#my presents were so cool i got a button maker :]

[jesterjamz]

god that was a fun party

[worminstuff]

mcyts as teachers

in my brain. lol. thisisjustmyopiniondontattakpls

dream smp edition!!!

i got way to carried away HOLY

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Mr.Wastaken - math

he’s that one math teacher dude whos friends with all his students

funky👏tys👏 and👏 button ups👏

somehow teaches everything so everyone understands

the students won’t bully eachother if he bully’s them first.

everyone does their work and then when everyone is done and just chillin, he’ll tell a story or just talk to them

Mr.Blade - english

he’s that english teacher that if you ask the right question they’ll go on a tangent and you’ll get to not do work for like 30 minutes minimum.

Mr.Blade seems mean but is super sweet to his students. (especially the quiet ones)

never makes them do presentations

Mr.Jacobs - history

is 100% best friends with his students.

so many handshakes

Mr.Karl is literally the best dressed teacher there is and is so nice to all his students. he is easy going on grading but is a tad hard on late work.

totally doesn’t sneak off to kiss coach sapnap sometimes

Mr. Quack - spanish

HOLA NIÑOS

gets so hyped with his students.

kahoot kahoot kahoot sm kahoot

Mr.Quacks class is the one everyone hopes they get and constantly looks forward to. thinks like baking spanish food, watching spanish soap operas, and many more fun ways Mr.Quack has thought of to show them different aspects of spanish culture

Mrs. Nihachu - art

the classroom the kids with anxiety sit in during lunch

gives her students hugs whenever they need them

has art her students have made for her all over her classroom walls and desk

drawer full of candy

Coach Sapnap & Coach Punz - PE

LETS GOOOOOOOO

so scary. they are so so scary.

also the sweetest somehow.

the duo is always constantly trying to create new games to keep students active and they work hard to make sure everyone is happy and being included if they want to, or have an alternative if they don’t.

they play in team games like kickball and get HELLA competitive, it makes for a whole lot of fun inside jokes between them and their students.

the smack talk- holy-

Mr.Fundy - furry science- jk. biology

the👏most👏fun👏science👏teacher

every time they have labs he wears a funky lab coat and goggles

his students make fun of him and he loves it

is a tough grader but makes the class easy and makes it a comfy place so kids won’t be scared to ask questions when they need

electives:

Mr.Notfound - engineering

he’s the type of teacher to put up a video on days he’s tired

actually really enjoys bantering with students, and is super lenient with how much they can talk during classes

a lot of his work is hands on so there’s many bits and bobbles around his room and it’s always a mess

“you’ll need the stuff for the soddering machines but i’m not actually sure where they are...”

the students are well aware that class is WAY more fun when Mr.Notfound is in a good mood.

Mr.Wastaken drops by when he has free periods cause he loves to annoy visit Mr.Notfound

Teacher Eret - sociology

his room is the safe space where you go if you need a good hug or a good cry

kids also eat lunch here

memes on da walls and things hanging from the ceiling

talks with his hands and laughs with the students when they mock him and do it when he does

“TEACHER ERET! you will not believe what sarah did!!” “tell me right now!”

Mr.Dude - comp. science

is always asking students how they feel like they’re doing

brings lunches for students he notices not having any

“snack break anyone?” opened drawer full of goldfish

stands in the hallways during passing time so he can watch out for his kiddos and make sure no ones being mean to anyone

high-fives all the time constantly

Mr.Soot - drama

literally so dramatic all the time for no reason

relentless hamilton references

he’s the type of drama teacher to adore his students and have them adore him back. he loves hearing all the unique ideas and loves to watch kids grow into their shell as they take his class

his favorite thing is watching quiet kids learn they love acting and become more confident

students share their own scrips and plays they write and he absolutely melts every time

Mr.Shlatt - political science

the teacher that everyone tries to get mad cause it’s funny

starts arguments between students because he loves to watch kids grow into their opinions and learn to debate with others

teaches them how to win arguments and it blows up in his face cause they start using his tactics against him

Mr. Halo - self defense

no 🚫 swearing 🚫 zone

gives the biggest hugs to kids that seem sad

he teaches in mostly talking ways where he explains everything but he also loves demonstration lessons

he always has kids talking to him about other teachers that may annoy them or have given them a bad grade because Mr.Halo always has their back

Mr.Skeppy - money management

he’s that one teacher that isn’t really close with his students but every once in a while he’ll get a group of kids that he enjoys and it makes the class a lot more fun

pizza party after tests if everyone passes

actually holds meme contests for literally no reason

Mr.H - hospitality

has whiteboard desks in his class cause he is THAT cool

is always asking kids what the drama is atm cause he wants to be in the know

has holiday party’s in class for EVERY holiday. if you have him as a teacher you’ll be celebrating every holiday for however long you have him. he just lives for a good party.

also has a snack drawer

Mr.Frost - horticulture

shelves and shelves of plants. gives his fav students ones to take home

literally the sweetest teacher, every student understands you can not be rude to Mr.Frost it’s just criminal to do so

another huggy teacher. he just loves his kiddos with his whole heart

the least amount of work for a class out of all of them

he’s definitely that teacher thay takes his class outside every chance they get, and the students l o v e it

staff:

Mr.Minecraft -headmaster/principal

he’s the reason the school has like 0 REAL trouble makers.

everyone’s scared of him, but only because they don’t want to disappoint him.

he creates the best rallies and makes school events fantastic

100% dances at school dances sometimes

Mrs.Puffy - councilor

everyone adores her. even other teachers.

she councils Mr.Wastaken when he needs dating advice. *cough cough* Mr.Notfound *cough cough*

literally 3 drawers full of snacks.

is the founder of their schools GCA and it’s the best thing

let’s kids skip class in her office when they have a panic attack or are to anxious to go

had to have a chat with Coach Sapnap because of how many kids were coming from his PE class having panic attacks (he felt really bad, he’s just intense sometimes)

loves to sit in on Mr.Quackitys classes

Teacher callahan - substitute

he subs in sometimes and when students find out Teacher callahan is subbing that day they freak the fuck out

so much kahoot

how can one man start such party’s without speaking a word

terrorizes Mr Wastakens classes when he can and LOVES to pop in on the PE classes especially when they’re doing something wicked fun and he feels like beating sapnap at something

[mendesblurb]

Show me your phone

GIF CREDITS TO OWNER AND MAKER @dreamofwonder

Shawn Mendes x female reader

Warning: fluff, maybe grammar error and maybe some punctuation errors

Oh My God!  You thought to yourself. This was the day. Its finally here. The day you and your husband had been waiting for a while now. It was finally here.

Your nerves were absolutely racking and your heart was beating fast. the test showed you 2 lines. YOU WERE PREGNANT.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other two that sat on the vanity, all positive. Now it was time to tell Shawn the news.

“We’re going to have a what?” Shawn asked, his face turning up toward you. 

He was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, having some much needed relaxing time after being in the recording studio all day.

You’d discovered you were pregnant this morning after he’d left for work and decided to keep the news until he was home.

For the time being you kept your news a secret from the media, afraid of the possibility of things happening on the first trimester. So you started going out in baggy clothes so the paparazzi will not know and throwback photos became a thing in your Instagram feed.

However, you knew that sooner or later it would be discovered, it didn’t worry you too much, but you wanted to feel comfortable first with the idea of having a growing human inside your belly and also because Shawn and you are a pretty private couple.

————————-FOUR MONTHS LATER————

Tonight , Shawn was going to be interviewed on Jimmy Fallon’s late night show because of the recent release of his album “wonder.”

It was a routine that before one of you came on, the other would send a text message of encouragement and an occasional “I love you ” were sent along with it.

You: enjoy the talk show with Jimmy 😙

Shawn: thanks baby, love you 😘

You: love you too ❤️

Shawn: see you at home ❤️

You: send image

This time you decide to send a pic of you and Tarzan at the living room couch and the pic also displayed your growing bump.

You: see you at home Shawnie❤️, lots of love from me, Tarzan and little Mendes

As the crew began counting down the seconds before going live Jimmy sat down slowly and Shawn adjusted his jacket as he got comfortable in the chair.

“Now Shawn…” Jimmy started, leaning on his desk casually. “quite a bit has happened since the last time I saw you.”

He nodded slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Yeah it’s been a while dude.”

Jimmy laughed partially, “that’s right… the last time you were here you were single, and now you’re married.”

Shawn nodded as Jimmy continued, “now Wonder just came out a few weeks ago and it was a huge hit..”

Shawn smiled, “yup it did alright.”

The rest of the interview was great, Shawn talked about the highs and lows he experienced when creating the album and how all his songs were about you and how grateful he was to have you by his side through it all.

That night both Shawn and Jimmy were going to play ‘Show me your phone’, a game where they had to show whatever was hidden on their smart phones.

As the game was about to start, Shawn realised he wasn’t prepared at all. At this point he knew your secret is about to be exposed, I mean your whole relationship was not a secret but it was mostly private.

Both of you seem to have a habit of dropping the bombshell to your fans. Like that one time you finally made your relationship social media official, another time you secretly got married and now you’re secretly 4 months pregnant.

Now sitting across from Jimmy, Shawn could feel his heart pounding , and his hand began to feel clammy.

In front of them there was a red button, in the centre a tripod that will act as a phone holder and next to it was an electronic panel showing all the possibilities that could come up.

There was the icon for messages, Safari, photos , Instagram, Twitter, mail and call.

“Okay, you ready?” Jimmy asked and Shawn just nodded his head.

“Okay, for anyone who don’t know, here’s how game works. Shawn and I will take turns pressing the red button we have here, which will randomly select one of these icons we have on the board.”

After He explained how the game works , then he opted for Shawn to go first as he was the guest.

Laughter was heard among the audience as they saw the nervous glances that was displayed in both Shawn’s and Jimmy’s faces.

“FYI, neither of us know what’s behind each icon.” Jimmy looks at Shawn who was now laughing. “Let’s go and explore our phone.” Jimmy said

“Let the adventure begin,” Shawn said while trying to hide his face. “I think I forgot to clean my phone before the game.”

“You and me both dude,” Jimmy said laughing along with him. “Alright, here we go. Since you’re the guest you press first.”

“I am honoured ,” Shawn said sarcastically , which drew another laughter from the audience. “Here goes nothing!”

Shawn pressed the red button and quickly the icons on the panel began to light up and the light stopped specifically on the Safari browser icon, so that a text was displayed that said 'Show and tell us your last Google search’.

“Shawn if you could please show us your last Google search my friend.” Jimmy said while trying to control his laughter.

“Okay!” exclaimed Shawn grabbing his phone and heading to the app. “If I’m being honest I forgot what my last search was… Oh never mind!”

Shawn started laughing and tried to hide his phone, which only caused the audience to laugh hilariously.

"Okay, fine,” Shawn said as he put the phone down on the small platform. “I was just trying to do a kind gesture.”

The camera pointed straight at him, checking that his last search had been ‘nearest grocery store with Oat milk’.

The set erupted in laughter, Jimmy clasped his hands to his chest, laughing his head off.

“This- This is actually funny because it’s so specific but it’s actually very thoughtful,” he said between guffaws. “Did you end up buying it though?”

“I did!” Shawn said. “I found two brands and you know I was just trying to buy it because Y/N being a good wife she is wants me to start living a healthier lifestyle.”

“Awww,” Jimmy said . “Come on! Here we go. My turn.”

The panel came back on, the light moving between icons until it stopped on the photo app. Jimmy frowned, and the panel informed him that it should show the last picture he took on his phone.

“Come on, show us!” exclaimed Shawn encouragingly.

“I’m extremely scared,” said Jimmy with a serious and comical look on his face, reaching for his phone. “I am deeply embarrassed … Oh!” he began to laugh. “Okay, okay. This… is me trying to be a good Dad, don’t judge me.”

The picture showed Jimmy trying to pose with a random Snapchat filter and the caption was ‘Goodnight Frances & Winnie’ . In response the audience started laughing.

“All right, all right,” Jimmy held up his hands. “I have an explanation . The other day my wife said my kids won’t go to bed until I said goodnight to them and I was still on set.”

“That’s actually cool man!” exclaimed Shawn.

“Anything to put your kids to bed,” he laughed and picked up his phone.

“Show us your last text message” Jimmy read out eliciting cheers from the audience. “Come on!”

“Okay,” he began to laugh nervously. “It says there the last message I sent, in details too?”

“Well, just put the phone down,” Jimmy laughed.

“Okay,” Shawn started to look up. “Last text message…” he took a breath and looked at Jimmy hesitantly.“Oh here we go…”

Your last conversation appeared before everyone’s eyes, showing only the last photo you had sent him with Tarzan and your growing bump was present and the caption was the true bombshell of all.

“Wait, wait back up Mendes,” Jimmy said looking at him and questioning “little Mendes? Is this why she’s taking a break?”

The audience exclaimed a sweet 'aw’ again when they got a glimpse of the photo and Shawn was just widely smiling.

“This is really sweet!” said Jimmy looking at Shawn, “This is the best news ever.”

“I know, I know,” Shawn commented and nodding his head slowly.

“Do you know the gender?” asked Jimmy hesitantly, to which Shawn took another breath before replying.

“Yes we do,” Shawn laughed nervously. “We are going to have a baby girl.”

 “There you have it, folks! The show is about exposing secrets! Thank you for watching, let’s all patiently wait for the arrival of baby Mendes.”

Shawn was seen hugging Jimmy as the camera flickered off, the curtains closing - concealing them from the screaming audience.

Taglist: @holland-styles @itsalwaysbeen305 @nervousmendes

TAGLIST & REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[pettyprocrastination]

Pierced Nipples HC

Just some fun ol’ headcanons about pedro characters reacting to you having peirced nips!! Big thank you to @captainsamwlsn​ for betareading my FILTH lmao ily bby!!!

Warnings: smut, foul language, blindfold sex, ya’ll know what you're getting into were talking about pierced nipples not going to church lmao. 

Perm Tag list: @honestlystop​ @captainsamwlsn​

Oberyn+Ellaria

Ellaria is letting her hands roam your body while Oberyn watches from the other side of the room, smiling like the two of you just gifted him the sun. Her lips are attached to your neck, leaving dark marks in her wake that you’ll cherish for as long as they grace your skin. Her hand slips under your gown, nimble fingers trail over the swell of your breast and freeze when they feel the cool metal in your skin. Her cool composure falters for a moment, soft brown eyes widen before they crinkle as she smiles. “I knew you were special.” She hums, Oberyn notices the change in his lover’s mood, more excited than before, more enamored with you, if that were even possible. “Come look lover-” Her hands loosen the lace back of your gown, letting the fabric fall off your figure and pool at your feet, leaving you bare before her and the Red Viper. 

You try to shy away but she grabs your chin, keeping you focused on Oberyn whose eyes are glazed over and mind no doubt addled with lust. To see the prince of dorne, the red fucking viper so entranced, so in awe by you? That gave you a rush of adrenaline, a surge of power that you’d never felt before and never wanted to leave. 

Her hand is tugging and playing with the silver bar in your left nipple as she hums and kisses the side of your face. Oberyn stalks towards you, slowly, but each step is taken with such authority you feel your knees grow weaker as he gets closer. 

“Magnificent.” Ellaria coos as you gasp and arch your back when she toys with the metal. “Isn’t she?”

Oberyn’s gaze trails down to your chest, looking at the metal pieces with an adoration that tied your stomach in a knot. A bronze hand trailed around the silver bar while his eyes focused on your reaction, taking in the way you whimpered and bit back moans as they played with you. 

“Truly one of a kind.” He breathed out. His gaze shot up to his lover, both of them sharing a conspiring smile. “But she would look so much better in gold, don’t you think my love?”

Din

When Din finds out, you're laying in your bed with a smooth silken fabric tied around your eyes. He’s mouthing at your neck, moaning against your skin as his hands map out every spot of your body and every reaction it pulls from you. He’s getting drunk off it, the way you whimper and writhe under his hands. 

You knew he was probably starved of it all. Touch, taste, sex. Living in a beskar cage his entire life. The rough pads of his fingers slip under your shirt, trailing over your stomach before pushing the fabric up and over your chest, his fingers freeze at your chest binding, brown eyes flicking up to your hidden ones under the purple sash tied tight around your head. 

You nod, his fingers tremble as he undoes the fabric and pulls it away from your body. 

You hear a sharp breathe and grin. 

Maker, you wish you could see his face right now. 

“You know-” You’ve got that big shit eating grin on your face and it makes Din’s heart beat even faster. “You can touch me, tincan. I promise.” 

You arch your back, presenting your chest to him even more and he feels like he may faint. 

“C’mon metalhead-” You tease. “-don’t leave a girl hangin’.”

In Din’s mind, the world has shrunk down to just the two of you, His hands frozen at his side suddenly snapped back into motion at your soft coo. 

His hands, scarred and rough, gently play with your pierced chest, his heart threatening to hammer right out of his chest when you moan and arch your back. 

“Fuck-” You gasp when he leans down and takes a nipple between his teeth, the other currently being rolled and tugged on by a hand shaking so bad you can feel it. “-that’s it Din.”

He moaned against your skin at the praise, letting his tongue savor the feeling of your soft skin and the cool metal. 

You were going to be his undoing.

Tovar

With Tovar, you both had fucked a few times before he ever found out. You belonged to the same group of mercenaries as him and William. Being the only woman meant you kept your guard up constantly, when Tovar began to find his way into your bedroll (after you propositioned him of course, he may be blunt but he isn’t a beast) it was quick, rough, efficient, neither one of you would even undress completely. Not that he didn’t know his way with a woman, oh no. You found your ecstasy each and every time you laid with him. Tovar would love nothing more than to unwrap you like the gift he believes you to be and spend hours unraveling you under the stars, but things didn’t work out that way. They were always on the move, mindful of wanderers waiting to pluck off travelers and rob them blind before sticking a knife in their gut. To dawdle with a lover meant being distracted, which couldn’t end well for either parties involved. 

Of course that wasn’t always the case, but you were as guarded and stoic as your lover, something William would tease his friend about endlessly. 

It wasn’t until the cruel chill of winter settled into your bones as frost coated the grounds you slept on at night that Tovar found his rough hands burrowing under your clothes. 

You had an iron grip on his wrist as you led one of his expert hands down your trousers, whimpering against his throat.

