herself in between Katsuki and Kirishima, breaking their hands apart. She was an alpha, too, which obviously didn’t sit well with the explosive blond. She was far too close to something that wasn’t technically his but had been made to be, sooner or later.

Eijirou blushed, almost the colour of his hair. Bakugou didn’t fail to notice how his lips quivered as he tried to come up with an answer. His stupid heart was pounding with emotions he was better off without, thank you very much.

“I don’t know, Bakugou, are we?” Kirishima almost whispered, his voice low. The blond frowned, his eyes narrowing. Was this some sort of game? A test? Was he supposed to just say they were? Maybe it was an alpha thirst that the omega had and he had to prove it. But he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Whatever.” He growled, as if that was answer enough, and he left, hoping no one had noticed the panic in his voice.

A few steps ahead he was met with Eijirou’s hand in his and they shared a warm look that could only mean one thing.

It had happened by accident. They were studying in Bakugou’s room and Kirishima was squirming around in his chair, looking uncomfortable. His smell was stronger than usual and Katsuki couldn’t help himself, having caught himself leaning in towards the omega, getting closer to his neck than he should be.

Dangerous.

But good.

So good.

Eijirou moved suddenly. Like a twitch. And with the sudden spasm of his body, he let out a moan. One that resonated inside of the alpha, snapping him away from reality. His senses sharpened immediately and he could tell the other boy was hard and leaking.

Was this the effect Bakugou had on Kirishima? Or was the omega simply close to his heat? It didn’t matter, Katsuki had to do something, anything, to get him out of those clothes and into his bed.

A closer look at the redhead disclosed that he was panting, his breathing troubled, his mouth open to facilitate the intake of air. His face was nearly the colour of his hair and he was emanating such a sweet smell and a lot of warmth.

The image alone was enough to push the blonde over the edge, and, resting his hands on either side of the other’s cheeks, he dove into a kiss.

As their lips crashed together, he felt something he’d never felt before. Sure, he hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he was sure this wasn’t just a regular kiss. He was sure this went beyond, that this topped everything. The omega’s mouth fitted so perfectly into his he was sure he’d been created surely to make him happy. His sharp teeth prodded at his lips and Bakugou let out a moan before opening his entrance and letting Kirishima’s tongue inside of him.

It hadn’t crossed Katsuki’s mind that not only was Eijirou going along with it, but he was also very keen, initiating the movements himself.

Fuck, he’d found the perfect omega.

He didn’t need one of those wishy-washy, submissive little shits. He didn’t want that. He wanted a strong partner, strong in mind and in will, capable of doing things for themselves, not afraid of going against Bakugou if they had to.

And Kirishima was the one.

He’d gone as far as to save him, what more proof did he need to know this omega was his soul mate.

His fated pair.

Katsuki just had to sink his teeth in and make sure the rest of the world knew that this one was his.

The redhead was not afraid of him, unlike everyone else. He wasn’t afraid of telling Bakugou what he was doing wrong or telling him what he wanted. And Katsuki really admired that. He pretended he hated it, but it sat well with him on a level he couldn’t understand.

The fact that he’d found an omega to match him made him feel different.

Special.

And they were sharing such an intimate kiss that he was melting into his cute omega. He couldn’t let him go, not now, not ever.

The tongue in his mouth grew bolder and Bakugou felt hands on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer.

He had initiative and was willing to do things to get what he wanted. And right now it seemed that what Kirishima wanted was Katuski. And the blond would kill to give him everything he desired.

He led him to his bed and gently pulled him onto it, not wasting time on pressing himself against him.

Finally they’d gotten somewhere, and it was Heaven. The omega beneath him was panting and moaning, his little touches were like fire, but in a good kind of way. In a way he now knew he couldn’t live without.

His kisses were dangerous but good. His sharp teeth posed a threat he was all too glad to assume and he let Kirishima nibble on his sensitive lips, maybe even let him draw blood. In all honesty it felt too good to stop, the heat increasing between them.

Bakugou felt the omega rut against him, his clothed cock hungrily searching for pleasure, blindly following instincts. Oh god. The blond almost felt his brain melt. It was all nearly too much. The smell the other was emanating, which he was rubbing all over the alpha, to make sure other omegas knew who this one belonged to, plus his sharp teeth marking his skin, leaving bite marks and blood as his lips travelled Katsuki’s neck were all making the blond feel elated, like never before.

It was time the alpha took over and he pressed his mouth against the redhead’s neck, forcing the other to throw his head back, gasps and moans spilling out of his cute lips, his whole body thrashing with the urge to keep Bakugou’s head pressed against him. He acted on the impulse, burying his hands in blond hair, hardening them slightly as he pressed on the locks, forcing them down. The male hissed at the feeling, but was secretly loving it.

And all the while they’d been playing this pseudo dominating game, their cocks had been rubbing tightly against each other, their trousers interfering with their pleasure, the smell leaking from Kirishima’s tip enough to make Katsuki’s head spin. He smelt so good, so edible, so fuckable. Which was exactly what the blond was planning. He wanted to dig his fingers up the other’s arse and leave them there, make sure everyone knew he was not available to mate anyone else. Because he was Bakugou Katsuki’s precious omega and fuck anyone else who decided to lay eyes on him.

Maybe he should do something about it.

Maybe he should claim what was rightfully his.

He licked the neck, covering as much skin in saliva as he could, trying to assess where the bite mark would look better. He wanted somewhere visible, and maybe he’d bite more than once, make sure the message was well received by everyone who glanced at Kirishima’s neck. Bakugou Katsuki’s. Don’t touch. Don’t look. Leaving a lot of angry red marks would definitely make everyone know who the alpha behind the damage was.

And Kirishima could leave one on his skin as well. Those scary shark teeth of his would definitely be good at marking, at showing the world that he had his mate and his choice had been made.

More licking, followed by slowly inhaling the deep, rich scent that was so obviously Kirishima. It was making him roll his eyes back in pleasure, goose bumps appearing all over his body, and small shivers nearly making him loose his concentration.

A new scent filled his nose as he realised that being this close to being mated was making Eijirou wet. The image in his brain made his heart skip a beat. He had such an influence over the omega he could hardly believe it.

Bakugou needed to make sure his realizations were true and he quickly stuffed his hand into the other’s underwear, pulling them down slightly. His fingers started tracing soft, warm skin as they searched for his entrance. Finding the slick hole nearly made Katsuki cum in his pants. With the boxers down he could now properly smell the divine liquid oozing out of the omega and it was making him want to knot him very, very badly.

The boy underneath him was obviously enjoying himself as the blond toyed with his entrance. He was slowly rubbing a finger over the ring of muscle and that was enough to make Kirishima groan and moan.

It made Bakugou want to bite him.

Claim him.

Take him.

Make him his.

No one else could hear him like this.

No one could see him like this.

No one should smell him.

He had to be his.

His.

Forever.

Katsuki’s mouth was back on his neck and his teeth pressed lightly against the skin, applying mock bites as he stuck a finger into Kirishima.

A long whine came from the redhead, which made the alpha want to claim him with more force. He’d never felt this before, never understood all the things he’d been told about normal alpha behaviour, but it all suddenly made sense.

