#that's the brand in two wildly different ways

[kierewrites]

What Would Karma Do... when a cruel teacher attacks your class?

navi - masterlist

Karma Akabane x Reader

Mood Song: judas

Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.

Warnings: depictions of violence, cursing, karma being a psycho (when is he not tho), angst with a tooth rotting sweet ending :3

"Woah! Is that..."

"I..It's cake!"

"Hand made eclairs too!

That was just a few of the many comments from your classmates as you all ogled over the picnic blanket full of sweet treats from all around the world. 

Most of the time your P.E. classes consisted of intense training regimens or one-on-one combat lessons with Karasuma, but today played out so much differently than any class before.

Though even with this bizarre change, you couldn't say you were upset. Today had already started rough when you learned Karma was skipping class all day, even though you begged him not to...

"Karma.. staying up late.. isn't an.. excuse for you to.. ditch.. classes!" You whined in between kisses that were surely meant to shut you up.

Karma simply rolled his eyes before pinching your nose and smirking lazily.

"You're the one keeping me up so late angel~"

Pinching your lips together into that adorable pout he loved, you smacked his hand away and narrowed your eyes down at him, "Yeah but I'm still going to class tomorrow."

Karma let out a low growl at this, flipping you over so that he was on top of you now. He tried nearly every tactic he could to convince you to ditch school with him, but even he should’ve known nothing could stand between your academic resolve.

So since your little rascal decided to truly ditch as he promised, you couldn't help but smile for the first time all day upon seeing the lovely treats before you. There were even a few custom treats from back home that you recognized.

"T..These look sorta pricey sir, are you sure?" Isogai questioned nervously, seeming to be the only student that hadn't fallen under the trance of the sweet assortments.

The new P.E. teacher simply boomed with laughter, offering a warm smile to the class.

"Yeah! Chow down kiddos!" The teacher spoke with a large grin, "I didn't break the bank so we could stare at these babies all day!"

"You really know your way around branded sweets dontcha?" Yada spoke with a grin.

Your new teacher simply smiled before closing his eyes,

"Trust me when it comes to the good stuff.. it's love~"

All of the students were in awe at such a generous and kind teacher, not that Karasuma was mean or anything, but this was not your typical day in the Assassination Classroom.

"So you're gonna take over P.E. to help Mr. Karasuma get caught up?" Nagisa questioned, though his eyes were still glued to the chocolate eclair in his hands.

"Yup! Those are my marching orders!" The teacher declared as he looked back at the blue haired boy, "Poor guy needs some time to himself."

The students all seemed to smile at that. Admittedly it felt like Karasuma was running a one man show over here. Sure Korosensei and Professor Jelavic were around, but most of the time it felt like Karasuma was even babysitting them too.

"Wow these treats are truly amazing, thank you so much-" You began, only to be interrupted by a pink blob quite literally drooling over your new P.E teacher's shoulder.

"Ah! This fellow must be Korosensei!" Your teacher exclaimed excitedly, not even minding the literal drool dripping down his shoulder, "Please help yourself!"

Those words seemed to be the final string holding your teacher back as he wildly dug into the treats on the blanket.

"You know sir, being colleagues, you and Mr. Karasuma are night and day." Kimura spoke with a tilted head, Hara joining in with a smile,

"He's nice to us and all but you're like the neighborhood dad!"

The teacher's eyes seemed to light up at that as he let out another booming laugh before dragging you all into his arms with a tight hug.

"Dad.. I like the sound of that!"

All of your classmates seemed to laugh in unison, everyone enjoying the warm embrace and not seeming to worry about the strangely kind personality the teacher had.

-

"Alright everybody here?" Your teacher spoke with a smile, standing before your classmates ready for class.

"Now things are going to be tougher than usual but stick it out like the champs I know you are and we're talking more sweets!" Mr. Takaoka spoke with a grin.

"For us? Or are you really just saving them for yourself?" Nakamura sneered.

"Nope nope..." Mr. Takaoka said with a sheepish smile as he stuck his tongue out and patted his large tummy, "Don't wanna ruin this girlish figure!"

With that the class howled into laughter. This guy was almost too good to be true. Plenty generous, good sense of humor, a true care for the craft he's teaching. He really was like a big old papa bear.

Looking around you noticed your classmates seemed happy enough, nobody was ever really smiling during P.E. class, rather panting and trying to catch their breath. Maybe this would be a good change for you guys?

"Okay then, along with your new training regimen comes a new schedule!"

You along with the rest of your students looked up to the colorful paper your teacher was holding up before raising a brow as he began to hand them out.

The schedule before you was.. chaotic to say the least. 

Almost every period was P.E. class, many of your academic electives now switched to training. Along with that instead of your normal school day length, the training went on until nine o'clock at night!

Looking up with wide eyes you noticed your classmates all looking around with the same bewildered faces. Maybe he was just joking around with you again?

"We have ten periods now?!"

"We train till nine pm?"

Your classmates all threw thirty different questions at the man who stood before you, his smile never faltering as everyone expressed their concerns about the new schedule.

"That's the idea, little grasshoppers!" Your teacher exclaimed with a smile, his joyful personality contrasting with the reality of the situation, "Don't be glum, think of the payoff! This curriculum will turn you into lean, mean, killing machines-"

"Wait hold up hold up, this is ridiculous!" Maehara interrupted, Mr. Takaoka's smile faltering, "First off this is school, we gotta think about grades too."

Mr. Takaoka simply smiled sheepishly while scratching the back of his head. Maybe this guy was just so hardcore he forgot you guys actually had to take academic classes.

"I mean come on we can't go by this! We're supposed to stu-"

The boy's words were cut off when the teacher placed a gentle palm on the top of his head. Everyone seemed to raise a brow until he lifted his knee up and slammed Maehara's chin down onto his knee with a painful crack.

The entire class gasped, your hand flying to your mouth as you backed up on your knees. Was this some sort of sick joke? Did he and Maehara practice this skit? The way his practically lifeless form dropped to the ground really didn't make it seem that way.

"Rule number one, we don't do can't." Mr. Takaoka spoke in a dark voice, his smile still spread across his lips proudly as he watched the boy twitch on the ground in pain.

"Rule number two, we are a family and I'm the dad," He continued to speak, his continuous use of the word "dad" suddenly backfiring on all of you, "Show me a family where dad ain't in charge and I'll show you a family in crisis."

The man began to lecture you all, ominous smile still spread across his face as he walked around your group with his hands expectantly behind his back.

"A father loves each of his children unconditionally, the thought of even losing one of ‘em breaks his heart. We're gonna save the world kids, and we're gonna do it as a family." Mr. Takaoka finished, gathering Mimura and Kanzaki in his arms.

All of you seemed to flinch when he did this, especially your two classmates in his embrace. The sight of both of their cringing faces made you feel hot inside, not in the good way.

"I.. Actually sir, to tell you the truth.." Kanzaki spoke nervously, tugging herself out of his embrace and standing up with her arms nervously clamped together, "I'm not much for P.E. If I have to do it, I much prefer Mr. Karasuma's class!"

You couldn't help but smile at Kanzaki. Even in such a tense situation she always made sure to remain polite and cheerful as she smiled up to the aggressive teacher.

But as soon as you saw Mr. Takaoka lick his lip you knew this wouldn't end well.

Without hesitation he smacked his hand across her face so hard she flew backwards and rolled against the dirt with a cry.

"Kanzaki!" Your classmates cried as a few rushed over to her trembling figure.

"Looks like we're having a bit of a communication gap!" Mr. Takaoka said with that same dreadfully cheerful smile. The sight made your fists clench, Nagisa already seeming to notice the gears in your head turning as he placed a gentle palm on your wrist.

"The only answer here is yes-"

"NO!"

Your sudden shout caused the teacher to pause, his head tilting as a sadistic smile formed on his lips.

"Oh?"

"You can't keep hurting our classmates just because we don't do what you say. You aren't our real teacher and your training regimen is borderline insane! How are we supposed to pass our exams with your foot up our ass till the late night hours?"

Your teacher simply chuckled as he looked at you with wide crazed eyes through his hooded expression.

"Bothers you that much little grasshopper? Come show me what you're gonna do about it then!"

Letting out an annoyed growl you got low, ready to pounce until Nagisa grabbed your wrist more firmly this time.

"Y/n don't bother, he's going to seriously hurt you! This guy clearly isn't a regular gym coach."

Ignoring what he said, all you could do was glare into this man's beady little eyes that only fueled your fire.

"Let go, Nagisa." You hissed before snatching your wrist out of his grasp and darting forward.

Nagisa along with the rest of your classmates watched nervously. As sweet as you were, some of Karma's reckless traits were really starting to rub off on you. Ever since you all had gotten kidnapped, you swore you would get stronger so you could protect everyone, but of course that didn't stop the class from worrying.

Darting forward you blocked his first swing, quickly maneuvering your footing so that you spun behind him, forming your palm to be firm and flat before chopping your hand on the back of his neck right where the pressure point is.

After watching Nagisa and Karma train together, and even getting to train a little bit with them whenever Karma would finally give in to your whining, you learned a few tricks from both of them.

Nagisa was definitely a defensive fighter, more so focused on strategic attacks and blocking. Karma was a hands on offensive attacker, he wasted no time to give the opponent a moment to think.

Finally it seemed like your training had paid off as Mr. Takaoka let out a shout of pain as he stumbled forward onto his hands and knees, your strike seeming to make his vision blur.

"Nice hit Y/n!" Nakumura shouted, your classmates all cheering for you as you wiped a blade of sweat from your forehead.

"It's just like Karma taught me, it's not about the power of your strike but the precision!" You said with a smile, giving the gym teacher one last glance.

A small part of you felt giddy about the experience as you began to rehearse in your head how you would brag to Karma about taking down a grown man. Finally your training was beginning to pay off.

As you began to walk back to your cheerful classmates you felt life almost go into slow motion when you saw Nagisa's smile begin to drop, his eyes widened as he screamed your name and pointed behind you.

Before you could even turn your head back a quarter of the way you felt a strong grip on the back of your ponytail causing you to yell out in pain when the hand tugged you backwards.

"Not so fast you smug bitch." Mr. Takaoka growled with a psychotic smile as he swung his leg up and over your body before cracking it down on your abdomen hard.

The feeling alone had the breath knocked out of you before you could even hit the ground. You let out a sharp scream until your back hit the ground so hard you bounced up from the sheer force, a garbled choke escaping your lips before you officially fell to the ground.

"Y/n!" Your class shouted, Nagisa already sliding on his knees towards you as you struggled for air, loud chokes and gasps filling the air while you shriveled up holding your abdomen in pain. The lack of air wouldn't even allow you to cry as you felt your vision grow blurry.

Nagisa quickly lifted your shirt just enough to see a dark purple bruise forming across your skin, the feeling of something warm and wet being coughed up onto his hand that was keeping you upright.

His eyes widened at the sight of blood, his eyes frantically looking down at you as more of your classmates began to try and help you up.

How had your cheerful P.E. class turned into a bloodbath?

-

Karma continued to huff out profanities as he shuffled up the dirt hill, hands shoved deep in his pockets as a scowl formed on his lips.

"Dumb angel, always making me feel so damn guilty..." Karma mumbled as he kicked a few stones on the way.

It was weird, before he met you he never really cared about anything when it came to academics. He wasn't even depressed or stupid or even lazy, he just didn't quite care.

