#i guess my thoughts are probably indicative of where i’m at in the game so whatever

[a-sketchy]

basically the fundamental gist of it is that yosuke relates to kanji a lot, and that scares him so so so bad

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk

Word Count: 1.7k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123

A/n: I had so much fun writing this part! Quick reminder, it’s based on the Scream 1996 movie so there will be a lot of the plot in it 🙂 Let me know what you think of this chapter down in the comments below 👇🏻 criticism is also appreciated, but don’t be too harsh lol. It just leaves room for more improvement, and if you want to be added to the taglist let me know below 🥰 Lastly, it’s also my first time writing a smut-like scene, so hopefully it isn’t too cringe… I haven’t proofread yet, but I’ll be doing that as it’s published and I’ll make changes as I go. Thank you for reading! I’m excited to see where this series will go!

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 5

The landline rang and rang, interrupting your peaceful slumber. You groaned, slowly sitting up on your couch, sinking into the black cushions, tossing the fuzzy-dark purple blanket to the side.

“What the?” You murmured, half awake. You groggily rubbed at your eyes, attempting to get rid of any sleep that lingered.

You glanced at the blinking red and bold numbers that flashed across the alarm clock that sat quietly on the couch-side table; indicating that it was now 10:30pm.

School had ended several hours ago, so who could possibly be calling?

‘Hmm, maybe it’s Sidney calling to apologize.’ You thought, jokingly, knowing that she’d never do that.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming!” You moaned, annoyed at the frequent ringing that seemed to get louder and louder.

Pushing yourself off of what was your comfortable ‘bed’, you trekked to the kitchen where your landline was blaring.

You picked up the black phone, placing it against your ear.

“Ugh, hello?” You asked.

No answer, but you heard heavy breathing on the other side. “I said, hello?” You narrowed your eyes, leaning up against your marbled-kitchen counter.

“Hello…” A man spoke, his voice was odd, but eerily beautiful sounding. “Who is this?” He asked, and you tapped your fingers against your cheek, somewhat pissed.

“I should be asking you that.” You retorted, “But I’ll bite, who are you trying to reach?” You were genuinely curious to know because it’s not often you get phone calls like this, you should probably help in some way or another, right?

“What number is this?” He asked yet another question, ignoring what you had already asked.

You scoffed, he’s playing games, that you can tell.

“Why don’t you look at your caller ID and see?” You snipped, not in the mood for any pranks.

“I could do that, but why don’t you tell me?”

“Ah, no thanks, I assume you have eyes. You can do it yourself.” You mumbled, “What I can tell you, is that you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, no shit. It happens, though. Take it easy.” You huffed, hanging up.

You went to walk to the front door, but your telephone started to ring again, you turned on the soles of your feet, starting your journey back to your previous spot.

“He wants to play games, fine, I’ll play.” You gritted your teeth, picking up the bulky phone again.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”

It was the same guy.

“And you dialed it again, because?” Your attitude rises with each word you speak.

“To apologize.”

Smooth…

“Okay, you’re forgiven, bye..” You sighed about to hang up again.

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” He quickly spoke.

“What is it?”

“I want to talk to you.”

You smiled, your mood drifting from annoyed to intrigued. You are somewhat enjoying this now, but you didn’t know why. Maybe it had something to do with his voice; it was attractive and husky sounding, almost hoarse. Voices like that always had you in a chokehold, the gruffness could and would send you spiraling, maybe that is why Steve was able to charm you so easily.

“They’ve got over 500 numbers for that.” You chuckled, “But I’m honored you chose this house to annoy… but I really should be going now.” You fibbed, hanging up.

You walked to the front door to make sure it was locked, thankfully it was.

Your basic horror-movie instincts kicking in.

Peaking through the eyehole, you looked around to see if anyone was dawdling around.

Ring… ring, ring…

There’s that damn phone again.

You headed back to the landline, brushing your hair out of your face, and placed the object against your ear for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Hello.”

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” He sounded upset.

‘Does this guy ever let up?’ You asked yourself.

“Alright, who is this?” You nagged.

“Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine.”

“I don’t think so.” You unraveled the phone’s cord, walking towards the fridge, opening it and grabbing a bag of chips, which made a crinkling sound.

“What’s that noise?”

“Oh, sorry, I was grabbing chips.” You giggled, not meaning to apologize to a complete stranger about grabbing chips, it was a dumb thing to apologize for.

“Chips? I only ever eat chips during a movie…” He prolonged the word movie, making it last longer than it should.

“Huh, maybe I should put one on…” You said out loud, insinuating that it was a good idea, it’s not like you will be sleeping tonight, anyways. You had a 6 hour nap today, hence why you woke up so late. You’d probably still be sleeping right now if this strange person hadn’t called you.

You debated whether you should or not watch a movie, but decided that you would in the long run.

“Really? What movie?”

“I’m thinking of a scary movie.”

“You like scary movies?”

“Uh-huh..” You smirked, biting the tail end of your thumb nail.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Halloween… easily. Something about a tall-masked man that stalks his prey, almost like a game of cat and mouse, turns me on..” You blubbered, the smirk never leaving your face.

…Silence…

“I’d watch that over a good porno any day.” You admitted, inadvertently getting yourself turned on, Michael Myers, was easily someone you’d try to escape just by fucking him; in your rules of Fight, Flight or Fuck, you’d go with fuck, even if it got you killed for trying.

It’s a peculiar thought and probably something you should get help with; especially if it involves wanting to fuck a slasher of all things, but no one needs to know, well, minus that this complete stranger now knows it.

The person on the other end was completely flustered and not expecting what you had said, usually his victims fall prey to these little games, and he finds out more about them during the process, making it easier to get into their home. However, with you, despite already knowing you, he didn’t know that…

You’re a slasher-fucker.

“Hello?” You spoke, bringing the unknown male back to reality.

“Really now?” He sounded flabbergasted, “Do you usually tell strangers this fact about yourself?” He teased.

You laughed, “No, I don’t actually. You’re the first, not even my best friend knows that dark fact about me.. Billy he’s—“ You stopped yourself, not meaning to blurt out his name, what if this was the killer?

You coughed awkwardly into your hand, changing the subject. “What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Guess…” He taunted, but his head was elsewhere, ‘Huh, so I know something about (Y/n) that Billy doesn’t…’ He grinned behind his mask, feeling a bit of triumph.

“Umm, A Nightmare on Elm Street?” You uttered in his ear, bringing him back with the lull of your voice.

“Is that the one where the guy has knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, Freddy Krueger.” You gleamed, another Slasher you’d like to get your hands on as sick as you are, too bad he was also fiction.

“Freddy, that's right. I liked that movie, it was scary.”

“Really? I didn’t find it that scary.”

“So, you got a boyfriend?” He asked, changing topics. “Or is it just Michael Myers you’d love to have?” He rambled, a hint of lust hanging off a thread in his words. He was enjoying this too much, the fact that you’re probably just as twisted as him was enough to send his mind into the gutters, God, did he ever want to feel your cunt around his shaft; just knowing you’d probably let him fuck you because he’s a masked killer was giving him another hard one. He couldn’t help but reach under his cloak and start rubbing one out as he watched you from a distance.

You giggled again, completely enamored. “Why? You wanna ask me on a date?” You taunted, bending over the counter again, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Your silk-black night gown, riding up your thigh, revealing more of your skin and your pink undergarments during your movement.

Unbeknownst to you, this caused the Watcher to struggle.

“Maybe. S-So, do you have a boyfriend?” He stuttered, not meaning to, as the pressure of his gloved hand shifted up and down faster and faster. It felt too good, and your voice was edging him on, getting him closer to his summit.

The cloaked figure rutted into his hand as his hot seed filled his palm. ‘F-fuck…’ he thought, jerking his hips as he finished his climax.

“Mm, no.”

“You never told me your name.” He grumbled, cleaning himself up, tucking his dick back into his pants.

“Why do you wanna know my name so bad?” You questioned,

“‘Cause I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You froze, becoming spooked. You gulped, “W-What did you say?”

You waited for him to speak, but all that was heard was silence, “Hello—“

You were cut off mid sentence by your doorbell ringing and you snapped your head up in that direction, you hung up immediately.

You placed the phone face down on the counter, walking over to your door. You looked out the peephole, seeing that no one was there.

Swiftly, you unlocked your door, hesitantly opening it, poking your head out, trying to get a better look outside, but all that was there was your car and a few stray animals scattering about.

You stepped out, but your foot had hit something. You jumped back, looking down.

There was a pink-coloured box with a red ribbon tied around it and a note.

You quirked a brow, picking it up. It was on the heavier side, but not completely.

You walked back to the kitchen gently placing it down on the counter next to your phone, carefully taking the note off and reading it out loud;

“You look so pretty when you’re spooked, especially in that little-black nightgown you’re wearing right now…” You gasped, your legs beginning to tremble in fear as your hands shook, but you roughed it out, wanting to finish the rest of the note, soon fearing the worst. “I brought you a little something from your ‘boyfriend’ Steve… Signed, G.F.”

“What… What the fuck?” You grimaced, putting the note beside you.

Gulping, you ripped the ribbon off and opened the box. Only for it to reveal another medium-sized box, you took that out, placing it outside of the other one.

You were quick to notice the red-splotches and felt the wetness of it. You shakily opened a drawer, and took out a kitchen knife, and cut the box open.

Your eyes widened as tears glossed over them, you dropped the knife to the ground and it cladded with the tiles as it seemed to have bounced in slow motion. You cupped your mouth, wanting to scream, but nothing came out, just silent whimpers as you looked at the human heart that laid in the box.

The phone rang again, causing you to twitch at the sudden sound.

You didn’t bring it to your ear this time, but you still heard that voice loud and clear.

“I hope you like your gift, (Y/n).”

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[ov105]

Nighthawk

This took a lot longer to write, again, Though it just made the deadline for OEC’s (re)debut(?) so that counts as a win. Probably one of the more difficult ones to write for some reason, despite the simple premise. Maybe I’m just a bit burnt out, so I’m very glad it finished itself. Just on time, just on time...

2,125 words of Jeong Jinsol. Enjoy!

Seoul. Thursday. The banks of the Han were a reminder of an average existence. After filling ourselves to the brim with samgyeopsal and two bottles of soju, we were neither drunk nor fully sober. I didn't see doubles, nor was she, sans the headache, rubbing the side of my forehead, and maybe the more sluggish pace of walking. Time also seemed to go by quickly but much slower if it indicated being genuinely drunk. Steering clear of needing hangover drinks when we brought our snacks. We just laid out our jackets, having not needed to use them with how humid it was, instead using them in unorthodox employment.

So we sat far from the populated spots where many people were, but not exactly secluded to become another statistic; A trough alongside the usual path, not too steep for anybody with a mat to lay down on. Fingers jammed halfway deep in a snack bag of whatever flavor to wash out the taste of alcohol, chatting about what looking far along the breadth of the Han gave us to talk about.

In any case, it was a proper waste of time for either of us. 

One thing she had a knack for when she was intoxicated—doing something stupid. Chuckling at the mention of me not wanting to venture into the woods at night, she asked. 

"Hey, wanna go into those?" 

Jinsol, with a naughty smile, pointed to the grove, a small one that an elevated highway passed above through. 

"You're not gonna find anything there," I asked. 

"I know." 

Moving closer, she reached for something, placing her hand on my thigh. Her breathing slowed, and her eyes, looking around, signaled a pursuit, a need for pleasure, so much for treasure hunting, as she leaned closer. I did the same and kissed her, so much as an agreement, her hand slipping between my thighs. Mine came to her neck and slid into her shirt, groping her as she deepened her kiss before sliding it out and pulling her by her thighs, making her slide closer as she grabbed my crotch, with my hands squeezing at her tits. Tucking our hands away when we thought we heard a bike coming, she told me. 

"Fuck, now I want to go home."

I didn't want to wait for home. Jinsol did too. It was too late now. Though nobody wanted to say it first, I remembered the grove she wanted to go to. One glance and the bushes and tree trunks seemed thick enough to hide behind. 

"Psst, wanna do a quickie over there?" 

"Do you?"

I just huffed and stood up, walking up the crest and not more than five steps later. 

"Ya, wait up."

Briskly matching my pace, she grabbed onto my shoulders. I was looking around, trying to be confident in our quick hideaway. I told her to dart into the brush, following as I broke into a jog and charged behind the bush.

Quickly finding a tree, she pushed me up against it, putting her lips on me again though now with much the same shamelessness she displayed in the bedroom. Barely seeing anything, it was a guessing game of touch, rummaging amongst ourselves. Our hands found their way on our crotches again, lightly grabbing where we could as we aroused ourselves. 

Though I was the one pushed, I knew where to touch Jinsol, feeling herself becoming much warmer as her flesh slid past my fingers—cursing myself for being unable to take off her shirt and suck on her nipples, which she always liked since I tugged at it so gently. My case was more straightforward. I liked the way they felt in my mouth. Not wanting to dwell on what couldn't be, I slid my hand out of her shirt and onto her ass, grabbing and squeezing it, and for the first time, she pulled away, shakily breathing as we reversed our positions.

Kissing deeper this time, I was already hardening on her grip, sliding her fingers along its length. Whispering into my ear as she teased me, though I tried not to be too distracted. Giving myself some reassurance that this would be worth it, I gave a few more smooches, pressing my fingers on her pussy, drawing a small circle, before pulling away, whispering. 

"Take your pants off."

Taking her hands off me, Jinsol did so, following after her zipper as now I pressed against her panties. Feeling her warmth through my fingers as her body relaxed, she sighed as her palm let go of my neck and landed on my shoulder. Pulling back, I saw where my lips were due next, putting them low on her neck as I sucked hard. Her jacket's collar always rose higher than where I struck. 

The only thing worth listening to by then was her to stifle her moans. Rubbing on her clit, damning foreplay as I just needed to get her wet. Thinking that was enough, I slipped into her panties, feeling her folds getting wet as I slid my finger over them, going through all the motions as I played to her tune. I closed my eyes as we kissed, letting our guard down as she writhed, her legs shaking, hips even bucking when I pressed my finger between her folds—all while trying to keep quiet and not give us away. I almost forgot we were supposed to be quick. But after one close brush with breaking our silence, I stopped. 

"Your turn?" Jinsoul asked. 

"No need for that," I replied as I undid my zipper.

"Why's that?" 

Reaching her hand forward, she then slid it into my pants. Seeing her smile through the dark as she felt my stiff shaft waiting, that curious chuckle as she turned around and slid her panties down. I undid mine in turn, sliding my boxers off my cock. I knew what was in front of me. Every time, I simply couldn't help myself with her bare fat ass just left alone—slap!—Jinsol snapped her neck at me. Tsk! Shrugging, I put my hands on her hips and put my tip against that soft opening to push past. 