“It’s too fucking cold.” Tovar grunted in agreement, fingers slipping between your legs to rub your clit. 

“Let me warm you then-” In all the times you’ve laid with the Spaniard, this was the first time you felt the rough skin of his palm slide up your shirt and cup your chest. His hand froze against your skin before he growled, rucking up the fabric of your shirt over your chest. His eyes widened, taking in the piercings that glinted under the moonlight and leaned down, kissing you hard with a moan. 

“Do you mean to kill me woman?” You laugh at his words but it melts into a moan as his fingers curl inside of you while the other hand tugs and twists a nipple between his fingers. “Surely you want me dead.”

“I would never-” You smiled as he kissed down your chest, tongue lathering and worshiping every spot it touched. “-If you died, who would keep me warm?”

You didn’t think about how low you were when you cried out as he swirled his tongue around a pierced nipple before biting down. Pain shifting into hot pleasure as his hands and mouth worked simultaneously to bring you closer to the edge. 

He pulled away with a pop, breathing heavy and eyes wild as he stared down at you. “Nobody.” He answered, fingers curling and pushing you under hot waves of pleasure that kept rolling, uncaring if it was too much for you to handle. 

“No other man will keep you warm, or bring you pleasure.” The coil in your body was pulled tighter and tighter until it snapped, Tovar, the bastard, lets his fingers push you over the edge while he bit and sucked on the skin of your chest. Usually he would silence you with his own mouth, drowning out your cries of pleasure in a harsh kiss. 

But not tonight. He wanted them all to hear. Every other man in your group, and the next town over and the one after that. To let them all know that he was the only man to bring you such ecstasy, to see the wicked metal in your skin that was burned into his brain like a cruel brand. 

He’d have you scream it loud enough for the gods to hear him if he could. 

He was yours to use, and you were his to keep warm. 

Frankie 

This one is in the Frankie & BB universe, where reader is a camgirl that frankie falls for! Link for the intro hc post is here

Frankie had seen you topless the first night he met you. 

Well..the first night he saw your streams, of course. He was no stranger to women with piercings. He’d dating girls with nose rings and belly button piercings, even a pierced tongue once, but never did he find himself enamored with pierced nipples. 

Before he met you that is. 

Now he fantasizes about worshiping you, covering your chest in kisses and bites. Taking the pierced skin between his teeth with a gentle nip and savoring the way you breathe out his name and tangle your fingers in his hair. 

The way you’d look down at him beneath your lashes with that sweet smile before wrapping your legs around his waist, locking him in that spot for as long as you deem right. He’d want to stay in that moment forever. 

But those were fantasies, perverted little dreams that lived in his head while he watched you touch your chest on camera with a coy smile. He knew the feeling of your skin beneath his was something he’d never get to truly cherish. 

Until he finds himself two months later in your apartment with you sprawled out beneath him on your bed, his hands under your hoodie and marveling at the way you sing for him while he worships the smooth skin he’d longed for. 

Ezra

You had been working with ezra for a few cycles before the tension finally blew over one night. You grew fond of his fanciful stories, always painting such a vivid picture with his vast vernacular and slight southern lilt. Though you’d often tease him for his “Motormouth” as you called him, you enjoyed listening to his smooth voice paint stories as you worked.

He grew fond of your warm smiles and your laugh, oh your sweet laugh. He’d spend his life telling you stories if it meant you would never stop laughing. Such a sweet soul you were, he didn’t think the life of a harvester was one you were meant for. But you worked hard and plentiful, so much he asked if you wished to continue to work together. After the loss of his arm he could use the extra help on jobs, not that he enjoyed to admit it, and you were a pleasure to be around. 

The way your face lit up as if you had found the queens lair made his heart tie into a knot. 

“I’d like that motormouth.”

It was the same night you found the courage to kiss him. 

Ezra soon melted into the kiss, letting his tongue slip past your lips and his hand grabbing anywhere on you he could reach. You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling away only for a moment to pant out-

“Bed?”

Which is how Ezra found himself lying in his cot, flat on his back with you straddling him and kissing his neck. 

“I will admit I’ve thought of you in such a position many times but-” He let out a smooth chuckle when your hands pushed his shirt up his body. “-never did I believe it would actually happen under these circumstances.”

You had some smart remark on your tongue, but lost it as you pushed his shirt up to see the pierced skin of his chest. 

His hand rubbed circles on your waist as you stared at him with your mouth agape. “Have I rendered you speechless, sweet gem?” He has the air of a prize show dog, eyes confident and practically preening under your gaze. “We were just beginning to have fun.”

“No I just-” You shook your head with a light laugh. Your hands removed themselves from his shirt to pull at your own. 

“I didn't think we’d match, is all.”

You quickly shed your top, throwing it into some darkened corner of the room as Ezra took in the sight of your bare chest, soft and each nipple sporting silver bars that matched his own. 

A big grin grew on his face as he pulled you down for a heated kiss. His hand quickly grabbed and tugged at your chest while you did the same to him, both moaning in praise of the heavy touches. 

“It seems we must be made for one another, gentle soul.” He leans down and takes your nipples into his mouth while tugging on the other. The once lone harvester cherishes the way your moans seem to echo through the cot, a song sung for him and only him. 

One he hoped he could make you sing again. 

Maxwell & Valerie Lord 

This one is in the universe of my fic Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together, focusing on not only you and Maxwell, but his wife as well! Not super important to this because it’s only hc but Poly fic obvi. Chapter one ink is here if you're interested.

Maxwell and Valerie found out before they ever had you in bed. Valerie had been the first to find out actually, and all but sang about it the moment she got home to her dear husband. 

She was at your shop, as she usually was during the day. That day she had huffed and puffed about some “friend” that was less of a friend and more of a nuisance, but one she kept around anyways. You listened to her berate the woman as you hemmed a sundress with a smile, occasionally chiming in here and there with your own words on the dreaded socialite, causing the ice queen herself to laugh and smile. 

“See!” She pointed to you with a congratulatory grin. “This is why you're my fucking favorite!”

You shook your head and stood up, moving to the next article of clothing to alter. A tux that needed to be taken in. 

But as you stepped to grab the suit jacket, you lost your footing on a wire that poked out front the carpet and stumbled. Luckily you caught yourself before falling to the floor, but not without your shirt, which was buttoned dangerously low in the way that Valerie and her husband loved, shifted and got the richest woman in D.C a quick peek at the bare, brown, skin that she dreamed of for months. 

She took in a sharp breath, taking her bottom lip between her teeth to hide any noises made at the quick reveal. 

Piercings? My oh my you were full of surprises. 

She covered her reaction well enough it seemed. After shifting your shirt with no words, you sat back down and began to mark the jacket with tailors chalk. 

Unknowing that Valerie’s heart beat against her ribs like the wings of a hummingbird. 

The moment she got home she called Maxwell’s office and insisted she speak to her husband that instant, who was currently in the middle of a meeting. 

His secretary, a replacement for the one before that she loathed, was quick to transfer her to her husband. 

“Darling-” His voice was gentle but scolding, no doubt looking up at the men in the room with him. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, but I’ll speak to you later, alright?”

“Oh?” Her voice was full of faux innocence that her husband knew he was going to dread picking up the phone. “So you don’t want to know what I saw when I visited our girl?”

At the mention of you, Maxwell shifted in his chair. 

Our girl. Hearing his wife say those sweet words send his heart into a frenzy. Truthfully you were what brought them back together, showing them a way of love they didn’t know they had for each other as well as you. 

Something you didn’t even know you did for them. 

“And what’s that my dear?”

 He held up a finger to the men in the room with an apologetic smile. It was returned with patient nods and absent minded waves, insisting he continue his phone call. 

Of course they wouldn’t tell him to hang up. He was Maxwell fucking Lord. 

“Well-” his wife purred, his voice causing a strain in his trousers. “Today, I caught a little peek.”

Maxwell cleared his throat. 

“Not on purpose of course.” She further explained, wrapping the telephone cord around her finger as she spoke. “But she tripped, stumbled a bit and well-” His wife sighed, letting her head fall back as she closed her eyes in memory. “Oh she looked so soft Maxie, you should’ve been there.”

“It certainly sounds like it.” Maxwell’s mind ran rampant with the image alone of seeing you in such disarray, his wife sultry tone did nothing to quell the fire. “Now if we can continue this conversation when I get home-”

“She’s pierced too.”

Maxwell pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to feign annoyance in front of the other men so they didn’t see the way he gripped the phone so hard it nearly cracked in his grip. “Excuse me?”

Valerie hummed. “You heard me handsome. Pierced. She looks so pretty with it.” He could hear the little hitch in her breath that told him she was just as unraveled as he was by the news. “I bet it feels so nice to tug on and touch, oh fuck.”

Of course she didn’t have to hide it. 

“Type?” His voice was even and composure cool even as his mind was flooding with images, fantasies that he’d do anything to make a reality. 

The love of his life, his queen and fucking she-demon in life simply giggled. 

“Come home and I’ll tell you all about them.” She blew a kiss into the receiver before hanging up. 

Maxwell sighed, masking himself in great aggravation and fatigue at the phone call. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to reschedule this meeting gentlemen.” He rolled his eyes. “My wife is practically in pieces and insists I come home to take care of her this instant. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

A man in a cheap suit chuckled and waved the CEO off. “Nonsense Mr.Lord, we all know how it can be with women.”

He knew damn well none of these schmucks knew how it could be with his women. 

Maxwell sighed and hung his head. “Isn’t that the truth boys.”

A few handshakes later and a stern order to his secretary and he was walking down the steps of his building to the car waiting for him outside. The moment he got in he slammed the door shut hard enough the car itself shook and he fished out two hundred dollars from his wallet. 

“Sir?” Daniels, his driver spoke warily. Maxwell let out a shaking breath, running a hand through his blonde locks and pulling his shoulders back before turning to his driver with a harsh stare.

“Get me home in the next five minutes and this money is yours.”

[jacklyn-flynn]

I'm so excited to be posting the first of the three prizes from my mini-giveaway! This one is for @noire-pandora and it features her Warden, Arissa. This was the HDJ she picked:

Alistair starts writing a journal when he realizes he’s falling in love with the Warden. It chronicles both his feelings for them and the events going on during the Blight. He puts in it his fears and aspirations, his dreams of them and their life together. How beautiful they look when they’re sleeping or laughing and how he feels about being intimate with them. Sketches and poems. Whatever comes to mind about them when he opens the journal that day. He gives it to them on their wedding day.

FAIR WARNING: I cried writing this. Twice. And once when I was planning it out in my head falling asleep one night.

TW: Death

Alistair settled onto the soft grass, leaning back against the cool stone that shaded him from the summer sun. “Good morning, my love.” He untied the bindings of a worn leather journal and opened it to a random page. Smiling fondly, his fingers traced over a drawing. It was a rough sketch of his beautiful Arissa sitting on a log next to a fire, though the upper torso and face had far more detail than the rest.

“Mmm, I like this one,” he said conversationally, bringing his knees up to prop up the journal on them so it could be viewed over his shoulder.

“I caught you staring at me today. I didn’t give away that I knew though because I was afraid you would stop doing it. I love it when I’m the only thing those stormy-sea blue eyes care about.” He sighed softly, running a finger along a jagged edge where a page was missing.

“I tried to draw them once, but I hated it and tore the page out so you wouldn’t laugh at me. Now I wish I’d kept it.” He turned the page and pushed the regret to the back of his mind with all the others.

He laughed aloud when he found the specific entry he was looking for. “Andraste’s toenail clippings, look at how shaky my hand was when I wrote this. I was so nervous. Which was silly I suppose. Maybe I was just worried that you wouldn’t want to sleep with me again.”

“I can’t believe it happened. With you!” he read aloud, “You’re so beautiful and I never dreamed you would pick me. To share our first time together. You were so perfect like I knew you would be. Like you always are. Nothing else mattered. Just you. Darkspawn could have overtaken our camp and I never would have noticed. The only thing I wanted to do was make you happy.”

Alistair shifted positions, crossing his legs in front of him. “All these years later and that’s still the only thing I want in the world. To make you happy, Arissa.” He looked up at her face over his shoulder, smiling at just the sight of her. “To return even a tenth of what you’ve brought me.”

Flipping to another random page, he opened the journal wide. He read the first line on the page silently, skimming the contents of the entry. “I think this one is my favorite,” he declared, cheeks flushing as the memory came rushing back to him. He cleared his throat before reading it aloud.

“My dearest Alistair, I promise I didn’t read anything! I just found the next blank page in your journal. If you want something to write about in your next entry come and find me in that spot you showed me when we got here…”

A shiver ran down his back. It was the exact sensation that he’d gotten the first time he’d read it and every time after that. They’d just arrived at Eamon’s and he’d given her a quick tour of the place where he’d spent his early childhood. At least, those areas he’d been allowed to enter. Before he continued reading what he’d written below her words, he took a moment to admire her handwriting. The only piece of it he knew existed. Her letters were fairly tight together but long and flowing with beautiful curves and flourished angles. Made to be able to fit tight notes in the margins of books.

“I don’t even know what to write, Arissa. Seeing you waiting for me in that beautiful black dress (if it could be called that) with your raven hair free and that nervousness in your glorious green eyes….it was as if all of those missed named days and Satinalia’s had come together in one perfect moment for a single present that I will cherish forever.”

“The best part was watching you relax when I told you how beautiful you were. It made my heart sing to realize that you believed me when I said it. How you went from nervous and shy to that uninhibited and enthusiastic lover I’ve come to know. You are, without a doubt, the best thing to ever happen to me. You had no idea this journal was for you when you wrote in it, but I definitely want you to know exactly what I thought about it…”

Alistair flipped a few pages over, chuckling. ���Sweet Andraste’s belly button lint. I went on for three pages? I wonder how long it took me to write it. Probably a lot longer than it felt. I wrote everything that happened that night.” He paused, eyes skimming over a few sentences in the middle. “In great detail, Zevran would be impressed.”

He thumbed through the remaining pages until he was looking at the inside of the back cover. In Denerim he’d sewn in a small leather pocket. He carefully untied the waxed cord and pulled out the delicate ring wrapped in silk from inside the crude pouch.

Alistair’s vision blurred and he crushed his palm against his left eye, wiping away his tears before brushing roughly at the other eye with the sleeve of his tunic.

“The only thing that I regret was not asking you. I told myself I wanted to until it was all over but really I was afraid you’d say no. Maker, that was so stupid! Sometimes I wish I had been the one to do it, to become the Hero of Ferelden. How selfish is that? Not for the title, but so that you’d be alive. And yet, I am relieved I didn’t. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. This…emptiness. I would rather have you than a martyr but I would also rather carry this burden so that you can rest in the peace you deserve.”

“I almost didn’t come here to leave these for you. I feel like they’re all I have left of you but they were always for you. One to ask you to marry me, the other for the day you did. So you could see how I felt about you from the moment I knew I would marry you. I just never got the chance to give either of them to you.” Closing the journal and clutching the ring tightly in his palm, he stood and looked up at the white granite monument of the Hero of Ferelden.

“I wished they’d made a statue of you smiling. It was so rare that you did it and I’m afraid the world will forget how beautiful it was. But, Leliana said that your smile was a gift to the people you loved most and that all of us who were graced with it will keep that memory. I guess she was right. Every time I close my eyes and think of you, which is every time I close them, I see that smile.”

He knelt in front of the epitaph at the base of her monument and set down the journal, placing the ring on top. He pulled a cord from around his neck over his head and slipped the key into a hidden slot in the “I” of Arissa. Once it was turned, he pressed the “O” in Hero. With a small click, a lip popped out of the base. He slid his fingers into the gap and gave it a quick tug to pull out the small hidden drawer.

Placing the journal into it next to a dried rose, he laid the ring on top after a few moments of hesitation. With a sigh, he pushed the hidden drawer closed until it locked into place and the “O” popped back out. He withdrew the key and slipped the cord over his neck again before tucking it under his shirt.

Stepping down, he backed up to get a good look at her. “I’ll see you again,” he promised, struggling to talk past the lump in his throat, “should the Maker allow me to get close enough to your hallowed countenance at your place by His side.”

“Until then, I’ll see you in my dreams at night and do my best to make you proud when I am awake. To do as much as I can with the life your sacrifice has granted me and the people of Ferelden. I lo-” his voice caught and he had to take a moment to compose himself.

“I love you, Arissa.” He got the words out on his second try though they were barely more than a whisper. “I’ll see you soon enough.”

[mattzerella-sticks]

Before the Night Ends

Dean/Castiel, 2.1k words, post-Wedding/pre-Honeymoon

ao3

It's been a wedding for the ages. Dean and Castiel finally tied the knot, with guests flying in from all across America, Heaven, Hell - even the Empty. But everything must come to an end, and after a wonderful Roadhouse reception Dean and Cas drove off in Baby and off towards their honeymoon.

Except, it's a long drive from Kansas plains to California beaches. They stop close to midnight at a motel along the highway, to sleep, celebrate their wedding night and that it's Valentine's Day, too.

           There’s a motel off Highway 70 called Angel’s Paradise, first established in the early 1900s, and last renovated in 1982. The owners back then, who remain so today, envisioned heaven as some tropical destination. That meant each room, alike in their simplicity and functionality, would be redone along these guidelines. Walls plastered with paper-print palm fronds and blooming, pink flowers. Bathrooms tiled a light blue – like waters from the clearest ocean – and little soaps shaped like shells to match the shell-patterned shower curtain. They’d have an entertainment unit housing a small television set would double as a dust collector, various ocean-themed knick-knacks cluttered atop it, ranging from homemade to store bought. A wicker table situated between two wicker chairs, a wicker dresser placed next to the entertainment unit and a wicker bed-or-beds layered by their own palm fronds, matching the walls. Finally, tying the décor together was a little (wicker) side table near the door with a plastic conch set to catch keys or loose change or cigarette ash. Given these changes, any customer might imagine they were in Florida rather then Colorado, or it was June instead of February. Especially in the crown jewel of Angel’s Paradise, the Honeymoon Suite.

           Except the Suite’s current boarders were very aware of where and when they are. Probably because they have yet to see their room for the night.

           Dean tucks his hands into his elbows, shivering outside the Suite while Cas fiddles with its doorknob. “Come on,” he whines, “what’s the hold-up?”