Where was school going to get him anyway? Graduate next year and go to college to take the same brainwashing classes he's taken since he learned to walk? To get a piece of paper that says congrats, now you can make money!

It was all ridiculous to him.

But ever since your stupid adorable ass showed up into his life, he saw things differently. 

He wanted to have goals in life just to impress you, he wanted to go to college wherever you were going so you could grow together. He wanted to see the world with you, always be at your side so he would never lose you.

He could see it now, both of you finally done with all this school bullshit and sitting along the edge of a cliff that overlooked a vast blue sea as the sun would set along the dazzling colorful sky.

You would be sitting in between his crossed legs as he held you in a tight warm embrace.

"I love you Karma." You would whisper ever so gently from those sweet lips of yours as you tilted your head back so your sparkling hues could stare into his own.

Karma would smile down to you, watching as the ocean breeze danced through both of your locks as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too Y/n." Karma whispered aloud, the sound of his own voice snapping him back to reality as he let out a growl and shook his head.

You were like a demon haunting his mind except quite the opposite, more like an angel from heaven always clouding his mind in the best way possible. You truly were going to be the death of him.

Once finally making it up the hill, Karma came up with the excuse that he forgot his textbook for when his classmates would surely ask why he decided to show up halfway through the day. He would never admit it was just so he could see your pretty face before the day's end.

As he shuffled up the steps lazily he raised a brow when he saw a few students outside, crowded around Mr. Karasuma and some other large man that seemed to be smiling a bit crazy.

Raising a brow he shrugged with a smirk, assuming they were doing some strange training routine.

Sliding the wood door open he walked down the hallway until he saw class 3-E and slid the door open, awaiting to see the rest of his classmates studying silently, only to find the room completely empty.

Freezing he narrowed his eyes around the room, something wasn't right.

There were only about half of his classmates outside training, you not being one of them, where could the rest of you have been? It's not like they split the boys and girls up, he saw a mix of them all outside.

Shutting the classroom door, he decided to make his way back outside until he heard a voice come from down the hall.

"Y/n you have got to stop being so reckless, it's going to get you killed one day!"

The very sentence froze Karma in his tracks, his ears perking up at the sound of your name.

Your weak cough filled the air sending chills down his spine as you spoke up.

"But I..I didn’t die, did I? I had to do something, he was going to hurt all of our classmates!"

The redhead slowly turned his head around with grit teeth, his eyes falling on the door where all the sound was coming from, only to see it was the nurses office.

Karma was praying for his sake and your sake that you just played some crazy prank on someone and that you didn't actually do something reckless. But knowing you, he was sure that wasn't the case.

"So you thought it would be better if he hurt you?" A voice spoke up, "You know Karma's going to kill you for this."

Crescent shaped moons began to form into the redhead’s palms as the very thing he worried about had been confirmed, someone hurt you. Quickly he began to storm down the hallway, ready to slide the door open before he heard your pathetic voice.

"Well I didn't plan on him crushing my spleen," You spoke out stubbornly with another cough, Karma's vision slowly starting to turn red with anger, "Besides, Karma skipped today so Karma will never find out about this. Got it?"

At this Karma froze as a sadistic smile quirked upon his lips, you sneaky little fox.

Putting on the most neutral face he could even amongst his slow boiling anger, he slid the door open causing everyone in the room to jump. His first sight was you, Maehara, and Kanzaki all laying down on the nurse tables. Sugino, Okuda, and Yada were also in the room which must have been the people talking.

"Oh Y/n dearest, am I interrupting something? Sorry I was late for class, just slept through my alarm!" Karma said in a gentle tone, sticking his tongue out to appear innocent.

The sight of your red headed boyfriend caused you to shriek as you forced yourself off of the bed with a grunt. Once you realized standing wasn't quite an option, you leaned on the side of the table, trying to appear as casual as possible. All that silenced your pained whimper was the harsh bite you held on your tongue while you forced a smile.

"K..Karma! I thought uh.. I thought you were skipping today!" You spoke cheekily, though it was clear to everyone how heavy you were breathing. Sugino looked at you nervously to make sure you didn't collapse on the floor as everyone else in the room felt the awkward tension.

Karma smirked down to you, though it wasn’t his signature cocky one, but rather a menacing one as he sauntered over to you.

"Oh you know, I wouldn't want to miss any lessons would I?" Karma spoke darkly, though he kept that same cheerful smile on his face, "Besides I couldn’t possibly make it through the day without a hug from my sweet angel.”

The sound of that caused your eyes to widen, quickly backing up the best you could as he neared you.

"Oh really? I don't know uh.. I'm not quite feeling a hug right now… I'm actually kind of hot!" You exclaimed, your classmates nervously watching as Karma neared you while you ran out of space to back into, "You don't wanna hug all my icky sweat d..do you?"

"Oh, I think I do." Karma growled, forcing his arms around you gently.

Sure enough as soon as he made even the gentlest of contact, you let out a cry as your knees buckled beneath you, Karma quickly caught you before lifting you up on the bed once more.

"Fuck Y/n, do you think I’m an idiot?” Karma growled, grabbing both of your fighting wrists that were trying to push his hands away with one hand, while lifting your shirt up with the other.

Though Karma knew you were injured, he never in a million years expected to see the wound that was displayed across your abdomen. A large maroon bruise stretched from either side of your stomach, the color getting darker at the center.

The redhead let go of your wrists so as not to hurt you any further, deciding to instead grip the edge of the metal bed, the sound of the cool material bending sending chills through your body.

"Who did this?" Karma growled, looking up at you through rageful hooded eyes.

Swallowing nervously you quickly placed both of your hands on either side of his shoulders, remembering how violent he got last time you got kidnapped, he couldn't have you killing your actual teacher, he would surely get expelled.

"Karma calm down, it's seriously not as bad as it looks I promise-"

The sound of his fist slamming down on the table beside you caused you to jump with a small yelp, his pupils narrowed to slits as he angrily glared at you.

"Damnit Y/n, stop trying to be the hero and tell me who did this! It looks like they crushed one of your fucking organs!"

"They made her cough up blood too." Yada spoke from over your shoulder, your head quickly whipping back to glare at her as her comment only fueled your boyfriend's raging mood.

Inhaling sharply, Karma tried to calm himself down so as not to yell at you before looking at you once more.

"Y/n, tell me who did this to you."

Biting at the corner of your lip you let out a defeated sigh and looked away sheepishly.

"We got a new P.E. teacher today, Mr. Takaoka, and he seemed really nice and cheerful... he even brought us treats!" You exclaimed trying to defend your reasoning, "B..But then when he showed us our new training schedules he took out all of our academic classes and was going to make us stay till nine pm everyday."

The sound of that made Karma raise his brow briefly, even to him that made no sense.

"So a few classmates expressed that to him, Maehara and Kanzaki..." You said softly, Karma just now noticing his two other injured classmates that only made him angrier, "But he lashed out and attacked them brutally… He was going to hurt every last one of them if I didn't step in, I swear I wasn't being reckless Karma I just…"

Karma's stern expression broke for a second when he heard you choke over words, you looked down before looking back up with glossy eyes once more.

"I couldn't just stand by again!"

The redhead flinched slightly at this, flashbacks to your conversation after you had gotten kidnapped flooding back to him. Of course you weren't being an idiot like him, you just wanted to protect your friends.

The redhead looked up to the ceiling in a poor attempt to hide the insane rage in his eyes, a ragged sigh escaping his lips before he looked down at you softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your thigh.

"So what you're saying is I need to put an old fuck in his place then, yeah?"

Your eyes widened at this as you watched him stroll out of the nurse's office, you quickly tried to follow after him but not before falling into Okuda's arms.

"Y/n you really shouldn't move..." Okuda said softly as you wrapped your arm around her shoulder.

Looking down at the gentle girl pleadingly, you glanced back at the door, "Okuda please, Karma can't fight that guy, he's going to get hurt!"

Okuda bit her lip before looking at her other classmates that shared worried looks.

"Let's all go out together so we can at least warn Mr. Karasuma and Korosensei."

-

Karma being "mad" was an understatement.

Admittedly he did snap at you which he certainly didn't mean to, but now he was angry for a different reason.

Like hell was some old fashioned pig of a man going to throw his classmates around. Especially after you still were recovering from the kidnapping scenario. He was getting so excited to see your combat skills were vastly improving, so to see you torn back down to square one royally pissed him off.

Slamming the door open he noticed a few eyes on him, but most of them were on the large teacher that was nestled in between Nagisa's legs. Karma’s eyes widened for a moment, impressed that Nagisa was able to take down such a beast.

Clearly the blue haired boy had gotten stronger, and he was sure Nagisa felt just as much rage as him after seeing you in such a state. Still though, he noticed the large teacher get up once Nagisa let go so he knew this wasn't quite over yet.

Soon after Karma began to head to the scene you and your other injured classmates slowly made your way outside, the sight of Karma getting closer to the man causing you to freeze.

Of course Karma could take care of himself, hell you wouldn't be surprised if he could take this man out with his bare fists alone, but it was clear Mr. Takaoka wasn't a fair fighter. Karma was skilled, but he couldn't be prepared if the crazed man pulled a gun on him.

You attempted to call out Karma's name but he pretended not to hear you as he walked to the scene.

Looking around you quickly shouted Mr. Karasuma's name, his concerned eyes moved over to you before looking over to an angry Karma as you pointed to him. Mr. Karasuma gave you a curt nod in understanding.

At this point all you could do was watch the scene play out and hope nobody else got hurt.

"You ungrateful punks." Mr. Takaoka growled, his fists clenched and his body flexed like he was a giant bear, "You think it's fun shaming your father figure, huh?

A pit sat in the bottom of your stomach. Even as beat up as Mr. Takaoka looked, he was still screaming his head off. The expression of pure rage he wore while looking at Nagisa made it look like he was going to rip his head off.

"Having the time of your life pretending you won? Hope it was worth it cause daddy's about to rip you apart! Mind body and soul-"

All of the students began to yell for Nagisa to move, Mr. Karasuma ready to run and stop this crazed man's punch, but Korosensei simply placed his tentacle on Mr. Karasuma's shoulder to hold him back.

Mr. Karasuma angrily looked back at Korosensei in confusion as to why he stopped him, but when a crack filled the air all eyes worriedly looked over to Nagisa.

Once the dust cleared up from the dirt beneath him, everyone gasped in surprise when they saw an unharmed Nagisa with his arm defensively up. If he didn't get hit then what was the cracking sound?

Sure enough the class' crazy redhead stood before Mr. Takaoka, his meaty fist caught by Karma's hand.

Mr. Takaoka let out a grunt of surprise, seeing that his quivering fist stood no chance against Karma’s simple block. To make matters worse, Karma lazily smirked up to the man and let out a sneer.

"Is that all you've got, old man?"

Mr. Takaoka began to shake in fury as he ripped his hand from Karma's grasp.

"Why you little-"

The gym teacher began to throw another fist with much more force, but Karma simply caught it once again and used the force to swing his arm around and pin it against his back so that he couldn't move.

"Nobody likes a sore loser~" Karma cooed tauntingly before his foot connected with Mr. Takaoka's spine, the kick pummeling the teacher into the ground as his face dragged against the dirt.

Everyone watched with wide eyes. No matter how many times they saw Karma in action, everyone seemed to forget his own raw strength beyond his insane ability.