Deep breath, hips forward, I slide into Jinsol, clenching my ass as her tightness beckoned me further inside. Departing from the usual ruse de guerre of slow, short thrusts, I bucked my hips forward. I gritted my teeth, a wave of pleasure rolling me over. Seeing her turn her head as my second thrust made her whimper, the squelch of her walls making me stop for a second. 

Pressing my fingers in, I continued to thrust. If it was already difficult to keep herself hush earlier, it was near impossible now. Almost feeling Jinsol's weight shift as she began to shudder. Her legs shook, and I knew I could stay still, but she was always easy to take down with a few thrusts. Feeling so much tighter with her legs closed that it felt like I was pushing with my hip, not just merely thrusting. 

"Fuck," she huffed, mouthing a cuss I couldn't make out, following with a muted order. 

"Deeper." 

Then I remembered how I was fucking her. She wasn't bent down all the way, sliding a palm forward and pressing just below her tummy as I complied. That did the trick. She slipped a moan between her lips, shooting back at me as she put her fingers over it. Unfortunately, my eyes failed to catch hers, but I felt her stare all the same. I just knew the look on her face as I grabbed her ass and kept going.

By now, if we'd taken our time, she would've been moaning loudly, making a mess on the sheets, and starting to talk it up until she'd cum. I was losing myself inside her, as I always did. Watching myself plunge into the deep warmth that left me wanting for more, leaving me throbbing, wanting every time I pulled. Velvety is how I always described it. The only thing not obscured was her fingers on the wood, which were a bit bent, and with her moaning earlier, I knew I was doing alright.

Pulling her a little closer to me, the shuffle of her steps gave me a better view of her ass, bouncing lightly even when my pace wasn't that fast, a perfect angle for us to lead things to the end. 

I just knew Jinsol's body enough by now. I should've, really, her slim torso that spread out onto her wide hips and plump ass. Giving me the leverage and pleasure we both wanted every time we fucked one another—never a one-time event—but always ending as a messy affair. She was tall enough, her legs long to wrap me around when she didn't want to let me go and always tighter when she closed her legs and squeezed me. Right now, it made for an easy fuck. 

"Faster."

She whispered. Keeping up with her as I tightened my grip and sped up, letting out another moan with how quickly I sped up, which until then, I thought she disliked. Listening to her, she was whimpering and biting her lip as she moaned through her teeth. Picturing her face, that lewd expression of her eyes shut, her breath shaking, and her lips doing all they could to keep her quiet. 

Being almost bent flat, she had put herself in a tough spot. There was no bed to plop her face down on, no pillows to scream or moan into, nor four walls to bounce back whatever expression of moan she had in her throat. She was on her own, out in public, being fucked, ever closer to orgasm behind a tree, forced to keep quiet as an echo spelled doom. What was constant, however, was that she was being railed deep.

Feeling her legs weaken, I needed to turn it up just by a notch. The sliding action of her wet pussy grinding against my shaft lets me know we're close. So I pushed her forward with my hips, telling her to raise where her hand had been as my left hand slipped back into her shirt, grabbing me by my wrists as I sped up, with shorter and quicker thrusts as I twitched. Returning to the closer position we had been when we started. Stopping to catch my breath, I leaned in and whispered. 

"You're close?"

Jinsol was too tired to talk, nodding as she leaned to kiss me.

"You too?"

I nodded in reply before starting to move again. Hearing a whine as Jinsol turned her head away, I felt that numbing sensation, a tensioned string, build within my hips, my shaft becoming as sensitive as hers. Giving it my all, I thrust where she shuddered the most, repeatedly rubbing the spot as it did with me, biting my lip as I was becoming overrun by my orgasm. Gripping her harder as she was beginning to tighten around me, threatening to squeeze me before her, moans rising in pitch, legs becoming weaker as she tried to stand and keep herself shushed with whatever she had left. A breathy voice came from Jinsol, near inaudible, though I knew what it meant.

So then again, sex was never the same twice with Jinsol.

Going first, she suddenly tightened, throwing her ass back with a jiggle onto my crotch as she spilled over herself. At the same time, thrusting her forward as I came, spilling freely into Jinsol as the first shot deep inside, with it the only moan from me, releasing a load that had been waiting for a while so freely and without as much regret. We reduced into squirming bodies holding each other as we finished. Both of us had little idea of how quick, or if we were even fast enough, inside the grove—collapsing into an embrace as we caught our breath. Sharing a kiss with me, she always had something to say. 

"That was nice." 

I couldn't think of a reply, dead tired, so I kissed her. 

Pulling out of her, my cum spilled, both of us giggling as it dripped out onto the grass. She could not wipe it. The tissues were back in our makeshift blanket, so thinking she'd spilled enough, she pulled her underwear back up while I fixed myself. But the sweat on our foreheads didn't hide anything, though that was much easier to write off. Sneaking back into the path, two scans of the horizon lent us nothing. We walked back with hands linked as we sat down, wiped ourselves off, and grabbed whatever drink we had.

I wasn't even two sips in when Jinsol stepped in.

"So, another round at your place?"

Always more than twice, but never once.

[literaila]

c’mere 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: peter accidentally takes a picture of you with the flash on. 

warnings: fluff. 

a/n: i have no clue whats going on with my series at the moment so take this instead :)

*

it's not peter's fault when you turn around with wide eyes and a slightly concerned brow. 

it is not his fault when a yelp escapes your mouth and your whole body freezes. 

and it is certainly not his fault that someone forgot to turn off the flash on his camera. 

or, that's what he'll tell you. 

you open the window, mouth slightly pursed, eyes still wide. "what are you doing?" 

peter swings through before you can finish asking the question, forcing you to move back. 

before he grabs your forearm, fingers playing with the skin there, to force you closer to him. 

to push and pull and keep smiling at you like he's done nothing wrong. 

he swings his head back and forth, leaning in to you. 

he wants to kiss you, but the look on your face indicates that you would like anything but. 

it's mostly amusing. 

"did you just take a picture of me?" 

"no." peter shakes his head, purses his lips, so sure of himself. 

he doesn't let the smile slip. 

but he can still see it. 

you. sitting at your desk, writing something in a journal you never let him see, shoulders relaxed, body attuned to the beat of the music you're playing in the background. an unknowing smile on your face. 

peter already knows that it's going on the wall. 

he understood that from the moment he took it. 

"delete it," you say, quickly, removing your hands from his, your arms, so that you can cross them. 

so that you can keep a measured distance between the two of you.

"what?" he asks, frowning. "why?" 

"because. i wasn't ready." 

he laughs. holds his camera up in the air like he knows that you're going to grab it. "no way." 

"peter." 

he shakes his head at you, a small smile plastered to his face. 

he knows that you're not actually mad. but do you know that? 

you probably don't know about all of the other pictures of you in the same position, plastered somewhere on his wall where he guessed you wouldn't look. 

you've only caught him once. 

"i'll kick you out," you say, as a threat. 

but peter slides his shoes off. he drops his bag on the ground and falls onto your bed, still smiling at you, still as arrogant as ever. 

still watching you. waiting for you to break. 

this might be his favorite game. 

"your bed is so warm," he mumbles, turning over into his stomach and pushing his face into one of your pillows. 

maybe it's so that you can't see the guilt on his face. 

maybe it's so he can smell you, can trick you into climbing into bed with him. 

maybe he's just tired. 

"peter," you poke his shoulder, eyes still venomous. "why are you wearing clothes?" 

he turns around, brow raised. "sorry?" 

"no--" you sigh, head towards the ceiling like you're waiting for an answer. "i mean--where's your suit?"

"i changed." 

"why?" 

peter considers this. 

maybe he didn't want to scare you again. or did, but not like that. 

maybe he wanted to feel normal, for just a night. 

or maybe he just wanted to climb through your window. 

"couldn't let anyone see me come in." 

you tilt your head, brows softening. peter watches your face brighten right in front of him. he watches as you shift, thoughts changing, ideas forming in your head. 

you know him; you know what he means. 

he is almost taken aback by the idea. 

he is almost completely knocked out, by just the thought. 

it hurts more than any punch. 

and exhilarates him. in a strange, conscious way. 

"you've done it before," you say, a little bit softer, smoother. you sit down on the bed, still four feet away from him. "and no one's seen you." 

he smiles. "yeah." 

and leaves the answer out in the air. 

he lets it drift away to someone else's balcony. he would rather stare at you than think about any of the complexities that come with spider-man. 

he would rather stare at you than do anything else. 

"i'm not deleting that picture," he says, as if a child. "i like it." 

"you haven't even seen it." 

"i love it." 

you bite the inside of your cheek, just so peter can't watch you smile. 

it makes him laugh. 

"c'mere," he whispers, hand-stretched towards you. 

but your brow furrows again. 

your expression molds into the next, and peter tries to take a snapshot of every single moment there is of any hesitation. 

he just barely gets it all. 

"i'm not 'c'mere-ing' with you." 

peter frowns. "c'mere." 

you laugh at him now, teeth flashing in the light. eyes hidden from peter, but still so knowing. "you can't just repeat what you said and expect different results." 

"i'm insane," peter allows. "i want to cuddle with you." 

"are you going to delete the picture?" 

"never." 

you shrug. look away from him. "i've got some homework to finish." 

peter reaches out and grabs your hand. 

you allow it, for just the moment. 

"i won't do anything," he promises, softly, pretending that your skin doesn't burn him every time you move. 

"that was very convincing." 

"i just wanna look at you." 

your eyes soften if only for the way he says it. "you can do that from my bed." 

"not close enough." 

"peter." 

and if there's anything peter knows about you--you always break. 

reluctantly, but with a coercive smile on your face, you climb in next to him, crossing your legs and looking down at him. 

"not close enough," he whispers again, hand trailing up your arm and creating goosebumps down your back. 

"i'm not tired." 

"we don't have to sleep," his eyebrows raise, he stares down at your lips because they are slightly addicting. and also because he's weak. 

you nudge him, laughing. "what happened to not doing anything?" 

"i lied," he says, leaning closer. 

"i don't kiss liars." 

and peter smiles, a bit amused by every ounce of resistance you put into your words. a bit amused because he can see your eyes flicker down to his lips, a bit possessed. 

"liar," he says, and then he kisses you. 

and you don't complain. or move away. because you never do. 

peter leans up, angling himself so that you're almost on top of him. 

his hand goes around your waist, to the center of your back, slightly dragging as it urges to feel every inch of your skin. 

the other goes to your face, holding you as close to him as possible. thumb feeling the twinge of your cheek as you smile. 

which peter can feel because he's kissing you. 

his heart sighs at the gesture. 

"peter," you whisper, lips still on his, the word going straight to his stomach and swirling around. 

he doesn't answer. merely kisses you harder. 

you almost laugh. 

he leans up even more, the hand on your back moving to the parts of your thigh he can reach, gentle and softening and always seeking more. 

you just barely gasp when he flips you over, a moment in all. 

"peter," you whisper again, but it's louder. more forceful. 

"c'mere," he says, smiling against you, feeling as you wrap your hands around his neck. 

never complaining, only pretending to. 

you tilt your head up so you can keep up with him. you breathe into his mouth, not allowing an inch of distance between the two of you. 

your hands streak into his hair and peter has to fight back a groan. 

he has to pretend that this is casual. 

that this doesn't elicit a type of euphoria that words cannot describe. 

but feelings can. 

like his sore throat, taken back by the effort it takes to breathe when he's this close to you. 

like his pounding stomach, pushing and pulling and trying not to be swarmed by the rabble in his stomach. 

like the taste of your lips, the feel of your own skin, branding into his. 

like the fact that he can feel your eyes fluttering, making an effort to stay closed. 

he pulls back, just to look at you. 

just to see you some more. 

he smiles at you, traces a finger up your face, admiring the gentle creases in your skin. 

"what?" you ask him, softly, trying to hide in your own skin, for just a moment. 

but peter tilts your chin back up, he watches your eyes, waiting for the answers that he knows are there. 

"you're lovely," he whispers, as if you can't hear him. 

he says it for himself; like a reminder. like a prayer into the world, begging for more. 

"peter," you whisper, and it's all the answer. 

he kisses you again. softer. breaking free from any feelings that he's trying not to feel. 

breaking free from the pain this causes. 

swearing to himself that it only makes it better. 

he breathes onto your skin, breath hot and humid, kissing your pulse. moving down your neck so that he can taste more. 

so that you might keep mumbling into the air, saying things that he can't hear but can feel. 

so that he might elicit just another vibration from your lips. 

you push even closer to him. 

there's no resistance. 

but as soon as he wraps back up around your neck, lips choosing to fall closer to your ear, to nibble at the skin there and enjoy the way you giggle--you push up at his chest, almost squirming away from him. 

"hey," you say, and he stops. 

he looks into your eyes, pleasure morphing to concern. "you alright?" 

"i just wanna look at you." 

the words are enough to push him back onto his side. to move him so that he's facing you, close enough to taste your skin, but resisting, just so he can abide your wishes. 

"i love you," you tell him, in breathless whispers, staring into his eyes. 

he repeats it back to you, like a mockingbird. 

flying closer to you, swearing that he's never going to leave your side. 

it's not his fault, really. 

if you weren't so addicting, he might not have to. 

"peter," you say, just one last time. 

and he smiles. 

"c'mere."

*

my masterlist here. 

tags:  @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf​

[infernal-heart]

Cannot stop thinking about your post on the similarities between the judgement hall and the school. I was wondering if you could elaborate on more thoughts on that? Or I guess, who do you think would be the ‘judge’ in deltarune?

I absolutely can elaborate, yeah. Beyond the birds that I mentioned in the original post, the school in the afternoon specifically is, like the judgement hall, quiet. It’s almost eerily so. You and Susie are alone in this place, and I think it nails the atmosphere really well. Which is to say, it recontextualizes the same atmosphere we know (walking up to Sans in the judgement hall in UT, getting the speech about LV and EXP. But of course, more memorably, the Bad Time quote) aka one of relative dread, to one that is overtly… peaceful.

Don’t get me wrong, I still think it’s eerie. Any space alone is, but after all of Chapter 1, you’re left alone in this near-silent space. But it isn’t oppressive. It isn’t angry, or dangerous. It’s just… lonely. Isolated.

Uncanny is the word I’m looking for. Of course, devoid of the context of the UT Judgement Hall, I think a lot of the power of the atmosphere is lost. But with that context, with the foreknowledge of such a pivotal place in the story of that game, one naturally asks oneself: “What’s the connection here? Why is this place calling my mind back to the judgement hall?”.

Of course, I can’t definitively explain that because I’m not Toby, but I can guess. The end of the chapter(s) is itself important story moments, points of downtime. And, crucially, moments where important things happen. While comparing the story of DT and UT is probably meaningless, I think it bears some weight that right after you are in an environment eerily and intentionally similar to Judgement Hall, you are given the game’s first look into a shakeup of the traditional rules or formula. In UT, Asgore breaks your mercy button. In DT, the end of Chapter 1 shows us the first clear indication that something is awry between Kris and the Soul. Something to consider.