This omega had to be his. He had to make him his or he would regret it eternally. He opened his mouth wider, preparing himself for the claiming bite as he stuffed his finger in to the second knuckle.

“Uh… I don’t know if you should bite me, Bakugou.” Kirishima panted underneath him. The blond had been so engrossed in his fantasy that the voice of the other shook him slightly, but wasn’t enough to ease him out of his dream-like state.

“Hmmmmnn, why not?” He hummed, barely noticing what was said between them.

“I mean, I really like you, but I think it’s kinda early and it’s a big deal and…”

“S’not a big deal, though.” Katsuki was pressing his tongue against the redhead’s jawline, moving his finger in deeper into the omega’s arse, which forced a loud moan from the other.

“What do you mean, it’s not a big deal, it’s forever, you know!?” The blond could feel Kirishima’s discomfort in between his pants and groans. He could tell he was uneasy and something inside of him warned him to calm him down. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, however, and he was finding it hard to think. Whatever could he say to make it better?

“I’ve done it before, it’s easy.” He managed to say, opening his mouth wide and pressing his teeth against soft skin, gleaming thanks to the amount of saliva he’d added. He couldn’t continue what he was about to do since he noticed Eijirou tense underneath him and he registered what he’d said. He pulled out of him, noticing the change in the omega.

“You’ve done it before!?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Bakugou’s mind raced, hoping there was something he could do to save the moment. He felt hardened hands push him away from the neck he’d been trying to dig his teeth into, and suddenly the situation was more real than before. He’d been brought back down abruptly, and he knew he was in a very delicate situation.

“You’ve bitten an omega, Bakugou? You’ve claimed someone? You are someone’s mate?”

All the things he was saying were true but Katsuki didn’t want to admit them. It wasn’t what it seemed and he had to make it right somehow.

“Yes, but…”

“So you’re someone else’s alpha?”

“Yeah but no, look…”

“There’s another omega? There’s someone fucking else? I knew this couldn’t be true! I knew this was too good for me! I knew something would happen!”

“Can you listen to me?” Bakugou was close to loosing his cool, to boiling over.

“You’ve got a pair!?”

“It was just a bite, Kirishima. It meant nothing!”

“AND YOU WERE GOING TO DO IT TO ME TOO! AND IT WOULD MEAN NOTHING AGAIN!”

“No! It’s not what you think!”

“HOW IS IT NOT WHAT I THINK? YOU MARKED ANOTHER OMEGA. YOU CLAIMED SOMEONE ELSE AND YOU WANTED TO DO THE SAME TO ME!”

“Kirishima, It’s-”

“WHAT? IT’S WHAT? What are you going to say exactly? You bit Midoriya when you were small when you were playing alphas and omegas and you think it meant nothing!? Because news flash for you, Bakugou, that still fucking counts!”

Katsuki stayed quiet, dumbfounded. He’d heard of cases like that, were kids screwed each other over by playing adult and biting other’s necks. It fucked kids over completely. Some entered premature heats, others ended up, strangely enough, infertile for life. They all paired, except if they’d been bitten or had bitten betas, and had had to live with the consequences of their actions.

Kirishima understood what the silence meant completely.

“You…bit… Midoriya. That’s why he’s so… different. You… claimed him… He’s your omega!”

Well, they weren’t lies, but they weren’t truths either, but Bakugou could feel the pain in the redhead’s voice as he spoke.

The blond sighed, getting ready to start telling the story which he was so ashamed about. Yeah, he’d been smug about it up until now, but now, now he just felt bad. He felt like he’d screwed over more than just Midoriya.

He’d screwed himself up.

He’d fucked up whatever he had with Kirishima. And if he wasn’t careful, he’d fuck Kirishima up too.

“I can’t believe you!” Eijirou spat at him, his face contorting in disgust. His eyes were oozing hatred and betrayal and he was shacking as he was trying to get the alpha off of him. Bakugou tried to stop him from doing so but he eventually decided that struggling with him would make matters worse.

So he let the omega push him away and watched as the redhead left his room without even trying to dress himself properly.

How was Katsuki going to get himself out of this one?

It didn’t help that the Bakusquad prevented Bakugou from actually interacting with Kirishima. At least they didn’t seem to know what was going on, but they knew the omega was upset with him.

He’d tried to talk to him in class, but Sero got in his way and smirked at him while pointing at his elbows. Bakugou got the message.

He tried to get close to him at the canteen but Kaminari threatened to electrify his water and while the threat in itself wasn’t a big deal and the beta didn’t frighten him in the slightest, he could see Kirishima watching, and he was not in a position to scare the omega away further. So instead of getting angry he just walked away.

He tried to get into his dorm but Mina opened the door to Eijirou’s room and just shook her head before closing it in his face.

But Bakugou was prepared to fight acid, tape and electricity if it got Kirishima to listen to him.

Kirishima was trembling in his bed. He’d managed to stop the tears from flowing for a day now and his friends had been extremely supportive. None of them knew what was going on, and even if they did, they wouldn’t understand. Betas had it easy, they didn’t have to deal with mated pairs and shit like that. And Mina was an alpha, but the omega couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t immediately back Bakugou up, taking his side.

He wasn’t exactly alone but he felt very lonely. Like no one could understand him. The idea that maybe Midoriya did crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to think about him. Whenever he did he just imagined Katsuki balls deep into another omega, one who was more of an omega than him. One who was soft and warm, and nice and brave, and confident, and smart and everything any alpha would ever want.

It wasn’t just jealousy. It wasn’t just that Bakugou had chosen what nature intended him to choose. There was hurt, since he’d been interested in him. He’d been stringing him along, making him believe he was wanted by alphas. And not just any alpha, but the best in class. But no, he’d been lied to, used. He was mated to an actual, real omega. Not one that was just a miserable mess, not strong enough to even get over his own past.

Fuck, it hurt. Kirishima hadn’t expected rejection to hurt so much. But then again, it wasn’t just rejection. It was self-doubt and jealousy, and a little bit of heart break.

He’d had a crush on Bakugou for so long and now all he could do about it was cry! And he still had so many things he wasn’t sure about. When had Midoriya been claimed? Was it before Katsuki met him?

A small ray of hope opened up for Kirishima. Maybe the blond hadn’t been lying. Maybe he’d regretted pairing up with Izuku. He didn’t seem to like him at all and didn’t even interact with him aside from snarling and looking down at him.

But maybe it was an act.

Maybe they had agreed to keep it like that, to pretend. Or maybe it went beyond that, maybe it was some kind of roleplay that got Bakugou off. Or maybe he was just into hate-sex so he had to claim someone he really despised?

And maybe they’d been fucking for months, every time Midoriya got his heat. None of them were absent during his heats, and Kirishima hated how he hadn’t noticed before. Of course there was a reason Izuku the omega wasn’t suffering during his heat week. Because he’d been claimed. Nature knew he had a partner, and only his alpha would be affected by his pheromones.

Eijirou, instead, along with all the unmated omegas, had to stay in his room every time his heat came. That or it could end up disastrously for them.

Kirishima cursed himself. Cursed his luck. Cursed how oblivious he’d been. Cursed how he still felt that Bakugou was the one for him.