You finally let out a sigh of relief you didn't realize you were holding in this entire time as you watched Karma walk beside the teacher.

Mr. Takaoka attempted to lift his head weakly from the ground, still mumbling out profanities but Karma simply grabbed the base of his skull and slammed his face into the dirt before moving his face real close to the teachers.

The P.E. teacher felt fear flow over his body, the same way he did when Nagisa made his cheap move on him in their previous fight. The red haired boy practically stared into his soul with those sinister golden hues that looked almost excited to have him in such a degrading position.

"Tell me Mr. Tough Guy," Karma spoke calmly before roughly yanking Mr. Takaoka's head to face you and your injured classmates, "Were you the one that harmed my classmates over there?"

The teacher let out a grunt through his teeth, words struggling to form to his lips out of a mix of pain and anger.

Karma simply laughed, sending chills to those around him as he yanked the man's head to face Karma once again, making sure to tug harshly on his hair making Mr. Takaoka scream out in pain.

"I said.." Karma growled with narrowed eyes, "Did you lay even a single finger on my angel over there?"

Mr. Takaoka narrowed his eyes back to Karma, a slight grin coming on his face when he realized where all the anger was bubbling up from within the redhead. Making eye contact with you for a second he let out a choked out laugh before nodding.

"I sure did, and I regret noth-"

The teacher couldn't get out another word before Karma slammed his head directly into the dirt.

"Then you can stay there like the filthy mut you are, teach!" Karma exclaimed with a smile, not even caring to hear what else the man had to say as he stood up and walked back to his silent classmates.

Even after all of that the teacher tried his very best, though wasn't very successful, to get back up to which didn't go unnoticed by Karma.

"Hmmm.." Karma said as if in thought before his eyes fell on Nagisa, "Hand me the knife Nagisa."

The blue haired boy knew better than to question Karma in this state so he handed the knife over, though as Mr. Karasuma yelled for him to stop he soon regretted it.

Karma simply ignored their cries and before they could reach him he threw the knife with such precision it landed directly in the center of Mr. Takaoka's palm causing him to cry out in pain.

"Just so you don't get any ideas of getting up champ." Karma spoke as he patted the man's cheek before standing up and brushing his hands off.

Everyone seemed to let out a sigh when realizing Karma was done. Even with the damage done, his classmates were expecting a much more violent scene to play out, so this was the best outcome that could have happened.

Not even a few moments later as Mr. Karasuma dealt with Mr. Takaoka, the principal himself came down to lead the teacher off the premises. The students were surprised to see the principal take their side for once, but he did once again remind them that he cared about academics above all else.

For now, it was a win for Class 3-E, and the class treated it as such.

Of course both Korosensei and Mr. Karasuma scolded Karma for his dangerous behavior, but given the bizarre situation he got off with a warning. Both knew how possessive he got with you and Korosensei especially knew it came out of a place of concern.

As Mr. Karasuma walked off to check on the other students, Karma moved to go meet with you and Nagisa, only for a tentacle to stop him.

"Y/n truly held her ground you know." Korosensei spoke, Karma freezing as he looked up to his teacher that was already looking at you.

"She kept up with him easily for a few minutes and was able to get him down on his hands and knees, your training with her is really paying off."

Karma glanced from Korosensei back to you as a proud smile flashed across his face. Even with your grotesque injury, you were joking around with your friends, a smile on your face even with the intense day you had.

"I'm really proud of her." Karma spoke simply, those words filling Korosensei's heart up with hope.

"With that said, though she has a lot left to learn from you, don't forget to also keep learning from her."

At this Karma looked up to Korosensei with a raised brow.

"What do you mean?"

"As much as you hate to admit it, Y/n has changed you for the better Karma. You may claim she's made you weaker, but she's truly made you stronger. You aren't as reckless and careless anymore. You truly care for your classmates and want not only the best for them, but the best for yourself."

Korosensei looked down to Karma, who for once all day was speechless.

"You two are going to build each other up into the best individuals you can be, so keep learning from each other young man."

Karma looked back at you with furrowed brows. How did this damned octopus always know exactly what Karma was thinking, but was too embarrassed to say out loud? Hearing it come from Korosensei really made the redhead feel better, but of course he would never admit that.

"Alright alright you big sap, thanks for the advice but it's nothing I didn't already know," Karma spoke as he rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, "Trust me Y/n is going to learn real well from me, she'll be my sweet little assassin by my side in no time."

Korosensei smiled at that until he noticed Karma pull out the knife from before as he flipped it around his fingers.

"And you'll be our first target teach~"

Korosensei began to go off in a frenzy, trying to grab the knife from Karma but to no avail as the boy walked off snickering.

-

For some reason unlike the first traumatic event you had with your classmates, this one didn't hit you as hard as usual. Sure you wished you didn’t have to endure that, the wound across your gut proving that point, but at the same time you felt so warm and safe being surrounded by your friends.

You've learned so much within your time here and it wasn't even the end of the first semester.

"Uh oh, red devil alert." Nagisa spoke nervously, your eyes falling on Karma as he sauntered over to you with an emotionless expression.

Sheepishly looking away you played with your fingers, refusing to look into those disapproving eyes as you awaited the sure lecture he would give you.

Once you heard him sit beside you, you raised a brow when no words came out of his mouth. Just before you could lift your head up, you felt gentle fingers grab your chin and tug your lips towards his own.

The kiss was unlike his usual ones, but not foreign to you. It wasn’t rough or rushed, but rather sweet and coordinated. The redhead kept your chin in his hold even after pulling away, his eyes glancing down to meet your nervous gaze.

"What you did today was crazy and not well thought out," Karma started, his brows furrowing together as he looked at you intensely before a small smile appeared on his lips, "But it was also very brave of you. I'm proud of you for sticking up for your classmates."

For a moment your brain shut off. The words "I'm proud of you" sounded foreign in general, let alone coming from your stubborn boyfriend himself.

Once you processed what was said you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks as your lips rose into the prettiest smile Karma had ever seen in his life. Quickly you gather Karma into your arms, the boy taken aback before welcoming your warm embrace into his arms.

"Thank you Karma." You whispered into his chest, appreciating his new found trust and proudness in you.

This wasn't the same Karma you met when you got here, but you're so happy with how much you've both grown.

"She did totally kick ass Karma." Nagisa said with a grin, the redhead pulling away from you just so he could look at his friend, "She straight up spun behind that guy and before he could even process it, she cracked him right in the back of his neck, it was insane!"

"Oh did she now?"

Smiling wider, you looked over to Karma with a grin as you slowly got up on your knees, grunting a bit as you were trying to be careful not to strain your abdomen.

"I did! He was all like ‘woah where did she go’,” You spoke, mocking the large man’s voice as you knit your brows in an attempt to look scary, “And I was all like, ‘surprise!’ before I chopped down on his neck.”

Karma watched your movements with a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement and pride as you explained your tactics.

“He was totally knocked out for like… a few seconds at least.” You said with a pant, smiling down to the two boys that watched with matching smiles.

Karma couldn’t help but snort at your final pose, his arms grabbing the back of your thighs and gently lifting you into his lap, so as to not agitate your wound any further..

"Of course my sweet angel kicked his ass, she learned from the best after all~" Karma said with a cocky grin, Nagisa giving an unimpressed brow raise as you stuck out your tongue to him.

You all joked around until the class seemed to finally calm down, all of you eating the sweet treats Mr. Takaoka brought before he went psycho on you all.

It wasn't until you hummed against Karma's chest that he felt a sense of deja vu. 

There you were, nestled between his crossed legs, your body cuddled up against his warm embrace as you nibbled on the flakey pastry in your hand.

Looking practically upside down backwards to Karma you stared into his beautiful golden eyes before offering a sweet smile, your lips quite literally covered in white powder from your pastry.

"I love you Karma." You whispered softly, giggling when Karma placed a quick kiss on your lips, only for his tongue to swipe those plush lips of yours to get the remaining powder from them.

Sure you weren't overlooking the large ocean on a dramatically beautiful cliff, and there were a few additions to the picture that Karma could've gone without. But he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"I love you too Y/n."

next chapter

#karma akabane #karma #akabane #karma akabane x reader #karma akabane x you #karma x reader #karma x you #kunugigaoka #assasination classroom #long fic #angst #soft #i’m finally caught up yay :3

[sporeclan]

how do you handle genetics if you do at all in your art

Great question! I'm actually quite the cats genetics nerd and typically when I design my own cat ocs, I go for accurate, realistic genetics. Genetics in ClanGen don't _quiiite_ work that way though, and since I like staying pretty close to the in game sprite's patterns, I'm forced to do the genetics for SporeClan with body/fur shape only.

Since we don't have any SporeClan cats with two in game generated parents as of yet, I made a brand new clan and picked a family from there! I usually try to take a mix of traits from both parents, or go somewhere in between. These two parents here are pretty different, so combined with their already wildly different coat patterns, the siblings look pretty different from eachother. I hope you can still see what I'm trying to portray, though!

One of my FAVOURITE things to do when designing families is giving some of them a unique trait, like the fully pink nose Aphidpeak has passed on to Bubblingspeck, or the full back stripe that both Softrock and Jellyfishfeather inherited from Cypressplume. Also, when cats have parents that are agouti(ticked)/bengal but doesn't inherit the pattern, I still like to include things like the dark feet. I also do this sometimes with white spotting, such as the rings on Softrock's tail.

LASTLY, I do sometimes mess with how I portray the patterning.

Usually when I draw most patterns, I'll draw their underbelly colours with my regular brush, giving them harder lines. But with Softrock, I opted to airbrush in her lighter underbelly, a thing I usually only do with agouti cats, as a nod to her parents. I'll also often mess with just how much the lighter colour goes up (for example, Mousegrove and all her kits have a high amount of the lighter colour, while Dawnpelt and Minklake have barely any)

Anyways, I think that's all.... it's all I can come up with for now, at least :') Hope my ramblings are at least somewhat coherent!

#you all have no idea how much i wanted to instantly burst into tears when i saw jellyfishfeather for the first time #looks EXACTLY like one of my irl cats <3<3<3<3<3 #got extremely attached to him so i want everyone to know he turned out to be transmasc and also became jellyfishstar <3<3<3 #chitchat #ask #i had another family and then a kit from this and that one had kits and i wanted to draw them all for Ultimate Examples Gallore #but i am simply too busy right now to do that :[ sad....... #i will do it if theres any interest though

[zombee]

I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.

This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.

First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.

Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.

(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)

The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.

ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.

Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.

THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!

Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.

(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)

So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.

And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.

I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes. 

So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.

Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends. 

…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.

Because it has happened to me before.

I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it. 

Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!

I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.

I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.

But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.

So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”

BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!

They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end  of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”

As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”

Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.

In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!

It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.

I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”

Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!

I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.

It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.

But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.

Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.

The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.

Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.

· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!

· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.

·        Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!

· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.

· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!

· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!

· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!

And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.

But.

Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.

I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2

[mamachasesmayhem]

Cardinal Rule • Hold You With My Hands Tied

Master | Three | Five

Pairing: Jake Seresin x oc Lexi Knox

Warnings: sweet, fluffy Jake. My competency kink is showing. Protective Jake. Maybe a lil angst at the end? 🫣

Quick note! Lexi’s op has been nicknamed “Oz” so here’s a little key for later!