Backpedaling for a moment, the comparison between the school and the judgement hall isn’t just, y’know, musical or audio-based: this environment does literally look like the judgement hall. The yellow, checkered flooring, the light coming in through the windows. It’s very, very reminiscent, and as I’ve said many times at this point, Toby clearly meant this.

(Also, point of intrigue that is not entirely relevant to this discussion, but is interesting: the Dark World closet door looks suspiciously similar to a number of doors in the True Lab)

But I digress.

As for who I think a “judge” might be…

I think if there were one mechanically, we’d probably have to wait until near the end of DT as a whole to see. Given Sans/the Judgement Hall’s placement in undertale, if there were an analog to that in DT, we probably aren’t far enough along in the story to have seen them.

However.

I think that the Secret Bosses (Jevil and Spamton so far) serve a similar purpose as Sans narratively in DT that he did in UT.

Sans was written to be a very rounded character. He was never important, and that was the point: he’s a watcher, really. A judge. He takes the sum of what you’ve done, and displays it to you in a succinct package, both during the Judgement Hall sequence and the post-neutral run phone calls. He serves as almost a summary to the player, an in-universe perspective on what your actions mean for others. And, of course, his role as a Judge (being almost reactive to your own as player) takes on a new meaning in the no-mercy/kill everything run, being your final challenge before world domination, and universal destruction. He puts up a good fight, as we all know. But he isn’t doing it because he wants to kill you: he knows he doesn’t truly have that power. As Sans says himself, he is trying to make you bored. Stopping you by being such an inconvenience that you, the player, will give up. That is to say, he knows more than most of the cast either lets on (Papyrus may have a similar level of timeline-knowledge, I don’t know enough about it to say for sure) or genuinely is aware of.

That’s the key point of similarity: Sans serves the role of somebody (other than Flowey, the main villain) who, in some part, understands your actions and your agency. He’s somebody to bounce off of, I think.

And this is reflected in the secret bosses, most obviously in Spamton. He is, in the end, the single character we have met in DT who understands Kris and their relationship with the Soul (aside from MAYBE Noelle in Snowgrave but. It’s just speculation at that point I think). He is himself a puppet, and recognizes Kris as a kindred spirit, somebody bound to their strings as he is. Both the bosses, him and Jevil, share one attribute with eachother: amongst other things, they seek or believe themselves to be “Free”. Jevil believes he is the only one outside the cage, that he can do anything he wishes. Spamton yearns for freedom, to be cut from his strings and let loose. He wants your Soul because he knows it can set him free from his strings.

All of that is to prove what I said before: that in UT, Sans, and in DT, Jevil and Spamton, are almost… reflections of the player. I hesitate to use the word foils, but I think one could make a case for it.

All of that aside, if I had to guess, from our current list of characters, who a “Judge” might be?

My inclination is to say Susie. I think it would be impactful writing-wise to have her, a character Kris actively works at being friends with during chapter 1 and 2, end up being a force of karmic confrontation in regards to the actions of the player.

But if we’re thinking about this in terms of Sans’ role in UT, the “judge” character probably won’t be particularly central to the plot, and Susie absolutely is. Maybe Asriel? As a character established in his UT incarnation to have an understanding of timeline malarkey, and as the closest thing to a peer within that game to the player, he could provide a good way of being that in-universe perspective of karma that Sans was in UT.

I’m also somewhat apprehensive about him, though, given how important he is to Kris, and how important him coming to visit from college will/would be.

Again, I don’t think any Judge character (if we’re going off of a similar framework as Sans) will be somebody crucial to the story.

But I could be wrong. Ralsei presents a compelling case, I think, because he also knows something is up with Kris and the soul. We see both in Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, each time we (the player) shift perspectives from Kris to Susie, we return to Kris just as Ralsei finishes talking with them. It’s suspicious. It’s intriguing. It’s never touched upon, never mentioned at all, but it is an element of the story that I think will be important going forward. If anybody is to confront the Soul, other than Kris, I think it will be Ralsei, or maybe some plan put in motion by Ralsei.

Not that I think Ralsei is, like, oooh an evil mastermind and all that like some theories do. But he’s… smart. Smarter than he lets on. And he absolutely knows more than he gives willingly. (As a side note, even before thinking about him in this capacity, on my first Chapter 2 playthrough, I got weird vibes from Ralsei. The changed sprite, and a few instances of changed demeanor seemed… off, to me. Something has absolutely changed about him between chapters).

I’ll leave this post off with one more thing that I’m sure you’re well aware of at this point:

The Bunker.

The only other location with the sound of birds from the Judgement hall.

The only other specific location with a direct audio link to Undertale.

And the one place, I’d say, most associated with Gaster in the Deltarune world.

It’s this. This sort of thing, this kind of mystery, that I love Deltarune (and Undertale) for.

Why are the same birds out here, and (to my knowledge), nowhere else but the school?

Why is Gaster’s Entry 17 emanating, like a dying cry, from behind the closed doors, and beneath the earth?

Why does the sound of the birds cut out when you approach the bunker, leaving you in total silence but for the ragged memory of something you were never supposed to see?

That’s the question, I suppose. And the questions that I love to think about in UT and DT.

Gods, I love the mysteries in these games.

[gayemeralds]

Whats your honest opinion aboutnthe fandoms love for sonic and tails brotherly bonding biven that canon is not as strong on that regard

sorry for waiting like. months. to answer this question i’ve been pondering the best way to answer this for literally. months.

i guess the thing is i’ve never really thought about the domesticity of their relationship? a lot of fan things that depict them as brothers are very domestic, the little interactions between them living together and all that. sonic brushing tails’s fur. sonic telling tails to eat his vegetables. them shopping together. things like that. like, i do think they are brothers, and that they view themself as brothers, but i guess i don’t see them as conventional brothers? i’m not quite sure how to articulate this. like they ARE brothers, and they care about each other, and have a different sort of relationship than knuckles and sonic, and sonic and amy, and sonic and cream. but i wouldnt say they’d be anything like ed and al from fma. hm. it took literally thirty years to hear sonic call tails his brother in a game.

like, when i think of them, i’m inclined to think of my sister and i’s relationship. we’re about six years apart, no siblings in between. we love each other a lot, but we don’t see each other a whole lot, because we’re just in super different parts of our lives. i don’t live with her, but i’ll crash on her couch every once in a while. i don’t see her often. i am excited to see her when she visits.

so like, i think sonic did raise tails, in a sense. i think sonic probably took care of him when they first started hanging out and tails was literally just four years old. but sonic’s independent by nature and older by a good chunk of years, and i don’t really think he’d actually enjoy taking care of someone. sonic CARES and loves tails but i would not say he’s a nurturer, and he doesn’t want to be tied down. so once tails got a workshop, assumedly around sonic adventure (at least, a stable one), sonic ditched. i don’t think the two of them live together. sonic’s literally homeless and loves to wander the world for like, months on end. i don’t think sonic and tails do chores together. i don’t think sonic’s at tails’s workshop for long periods of time. maybe to crash on his couch and read a book every once in a while.

sonic visits, yeah, but i also think there’s just long periods of time where they don’t see each other. early sonic games from adventure to the “dark” era of sonic games indicate they don’t see each other for long periods of time (”long time no see!”) and when they do see each other, its often because of a new scheme from eggman or a danger to the world. like, sonic 06- they didn’t even plan on meeting each other, they just happened to cross paths.

i don’t know if this particularly makes sense. i just don’t really see them being particularly domestic together. neither of them are conventional people, and sonic especially is the type to enjoy alone time and adventuring; tails is a little more inclined to stay in place so he can work on his new machines, traveling usually for research or to help sonic. they’ve got different motivations and hobbies so i think they don’t actually spend a lot of time together. it’s probably similar to how much time sonic and knuckles spend together, since knuckles is almost always stuck on angel island with the master emerald.

(plus, if we consider the timeline sega’s been trying to tell us, where every game seems to happen in the span of a year, and tails has always been eight and sonic’s always been 15, or something similar, where tails isn’t a literal toddler when they meet, i really don’t see them doing anything domestic together at all. sonic’s always on the road and tails is off doing inventing or occasionally helping sonic out. if tails wasn’t four-ish when they meet, i don’t really think sonic would... like, take care of him the same way a “parent” would. amy rents her own house in station square, and she’s like twelve. it seems to be the norm, at least in our perspective, that young mobians are allowed to be left to their own devices; like, we still don’t know what’s up with charmy and the chaotix. sure, he could ahve been adopted by vector i suppose, or are his parents just super chill with him hanging out with a bunch of detectives? lmao. and besides, tails is a pretty smart cookie. he really can take care of himself, and sonic would just leave him be since he seems “old enough”, at least in the sonic world, to do so.)

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 1: These Devilish Intentions

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Matthew told her no one would ever want her after what he did to her. He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Word Count: 4,621

Notes: Warnings for depictions of smut and references to past sexual assault. Also Tommy being the biggest softy when it comes to his girl.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 8: Dancing with the Devil

“Ha! I win!” she set her cards down on the table, leaning back smugly. Tommy snorted, the amusement for once unhidden in his eyes as he scooped up her cards and dealt another hand.

The celebrations at the Garrison were in full swing, laughter and the clinking of glasses thundering throughout the pub. Even Polly seemed to be enjoying herself, her serious features relaxed into a laugh as she listened to John ramble drunkenly. At one point, Arthur leapt up onto the bar, glass of whiskey sloshing. 

“To the Red Demon!” he bellowed out, swaying so dangerously on his feet Lucy was worried he would fall off the bar. Around him, the other Blinders shouted out in agreement, raising their glasses. Scrunching down into her seat, her cheeks burned at the sudden attention.

She was just beginning to grow rather tired, the noise from the party starting to get to her, when Tommy had taken her gently by the arm and shepherded her into the snug, where it was quieter and more secluded from the drunk shouting and shattering of glasses. They busied themselves playing hand after hand of cards, sipping on glasses of whiskey and talking.

A glance through the half open door greeted her with the sight of John sitting in a booth, head in his hands. Polly was rubbing at his back while he cried, clutching a photograph to his chest.

“Is John alright?”

Tommy glanced over his shoulder at his brother and sighed. “Yeah. That just happens sometimes when he’s drunk. It’ll pass. Polly’s got him.”

“What’s he crying about?”

“Martha, probably.”

“His dead wife?”

“Yeah.”

“What was she like?”

He hesitated a moment. “She was nice. A whole hell of a lot sweeter than the rest of us. She and John met while they were in school. When we were kids all he’d go on about was wanting to settle down with her. I think he was more invested in their wedding preparations than she was.”

“I suppose that’s rather sweet. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“You don’t ever want to get married?” there was no judgment in his voice, just quiet curiosity.

“Nah,” she rubbed at the back of her neck. “Don’t think that I’m cut out for it, to be honest with you. I’d rather be riding horses and getting shot at than spend the rest of my life staying at home, cleaning the house, cooking meals, taking care of children. I wouldn’t be much good at any of that stuff anyway. Too restless, I guess. Bored easily. At school I could never sit still; got my ass beat by the nuns several times for fidgeting.”

“You were engaged.”

“Not like I had much choice in the matter,” she sniffed. “You know I never once lied to either of them about how I felt about the whole thing. Never gave any indication that I was going to go through with it. I think that Matthew thought he could mold me into what he wanted me to be. He wants what he can’t have. When I rejected him, it only made him more convinced that he had to have me.”

“None of it was your fault.”

“I know that,” her scars ached, mind swimming, uncertain if she wanted to keep talking about it or not. Her eyes narrowed at the cards he had played out onto the table. “If I find out later that you’ve been letting me win I’ll be furious,” The smirk he gave her in response revealed just the beginnings of a dimple in his cheeks. Eyes falling back to her cards, she attempted to hide a yawn behind her hand.

“You tired?” 

“Yeah,” she rubbed her eyes. He examined her for a moment before setting his cards down and standing.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t want to finish the game?” even as she spoke she set her own cards down, standing to get her coat.

“Nah. It was a shitty hand anyway.”

Giggling, she pulled her hat on and followed him towards the front doors. “Won’t they notice that we’ve left?”

Tommy glanced over the gaggle of drunken men in the pub. “I’m pretty sure that they wouldn’t notice if the fucking pope walked in, love.”

The moment they stepped outside, her arms wrapped around herself, trying to shield her from the chill in the air as they began to walk. 

The card game had been a welcome distraction from the unending stress weighing on her mind since reading her father’s letters. A jitteriness had settled into her bones that had her jumping at shadows, head swiveling at the smallest of sounds. But having Tommy close helped. Nothing could truly touch her so long as he was nearby. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Tired.”

“You’ve done well,” he said after a moment. Lucy hummed. 

“I’m glad to know that my work has been of satisfaction.”  

Tommy chuckled, scratching at his nose. She could have sworn that he moved closer to her, so that their sides were almost brushing. Growing quiet, she glanced down at her feet. At her pair of shiny, lace-up oxfords. They were easily the nicest pair of shoes that she’d ever owned.

“Your brothers are going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Maybe. Arthur will be alright. John’s the one who will have to go home to four rowdy children.”

“When the hell did John find the time to have four kids anyway?” 

“Fuck if I know. But you know what it’s like. When you’re young and in love,” he wrinkled his nose. “He and Martha were terrible. We could hardly leave them alone for two seconds and they’d be fucking against the nearest horizontal surface.”

Lucy laughed quietly, shaking her head. “I guess I wouldn't know.” 

Tommy’s head snapped around to look at her incredulously. “Never?”

She shrugged, a little helplessly. Tommy seemed to be utterly stunned. 

“You’ve never fucked anyone before?”

Her cheeks burned as she blushed. “Well, there was Matthew and his friends in the alley–”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Then I guess not,” she suddenly felt very self conscious. “It was all but impossible, with my dad almost always around, looking over my shoulder…”

“You don’t have to explain.”

She shot him a grateful look. But now that the box had been opened she seemed unable to stop her thoughts from pouring out. “Even after he left for France, I swear I could always feel his presence around me. His eyes watching me for any signs of…indecency. Even miles away, the thought of his rage if he ever found out terrified me. Kept me from misbehaving too much while he was away.”

“I guess I always thought of you as a troublemaker.”

“Oh, I got into trouble,” she smirked. “Just not the kind where I wound up on my back,” she thought for a moment. “Except that time a mare I stole from a nearby stable threw me off her.”

“You stole a horse?”

“They were beating her! Not that she showed much gratitude for the rescue,” she grumbled. “I had a bruise the size of an apple on my back for two weeks,” her shoulders tensed at a clatter from a nearby alley, but a glance in that direction revealed the sound to have been caused by a simple drunk. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“You ever know what it was like to be young and in love?” there was a long silence. “Tommy?”

“Before France. Her parents didn’t like me, so we would sneak out to the canal to be together,” he coughed, looking down at his shoes. “Her name was Greta.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died. Consumption,” it was clear from his voice that he didn’t want to discuss it much further.