Of course they’d been going too fast. Maybe that was Katsuki’s intention from the beginning. Maybe he was one of those omega hoarders. He needed to claim as many omegas as he could to feel superior. Kirishima was a lot of things, but he wasn’t just an omega that would be used to be claimed uselessly. Maybe Midoriya might have let him do whatever he wanted with him, but he wasn’t about to let Bakugou do as he pleased.

The redhead bit hard, his sharp teeth clenching tightly as new tears fell down his face. A new determination swept him away from his misery and forced him to look ahead, unashamed.

Bakugou could be the biggest shit he wanted to be, but he would never fuck with Kirishima.

The omega hardened his body as he let out a frustrated whine, throwing his head back. These pathetic feelings he had for the disgusting alpha could not last. Would not last.

Eijirou raised his head and decided he loathed Bakugou Katsuki.

[frostiifae]

Unpopular Opinion: Kozaki Yusuke is a hack and his art direction set the franchise back by a decade; Fire Emblem wasn't an 'anime' series in the colloquial sense before him.

now this is a goddamn ask. this is an ask I actually had to like, think about. 

There are two primary parts to this. One is that Yusuke is a hack and his art direction is awful. I will agree with that. Character designs in Awakening and (especially) Fates vary between bland and grotesque, with only a few exceptions that really stand out and are memorable. There are a few designs that I actually genuinely really like – but Overly Horny details hamper their quality overall and force us to remember that the game as a whole has stopped caring about artistic integrity and worldbuilding and instead just wants you to thirst over the characters as much as possible, so it’s hard to really appreciate even the designs that actually look pretty cool. 

The other part is that Fire Emblem has become an “anime” series because of his influence. I actually don’t agree, but I think that’s in part because I don’t quite know what you mean. Fire Emblem has always been an anime game series to me. (Disclaimer, I started with Awakening, so my perception here may have been flawed.) In terms of visual style, at least since FE6, the anime influence has always been there. There’s even that good old DBZ bullshit that was FE6-8 crit animations, which I am a huge sucker for. I actually like this aspect of Fire Emblem, and I don’t mind seeing it pushed further. 

As far as what changed about Awakening and Fates tonally that made it worse than previous entries - it became more “dating-sim”-esque, certainly, and it fetishizes its characters in a number of uncomfortable ways (But That’s A Whole Other Can Of Worms), and the character art definitely shifted in an attempt to make every character fuckable as an extension of this change. I guess you could say that this is more “anime”, in the sense that Fire Emblem now resembles a gigantic harem anime with fantasy themes, but I don’t think it’s right to say that becoming more anime is the problem. Turning the entire game into a gigantic shipping grid, complete with weird confession scenes and kissy sequences and whatever the fuck reason y’all nasty fuckers put a hot tub in the base in Fates, that’s the problem. 

[monsterrates]

Vlad III (Fate/Apocrypha)

It’s Sunday night and I am very Tired, so one more review I don’t have to research for and I’ll get back to filling requests on Monday. Those of you not familiar with Fate/Apocrypha’s rendition of Vlad the Impaler, Buckle Up, because there’s some fucking Discussion to be had.

INTRODUCTION: This monster is the spirit of Vlad Tepes, summoned into the “Lancer” class, (Or “Berserker” class in Grand Order) based on his legendary intimidation technique of impaling defeated enemies heads on spikes.

PROS: ♥ I’ll get to the actual monster qualifications in a moment, but as far as vampires go, Vlad really is rocking some pale skin and the pale blond hair with dark shadows around his eyes really ties the whole look of “what the fuck is the sun” together. I’m actually not sure if he even has that weakness but he may as well. ♥ Now, the real Vlad was inarguably a harsh ruler, but most modern Romanian historians consider him a great ruler, whose cruel acts were often done for the sake of the country. He definitely wasn’t a vampire, and the fact that this fictionalization of him hates how his spirit has become tied to that myth is honestly super interesting and Fate/ should work more with the idea that some servant may feel weird about the myths about them, since it influences how they’re summoned. (Even though this openly contradicts other lore, whatever, this series is a clusterfuck anyway) So, rather than being some Dracula stereotype, Vlad is actually a wise leader with a good mind for tactics and a talent for sewing, apparently. (He allegedly made Elizabeth Bathory’s Halloween costume. Fans took to calling him “Uncle Vlad” in response.) In Apocrypha specifically, Vlad very much prefers to stick with his actual exploits as the Prince of Wallachia. I’ll leave off with this image of him ripping Bram Stoker’s Dracula in half.

♥ That said, if this entry is to continue, we need to talk about the stuff that qualifies him to be on this blog. That is to say, his Noble Phantasm, “Legend of Dracula,” seen above. Invoking this legend causes Vlad to transform into this.... well, bat man. To be honest, I’m actually not as big on fangs as I am a whole mouth of sharp teeth, but they ARE still sharp teeth, and I appreciate that it’s the bottom canines as well as the tops. ♥ The.... the ears.... they aren’t cool at all but I fucking love them because it really is what makes him look like a bat. Or maybe a WoW character. Either is fine. ♥ He SEEMED to get REALL BIG when this happened which is honestly the best part about this form. He just got real big and fluttery, I’m honestly not sure if he even had wings because he was mostly just this cartoonish face, a mass of swishy blackness, and blood splatter. Which is honestly pretty good and I can’t complain. ♥ Vlad assuming this form not only gave me the very Father/Son interraction of Chiron knocking Achilles out of danger and Achilles being ungrateful about it, but also Shirou’s use of Baptism Rite, and I am honestly a sucker for Fate/’s long form incantations. They are a bunch of nonsense but they always sound so cool. ♥ The fact that Vampire Vlad’s attacks seem to make blood spurt everywhere seems functionally impractical, but aesthetically it’s much better than NOT doing that. Uncle Vlad is a fashionable guy, he clearly knows what’s up.

CONS: ♥ As is becoming tradition, I’ll lead off noting that his USUAL form isn’t monstery at all, but honestly, this is a time I’m glad for it, because his vampire form is Very Silly looking, honestly. ♥ I’m all for fully red eyes, but like, with at least pupils intact. Glowing red eyes like this lose a lot of expression, and I can’t love him properly if I can’t feel his feelings. Another point against Vampire Vlad ♥ Staying vague for spoilers reasons, Darnic is heavily involved in the invoking of vampire Vlad, and he is a terrible bad man who works with Nazis, so I refuse to condone anything he does. Especially because, as I said, Vlad HATES this noble phantasm and had to be forced to use it. ♥ They changed his class to Berserker in Grand Order but didn’t change his design or personality, so now everything is just confusing. I suspect it was done to make him more differentiated from the Vlad III in Fate/Extra, but given that that one’s more overtly vampiric and rowdy, why couldn’t he have been Berserker? Uncle Vlad’s the one HOLDING A LANCE IN HIS SPRITE. ♥ Apocrypha anime had the audacity to show me this image and I almost died at the jarring juxtaposition of the actual clothes Vlad would have worn and his stupid anime bullshit design

RATINGS: MONSTRUOUSNESS: 2/10 Even with his batlike vampire design, it’s just not that monstery. But that’s just fine, he’d be happier with a low score.