Monkeys: the little nobodies who are all talk

The Tin Man: the bomber

The Lion: the recruiter

The Scarecrow: the red herring

The Wizard: the head of the organization

The Wicked Witch: the face of the organization

“So, I don’t get it. How do you get ‘Lou’ out of ‘Lexington’?” Gideon mused aloud.

This pulls a snort from Roman and smirks from the rest of the team. Lexi starts to explain when Roman cuts her off.

“You better not ever call her that, at least not to her face. Only people with the name Seresin can do that and still live,” he grins wildly.

Lexi rolls her eyes and continues on after the interruption. “It’s something Jake started the day I met him and Joey. I’m from Kentucky and it’s like nails on a chalkboard for me when Louisville is pronounced Looey-ville.”

“What’s the correct way to say it?”

“Lou-vul. I figured Joey should know the correct way to pronounce the name of our college and corrected her every time,” Lexi smiles at the memory. “Jake gave me hell for it from the start, obnoxiously calling me Lou-vul, eventually it got shortened to Lou and it stuck.”

“You are down so bad for that man, Lex. You ever gonna put him out of his misery and let him love you?” Agent Ellis chimes in as he enters the conference room for debrief.

“You really wanna kick that hornet's nest, Morgan?” Lexi snarked right back.

“Easy, you two. No analyzing teammates, remember?” Agent Spencer teasingly admonished from his seat at the head of the table. “Because, if we were, I’d tell Lexi to suck it up buttercup and to stop letting the idea of your asshole dad cloud your judgment. Commander Seresin is one of the select few people I have genuine respect and admiration for. I’d also tell Morgan to sack up and finally ask out the girl he’s been not so secretly pining for. I know her, she won’t say no.”

Eric smiles smugly at the slightly stunned expressions on three of his team members' faces. “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s get started. Knox, solid work on nailing that lead. With a handful of Monkeys, the Lion, and the Tin Man out of the picture, we’re one step closer to shutting down Oz for good.”

The team quickly logged into their bureau issued iPads and pulled up the case files Roman had brilliantly organized and tailored to each agent. Eric quickly dives in, reviewing all the previously obtained information and detailing the new finds. Lexi’s contact transfer tracing procedure had been crucial in finding the man they’d referred to as the Tin Man; the bomb maker. With every new scrap of evidence, Lexi was tirelessly working to identify and trace every possible point of contact. It’s how she found the bomber, putting her doctorate research and brand new technique to the test. There had been traces of laundry detergent, soil, metal, and a boatload of other things detected in the bomb fragments from the last attack. After sitting down and tracing where they all could have converged, she determined the location of where it could have been built. The address led to a property, the property led to a suspect. It could be extremely tedious at times, but she genuinely loved her job.

While their teammates take off into different directions to chase down tangential leads, people, and places, Lexi and Roman head to their shared office. They very quickly learned that working in the same space was infinitely more productive given how many times a day she called Roman when she was sequestered to a sterile lab. She kept her lab space for when she needed to look at things without the possibility of contamination, but Roman was an invaluable resource when it came to finding any information she needed. With the knowledge of tonight being the first night Joey is out of town (which always made her mopey), Lexi threw herself headfirst into work as a distraction, only pausing to eat a burrito Erin literally threw at her head around lunchtime.

Roman had left a few hours ago, the rest of the team probably an hour ahead of him, leaving Lexi to sulk in silence. Somewhere around the time of their first national championship win their freshman year of college, the typically jaded and distant Kentucky native found herself quite attached to the human version of Tinkerbell she called her roommate. They’d been practically inseparable since, sparing only the week Lexi spent recovering from her emergency surgery. The Seresin family had welcomed her with wide open arms, and she seamlessly spent every school break back on the Texas ranch. Her parents couldn’t have cared less, she was essentially dead to them when she refused to follow along with their ideal to be the perfect housewife. Lexi had dreams of her own, and none of those included being someone’s accessory that’s meant to be seen and not heard.

Just as she’s about to open another file, her phone startles her as it rings.

Wildcat.

She answers quickly. “Hey, Jake. You get Joey sent off ok?”

“We both know you know the answer to that, I’m in the same group text as you and you replied when she said she made it in 4 hours ago. Put a pin in whatever you’re working on, it’ll still be there tomorrow,” Jake warns, clearly aware of her workaholic tendencies.

Lexi swears under her breath, she forgot she replied earlier. “Oh, duh. I just got to cleaning the house and lost track of-”

“Don’t bullshit me. 10 minutes, Lou.”

“You worry too much, Jake. I’ll head out soon, I just gotta-”

“Lexington Aurelia Knox. You have 10 minutes to get your ass in the car.”

His tone left no room for her to wiggle around. Thanks to Joey’s habit of making sure Lexi takes care of herself, Jake is well versed in her ways of letting her goal oriented approach take over if she’s not careful.

“Ugh, fine. You win, I’ll text you when I get to the car,” she pouts, knowing she’s busted.

After shutting down her computer, dropping her Stanley and uneaten snacks in her giant tote, and locking up her office, Lexi manages to wave goodbye to the agents securing the doors with 3 minutes to spare. She fully expected her car to be the last in the lot, but was absolutely zero percent surprised to see an all too familiar Silverado parked next to her Tahoe.

Lo and behold, one very determined Jake Seresin is leaned up against the driver’s side door of her car, arms folded across his chest, and a toothpick clenched between the teeth of a smug grin.

“You do know I don’t have to be babysat, right? I’m a grown ass woman who is perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Lexi huffs, hip checking Jake in an attempt to shove him out of her way so she can climb into her SUV.

“Oh, honey, I’m well aware that you’re a grown woman with a nice ass,” he teases, obviously sweeping his eyes over her figure.

“Gross. You made me stop working so I would go home, now you’re blocking my exit. Move, Tex.”

“Damn, you’re cranky tonight. Good thing I brought you your favorite,” Jake smiles, completely unfazed.

His hand disappears into the bed of his truck briefly before coming back into view with a takeout bag.

Lexi can’t hide the way her stomach growls at the sight of the logo of her favorite cafe printed on the paper bag and her hand reaches for it on its own accord.

“Before you offend me and ask: avocado BLT on sourdough, light mayo, extra pickle on the side.”

With her eyes locked on the bag, Lexi misses the softness in his gaze when he looks at her before she teasingly narrows her eyes at him. “Bringing me Sunny’s doesn’t mean you’re forgiven for being so bossy.”

“If you remember your manners, Lou, I might have another surprise for you.” The signature Seresin Smirk ™️ overtakes his face and makes his dimples pop out in full force.

“You didn’t,” Lexi gasps.

“Be sweet and you’ll find out. Or don’t, and risk me having all that sugary goodness to myself tonight.” He shrugs nonchalantly, like he doesn’t know she would break every one of his fingers for withholding one of Sunny’s famous Kentucky Butter Cake Bars.

Lexi knows Jake didn’t have to go out of his way to make sure she ate and didn’t sleep on the couch in her office, so she appeases him. Her features relax into a genuine smile as she peers up at him. “Thank you for bringing me dinner, Wildcat. I really do appreciate it, even if I’m a little hangry and didn’t show it at first.”

Jake reaches into the truck bed once again, this time his hands produce a small box containing the diabetic coma waiting to happen in a handful of squares.

Lexi fills her passenger seat with her large bag and late dinner before returning to her door. Jake is leaning against his truck, waiting for her to get settled and drive off before even considering getting into his own vehicle. He wears an amused look laced with adoration when she finally turns toward him. He opens his arms in invitation and Lexi doesn’t hesitate to melt into his embrace. Her hands settle on either side of his waist and her cheek rests on his firm chest. Jake’s arms wrap around her and his cheek rests atop her head.

“You and Joey are the strongest people I know. Not just women, all people. I know you’re entirely independent and don’t need anyone, but I sleep a little better at night knowing I helped even the slightest bit,” he murmurs into her hair.

Lexi feels the stress she had carried in her tense shoulders melt away with each second she spends breathing in the warmth and comfort of Jake. He eventually takes a step back, but doesn’t release her completely.

“Text me when you make it home safe, ok?” He requests, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Always do, flyboy.” She steps away and opens her car door. “And Jake? Thank you for checking on me and feeding me. I’ll never say this out loud again and if you repeat it, I’ll call you a liar, but you’re kind of the best. Goodnight.”

With that, she finally climbs into the driver’s seat with a smile and waves as she pulls out of the lot.

The next two weeks continued in a similar fashion, Lexi busted her ass at work and Jake was waiting at her car every night making sure she left at a normal time. He either brought her food, took her to eat, or had something waiting at home for her. They fell into a routine of sorts; after eating dinner, they’d watch a few episodes of a tv show, and Jake would head home for the night.

She had felt the absence of Joey more than she expected. She realized they’d only been separated for a brief period of time, the few months between Joey taking the job in San Diego and Lexi graduating with her doctorate were immensely difficult and she hated to admit how attached she had gotten to the spunky blonde. Sure, she had prepared herself to be home alone, but it still didn’t make the time at home less lonely. Jake stepping in the way he did meant more than she’d ever let on.

Lexi had identified almost every trace and where to find them, but was still hung up on a handful of substances. That Thursday, Jake and the rest of the Daggers got rained out of air maneuvers and he convinced Lexi to take the afternoon off. She only agreed with the concession that she would do a little work from home. She had hoped a change of scenery while attempting to identify the remaining traces would help her figure out what they were.

She was curled up in the corner of the couch with her files pulled up on both her MacBook and iPad screens when Jake walked through the garage door and into Lexi’s living room.

“Hey, Lou! I brought Mexican!” He hollers as he places the bags on the countertop.

While putting their meals on plates, he hears a loud groan of annoyance come from the living room and doesn’t attempt to hide his chuckle.

Bowls of queso and guacamole were placed on the table, followed by their plates, and finally a gallon jug of their favorite margaritas.

“Jesus Christ, Jake. How much money have you spent feeding me lately?!” Lexi asks, just now realizing he’s the sole reason she’s eaten with Joey gone.

“Not as much as you think, your half pint ass doesn’t cost much to feed. It’s like adding an appetizer to my dinners,” he teases. “What's got you so frustrated?”

He drops down on the couch next to her and holds his hand out for the iPad to switch it out with a tumbler filled with margarita. Lexi concedes and takes a large drink before sighing.

“I can’t figure out this last compound and it’s pissing me the fuck off! I can’t identify it and I feel like it’s right under my nose,” she whines and flops her head back on the couch.

Knowing Lexi would never take anything that could compromise her case out of the building, Jake gestures towards the still unlocked iPad. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Do your worst,” she replies.

Most people don’t try to look beyond the cocky Hangman persona Jake projects, because if they did, they’d know he was brilliant. Lexi and Joey both graduated college (Lexi eventually with her PhD) with top grades and a lot of it was due to Jake’s help. His study techniques were incredible, all three of their successes reflected that.

Jake’s eyes are trained on the screen and Lexi takes the opportunity to drown her frustrations in chips and queso while he reads. She can’t help her grin when she notices that he brought her favorite; a giant burrito filled with steak, refried beans, and cheese. As usual, there’s an identical one on Jake’s plate plus rice and fajitas. Lexi had gotten Jake hooked on the burrito the week she’d stayed with him after her appendix was removed. He’d made fun of her at first, then tried a bite and never looked back.