“I’m sorry,” there wasn’t much else she could think to say. Tommy grunted in response. Teeth pulling at her bottom lip, she weighed in her mind whether or not to continue with the topic. “What about Lizzie?”

Tommy’s brow furrowed, genuine confusion crossing his features. “What about her?”

Lucy shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know if maybe…”

“Lizzie’s just a whore, Lucy,” Tommy said simply, brow still furrowed, like the idea that the tall woman could be anything more had never even crossed his mind.

Lucy opened her mouth to respond, but closed it. They had reached the door to her flat. Pulling her keys from her pocket, she hesitated a moment after sliding them into the door. The cool air made her shiver. Tommy frowned, reaching out to rub his hands up and down her arms.

“You should get inside.” 

“Do you want to come up?” the question passed her lips before she had much time to think about it. He raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you were tired.”

She shrugged non-committedly. Something twitched in his face, mind clearly working behind his eyes.

“If you want me to.”

Nodding, she pushed the door open and led him upstairs to her little room, shedding her hat and jacket to hang them on the hooks near the door, Tommy following her movements. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice the way that her hands trembled. He had been in her flat before; but there was something in the air between them that hadn’t been there before.

“It’s strange to think of myself as I was then. Before everything happened.”

“What do you mean?”

Shoulders shrugging, she reached out to absentmindedly straighten a painting on the wall.

“I had all these plans and ideas for what I was going to do with my life. After my dad and brothers were sent to France, I got a job as a stable girl. I was making my own money. I was beginning to consider the possibility that I could someday leave. Start to actually live my life on my own terms. There’s a part of me that wishes my father didn’t come back,” she admitted softly. “I was so hopeful…and then he came back and he pushed Matthew onto me and tore it all to pieces,” a sudden feeling of fury washed over her. Fury over the shame and fear that those two men had burdened her with. 

Tommy reached out a hand, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb traced over her bottom lip as she gazed up at him.

“The idea of living…excited me. I miss feeling like that.”

The breath that left Tommy’s lungs shuddered, eyes fixed on her lips. She swallowed hard.

“Sometimes I feel like they ruined me,” she didn’t even mean her chastity; that had never been something that she held much value for. Instead she spoke of her mind, broken and twisted, or her body, marred by scars that still ached from time to time with phantom pain.   

Tommy shook his head, the hand not caressing her face going to her waist. “That’s not true.”

“I know. Or…most of the time I do, anyway. Sometimes I still hear the things that they said to me, echoing in my head.”  

She may not be interested in the prospect of marriage, but that didn’t mean that she wanted to spend the rest of her life alone. Under her father’s roof there’d been no chance at any sort of promiscuous behavior, but she’d often dreamed of the day she would escape his influence and would finally have the chance or gorge herself on the pleasures life had to offer.

Fuck them for what they had done to her.

She wanted so badly to silence their voices. To quash the feeling, however fleeting, of disgust when she looked at her scarred body in the mirror.  

“What do they tell you?” Tommy pulled her closer to him, until their chests were brushing each other.

“They say I’m dirtied. That I’m worthless. That no one will ever want me.”

He was shaking his head, hand stroking her face. She moved a fraction closer to him, his warmth all around her, palms planted flat against his chest.

“They couldn’t be more wrong.”

“I don’t want to listen to them anymore,” foreheads brushing, he all but nuzzled against her, hand smoothing along her back. “You make me feel safe.”

“Good.” 

All she did was tilt her head ever so slightly upwards, and their lips brushed against each other. Tommy kissed her softly, the hand on her back holding her close while the one on her face fell to her waist. Lucy’s own hands fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him down more urgently to her. Practically purring at her eagerness, his head tilted to deepen their kisses. He didn’t seem to be put off by her clumsy and inexperienced movements, only cradling her closer. Hands moving from where they clutched at his shirt, she grasped the front of his suit jacket, shoving it off of his shoulders to the floor. Tommy groaned, stroking her jaw while her arms wound around his neck. Their noses bumped but that didn’t stop them, kisses still soft but growing more fevered and hungry. Her head spun as his lips moved from hers to press along her cheek and jaw, tickling over her neck, ghosting over the shell of her ear. 

“Lucy…Lucy, are you sure? I need you to tell me that you’re sure,” the sound of his baritone, so close to her ear, sent a shudder of warmth down her spine. When had he removed her waistcoat? She didn't even notice until the heat from his palms seeped through the thin material of her shirt.

“Yes,” she tangled her fingers in his hair, thighs clenching together at the growl that rumbled in his chest when her nails scratched over his scalp. “Yes, I’m sure.”

His hands slid from where they’d been resting against her ribs to her ass, lifting her up onto his hips and carrying her the short distance to the bed, laying her down slowly against the pillows. He straightened long enough to remove his waistcoat and the shirts layered beneath it. Redness flared in her cheeks as she allowed herself a moment to admire him, all strong muscle and soft, freckled skin. A tattoo encircling his left pec. She was aware that she was all but drooling, but couldn’t bring herself to care much, even as he noticed her ogling and shot her a cocky smirk. Hands reaching out to him desperately, she drew him back to her, body hovering over hers.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, kissing him again. Tommy chuckled against her lips, bed creaking as he situated himself into a more comfortable position on top of her, growling again when she dug her nails into his back. When his fingers brushed along the buttons of her shirt she stiffened, a stab of anxiety fluttering over her at the thought of someone else seeing her scars. Tommy pulled back to look at her, still close enough for his long lashes to tickle her cheeks.

“Still okay?”

Looking into his eyes helped to ground her, the light blue nearly engulfed by the darkness of his pupils. She was alright; she was safe. Tommy wouldn’t hurt her. She forced herself to swallow her fear, to ignore the beginning chant of cruel voices in her head.

“Yeah.”

The first button popped open, Tommy’s head dipping to press a kiss to the newly revealed skin as he slowly opened each button of her shirt.

“Don’t listen to them,” he murmured, lips caressing over a scar that ran from the bottom of her breast over her ribcage. “You listen to me,” another kiss was pressed to a small scar near her belly button. “You’re beautiful. I want you.”

She sat up slightly so he could push her shirt fully off her shoulders and toss it to the floor, her own fingers undoing her bra and shedding that as well. Large hands squeezing her breasts, his mouth returned to devour hers, kisses growing more and more urgent. Hips dropping into hers, he rolled them forward, bulge rubbing against her. A startled moan exploded from her lips at the movement, hands scabbling at his shoulders, hips rising in a silent plea for a repeat of the motion. Tommy seemed all too happy to oblige, humping forward against her again with a groan.

“Fuck. Okay,” he fumbled with her belt, undoing her pants as he began to kiss down her body again, breath shuddering in her lungs as his tongue swiped over one of her nipples. “Lift your hips for me, love,” he mumbled into her skin. Hips raising, she helped him to pull off and kick away her trousers and remaining undergarments, fighting the urge to hide beneath the covers at being fully exposed to him. Frowning, she pouted when he didn’t return to hovering above her, instead resituating her legs, hooking her thighs over his shoulders.

“What are you–ohhhhhh,” she let out a sound she had never heard herself make before, head falling back against the pillows while a hand clenched in Tommy’s hair. He snickered, hands stroking her thighs as he swiped his tongue over her clit again. With quick, careful movements, he began to work her over with his tongue while she moaned and tried to push him even closer. A whine left her lips when he pulled back, eyes batting up at her innocently, temptingly.

“Why’d you stop?” she slurred, the hand clenched in his hair moving to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing along his slick lips. Leaning into her touch like a cat, Tommy’s features twitched, affection clear as day on his face.

“Can I put my fingers inside of you?”

She wasn’t sure if her flushed cheeks were a result of being flustered or aroused at the question, barely managing a small nod.

“Yes.”

Head dipping back down again, Lucy sighed in ecstasy, in relief, as he pressed his lips back to her clit. One hand continued to cradle her thigh while the other slid between her legs.

“Gentle,” she gasped out, another bout of nerves hitting her, though with his mouth between her legs it was hard to pay them much mind. Nodding, he pulled back, nuzzling at a scar on her inner thigh.

“I’m going to be so gentle with you, love,” he promised. She shivered as a single thick finger sunk into her, crooking as he resumed his ministrations with his tongue. Moans continued to bubble from her throat, head tilted back as one hand grasped at Tommy’s hair, the other fisting in the sheets beneath her. Her voice only raised an octave when he added a second finger, pumping faster as he spread her open.

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” she choked out. He just purred in answer, the vibrations doing wonderful things to her clit. Back arching, she all but wailed as she came, thighs clenching around his head as she gasped. 

Lapping at her until she was pushing his head away from overstimulation, Tommy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he crawled back up her body to kiss her. She could taste the remaining tang of herself on his lips, arms looping around his shoulders. For a moment, his hands cupped her cheeks before falling down to undo his pants, kicking them off along with his undergarments.

Chancing a glance down, her eyes widened in a way she had to imagine was at least somewhat comical. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell was that going to fit inside her?

Tommy’s thumb rubbed her cheek, quietly demanding her attention.

“Do you want to stop?”

She was shaking her head before he even got the question out, pulling him back down for another kiss. “No.”

His eyes examined hers shrewdly, nodding as he reached down to stroke himself. She squeaked when in one sudden movement he rolled them so that she was on top of him, thighs straddling his hips, both of them shuddering when his erection brushed against her entrance.

“Tommy, I don’t know what I’m doing–”

“It’s okay,” he said as he lined himself up, rising so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. “I’ll help you.”

She anchored herself on his powerful shoulders, his cock kissing her entrance but not penetrating her yet. Tommy rested his forehead against hers, arms wrapping fully around her. He kissed her nose.

“We stop whenever you want to.”

Nodding, a shuddering gasp left her lips as slowly, carefully, he began to push inside her.

He felt even bigger than he looked, stretching her so wide she thought that he might split her in two. But Tommy held her cradled tightly to him, kisses planted on her neck. She was wet enough from his previous actions that he glided into her easily. And every time he felt her starting to tense he stopped, rubbing circles into her back and nuzzling at her until she relaxed.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned once he was fully seated within her, head falling to rest on her shoulder for a moment before lifting it to check on her. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” she shook her head and he stretched up to kiss her. When she shifted her hips, ever so slightly, he growled and she giggled, earning herself a playful pinch to the hip. Arms wrapped around his neck, hands clinging to his shoulders, she gave an experimental bounce, and felt more than she heard his moan from where his face was pressed against her neck as he rewarded her with a tiny, answering thrust.

“Yeah, like that,” he breathed out, hands planting firmly on her waist to help support her as they started to move. Lucy’s brow furrowed with concentration, focusing on trying to keep her balance and the tempo of their thrusts.

“Go slow,” Tommy kissed her temple. “You’re doing good,” his breath caught a bit at the end of his sentence, as her movements began to grow more confident. The pace remained slow, but the thrusts were growing harder, more needy. Tommy lifted his head so that he could watch her face, and the look in his eyes nearly knocked her off balance. Those blue orbs were unmistakably aroused, but there was something else, a staggering softness, a near adoration, that left her stunned. She brushed away some of his dark fringe that had fallen into his eyes, his lashes fluttering at the movement, face leaning into her touch. Maybe…

Pressing her chest more fully against his, she sighed as she rubbed her hands along his torso, feeling the muscles ripple beneath her fingers. His cock twitched when she traced over that tattoo surrounding his pec, ghosting over his nipple with her thumb. A vulnerability shivered across his face as he watched her appraise him.

“Is it okay that it’s me?”

Her eyes darted back to him in shock at the sudden…unsurety in his voice, like he expected her to say no.

A ridiculous thought. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him.

The need to comfort, to reassure spread over her heart, a want to soothe the eternally sad look in his eyes. Tightening her arms around him she kissed him as softly as she knew how.

“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

His entire face softened, features relaxing, the thrusts that had ceased at his question picking back up again, hips bucking with more urgency while he cradled her face and kissed her like he was suffocating and she was air. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good, love,” he promised, moans already leaving her lips as they began to fuck in earnest, bedframe creaking. With his arms around her he helped to lift and lower her onto his cock, their skin slapping together, bodies entangling.  

“Tommy,” she gasped out. “Fuck. So big, so big,” that massive cock rubbed against a patch of nerves inside her that made her moan and babble wantonly. All it took was a few more well aimed strokes, and she was clawing at his back, all nervousness or self consciousness gone as she started riding him with abandon, his hips rolling up to meet her every thrust.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” Tommy’s hands were all over her, groping greedily at her breasts, palming at her back. “Can I touch your hair?”

The question took her by surprise for a moment. But of course. Of course he had noticed her aversion to having her hair tugged.

“No pulling,” she said and he nodded, hand sliding up her back and into her hair, just letting the strands pass through his fingers without yanking. Lucy sighed, head tipping backwards into his palm. He suddenly readjusted her slightly in his lap, and she wasn’t sure what exactly he did, but on the next forward snap of his hips she was howling in pleasure.

“Lucy,” the way he said her name, with such utter reverence, had a shudder going through her, his thumb rubbing at her clit.

“Please,” she didn’t even know what she was asking him for.

“I know, I know,” he began to kiss her again, greedily swallowing each of her moans. She was so close…so close…

He put a little more pressure on her clit, and she was done for, crying out his name as she clamped down hard on his cock, trembling through her orgasm. Tommy clutched her tightly to him.

“That’s my girl. That’s my girl. Come here,” he squeezed her to his chest, fucking her through it, thrusts slow and so deep she was sure she could feel him in her belly. His cock was beginning to throb so hard she would plainly feel it, pulsing with every deep plunge into her. A final, impossibly deep thrust home and he let out a massive growling moan, holding himself in place as his cock twitched and then throbbed powerfully. The sudden wave of warmth as his load pumped into her made Lucy answer with a moan of her own. Tommy’s head drooped to rest against her shoulder, body relaxing against hers as he orgasmed.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, still clinging to each other tightly while panting. Tommy stroked Lucy’s hair, nuzzling at her shoulder before finally shifting, pulling out of her and maneuvering them both so that they were laying on their sides, under the covers. She cuddled up to his chest, his skin so warm she doubted that she even really needed the blankets to keep the chill away when she was pressed up against him the way she was. Wrapping an arm around her, Tommy hugged her close, kissing her forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, curling around her as he got comfortable in the bed.

“Yeah,” she slipped an arm around his waist, head resting against his pecs, the smattering of hair on his chest tickling her cheek. “Thank you.”

“You really don’t have to thank me, love,” he chuckled, brushing some hair out of her face, expression unbearably soft as he looked at her.

“What?”

“I think you might be the prettiest person that I’ve ever seen.”

She let out an undignified squeak and buried her burning face into his chest. “Stop making me blush.”

He laughed, chest vibrating with the sound, hand falling from her face to join the other around her. His cheek rested against the top of her head. She squeezed the arm she had looped around him.