FUCKABILITY: 7/10 Uncle Vlad may actually be the most fuckable of the older gentlemen in Grand Order. Shinjuku Archer is handsomer, but he is a bastard, whereas Uncle Vlad might knit you a nice sweater. (Disclaimer: I adore Shinjuku Archer, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a bastard.)

PERSONAL RATING: 8.5/10 He may not be great at being a monster, but he’s by far the most interesting take on “Dracula” that I’ve seen. I am always a big fan of the way that Fate/ takes a lot of villains/monsters of history and looks at them through a more empathetic lens. (See also: Asterios, Medusa, and Elizabeth Bathory who, watch this space for HER review.)

[my-dear-hammy]

Basking in Firelight-Jamilton Sequel-Part Fifty Three

Masterpost

Part Fifty-Three: Breakfast

Jefferson woke up at a godawful hour early the next morning, his arms still wrapped around Hamilton like he was subconsciously afraid he would disappear in the middle of the night. Which made absolutely no sense to Jefferson. Why was he afraid of that? He nuzzled Hamilton's neck, tightening his hold slightly.

Hamilton slowly woke up, mumbling and complaining about how Jefferson's hair tickled and that his beard was scratchy. When Jefferson finally deemed Hamilton was conscious enough, he softly spoke, "Alexander, I've got take off before someone walks in to wake us up for work."

Hamilton nodded and rolled to the side of the bed, out of Jefferson's reach. "Go on then." Jefferson threw off the blankets and stood, stretching all his muscles when Hamilton suddenly shot up. "Dear God, do you think anyone heard us?"

Jefferson smirked, "Do you really doubt my architect skills so much? I designed both of our rooms to be sound proof so no one could us screaming ourselves awake from nightmares. And the Candlelight Room is underground and soundproofed as well. I wasn't really thinking it'd be used for that but more for instruments. I didn't want our music to wake the whole Manor at three o'clock in the morning, no one can hear anything down there either. There are a couple of rooms that have sound proofing as well for various reasons. The only thing that we need to worry about is if someone comes looking for us in the middle of the night."

Hamilton sat back in relief, "You know, it's like you almost planned to have secret sexual adventures in the middle of the night. It's all too convenient."

"I had no such thoughts," Jefferson declared, scooping up his clothes from the laundry. It'd be suspicious if Jefferson's clothes were mixed with Hamilton's, they had very identifiable styles. "I'm completely innocent. Excuse me for being considerate to other people who don't want to hear your horrible cello skills."

"Excuse me? Horrible?" Hamilton scoffed, "You just ravaged me over those horrible cello skills."

Jefferson smirked, pulling on his shirt, "And I'd do it again."

Hamilton threw a pillow at him, "Get out and go to your own bed."

Jefferson laughed as he pushed open the wall and fled into the office, closing the door behind him. Instead of going to his room like he had planned, he went down to the kitchen instead. There was no point in going back to sleep since he felt so awake. Amazing how a restful sleep could do that to you, even if it's a short one. He set about making a fresh pot of coffee to take back to his office.

A couple hours later, Madison walked into Jefferson's room to wake him up for the day. It technically wasn't his job, it wasn't anyone's job, but Jefferson had a tendency to try and milk a couple hours of rest. So Madison usually woke him up with a cup of coffee and the newest stack of papers. Only this time, Jefferson's bed was empty and still made. Madison went directly to the office and pushed open the door. Yup, there he was, same clothes as yesterday, tirelessly working away, an empty coffeepot beside him. He must've not have been able to sleep again. That was common. Madison often found him like this, except he usually looked more tired. Madison set down the coffee in front of him, followed by the this of the stack of papers and began to list off his report. Jefferson nodded along as he starting sorting through the stack Madison just plopped down in front of him. Madison then said his goodbyes and went to attend to his own matters. Just like every day.

Burr shuffled in about half an hour later, another fresh cup of coffee in hand and another stack of documents and proceeded to go through the same routine. He swiped up the empty mug that Madison had brought him and whatever finished pile of paperwork he had, said his farewell, and left. Just like every other day. Honestly, Burr hated it. It felt kinda like he was an errand boy. Sure, he was the head of another part of government in a different branch, but it was mostly to just break ties in votes and make sure no one killed each other. It was rather boring. Adams and he agreed that it was the most useless job of the entire government. He usually just brought in some paperwork or a book. Nothing seemed to happen.

Angelica made Hamilton make his own coffee. The first couple of days he asked for some it was fine. Those days they didn't have a thing to do yet. But now she ran around trying to keep everything straight and the fact that Hamilton went through a cup every five minutes didn't help. She didn't have time for it. So one day she plopped a coffee machine down on his desk, right next to the latest stack of papers and told him he could make his own damn coffee.

He didn't argue.

Adams and Hamilton had a much different relationship. At first, they got along fine, but Hamilton could remember with perfect clarity who he and Adams got along in their past lives, so the guy just rubbed Hamilton the wrong way. So now, Adams walked in, dropped the papers on his desk, said the shortest version of his report that he could, and then left without another word. Angelica, Madison, and Burr usually stuck around for a minute or two to have a conversation, but Adams didn't. He went straight off to his other work.

Honestly, everyone's schedule was a bit messed up. Jefferson and Hamilton almost never slept, Madison tended to work in short bursts, early morning, extremely late morning, afternoon, evening, and midnight were the typical times he was up and about. Burr preferred late morning to late night. Adams had the normal early riser schedule, and Angelica tended to do whatever she wanted. This really messed with the kitchen staff. They'd given up on the traditional, first thing you do is eat and went for, okay, it's eleven, everyone should be up by now, theoretically, let's serve food. So that's why everyone gathered around the table at eleven fifteen to have the first meal of the day. Typically, they discussed politics, but a lot of the time it was like they were normal people again. A bunch of friends all having breakfast together. It was always really nice. Sometimes Lafayette, Laurens, Mulligan, Peggy, Eliza, and Philip would turn up randomly.

Today just happened to be the day they all showed up in one day.

"What's this rumor I hear about you stepping down, Jefferson?" Lafayette asked. Everyone around the entire table froze, some of them with their forks halfway to their mouths. "I take it that rumor is not widely known?"

"You're stepping down?" Angelica asked, shocked. "Why hadn't I heard about this?"

"If anyone should know about this, it should be me," Madison said, "So why don't I know about this?"

"I should also have heard this by now," Burr stated.

"Alexander, did you know?" Eliza asked.

Jefferson picked at his food as Hamilton coughed, wiped his mouth with his napkin, took another bite of food and finally answered, "Ah, yes, I did."

"What?!" Angelica nearly shouted.

Madison was about to say something as well but Hamilton cut him off, "He just told me last night. He'd been pondering it and finally made up his mind and hadn't gotten the chance to tell any of you yet," he defended quickly.

That seemed to settle them down slightly. "Lafayette, where did you even hear that rumor?" Jefferson asked.

"Oh, it was mixed in with all the rumors about you and Hamilton fucking each other," Laurens answered for him.

Jefferson nearly choked on his food. Nearly. Adams, however, did, "What?!" he exclaimed.

"Relax, those rumors have been going around the moment we stepped into the presidency, maybe even before," Hamilton replied calmly.

"Well, they need to be silenced!" Adams declared.

"Why?" Jefferson asked.

"It's improper!" Adams' face turned slightly red.