Jake wordlessly reached for her laptop, surely wanting to check the database to confirm his finding, and she handed it over before reaching for her plate. Not even two bites in, Jake sets both devices down and smiles broadly at her.

She looks up, eyes wide. “No the fuck you did not.”

“Yes the fuck I did,” his eyes sparkle as he speaks. “In your defense, I work with this stuff everyday. It’s JP-5, sulfur, carbon, and potassium nitrate. Aka jet fuel and gunpowder.”

Lexi scrambles to deposit her food back on the coffee table and quickly grabs the iPad. “Holy shit! Oh my God, I could kiss your face!”

“Damn, all I gotta do is talk nerdy to ya and you’re ready to break your rules?! I shoulda done that a while ago,” he teases, leaving a kiss at her temple.

Jake sees her wheels spinning and already knows what she’s thinking. “I’ll make you a deal, you finish eating to soak up that tiny bit of tequila and I’ll take you to the tarmac since the rain quit?”

Lexi scrambles into his lap, hugs him tightly, and kisses his cheek. “You got yourself a deal, wildcat!”

If Jake is stunned by the display of affection, he doesn’t let on. He simply smiles, picks up his own plate, and digs in.

An hour and a half later, they’re pulling up to the hangars where Jake spends most of his time during work hours. He’s not sure what she’s looking for, but he dutifully leads Lexi around the tarmac, happy to watch her back. He can’t help but feel like they’ve had eyes on them the entire time, and he would rather die than let anything happen to the little hellcat he’s been following around for the last few hours. She stopped sporadically, pulling gloves and specimen bags out of her backpack and collecting samples.

It’s approaching midnight when they finally return to the girls’ shared home. After feeling like they’d been watched for the last few hours, Jake was reluctant to leave immediately. Seemingly sensing this, Lexi invites Jake in to finish watching their show.

Walking the fine line between awake and asleep, Lexi burrows into Jake’s chest. “It’s kind of annoying, you know.”

“What is, shortcake?” He hums in response.

“How warm and cozy you are. Can I tell you a secret?”

“You can tell me all your secrets, you should know that by now.”

Lexi is silent for a second before she quietly responds. “I trust my team to have my back no matter what. But I’ve never felt safer doing recon than I did when you were with me earlier.”

“Can’t beat grade A, grass fed Texas men, honey,” he replies with a smirk, trying to break the tension.

“Nah, it’s just because it was you, Jake. I know nobody will ever protect me like you do,” she hums into the spot where she’s nestled against his chest.

“You’re damn right, Lou. I’d never let anything happen to you, ever.”

“That’s part of the problem, you know?”

Jake is thoroughly confused when he replies. “What problem?”

“The-well…the you problem. I’ve kept my guard up with every guy I’ve dated with no problem. But you’ve taken my defenses down, brick by brick, and I’m not even mad about it anymore. Damn Seresins, worming your way into my heart.”

Jake’s breath stalls in his chest, his heart most likely stopped beating for a few seconds as he processes what she just shared with him. He knows she’s sleepy and a little tipsy and probably didn’t mean to share as much as she just did.

He decides now probably isn’t the best time to drop his full feelings on her, they’ll save that for another time. “You’re our girl, shortcake. Have been since day one,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her head once again.

It’s a gesture both of them have grown to adore, and Lexi snuggles in tighter, humming contentedly. As much as it kills him to do, Jake moves to get up. “I should probably head out.”

Lexi’s response shocks him slightly. She wraps her arms around him and murmurs a single word. “Stay.”

It’s not a question or suggestion, but Jake still wants to clarify. “You sure?”

“Mmhmm. You’re comfy, don’t go.”

And how on earth could he deny her when she asks so sweetly?

Lexi is roused from sleep the next morning when an alarm goes off before the sun is up.

“Nooo, turn it off,” Lexi whines, tucking herself in tighter against the warm chest she’d been using as a pillow.

She knows exactly where she is and exactly who she’s laying on.

Jake.

While it’s a new occurrence, she doesn’t have even an ounce of regret in her body about it.

“I don’t wanna go, but I gotta,” Jake coos, gently brushing her hair away from her face.

“I do too. Some smartass helped me crack my case last night and I gotta share it with the team,” she grins up at him. “No more tequila after ten on a work night though. We’re old now,” she groans.

Jake’s chest rumbles under her cheek with his chuckle. They lay in quiet comfort for a few minutes before his snoozed alarm goes off again. Jake stretches as he stands and then pulls Lexi up and into his arms.

He’s gently scratching her scalp when he finally decides to ask the question. “Have dinner with me tonight?”

Lexi quirks an eyebrow at him. “I’ve had dinner with you every night for the last two weeks, Jake.”

“Such a smartass,” he grumbles, making her smile. “Go out to dinner with me tonight? On an actual date. Like clammy hands and wondering if I’m gonna kiss you when I drop you off afterwards kinda date.”

“As if you wouldn’t be coming inside afterwards,” she teases back.

“That’s what she said!” They both yell in unison before giggling over their joke.

“Yeah, Jake. It’s a date.”

He kisses the top of her head once more before heading for the door, having to rush to stop by his house to grab his flightsuit before work. “Text me when you get to work and we can decide the details for later! Bye, shortcake!”

Lexi grins to herself the rest of the morning and she takes her time getting ready, the flush permanent on her cheeks by the time she meets the team in the conference room to brief them on her discovery.

“Oh ho ho, am I seeing things or is Lexi Hard Knox smiling today? You saw Jake again last night, didn’t you?” Morgan ribs, plopping into his seat with a smug grin. His question catches the attention of Eric, Emily, and Roman immediately.

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Lexi grins at the stunned expressions on everyone’s face and decides to take it a step further. “He actually stayed the night too, after he helped me crack the last two compounds that resulted in my gathering y’all this morning.”

The room is nothing but gaping fish staring back at her, shock evident in all of their features. Once the rest of the team joins, Lexi quickly slips into work mode and launches into her newest findings. She explains how the JP-5 and gunpowder combination couldn’t be found anywhere other than the naval air base and they now need to be looking at anyone who would have access to the base. Her heart sinks at the thought she could know the person involved, that Jake could unknowingly be friends with a domestic terrorist. The rest of the team picks up on that as well and swears to find the traitor quickly, promising to keep her and Jake safe as well.

The whole team spends the entire day deep in hunting mode. Roman pulls up a list of who all could have access, Lexi cross checks with possible contacts, and the rest of the team is running down leads. Before she knows it, it’s creeping up on the time she agreed to meet Jake for dinner. She’d packed her makeup, a sundress, and wedges so she could stay at work as late as possible but still look put together at one of the nicer restaurants in the area.

Lexi was anxious yet excited. She’d spent the last ten years of her life pretending like Jake didn’t affect her, so acknowledging the fact their relationship was a long time coming was an odd feeling. They had a lot to talk about, that was for sure. While she thrived on the constant change in her professional life, changes in her personal life made her stomach turn. Her mind is going a hundred miles an hour as she applies her makeup, internally questioning if she’s actually ready for this.

Across town, Jake is parking his truck at the restaurant. He’s a solid half hour early, but he was so nervous that he had done everything he could think of to burn off the energy in record time. He really hated that he couldn’t pick Lexi up like he would for a proper date, but he knew she had a lot going on with work and probably needed the extra comfort of having her own car waiting outside if she needed it. He had so many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to tell her, but he was also scared as hell that he might spook her by moving so fast. He finally climbed out of his truck 10 minutes before their reservation and headed inside. Once seated, he ordered a bottle of Lexi's favorite wine and waited for her arrival.

10 minutes ticked by.

Then 15.

He pulled his phone out to check and see if she’d texted him to let him know she was running behind, but there was no unread message.

Frowning, he taps out a message to see where she is. It goes unread after a few minutes, which is entirely unexpected. After a few more minutes, he calls her and it goes straight to voicemail.

She’s now half an hour late, and she’s never late.

Jake’s heart sinks as he tries not to panic. She must have turned her phone off.

He shoots off a message to Joey, asking if she’d heard from her lately. She quickly replies saying no and asking what was going on. Jake promised he’d call her later and catch her up on what’s going on.

Because something is going on, something just has to be.

She wouldn’t ask him to stay and agree to a date only to blow him off, right?

Right?

#Spotify #jake seresin #mama mayhem writes #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #dagger au #jake seresin fluff #cardinal rule #jake and lexi #lexi knox

[devsgames]

Game Optimization and Production

I wanted to write a bit of a light primer about optimization and how it relates to game production in the event people just don't know how it works, based on my experience as a dev. I'm by no means an expert in optimization myself, but I've done enough of it on my own titles and planned around it enough at this point to understand the gist of what it comes down to and considerations therein. Spoilers: games being unoptimized are rarely because devs are lazy, and more because games are incredibly hard to make and studios are notoriously cheap.

(As an aside, this was largely prompted by seeing someone complaining about how "modern" game developers are 'lazy' because "they don't remember their N64/Gamecube/Wii/PS2 or PS3 dropping frames". I feel compelled to remind people that 'I don't remember' is often the key part of the "old consoles didn't lag" equation, because early console titles ABSOLUTELY dropped frames and way more frequently and intensely than many modern consoles do. Honestly I'd be willing to bet that big budget games on average have become more stable over time. Honorable mention to this thread of people saying "Oh yeah the N64 is laggy as all hell" :') )

Anywho, here goes!

Optimization

The reason games suffer performance problems isn't because game developers are phoning it in or half-assing it (which is always a bad-faith statement when most devs work in unrealistic deadlines, for barely enough pay, under crunch conditions). Optimization issues like frame drops are often because of factors like ~hardware fragmentation~ and how that relates to the realities of game production.

I think the general public sees "optimization" as "Oh the dev decided to do a lazy implementation of a feature instead of a good one" or "this game has bugs", which is very broad and often very misguided. Optimization is effectively expanding the performance of a game to be performance-acceptable to the maximum amount of people - this can be by various factors that are different for every game and its specific contexts, from lowering shader passes, refactoring scripts, or just plain re-doing work in a more efficient way. Rarely is it just one or two things, and it's informed by many factors which vary wildly between projects.

However, the root cause why any of this is necessary in the first place is something called "Platform Fragmentation".

What Is Fragmentation

"Fragmentation" is the possibility space of variation within hardware being used to run a game. Basically, the likelihood that a user is playing a game on a different hardware than the one you're testing on - if two users are playing your game on different hardware, they are 'fragmented' from one another.

As an example, here's a graphic that shows the fragmentation of mobile devices based on model and user share. The different sizes are how many users are using a different type of model of phone:

As you can tell, that's a lot of different devices to have to build for!

So how does this matter?

For PC game developers, fragmentation means that an end-user's setup is virtually impossible to predict, because PC users frequently customize and change their hardware. Most PC users potentially have completely different hardware entirely.

Is your player using an up-to-date GPU? CPU? How much RAM do they have? Are they playing on a notebook? A gaming laptop? What brand hardware are they using? How much storage space is free? What OS are they using? How are they using input?

Moreover PC parts don't often get "sunsetted" whole-cloth like old consoles do, so there's also the factor of having to support hardware that could be coming up on 5, 10 or 15 years old in some cases.

For console developers it's a little easier - you generally know exactly what hardware you're building for, and you're often testing directly on a version of the console itself. This is a big reason why Nintendo's first party titles feel so smooth - because they only build for their own systems, and know exactly what they're building for at all times. The biggest unknowns are usually smaller things like televisions and hookups therein, but the big stuff is largely very predictable. They're building for architecture that they also made themselves, which makes them incredibly privileged production-wise!