           Cas pauses, turning to Dean. “Sorry,” he says, “the lady at the counter – she said they were having issues since the last occupants. Something about them breaking the lock?”

           “Fuckin’ a…” Dean hisses, bouncing now. An icy wind cuts across the parking lot, Dean defenseless to it because he forwent a heavier jacket and how thin the material of his suit was. Castiel looks marginally warmer than Dean, wrapped in his trademark trench coat. Still, Dean notices how his hands tremble while holding the key. Cas’s hand flicks to the left, Dean’s gaze catching the silver band wrapped around his ring finger. One day, he may get used to it. Dean hopes he never does and can experience the same flutter of warmth rippling through his heart from seeing it. He leans into Cas, Dean dropping his head onto Cas’s shoulder. “Who do I have to pray to for this door to open?”

           “No one,” Cas declares, lock clicking in time with his words, “because it’s open!”

           Dean curses under breath, smiling. “Great,” he says, “let’s get in there, then – hey… hey!”

           Swept off his feet, Dean falls into the loving grip of his husband. Cas places one arm at his back, supporting most of the weight, while the other arm traps Dean’s knees, keeping his legs bent and Dean unable to wriggle himself free. Cas smiles down at him, laughing.

           “You think this is so funny,” Dean scowls, holding onto Cas’s tie like it were a lifeline. “You little shit –“

           “Mr. Shit, Dean,” Cas interrupts, kicking the door open and striding past the threshold, “I did take your last name, after all.”

           “My mistake…” He huffs, burying his head in Cas’s chest while he uses the fingers not squeezing Cas’s tie to comb the hairs at his husband’s neck. “Dean and Castiel Shit… I can see the monogramed towels already.” Dean closes his eyes, purring like a kitten while he absorbs the heat that radiates from Cas. It’s inhuman how much of a furnace he was, especially after giving up his grace to live as a human, to be human with Dean. Like always, Dean’s smile widens at the thought. He tries hiding his rapidly flushing face, but Cas tears Dean off of him. He ungraciously dumps Dean onto the bed, blue eyes betraying his cool demeanor as they glow with mirth from Dean’s startled squawking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

           “Going to get the bags,” he says, moving towards the door, “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.”

           Dean shakes his head, situating himself better on the bed. He sits at the foot of it, toeing off his snakeskin boots and then peeling off the dark grey dress socks he wore with them. While pulling at his tie, Cas returns with their bags. He doesn’t close the door after, and a blustery chill fills the space. Goosepimples erupt in scattered bunches up and down Dean’s arms. “Close the door!” he yells, dumping the tie onto the slowly growing pile of discarded clothing. His suit jacket joins his tie and socks and boots as Cas deposits their bags by the television. He then hits the door with his elbow, shutting out the wind. Cas gestures at the closed door with a flourish and wry grin. Dean scoffs, “Ugh, who’s bright idea was it to do this in winter?”

           “The same man who, on his birthday, said,” Cas drifts closer, helping Dean unbutton his shirt, “and I quote, ‘If you think you can propose to me and not expect us to get married as soon as possible, then you don’t know what you’re signing up for… buddy’.” Cas eases the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, kissing the exposed skin right above his t-shirt. “For the record,” Cas adds, whispering into his collarbone, “I expected it. It was one of the reasons why I couldn’t wait any longer.”

           Dean remembers. Their family, together, celebrating Dean’s birthday. His first birthday free from Chuck’s machinations, with a cake Jack spent all day baking and presents that lined the end of the table. He held Cas’s hand as he blew out the candles, mind blank because nothing he could wish for would match the happiness he felt in that moment. He tells Cas this after he asks what he wished for. And Cas, of course, proceeds to kiss him. Cas kisses him while Eileen cut the cake, while Jack helped plate them, and while Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders in warning to reign it in. Dean pulled back, gasping, unsure how he might respond to his then-boyfriend’s passion. Then Cas asked him that all-important, heart-stopping, mind-blowing question, opened a velvet box, and Dean knew exactly what to say.

           “I would’ve waited,” Dean reveals, helping Cas with his clothes as Cas guides Dean’s legs out of his slacks. “Everyone knows how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you… I would’ve waited, even if we died and we had to get married in heaven.” Dean pecks Cas’s lips, divesting him of both jackets and his button-down shirt. “I’m glad we didn’t have to, though.”

           “So am I.”

           They stand together in t-shirts and boxers, barely an inch of space between them. No one speaks, not that they have to, but the usually comfortable silence makes Dean nervous. His focus drifts from Cas and onto the plastic conch behind him. Then, he notices how the rest of the room is decorated. Dean giggles, “Wow… it’s, this place is…”

           Cas nods. Dean needn’t say anything else. “You should’ve seen the inside,” he snickers, “the staff were wearing Hawaiian shirts and shark-tooth necklaces.”

           “Hey,” Dean shoves him, “don’t diss Hawaiian shirts.” He collects his clothes and boots, bringing them over to their duffels. “I’ve got about three packed away in here, and I’m planning on buying at least a few more before our honeymoon ends.”

           “Should they even be called Hawaiian shirts if we’re not in Hawaii?” Cas asks. Dean hears the mattress squeak, and guesses his husband sat on the bed. He digs through the duffel, Cas monologuing in the background. “Are they called Coloradan shirts since we’re in Colorado? If we buy them in California, won’t they be Californian Shirts? Or is it because they’re made in Hawaii, and then shipped elsewhere? Can you imagine it – shirt factories, dotting the beaches? Oh, I’d hope the workers making all these Hawaiian shirts are at least being paid a fair wage, given how popular they seem to be…”

           “There’s no factories on any beaches,” Dean tells him, “and – hate to burst your bubble, angel – but I doubt Hawaiian shirt makers are paid what they deserve, regardless of where their factories are.” Cas hums in that same, sullen note he usually does when the beginning notes of Sarah McLachlan play and Dean can’t switch channels fast enough. He folds his clothes, setting them aside. Then, Dean sneaks his hand into his stack of clean boxers, finding the surprise he hid for his husband. “Hey,” Dean rises, “capitalism sucks, but we can’t let it ruin our trip.” Dean drops onto Cas’s lap, delighting in the tiny ‘oof’ that escapes from his husband. “Here,” he says, “I was saving this for later… but hell, we’re running out of time. I’d rather give it to you before the night ends than a day later.” Dean hands him an envelope, Cas’s name scrawled on the front. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

           “A card?” Cas asks, flipping the envelope back and forth, “Dean… you didn’t have to get me anything.”

           “’Course I did…” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’s temple, ruffling his hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day… probably the first Valentine’s Day I actually wanted to celebrate in a long time, because I’ve got someone I love and want to celebrate. And sure, it’s not like we didn’t do just that… in front of all our friends and families… and a few exes… and uninvited guests –“

           “The point, Dean?”

           “Sorry,” Dean lays his head atop Cas’s, watching him peel away the envelope’s glue. “We’ll have tons more holidays and anniversaries to celebrate in the future… I just didn’t want our first Valentine’s Day to be overshadowed by our wedding. You mean so much to me that I’m not gonna just lump the two together like you’re some kid who was unlucky enough to be born on Christmas. You deserve it all.” Cas flips the envelope, shaking its contents free. A pair of red panties floats onto his outstretched hand. “Not just some stinkin’ card.”

           Cas squeezes the panties. “Are you –?”

           “About to show you how friggin’ fantastic married sex is?” Dean wrangles the panties from Cas’s fist, waving it about like a flag. “You bet. Let me slip these on and…“ He starts towards the bathroom, Cas slowly chasing him.

           “You don’t have to,” his husband growls, “you can change here –“

           “Cas, I won’t be long –“

           “I don’t know if I can wait!”

           “You’ll have to!” Dean closes the door on Cas’s face, laughing as he hears his husband bang against the door in protest. He yells for Dean, but Dean ignores him. Dean brings his hand to his face, covering his mouth with both it and the panties he carries. They smell like cherries. He forgot to tell Cas they’re edible. Cas will figure that out later.

           He’ll also give Cas his real card later, as well. The one he wrote using all the words Dean was too afraid to say at the altar. Little details about the way Cas hogs all the blankets when he sleeps, and how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and that Cas’s hugs chase away dark thoughts better than any drink might’ve. There were also bigger things he mentioned, in this card. About Cas and his unwavering faith in Dean, even at times where he didn’t deserve it. About the despair that bloomed whenever Cas left his side, a bouquet of horrid, wilted roses growing rampantly over his heart and piercing it with their thorns during those awful times it seemed their last goodbye truly was. About the love Cas inspired within Dean that changed his life, from the very beginning, from the touch of Cas’s hand on his shoulder. That simple act which broke him free from Chuck’s wheel again and again and again. Dean couldn’t say any of this in a crowded room. He doubts he can with only Cas. He already cried enough for one day. So, they’ll have sex instead. After they’ve burned through the remaining fumes that linger in their tanks, Dean will present the card, curl against Cas’s side with his head tucked underneath his husband’s chin, and listen while Cas reads how much he means to Cas.

           But that won’t be until later. Now, Dean shimmies out of his boxers. He pulls the panties on, flicking the bow twice once it’s settled. “Are you ready?” Dean croons, jiggling the knob, “because it’s time to ride ‘em, cowboy!”

           Cas pries the door loose, almost ripping it off its hinges as pull Dean forward into a searing kiss. Dean smiles into it, letting Cas take lead. Dean’s gift were the panties. Cas’s gift is putting in the work to get them off. Cas throws Dean onto the bed, his mouth attacking Dean’s neck. His hand trails down Dean’s side, tickling and teasing him.

           He couldn’t have written a better ending to his story. Or imagine a better beginning to his next.

[laudedliar]

Was looking for some fluff.  So I wrote it.