“I’m glad that I have you.”

Leaning his head down, he kissed her with a softness that made her want to cry, chuckling when they parted and she promptly yawned. 

“Go to sleep, love.”

“You’ll still be here?”

Pulling her even closer, he tangled her legs with his.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

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Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

[jenyifer]

Boston deserves his “friends” back (this is the BostonMew portion)

Mew it’s finally your turn to hop in the brain soup pot with our Chaos boy Boston. No drowning allowed.

Disclaimer: the reason I don’t talk about Mew is because he reminds me of my ex. I don’t want to go into deep detail because it’s not necessary. However I think it colors my world against Mew in general. But I’m going to talk about Boston’s relationship towards him.

Boston and Mew both have this photo and I think this is an indication that to both of them their friends are their Chosen family. There isn’t a photo of Mew and his moms next to this. There isn’t a photo of Boston and his mother or father he does have a little Statue of Liberty but that’s about it. I believe to both Mew and Boston their bonds with the other friends feel alot deeper than acquaintances. Mew depends on Boston to drive everyone home. Mew and Cheum can’t drive and Ray is a drunk. Mew also likes to have Boston about to live vicariously then judge. I think mew did enjoy Bostons persona. Boston did love Mew. He didn’t want Top to sleep with him initially. Boston wanted Top again not for Top to take Boston’s “sweet virgin” friend. Boston tells Top when things fall apart Boston will be there for Mew. Boston also tries telling Top not to get Mew too drunk.

Wont it benefit Boston for Mew to be drunk? Make it easier for Boston to steal Top. Speaking of that I know you are saying no friend would fuck their buddies boyfriend. But I’m going to make some assumptions about their friendship buckle up Boston is Besties with Ray and I feel like they have been friends longer maybe it’s just because Boston takes care of Ray from time to time but for this let’s say BostonRay are old friends. When Mew and Cheum joined their friend group Mew immediately started passive aggressively started judging Boston tries to get him to change. To Boston this is fun. He’s never going to sleep with Mew but he likes a game. Boston likes the competition with Mew it allows him to play like Mew is his annoying older brother. When Top chooses Mew over Boston things get a little too real and Boston second guesses himself. On top of all of that Bostons own emotions are…. Strange because he’s been sleeping with the same guy and not getting bored of Nick. I think this also pushed him to want to get plowed by Top. Sleeping with top was to boost his own confidence and hopefully speed up the inevitable breakup of Top and Mew so Boston can comfort Mew and have their group go back to normal. But this failed. So Boston tried to pretend that him and top never happened because it’s embarrassing and Bostons feelings for Nick are increasing.

I think from Mew’s stand point he had trusted Boston to some extent. He gives Top a dating time limit after Boston told him Top hasn’t dated anymore for more than 3 months. Mew also probably thought Boston does approve of Top since he brought Top to work on the hostel. Mew does care about Boston more than Ray I think because of him also considering Boston part of his chosen family. He is hardcore pushing for BostonNick to happen more so than Sand even. Mew wants BostonNick to happen because Nick is useful and sweet. Mew can see a future where TopMew BostonNick go on dates because Boston will always be part of Mew’s life whether Boston wants it or not.

When Mew used Nick he 100% knew what he was doing. What could hurt Boston the most? Using someone who had melted that outer shell to find out secret details about Boston. Mew KNEW what Boston had told them about Nick was a fucking lie. Usually Boston nails and bails but Nick was special so the perfect tool for Mew to manipulate. Nick was the only person who knew Nick better than Mew in mews mind.

I think Mew was incredibly hurt by Top specifically cheating with Boston because Mew had viewed Boston as his brother who at the end of the day did care about Mew, Ray, & Cheum. Even after Mew gets his revenge on Boston and blackmails him back into his friend group it’s not the same. Boston is held at arms length.

Not even supposed to go a party being thrown by his friends Boston is just there to be controlled put away because Mew only needs Boston in his “friend” role as man for Mew to judge. I do find it interesting Boston doesn’t attack Mew here. He just quietly leaves then Runs upstairs to see Ray when shit goes down. Boston cares about his friends still he misses them. I think he’s hoping eventually Mew will forgive him. That he will have been punished enough to be apart of the family again. But if ep9 and preview of ep10 are anything to judge by Mew and Ray are going to continue to be shit “friends” until Boston makes it up to them. Only going to get more complicated if Atom speaks out about him hooking up with Boston. I do hope Nick helps get Boston back with his friends. I want chosen family date nights to be a thing all 8 of them.

I hope that soup made sense and I wasn’t too mean to Mew. Let me know though.

[p5x-theories]

Thoughts: P5X and P5T

Like Strikers, Tactica introduces two new party members.  Unlike Strikers, the new characters aren’t proper Phantom Thieves.  That isn’t a bad thing, but it does raise questions for how they’ll be handled if they come to P5X as Phantom Idols.

Toshiro is a Persona user, but he doesn’t have a Metaverse outfit.  And he has a mask, but it only appears long enough to be ripped off.  Erina is very explicitly not a Persona user.  Neither character received a codename.

If these characters come to P5X they could provide a blueprint for how other potential Phantom Idols are handled.

If Toshiro receives an outfit and codename that he didn’t have in the game that introduced him it seems likely that the same thing would happen to other Persona users that don’t have such things, but if he’s just Toshiro that would indicate that they don’t want to stray too far from existing depictions.

And how would Erina be handled?  Would they give the Idol version of her a Persona II that the original version didn’t have?  Would they emphasize her flag as a substitute?  Or would they say that she still doesn’t need one at all?

But regardless of how they’re handled I want them to come to P5X so they can have models in the same style as the rest of the cast.

Completely agree! Especially with that last point- as much as I enjoyed the P5T art style, it’d be really nice for them to have models that both match the main game’s style and also like... make it more clear how old Toshiro is... actually supposed to be, haha? I guess he has to be at least 25 (or 30) depending on what part of the National Diet he was actually in, but I feel like part of the “pops” nickname effect is kind of lost when the art style barely makes him look older than the Phantom Thieves and Erina, even if they had a different look for him in high school.

That aside, addressing the actual meat of what you’re saying here, personally my hope would be that they do actually give him an outfit and codename! It felt like such a cop-out to me that he didn’t get one. But as you said, it would probably set a standard for any other characters they bring in to P5X who lack outfits + codenames to get one, and I’m not sure that, for instance, the previous games’ casts really need that. So I guess it’s hard to say.

As for Erina, like you brought up, she’s a totally different category. I feel like it’d make the most sense for her not to be her own unit, and instead just be Toshiro’s Persona (or maybe an alternate “version” of Toshiro, like you’ve suggested in other posts, ex. for Akechi’s outfits, if they really want her to be “playable” herself)? But they could really go any way with her, I think, and we don’t have anyone else to possibly reference for how she might be handled right now (Ryoji in P3 might be the closest, since he’s also a weird situation where he can be a separate person with a personality, but turns into Thanatos at will to show P3′s protag once he gets his memories back, and- well, anyway, he’s not in P5X at the moment either, haha.)

[alena-reblobs]

Trigun Bookclub Trimax Vol2 Part 1

Vol01: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Vol02: Part 1 | Part 2

Trimax: Vol01 Part 1 Vol01 Part 2 | Vol02 Part 1 Vol02 Part 2

My thoughts on Trimax Vol02! Not so much deep art or thoughts analysis in this one :)

I wonder if the name has any meaning to it? As far as I understood this is the mansion where Legato and his henchmen are hiding, so I wonder if there’s anything to that name. Now what I found just now was that there is a musician by that name who apparently made two songs, one called “My Only True Love” and “I’m Coming Back from Viet Nam”, but no chance to listen to them. Interesting, I guess.

Joke: Midvalley must be playing really bad if that’s his audience’s reaction

It’s also cool to note that Gauntlet is trying to warn the men about Legato, that they should get away! He might hold no sympathy for them but he also doesn’t wish for their ugly demise that’s inevitable when Legato steps in.

Oh this whole chapter is SO yucky and bleugh and evil but the most evil thing is this panel right here. Sometimes the horrors that aren’t shown are the most horrifying ones.

Vaaash ♥ Every time our boy is remotely smiling I want to pet his head and boop his nose and hold him close.

Maybe I’ve overlooked smth during my first two reads or misunderstood smth but dear ma’am, who are you?? My only theory is probably nonsense. Or maybe it’s just some extra being controlled by Legato to help him move around?

I couldn’t resist. I need to make fun of Legato every time I see him.

Nick looks really cute with these glasses. Also good for you, Wolfie, getting to drive such a pretty boy in your sidecar!

The killing game? I thought they were only meant to bring Vash neverending und unbearable suffering? (Though Vash can’t know that)

Lovely use of the soundwords again!!

And this one! Also cool how the swoooshing of the blade is indicated with this white space. Black outlining and then a light shading...hmhm (taking notes)

Aah I love it when one part of the face is covered in darkness, showing mostly the eye. It’s so looming and effective. Actually, now I do wonder if this is something that’s still used in nowadays mangas or not? I don’t read lots of mangas atm and only one other shounen, so I’m pretty out of the loop how manga style has evolved (of course everybody has their own style but in general, I think you can often see if a series is older or newer. I NEED to analyise what specifics do give that away because that’s pretty interesting)

I think this is the first time it’s kinda directly stated that Vash is not human, isn’t it? Just smth interesting to note I think.

Ooh we all know you’re also thinking about you and your own sinful existence, Wolfie.

I really like this page and especially the left panel! The ground is so utterly devoid of any details, apart from the sand clouds and the lines that the roller blades have left. I really enjoy how Nightow keeps mostly to lineart without using lots of shading in the clothes, that’s a thing he does mostly in the faces the enhance expressions as far as I could tell.

Gotta agree with Wolfwood on this, Vash is being a bit naive. He makes it sound so easy, so much so that it could be understood as an insult to all the suffering that Rai-Dei had to endure, to the way that his life is now. I mean it’s not the case but it does sound like Vash doesn’t want to know or hear about Rai-Dei’s crimes, by saying it “doesn’t matter”. All in all it is understandable that it only fuels Rai-Dei’s anger.

I love pages where it’s no sound, only little snippets of action taking place, with different perspectives.

[nightlet]

Recap and thoughts.

TS4 base game is free-to-play as of today. Personally not too pressed about this, though it would’ve been nice to get more than just a kit as compensation for long-time players. But if it gives people who’ve been holding back or couldn’t otherwise get the game a chance, cool.

Upcoming content, including two expansions. Tbh I don’t know the frequency of the deliveries up until now, but hopefully they uphold their claim of monthly updates because that’d be nice. Don’t care about upcoming kits, but Phil mentions two expansions in the works.

If these images are any indication as to what’s coming, I’m guessing a proper generations-style EP? Something to expand on the groundwork laid with Parenthood and focus on other life stages would be fantastic. Basing this idea more off of the right image with the kid on the bike and the baby backpack thing.

NEW. WHAT. 300 new kits? Knowing EA, probably. And then we hear a little baby cry, which is expanded on later.

Insert segment where someone asks strangers on the street what they think of the sims.

Steam-workshop-esque platform for mods. Bit of a love/hate feeling with this. It does kinda feel like an attempt to control the modding community. Because it’s going to be ultimately be controlled by the devs, there’s going to be plenty of mods that won’t be welcome on the platform. HOWEVER. If they can make it to be console-friendly, that’d be a great move. Odds are it won’t be, but a girl can dream.

“Maxis invented the life simulation genre.” Sounding a little insecure there. Cities:Skylines shake ya guys? Not feeling threatened by Paralives, are ya? Lol. “We’re not content to sit still.” LMAO. Ok, ok. sure.

Insert segment with a singer and then some dancers with a simlish cover. Chat replay is just “tomato tomato tomato” yikes.

Insert segment with sim gurus using freeplay sims as avatars. Freeplay sims are getting a facelift, also yachts? And a seasonal quest coming later this year.

Mobile is getting balconies.

Insert segment highlighting various creators. YES that is happening. Coulda used some Jim Pickens though.

Could it be? Is it TS5? Is it a spinoff?

The modular editing is something that Paralives had shown off very early on too, and was probably what really got me interested in their project. It’s something that, along with CASt, really gives some much needed freedom with the game and, let’s face it, would let devs get away with a lot less assets while still offering SO many more customizing choices.

So CASt will be making a return in their new game, both my dream and nightmare because I suck at it lol.

It does kinda sound like they’re hinting at a multiplayer option, which does scare me a little. I’ve said it before, but single player should come first in a game like this. I don’t hate on the idea of adding in multiplayer, but I’d hate if it ends up feeling like a game that’s MEANT to be played with others.

The cross-compatibility aspect is kinda interesting. Don’t hate it, but also unsure of how well it’ll work or if it’ll end up limiting the game to the capabilities of mobiles.

TS4 is getting real babies in 2023. Personally, babies are not high on my list. Toddlers have been anxiety-inducing enough and at the rate I’m going on my 100 baby challenge, I’m gonna have to deal with these for a good final portion of it which is scary. But I know it’s been a huge deal for a big part of the community, so congrats guys. Looks like the babies are finally being freed from their teeny tiny prisons. Though really this looks like a toddler to me so hopefully there’s enough of a difference.

And finally,

[crystalelemental]

"megazardx2: Oh, so you do know and you don’t like it! I actually kind of did…Guess that tracks! I was hoping things would turn out a bit different this time, but whatevs; let’s just go with the expected route! And Welp, Kieran’s plot continues into The Indigo Disk, so I hope you enjoy disliking that part, too! I’m rather salty."

Salty about the DLC, or salty I don't seem to like it? Either way, fair. There are some aspects I enjoy, but most of it kinda missed its mark. I expect Indigo Disk will do better, since it allegedly connects more to Area Zero which was the strength of this game, but we'll see.

As for the story...if you want more, it's under the cut. But I know this is going to be a point of disagreement, so it might just be fuel on the fire.

I can already tell people are going to really like Kieran. My wife really likes him. I don't hate him, but I'm not having the same response I know others are.

I do get it, I swear I get it. Day 1, your sister, who is abrasive but genuinely seems to care about you, sets you up to spend time with the new player you took a connection to, and it's super exciting! You don't make friends well and you're super excited to have this little adventure and this connection where maybe they even indicate they understand your way of thinking! And then day 2 said sister pulls you aside and suddenly they're going around without you on some adventure. And they don't tell you about having met the ogre, and they don't tell you about the story your grandfather told you about, and this person you thought you connected with now suddenly seems really emotionally far from you and you don't really understand why. And that hurts and it sucks and you're mad at them for seemingly turning on you, and you're mad at your sister for shifting on a dime from setting you up with this person to suddenly taking them for herself, and you're mad at your grandfather for not telling you the truth about the ogre that you liked. I get it. I get why you're mad, I swear I do.