Fragmentation basically means that it's difficult - or nearly impossible - for a developer to know exactly what their users are playing their games on, and even more challenging to guarantee their game is compatible everywhere.

Benchmarking

Since fragmentation makes it very difficult to build for absolutely everybody, at some point during development every developer has to draw a line in the sand and say "Okay, [x] combination of hardware components is what we're going to test on", and prioritize that calibre of setup before everything else. This is both to make testing easier (so testers don't have to play the game on every single variation of hardware), and also to assist in optimization planning. This is a "benchmark".

Usually the benchmark requirements are chosen for balancing visual fidelity, gameplay, and percentage of the market you're aiming for, among other considerations. Often for a game that is cross-platform for both PC and console, this benchmark will be informed by the console requirements in some way, which often set the bar for a target market (a cross-platform PC and console game isn't going to set a benchmark that is impossible for a console to play, though it might push the limits if PC users are the priority market). Sometimes games hit their target benchmarks, sometimes they don't - as with anything in game development it can be a real crap shoot.

In my case for my games which are often graphically intensive and poorly made by myself alone, my benchmark is often a machine that is approximately ~5 years old and I usually take measures to avoid practices which are generally bad and can build up to become very expensive over time. Bigger studios with more people aiming at modern targets will likely prioritize hardware from within the last couple years to have their games look the best for users with newest hardware - after all, other users will often catch up as hardware evolves.

This benchmark allows devs to have breathing room from the fragmentation problem. If the game works on weaker machines - great! If it doesn't - that's fine, we can add options to lower quality settings so it will. In the worst case, we can ignore it. After all, minimum requirements exist for a reason - a known evil in game development is not everyone will be able to run your game.

Making The Game

As with any game, the more time you spend on something is the more money being spent on it - in some cases, extensive optimization isn't worth the return of investment. A line needs to be drawn and at some point everyone can't play your game on everything, so throwing in the towel and saying "this isn't great, but it's good enough to ship" needs to be done if the game is going to ship at all.

Optimizing to make sure that the 0.1% of users with specific hardware can play your game probably isn't worth spending a week on the work. Frankly, once you hit a certain point some of those concerns are easier put off until post-launch when you know how much engagement your game has, how many users of certain hardware are actually playing, and how much time/budget you have to spend post-launch on improving the game for them. Especially in this "Games As A Service" market, people are frequently expecting games to receive constant updates on things like performance after launch, so there's always more time to push changes and smooth things out as time goes on. Studios are also notoriously squirrelly with money, and many would rather get a game out into paying customer's hands than sit around making sure that everything is fine-tuned (in contrast to most developers who would rather the game they've worked on for years be fine-tuned than not).

Comparatively to the pre-Day One patch era; once you printed a game on a disc it is there forever and there's no improving it or turning back. A frightening prospect which resulted in lots of games just straight up getting recalled because they featured bugs or things that didn't work. 😬

Point is though, targeted optimization happens as part of development process, and optimization in general often something every team helps out with organically as production goes on - level designers refactor scripts to be more efficient, graphics programmers update shaders to cut down on passes, artists trim out poly counts where they can to gradually achieve better performance. It's an all-hands-on-deck sort of approach that affects all devs, and often something that is progressively tracked as development rolls on, as a few small things can add up to larger performance issues.

In large studios, every developer is in charge of optimizing their own content to some extent, and some performance teams are often formed to be dedicated to finding the easiest, safest and quickest optimization wins. Unless you plan smartly in the beginning, some optimizations can also just be deemed to dangerous and out-of-reach to carry out late in production, as they may have dependencies or risk compromising core build stability - at the end of the day more frames aren't worth a crashing game.

Conclusion

Games suffer from performance issues because video game production is immensely complex and there's a lot of different shifting factors that inform when, how, and why a game might be optimized a certain way. Optimization is frequently a production consideration as much as a development one, and it's disingenuous to imply that games lag because developers are lazy.

I think it's worth emphasizing that if optimization doesn't happen, isn't accommodated, or perhaps is undervalued as part of the process it's rarely if ever because the developers didn't want to do it; rather, it's because it cost the studio too much money. As with everything in our industry, the company is the one calling the final shots in development. If a part of a game seems to have fallen behind in development it's often because the studio deemed it acceptable, refused to move deadlines or extend a hand to help it come together better at fear of spending more money on it. Rarely if ever should individual developers be held accountable for the failings of companies!

Anywho, thanks for reading! I know optimization is a weird mystical sort of blind spot for a lot of dev folks, so I hope this at least helps shed some light on considerations that weigh in as part of the process on that :) I've been meaning to write a more practical workshop-style step-by-step on how to profile and spot optimization wins at some point in the future, but haven't had the time for it - hopefully I can spin something up in the next few weeks!

#gamedev #game development #game dev #indie games #indie game #gamedevelopment #indiegames #pc gaming #pc games #indie dev #indiedev #video games #video game #blog #thoughts #optimization

[acestyx]

Eddie took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, leg bouncing wildly underneath his elbow. Anxiety and hunger panged deep his stomach, making him press his knuckles to his lips.

Steve entered the room, carrying a First-Aid kit and a glass of apple juice. 

He set them down on the coffee table and sat next to Eddie, placing his hand lightly on top of the other’s forearm. “Hey,” Eddie tensed under the touch, Steve’s fingers feeling like hot brands on his skin. “Look at me.”

Eddie lifted his head to meet Steve’s eyes and part of him wished he didn’t. Eddie could tell Steve was trying his darndest to look calm, eyebrows turned up with a soft half-smile. But nothing really gives a person away as much as a heartbeat.

The usual ‘th-thump ’ had quickened significantly, now resembling more of a nervous flutter. Steve gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, and Eddie felt his pulse thrumming rapidly in his veins. “You ready?”

The bouncing of Eddie’s knee has slowed down a bit, but nerves still ate at him. “You really don’t need to do this man, seriously.” He scooted away from Steve a little as to distance himself from the skittish rhythm taunting him. “It’s not that bad, I can—“

A long growl emitted from Eddie’s abdomen, causing him to wince and double over.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, leaning down so he was level with him. “Eddie, it’s been like what, a week? I don’t know how this shit works but that’s way too long, even for normal food.” 

Steve was right. A normal person would be famished after a week without food. The weird thing though was that Eddie had eaten regular food. He literally had a sandwich a little less than an hour ago. But this was different. It was like his normal hunger and his blood-thirst were two entirely separate entities.

Eddie pressed his palms into his eyes. “I know, I know I’m just—“ He inhaled deeply and instantly regretted doing so. The smell of Steve’s blood filled his lungs, making the room spin and his stomach cramp. 

Eddie wet his lips, trying to coax words out of his mouth. “What if I take too much?” 

“Well, that’s what the juice is for.” Steve chuckled, picking up the glass and shaking it gingerly.

“Steve, I’m serious.” Eddie snapped to look at Steve, voice breaking in his throat. “What if I hurt you? Like for real?” The mere thought terrified him. Not being in control of himself, lost to whatever demonic shit the Upside Down did to him. 

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ended up seriously injuring Steve, or worse. He felt himself start to hyperventilate. “What if I—”

“Hey hey, listen ,” Steve turned his whole body so that he was facing Eddie. He set the glass down and placed the hand on Eddie’s other shoulder, rotating Eddie towards him and looking him dead in the eyes.

“I trust you.” His eyes were warm and the beat of his heart, although still fast and jittery, didn’t fluctuate. He was telling the truth. “Okay?”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a moment to steady his breathing. “Okay.” 

He scooched closer into Steve’s space, maneuvering himself so that although he wasn’t completely in Steve’s lap, their legs were overlapping. 

“If you uh—feel like you’re gonna pass out or anything, don’t hesitate to knee me in the balls, ‘kay?” Eddie joked, trying to lighten the mood and settle his own nerves. It must’ve worked because he felt Steve’s shoulders shake underneath him, a quiet laugh escaping his mouth. “Got it.”

Eddie pressed two fingers firm into Steve’s neck and slid them around a little, trying to find a tender spot that wouldn’t hurt too bad. He ran his tongue over his canines, which were starting to ache. 

Each movement caused a jolt in Steve’s pulse, which Eddie could both hear and feel in tandem. “Are you nervous?”

“Eh, not really.” Steve’s heart rate jumped. Lie.

“S’just like getting blood drawn, right? No biggie.” Another lie.

Eddie chuckled lowly as he felt Steve swallow under his fingers. Steve’s brow furrowed. “What’s funny?” He breathed as Eddie drew closer to his neck.

“Your heart.” He felt animalistic in the moment, Steve squirming under him like some sort of prey. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t excite him a little. “It’s kinda telling on you, man.”

Steve stiffened a little, chest rising and falling a little faster than before. “My heart?”

“Mhm.” Eddie couldn’t hold back a smirk as he slowly dragged his fingers from the side of Steve’s neck all the way down to the middle of his chest. Eddie felt Steve’s breath hitch, loud thumps hammering against his fingertips. “Normally…”

Eddie tapped a steady rhythm onto Steve’s chest, mimicking a heartbeat. “It’s like this.”

“But now…” Eddie quickened the pace of his tapping to match the tempo of Steve’s racing heart. He looked back up and raised an eyebrow. 

Steve flexed his jaw, a blush creeping up his neck. “You can hear that?” 

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, only to immediately be hit with the overwhelming scent of Steve’s blood. 

Seeing Steve all red and flustered would’ve been way more amusing if the blood pumping underneath his skin wasn’t so tantalizing.

Heart palpitating, lips soft-looking, face hot and flushed, it was driving Eddie insane. Steve looked absolutely delectable .

It took every muscle in Eddie’s body to not tear into him right then and there. A low whine sounded involuntary in the back of his throat. 

“Eddie?” Steve said almost in a whisper, briefly snapping Eddie out of his bloodlust.

Eddie licked his lips and leaned closer, mouth visibly salivating. “Can…I…?” He rasped, doing everything in his power to hold himself back. 

Steve blinked. “ Oh. Yeah yeah, um—whenever you‘re ready.”

Eddie opened his mouth, teeth grazing a taut spot on Steve’s neck. He felt Steve flinch, heart still slamming rhythmically against the fingers pressed into his chest. 

“Hm-mh?” Eddie hummed, asking for a final grant of permission.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and Eddie felt him brace.

“Do it.”

Eddie forced his jaw down, sharp fangs sinking into freckled skin.

Steve bit back a groan, chest heaving as Eddie placed his lips flush against the wound, lapping up the blood rapidly flowing out of it. 

Eddie’s eyes widened and he breathed out a moan as sugary copper splashed onto his tongue. 

“It’s sweet…” Eddie thought as he continued to drink from the puncture. His hand snaked from Steve’s chest all the way up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling so his neck was at a better angle. 

“Fuck.” Steve choked out before clapping a hand over his mouth, muffling any other noises that threatened to escape him.

Eddie barely heard him, the whole experience overwhelming his senses.

Steve’s blood tasted like nectar on his tongue, metallic but leaving a sweet aftertaste that he just couldn’t get enough of. Warmth spread throughout his body, sending a wave of shivers up his own spine. 