Fluffy wuffy was a mage

~~~~~~~~

Dorian sat watching the sun setting over the mountainous skyline.  It’s ray bright and yellow against the fading blue of the evening sky.  Dusky reds mingled with darkening purple which gave way to star dappled velvet black.  The air was cooling rapidly and it sent shivers prickling down his arms.  His breath curled in white tendrils in the cold mountain air.

Cold.  He hated the cold.  And yet, still, he was here.  In the Frostback Mountains, long after they had sealed the breach and sent the blighted ancient Magister to his crypt for the final time.  Adaar and Iron Bull had asked him to extend his stay afterward, even as he mentioned returning home to Tevinter.  So he had.  He’d extended it again.  And again.

Though why he felt compelled to remain was a mystery to him.  Other than the occasional dalliance into the wilderness to help some hapless soul or other, Dorian had no real ties to SkyHold.  And yet... He couldn’t seem to find it in him to leave.  Not yet.

“Are you not cold, Pavus?”  A warm voice asked, startling him from his musing.

“Commander.  I didn’t hear you approach.”  Dorian muttered, turning to blink widely at the blonde ex-Templar.

The man smiled softly at him.  An almost wistful look in his eyes that locked firmly with the mage’s own.  A look that piqued Dorian’s interest as much as it caused insecurities to wriggle within his chest.  Insecurities that feasted upon the withered heart he so carefully protected as fiercely as a dragon.

And yet those golden brown eyes that finally broke from his to look upon the darkening horizon had somehow caused a shudder to wrack the precarious foundation of self-assurance he’d been able to rely upon in recent years.

“Yes, I am cold.  Freezing, actually.  But I’ve found that if you stand in the cold before taking a bath it is so much more enjoyable.”  Dorian finally answered finally.

Cullen glanced at him from the corner of his eye.  Poised and regal looking in his armored overcoat, ubiquitous sword belted to his hip, palms resting on the plain leather bound brass pommel.  “My sister makes the same claim.  I find it makes the water feel too hot.”

“Says the man who slept with a hole in his roof for almost a year.”  Dorian quipped, smirking at the other.

“We were far too busy to spare anyone to fix it.”

The Tevinter’s eyes crinkled in amusement as he chuckled.  “Fereldans.  One step away from being Avvar barbarians.”

“We just run warmer than other’s.”  Cullen remarked, the last of the sun’s rays glinting golden off his hair.

“Speaking of warmth, I think I’m going to find that bath.”  He paused, eyes gazing over the Commander’s shadowed outline.  “You might consider one for yourself.  I can smell the rigors of your training circle from here.”

The blonde turned his gaze back to Dorian.  The air between them suddenly felt oddly heavy, weighted with an unidentified intensity.  A hum between them that heated the blood now pulsing quickly through every limb.

It reminded Dorian of when Cullen’s hand brushed his during their chess game a few days before, the Commander mumbling an apology as his cheeks turned red.  Or a few weeks prior when Dorian had walked into the other’s tower without knocking (honestly it had been well into the morning by then) and got a surprising eyeful of the blonde standing in nearly nothing while shaving.  Mind, Dorian had gone up the ladder even after Cullen had called that he would be down momentarily.  He had not shouted or balked at the sudden intrusion, instead only turned those calm brown eyes in the mage’s direction and mumbled a brief apology for his tardiness.

A strong, sword calloused hand reached up to rub at the warrior’s broad jaw line, scruffing along the rough, ever present stubble.  “I do need to shave as well.”  The blonde muttered, eyes losing focus as he looked over Dorian’s shoulder back towards the courtyard below them.

A still passed over the mage and he scrutinized the warrior for a moment before ever so softly suggesting: “I can help with that, if you like.”

Those honey-brown eyes sharpened and slipped back to Dorian’s face.  Even in the dark he could feel them scrutinizing every inch of his face.  He schooled his features even as his heart fluttered madly at the sheer audacity of his suggestion.

Altus Dorian Pavus shave Commander Cullen Rutherford?  Absurd.

And yet...  The very idea sent excitement skittering over his skin, warming him enough that he forgot all about the cold that bit at his fingers and toes.

“Could you?”  Cullen said thoughtfully.  “I wouldn’t want a ridiculous moustache.”  He warned, but it was tempered by the smile that stretched across his face.

“Never!  Only a man of class is capable of pulling off such a statement piece.”

One eyebrow rose as the other’s smile down turned.  “Well, as a man of taste, I have to respectfully disagree.”

Dorian’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open with a shocked gasp.  “Commander!  Your wicked tongue wounds me once again.”  He chuckled.  A shiver shook his whole frame.  “I don’t quite understand how cold can bite straight to the bone.”  He said as he turned to walk along the battlements and down the stairs towards the bathing rooms in the lower levels of the keep.  He barely heard the soft scrape of booted feet following behind him over the pounding of his heart.

The natural hot springs beneath the keep kept the bathing room warm and humid.  Tucked into a small side cove was a table with soap, towels, and baskets to carry any dirty clothing back to the laundry.  Dorian paused in front of a table beneath a small mirror, a well cared for (enchanted to ensure no rusting) set of shaving tools in a leather pouch, and a bowl of lathering soap and brush.  The communal bathing room was empty, and the soft splash of Cullen’s boots through the gathered puddles on the uneven stone floor echoed through the low domed chamber.

“Perhaps... Perhaps a bath first.”  He suggested, eyeing the tools laid neatly on the tables before turning to look at his companion.

The blonde suddenly looked lost, shifting foot to foot, eyes darting around the room to look at anything but Dorian.  The Tevinter watched as the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously and nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps.”  Cullen answered softly.

Slowly, cautiously, Dorian began to unbuckle the straps on his top.  His eyes never left the other’s face, noting each small twitch along the stoic warrior’s facade, every brief glance at the mage and away.  It was thrilling.  Exciting to watch the color creep up Cullen’s neck and cheeks as he undressed in front of him.  Ever so carefully, Dorian let his shirt fall to a nearby empty basket before he began to work on the buttons of his pants.

Cullen swallowed again and stepped back.  “Maker’s breath.  I, uhm, actually remembered there are reports.  In the w-war room.  Yes, in the war room.  If you have time tom-morrow, I would be amenable-” The blonde stuttered and stumbled over his words, cheeks and ears redder than the rising sun.

“You smell.”  Dorian blurted out.

“Excuse me?”  Cullen asked, affronted.

“You, my dear Commander, stink.  I cannot allow you to wander these grand halls in your state.  Think of the scandal!  Nobles would flee every time you came into a room afterward.  Poor Lady Montilyet would be swamped with requests to have you scrubbed before every important meeting, to be perfumed in the heaviest scents available before your appearances.”  Dorian said dramatically.

Slowly Cullen’s lips quirked upwards and he snorted a soft laugh at the imagery.  “At least I won’t politely have to decline any more marriage proposals.”

“Ha!  You’d never get another proposal again.  Not after gracing the masses smelling akin to the back end of an ogre.”

One dark blonde eyebrow quirked up.  “I don’t smell that bad.”  Cullen groused.

“No, that was an overstatement.  But only by a small margin.”  Dorian smirked.

“I am rather tired, though.”  Cullen said wearily, eyes once more flickering along the mage’s exposed torso to his face.

“A bath would be helpfully relaxing then.”  He answered in turn.

Brown eyes darted away and a pink tongue traced along scarred lips as the warrior contemplated the deep pool of warm waters.  “I suppose you’re right.”  Fingers scarred from sword play slowly began to work free the latches and buckles along the heavy armor.

“Of course I’m right.”  Dorian said, a little breathier than he would have preferred.  He began to work the buttons on his pants once again, drawing golden eyes back to him with the motion.  His skin burned with pleasure as he noted the way Cullen’s eyes widened just slightly as he began to wiggle his pants down over his hips, sliding the leather garment down his thighs slowly.

A soft catch in the ex-Templar’s breath as he kicked the garment off and let it fall into the basket with his shirt excited Dorian in ways he hadn’t experienced in a very long time indeed.

“Do you need assistance?”  He asked, voice low and husky with unbidden emotion as he stepped forward towards the blonde completely bare.  Cullen’s throat flexed as he swallowed thickly once again, his back going rigid as the space between them was closed.

“I-” The blonde started, then paused as their eyes met.

“You?”

“Can manage.”  Cullen breathed out, so quietly the sound would have been lost had not Dorian been mere inches from him.

The atmosphere between the two swirled warm and electric.  And Dorian understood then so much more.  He suddenly could place the lingering gaze across the chess board, the gentle rumble of laughter at an inane comment, the grazing touch at the dining table.  He saw the meaning behind all those small moments.  How they built and coalesced into what now sat heavy between them, drawing them in with magnetic force.

“Wonderful.”  Dorian sighed and stepped away, moving over to the water of the pool.  He dipped a toe in to test the warmth before sliding in gracefully.  He could feel his counterpart’s eyes on him, even as he listened to the other’s armor being unbuckled and the clank of steel as it was set to the side.

He turned to look back, lowering himself into the water until it lapped along his collarbone and lounged as he watched Cullen pull his shirt over his head.  Revealing a thickly muscled torso wrapped in cream pale skin. Maker’s breath indeed.  The warrior’s pants were removed unceremoniously and tossed to the side with his shirt and the blonde stepped quickly into the pool of water, clearly self conscious about being nude in front of another.

Dorian laughed before slipping under the water and swimming just under the surface until he came up beside Cullen.  His grin was feral as he took in the man’s flushed cheeks and shifting poise.  Lifting his hand he ever so gently traced his fingers over the curling strands that brushed along the back of the blonde’s neck.

“Seems you’ll need a haircut as well.”  He said sounding calm and assured even as inside he thrummed in exhilaration.

“Yes.  Am I to believe you are a barber in your free time?”  Cullen asked, watching Dorian from the corner of his eye as the Tevinter slowly circled around behind him, fingers tracing over the fine hairs along the back of his neck.

Dorian snickered gleefully as gooseflesh pimpled along the blonde’s arms at his touch.  “I am a man of many talents.”  He said, daring to step close enough Cullen’s arm brushed against his belly and his words stirred the hair curled about his ear.

“Excepting chess.”  Cullen teased, turning his head to face Dorian.  Eye to eye the two stood so close they could feel the soft puff of breath from the each other.  Misty steam rose from Dorian’s skin, swirling in dancing tendrils around them.

“Well, I have to let you win at something.  You are a poor hand at cards.”  Silver eyes moved down to linger on slender, pink lips and Dorian wet his own nervously.

Cullen huffed an attempted laugh as calloused fingers ever so gently found their way to the underside of Dorian’s jaw where they traced along the delicate bone, following the curve to cup the side of his cheek gently.  Brown eyes hooded and the warrior’s head tilted just slightly in invitation, lips parting wantonly.  “And what if I let you win?”  He asked.  “What then?”

“Win at what, Commander?”  Dorian replied.  They were so close now the movement of their words whispered a touch between them.

“Whatever you want.  Whatever you desire.”

“I have quite a few of those.  Desires.”  He breathed just before their lips met warm and soft.  And he knew just what it was that had kept him at SkyHold for so long.  And what would keep him there for much longer yet.

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 9

Okay, so I didn’t quite follow the prompt, but - um - here

[AO3]

x

Getting a little of his own back on Lacey French put Gold in a good mood, and he couldn’t help grinning to himself as he opened the shop the next day. It felt as though he had regained a little of his equilibrium. As long as he didn’t think about what she might be doing with the sex toys.

It was Friday, and he was further cheered by the knowledge that Neal and Emma were visiting that evening, and bringing his young grandson Henry with them. Henry was just over a year old, and kept his parents on his toes. Gold was looking forward to spending the weekend with his family, and was easily able to distract himself with planning for their visit whenever Lacey French wandered into his head.

Neal was late, an accident on the interstate causing severe delays, and it was almost eight when they reached Gold’s house.

“Sorry,” said Neal, looking harassed, as he dragged a suitcase into the hall. “That journey was a nightmare.”

“Hey, Pops.” 

Neal’s wife Emma leaned in to kiss his cheek, Henry tucked into the crook of her arm and a diaper bag in her other hand. She glanced at Neal.

“Can you get the stroller? I need to change him and put him to bed.”

“Sure thing.”

“I was making dinner,” said Gold, still holding the door. “I figured it would be too late to take Henry to Granny’s by the time you got here. Twenty minutes?”

“Perfect,” said Neal, heading out of the door again. “Wouldn’t say no if you offered me a drink, either.”

Gold smiled to himself, leaving the door open and heading back to the kitchen. It looked as though his good mood would continue for the whole weekend.

x

Lacey herself was in a bad mood, which was only partly due to Gold’s insufferable behaviour on her doorstep. It wasn’t as though she minded him knowing she used sex toys; she was certainly comfortable enough in her own sexuality not to care what others might think about it. It was more that she had found herself tongue-tied and blushing when he brought them over. Being flustered was something she wasn’t used to: at least not so people noticed.

She had been trying to think of a way she could get him to agree to an interview that didn’t involve embarrassing herself further, but as yet hadn’t come up with anything. Her interview with Zelena West was pencilled in for Monday morning, so she had spent Friday preparing for it by talking to other people to get a more balanced picture of Zelena’s charitable works than her own self-promotion. She clocked off at five-thirty, wishing Sidney a good weekend, and hurried home to eat dinner and change before meeting Ruby in The Rabbit Hole at seven.

Over the few weeks she had been in town, she had gotten a fairly good idea of the type that frequented The Rabbit Hole. Sad drunks, lamenting their lives, young women with nothing better to do, and young men desperately trying to find a woman who wasn’t too picky for a night of meaningless sex. She had to admit to herself that some of them were her usual type, being good looking assholes with more between their legs than their ears, but she was surprised to find that she wasn’t tempted to make another poor choice. Perhaps she was growing up.

“You deserve better than them anyway,” said Ruby, when she mentioned it. “Ashley says Keith has no staying power, if you know what I mean. Glad she took one for the team, because…” She shuddered, pulling a face, and Lacey chuckled.

“Don’t need to bother with sub-par sex,” she said. “Besides, I got my sex toy delivery. I can take care of myself.”

“Tell me when your article gets published,” said Ruby, winking. “I could do with some recommendations.”

“I recommend you don’t let your neighbour open the damn box,” remarked Lacey, taking a drink, and Ruby chuckled.

“I wish I’d seen his face.”

“God, I wish I hadn’t,” sighed Lacey, leaning back on her stool. “The little bastard just stood there smirking at me like it had made his bloody day. I was right when I told Sidney he hated me.”

“Maybe it’s because you saw him naked,” suggested Ruby, stirring her drink, and Lacey frowned.

“That was an accident,” she said. “And if he didn’t insist on getting his cock out every five minutes it wouldn’t happen.”

“Yeah, but it did happen,” said Ruby, gesturing with a straw. “Twice. You’re probably the only person in Storybrooke that knows what he keeps under that suit of his. Not that I’ve been wondering, or anything.”

“So?” Lacey took a slurp of her drink. “He seems pretty comfortable with being naked. Like way too comfortable, if you ask me. I can’t take that trail through the woods in case he’s out there, swinging it around.”

Ruby burst out laughing, shaking her head.

“Look, all I mean is, he’s a very private person, and no matter how comfortable he is being naked by himself, he’s buttoned up to the neck the rest of the time,” she said. “You seeing everything he’s got to offer put him on the defensive. Hence he’s in asshole mode. To the power ten.”

“Got that right,” muttered Lacey moodily. “And Sidney wants me to interview him. No way he’ll agree.”

“Not right now,” agreed Ruby. “So you’ll need to find a way to apologise. Even the score.”

Lacey pursed her lips.

“Even the score,” she said slowly. “I could do that.”

x

Lacey slapped a hand against her phone, silencing the alarm and cursing herself for forgetting to turn it off. She rolled onto her back, rubbing her hands over her face and grumbling at the ache in her head. Pushing up into a sitting position, she reached for the glass of water on her nightstand and drained it in a few gulps before letting her head fall back against the headboard. Ruby could drink.

She needed the bathroom, so she slid out of bed, grabbing a bathrobe and pulling it around her, figuring she could take a quick shower to wash away the scent of The Rabbit Hole. 

By the time she got downstairs, robe wrapped around her naked form, she had woken up a little, and Darcy was waiting for her, mewing loudly and winding around her legs as she filled the coffee maker. She fed him before he caused an injury, and left the coffee brewing, wandering out onto the back porch to breathe in the cool morning air. The robe was wrapped around her, the light breeze pleasant against her naked legs, and she went down the steps, picking her way across the uneven lawn with her bare toes. From her position, she could see that the light was on in Gold’s kitchen. Of course he’d be up. Wonder if he wanders around the house in the nude, too. She chuckled to herself, but then remembered her conversation with Ruby. Even the score, huh? No time like the present.

She hurried to the front of the house before she could lose her nerve, scuttling around to Gold’s back garden and mounting the steps of his porch. She could smell fresh coffee, and hear the sounds of him moving around in the kitchen, and she crept to the door, undoing the belt of her robe and letting it hang loose in front of her. She could see him through the window, in a dark grey robe with the hood up and hiding his face, filling the kettle at the sink. The cool air licked against her naked thighs, caressing her belly, and she took a deep breath. The back door was already ajar, and so she teased it open with a foot, grasping the robe in both hands and marching in as she flung it back off her shoulders, turning to face him with her arms spread wide and her naked body on full display.

“Now, we’re even!” she announced.

The hooded figure turned to face her, but it wasn’t Gold. It was a young man close to her own age, dark eyes wide with shock.

“Uh…” he said. “Hi?”

Lacey’s eyes flew wide open, and she yelped loudly, wrenching the robe around herself. The young man scratched his head, looking perplexed. He had Gold’s eyes. His son? Oh fucking fuck!

“Fuck!” she spat. “Shit! Fuck!”

“Uh…”

Lacey stumbled out of the door, putting on a burst of speed and tearing around the side of the house before diving back into her own kitchen. This is going from bad to fucking worse!

[bltngames]

SAGE 2020: Fan Games

I’d hoped to have this article out a little bit sooner, but I overestimated how long it would take to write about some of these games. Whoops! Like I said when I outlined the posting “schedule” on the first day, we’re playing it fast and loose, so this is just what you get.

Today is the day I talk about fan games! And even though SAGE has “Sonic” right there in the acronym, it’s always hosted fan games from all types, so today we’ve got Mega Man, Mario, Rayman, and even fan games of fan games, if you can believe it.

Sonic Pinball Panic!

Pinball is one of those things where I’ve always been obsessed with it, but never very good at it. And now, with access to digital pinball collections like Pinball Arcade and Pinball FX, I don’t actually find myself playing as much pinball as I thought I would when I was 14 years old. Still, I find myself fascinated by a good pinball table, and this honestly caught me off guard. This could very easily be an official DLC release for one of those aforementioned pinball collections and I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash (in fact, if you ask me, this is better than Pinball FX, which has always had weird ball physics). This looks, sounds, and functions exactly like a real pinball table should. My complaints are minor: for starters, the table feels kind of easy. I’ve never been a pinball wizard, but I was losing balls left and right here and it still took a good 15 minutes before I finally got a game over. Score accumulation is also pretty slow; most pinball tables will dump millions and millions of points on you, but here, it felt like a struggle just to reach the 379k I finished with. Both contribute to the fact that the table feels a little flat, like it’s missing a spark to really put it over the top. And, third, it would be nice if it had controller support. The keyboard works just fine, here (it’s just pinball, after all) but I find that the triggers on a controller feel really good with pinball flippers, and mapping the plunger to the right stick is great, too. This is a Unity game, so I wouldn’t think it’d be that hard to hook it up to the controller mapper. Still, I came away impressed.

Mega Man: Perfect Blue

There are two things out there that always give me pause: fan-made Doom level packs, and Mega Man fan games. Fan made gaming content generally has problems when it comes to difficulty balancing anyway, but these games have earned a certain reputation for their difficulty, which creates a problem when you have content made by fans, for fans. This insularity means these things are usually way too hard for what I would consider “normal” people (read: casual fans and outsiders). Add on to the fact that I’d even say that there are official Mega Man games with bad difficulty balancing, and you have a recipe for frustration. Sadly, this is how I’d characterize Perfect Blue: though this introductory level isn’t impossibly hard, it’s definitely pushing that edge where it’s not very accommodating to someone who hasn’t played and finished every Classic Mega Man game ever made. It almost immediately throws you into scenarios where you have jumps you can barely reach, insta-kill spikes, and enemies that not only actively dodge your shots, but invincible enemies that launch counter attack homing missiles. And then it starts making you juggle all of this stuff, together, at the same time. None of this is insurmountable as long as you’re paying attention, but as a very casual Mega Man fan, it’s an unfriendly first impression and makes me worried about what the rest of the game is going to be like as the challenge naturally ramps up. For those hardcore Mega Man fans among you, the rest of this is solid, at least. The presentation and controls are excellent, and the new sprites are beautiful. It’s a game I’d love to enjoy when it’s done… but I’m assuming I’ll be left out in the cold. A shame, really, because there’s so much promise here.