"So what? The people are free to think and speculate what they want. I don't care either way. They could say I'm fucking George William Frederick Hanover III and wouldn't give a damn," Jefferson said, taking a bite of food.

Adams face reddened even more as Hamilton carried off on what Jefferson said, "I'd have to disagree with you there Thomas, there's no way I could possibly let someone say that. George III is by far the least fuckable person I've ever met. I can't have my name tarnished in such a way.  Honestly,  I'd hope the people would have better expectations of their president than thinking I'd fuck George. I'd have to at least defend my honor. Publish a pamphlet, issue a duel perhaps."

Everyone laughed except for Adams was growing redder by the second.  "I don't know, Alex," Lauren's said around a mouthful of food, "George is pretty cute."

"But his personality is so off-putting," Lafayette sighed. "I went to his house once. Didn't speak English yet, I couldn't understand a word they were saying and I know they could speak French if they wanted to. I left in a very rude manner."

"You've been to his house?" Mulligan asked.

Lafayette shrugged, "When you're a rich, French nobleman you tend to get invited places."

"You know who would make a good match for him?" Jefferson said suddenly, "Seabury."

"Oh my God, yes!" Peggy squealed.

"THE IMPROPRIETY!!!" Adam's finally exploded.

"Dear Lord," Jefferson drawled, "Adam's, have you been a Homophobe this whole time?"

"My God, you poor soul, you're in a room of almost entirely gay people," Lauren's said.

"I have no sympathy," Madison said flatly.

"You know what?" Jefferson cut in, "I change my mind. George and Adam's would make a much better match. They could get over their homophobia together."

Needless to say, Adam's left the room. And probably the building.

Maybe even his office as Vice President.

----

Warnings: homophobia

[crankpendletonplays-blog]

Operation Cobra-Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x reader Description: reader is in love with Jughead. Jughead is with Betty. Warnings: SAD SAD SAD ANGST I’m on my way to the hospital to take my mom and I was feeling this after seeing a spoiler from 1x06 sigh THIS HAS 4,274 WORDS AND IT TOOK ME FOUR DAYS CAN YOU BELIEVE —————————

I watched it happen from the very beginning. I noticed the very first time Jughead looked at her differently, the very first time he blushed when she complimented him, the very first time Jughead showed signs of jealousy when Trevor had asked her out. I watched it all unfold from the very beginning. When Jughead told me he and Betty kissed, I did my best to be the extremely supportive best friend, convincing him to show the pretty blonde he was interested in her. When he did, I helped him plan the entire date out, from where to when, to picking his outfit out for him since he was absolutely helpless when it came to dating. I smoothed out the shoulders of his shirt, fixed his beanie, and sent him on his way.

That night, when he came back to my house to replay all the highlights of his date, he had a smile on his face almost the entire time. It was something I had only seen a handful of times, so even though my heart was breaking, I was still happy that something made him smile this big, even if it wasn’t with me. When Jughead and Betty started dating, I began to slowly lose my best friend. He and Betty were always going together on the “super sleuth” cases, and I was hardly ever invited despite being the graphic designer and editor for The Blue and Gold. It didn’t bother me though, because I figured I would just see Jughead at Pop’s. I was wrong.

Jughead and Betty liked their alone time. They hardly ever invited us to hang out with them, and when we did, the rest of us felt like we were intruding. If I did have any alone time with Jug, his nose was in his phone, texting Betty the whole time. As supportive as I tried to be for the both of them, I was tired of pretending. All I ever did was pretend.

I walked in to the blue and gold after school, the room vacant. Jughead had probably waited for Betty outside of her history class so they could walk together to the newsroom; he used to do that with me all the time. I sighed, sitting down at one of the seats in the room and pulling out my laptop. I set it on the desk and began designing the cover for this week’s newspaper.

Eventually, Jughead and Betty showed up, not even noticing I had been in the room. They were chatting about something, both blushing and bumping each other playfully. I mentally rolled my eyes and kept my nose in my laptop, not wanting to watch them be all lovey-dovey or whatever. A minute passed, which turned in to five, and then ten, and then fifteen, and by this time I was beyond upset. Neither had said a word to me at all.

I finished the designs for the paper and quietly closed my laptop, zipping open my bag and stuffing it in before lifting it over my shoulder. I stood up, my chair emitting a sharp noise as the heel of the object scraped against the old tile floor. Jughead and Betty’s heads turned at the sound, watching me push my chair back in.

“Oh my gosh, y/n! When did you come in?” Betty asked. I know she didn’t mean it in a rude way whatsoever, she was one of my best friends, but it angered me. Deciding to keep my anger bottled in, I acted like I didn’t hear her, making my way towards the door of the classroom. I walked out, making my way down the hall.

“Y/n! Wait!” Jughead called my name, and a hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“What’s wrong?” Jughead inquired, his hand sliding down my arm to go to my wrist. I yanked my body back lightly, looking at him in surprise and disgust.

“What’s wrong?” I repeated, my tone of voice obviously showing signs of outrage at this point. “Jughead, if you don’t know what’s wrong right now, then I guess we aren’t as close as I thought we were.” I turned away from him, walking down the hallway again.

Jughead grabbed my shoulder again, turning me and grabbing my hand. “Don’t say that.” Jughead spoke softly, his jaw clenching.

“Really? Jughead, you did not notice I was in the room for fifteen minutes! You did not become aware of my presence in the slightest! And that isn’t even the first time!” I screamed, shoving him away from me harshly. Jughead stumbled back, frozen in shock by what I had just done.

“You don’t even care about me anymore! I don’t even exist to you!” My fingers dug in to my palms as I yelled at him.

“So yeah, we aren’t as close as I thought we were. In fact, I’ve never been farther apart from you.” I turned, walking away again.

“y/n!" Jughead called my name and I stopped.

"Don’t, Jughead.” I cut him off, turning to face him one more time. “For somebody who claims to be an amazing observer, you sure are pretty damn oblivious.” I walked down the hallway of the empty school, turning a corner and making my way home.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was 5:39 when my phone rang, interrupting me from my moping over Jughead and Betty. I had stayed home from school the past few days, blaming it on how “sick” I had been feeling, which was bullshit, but only I knew it was bullshit. Or so I thought.

“Hey Ronnie.” I answered the phone.” Now’s not a good time- “

“Too fucking bad, princess. Get your ass up, I’m here.” I heard a knock at my door downstairs and Veronica hung up. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me, rubbing at my nose a bit to make it look red and grabbed a box of tissues. I wadded a couple up and threw them in the trash so my fake sick story would still be believable.

I padded downstairs slowly, hearing the incessant knocking and ringing of my doorbell. I took a deep breath before answering the door. There stood one of my best friends, hands on her hips and an irritated look on her face.

“Alright, time to stop moping and start moving on.” The black-haired girl stepped in to my house, closing the door and pointing upstairs.

“Who said I was moping?” I fired back, dragging myself up the stairs.

“Oh, come on y/n! You may be able to fool Archie, Betty, Jughead, and the rest of the entire world, but you can’t fool me. I know you aren’t sick, I know you and Jughead fought, I know you like Jughead. Its written all over you!” Veronica flung open the door to my room and marched to my closet, digging through it like a wild dog.” It’s kinda sick, actually. You look at him with literal heart eyes.Honestly, I would have gone for somebody a little more chiseled, but hey, we all got our own kinks- “

“Ronnie.” I cut off her incessant rambling, “Why are you knee-deep in my clothes?”