Steve’s heart was still going crazy, throbbing loudly against his ribs and in Eddie’s ears. His breathing has slowed a bit, but the breaths were still shallow.

A trail of blood dripped down Steve’s neck, pooling in the curve of his collarbone and staining his shirt. 

Eddie wasted none of it, dipping down and licking along the small divot.

“Jesus, E-Eddie…” Steve shuddered. “Slow down—s’not going anywhere.”

Eddie grumbled a response into the crook of his neck, immediately feeling goosebumps rise against his lips. 

The fog in his head cleared enough to notice Steve shift uncomfortably in the seat. A quiet whimper left his mouth, catching Eddie a bit off guard. 

Right. Eddie thought. This probably hurts like hell.

The hand that gripped Steve’s hair loosened, instead gently carding through the strands to try and bring the man some sort of comfort.

Eddie felt Steve go limp against him, melting into the touch. His furrowed expression softened as he let out a sigh. 

Steve tensed again as Eddie went back to the wound, but quickly relaxed, shoulders drooping down slightly.

He pulled away from Steve, licking some of the mess off his mouth and examining the bite.

The bleeding had stopped mostly, but the skin around it was red and quickly bruising. 

“Shit.” Eddie mumbled, slowly coming off his high. Steve turned his head, wincing slightly. “You done?” 

Eddie swallowed. “I—I think so.” Steve’s face was starting to pale but he gave Eddie a wobbly smile. 

“Good.” He sighed, dropping his head onto the back of the couch. “The room was starting to spin a little.”

Eddie backed away slightly and his eyes skimmed over Steve’s skin, taking notice of the fading scar around the middle of his neck. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him and he averted his gaze.

“How d’you feel now?” Steve asked, trying to restrict any neck movement.

Eddie smiled apologetically. “I should be asking you.” Admittedly, he felt amazing , better than he had in a long time. Steve, however, looked like he was about to pass out.

Eddie reached over and grabbed the glass of juice, handing it over to Steve. Eddie watched him take small sips, face scrunching in pain every once in a while. 

Eddie’s brows furrowed upwards. “Does it hurt to drink?” Steve hummed into the glass before setting it down. “A little.”

Another wave of guilt passed through Eddie as he grabbed the medkit. He unzipped it, pulling out some rubbing alcohol, a few cotton balls, and a gauze pad.

He poured the alcohol onto the cotton and turned to Steve, holding it up to the bite. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch, sorry.”

Eddie pressed the soaked cotton into the wound, wincing sympathetically as Steve writhed, sucking air through his teeth. “FUCK, that stings.”

“Told you.” Eddie huffed, continuing to disinfect the bite.

Eventually the stinging subsided, as Steve took a breath and relaxed back into the couch. Eddie gently dabbed the wound, taking extra care to not irritate it any further.

Eddie’s fingers accidentally grazed Steve’s jaw, and his eyebrows knitted together when Steve’s heart rate jumped. Huh?

Eddie paused for a brief moment. Steve’s pulse had been fluctuating ever since he walked into the room, but Eddie assumed it was nerves. After all, the situation wasn’t exactly calming. 

But Eddie was done, “back to normal.” There was no reason for Steve to be nervous. So why—

Before he could rationalize that thought, something else caught his eye. Something he couldn’t believe. His eyes flew open, mouth gaping. “Holy shit.” 

Steve looked over to Eddie, worry crinkling his brow when he saw Eddie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Th—the bite…” Eddie stammered, eyes still trained on Steve’s neck. “It’s healing. Like really fast.”

Sure enough, the two punctures Eddie had made in Steve’s neck had begun to close up. It was subtle but certain, as the bite marks were now the size of some of his moles. 

Steve’s eyes bugged as his hand flew to his neck. “What?” By the time Steve’s hand reached his neck, the bite was practically non-existent.

He felt around a bit, fingers smoothing over unscathed skin. He laughed incredulously. “That’s so trippy.”

Eddie’s eyes were still wide as saucers. “Trippy? I know you’re used to this shit but your nonchalant-ness is kinda freakin’ me out.”

Steve pressed down on his skin before wincing and pulling his hand back. “Still super sore, though.”

Eddie nodded, grabbing the gauze pad. “Yeah, a lot of the bruising’s still there.” He peeled off the backing and stuck it to Steve’s neck. “The kids’ll probably ask what happened, nosy lil’ shits.”

Eddie heard Steve’s heartbeat quicken as a smirk dawned his face. “That’s ok. I can just tell em’ I got a killer hickey.” 

Eddie’s face roared with heat and he kicked Steve’s shin, flushing more when he burst into laughter.

“If you say that to anyone, I’m killing you next time.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised. “Next time?” 

Eddie blinked, trying to recover his fumble. “I—I mean obviously you don’t have to, especially because it probably felt awful—”

“Eddie.” Steve tried to interject.

“Actually, I don’t know why you’d even want to, that was a stupid—”

“Eddie.” Steve put both of his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, looking up into Steve’s soft eyes.

“I’d like that.”

Eddie hoped his face didn’t look as dumbfounded as it felt. “You would?”

Steve shrugged, but Eddie didn’t miss how his pulse jumped. “Well, we know the bites heal fast, so it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else. Plus, you need blood, and we really don’t need another Mews incident.” 

Eddie’s brow pinched. “Mews incident?”

Steve waved dismissively. “Long story.”

“And uh—” Steve shifted again, and Eddie heard his heart begin to thud hard in his chest. 

“I didn’t mind it.” He murmured, face reddening. “The y’know—blood-sucking. Thing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, face most definitely matching Steve’s complexion. “You didn’t—oh .”

Steve’s cheeks flushed even more. “I mean, not like it didn’t hurt or anything, it did, it definitely did. But…I don’t know, it also felt—kinda nice?”

“….Hm.” Eddie hummed, not sure what else to really say.

They both sat in silence for a bit, before Eddie nudged Steve with his elbow, a grin shadowing his face. “So…masochism, huh?” 

Eddie snickered when Steve hit his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but hard enough to where he could feel the exact spot the punch landed. “You’re proving my point.” Eddie chuckled.

“You’re a dick” Steve huffed. “But uh—”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s space, smirk widening as the distance between them shrank. “You can suck from me any time.” 

Eddie faked a gag, pushing Steve away from him and into the cushion. A hot flush crept quickly up his neck. “ Never say that again.”

Steve sat up, biting back a smile but failing miserably. “My offer still stands.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, painfully aware of how fond he looked. “Thanks.” 

Steve looked at Eddie with an expression that softened him from the inside-out. Eddie heard his pulse jump, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. He glanced briefly at Eddie’s lips, making him wonder if there was still some blood on his mouth.

Steve opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by his stomach, which grumbled loudly.

He blinked and looked up at Eddie. “I guess all that blood-loss worked up my appetite.” He smiled. “Wanna get some real food?”

Eddie rummaged around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper. “I have a 5-dollar coupon for Surfer Boy.”

Steve takes the coupon from him, fingers brushing and sending electricity through his body. He held it up, shaking it gently in the air.

 “Surfer Boy it is.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fanfic

[enviedear]

if you dance i'll dance ⟶ kendall roy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which you let kendall roy take you home. CW ⌙ smut so 18+, kendall x fem!model!reader, mentions of alcohol, poker, the word suicide, age gap (if you squint) WORD COUNT ⌙ 5.0k

i caved, blacked out and wrote a kendall fic. there are so many personal headcanons in here because this man is clay and i am a modern pygmalion

masterlist | join my taglist

you're unabashedly staring at the dark-haired man just a few feet away from you. it’s sly, the way you study him, discerning the jeering look in his eyes and an obvious trace of annoyance in his posture—he looks wildly opposite of how you remembered him.

gone were the blankly formal stares you had become accustomed to seeing him with at events like this, no, now he exuded self-assuredness. he had become wholly—machiavellian.

he's toying with his cuff links, his deep hazel eyes peering over the man talking to him, and straight into your own. in your somewhat inebriated state, you can't help the small smile that works its way onto your face. you enjoy his gaze on you, consuming you a in gentle sense of cardinal obscenity.

really, you should have looked away from him ages ago. the ideas and whispers of the wealthy party-goers were quick to jump to judgment. one wrong move and you'd be labeled; scandalous, unseemly, or, as your sister put it— "wildly inappropriate and bad for the brand".

but you couldn't tear your eyes away. there was an abnormal pull between the two of you, a connection that left the boundaries of reason and social norms. it wasn't the first time you had found yourself caught in his captivating gaze.

in the past, before your departure from your father's company, you indulged each other with subtle glances exchanged during business meetings and corporate events— a few fleeting touches of hands when passing each other documents— an unspoken language that existed only between you, concealed beneath the façade of professionalism.

tonight, after almost two years since seeing him, something was different. he seemed bolder, more daring. the way his eyes lingered on you conveyed a message of desire and longing, impossible to ignore.

you discreetly shift your position, knowing he was aware of the effect he had on you, reveling in the power he held over your senses.

you mull over the past moments of connection, witty banter shared during business negotiations, and the occasional late-night phone calls that blurred the line between professional and personal. it had always been a delicate dance, a game of push and pull.

now though, under the dim lights of the extravagant party, you wondered if it was time to err off your path of caution. the air feels wrought with anticipation, and the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy on you.

you take a sip of your vodka lime and, finally, you let your eyes scan the crowd of people. mostly business partners of your dad's, a few of your brother's old college friends, and a plethora of trophy wives, all huddled around your elder sister.

the woman in question soaks in the attention beautifully, mimicking movements you grew up watching your mother do. she fits in so easily, whether aided by her connections and power or the rather large diamond ring on her finger. you continue to eye her, only to meet her gaze, watching with a soft smile as she excuses herself.

her mauve dress flutters around her ankles as she makes her way over. she looks light, graceful, stern. you can admit she had a notable walk. which is, comical, since you've spent years walking runways— frequently run by tyrannically strict show directors— and yet, she had somehow managed to do it better.

the party continues around you, the opulent setting of your family's estate providing a backdrop of luxury and excess. crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow on the attendees, their laughter and conversations blending into a symphony of privilege and ambition. a world you were born into, but one that has always felt suffocating.

your family relationships are better than most, but always complex. a delicate web of power, dissension, and affection. your father, ever the patriarch, built an empire that you and your siblings were expected to inherit.

to his disdain, the weight of those expectations never fell comfortably on your shoulders.

as your sister approaches you, her presence commands attention. her success is undeniable, and her ambition rivals your father's. she's the embodiment of family legacy, but beneath her polished exterior, you still see the funny little girl you grew up with.

she reaches you, her gaze shifting between you and kendall, her voice carrying a mix of concern and warning. "you know he's trouble, right? kendall roy is not someone you want to get involved with," she peers down at you, "trust me, i've done deals with him."

you feign shock, "what are you talking about?"

a slight eye roll from her, "he's trouble, and you know it— or at least, you should."

you put your arms up in faux surrender, "i don't know. trouble sounds a lot better than standing around here."

"right— because isn't this just the best thing we could be doing on a friday night?" her voice is sweet, with a sarcastic undertone, lips falling into a smirk.

you roll your eyes, but feel thankful for the deflection, "for you? yes. me, no."

she huffs out a small laugh, "you could always network with my socialites."

nodding you reply, "i'm just... not sure the thirty-something wives of infantile rich guys, necessarily, want to hear about my twenty-something nepotism baby spiel."

your sister laughs, smile lines prominent, "fine, yeah. just stop brooding against the wall—" she goes to say something else before stopping, lips slowly down turning into a very polite grimace, "kendall, how nice to see you,"

you take a glance at him— he’s reminiscent of shadow, in his fitted black suit and the general aura of discordance that falls around him. he's a murky mess of a man, and you were well aware. looking quickly back to your sister, you opt to sink back further against the wall and watch the pair.