Sonic and the Mayhem Master

There’s a lot to like about this game, but there’s a part of me that really wonders if this should even be considered a Sonic fan game. Mayhem Master’s depictions of Sonic and Amy Rose are atypical to put it mildly. Here, Sonic seems to be a bookish nerd of sorts, a sidekick to Amy Rose, who has been turned into a burnt out, cigar-smoking detective. Most of the game plays out as half an adventure game, half an RPG, where you roam around the world talking to NPCs and gather clues while being assaulted by random battles. The battle system is super off-the-wall, too, perhaps taking inspirations from games like Mario & Luigi and Undertale. This means that battles aren’t passive -- you spend most of each fight dodging or nullifying incoming attacks with simplistic action-based commands. It’s weird, and different, and occasionally even a little bit overwhelming. That’s kind of the whole game, really. It’s the sort of thing that really doesn’t feel like a Sonic game at all, but it also doesn’t feel bad. The artwork is very charming, I’m interested in seeing the characters develop, and there’s plenty of worldbuilding and mystery. Would this still be as intriguing if you removed the Sonic connection, even if it’s so threadbare? That’s a hard question to answer. I know that some of my interest in this game is seeing how it spins more familiar Sonic elements into something that’s completely different. Worth checking out, for curiosity’s sake if nothing else.

Sonic and the Dreamcatcher

This is a fairly brilliant little game with two unfortunate quirks. If you didn’t know, the special stages in the original Sonic the Hedgehog were inspired by an arcade game of the era called Cameltry, published by Taito in 1989. Now, Sonic’s special stages were different enough from Cameltry that it wasn’t a case of Sega outright stealing the gameplay, but there’s a clear lineage there, and it only becomes clearer when you compare the special stages in Sonic 4 Episode 1 to Cameltry (spoilers: in that game, they’re nearly identical). Dreamcatcher is also from this lineage, but is infinitely more charming than either Sonic 4 and maybe even Cameltry itself. The idea is that you must collect a specific number of blue spheres in order to reveal the Chaos Emerald, after which you have a limited amount of time to find and collect it. It’s very simple, but the presentation really sells the game’s charm. It’s just a game that looks good and sounds good, with an interesting premise executed very well. Also, you get a dedicated “& Knuckles” button to spawn infinite Knuckles to help you collect blue spheres and bash enemies. Being able to have unlimited numbers of these guys sounds like it would break the game, but once that countdown clock begins, the last thing you need is 20+ echidnas clogging up the route back to the emerald. The first quirk this game suffers from is that there’s only two levels. Parts of this have a very “game jam made in a weekend” vibe to it despite the rock-solid music, sound, and gameplay, and only having two levels contributes to that. Hopefully more are coming in the future. The other quirk? You can’t actually download this game -- it’s embedded in a webpage. I’m sure this is to make it easy to play on any platform with a web browser (phones, PCs, etc.) but I find myself greatly desiring a hard copy of this game that can live on my computer forever.

Sonic Galactic

Now here’s just a good old fashioned Sonic fan game. Though it clearly takes inspiration from Sonic Mania’s aesthetics in some places, it’s clearly doing its own thing, featuring not just the core cast of Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles, but also Fang the Sniper, and even a brand new character named Tunnel the Mole. Unlike a lot of Sonic fan games at SAGE, this appears to be using something besides Clickteam Fusion, Game Maker, or Unity. Here, it’s the “Hatch Game Engine,” whatever that is. Whatever the case may be, the game runs very well and is basically indistinguishable from just playing Sonic Mania. Visuals are sharp, music’s good, the two included boss fights are surprisingly fun to fight -- everything seems to be in order. As a result, there’s not really a lot to say. This is just a good, fun game. Anything else I’d say would come off sounding like nitpicks. For example, there’s no way to set graphics options yet, so the game is stuck in 2x Windowed mode. Fang and Tunnel are cute additions, but I wonder how much utility they have as characters. Unless I missed something, Fang’s pop gun is mainly for a weak double-jump ability, and Tunnel’s ability to dig and ricochet off floors, walls and ceilings is cool, but it doesn’t have quite the universal utility of Tails’ flight or Knuckles climbing and gliding. It’ll be interesting to see how or maybe even if their abilities have a chance to grow into something special. Anyway, like I said, those are nitpicks, so try to give this a shot if you can.

Sonic Robo-Blast!

Remasters seem to be a bit of a theme this SAGE, between Sonic Triple Trouble 16-bit, Sonic 2 SMS, Sonic 1 Revisited, but this is perhaps the most surprising of them all: a loving remaster of the original Sonic Robo-Blast. SRB1 was perhaps one of the first true “landmark” fan games, given that it was basically a whole entire game that people could play. It's not a stretch to say that SRB1 probably helped kickstart the fan gaming community that still survives to this day -- I certainly owe my involvement in the community to seeing SRB1 for the first time. The problem is, as historically significant as the game might be, it’s nearly impossible to go back to nowadays -- it’s much, much too dated to be any fun. This remaster completely re-envisions SRB1 as a regular Sonic game, while also pulling in gameplay elements from Sonic Robo-Blast 2. It’s a bit of a time paradox mindwarp, but it helps give it a bit more personality than just making a bog-standard 2D Sonic. It works, aided by the fact the sprites, music and overall presentation are fantastic. The only downside is the Act 2 boss, which commits the cardinal sin of taking away player agency and making you wait around far too much. Here’s hoping this gets finished, because it’s definitely on my radar now.

Super Mario Flashback

This has been floating around for a few years now and I’m glad to see it’s finally starting to get some more substantial content as it moves towards becoming an actual game. That being said, this is also one of those games that’s kind of hard to talk about because it’s just… really polished. The art is incredible, it controls exactly like a Mario game, and there’s already a decent mixture of ideas at play in the demo. Anything else I’d say would sound like nitpicking -- like, for example, the backseat game designer in me wonders if maybe the game is prioritizing aesthetics a little too much. This is a wonderfully animated game, absolutely gorgeous, but some actions, like the butt-stomp and the wall kick, feel a bit sluggish, and I think it’s because they show off fancy animations. Even if it’s a split second, waiting for Mario to attach to a wall to kick off of it feels slow. Really, though, that’s an insignificant complaint. This demo is still well worth checking out.

Sonic Advance 4 Advanced

This game seems like a greatest-hits of Dimps best ideas, spanning the first Sonic Advance all the way to Sonic Rush. There’s just one problem: the game seems broken. Now, my desktop PC is starting to show its age. I built it four and a half years ago, and though it can handle game like Gears of War 5 on high settings at 60fps, slowly, newer games seem to be leaving it behind. That being said, I don’t think a game like Sonic Advance 4 here should be running at what appears to be half its intended speed. It also originally launched in a teeny-tiny window (we’re talking, like, smaller than a postage stamp) and even though the options menu has a toggle for full screen mode, it doesn’t want to work. Something about this game under the hood seems to be struggling very, very, VERY hard. It’s a shame, because if this actually played at the proper speed, it seems like it might actually be an alright game, if a bit complex and busy.

Sonic 2 SMS Remake

Here’s a game I was all buckled in expecting to enjoy. Like it says on the tin, this is a remake of Sonic 2 for the Master System (and Game Gear), but with wide screen visuals and huge expansions to the mechanics, roster of playable characters, and levels. On the outside it seems really impressive, and to a certain degree it is, but something about the controls feel a little off. Sonic’s heavier here than he is on the Master System, perhaps to simulate “real” Sonic physics a little more accurately, but you can also pretty much stop on a dime, and the combination of the two feels awkward. The camera also needs a lot of work, as it’s basic at best and does a poor job of letting you see what’s below (to the dev if you’re reading this: there’s actually video tutorials out there on how 2D scrolling cameras work, it might be worth looking a couple of them up). It also leans into some of the tech limitations of the Master System, like how you aren’t given any rings for boss fights (and even hiding the HUD, a move done to save on resources for the large enemy sprites). I could be picky on a bunch of other little stuff, too, like how the flight mechanics feel, but there are other games to play at SAGE and I’ve got at least two more articles to write. Needless to say, this is a solid (impressive, even) foundation but it’s missing a lot of late-stage polish to clean up the tiny little rough edges.

Rayman Redemption

I tell this story every so often, but it was about three quarters of the way through Rayman 2 on the Sega Dreamcast when it struck me, suddenly: I love this game. I was being chased by a pirate ship through some rickety bridges and even though I was dying over and over and over again, I realized I had been enjoying Rayman 2 enough that I might put it in my top ten Dreamcast games. But that was 2002, and the years haven’t been so kind to ol’ Rayman. From the strangely celebrity-infused Rayman 3, to the tragedy of Rayman 4 (eventually becoming Raving Rabbids) to the endless, careless ports of Rayman 2 to every platform under the sun, one gets the impression Ubisoft maybe didn’t know what to do with Rayman. Especially now, when most of Ubisoft’s games are some form of online live service or cookie cutter open world experience (or increasingly both). But the fans know what they want. Rayman Redemption takes the original 1995 Rayman game and lovingly gives it a fresh coat of paint. The results are akin to what Taxman and Stealth did for Sonic CD in 2011, with wide screen visuals, improved controls, touched up level design, but gameplay that still feels faithful and accurate to the original experience. Except that Sega charged money for that, and here, fans have released this for free. Ubisoft’s loss, I guess. I didn’t play Rayman 1 until well after I’d finished Rayman 2, and I’ll admit, I kind of bounced off of it back then. It felt slow, and awkward, and when the difficulty ramped up, it got very hard, very quickly. Now, admittedly, I’ve only put about 30 minutes into Redemption here, but just the addition of a run button is incredibly welcome, and the retooled level design and powerup mechanics helps the game feel way less obtuse overall. It’s just a cleaner, tighter, more accessible and more polished version of Rayman.

Stay tuned for the next article: Indie games.

[sunevial]

Moving Day

This is once again another case of ‘not exactly a commission, but someone chucking money at me to eventually write about space and magic gays’, except this time, it’s from @hewhowalksbehind. 

Continuation of this.

---

Of all the things Venny missed most about Ylxret at nine thirty in the goddamn morning, it was automated coffee makers. Blearily pouring water down the little spout and pushing entirely too many shiny buttons, she eventually got the machine to start blinking. With a grumble, she slotted a floral patterned mug under the funnel and slumped against the counter. 

Water was boiling, oatmeal was in the new saucepan, spoon was in the sink, bowls were…

She forgot to buy bowls. 

Fuck a duck. 

Groaning, she pressed her hands to her eyes and let out a long sigh. After a shopping trip that must’ve lasted an eternity, she had been running on fumes by the time she had a chance to pass out last night, but apparently even that wasn’t enough to calm her adrenaline addled brain. Her best guess was that she hadn’t fallen asleep until three, and even that was a generous estimate. To add insult to injury, her first night in her new apartment was plagued by restless dreams, fitful tossing and turning, and a blanket that was neither warm or cool enough.

At least the air mattress was comfortable. 

The air mattress was comfortable, and her new plush corgi was cuddly.

A steady drip of liquid gold splashed into the mug, the warm coffee revealing heat activated yellow and white circuitry lines weaving through the painted-on flowers. Not even bothering with milk or sugar, she downed the coffee fast enough to get away with only minor tongue burns and shoveled down instant oatmeal straight from the pot. Throwing both into the sink to wash up later, she scrambled into the shower just long enough to wash off yesterday’s sweat and rub away the smell of what felt like seven layers of deodorant. A fresh change of clothes later, a practical t-shirt and legging combo, and she felt half-way to being a functioning person again.

Which was really convenient considering that things would start arriving in approximately now.

Grabbing both wallet and keys, she quietly slipped out of her room and padded downstairs to the front lobby. Today was Internet access, a ‘do it yourself’ table and chair set, and the cushions for her couch. The couch itself was tomorrow, along with the bedframe and mattress, and the nightstand and dresser wouldn’t be for another week yet. Thankfully, unlike her very much not present bowls, she had remembered to buy a toolkit, so at the very least she would have somewhere else to sit by the end of today.

A quick peek outside confirmed that the Internet people hadn’t arrived yet, so Venny plopped down on one of the lobby couches and quickly scanned for any available wireless hotspots. It would’ve been laughably easy to tap into a password protected connection with a couple waves of her hand, but she knew better than to bum off someone. It was also probably very illegal. 

Eventually, she got ahold of a weak signal from the coffee shop next door, and her com link lit up with a happy beep. Her eyes flashed back and forth as she redirected the electrical signals within the device, ensuring that this much weaker and simpler form of wireless communication would end up being compatible. When she was fairly certain that it wouldn’t be running at a snail’s pace, she pulled and weaved the software code until the screen lit up and the holoprojector displayed a rotating band of images. Smiling triumphantly, she tapped on her email, she still had a hard time believing Toven still used email, and sifted through the various messages she had gotten over the past day or so.

Confirmation from her Internet provider, spam, start day and paperwork for work, coupon for shampoo, more spam…updated delivery day for her larger furniture?

“Due to upgrades in processing time, your order will instead be delivered today around ten AM, we hope to see you then,” she muttered under her breath, suppressing a loud groan and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. On the one hand, she’d have an actual bed by the end of the day if everything went right. On the other hand, this was one more group of people to talk with and one more group of things to do, and she was not convinced that all of the coffee in the world would make either of those things easier. Not much she could reasonably do about that, though, because her damn couch was coming whether she was awake enough to realize it or not. 

Whatever happened next didn’t seem to follow the proper passage of time. Sometimes it moved breathtakingly fast, other times painstakingly slow. All Venny could register through her brain-addled eyes was a never ending blur of paper signing, hauling packages, and telling people she had never met to put things down wherever they could find open space. By the time the last person was out of her apartment, and she could actually gauge the passage of time, it was exactly eleven twenty-four in the morning. She collapsed onto one of the new cushions, a nice olive green that she definitely didn’t remember picking out, and got to thinking.

Assets: She had Internet access that wasn’t siphoned off the coffeeshop.

Consequences: Her apartment was no longer able to accommodate carpet angels. 

Priority one: Bed needed to be set up. She’d like an actual bed.

Priority two: Get the couch out of the center of the living room.

Priority three: Actually build the table so she could eat without standing up.

Problem: She had the energy to do maybe half of the bed set up. 

Slowly getting back onto her feet, she shuffled towards the bedroom, though not before noticing her front door still propped wide open from all of the deliveries. She went to close it, getting about halfway there before the door across the hall opened, revealing Sol’s relatively incredulous face. 

“Morning,” she said, leaning against the doorframe and stifling a yawn. “Lot of noise over there for a weekend morning.”

“That makes two of us,” Venny replied, trying to put on as apologetic an expression as she could muster. “I didn’t wake either of you up, did I?”

She shook her head, lavender curls bouncing a little. “Nah, I’ve been up for a bit, and Clarissa could sleep through a hurricane if you let her.”

“Still gonna apologize,” Venny said, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing a touch. “You know, I didn’t think most furniture places delivered on weekends.”

“Learn something new everyday.” Her eyes glanced towards Venny’s now incredibly messy apartment for a moment. “You settling in okay?”

Venny chuckled, tapping the ground absentmindedly with a foot. Well, she could answer truthfully, she could answer in the socially acceptable way, or she could split it down the middle and hope for the best. “I think so, just need to get used to...all of this.”

“It’s not easy moving somewhere new, even harder when you’re all alone,” Sol said with a sympathetic smile, nodding her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “If you need help getting set up, I’m not really doing anything today.”

Venny blinked a couple of times, shaking her head even as every fiber of her being was saying ‘take up the offer’. As much as she’d love another pair of hands helping out, she’d already taken up enough of Sol’s time between the reading interruption and the grocery care package. Best not to take advantage of her kindness this many times in such a short period of time. Or maybe Sol didn’t care, that she just actually wanted to help and didn’t resent her for it, and this was just a combination of sleep deprivation and anxiety talking. Maybe it was both. It was probably both. “I think I’ve got it handled,” she replied, twirling a twist between her fingers. “Thanks for the offer though.”

All she got in return was an incredulously raised eyebrow.

“Or maybe I’m saying that because I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness again and seem really needy in a time of upheaval and stress,” Venny said with a defeated sigh.

“I wouldn’t be offering it if I didn’t wanna help.” Sol smirked just a touch. “I know my boundaries better than that.”

Venny could physically feel the tension in her muscles drain away as she slumped against her own door frame. “I promise I’m not this pathetic all of the time.”

“You said it yourself, a lot of upheaval and stress, and from what it sounds like, absolutely no sleep either,�� she replied with a shrug, popping back into her own apartment long enough to grab her keys and phone. “Alright, where are we starting?”

 “Bedroom, cause I need a bed.”

The two of them quickly made their way to the chaotic bedroom, surveying the bed frame in its various parts and the mattress propped up against the window. Cracking open the new tool box, Sol set to work screwing everything into place while Venny sorted through a veritable hoard of metal rods and support beams. While she had no reason to doubt that Sol could wield a hammer and screwdriver, watching her work was, in a word, beautiful. Sol took to the various tools with a clear familiarity, handling them with delicacy and certainty as she aligned the wooden frame. Venny knew nothing about art, but she knew an artist’s touch.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Venny said, holding a level against the wood to see if any holes needed a quick re-drill or if something had been screwed in the wrong place.

“I’d hope so, I make things for a living,” Sol replied, wiping a little sweat off her brow.

“What kind of things?”

Sol returned with a playful smile. “You get three guesses.”

She allowed thirty seconds to come up with her answers, no small feat with how slow her brain was chugging along. “Artisanal woodworking.”

“Nope.”

“Artisanal metalworking.”

“Nope.”

“Designing prototypes for this exact style of bed frame,” Venny said with a shit eating grin that was probably more of a result of her being half way to slap happy. 

Sol rolled her eyes, closing one as she carefully twisted the last screw into place. “Okay, I’ll admit, second one was closer.”

“So what is it?”

“You’re not gonna believe me,” Sol said flatly, tapping the frame twice for good measure.

Venny pouted, planting her elbows on the footboard and resting her chin on her fists. “Come on, it can’t be that out there.”

“I promise I’m not joking.”

“You could say you build rocket ships and I’m so tired I’d believe you.”

Sol paused for almost ten full seconds. “Funny you mention that…”

“Get out, you make spaceships?” Venny’s head poked over the frame with eyes wide and excitement clear as day on her lips. “You’re with the Wisteria Space Program?”

“Technically I’m in the rocketry department, not the spaceship program, but same idea,” Sol said with a shrug, jumping to her feet and whistling. Similar to yesterday, the wind kicked up, swirling around the room almost as if it was having fun. The mattress slowly but surely floated off the ground, providing just enough lift for the two of them to set it on the frame without straining muscles or having to worry about wingspans. 

“Still, that’s so cool,” Venny continued, grabbing the sheets off of her air mattress and throwing them onto the bed. “I don’t even think I know anyone back home who does that. What do you even do there?”

Sol laughed, grabbing the sheet and stretching it over a corner. “I’d tell you, but that’s classified.”

“Is that a joke or is that actually classified?”

“‘I might actually get arrested for treason’ classified,” Sol said in a completely serious deadpan.

“Anything you can tell me?” Venny asked, head tilted as her hands quickly smoothed out her blue and white comforter over the bed.

Sol thought for a full minute, arranging pillows and plushies absentmindedly as she paced around the small room. The wind followed her, catching her shirt and blowing it in every direction imaginable, almost as if it was thinking alongside her. “Physics. Lots of physics.”

“Dang.”

A knock sounded at the door, and for the second day in a row, Venny opened it to find Clarissa standing there with a large smile on her face. She had no gifts in hand this time around, but she was scrolling through her phone. “Sol texted me she was here helping out, you done stealing my roommate? I need her for something of vital importance.”