“Because, sweetheart.” Ronnie stuck her head out of my closet.” There’s a party tonight, and Jughead and my future wife are going, and we are going to show those two idiots who they really belong with.” Ronnie went back in to my closet, holding up numerous amounts of dresses, skirts, and eye-catching tops.

“Jughead is going to a party?” I queried, unconvinced.

“Yeah, it’s a thing with the cheerleaders at Cheryl’s, an Jughead is going to be the ‘supportive boyfriend’ or whatever.” Veronica scoffed at her own words, adding mocking quotations with her fingers before going back to digging in my closet.

“They’re probably going for more clues about Jason.” I mumbled, my mind drifting away a bit.

“For someone who only wears like, 4 outfits, you sure do have a lot of clothes.” Ronnie commented, pulling out a dress and examining it before hanging it back up.

“My mom tries.” I sighed, flopping back down on the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t. Get your happy ass up and get in the shower. You look terrible, which is weird for me, because you usually look incredibly fuckable.”

“Wow, thanks Ronnie.” I spat back, sarcasm laced in my tone. I got up and grabbed a towel from my drawer, walking in to my bathroom and taking a quick shower. I shaved my legs, as demanded instructed by my friend, and Ronnie did my makeup and hair, curling it and putting it up in a pretty half-do. I admired Ronnie’s work, hardly even being able to connect this me with the person that sat in my bed this morning, dark circles under her eyes and her hair in a knotty bun. She had also found a long sleeved black dress that came down to my knees, tucked away in my closet somewhere

Ronnie had brought over a dress for herself to change in to, and slipped on her shoes. She looked up and our eyes met in the mirror, a distressed look on my face.

“Listen, tonight is for us, okay?” Ronnie rested her hand on my shoulders, turning my chair so I faced her.” I’ve been sitting around and moping too, trust me, but we shouldn’t mope. We deserve so much better, alright? So, let’s just go out and have fun. We deserve that much, alright?” Ronnie held out her hand and I took it, pulling myself up and letting my arms go around her neck to embrace her. We both grabbed our purses and linked arms before walking down the stairs of my house and out my door. -------------------------------------------------------- “Ronnie, I don’t think I can do this.” I stood at the front door of the house, my heart racing.” I really can’t do this.” I turned away from the building, wringing my hands out in front of me.” I’ve been doing it for so long, and I don’t think I can pretend any more, and- “

“Y/n!” Ronnie grabbed my hands, holing them in between hers.” You can do this, ok? You’re y/n freaking l/n!! You are one of the strongest women I know, and you are fierce! You can’t let Jughead, or Betty, or anyone get to you! Don’t let them ruin your moment, ok? Because you are looking hot as hell- “Ronnie lifted one of my hands, twirling me in front of her, and I giggled- “And I’ll be damned if I let you let them mess with that.” I hugged Ronnie tightly before she linked my arm with hers and we walked in to the Blossom mansion.

The music wasn’t too loud, which was a kind gesture for my sensitive ears. Cheryl had already roped together some kids for a game of spin the bottle, and I had spotted Archie, Betty, and Jughead near a corner of the room. Ronnie had already gotten me away from the sight, pulling me to the kitchen. I only grabbed a bottle of sweet tea, ignoring the alcohol that lined the counter. Veronica did as well, unsurprisingly. Veronica was a very old-school classy person. If she did drink, it was usually only one glass, and something very light, as I had found out one night that I had slept over at her house.

“There’s my girls!” Kevin wrapped each arm around Veronica and I’s shoulders. “Operation ‘avoid Jughead and Betty because they’re little whores who have been ignoring us to suck each other’s faces’ has commenced!” I laughed at Kevin, giving him a weird look for the name he had chosen.

“Lets just call it Operation Cobra, you know, for short.” Veronica suggested.The three of us made our way to the middle of the dance floor ignoring our other friends. It was obvious Veronica was laughing and talking at a bit of a higher volume, as well as being extra touchy and flirty to get the attention of our friends. I didn’t so much as glance at Jughead, because I knew that once I did, it was game over, and I would be running home and hiding under my covers. After a little while, I went to find a quiet place in the house, wanting to be alone. Parties weren’t really my thing, so I didn’t understand why I even agreed to go, but to be fair I was having a nice time

I sat on Cheryl’s back porch, my legs swinging off the edge as I looked out at her backyard. The graveyard with all her relatives didn’t really help boost my happiness, but at least I had gotten away from the incessant bass drops the music was giving off.

“Thought you were sick.” I turned my head to see Jughead leaning against the wall, legs and arms both crossed. My heart started beating wildly and I felt a lump in my throat.

“Thought you didn’t like parties.” I retorted, turning my head back around to face away from him.

“Touché.” I felt Jughead’s presence as he sat down next to me, our thighs brushing together. For a couple minutes, I didn’t say anything, scared that if I did I would burst in to tears.

“You look really, uh, nice tonight.” Jughead looked me up and down and I raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, not that you don’t look nice all the time, because you do.” Jughead scratched the back of his neck.” Because you know, you’re really beautiful, but you already know that I think that, because you know, you’re my best friend, and uh… yeah.” Jughead looked away

“You know, I’m not a mind reader.” Jughead chuckled lightly. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I did my best to ignore him, crossing my arms and keeping my gaze away from his.

“Look- “Jughead gulped audibly, hesitating before lifting his hand and resting it on my shoulder.” I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, or what you’re dealing with, but I’m here for you- “

“Really? Are you really “here for me?” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, moving to stand up. I was furious at this point.” Jughead, I have talked to you maybe a handful of times since you and Betty started dating! You have cancelled every single one of our plans since then! Every time we’re together working on the blue and gold, you and Betty hardly even notice I’m in the room! – “

My hands went to my temples as I slowly paced back and forth on the deck of the porch. Jughead now stood in front of me, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans and the other running his hand down his face in a frustrated motion.

“And maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry about it, if you would have at least showed any sort of remorse, but you don’t! You don’t apologize, you don’t even text me in advance to let me know, you keep me sitting at Pop’s for hours, and you never even show up! I don’t even know why I still do it? What’s the point?” I began to walk past him but jughead held his arm out, stopping me from leaving. His hand grabbed my hip, turning me to face him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really am- “

“No you aren’t, Jughead! You aren’t sorry!” I pushed him away from me.” You aren’t sorry! If you were really ‘sorry’, you would have been there for me! You wouldn’t have skipped out on our plans! You wouldn’t have left me waiting all the time! Or you would have at least texted me to tell me you wouldn’t make it! Or even apologize!” I shoved my index finger against his chest, pushing him away from me once more.” But you don’t! You don’t apologize, or even feel any remorse about it, because all you care about is yourself! You don’t care about the consequences of the choices you make, because it doesn’t hurt you!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face as I ended my rant. Jughead had a shocked face on his look, as if he was surprised that I had just stood up for myself. I couldn’t blame him. All I ever did was let people use me as their personal door mat. I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I do care about you, it’s just, I- “

“Save it, Jughead!” I shoved past him, running back in to the house and out the front door. I heard calls from my best friend and turned around to see Veronica and Kevin.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Veronica stood in front of me, blocking me from walking down the path towards the gate to leave Cheryl’s home. Her hands wrapped around my arms, stopping me from moving.” What’s wrong, what happened?”