Being mad at me (player character) is unreasonable. Kieran, buddy, I'm sorry you latched onto the idea that we were super best friends forever deluxe, but I have known you a total of less than 24 hours. I was asked, by your grandfather, not to spread this story, because of the chaos it could cause socially if we tried. I am an outsider. I have no stake in any of this. If I am told "it is bad for our village if we try to tell people this," I am going to then not tell anyone. Even you, person I have a budding friendship with but not any long-lasting reason to be willing to defy such a request for.

If I'm being especially critical, it's the issue the whole game has of not really wanting to engage with what exactly its characters dealt with. "They were bullied/were outcasts" is a nice broad sentiment to evoke sympathy, but I have zero context for what that looks like. What I do have context for is Team Star grunts talking about a quota for strong-arming other students into dropping out and joining them even all this time later, and Kieran being very quick to jump to the conclusion that I'm being mean to him for lying when I don't immediately break my promise for him.

I know there's a lot of feelings wrapped up in that. I know there's a history here we aren't going to be privy to. But in absence of it, he comes across as needlessly harsh toward you, in a way that's like...buddy, maybe this is why it's hard to make friends? Maybe you're putting too much expectation on them right away, and get really mad when they're not instantly all-in on your level of friendship devotion? Which is fascinating as a character study! That's really interesting and well-crafted, and I like him in that regard! But I sure don't really like him as a person right now!

Which is probably why I'm so conflicted about the Ogerpon thing. Like yeah, he really identified with the ogre, and you can feel the connection to it as a concept. So on the one hand, it feels almost malicious that all of this ends in beating his ass in a battle then catching it in front of him. But on the other hand, his knowledge of the ogre was wrong, and how much of that connection would actually go well if he's this harsh toward his friend for not sticking to him only. So there is, I suppose like usual, a reason for him not getting it. But it also feels a lot harsher this time than most others. Zinnia-esque, I would say. That's the only other time I can think of where they're so attached to the specific legend, and so ingrained in the culture of it, but it goes to someone completely outside of this culture for little reason other than "is main character."

At this point I'm mostly just rambling. The short is, I don't hate the kid, and I'm fine with him coming back for Indigo Disk if they're continuing development, because there's potential here. My response is just a lot harsher on the kid than I know others will have.

[rosetheex-editor]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the camera in a shirt pocket facing a child, the child is playing a game on a computer seemingly winning. The rest of the room shares colors with the rest of the mall, gray and white.]

?: Are you ever going to let me use my computer?

[Voice identified: Rose Henderson.]

[The child tilts the thumb to the middle, indicating a ‘Maybe.” Rose sighs and sits down on the floor, made obvious by the camera shaking.]

?: When did you even get that? I feel like I woke up one day and it was just… in here. Unless you always had it.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

R: Ness gave me her old computer, I brought it in here with me.

E: Oh, I guess I just… didn’t see it.

R: Probably, ugh Sparrow I need to use my computer eventually y'know.

?: Sí.

[Voice identified: Sparrow.]

R: Edgar help. The child is being impossible…

[The following line of text is translated from French to English.]

Sp: [Muttering.] You're the one being impossible here.

E: Sorry, you’re on your own here, Rosie.

[Rose's breathing hitches, she tosses the phone into Sparrow's wagon. When the camera readjusts the camera is propped up by something seemingly one of Sparrow's legs.]

R: [Whispered.] Don't fucking call me that.

E: [Genuine confusion.] Did I… say something wrong?

[Rose hops up in anger, looking as if someone kicked her cat.]

R: DON'T FUCKING CALL ME ROSIE I DON'T KNOW WHERE THE FUCK YOU HEARD THAT BUT NEVER USE IT AGAIN!

[Edgar slightly flinches away from Rose, eyes wide.]

E: Shit– I… sorry, I didn’t–

R: WHAT MAKES YOU THINK, AFTER I AVOID THAT NICKNAME FOR SO FUCKING LONG I'D WANT TO BE CALLED IT NOW?

E: Rose, I didn’t know! I’m sorry!

R: WHAT SORRY LIKE WHEN YOU LIED ABOUT ADAM CHOKING YOU? SORRY LIKE WHEN YOU LIED ABOUT BEING OK?

[Edgar stands up, his fists and jaw clenched.]

E: You know why I did that. Don’t.

R: NO I DON'T KNOW WHY! I DON'T KNOW WHY BECAUSE YOU NEVER SAY ANYTHING!

E: I’VE BEEN FUCKING TRYING, ROSE. IT’S HARD!

?: Yep I'm out, not listening to people get into a screaming match three days in a fucking row.

[Voice identified: Mari.]

R: YOU STILL LIED! YOU LIED AGAIN AND AGAIN AND A-FUCKING-GAIN.

E: I DID IT BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WOULD KEEP YOU SAFE. IT DIDN’T. BUT I THOUGHT IT WOULD. I DO THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU, ROSE!

R: LIKE ALMOST GETTING YOURSELF KILLED DAY IN DAY FUCKING OUT? BECAUSE YOU GET INTO POINTLESS FIGHTS! THAT'S TO KEEP ME SAFE? YOU DOING SUICIDAL SHIT IS FOR ME?

Sp: You both need to cal-

R: SHUT THE FUCK UP SPARROW!

E: Leave the kid out of this, Rose. And don’t fucking bring that up.

[Rose reaches for a pocket knife and almost jams it into Edgar's leg before stopping, Edgar backs away quickly, an expression of terror on his face, tears begin rolling down Rose’s face.]

Sp: Do not take my knife.

R: Fuck… Fuck…

[Rose drops the knife on the ground, it clatters against the tile floor.]

E: I–

R: I didn't mean to… I’m sorry I… I…

[Edgar glances between Rose and the knife, breathing heavily.]

R: [Whispered.] Ruby… I- I'm sorry… I didn't mean to do it again…

E: Rose, you–

[Rose falls down on the ground, tears streaming from her face. She looks at her hands.]

R: Why is there so much blood… Why why why…

[Edgar takes a few steps forward, not saying anything.]

R: WHY ARE MY HANDS COVERED IN BLOOD!

E: They’re– they’re not. I– what are you…?

Sp: OH.

E: What? What is it?

Sp: Rose's timer for her meds never went off this morning, she is having a hallucination.

E: Shit– what do we do?

Sp: Give her the medicine for one. It's in her bag.

[Edgar nods, and moves to grab it, but he stumbles and falls to the floor.]

R: I stabbed her again… I hurt her again, I fucked up!

[He mouths the word ‘her’ before his eyes widen, and he attempts to stand up to grab the medication.]

R: I'm the reason she's dea-

[Rose coughs, what she coughs up is left out of frame.]

[Edgar fumbles around in Rose’s bag, before pulling out a container and quickly handing it over to Sparrow.]

Sp: Rose you forgot to take your meds.

[Rose doesn't respond, instead just sitting there shaking.]

Sp: Hm.

[Sparrow rolls over to Rose in the wagon, Her face beet red as she continues crying. Sparrow pops two small pills in her mouth and gives her a bottle of water.]

Sp: Hello?

[Rose swallows the pills and after 2 minutes finally calms down, looking around the area.]

R: I… Fucking hell…

E: Rose…?

R: Uh… Fuck reality check… Sparrow are you real?

Sp: Sí.

R: Dad, I'm not like… Seeing a vision of you or something?

E: No. I’m– I’m here.

R: … I almost stabbed you…

[Edgar nods shakily, looking away from Rose.]

R: I… I'm sorry… I'm so fucking sorry…

[The man says nothing, his shoulders hunched, the energy in the room seems very tense.]

Sp: I mean… You shot him in the leg that one time, so uh… This is better?

[Edgar shakes his head at Sparrow.]

Sp: Sorry…

[Rose stands up and grabs the wagon handle.]

R: I'm gonna take Sparrow on a supply run, when we get back… Can you and I talk?

E: Y– yeah. We can.

R: Cool… Sorry again, be back soon.

?: I'll stay with Edgar.

[Still awaiting name.]

R: Cool, later.

[Rose walks off and the transcript automatically ends.]

[End transcript.]

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 14: Game Theory - It's a terrible idea to try to game information out of Mitsuhide,but Katsu gives it a shot.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

“Do go on, enlighten me as to your guess.” Mitsuhide’s dry tone morphed into mockery. He shifted so the lamplight illuminated the gun, and I’m certain he did that on purpose to remind me who had the upper hand.

“You’re the person whose Shogi moves I’ve been ferrying across the country for the past four years.” Even with the gun trained on me, I breathed a bit easier. Mitsuhide was, if not a friend of, at least friendly with Aki. I knew he still could kill me, but hopefully he wouldn’t without a good reason.

Mitsuhide didn’t move the gun, but he…seemed… somewhat amused? I hoped that was personal amusement, and not anticipation of a kill. “Ah, you’re one of Yamaoka’s daredevils. Kyubei never mentioned his contact was a woman.”

I shrugged. “Most people see what they expect to see. When I’m dressed as a boy, they see a boy.” I reached behind my head, twisted my hair back and down to stretch out my facial muscles, changed my posture, and bowed.

He finally put down the gun and disengaged the match cord. Gesturing to the shogi board, he said, “if you work for Akihira, you will how to play. Join me in a game.”

Right now, I was technically working for Shingen, but since my association with Aki might be what was keeping me alive, I let that go without argument. “I don’t have time.”

“I believe you’ll find you can make time.” He sat down behind the table and poured himself a cup of sake. He offered me one as well.

I shook my head, as I knelt across from him. I didn’t want a game, I wanted information. Unfortunately, it appeared that Mitsuhide wanted me to game the information out of him.

“Tea?” He indicated a tray on the corner of the desk with a tea pot and cups. Probably it would be cold, as I hadn’t seen a maid carry anything through the hall while I was searching the rooms.

Again, I shook my head. I didn’t want to waste any more time here than I had to.

“It isn’t poisoned, if that’s your worry.” He smiled. “Although, if it were poisoned, that is of course, exactly what I would say.”

“I’ll let that remain a mystery.” Even if he truly had no thought of poisoning, or drugging me, I didn’t want to be distracted by the possibility. Which… was probably why he mentioned it to begin with. Clearly, like Aki, he liked to mess with people to keep them off balance. I’d watched Aki play this game, and been its victim, often enough.

“Suit yourself.” He reset the tiles on the board with enough speed and accuracy to show me that he played Shogi often. “I do hope you can give me an interesting game. It’s been a while.”

“Kyubei doesn’t play?” I haven’t played enough people besides Aki to know if my style was interesting or not.

“He does, but since I taught him how, the results get repetitious.” He tossed five pawns in the air – most landed tokin side down, so he would get to go first.

“Maybe you didn’t teach him correctly. Aki seems constantly surprised by my play.” Because I sometimes abandoned my strategy midway through the game, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I said an interesting game, not cheeky commentary.” He started with a standard pawn opening, which I matched, then he played his knight, setting it in the middle of the board. Of course, he would use the Demon Slayer opening.

Demon Slayer – I knew it was a trap opening, but I couldn’t immediately recall what was the correct counter move. To buy time while I searched my memory, I asked, “Where is Kyubei anyway?”

Silver to…? I hovered my hand over the silver and glanced at Mitsuhide to see if he had any reaction. None. Should have figured on a poker face. No. Wait. It was gold to 6B. I made the move – hesitantly, as if I wasn’t sure it was correct – then I sat back. Let him wonder if that was luck.

Mitsuhide studied the board, his face still completely expressionless. “Kyubei is who you were looking for?”

I nodded, keeping my focus on the board. This was one of those openings that if I didn’t play the correct sequence of moves, it was going to be all over quickly. Which given that I wanted to leave, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to just lose… except I was feeling competitive. If I won, would he be more forthcoming with information?

If I lost, would he kill me out of boredom? I could be out of here before Mitsuhide could ignite the musket, but I imagined he had other weapons on him.

“Why were you looking for him?” Once it was clear that I knew a useful defense against Demon Slayer, Mitsuhide switched to a new strategy. And like Aki and Shingen, he’d clearly mastered the classic strategy of answering a question with another question.

But since I didn’t truly care where Kyubei was, I let that go. My initial question had been a stalling tactic.             “I was surprised when I saw him in the castle town and wanted to know why he was here. Also, I have an object that I hoped he could identify.” The arrow was currently stuffed into the back of my obi, and every time I moved, it poked my hip. Mitsuhide was as likely to be able to identify the arrow as Kyubei had been. Moreso, even.

“And you planned to simply ask him.” His tone of voice registered less surprise, more sarcasm. He moved another pawn, freeing up his rook to attack.

Ugh, the perils of playing second. Hard to set a strategy when you’re constantly reacting to the other player’s. I moved to block the rook, then sat back to wait for the attack. So far, the board was closed for both of us.

“Yes, why not? He and I have always dealt honestly with each other.” As far as I know. “I thought it possible we were here for the same reason and thought we could share information.”

“Bit of a departure from your master. Akihira doesn’t share. He might trade for future favors.” With a clack of the tile, he opened the bishop diagonal.

I moved a pawn to block that – too early for a bishop exchange as our playing order would give him the advantage on the drop. “Unless the sharing of information could be mutually beneficial. Which, I believe is the case here.”

“Dear me. Are you naïve enough to think your opinion counts in this situation?” He studied the board. “As far as I can tell, you don’t have any information to share. I doubt you can tell me anything that I don’t already know.”

I might know something he didn’t, but as soon as I told him unprompted, it would become something he knew. Instead, I led with something I assumed he already knew, hoping it would lead somewhere. “Someone is attacking those close to Kenshin and scapegoating Nobunaga.”

“This is about the attack on Takeda Shingen last month?” I nodded. As I’d figured, he had heard about that. He tapped his finger on his silver general and I braced myself for an attack. “I do know something about that, but as I said, you have nothing worth my while.”

Aki would have told me to continue to protect my king and build up the castle, because to him, defense was the key to shogi. In my head, I heard Shingen’s advice on sparring, telling me that I needed to learn to attack. “There was a more recent attempt last week. Someone tried to kill Mai.”

Mitsuhide’s knuckles whitened slightly. Ah. That was news to him – and not good news either. “Was she harmed?”

“No.” I brought out the arrow and explained what had happened. “Since the previous attacker had been paid to blame the Oda, I’d hoped that Kyubei might know if this arrow was from Azuchi.”

“Rather rash of you.” He examined the arrow. “If indeed someone from Azuchi had been behind these attempts, you would have been walking into a trap.”

I took that as confirmation that someone from Azuchi had not been behind the attempts. “I was doing Nobunaga the respect of presuming he was neither that dishonorable nor that clumsy.” His style seemed more straightforward than that.

“Have not heard that I am exactly that dishonorable? If not, I must do something to increase my notoriety.” Mitsuhide pinned me with a look, making me feel like a moth stuck in the tractor beam of a bright light. “Perhaps I arranged this in order to create a battle between Kenshin and Nobunaga, after which I could step into the power void left when they inevitably killed each other.”