“I offered,” Sol called as she emerged from the bedroom.

“She still stole you!” Clarissa shouted back, though with a laugh and smile on her face. 

Venny returned with a grin of her own. “We should be done pretty soon. Though if it’s really that important, I can take care of the rest.”

“It’s not important, she’s just trying to get me to set up a dating app,” Sol said with a sigh and an accusatory finger. “Because my roommate is a nosy bitch who insists on setting me up with every girl she happens to meet.”

“It’s not every girl.” Clarissa huffed indignantly.

Sol’s face told a much different story with how frustrated those eyebrows looked. “You’ve specifically set me up with three of your exes, a girl from your class, and the florist down the street.”

“All I’m saying is that she’s got a great personality and an even better ass.”

“Then why don’t you ask her out?!” Sol exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

“Because I’m already seeing two people!”

It might have just been Venny’s ears, but she swore she heard laughing from somewhere else in the apartment. 

“Alright, alright, you can have your roommate back,” Venny said, holding back a belly laugh as best as she could. Never in her life had she’d been so grateful to hear two women loudly arguing about female love interests. Her family had been concerned with her moving to Toven, knowing that not every place was as accepting of non-heterosexual identities as Ylxret. New Haven had a better track record than most, though, and conditions were certainly getting better as time went on. If nothing else, seeing her two neighbors argue about sapphic love affairs in the hallway was a good indicator that she had nothing to worry about here. “Hope the app set up goes well.” 

“I’m not setting up the app,” Sol declared with a flat tone, going over to the boxed up table and cutting away tape like a woman scorned. “I’ll get a date on my own damn time.”

“I mean, if you’re looking for someone else to add to the list, I’m into women,” Venny joked, smiling at Clarissa. She watched the pink haired woman’s eyes light up, and hastily threw up her hands. “Not that I’m looking for a relationship, I’ve just moved and I think that might’ve been me not having normal social barriers up due to lack of sleep.”

Sol audibly groaned in the background. “Damn it, you’ve given her ideas.”

“Well that’s even better! You’re new in town and need to see the sights, and I know a great little place Sol could take you for lunch,” Clarissa said, pulling out her phone and rapidly texting. “I’m sending you the directions now.”

Venny blinked a couple of times, finally just realizing the full ramifications of what she had just done. At least she knew now never to open her mouth when she was this sleep deprived, or at least, not do so when possible romantic relationships were involved. Feeling the heat rapidly rising to her face, she shot a glance to Sol, desperately trying to find a way out of this increasingly awkward situation. 

With a sigh, Sol pulled out her phone and rubbed her temples. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Don’t be, it’s my fault,” Venny said, smiling sheepishly. “I’m really not in the place to be thinking about that anyways.”

“Then think of it like a friendly social,” Clarissa said with a large, not at all innocent smile, eyes darting first to Venny. “You need to meet people-” Her eyes flashed towards her roommate. “-and you need to get out more. Win-win situation!”

Sol’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “Clarissa-”

“Venny, what do you think?” she asked, smiling wide and oh so sweet. So this was a game for them both, a sort of give and take war between them, and this is the moment where she was supposed to choose a side. Her next move decided the winner of this match between these two equally stubborn individuals. 

She was already on the edge of the diving board, might as well take the jump.

“What’s the food like?” Venny asked, putting on her best innocent smile. 

Sol sighed in defeat, grumbling and pulling out her phone. “Stir fry and dumplings. Let me know when you’re free.”

Clarissa grinned with a smile that could split the sea. “It’s a date!”

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

Love and Lasagna- Chapter Two

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Soft Gwil, implied smut. 

Word Count: 2,593

Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist!

Chapter Two

You stretched your arms out before rolling over and nestling back under the covers. Your eyes fluttered open suddenly when you realized that you were still at Gwil’s, his tall lanky frame draped lazily around you.

It had been several weeks since he had professed his love for you and vice versa. In an attempt to avoid the suspicion of your friends, you hadn’t spent the night at Gwil’s yet. Now that was all shot to hell. You let out an exasperated groan.

Mostly, you had been hoping to avoid incurring Georgie’s own personal rendition of the Spanish Inquisition. You still hadn’t forgotten the FBI-level interrogation skills Georgie had employed the year before when you’d had an awkward one-night stand with Ben Fletcher. He was a biology major who wouldn’t stop talking about the mating practices of earthworms, but you’d been drunk and horny enough to let him take you home. Georgie never judged you, especially considering that she brought many a suitor of her own back to your shared dorm room. No, Georgie was just nosy and you couldn’t tell a decent lie to save your life.  

Gwil began to stir and pulled you back flush against his chest. Nose nuzzling the back of your neck, he whispered, “Good morning, darling.” He groaned sleepily and ground his hips into your ass.

“Good morning to you, too,” you laughed, wiggling your bum in response.

“Easy there, love,” he whispered. “I’m not that kind of girl. You’ll have to buy me dinner first.”

Turning to face him, you kissed the tip of his freckled nose. “How about breakfast instead?”

Gwilym whimpered when you moved to get up and let his arm fall into the empty space you had previously occupied, grumbling as he drifted back off to sleep.

You padded into the kitchen of Gwil’s small cottage and started the coffee-maker. While the machine roared to life, you expertly navigated through his cabinets and fridge as you gathered the necessary ingredients to make banana pancakes.

The smell of coffee, soon followed by the smell of pancakes, was enough to re-awaken Gwilym, prompting him to roll out of bed and into the kitchen to investigate. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you. Your hair was messily piled atop her head, with little hairs poking out here and there. You was wearing the button-up he’d had on the day before and he immediately decided that it looked far better on you- sleeves rolled up and the hem barely covering your behind- than it ever had on him. His heart swelled. Never in a million years had he ever thought that you would ever see him as something other than your professor, yet here you were wearing his clothes and cooking him breakfast.

You piled the finished pancakes on a plate and switched the stove off. You turned around to put the dishes you’d dirtied in the sink and smiled when you saw Gwilym standing there watching you. “See something you like?” You quipped, winking at him as you set the griddle and the mixing bowl in the sink [AN: he has one of those fancy kitchen island sinks].

“Oh, absolutely.” The sleepiness he had felt melted away and he all but ran around the island to pepper kisses along your neck and cheeks. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” he said, pulling away from you and gesturing towards the foot-tall stack of pancakes cooling off on the counter.

“It’s just pancakes and coffee, Gwil. No big deal.” But you smiled anyway. You poured herself a big cup of coffee and settled into the living room couch.  

He looked at you, slightly confused. “Are you not going to have any, love?”

Shaking your head, you raised your mug. “Got all I need.”

“Interesting. Never took you for an old man, but I suppose it all makes sense now.” He laughed at your mock-insulted expression, and you rolled her eyes at him before picking up the book you’d been reading the night before.

As he tore into the stack of pancakes before him, Gwil watched you. Your hair cascaded in front of your cheeks as you took in page after page of information, your eyes flicking back and forth across the pages. He wanted to cross the room and tuck those loose strands behind your ear, but then he’d be caught staring. As usual when you were deep in thought, you were gently tugging at your earlobe, tongue darting out of your lips every so often to keep them from getting chapped. He was entranced.

Without so much as a single glance away from your book, you felt his eyes on you and couldn’t help but smile. Continuing to focus on your book, you smirked as you said, “You know, your pancakes are going to get cold, love.” Damn. Caught anyway.

A bit of pink appeared on his cheeks and he dug back into his breakfast. After he had finished and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, he joined you on the couch. Never setting down your book, you lifted it a little for Gwilym to put his head in your lap. He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and used it to cover both of you as he laid his head back down. You used your free hand to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as you continued your reading. Gwil hummed in contentment and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I wish we could do this every morning.” Gwilym’s words made your heart sink a little.

“Me too,” you whispered. You slipped a piece of paper between the pages of your book and set it down on the table next to the couch. You pressed a kiss to his temple and continued to entwine your fingers in his hair as you gazed down into his eyes. Attempting to shift the mood, you glanced at the clock. “Shit, we have class today.”

“I’ll cancel,” he mumbled, turning to bury his face in your stomach.

“Gwilym, you know you can’t do that.” He groaned, but quickly moved his hands to tickle your ribs. A loud cackle escaped your lips, egging him on and he climbed on top of you without ceasing his relentless attack. You cried out, “Gwil, stop! We have to get dressed, I’m going to be late!”

You jumped up and left Gwilym breathless and alone on the couch. You smirked down at him, giggling at his pink face, flushed with exertion. “I am going to take shower. Unlike you, there are consequences to my being late.” You blew him a kiss before dashing out of the living room.

After a quick shower, you put your clothes from the night before back on. After a kiss goodbye, you left Gwilym alone to proceed with his morning routine and made your way back to the dorms. Your silent prayers were answered when you opened the door to find the Georgie was already in class. Digging through your drawers, it suddenly hit you that you hadn’t done laundry in quite some time. You kept digging until you finally pulled out an old Queen t-shirt, sniffing it to make sure it was clean (it was) before pulling it over your head. You tugged on your favorite pair of jeans and slid into your usual tan suede clogs. After throwing your hair into a pile on top of your head, you slipped your arms through your backpack and began making your way across campus to Dr. Hart’s lecture.

---

Later that day, you were sitting at your usual spot in the basement- at your desk, surrounded by books. You usually used your office as a refuge from the hustle and bustle that characterized the rest of campus, and it was often the only place you could find some peace and quiet. Today however, the office was filled with the exact opposite. The three other TAs (Laurel Finch, Cooper Edwards, and Rob Watson) you shared your office with were all annoyingly present. You let out a distressed sigh. The closer you got to the end of the semester, the more you stressed over finishing your thesis.

“Y/N, you have to relax a bit. You’re way further ahead on your paper than I am, and God knows Barnett, Hart, and Lee all adore you. They’re sure to pass you.” Laurel tried to reassure you.

Your face flushed at the mention of Gwilym.

“Thanks, Laur. I just want to make sure it’s absolutely perfect.”

Cooper perched himself on top of your desk, knocking over some of your books. “You’ve already been accepted into the Ph.D. program at Edinburgh. What’s the point in trying so hard? Even if your paper’s shit, you’re pretty enough that old Dr. Barnett will pass you just to see if he can get in your-“

“Coop, do you ever stop talking out of your ass?” Rob snapped, and you shot him a grateful smile. “Why don’t you go, or I can explain to Dr. Hart how you were at Wildwood last week instead of in his class.” Wildwood was a local bar that proved to be a favorite of the university students. You and Laurel stifled laughs as Cooper’s eyes went wide, grabbing his backpack before rushing out of the office.

Laurel winked at you. She’d been convinced that Rob had a crush on you since the three of you guys went to a conference together in Boston last semester. Rob was tall, with a medium-build. He had long blond hair that brushed the tops of his shoulders and complimented his icy blue eyes. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. But you just chalked his friendliness to him being a decent human being.

Standing up, you walked the short distance over to Rob and wrapped him up in a friendly hug. “Thanks, Rob.”

Suddenly the three of you heard a knock and turned to see Gwilym standing in the doorway. He had been unlocking the door to his own office, hoping to put some books away before heading home for the day, when he’d seen Mr. Edwards storm out and was curious to see what had provoked his quick exit. He was surprised to find you (his Y/N) in an embrace with who he recognized as another TA, but one whose name he could never remember. He wasn’t typically the jealous type but seeing you with another man (a boy really) set him on edge.

Gwilym shifted uncomfortably as you carefully disentangled from Rob. “Everything alright in here?” He asked, and you were the only one who picked up on the annoyance in his tone. Your brow furrowed, wondering what could be upsetting him, but you quickly remembered that you weren’t alone. You subtly took another step away from Rob.

“Yes Dr. Lee. There was an, uh, misunderstanding between Cooper and I but Rob here was able to diffuse the situation,” You replied, meeting Gwilym’s stare with a warm smile.

He ignored it. “Right, well, just keep it down.” Gwilym turned on his heel and left, retreating to his office.

“Fuck, that was weird,” Laurel exclaimed, Rob nodding in agreement.

Still confused as to why Gwilym had acted so strangely, you replied, “Yeah, it was.”

---

After waiting for the moment to pass and for Rob and Laurel to settle back into their desks, you quietly gathered your things and said a quick goodbye as you slipped out before they could ask any questions. Knowing that Gwilym would have already left for the day, you walked across campus to your car and made your way over to his house.

Gwilym choked on his tea when you came bursting through front door, forgetting that he had left it unlocked.

You found him sitting in his armchair, dabbing the steaming hot liquid that had spilt on his shirt. He let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “Y/N, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, doll.” You grabbed another napkin off of the kitchen island and walked over to him to help him with his shirt. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His face takes on a somber expression as he lightly takes hold your wrist and pulls the napkin from your hand and lets it fall to the floor before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips and he gently pulls you down into his lap. You curl up and nestle your head into Gwilym’s neck, his arms circling around to cradle you.

“What happened back there, Gwil?” You nudged his chin with your nose. “Have I done something wrong?”

All of the jealousy and anger he had previously felt suddenly dissipated, and he pulled you in even tighter. Gwilym brushed the hair out of your face and kissed your temple. “Of course not, love.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know what came over me, I just got so jealous seeing you with that boy. Seeing him touching you. It just hurts to know that he can touch you in public and I can’t.” He wasn’t jealous of Rob so much as he was jealous of the fact that Rob’s touches weren’t the subject of the same scrutiny Gwilym’s would be if anyone were to find out.

You sobered at his comment, face twisting into a pained expression. You had both known from the start that this relationship would not be simple, but Gwilym had not fully prepared himself for the restraint that he would have to exercise. He wished so much that he could just wrap you up in his arms in the middle of the office, place a kiss on the top of your head in front of everyone without cries of indecency. Christ, even just to walk across campus with your hand in his would be more than enough.  

You notice a small tear carving a path down his cheek and reach up to catch it with your thumb, brushing it away, but you don’t lower your hand. Gwilym leans into your touch and twists his head to place a kiss on your palm, his lips soft and warm against your cool skin. You wished as much as he did that you didn’t have to hide away your relationship. You felt as tears pricked your eyes, spilling over just as easily as Gwilym’s had. He took your face in his hands and kissed each tear that marked your cheeks.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your face as he said, “I hate having to hide you- us- away like it’s something to be ashamed of. I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I know, baby. It’s not much longer, though. Graduation is only a month and a half away.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding as he took in your words. “It just seems so far away right now.”

You removed yourself from his embrace, moving to stand in front of him. Reaching your hand out to him, he took hold and let you pull him up out of the chair. Looking up at the man before you, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come on, love, let’s make dinner.”

He smiled, warmth flooding his body at your comforting presence. “What do you want my love?”

You giggled and pinched his side as he walked in front of you. “Anything but lasagna.”

Taglist: @disasterdeacy @travelbugg64 @simply-sams-things

[redrebecca]

Potterhead

You love your role, but Shawn somehow loves it more. After a long day you bring Shawn a little gift from work to say thank you.

Shawn x actress!reader

Warning(s): none, just fluff

A/N: This is my first ever Shawn Mendes fic. I got the idea the other day when i re-read one of the harry potter books so yeah? Anyway, feedback is always appreciated and i hope you enjoy! Also, i suck at descriptions

Words: 1.3k

*

It was fair to say that when your agent told you that J.K Rowling had offered you the role in a Harry Potter prequel you were ecstatic, you’d never said yes to something so quick in your life despite not even knowing the character you had been requested to play. You had initially thought your reaction was over the top, but when you got off the phone and turned to the questioning eyes of Shawn, it was fair to say his reaction made yours look almost ungrateful.

After he had stopped running around the apartment squealing - yes, squealing - he wouldn’t stop smothering you in kisses until you finally were able to tickle his sides – something which you’d realized during your first few weeks of dating, was his ‘quick-release’ button - and surely enough he pulled back slightly, not by much, but enough that you were able to finally breathe. He looked at you with the widest, toothiest smile you had ever seen him have, his eyes searching yours.

“Babe, oh my god are you serious? Honey I’m so proud of you, I can’t believe my girlfriend is gonna be a witch, oh my god that sounds so cool!” You opened your mouth to tell him that you might not even be cast as a witch but before you could you were cut off.

“Does that mean you’ll have a wand? Oh my god babe you’ll have a wand! You’ve got to bring me to set, please please please?” You cut off his rambling by giving him a kiss, which he quickly reciprocated before pulling back and making your eyes meet his expectant ones.

“Of course you can come to set and plus I’m going to need a date to the premier as well if you want to come?” You questioned, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Babe is that even a question - I would love to come.” He gave your lips a quick peck before flinging you over his shoulder, so fast that you couldn’t stop the squeal left your mouth

“Shawn what are you doing?” You giggled as you noticed which direction he was walking to

His only reply was a slap on your ass and “I’m gonna show you just how proud I am of you.” before you were gently placed on your shared bed, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

 *

 You let out a sigh as you closed the door to your apartment. To say it had been a long day would be an understatement. The director certainly knew how to get the best out of you and your co-stars, but unfortunately those good results came with a price, which was that filming was draining all your energy. You had just put your bags down onto the kitchen counter when your very own human teddy bear attached himself to you, his arms wrapped around you and his face pressed into your neck, causing his fluffy curls to tickle your cheek. You hugged him back as he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He slowly lowered his hand to the underside of your thighs, understanding right away what he was hinting at, you moved your arms that were around his torso so that they were around his neck. When he was sure you were holding on, he lifted you to sit on the counter, him nudging your legs apart so they were wide enough for him to stand in between.

“Long day?” He questioned, his tone full of sympathy, knowing how exhausting he found time in the studio. You didn’t say anything, only nodding slightly into his neck, inhaling his calming scent and pulling him impossibly closer to you. He happily hugged you back, a content sigh leaving his lips as your fingernails began to rake through his hair. You don’t know how long the two of you had been like that for, but you were pulled back to reality when you heard Shawn mutter into your ear 

“What’s that?” You pulled back to see him staring inquisitively at something to your left, following his gaze, you saw that he was looking at a paper bag that was slumped against your usual duffel bag and handbag on the kitchen counter.

“Close your eyes” You said suddenly, obviously startling Shawn as he jumped slightly before observing you with a confused expression. “I promise you’ll like it, just please, close your eyes… for me?” You asked, giving him your best puppy dog look - something he was never able to say no to. He sighed closing his eyes and putting his tattooed hand over them for good measure. You reached to the side pulling the paper bag towards you, smiling happily to yourself when you saw the box that was inside. Carefully taking it out of the bag you turned back to Shawn, giggling when you saw that he had rotated the top half of his body so he was facing to other way to prove that he wasn’t looking. Reaching out with your free hand you grabbed his shoulder pulling it towards you to make him face you again, laughing louder this time when his hand still remained clamped over his eyes despite your best efforts to prise it away from his face. You didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth tugged up as he heard your laugh. “Shawn you can open your eyes now” You said, giggling when he dramatically pulled his hand away.

“Here” You said, moving the box you were holding closer to him. You could see him look at the box, curiosity all over his features, when his eyes met yours with a hint of uncertainty, you nodded and gave him a reassuring smile placing the box into his hands. He took one last look at you before turning his attention towards his present.