“What do you think happened, Ronnie?” I spoke loudly, my hands moving wildly in front of me.” Jughead is an idiot! That’s what happened!” Kevin now stood beside Ronnie, and her hands went to my face, wiping away the tears. “I’m in love with a fucking idiot! That’s what happened!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Veronica hugged me tightly.

“He doesn’t care, Ronnie. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he hurt me, or anything. It doesn’t matter.” I moved to look at her again.” Why do I have to be in love with him? It could have been anybody else! Why him?”

“I don’t know, honey, he’s a jerk, I don’t know why he- “Ronnie cut herself off, staring off behind me. I turned around to see Jughead standing ten feet away, arms at his sides and his lips parted slightly.

“Did you say you’re in love with me?” Jughead looked at me with wide eyes, waiting for an answer. I shook my head, diving between Ronnie and Kevin and running towards the gate. Jughead began to follow me, but Kevin and Ronnie held him back, letting me slip away. -------------------------------------------------- I was halfway down the trek to my house when I passed by the Riverdale park. I sighed, steering off the sidewalk and towards the big dome-shaped jungle gym. I was just going to mope at home anyways, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get there.

I dropped my heels to the ground next to me, swinging my purse over my shoulder and climbing up to the top. I sat down in the middle, the solid platform cold against my skin. I didn’t care though. I pulled out my phone, ignoring any notifications I had. I checked Instagram, scrolling through Jughead’s account. I switched over to Betty’s, seeing multiple photos of her and Jughead. I didn’t exactly know why I was forcing myself to look at these, but I was.

I shut my phone off, wrapping my arms around my body. I hadn’t brought a jacket, another thing to beat myself up over. I looked around the park, my eyes eventually catching someone else’s. Jughead.

“What are you doing up there?” Jughead looked up at me, his hands in his pockets.

“I like it up here.” I defended.

“Can you come down?” Jughead asked me.

“No.” I protested.

“Then I’m coming up.” Jughead sighed, beginning to climb the structure. I scrambled to grab my purse, trying to get off as fast as I could, but it was too late. Jughead had climbed up, grabbing the bars on each side of my body and hovering so my lower body was trapped under his. He looked up at me, his chest heaving from climbing up as fast as he could, mixed with the sting of the cold weather. Our breaths could be seen in the winter air, mixing with each other and disappearing. I stared at Jughead, waiting for him to say something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh yeah, hold on. Let me ruin my closest friendship real quick by telling him I have super hardcore feelings for him when he’s dating someone else!” I spat sarcastically.

“Ok, that’s fair.”

“Whatever, Jughead, just let me out.” I started to shuffle under his body, planning to duck under his arm, but he blocked me, climbing farther up. We were now eye level, his face only inches from mine. Jughead stared at me, not saying anything.

“Are you gonna say something?” I asked him, my eyes flickering between his.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jughead admitted. I rolled my eyes, pushing him so I could get out from under him. Apparently, I had pushed too hard, because next thing I knew, the boy lost his balance, stumbling off the bars and falling in to the grass on his back. I gasped, shouting his name before climbing down quickly and jumping off the last few bars.

“Jughead! Are you ok!” Jughead groaned in response, sitting up and rubbing his head. I dropped on to my knees beside him, my shoulders on his hands.

“Peachy.” He answered sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, standing up and brushing the dirt off my dress.

“Whatever, I’m going home- “

“Did you know Veronica liked Betty?” I spun around, looking at Jughead.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Jughead sighed, standing up. “And Veronica told her. Turns out, a big part of the reason Betty was dating me was to try and get over her, and convince herself she wasn’t gay. When Ronnie told her, she broke it off with me.” Jughead chuckled half-heartedly.

“Jug, I’m sorry.” Sympathy was laced in my voice. I stepped back toward him, patting his shoulder with my hand.

“It’s ok, really. I was dating her for kind of the same reason as well.” Jughead looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine.” You see, there’s this girl that I really like, and she’s been my best friend for quite a while.” My breath hitched in my throat, my hand leaving Jughead’s shoulder.” I’ve been kind of a shit friend to her, and I haven’t really been hanging out with her, more like avoiding her. It’s a really shitty thing to do, and I feel, like, really, really shitty about it.”

“Jughead, I, I can’t...” I turned back towards the dome jungle gym, walking towards my shoes. I felt Jughead’s hand on my shoulder and then my back was against the monkey bars, my body trapped by Jughead’s.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Jughead admitted.” You’re everything to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. When I started dating Betty, I thought it would help me get over you, and then I could stop feeling the way I felt.” Jughead looked me in the eyes, his face no more than a few inches away from mine once again.” I watched what happened to my parents, and yours. They were just like us. They were best friends, and…” Jughead hung his head, cutting off his own words.

“Jughead.” I reached my hands up to cup his face, lifting his head to look at me.” We aren’t our parents, ok?” My thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his face. Jughead smiled, his eyes flickering down to my lips, and mine doing the same.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I laughed lightly, my arms wrapping around his neck. Jughead’s arms went to my waist, pulling me flush in to his body before he pressed his lips to mine. I sighed in to the kiss, feeling relief that Jughead felt the same way about me as I did him.

Jughead bit gently at my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he broke the kiss. I giggled, burying my face in to the crook of Jughead’s neck. ----------------------------------------------------- “I see my work did some justice.” I heard Ronnie call out. Jughead and I turned around on the sidewalk we had been on to see our friends.

“We have been looking everywhere for you guys! Where were you!” Archie called out, jogging towards us.

“Oh, you know, climbing jungle gyms, pushing Jughead off them, the usual.” I joked, looking up at Jughead. He smiled, rolling his eyes. Ronnie and Betty walked up to us, hands held together.

“Hey, nothings gonna be… awkward, right?” Betty asked, looking at Jughead and I.

“No, Betts, everything’s good.” Jughead looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

“Ok, good.” Betty rested her hand on Jughead’s shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze before dropping it.

“Wait, so, you two?” Archie asked, looking at Ronnie and Betty, who nodded.

“And you two?” Archie looked at Jughead and I. Jughead nodded and I blushed, hiding in his side. Jughead wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.” Kevin shrugged, walking towards us.

“Hey, we’re all heading to Pop’s, you coming?” Archie asked Jug and I.

“Archibald Andrews, do you ever think I would turn down a burger and fries from our ever so famous chock-lit shoppe?” I put a hand over my chest in mock offense.

“Of course you and Jughead are together, why was I even surprised.” Archie rolled his eyes, walking away from us.

“That obvious, huh?” Jughead spoke aloud, looking down at me.

“Yep.”

[essential-non-essentials]

Pentagons are Complicated

Sooooo, I posted this at AO3 and FFN. I figured I should post here too, since I haven’t updated this blog of any original content. //full of reblogs lol 

You may ask me clarify stuff, of course. 

Enjoy!