There was an implied threat to his words, but though I emotionally recoiled at his tone of voice, my brain kept telling me this wasn’t a likely scenario. Oda had too many strong allies – not to mention strong enemies (was Mitsuhide forgetting Shingen would still be in the picture?) for his death to leave a power void. “Maybe you are that dishonorable, but what would you gain by stepping into a leadership role? You’d be bored. And,” I paused, remembering the worry in his voice when he asked after Mai. He obviously cared for her. “Even if that were what you wanted, would you kill Mai to get there?”

That’s the kind of boom goes the dynamite statement that needs a single eyebrow raise. Unfortunately, all my single eyebrow raises end up with me looking constipated, so I settled for a demure smile.

That netted me a gritted teeth facsimile of a smile in return. “Did Akihira train you to be this annoying, or do you come by it naturally?”

#demuresmilefail

“Usually, I’m dressed as a boy, so I’m allowed to be freer in speech.” Hm, I had two captured pawns. I could drop one behind his formation and promote it. That would allow me to open the board a bit.

“I’m surprised that Kenshin didn’t storm furiously out of the castle after the recent attempt – our little mouse must be even more of a mitigating force than I thought.” He smiled, a real smile this time, that seemed to hint at a fond memory, and it certainly was not directed at me.

What was directed at me was another furious attack on the board, in a strategy I was completely unfamiliar with. From here on out, I would need to make it up as I went along. If I moved my bishop away from the attack, then I would lose my chance to go after the king. Or… I could sacrifice my knight and continue the bishop attack. “Thus far, they’ve managed to keep things from him.”

Mitsuhide had recovered his poise. “Interesting. Mai is not a good liar.” He took my knight. Bye knight. I knew these weren’t particularly powerful pieces in Shogi, but I felt sad to have had to sacrifice it to protect a bishop.

“No, she’s not.” I started to move, then paused, remembering that right before Shingen had yelled at me for jumping out of the tree he had said something about Kenshin being unsettled. Maybe the fact that Kenshin could tell that Mai was lying about something would be enough. Maybe whoever was behind these attacked wanted him primed to explode one way or another… in which case, we were dealing with someone who was several moves ahead of us. Sure, Mitsuhide was capable of that kind of thinking, but I still didn’t think he had a motive.

Either way, I realized I needed to get back to the castle and talk Mai or Shingen into letting Kenshin know what was going on. Both the truth and the lies to cover the truth were going to upset him, and if he was going to be upset, then it ought to be about the right thing.

“Do you plan to continue the game or sit there staring at the board into eternity?” Mitsuhide gestured to the board, then poured himself another drink.

“Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Feel free to examine that arrow while you wait.” I had forgotten what move I had meant to make.

That comment of mine was rewarded by a sarcastic eyebrow lift – which didn’t look at all constipated when he did it, damn him, but he obliged me by examining the arrow more closely.

I went ahead and moved my rook to bolster the attack I was making with the bishop. If it worked, I would finally have taken the game’s momentum, and if it didn’t, then I would be able to leave. The sooner the better – my feet were going numb.

Mitsuhide looked down at the board. “Do you even have a strategy at this point, or are you just flinging tiles about, hoping something will pan out?” He set a piece in motion that would destroy my planned attack in about four moves.

“I have a strategy.” Which boiled down to flinging tiles about and hoping for something to pan out. “You said you knew something about the original attack – what is it?”

“Less about the attack – attacks – here, and more about a similar attack near Azuchi. Some of our vassals were ambushed by bandits, who left evidence pointing to the fact that the attack was carried out by Sanada Yukimura.”

Given Mitsuhide’s bland tone, I doubted he’d even believed that for a second, but I defended Yuki anyway. “He’s not left Kasugayama in at least a month.” That kind of attack was even less Yuki’s style than Nobunaga’s.  “So even as someone is trying to make Kenshin believe Nobunaga is attacking his people, they are also doing the opposite in Azuchi.”

“Indeed.” Mitsuhide steepled his fingers together, but didn’t add anything else, and I was getting a headache.

I moved my king to prevent it being in check. At this point all I could do was protect the king – there wasn’t any way I would be able to mount an attack. “Whoever it is likely has agents in both places.”

“Your opening is solid, but it starts to fall apart in your middle game.” Apparently Mitsuhide was critiquing my shogi skills? Or something else? “We already caught the agent in Azuchi, however he killed himself before we could learn anything.”

I flinched automatically at hearing of the suicide.

Mitsuhide shored up his castle – why, I don’t know, because he clearly could have taken one of my pawns with his gold general and gotten closer to my king. All this did was make the game longer. “We came to Kasugayama to see if we could root out the agent here, but since Shingen appears to already be aware of the possibility, I believe Kyubei and I can safely return to Azuchi and let him take care of things.”

“And the arrow?” After all this, I refused to leave without at least finding out the main thing I wanted to know.

Mitsuhide picked it up and twirled it around his fingers. “Does it matter? You’re aware that it has nothing to do with Nobunaga.”

“I’m aware, but the boy that he – that they - think I am in Kasugayama wouldn’t know what I know, however, that boy can probably reach the same conclusion with information about the arrow, so it’s easier if you just tell me.” My words had been greeted with an increasing level of amusement, and by the time I finished, Mitsuhide was laughing.

“Your end game is a disaster.” He looked down at the Shogi game in process and shook his head. He set the arrow on the table. “Not one from our armory, now, but looks similar. Within the past couple of years, Hideyoshi has been using a few additional blacksmiths – this could be from one we used prior to that.”

“Thank you.” I gestured to the board. “You’ll have me in check in six moves. Should I resign now?” And hurry back to the castle, see if I can hunt down Mai, or Shingen and convince one or the other to tell Kenshin what’s going on.

“No. Play it out. You’ll never improve your game if you resign the field before it’s over.” He studied the board. “You should be able to prolong the game for fifteen moves. Of course, you’ll still lose in the end.”

Never do that again, I thought to myself as I finally left the room, more than happy to say goodbye to Mitsuhide (pretty sure the feeling was mutual).

I got about four steps from the door and realized I had forgotten the damn arrow.

I was going to have to go back in there.

I paused, half turning, which was when someone grabbed my arm and tried to yank me into another room.

[catflowerqueen]

Lunar being so excited for Christmas is as adorable as it is heartbreaking since he was so genuinely surprised at the thought that he, too, might be getting presents. And, like—he was still excited even before Sun mentioned presents at all. And it also spells interesting things for the timeline—or at least as far as when the editor or whoever is “canonically” releasing these episodes is uploading them—since from Sun’s perspective it seems there is something like a week left until Christmas, when from the viewer’s perspective Christmas Eve is tomorrow. Also it again puts into question the methodology by which the viewers are getting to see the VR chat stuff—my guess is on the security camera footage. …Which possibly means that Monty is involved, since we know he has hidden cameras and isn’t against taking secret pictures in order to monetize. Hm… food for thoughts and theories.

Anyways, I really was glad to see Lunar here, since I was very worried that the burning and chip damage Moon kept experiencing was indicating that something was wrong with him. That seems not to be the case, but it isn’t all that much better for it to just be indicating a problem with Moon, either, considering that this is ongoing and hasn’t been fixed yet. Probably Moon should at the very least avoid dimension hopping for a bit. As far as Lunar’s silence goes… either he simply didn’t care about what was going on, or he was wrestling with the fact that if Moon and Sun never split—or if one of them didn’t exist in the first place—then Lunar wouldn’t exist, since the only reason he’s around is because he was made by Eclipse. And Eclipse was only around due to the split. And, like… the past few episodes weren’t really about him, in that way… it’s just that I hope he understands that in these “what if” types of scenarios, it isn’t so much that his brothers were wishing none of it happened at all as they were trying to look for clues that might indicate where exactly things went “wrong.” The sort of thing Sun was trying to communicate to Moon before he took it the wrong way. But Lunar has always been the more philosophical and emotionally aware of the group, so I’m sure he understood.

The thing with Bloodmoon is definitely concerning, but at least they apparently didn’t do anything too violent while they were there. Assuming it actually was them, and not Sun only now encountering an example of human twins. Which would be hilarious in its own way. …Also hilarious would be Lunar sneakily ordering some O-negative blood packs to leave Bloodmoon as a Christmas present.

Circling back around—it will be very interesting to see how these brothers celebrate the holiday, and what they get each other and their friends as gifts. Lunar might be getting a body soon, which will be interesting to see in terms of what they go with for a design. And I wonder if Lunar will get the chance to get something for Sun or Moon? Or Monty, for that matter. It was pretty funny to see that management apparently made Moon do the decorating in the past, even though Sun seems to be the one much more interested in making things festive. I’m interested to see the location he picked out for them to celebrate the holiday.

Finally, I am glad everyone was able to reconcile (and I love that Sun’s reaction to Moon’s little escapade was basically the same as the one Moon had for Sun’s, even though he seemed less outwardly worried about it), and it is pretty cool that the reasons I put in my “Snapshots of Mars” fics for Moon to teach Lunar coding is basically canon now—in that Moon is trying to get Lunar interested due the fact that learning coding will mean Lunar can make his own games.

[graftisms]

JOSHUA & NAOMI — DAY TWENTY-THREE

location :   night / terrace

featuring :   @heatwayve

JOSHUA 

after talking to rhys, the first and last thing josh wants to so is see naomi. unfortunately one of those choices would make him looking the little bitch he's beginning to think he is, so instead he spends the night waiting to see if she'll pull him. when all he has to show for himself is a liquor buzz and clear annoyance over watching her still ignore him for dylan, josh is stuck taking matters into his own hands. he doesn't want to deal with this when they're in bed together.  "hey," he greets when he runs into her in the bedroom, though it's a noticeably cooler tone than what he's used in the last few days, without its usual tenderness. then, he thought they had an understanding. now, he's no longer sure. josh holds out his hand, bringing her out onto the terrace. he'd kill for some real privacy right now, and not the sexy kind. "let's talk. i'm sure you have stuff to fill me in on."   

NAOMI

it's been a pretty uneventful night for the most part – she spent the early evening chatting with dylan before he all but disappeared, flitting in an out of conversations and drinking games with the rest of the cast for the remainder of the night until it all started to wind down, kind of excited to get in bed with josh and catch up about all the dates, the new bombshell, and inevitably make fun of maddox's cooking. "hi," naomi can sense josh's change in tone, but has no reason to change hers – though now she's wondering if some kind of ultimatum is coming earlier than she'd hoped. it makes her feel so nervous, stomach dropping, and she resents how he can do this to her – affecting her mood with a singular look. "okay, sure," she pushes her hair back over her shoulders as she sits beside josh, looking up at him like she'd like to be able to read his mind tonight. "what do you want to talk about?" since there's clearly something bothering him, and she's not about to incriminate herself by filling in a random blank.

JOSHUA

she's sitting next to him but josh doesn't reach out to touch her like normal, instead letting his hands rest in his lap. for a second it reminds him ironically of his talk with jenny up here, before she pulled him into the massages. he had wanted to be so good, to get to know her without disrespecting naomi, and for what? dylan and rhys wouldn't have imploded if naomi wasn't good at what she does. "i heard your boyfriend broke up with his boyfriend," he deadpans, since it's clear she's not going to, "so i guess i wanted to touch base on what's going on there, and more importantly, here," he motions between the two of them.

NAOMI

naomi pauses, brows knitting closer together. no one else has clued her in on this yet. "what?" she feels a little unprepared for this conversation, wherever it's going, and she really doesn't like that. "dylan and rhys called it off?" if it was because of her, dylan certainly hasn't given her any indication of that, but he's also never talked to her about rhys that much. whatever, it's probably a good thing that she feels confused, because she'd probably want to play dumb about this one anyway? "sorry, i didn't know that – i mean, i couldn't tell you anything about what's going on there," she adds, a dismissive wave of her hand at the rhylan drama. "i didn't have anything to do with it, if that's what you're asking," she adds, because it kind of feels like it is. "and you'd know just as much about what's going on here," she motions between them, "as i would. my feelings haven't changed since this morning. where are you going with this?" might as well get to the point.

JOSHUA

he's unprepared for her reaction, almost certain that she's in on it. she probably still is, even if the news hasn't reached him yet. why else would rhys and dylan breakup, if dylan wasn't jumping ship? it's not like rhys is in the position to be ending things with anyone. "apparently," he nods, tone wary but no longer quite as cold. this is a conversation that needs to be had anyway, but he'll shift closer to her for it, hand resting on her leg lightly. he doesn't want her to get defensive, but it's not just about rhylan anyway. "i don't know," he says, looking down at her unflinchingly. "like, where are we going with this? because i find it hard to believe your boyfriend dropping rhys has nothing to do with you. and if that's the way things are gonna go, i'd rather you tell me now, before i look like a mug. i've been really trying to give you your space with him, or whatever, and not be a jealous asshole like i actually am. but... i don't like this," he admits, like a warning. "i feel like i'm being pushed out, and i rather you tell me now where your head's at. are you seriously entertaining him, or is this about you and me?" or both.

NAOMI

"stop calling him that," naomi corrects, "he's not my boyfriend." like it really needs clarification, but it's starting to irk her. it's such a weird word to hear in josh's voice anyway. naomi had a feeling this was where this conversation was going, for the most part. she still feels so caught in the middle, because, god, fuck her with a crowbar, she likes him. just his hand on her leg has her leaning closer with rapt attention, a little affectionate twitch of her nose when he refers to himself as a jealous asshole. toxic that she finds that sweet. but she said it earlier to producers and she feels it now – like she can't trust him. as he speaks, naomi worries she's being manipulated, and she doesn't want to fall for it before it's too late to be with someone else who doesn't make her time in here feel like a winding roller coaster. 

 "i get it," she sighs, "you've been really good about this, and good to me – obviously i know what i feels like to not want to look like a mug," she adds, a wry, pointed glance in his direction. "i do actually like him," might as well rip that band-aid off, if it apparently wasn't clear when she said she wanted to explore things with the guy. "we haven't had any serious chats or anything like that. we get on, but i honestly have no idea where his head is." she's hoping to find out soon, especially since dylan was clearly in no hurry to tell her about this. sus. "but it's not just that. josh, you hid something from me, and then you turned around really fast and said you were falling for me. it was really intense. i've got to know what i want and who i can trust before i can take that leap and say i'm all in with anyone."