Slowly opening it, he gasped when he saw what was resting inside, Shawn was unable to take his eyes off it - completely ignoring the folded piece of paper that had been lying on top of his gift, so you reached into the box and pulled out the slip of paper.

“Read it” You whispered as he gently took it from your fingers. He gasped even louder as he read the small, neat, cursive handwriting that decorated the paper.

 Shawn Mendes, Gryffindor

Hazel, Dragon Heartstring, 10⅓”, slightly springy

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC, Diagon Alley

 Shawn wrapped you up in his arms, clinging onto you and his very own wand like his life depended on it “Thank you so much babe, I love it so much, I-I-” You pull back, cupping his cheeks in your hands wiping away stray tear on his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

“You don’t have to thank me, you’ve been the most supportive and loving boyfriend and I’m so sorry that you can’t always come to set because I know how much you love it. And when I told Joanne about how much you loved Harry Potter and how much you mean to me, she had the team design you your own wand, just like a real wizard.” Shawn looked at you in complete awe, you tapped his nose unable to resist it and giggled when he laughed,

“And,” You said, a bit quieter than before, drawing Shawn’s attention back to what you were saying “She also told me that your wand was one of a pair, one of the only two in the whole wizarding world” You told him as you slipped your own wand from your bag, holding it up to his face to show him. A heart melting smile covered his face as he realized what you were telling him.

“I,” kiss “Love,” kiss “You,” kiss “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten honey.” He threw his head back to emphasize his point, making you laugh at how much of a dork your boyfriend was, “And you’re the best girlfriend ever, you hear me?” He said taking your face in his hands.

“Only for you Mendes.”

“Only for me.”

[izzy-b-hands]

The Taste of Blood

So here’s that vampire AU for Sledgefu I talked abt a while back. It falls into the two other AUs I’ve created thus far, Horror Movie and NOLA. This specific vampire one is going under the Demolition Lovers AU tag (because yes, this was inspired by the first MCR album in part.) Title is taken from one of my fave tracks on the Only Lovers Left Alive soundtrack (another inspiration for this AU.)

This is another one that might have some sequels, I’m still playing with the idea based on some other sources of inspiration! In any case I don’t think I can leave it with just this one piece.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“I think we should call my dad,” Eugene touched the mirror he was looking into, waiting for his reflection to appear, but it didn’t. “We’re both obviously sick. I mean...I can’t even see my reflection, and I know it’s there. It has to be.” 

Snafu moved behind him and peered into the mirror. “Where? I don’t see mine either.” 

“We’re both losin’ it,” Eugene muttered miserably. He didn’t want to call his dad, hadn’t even tried since he’d left to find Snafu in New Orleans. But he also didn’t want to go to any of the local doctors, and as it was they’d both started to develop an intense sensitivity to sunlight. Even if they’d wanted to see a doctor in town, they’d have to somehow convince one to make a house call at night. 

He moved back to the couch, where they’d both been sleeping for the past week since the trouble had all started, and picked up his glass of water. Neither of them could keep anything down, but they kept trying water in the hopes of at least being slightly hydrated. 

He sipped, and immediately gagged and brought it back up, nearly choking as his stomach contracted violently at the water inside of it. 

“Baby,” Snafu whimpered softly, pulling him gently back onto the couch. “No more water. Just gonna make yourself more sick.” 

“That isn’t possible,” Eugene protested. “We’re sick, so we need fluids. Give me your wrist, we can at least do a pulse check.” 

“Alright Florence,” Snafu sighed and held out his wrist. They’d been doing these checks all week, with their pulses getting fainter and fainter with each passing day. Eugene was worried, but he didn’t know what he could possibly do to try and fix it. Nothing was working, and they both looked worse with every hour. 

“What the fuck,” Eugene spat, and moved up Snafu’s arm, then to his neck, searching for a pulse anywhere. Nothing. 

“Check me,” Eugene said, his hands shaking at the thought of what Snafu was (or rather wasn’t) going to find. 

Snafu did the same, moving from pressure point to pressure point, anywhere, searching for a pulse. “Uh. Eugene.” 

“I know, I know, I know,” he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and suddenly noticed how stiff the air felt in his lungs. The air went in and out, and he was still breathing, but it felt...off. “This isn’t possible. We’re dreaming. Or dead. Or something.” 

“I think we are dead,” Snafu said quietly. “I think I know what’s wrong.” 

“I gotta call my dad, now. Before we pass out and-” 

“Eugene,” Snafu interrupted, and grabbed a hold of his hands, just tight enough to keep him sitting on the couch. “You aren’t gonna wanna believe me. And that’s fine, cause I don’t wanna believe me either. But...you remember how we brought Hugo home late last week?” 

Eugene did. It had been a bit spur of the moment, but they’d been talking to Hugo for the past few months, meeting up with him most nights to hang out. It had always edged up near wanting to bring him back to their bed, but it had taken them until Friday of that last week to finally feel brave enough to ask him to come back home with them. 

“What do you remember from that night?” 

Eugene blushed. There was a lot he remembered, a lot of fun and good things. But he couldn’t remember much after. 

“I know I found a weird rash on my neck. Figured Hugo and you were just overly enthusiastic about the hickeys.” 

Snafu shook his head. “Still got the rash?” 

Eugene moved his collar to show it off. Two small red dots, evenly spaced. 

Snafu undid the first few buttons of his shirt and showed off the same. 

“Okay, so Hugo was a little rough. What’re you gettin’ at, sweetheart?” Eugene laughed. 

“We’ve never seen Hugo during the day. He bar tends some nights, but otherwise he doesn’t work. He dresses like he’s at least five years behind everyone else, and his teeth are...well, you’ve seen them,” Snafu continued. “I...this is everything my family made fun of growing up. All the ‘spooky’ parts of the city that the tourists fall for. But...” 

“But what?” 

“Some folks always used to warn about vampires. The city’s old, and you can melt right into it. Where else would you go if you couldn’t die and wanted somewhere you could just be and party or hide away or do whatever else you wanted?” Snafu asked. 

“Are you saying you think Hugo’s a vampire?” 

Snafu looked at the floor, and Eugene sighed internally over how pale he looked. How pale they both looked. Whatever this was, it was eating them alive. 

“And you think he turned us, but it’s just now...taking full effect or something?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” Snafu protested. “You think I like thinking that this is what it is, what we’ve got? This wasn’t my first option for a diagnosis.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry I just...you know how it sounds. I know you do.” 

Snafu nodded, sighed, and dropped his head into his hands. “There’s ways to find out. I mean...it’ll feel silly, but if we do some of these tests, and then it turns out it isn’t this, then we can move past it.” 

“Fair enough,” Eugene agreed. “What tests do you know of?” 

“Well, we failed the first one. No reflection. Failed the second one. Can’t keep any food or water down. Failed the third one. Don’t have a pulse anymore. I’ve got one more, but you aren’t gonna like it,” Snafu replied. He went to the fridge and pulled out the meat they’d picked up from the butcher on Monday. 

It slowly dawned on Eugene what the test was, and his stomach turned. “Oh no.” 

“Oh yes,” Snafu said, slicing into the meat with a knife from one of the kitchen drawers and draining the little bit of blood that came out into two glasses. “C’mere.” 

“I don’t think I can...” Eugene said. It looked repulsive, thickly settled at the bottom of the glass. 

“It’s old blood, but nothin’ we can do about that,” Snafu said, and handed over one of the glasses. “Bottoms up, darlin’.” 

He tossed it back like a shot after Snafu tossed back his, grimacing at the sensation of the blood as it slid down his throat. 

“Now what?” 

“We haven’t been able to keep anything down, so this should come up too,” Snafu replied. 

They stood at the kitchen counter and waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Jesus,” Eugene whimpered, and dropped to his knees, hiding his head against them as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Snaf-” 

“I know,” Snafu interrupted softly, and pulled him up to standing again. “Come on. Back to the couch we go. We’re gonna be alright.” 

“No, we aren’t,” Eugene heard himself whisper, horrified. “What the fuck, what the fuck what the-” 

“Shhh,” Snafu interrupted. “Can’t do nothin’ about this if we panic.” 

“We’re dead,” Eugene hissed. There was no other way around it. He was walking, talking, feeling the panic but with none of the usual heart-pounding. Because his heart no longer beat. Because they’d fucked a vampire, and now they were dead. 

“I know,” Snafu was alarmingly calm, and it made Eugene itchy to watch. As much as he valued Snafu being able to be cool and collected, he also couldn’t bear to be the only one freaking out. 

“We have to find Hugo,” Snafu continued. “May as well go straight to the source. I know going out sounds like shit right now, but we can do this.” 

They dressed, just barely presentable to be out of the house, and wandered down to the nearest bar. The sun had just recently gone down, but Eugene missed it. If this was all real, and he really had already had his last moment in the sun, then he wished he could have somehow known. He would have enjoyed it more. 

Hugo was behind the counter, working. But he looked like he wanted to jump the counter as he caught sight of them. 

Eugene let Snafu take charge of the situation. He was too weak, too tired to do much more than stand by Snafu and lean against him. 

“Hugo. We gotta talk,” Snafu called across the bar. 

Hugo winced as they stepped up to the bar counter. “You guys look like shit.” 

“Yeah. Feel like you might know somethin’ about that,” Snafu said. “Wanna take a moment in the back room with us so we can sort this out?” 

Hugo sighed. “Fine.” 

He led them to the back room, and Eugene let himself collapse onto the couch in the room with a groan. He’d felt better after the glass of disgusting, sludgy blood, but whatever effect it had given him had worn off. 

“I thought I had drained you both completely. You should be dead,” Hugo said, staring at them in amazement and confusion. 

“We are dead, asshole,” Eugene barked. 

“I mean...not dead like me. Completely dead. Not getting up and looking for blood to drink dead. Speaking of, have you guys been feeding? Because you look awful,” Hugo said. 

“Wow, thank you for again tellin’ us we look horrible after doin’ this to us,” Snafu spat as he dropped into a wooden chair near the couch. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Hugo protested. “I was going to just kill you both. I hadn’t fed in weeks...it was nothing personal, I swear.” 

“Hugo...this is is why you’re still single. I swear to fuckin’ god...” Snafu muttered. “Nothin’ personal. Jesus.” 

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Hugo continued. “Look, I can help you adjust to this. It’s the least I can do, and it’s what my maker did for me. Granted, he was also well off and not bar-tending to pay rent, but-” 

“Boo-fucking-hoo for you,” Eugene scoffed. “I’d say this is the least you can do.” 

Hugo sighed. “Clearly, whatever we had is gone. So I’ll do this. I’ll give you a list of places folks like us-” 

“Vampires,” Snafu interrupted. “I wanna hear you fucking say it.” 

“Vampires,” Hugo said. “Places where vampires like us can meet up for resources, help when you’re new and learning how to feed and how much to feed, things like that. I’ll give you my phone number, but you call me; I won’t call you. You only call if you’re comfortable with doing so or really need immediate help, okay?” 

Hugo grabbed a piece of stationary from a desk near one wall of the back room, and started to jot down the various places and people they could use as resources, and as he listened to the pen scratch Eugene’s heart sank. 

No more sunny walks in the park, or sunsets watched in between making out with Snafu. No more dinners they cooked together, learning new recipes. They’d have to quit their jobs, and find new ones with only night shifts, or they’d lose the house. No traveling, unless they were willing to drive all night while knowing they for sure had somewhere to hide during the day. 

And more killing. If they wanted to survive, there would have to be more killing. 

“For now...give me five,” Hugo said and handed Snafu the paper before ducking out of the room. He returned with one of the other bartenders, who calmly bared his neck to Snafu as he knelt down near him. 

“What the fuck is this?” Snafu scoffed. 

“Dinner,” Hugo spat. “Unless you wanna keep looking and feeling like death.” 

“We are dead!” Eugene screamed, forcing himself up off the couch even though every limb protested the effort. He strode towards Hugo faster than he intended to, unsure if it was his new state of being or his anger carrying him forward. He pushed him up against the nearest wall, and hissed. “We’re dead and it’s your fucking fault and-” 

He was suddenly incredibly aware of blood in Hugo’s veins, and before he could stop himself he latched onto Hugo’s neck, effectively stealing his dinner from within him. 

“Get him fucking off of me!” Hugo was screeching, caterwauling, but Eugene held tight onto him, hating how much he enjoyed the feeling of his now much sharper eyeteeth sinking into Hugo’s flesh, emptying his dead veins of his last meal. 

“Eugene! Enough!” Snafu pulled him away, and Hugo dropped to the floor, whimpering. 

“He deserved it,” he huffed. 

“I know,” Snafu said. “But what good is killin’ him gonna do us, huh? None. Let him live with the knowledge. I guarantee that’s worse than bein’ all the way dead.” 

“Neither of you are even up to my usual standard,” Hugo scoffed, still on the floor. The other bartender was staring at him, but made no move to retrieve him. “That’s what I get for fucking ugly goddamn-” 

It was his turn to hold Snafu back as he tried to race towards Hugo, shouting abuse right back at him, how he was a shitty fuck, how he was lucky they’d even allowed him near them to begin with. 

He dragged Snafu outside, regretting that he’d lost his cool. 

But he did feel better, with the blood he’d taken from Hugo. 

“Here,” he offered Snafu his wrist. “You’ll feel better. If we both feel a little healthier, then findin’ all of these people and places’ll be easier.” 

Snafu pulled him into a dark corner near an alley, and kissed him hard before moving his wrist up to his mouth. The feeling of Snafu’s teeth slipping into his wrist was something else, painful but not so much to make him do more than wince. It was almost erotic, especially when Snafu looked up at him, still drinking, his lips locked against the skin of his wrist. 

Which at least confirmed one thing he’d been mildly worried about, regarding blood flow. He didn’t know how it could still work, but he wasn’t going to question it when he had Snafu with blood on his lips, pulling him close and rutting against his hard cock. 

“Let’s go home,” Snafu murmured into his neck. “We can check out everything Hugo gave us tomorrow night.” 

Eugene nodded, but used a hand to carefully pull Snafu’s face back up towards his, and gently, with just the tip of his tongue, licked the drying blood from the corners of Snafu’s mouth before kissing him. 

He had figured it wouldn’t be a jubilant walk home, but he had expected to at least feel better, having gotten confirmation of it all. But he didn’t. He was tired and hungry despite having fed off of Hugo, and wanted nothing more than to fuck until the morning or until they were both too tired and sore to move, whatever came first. 

By the time they got inside, however, he was only half-hard and he could tell Snafu was just plain exhausted. They dropped onto the couch after making sure the door was locked and the windows were all still tightly covered with blinds and newspapers they’d taped over them, and Eugene knew they’d both be asleep soon. There would be no calling into work; he couldn’t keep his eyelids open let alone get up to go to the phone and call them both in. 

What he could manage was to wrap his arms around Snafu, and try not to cry when he didn’t have the familiar sound of Snafu’s heartbeat to lull him to sleep. But he still had Snafu’s hand squeezing his, and it was just enough to work in place of the heartbeat. 

[jcherrybct]

10&11/3/20

In our 3rd ICT session, we took a look into the history of creative technologists. Although the machinery etc. has changed drastically, the principles are still the same and we can learn from looking into the past despite being part of a fluid movement moulded by potential futures.

 We also looked at how our families and experience have shaped our creative abilities so far in our lives, from being labelled, ‘creative’ to having a vast array of experiences to call upon, enabling learning of knowledge from different cultures even if it is subconscious learning.

I found the next part of our session interesting: 

This timeline shows us of the amount of change and fluidity our plans and ideas take from the first thought through to the finished article. It’s reassuring to think that we can be massively changing ideas and that sometimes to move forward you have to accept you were wrong and take steps backwards. This was then emphasised by the analogy that concepts are birthed not thought up. Despite the initial conception to growing for a considerable period of time. Upon birth the idea becomes property of more than just you, it is aided and grown by many others. Finally the idea still needs to be raised to become something ‘desirable’. This analogy really tells of the length and effort goes into growing an idea. It is also important to note that at any point without help, much like the baby in this scenario, if help is not given on any part of the process, the idea will cease to move forward, either stay in its current state and waste potential or even cease to become something physical.

Branching out with concepts, we began to look at early videos of heads of large corporations (Apple & Segway) watching the videos it is apparent that the thought process is the same, exciting & ambitious even though there are definite differences in success. It costs nothing to be ambitious, and you never know what might come from it! For out course it is also extremely important for us to create our own concepts and story. ‘Borrowing’ from the internet or past ideas will not aid our creative journey and more so not be worth getting a degree for ... 

There is much more to add to what we have done, I have a few videos to watch and passages to read. However I also got a few assignments to complete and for that reason am attempting to keep this blog short. I will be posting the final results of my Vlog (which we spent a large amount of the session talking about) once complete. I am currently trying to fine tune my storyboard/script and will complete the assignment over the weekend hopefully!

In our studio session, we begun by presenting the audio we made from natural materials. I haven’t yet documented any progress made through this project, and will attempt to quickly fill in the gaps. We have made the decision to create a storm sound, giving the impression that you were inside a house. At first creating a calm sensation and emotion, however when you add more sounds you will then have a heavier storm and creating a more dangerous scared set of emotions. We used natural conductors to represent the sounds we collected, water was used to represent rain & mint to represent the cool feeling wind creates. All the sounds we used were collected by group members, from standing outside in the rain during the week recording the noise, visiting the wharf during a windy day to a homemade rain maker. We believe that the presentation was well received, however we potentially focused overly on capturing and editing the sounds and our interface and overall user experience suffered because of it. Next time I will try to manage my time better enabling an attempt to enhance all aspects of our project.

Today we once again built on iconography and emoticons. This time with gestures. From how we use gestures in our day to day to how we can potentially use them as a form of way finding or involve them in our makey makey projects. We looked next at a Theremin, a musical instrument that uses an electromagnetic field and gestures of a human (creating resistance) to create both a different volume and pitch of sounds. This was very interesting because there is a possibility to use several variable instruments such as light/motion sensors, to create an instrument. This could be a very interesting project however for now I don’t believe I have the programming capabilities.

After attempting to create a large chain of people to activate the makey makey, we were told our brief for next week. We are to create a performance. I believe that we are to try and include multiple people on a larger scale than what we have been for the last few weeks. And for this I thought it would be fun if we could remove buttons all together and try and create some form of game show. We have a lot of thinking to do on how to make this work, and I will attempt to keep this blog updated as much as possible.

After lunch we had our induction into many of the different labs which was really cool, with such incredible equipment and help available to us a whole new avenue of possibilities opens up. My only worry is the cost of materials, I am already finding the living cost on top of international fees to be particularly strenuous as I am only currently able to work for money one day in the week. I hope this doesn’t hold back my potential learning!

I apologise for the lack of images in this post however I do not have them to hand and will potentially post tomorrow!

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

Edinburgh to Boston - Chapter 3 The Flight - Part 1

Hello all,

As promised here is Chapter 3.  Just so that you know part of my real life leaked into this chapter.  I have been studying for my Advanced Cardiac Life Support recertification this week.  I have been practicing with the simulations and going through the algorithms all week including shocking the characters.  So Claire is acting out for me in the story. I have ACLS on the brain.

I hope you enjoy the Chapter.

I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 3 - The Flight - Part 1

James found Claire standing by their seats struggling to put her carry on into the overhead compartment.

"Here, Beauchamp, let me help ye with that." James took the suitcase and easily slid both their cases into the compartment.

"Thank you, Fraser. That was most kind of you. I don't know how I would have managed." Claire looked up at James coquettishly through her eyelashes and flashed a charming smile.

"Ah...yer welcome. Anytime at all." Christ, is she flirting with me?

May as well be a gentleman. "Beauchamp, umm, which seat would ye like, the window or the aisle? It doesna matter to me which seat I have."

"Oh no, James you must take the aisle seat. You would have more leg room it wouldn't do to be uncomfortable during such a long flight." Claire placed her hand over his squeezing gently.