Mr. Sandman was playing in the background. A bit fitting really, since Mabel was hoping that what happened last night was a dream. Mr. Sandman, make it all a dream. Let it all be a dream. She’d kill herself if it wasn’t. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. She’d punish herself, that’s for sure, but suicide? I love myself. Why would I kill this wonderful, sexy young woman and take her away from a world that needs her?

She opened her eyes, and stared in horror. She was staring at the ceiling. Someone else’s ceiling. She’s pretty sure it’s not her ceiling back at home as she practically seduced Gid to let her put some hanging mobiles in their bedroom.  This is someone else’s ceiling! She repeated in her mind. She’s even more terrified to look at the person sleeping beside her. She doesn’t want reality to slap her twice in the face. She looked at the clock perched on the bedside table. 7:05, she knew that though it’s this early on a Saturday, her companion was fully awake. He had an amazingly disciplined body, and it would wake up on its own at exactly seven in the morning, so he says. She pressed the button of the digital clock and the music stopped.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she said, “Dipper can never know.”

“Know what? That you confronted me and tried to meddle with his love life or that we had sex?” Bill shifted to face her.

“Both, Bill, both,” she said irritably. “I never intended for this to happen, I am so stupid.”

“Stupid enough to get drunk with me and do this to yourself,” he said.

“This bitch,” she muttered then raised her voice, “don’t tell me I’m the only one who did this, you’re in it as well!”

Bill just shrugged.

“Did we use…?”

“Yes we did.”

She almost sighed of relief when the next difficult question passed her mind.

“D’you think Dipper would be heartbroken if he knew I had this with you?”

“I don’t know. You’re the twin sister, you should know.”

“And we’ve known you for, what, twenty years? Since we were kids?”

“Nah, he’ll get over it,” he waved as if turning something away, the thought maybe. “But really, he’ll be pissed at you first, then get over it.”

“No, no,” Mabel sat up, and groaned; partly because of horror, and partly because of her painfully throbbing head. She had to ask even though she knew the answer. She wanted to hear that she thought wrong. But, as always, she was right.

“And me, he’ll be mad at me, but I can handle it.”

She just couldn’t look at Bill. She found their situation awkward. But of course it was awkward, it’s Bill! They knew him since they were kids! Sure, he was hot and stuff plus Mabel’s type but… he’s having an affair with the brother she knows and loves. And ever since Dipper got married to Pacifica, Mabel never got to talk to him, even more than after she married Gideon, that she doesn’t know what’s happening to his life anymore. She only knew of Bill and Dipper yesterday morning when she arranged a surprise visit to Dipper’s office. She couldn’t understand the feeling she got when she saw both men kissing on what they thought was a spot where no one would see them. Bill really said that last night to her that they both thought that was a good spot to make out because no one would see them. Well, for the longest time, no one did, until Mabel’s visit.

Bill made a breakfast of eggs Benedict and coffee downstairs while Mabel showered and dressed. His house was mostly painted white, with yellow and black items here and there. Mabel remembered that he once told them that he wanted the whole place to be yellow because that was his favorite color but the interior designer frowned at him, saying that it would be too bright and it hurts the eyes. So he let her do the picking of wall paint. He’s fine with how the place turned out actually. The lighting was bright, even at night, perfect for making art; Mabel liked it. If she hadn’t married Gideon, her place would look almost identical to this, she thought. Her place was not bad, but it could be better.

Managing a clothing line was hard, but at least she gets to design some clothes. It helps her escape from what she considers an unhappy marriage. She believed that one marries for love, not for business partnerships. But life was ironic and what she hadn’t wanted to happen to her, well, happened to her. Gideon loved her, loved her too much she could drown in it, but she didn’t love him back. He was just too… clingy and possessive. He’d freak if he found out what she’s done with Bill. The sexy, handsome, blonde Bill Cipher, with a huge grin, his incisors showing…one that’s cooking with only jeans and an apron on.

She was still a little bit wobbly on her feet. She half dragged herself to the table and sat. Every movement was rattling her brain that it hurt, but this was better than before she showered.

“Damn it Cipher, it’s like you never got drunk last night,” she said.

“It doesn’t show, of course, because of my overwhelming handsomeness, it is masked,” he said, teasing.

They ate as if nothing awkward ever happened last night, like they were just out partying, like the drinking buddies they were. For a moment there, Mabel forgot what they have done. That she called out Bill to their favorite bar, drank too much because she was too nervous to ask what’s been going on with him and Dipper, and when she finally had the courage to ask, she was stupid drunk. They left the bar and their cars on the parking lot and walked. The nearest house was Bill’s so they crashed there, drank some cold wine from Bill’s fridge to wash down the taste of vomit from their mouths. Then it got her thinking that wine was for…

“…like, romantic dates, or something. Then there’s sex after…I don’t know. Were not like that, aren’t we Bill?” Mabel hiccupped.

Bill laughed. “No, but I have to admit, I find you sexy… like one of my stupid hot friends. That’s really…fuckable. No offense… but really.”

“Well, what do you know? I find you really sexy and hot too! Like my-type-of-guy-but-it-would-be-awkward-to-have-a-relationship-with type of friend…that was too long.”

They both laughed.

It was Mabel who asked, “But, really, how would it feel to have sex with you?”

“I don’t know…I tried never to think about that now, even though I have in the past once. When we were in college, and I couldn’t tell you ‘coz you might get offended. There we go! I told you! I have no more secrets from you!”

Then next thing they know, they were kissing and taking their clothes off. The details were hazy from there, but that’s the gist of everything that happened.

“Great idea washing down the vomit with wine, Cipher,” she said when they finally got to the topic of last night.

“Hey, it worked for me!”

“But my brain feels like it’s about to explode.”

“Drunk talk is just weird…”

“Well, at least we now know how it feels—“

“No, please, stop right there, I’m going to melt of shame! I’m ashamed of myself!” Mabel covered her red face.

Bill laughed, wincing once, and then continued laughing.

But Mabel didn’t find it funny. On another day maybe she might have but now, knowing Dipper is having an affair with this man… this man that he might love…

Bill stopped now, confused as to why Mabel wasn’t laughing with him.

“Did…did Dipper,” she chewed her lip, it’s now or never, I guess. “…Is he in love with you..?” There goes the question, and the words I can’t take back. Mabel was preparing for the painful answer, like expecting a slap from someone. “Did he say he was in love with you?”

“Dipper is a complicated person to understand but I know when the both of you are pretending…”

Mabel just looked at him. Where is he going with this?

“I’m fine with it though, the sex is great and I love you both. But I know Dipper doesn’t feel what he thinks he feels with me. He’s a good liar, your brother; he could even lie to himself.”

Mabel waited for her hangover to pass. They watched some Sherlock movies and the television series, because Bill was currently hooked with it. (He even got the books.) For lunch, she treats Bill (as a thank you and a bribe never to tell Dipper) to a new café she found while driving to Dipper’s office yesterday. Bill knew that more bribes are coming his way for the next few days, and he’s sure he’ll be enjoying them.

When Mabel got in her car, Bill knocked on her window and she rolled it down.

Bill never thought of it as gross. He thought of it as unfortunate. They were in love, and that shouldn’t have been wrong. But in his beloved twins’ case, society said it was. It was sad.

“He still loves you, you know?”

Mabel cried the whole trip home.