JOSHUA

his jaw clenches at her admission, though it's not like he doesn't know that. "okay, but what are you gonna do tomorrow when he says 'hey naomi, i dumped rhys for you'? like i'm sorry to spring this onto you now, but are you even, like, going to think about me?" josh swallows hard. of course it's about jenny. his hand tighten around her leg, a small squeeze. "what else was i supposed to do? i hid something and then felt so shitty that i didn't give that person a real chance, because i knew what i wanted. is it... that i told you i'm falling for you, is that it?" god, he never should've said that. josh figured girls would like the initiative, but he had forgotten just how similar they were. "i'm not looking for us to be married off, if it's pressure you feel. we don't even have to be in a relationship. i just... i don't know what else i can say or do to make you believe it." it's the simple truth, but it hurts--enough to lift his hand off of her, like he's been burned. "i just can't keep going on like this without it feeling a reciprocated thing. i don't want to share you, and i don't want to lose you before i get more invested than i already am. i just fucking like you, naomi, and i know you like me too." which is the hardest part, maybe, because he can see it in her eyes. so why is she fighting so hard? "all i'm asking is for you to trust me right now, please. i told you at the beginning of this that i wasn't going to screw you over, and i meant it. i still do."

NAOMI

"hey," naomi leans forward, hand on josh's cheek, voice soft as she looks up at him, "of course i'm going to think about you." she's quick about it, not wanting to push it, and naomi leans back again, lips pressed together. "but you are getting so ahead of yourself, it's like zero to one hundred in your brain right now and it's all hypotheticals. i don't know where you're getting this from – did rhys say something to you?" one thing she likes about dylan is that it's pretty hard for her to imagine him pressuring her like that, even if he had that kind of angle going for him. but josh clearly has a completely different perspective on the guy. she sighs, massaging her temples for a beat. "i don't know either, josh, it's not the kind of thing i can just suddenly do over night," trust almost feels like a dirty word for a girl that grew up around the entertainment industry, and josh should know that she can't just flip the switch. he's right about his confession – it only exacerbated things, naomi desperate to poke holes in all of his devoted declarations, to figure out where the lie is before she could be duped. 

i know you like me too, really gets her, a flash of incredulity in her eyes. she doesn't like being told how she feels as if it should dictate her to act a certain way, even if it's true. especially if it's true.  "you say you don't want to pressure me into anything, but you also say that this isn't working for you, so what is it? are you trying to make me choose between you and dylan right now, is that what you want?" he's not getting into specifics, but naomi's getting suspicious that he's laying the groundwork for some kind of ultimatum, which she's not going to be happy about being ambushed and backed into tonight.

JOSHUA

the hand on the cheek feels like the most real he's getting from her,  moment of vulnerability before she leans back. josh steals that hand before she pulls away to rest between both of his own, eyes earnest as he looks back at her. "i'm getting this from my own fucking eyes, naomi." surely she must be fucking with him, because there's no way naomi isn't five steps ahead at all time, and the next steps to the breakup is bright as day. "it's hard for my mind to not go there, don't you think?" 

josh can feel his patience start to wane, giving into his temper. when he played this conversation in his head, he thought she would be more straightforward than this. instead she's acting like he's being unreasonable, like he didn't have to watch naomi beam with excitement when kangaroo boy was saved just last night. "i don't give a shit about dylan!" his volume picks up, though he's quick to lower it afterwards. "you're saying trust can't be made overnight, and... i get it, i do," josh hesitates. "but i'm telling you that if you still want me around, you need to give me something to show me that i'm not waiting for nothing. i've done everything i can to show you that i mean it, but you're giving me nothing to work with here. i'm finding it hard to trust that this isn't an elaborate ruse to mug me off for the first guy that can give you something else."

NAOMI

she doesn't expect him to grab her hand, the action totally incongruent with the tone that he's taken with her. naomi glances at it for a moment, slightly stunned, before her gaze lifts back to his features. sometimes josh reminds her he's not a total idiot – and naomi wishes she had a good answer for him that didn't feel like a lie. she's got lots of great lies, though. "i don't know, josh, i'd probably tell him that he's a fucking idiot if that's the case – shall we roleplay so you can get the entire dialogue mapped out ahead of time? should i be naomi or dylan?" she retorts with obvious sarcasm, hating this feeling, like she's being pushed into a corner with no right answers, or at least no obvious ones. 

eyebrows arch high on her forehead when he yells, like, are you seriously yelling at me? incredulity in her wide-eyed stare – her lips are pressed together unamused even when he quiets. she usually hits this impasse in relationships at some point – the three week mark, the three month mark, whatever. something frays and naomi keeps kicking, watching it unravel – it's a familiar song and dance around commitment that she's become accustomed to. josh clearly knows the choreography. "an elaborate ruse? that's what you think of me? jesus, josh," naomi exhales, rolling her eyes. they're on the same page in all the worst ways. "i don't know what the hell you want from me then if this isn't about him. like, what am i supposed to say to you right now? that i couldn't wait to go to bed with you tonight? that i was so excited to just touch you and talk about our stupid day? because i was – before you dragged me out here to attack me. so, what's going to be enough for you right now?" this is the sort of intense hot and cold she's been referring to when people ask where she's at with josh.

JOSHUA

he's not sure what's happening. one minute their relationship was find, over two weeks of clear communication and relaxing. no drama. now she's looking him in the eye and saying words that mean virtually nothing, and he has no idea how to navigate it. there's a familiarity to this dance that he's felt in other relationships, which the player in him can smell bullshit from. but it's hard to pinpoint what exactly is going on, clouded by his own stupid emotions. it's all suddenly too much. 

"stop treating me like i'm being some kinda dick for wanting to know what you actually want." letting go of her hand, josh suddenly rises to his feet. with his height it's easy for anyone nearby to make him out on the terrace, but he doesn't care about an audience. "i just want you to tell me one real fucking thing, and you can't even do that. i don't know what to do anymore." his head turns, so he doesn't have to look at her as he speaks. "i know what you want from this," he says after a moment, quietly. "what you're trying to get out of being here. you're not gonna get it with dylan or anyone else. kangaroo boy is going to bore you in a week, and it won't last. not like that." winning, he means, because josh is very much aware that's what brought her on the show. he wasn't born yesterday. fingers running through his hair, josh finally looks back at her, eyes tired. "you gotta give me something here," he says, one more time, "otherwise i can't do this anymore." except it already feels like the end, because he knows she won't give him anymore than this. but josh would rather go home tomorrow than let naomi blindside him at the next recoupling.

NAOMI

naomi visibly watches his anger rise, knowing she's pushed some kind of button. she stands along with him, rising to her feet – not really out of anger, but out of the knowledge that her angles are going to look better to him if she's not seated. "you're acting like you've given me so much, when you've just managed not to massage another girl for forty eight hours! do you want a fucking parade? the bar is literally on the floor here, josh," naomi interjects. she presses her lips together for a beat, hates the way they nearly twitch at the moniker he's got for dylan now – like the guy's some kind of evil force and josh can't bear to speak his real name for fear of being hexed or something. but considering josh apparently knows so well what she wants from this, naomi thinks it's kind of bold that he's asking her to be real right now. she imagines what he's proposing, the concept that she rip herself open for both him and the cameras, tell him everything she's been through before and everything she's afraid of now. it makes her want to run away and puke. 

"well, maybe i'd rather be bored than be yelled at on the terrace right now, okay? because i don't know what you think it is about this conversation that's lasting," she adds. josh certainly doesn't bore her. in truth, it hurts more than she'd want to admit that he calls it nothing. to him, maybe, but naomi can count on her hand the amount of people she's been excited to get in bed with and fucking cuddle. she takes a slow, shaky inhaling breath, dares to step closer. "look at me, please," voice is softer, nearly as weary. there's no particular showmanship about not wanting to lose him, it's just the truth, but she's not sure it's the smartest thing for her – he puts her head and heart at war. "i'm not good at this. i don't know what you want from me right now if it's not some kind of commitment. if that's what this is about, then just say it."

JOSHUA

"i'm not saying that i'm an angel," josh fires back, "but i'm trying. i make one mistake in the three weeks we've been together, and now you're using this as a reason to make out with other guys and shut me out. i don't know what else to do if you don't want to give me any security," josh says. "do i need to start exploring others too? i don't want to, but if it's that or go home, i will. i just need you to tell me." don't women usually like to over-communicate? josh has never felt so fucking needy in his life, and he hates it. part of him wishes she'd just dump him already, so he doesn't have to feel so absolutely insane. 

 but then she takes a step closer and softens her tone, and josh can feel himself being sucked back into her quicksand. his blood is still boiling, adrenaline spiked, but he looks down at her anyway, hands moving to rest on her waist lightly. for maybe the first time since coming onto the show, he has to wonder what the fuck he's doing here, and if it's all worth it. "i'm not yelling at you," he sighs out, though he makes a mental note to check himself. "i'm not good at this either, but i want to be. all i want is for you to treat me like your equal, instead of that sad muck that's waiting for you to make up your mind." he knows it's not really fair of him, after both mimi and jenny, but neither situations were like this. he hadn't so much as kissed mimi, and jenny had lasted nearly before it began. a hand slides up to cup her face, making her look up at him like he had a few days ago, when he told her to figure her stuff out. "i don't want you getting to know dylan anymore," he says, quietly. it's a bruise to his ego to even admit that he cares, but he does it anyway. "if you don't trust me yet, fine. but we can't fix it if your head's not fully into us."

NAOMI

there's recognition on her features as they rehash the conversation from days ago, just in a complete role reversal. she should feel happy – she's got the upper hand back after being blindsided, put him in the same position that she was, but she's not. her head's just spinning. she was trying to make him feel what she felt, but naomi didn't anticipate what it would be like to feel how he felt. she swallows thickly, shakes her head. "i know, but i'm still reacting to it. you changed your mind, but that doesn't mean there weren't consequences. i still feel it," naomi says. and i still see her, the way she looks at you, she doesn't say. "i don't want you to go home." 

that might be a lie. but hating the thought of him with someone else? that's not. 

naomi leans into his touch, cheek on his hand, hazel eyes reading every muscle on his face when he speaks. she's always trying to anticipate his next move, like pieces on a chess board, often wondering if he's just sacrificing pawns to try and get to her queen. she wishes the real queen had waited a few weeks before she'd dropped dead, because god, what she wouldn't give to get a moment alone with josh without the cameras now, to talk about where this is going without any spotlight on the chess board. "okay," naomi tugs at his shirt gently, a little bit playful, and her fingertips rest there, tracing shapes as she thinks. "that's what i needed to know." it's the near-ultimatum she knew was coming since he brought up the topic, but she doesn't like it. he doesn't present it forcefully enough for her to play the victim card, either – maybe the best thing to do is to buy herself time to clear her head. and she still has no fucking idea what went down between rhys and dylan. "i'll figure it out and i'll talk to him tomorrow, alright?" naomi offers, hands sliding up josh's chest to rest at his shoulders. "tonight can be about us."

JOSHUA

"i know there's consequences," josh points out, though he manages to smile slightly, a bitter little thing. all he has now is consequences of his actions to deal with, and they're quickly driving him mad. just two nights ago he thought he could live with her exploring other relationships, but he's already learned that no, he can't. if he had to go through another two days of this, he's certain that he'd go insane. 

josh has never dealt with this before: blind spots in relationships. he's liked girls enough for one reason or another to keep them around longer than usual, but he's always been very tactical about it, nearly to a science. whoever says absence makes the heart grow fonder is a fucking liar--it's being around each other all day that's throwing josh off, making him feel things that very likely aren't there. and now it's giving him blind spots; when naomi's hazel eyes flash up at him innocently, for example, he finds himself believing them. the doubt from earlier hasn't disappeared, but hidden behind the tug of her smile and flutter of his heart. josh doesn't think what he's asking is particularly shocking, but rather than the no nonsense approach he planned on earlier, he finds himself nodding slowly with reprieve. "i'm serious about this," he warns her, though his hands slide up and bring the bottom of her shirt with them, letting the wind tickle the skin. "by tomorrow night, can you give me an answer?" it is only fair she talks to dylan, probably, since she had no idea about the breakup.

NAOMI

josh's hands slide up the hem of her shirt, night air on her skin, and his eyes are gazing into hers, soft and sweet, somehow completely endeared despite everything transpiring. her stomach does that flipping thing. it's completely accidental, but she allows herself the fantasy for a moment – that it's this easy, the two of them and nothing else. she imagines herself as that girl, falling for him with no concept of the ground below, completely unafraid. and god, it feels so good that it actually feels dangerous. she'd realized it creeping up when he told her about jenny, and now she's struggling to stop it. it was so much less complicated before then, when she had no idea what that could feel like. "i know," she repeats, heart skipping a beat in her chest. the fact that he's willing to wait an entire day is way more than she expected, shocked that he's being so relenting. what's the catch? naomi smiles, showing her teeth, wide and unrestrained, wanting to see him smile back. "i don't even think you'll have to wait that long. but yes, of course." a small tilt of her head as she draws herself closer, "well, while we're having it out, is there anything else we should go over? if you want to keep arguing, i could go all night," naomi adds, teasing – but only a little, because he damn well knows she could.

JOSHUA

hands run down her body to tease the soft skin of her abdomen, before one of them can grab her ass and pull her against him. part of him is still cognizant that time could very well be working against them (or naomi would be working against them, actually, but he's not drawing that conclusion right now), so he's trying to make the most of them being like this, when he can wrap his arms around her waist and not let her go. there is a comfort in hearing that she won't take the full twenty-four hours, hoping tonight is all they need. if he has to go to bed for another night of not being sure where they stand, he's going to go mental. "yes, actually," he hums, breath tickling her neck before his lips replace it. "i have one more demand." josh's head lifts up to look down at her playfully, nipping her bottom lip once. "sleep outside with me tonight. we can pretend it's the hideaway, and we can do some nasty things without an audience." which is all true, but he also wants to see if he still has any sway over her—if she'll actually throw him a bone. "i'll make it worth your wild," eyebrows raise suggestively, hand on her ass roaming to trail up her thighs.

NAOMI

if there's such thing as an emotional centrifuge, naomi's found it in josh, whirled around from the panic that had risen in her throat at his initial confrontation of her to now: the soft, wanting gasp from her lips as his hands make his way to her thighs, teasing her. he's flipped the switch so quickly that naomi is breathless, holding on to him with desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. clearly interested in gaining an upper hand in some capacity, josh knows how to go straight to her weak spot, lips on her neck (a question josh never got the chance to answer for her in second challenge, but one he certainly knows well at this point) in a way that makes her knees feel like they could give out.

naomi's grateful for the total distraction, tired of being caught up in her feelings and the semantics of who is coupled up with who and the decisions she'll have to make when the sun rises in the morning. if he's trying to distract her, it's working – naomi wants nothing more than to wrap herself around him and make herself impossible for him to forget if this just happens to be their swan song. "josh," the beginning of a useless protest, her heart's not in it and it's clear from her breathless tone of voice, "we have a bed." though he's probably got a point – how many villagers really want to sleep next to them tonight? there's a quiet alarm bell in the back of her mind that reminds her that doing this embraces a potential villain edit with everything that she's juggling, but naomi can't help herself in wanting to indulge the sin. she rises to the tips of her toes so she can kiss him until she forgets whose air she's breathing, body pressed close until there's no air between the two of them. "and you know how i feel about sleeping outside," she clarifies softly against his lips, presenting a challenge, "so this had better be good."