She felt it in an instant, the heat of the man as well as something else altogether.  It was an intense feeling, coursing through her hand, snaking up her arm, centering in her chest diffusing outward warming her body. It was like a radiant glowing sun growing, expanding, discharging heat and energy. Then there was something else. Something she could not put a name to but it pulsated, throbbed feeling primitive, primordial, something more...something dangerous, perhaps, possessive.  She never felt anything like it before. The sensations threatened to consume her, devour her. Isn't that what the woman said, he wanted to devour me? Could the old lady have been right? Could there be something between us?

Claire quickly removed her hand from James as if she had been burned. No, Claire decided. No, she decided she had let the old lady get into her head and she had to stop those thoughts now before things got out of hand.

She is flirting with me! Tiny beads of sweat formed on James forehead and upper lip. He ran his finger along the collar of his blue dress shirt trying to let a little air in.

"A bit warm in here is no’ Beauchamp?" James asked as he took his suit jacket off feeling the cool air of the cabin brush across the sweat-dampened shirt molding to his back. His hands were damp too. Surreptitiously he rubbed them against his suit leg hoping that she wouldn't notice what he was doing. He dropped gracelessly into his seat placing his jacket over his lap, his head slumping back against the headrest.

Claire turned to look and her eyes went wide with shock. James had turned a rather unhealthy pasty color much like the color of day-old parritch. Sweat formed on his face and he looked a right mess.

"James, are you ill?" Claire asked a worried expression splayed across her face. "Do you feel faint?" "Are you having a heart attack? Do you feel chest pain?" She was becoming nervous and concerned. "Here let me see if you have a fever."

Her cool hand came to rest on his brow causing him to shiver at her touch. The man was a furnace, not with fever, but with his own body heat. She swiftly took his wrist checking his pulse, fast but regular. Breathing deep but again regular.

"Here let me help take off your tie."  Nimble fingers made quick work of removing James' tie and opening his collar. She began to fan James furiously with the magazine in the pocket of the seat. If she fanned any harder, she would have caused a tornado.

The woman will no’ stop touching me! "I'm fine, Beauchamp."

Her hand is sae soft, sae cool. I wonder what her bonny wee hand would feel like on my…

It was in that moment that James understood that settling his jacket across his lap was a very fortunate thing, as his traitorous anatomy would have put him in a very embarrassing and compromising position.

James closed his eyes, exhaled a deep, low, anguished groan. In an effort to gain control over himself, he began to mentally pray. Lord, I need ye guidance for the challenge I am to face. Grant me ye wisdom, strength, and direction.

Claire took James’ groaning to mean he was worsening. He didn’t look any better either. It seemed that he was growing paler by the second.

“James?” There was no response. “James!” Claire gave him a little shake. He still did not respond.  His pulse was strong and regular.

Fearing that the worst might happen, she signaled the flight attendant who popped up next to her like the jack-in-a-box.

Adopting her surgeon's persona, "I am Dr. Claire Beauchamp and this is Dr. James Fraser. Dr. Fraser is not well. I need your assistance." Claire proceeded to tell the attendant what she would need and gave her an imperious look sending the young woman scampering off.

With all her strength, Claire grabbed the blue button-down dress shirt and yanked it open sending the buttons flying in all directions like tiny projectile missiles. James' chest was exposed; it was toned, well muscled with copper-colored hair lightly furring his chest. I want to touch him.  

By this time the flight attendant returned carrying the AED.

The sound of tearing fabric prompted James swift return to consciousness; he looked at Claire, saw what she was doing and grabbed both her wrists.

"Beauchamp," James said very calmly, "What in hell are ye about? Have ye gone mad?"

Claire startled as if she was watching Lazarus rise from the dead.  Her eyes glistened with tears creeping toward the edges.

Her mouth quivered, moving wordlessly at first, "You...You're alright then?" Her face contorted with relief.  Claire’s hands cupped his cheeks tenderly and stared at his face searching for an answer to her question.  "I thought...I thought I would lose you," she said in a shaky voice. "I thought you were going to die. I had the AED here just in case." One hot fat tear escaped her eye striking James on the chest.

"Hush lass, dinna weep, it's alright, it's alright," he soothed."I was just taken queer for a moment, but I’m alright now. But does that mean if I am taken so again, ye'll try tae undress me once more?" he said while quirking an eyebrow at her and giving her a little chuckle.

Claire took hold of herself, appreciating James’ effort to try to make light of the whole matter allowing her time to regain her composure. She blotted at her eyes and sniffed.

"Don't get any ideas in your head from this Fraser. It just means that I am relieved you're not dead. I wouldn't want to have to go back to the chief and try to explain this. And by the way, be very grateful I didn't try to shock you," Claire huffed glaring at him as if this were all his fault.

“Aye, Claire, I am truly grateful ye did not. It would have hurt like hell,” he smirked.

Both she and James profusely thanked the flight attendant for her assistance and watched her walk off grumbling.  

James stood took down his suitcase, rootled about, found a new shirt and marched to the lavatory with all the dignity he possessed. He passed by where Harry and Maizie were sitting. Harry raised his hand signaling James to stop.

"A moment lad after ye've made yerself presentable, aye?"

James really did not want to talk to Harry again. He thought that Harry was trying to fill his head with ridiculous ideas. He decided he would just walk by.

No such luck.  Harry was waiting for him outside the door. Harry gave James a firm push back inside the lavatory, stepped in and locked the door. There was barely enough room for both large men to stand. James standing at 6' 4" and Harry at 6'; the room was positively claustrophobic.

"Ye ken horses lad?"

What does that have to do with anything? "Aye, I do. And what of it?"

"The lass loves ye, that I ken; it's just that she's scairt, like a young filly that's been misused ye ken.  Someone has hurt her, and hurt her bad. Ye ken what ye need to do with a scairt hurt filly? Be gentle with her."

"Mr. MacLennan, may I ask ye what ye do for a living, sir? Are ye a matchmaker? If so, I dinna require yer services."

"Why I'm a kilt maker,” replied Harry proudly. “And to answer yer other question, no, I am no’ a matchmaker.  Just a man who believes in the power of love. May I ask the same of ye sir, what is yer occupation?"

"I'm a heart surgeon."

"Weel lad, ye may ken how to repair other people's broken hearts. But ye have a long way to go to fix yer own and that lass. Mind what I say to ye." Harry gave James a look imploring him to heed what he said and left.

A kilt maker was giving James love advice. He thought he must be going soft in the heid.

*************************

As Harry pushed James into the lavatory, Maizie took off from her seat rushing up to speak with Claire.  She found Claire picking up the buttons from James’ shirt that had been scattered literally everywhere.  The buttons not only contained the threads in the holes but pieces of the shirt itself was still attached.

Maizie spoke to Claire tenderly, “Lass, are ye alright? And yer lad, is he alright then?”

Claire looked up taking in the genuine concern written across Maizie’s face. “Yes, we’re alright. I guess you saw what happened.”

Maizie chuckled, “Ye caused such a stramash that I think the whole plane kens what happened.”

Claire was mortified. Her face glowed a lovely shade of rose reaching to the tops of her ears. She covered her face and uttered a small sob.

Maizie, in her best grandmotherly gestures, pulled Claire to her bosom and gently cradled her head against her shoulder. “There, there lass, ye meant well.  Ye were only protecting yer man.”

“He’s not mine,” Claire said whimpering against Maizie’s shoulder.

“Aye, lass he is. Ye just dinna ken it and neither does he. What kind of work do ye and yon man do?”

Claire looked at Maizie, tears running down her cheeks, “We’re heart surgeons.”

“I kent ye for a smart lass. I’m going to give you a bit of advice, be yerself, lass, no’ his doctor. Hmmm? All he wants is ye. He loves ye, I am certain of it.”

“But what if he doesn’t like what he finds? I’m afraid I could lose him as my friend.” Claire did not know why she was confiding in this woman who she had known for all of 10 minutes. There was something about the force of her personality that compelled trust.

“Claire, give the lad a chance. He is a special one. Lads like him dinna come along every day.” Maizie gave her a knowing look, “I ken his type well. Trust him.”

Maizie lifted Claire’s chin up.  She inspected Claire’s face, removed a clean but crumpled tissue from her sleeve and wiped away Claire’s tears. Maizie held the tissue to Clare’s nose, “Now blow.” Claire did as she was told.

“Besides, ye are building memories with the lad. Even if ye dinna think them to be good just now.  Ye will laugh at them in later years. On this ye can be sure.” Maizie smiled and winked at Claire.

Claire leaned toward Maizie, gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you Maizie, for everything.”

“‘Twas nothing Claire.  Here,” Maizie handed Claire the buttons she was holding.

“I needta get back to my seat or Harry will worry I ran off with another man.” Maizie gave her a wink and turned hurriedly walking back toward her seat.

Claire sat down, wondering how she would apologize to James.

*******************

Maizie made it back to her seat before Harry came out of the lavatory. Harry took his seat next to Maizie and nodded his head.

“Ye spoke with the lass?”

“I did and ye were right.  She was hurt by someone. Who, I dinna ken. I think she was hurt bad though. She is afraid to lose him.  I told her to just be herself. Did ye speak with him?”

“Aye told him I thought she had been hurt before and was scairt. I told him that he needs to be gentle with her.”

“I think we gave them the best advice we could have. It’s all up to them now,” said Harry with a shrug.

“Aye, ‘tis,” Maizie agreed.  All we can do now is hope for the best.” Harry and Maizie’s hands intertwined. Harry raised her hand to his lips and kissed her wedding ring. “Tha gaol agam ort, mo chridhe.” Maizie looked Harry with such love and devotion and said, “And I you.” She kissed him sweetly on the lips.

*********************

James returned to his seat making himself comfortable after a harrowing start to his trip.

He found Claire sitting there serenely, although it looked as if she had been crying before.

“Fraser, I want to apologize for all the trouble I caused you.  Of course I will pay for the shirt I tore.” Claire blushed at the mention of the shirt.

“Dinna fash, Beauchamp. It’s nay bother. I ken ye were trying to help.  I’m glad of it.  Always kent ye would be there for me. Even if ye kill me in the process.”

Claire gave him a wry smile and gently jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.  “Thank you for understanding.”

He laughed, smiled graciously at her, and patted her hand ending the matter.

The jet made its final turn on to the runway. With a roar of the engines the jet began to gain speed, gaining momentum leaving the terminal buildings behind in a blur. The jet thrust forward, cutting through the air freeing itself of its earthly bonds and suddenly it was airborne.

Finally. They were on their way. James relaxed into his seat sinking down as deeply as he could and he drifted off into what would become a fitful sleep.

Claire, too, yawned and stretched. Sank down into the cushioned seat, curling into herself as best as she could.  Soon she was carried off by Hypnos into the land of sleep.

There was music and dancing. Claire was in the arms of a tall red-headed man dancing around the room with the other couples. The music was fast; she was spinning and twirling about.  The man took hold of her by the waist, lifting her up spinning them around. Her head tossed back in a joyful laugh. He stopped and lowered her down, sliding her body over his. Her messy curls damp from exertion clung in ringlets to her face and neck. “I love you,” she whispered bringing her lips down to meet his. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted of whisky. The kiss warmed her to her core, setting her body on fire for him, only him.  She knew she never wanted to be anywhere else, with anyone else for the remainder of her life. James.

[luigiblood]

Nintendo Switch Online, 1 year in review...

Well, well, well... Nintendo Switch Online...

You’re cheap, but you’re too cheap in return sometimes. I want to talk about it and some of my frustrations about it (and not necessarily with Nintendo). To do this, I will talk about each feature seperately.

Online Play

The most obvious feature is Online Play. It went from being free to being paid, which is pretty much a problem but then the competitors do the same. Many Nintendo games do not have the most stable netplay, even though I do not have most of the problems that other people get.

I’m not going to do a P2P vs Dedicated, or rather I would like to say that people genuinely don’t understand basic netplay and are all going against P2P without knowing that some of the games that works fine are probably all running on P2P to begin with.

I’m not gonna go into the details, nor do I want to say I’m an expert, each have their own pros and cons, but I think the main issue is ultimately the netcode. Here’s hoping with GGPO being open source and free to use for professionals now, the future could be a lot brighter.

I would want Nintendo to take netcode a little more seriously and test it in homes with slower Internet. Testing it with Wi-Fi and Ethernet and everything.

Save Data Cloud

This feature technically works. You’d think it’s hard to fail, right?

Of course they did when some games just don’t provide the support for it because of fear that people may abuse it for cheating... Meh.

Nintendo uses the exemple of having a broken Switch to where this feature might come in handy. Too bad this also means completely lost saves for some of the most important games like Splatoon 2 or Animal Crossing, the latter being really annoying if you lose hundreds or even thousands of hours...

Smartphone App

This one is tough because potential was there. Truly a waste of time.

All of the main services could have just been a website that works on PC and Mobile. But I think the main issue is that people don’t really want to check stuff about their game all the time because there is simply not enough feedback.

There was actually better execution when SplatNet was a regular website accessible on every device, Super Mario Maker Bookmark website too, instead everything is stuck to an app, limiting uses.

Content should be seen from everywhere when it’s possible. Making it work behind a subscription fee was a terrible idea.

And then let’s not even talk about the voice chat. That is a truly depressing thing. Why making it stuck to mobile? I get that you don’t want the Switch to process that stuff for performance reasons but truly that stuff is supported on it too...

Special Offers

Let me list what extra stuff we got from Nintendo Switch Online:

Exclusive Splatoon 2 Gears

Tetris 99

Game Vouchers

The right to buy NES/SNES Controllers

Game Trials (for only one game)

I did not list another thing that will be its own seperate bullet point.

Tetris 99 was truly the best part of this. It’s actually a pretty darn good game. Game Vouchers could have been nice if you couldn’t get the brand new games for cheaper in physical form.

Game Trials was a thing they tested at one point, but then they just didn’t bother...

We, subscribers, don’t really get a lot of extras, do we?

My Nintendo (Bonus Rant)

Nothing has been more of a waste than My Nintendo. Gold Points finally started to be kind of useful since it became an equivalent to a cent for the Switch eShop, but that’s the only good point I could give to it.

Its execution is terrible, and unlike many people, I do not have a lot of good memories about Club Nintendo (the European one, that said), because most of the cool items we only could get the stars we needed much later and then then the item was gone. That’s literally most of my experience with Club Nintendo.

When I learned that with the North American Club Nintendo you could get virtual console games and other cool shit I was genuinely disappointed how the European one was. And I’m not mentioning how the Japanese Club Nintendo had some of the cooler things than the west ever got.

And then My Nintendo has none of the cool things from any regional Club Nintendo... what’s the plan, Nintendo? Why does this exist?

The day 3DS and Wii U will stop being supported, what will happen to the vouchers that you guys always put up? Will it become even more useless?

NES / SNES Nintendo Switch Online

Now the real meat because that’s the stuff I really would like to talk about.

You guys know how involved I am with retro Nintendo content and I can be very invested about this kind of stuff because I just love Nintendo’s games.

Unlike many people, I don’t mind the subscription aspect and the fact you don’t really own these games anymore compared to Virtual Console games. I think this has ultimately been the better thing to do. However I find many problems with the execution of it, especially in the long run.

Due to its subscription nature, I did expect it to have less games than Virtual Console. Rights have to be renegotiated, and the most I expected were Nintendo games. Turns out we got some third parties, some even high profile, pretty cool.

But there are pretty infuriating stuff, like the slow drip feed we get. I get that you want to keep interest going for these games over time but there’s a lot of problems with that entails, and that’s how most of us are frustrated that Nintendo is not using the Switch to its highest potential, and especially about having all of the Nintendo games possible in a small amount of time.

Its portable nature wants us that Nintendo puts all of the retro games as quickly as possible, we want to dedicate our time to the Switch instead of plugging the Wii and Wii U for VC games that aren’t there. We want N64, GB/C/A, GameCube, and more. We want to have Mario Party 2 netplay in an official capacity, and so on...

I noticed the potential of retro Switch Online offer when I found myself addicted to Balloon Fight. Actually a game I’ve never downloaded off ROM sites before, as I usually dismissed it as being too simple. However the game was just there and I gave it a shot. This is one of the reasons why its subscription nature didn’t mind me, it got me to spend time with some games I usually wouldn’t spend time with, especially for NES.

I want to put a list of things that I want Nintendo to do with their retro offering to bring interest, but also sustain it:

- Bigger Drips of games

This seems trivial, but keep in mind that games have to be tested before going live, we pretty much want at least 3 games per month for each console. But stuff takes time and we at least want more communication about this aspect. We just want more games.

- Localized games

This is a personal pet peeve and only works for people whose native language is not English. I do not expect of Nintendo to localize retro games, but at least to release localized ROMs of games when they exist.

I expected of them to release these:

Kirby’s Adventure, French and German versions (yes, they exist)

Super Metroid, European version (that’s a bit more controversial however...)

Zelda: A Link To The Past, French and German versions (French even has an official 60hz version)

Yoshi’s Island, European version.

I know what you could say, 50hz games suck, music is slower- Stop. My only answer is fuck you.

Also, SNES 50hz games cannot have slower music, aside from a few rare ones. If you remember games having slower music on PAL SNES you have a bad memory and mixed up with NES or Mega Drive or something.

I don’t see how, as a developer myself, a selection menu could not be implemented for selecting the language for a game. That way you let people play whatever they want, it’s less painful, everyone is happy.

I still wish for Nintendo to localize retro games however, or maybe even bring unreleased localizations of games if they approved it back then...

- Random Game of the Day / Moment

This seems like a dumb idea, but when I played Balloon Fight I noticed how Nintendo could bring attention to games that don’t necessarily get it.

When the library gets bigger, some games will be left on the side over others, a system to bring motivation to play those games, even as simple as a random game name at the top, is better than what piracy can even bring you.

Maybe you could even implement a button that selects a random game.

- Game Tweaks / Special Versions

AKA USE LUA SCRIPTS IN GAMES

Now we’re starting to get a bit on the expensive side of things.

Special Versions of games aren’t really good on NES, they’re just save states. Some are useful (Golf Course unlocks), some are amusing (Zelda), but most of them are just a save state at the end of the game.

I want them to go on the next stage of this, actually hack the games, or even scripts on top of them. You see, some emulators have scripting features that can alter the game, in ways that improves them (map on Metroid NES), or outright gameplay altering (Kirby Canvas Curse gameplay on Super Mario Bros. 3).

I gave real exemples of use, these could be used to make games easier, harder, balanced, weirder, just like another concept that Nintendo did... NES REMIX. (What a waste of a concept... This really got people into NES games.)

I wish for Nintendo to use their LUA script system already in place for the menus, for their emulator.

This could also aid in development of localization of games without altering the ROM and without space issues.

And this could aid in making SNES Mouse games to work on a touch screen and more, it’s genuinely easy to figure out I could do it myself in a day... ;)

- Shared Library of games between Japan & International

...Well all I want is that I don’t have to need to download the japanese app or the japanese to download the international app to play other games that are not present in the local library. I thought this would have been solved with Super Puyo Puyo 2 but guess not.

This could have the added bonus of japanese games on top of the american (and european?) ones.

- Game Events

Sort of an extra to game tweaks, bringing events for people to play a specific retro game and give them gold points or something. Events could have objectives, achievements, scoreboards, many things could be done here.

You could even bring in the Nintendo World Championship ROMs, other competition stuff, or even games like soundlink games from the Satellaview like BS Zelda, BS Super Mario All-Stars and so on. These games are made for competition!

This is the ultimate thing to bring people to play retro games, bring the unusual games that most people have possibly never even heard about!

- Others

Some of those bullet points don’t need a big explanation:

More Unreleased Retro Games (Japan only or even anywhere)

Localize Retro Games that were never localized (not just in english!)

Borders

Small Control Scheme Help (to compensate for lack of manuals)

5-player Netplay support for SNES (Super Puyo Puyo 2 supports 4 player)

Netplay with Global Rooms with passwords and not just stuck to friends. (This should be a thing for EVERY GAME. This could even be a Switch OS feature.)

Automatic Matchmaking for certain games?

I have also always said this: I’m interested to work with you, Nintendo, on this kind of stuff...