"yeah, you too," he's smiling at her, but the look in both of their eyes is full of contempt, "congrats, by the way. i heard about the wright deal."

your sister nods, "all in a day's work, and sorry, by the way, for souring your proposal."

he takes the remark, grin growing, "eh…roman's proposal, but still, congrats, really."

she hums a response before looking at you, eyes reflecting an imminent request, "i think it may be time to introduce dad for his speech, hm?"

you shrug, "i mean—i don't work here, why would i present him?"

"because you're his kid." she replies, pressing you once more.

you point into the crowd, "our heir apparent is right there." your brother stands tall amongst his circle, looking as though they were all picked straight out of a business 101 textbook. she gives you a short-lived glare before stepping away, priorities falling back to her aspirational COO position.

now, left alone with the older man, you can finally indulge him. he decides to make a show out of greeting you, taking his time to meet your gaze, before looking down at you with obvious mischief in his vision.

"you know,” he draws out, smiling down at you as though he has you tightly bound around his finger, “i’ve been meaning to, uh, congratulate you, as well.”

you stare at him for a second, trying to decide if his words were earnest or insincere, “yeah? on what?”

his words come out soft this time, but still loud as to be heard over the party around you, “you. you’re— fucking everywhere. i can’t go anywhere in the city without seeing your face.”

you wonder if kendall was aware of the way his words sounded? you’re sure he must. he was audacious, so much so that you questioned how much ego he had left to spare. surely people had already begun taking notice of the two of you, and he had to know they'd talk.

it wasn’t unknown to you that anyone who manages to obtain kendall's presence is often cursed with at least one or two scalding rumors afterward. but, right now, as his words replay in your head, it feels significantly harder to care.

you draw closer to him, “oh, come on... don't tell me you're getting tired of seeing my face?" your tone is teasing—saccharine.

"yeah?" his head shakes in a curt nod, a smirk on his lips, "no, i— obviously wouldn't say that." you quirk your brows up and he continues, "i mean really, fucking, it's deserved. you look good."

"thank you, kendall." you feel brave as you stare into his eyes, enthralled by his mere presence, “you’re a lot sweeter than the google alerts on my phone make you seem.”

kendall smirks at you, "oh, i'm sure i could be much sweeter if given the chance."

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "mhm, is that what you think?"

he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "you could give me a chance to prove it to you?"

you go frigid at the sensation, feeling both excited and apprehensive about whatever he might have in mind.

you feel a wave of excitement wash over, tinged with a hint of fear. you've see kendall roy and his infamous reputation first-hand countless times. you know that if you go with him— it’s a risk. but at the same time, you can't deny the strange pull that he has on you. there's something magnetic about him, something that draws you in and makes you want to take a chance.

you glance around the room, catching glimpses of your family and their friends. so far off from you. none of them would ever understand the thrill of indulging in irreverence. but kendall...he understands. he's bold, and right now, he's offering you a chance to be the same.

hesitating, you slowly nod your head in agreement. "sure," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "let's go."

he flashes you a crooked grin and takes your hand, leading you out of the crowded room and into the cool night air. as you follow him, you feel a sense of excitement building inside you. you have no idea where he's taking you, but you don't care.

you walk side by side with him, the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement providing a steady beat to the anticipation that courses through your veins. the dimmed headlights of his awaiting car cast a soft glow upon the two of you.

you get into the car, falling into a silence— comfortable yet charged. you steal glances at him, trying to decipher the enigmatic allure that surrounds him. there's a darkness in his eyes, a hint of a tumultuous past that has shaped him into the captivating figure he is today.

as the car glides through the city streets, the world outside rushes by in a blur of lights and shadows, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. kendall's presence beside you is both intoxicating and unsettling, and you find yourself questioning your decision to join him on this impulsive escapade.

the silence stretches between you, long with unspoken words and unexplored possibilities. you steal occasional glances at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. his face is a mosaic of contradictions—handsome yet hardened, alluring yet guarded.

finally, unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you break the silence. "so, where are you taking me?"

he glances at you, a hint of amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. "somewhere a little more private," he replies, his voice low and velvety. "somewhere we can talk without prying eyes.” his cryptic response only fuels your intrigue. you lean back against the plush leather seat, contemplating the enigmatic man beside you.

as the car pulls to a stop, and he opens the car door for you. you step out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air brushes against your skin as he leads you towards the building's entrance. inside, a doorman greets you with a nod, recognizing kendall immediately. you follow him into the elevator, the atmosphere brimming with anticipation.

he presses a button for the penthouse floor, and the elevator begins to rise. the doors slide open, revealing a lavish living space bathed in soft lighting. expansive windows offer breathtaking views of the city skyline, and you can't help but be captivated by the luxurious surroundings.

kendall leads you further into the penthouse, passing by a sleek bar stocked with an impressive array of wines and spirits. he gestures towards it, a troublesome glint in his eyes. "want a glass?" he asks.

you nod, "sure, why not?"

he moves behind the bar, pouring two glasses of wine. as he hands you one, your fingers brush against each other, sending an embarrassing shiver down your spine. the air crackles with tension as you take a seat at his dining table.

your ears perk up at the sound of cards being shuffled, and you look up to see kendall dealing them out on the table. "do you play?" he inquires, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

you contemplate him for a moment, your own smirk rising to the surface. "a few times," you reply, curiosity glinting in your eyes. "but why? what are we playing for here?"

he leans back in his chair, his gaze unwavering from yours. "we could make it interesting? a friendly wager to add some excitement?"

your brow rises in question. "what do you have in mind?"

he moves closer, his voice dropped low and sultry. "okay, if i win, you owe me a dance—one song of your choice."

you tilt your head slightly, feigning innocence. "and if i win?"

a sly grin creeps across his face. "then i'll owe you, fucking, whatever you want."

you take a sip of wine, its sweet taste still lingering on your tongue as you lock eyes with him. "deal," you declare with newfound determination.

you watch as kendall expertly shuffles the deck of cards, his fingers moving with a grace that hints at his confidence, you can't help but be drawn further into him. with each card played and every glance exchanged. you find yourself captivated by it all.

“you certainly have built quite a reputation,” you joke, wanting to break his poker face. “they say you are a master manipulator—a cunning strategist. is that true?”

kendall scoffs with smug satisfaction in his eyes. “reputation is such a fickle thing, huh? good press, bad press.” he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “but to answer your question, yes, it’s true. i’m strategic, finding ways to come out on top. i don't like being beat.”

you lean in, intrigued by his confidence. “you're making it sound like it’s a game,” you say, studying the way his eyes light up with a fire that both excites and intimidates you.

“it is a game,” he replies nonchalantly. “it's all a bullshit game, and the only way to win is to play it better than everyone else."

you hesitate, “is that sort of power really worth it?”

he pauses, his expression shifting from smugness to something more thoughtful. “maybe it isn't about the power,” he admits after a moment, “yeah, it's not just about getting ahead—it's about staying ahead of everyone else." he gazes at you intently, and for a moment, you can see why he has earned himself such a reputation.

"i want to be the one in control," he says softly. "i want to be the one making the decisions—the one with the upper hand, all of it."

his words have an unmistakable charm and magnetism. the logical woman inside of you begins to unravel and melt away.

he grins, his eyes never leaving yours. "but what about you?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "what's your strategy?"

you feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his gaze. his words and his presence have a way of making you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

"i don't have a strategy," you reply honestly, feeling a little embarrassed by your lack of direction.

he leans back in his chair again, his face unreadable. "everyone has a strategy," he says. "especially people with dads like ours."

you think about this for a moment, trying to figure out what your own could possibly be. "i guess, doing what's best for me," you say finally. "i left my dad's company for a reason. i don't fit in that world."

his eyes narrow a little as he looks at you. "so is that why you're modeling?" he asks teasingly. "competing for ceo isn't glamorous enough?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his teasing. "no, it's not about glamour," you say firmly. "it's about control over myself, my image, and my identity. things you don't get working at a finance company."

kendall watches you carefully, his expression unreadable. for a moment, you think he might say something sarcastic or dismissive, but he surprises you by nodding slowly, "i can respect that," he says after a moment.

you feel a strange sense of relief wash over you. the conversation with Kendall has been intense, but hearing him say that he respects your decisions and aspirations puts you at ease.

"thank you," you say softly, the tension in your shoulders dissipating. "i know it might not be the most conventional, but it feels right."

he nods again, his gaze never leaving yours. "there's nothing wrong with that," he says, his voice low and velvety. "i mean, again, you're fucking everywhere. almost every damn billboard i see."

you warm at kendall's directness, but you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at the way he looks at you. it's like he sees past all of your insecurities and doubts, straight into the heart of who you are.

"i work hard," you say simply, trying to keep your voice steady even though every nerve in your body is firing with desire. "and i enjoy what i do."

he leans forward slightly, his eyes darkening as they meet yours again. "i can tell."

as the final card is played, you can hardly contain the sheer overlay of thrill on your face. he looks up at you, a sly smile playing on his lips. "looks like luck is on my side tonight," he says, voice laced with triumph.

you cock an eyebrow, but you are elated inside. your plans with kendall are about to become a reality. you slowly stand up from the chair and extend your hand toward kendall. "all right," you say, though you can hear your own anxiety in your voice. "i owe you that dance."

kendall takes your hand in his, an intense jolt of electricity surging through your veins. he leads you into a quiet corner of the room where a record player with a stack of vinyl records sits, their edges tattered and aged by time. you reach for one particular record, its smooth surface familiar beneath your fingertips. julie london's image is frozen on the cover, a beautiful reminder of a forgotten legend.

you turn to him, admiration in your eyes as you hold up the record, "i commend your taste," you say.

he looks surprised, an unexpected vulnerability showing in his expression. "i've never actually listened to it," he admits with curiosity.

insisting on this one, you declare, "well then, this one's perfect."

kendall nods and watches as you start the record, extending his hand toward you. you take it without hesitation, and he pulls you gently to your feet. the music softly plays in the background, its melodic rhythm setting the stage for your impromptu dance.

as you step closer, the world around you seems to fade into the background. it's just the two of you, swaying to the music, locked in an intimate embrace. his touch is electrifying, and you find yourself getting lost in the moment, the now inescapable vying between you growing stronger with each passing second.

when the song comes to an end, you and kendall hold each other for a moment longer, reluctant to let go. the room is filled, shortly, with a charged silence, the air heavy with unspoken words.

the lingering silence is finally broken as the next song begins, and as kendall breaks the embrace, his eyes searching yours. there's a vulnerability in his gaze, a flicker of uncertainty mixed with desire. his voice comes out softer than before, as if he's baring a part of himself that he rarely reveals.

“you know,” he begins, his voice hardened with a cutting edge, “you’ve really worked hard to create this saintly image of yourself, so i'm a little confused as to why you want to ruin it with me.” his assessment hits you like a ton of bricks, the apprehension and fear intensifying as he speaks. But despite the risks looming over you, you can't help but feel drawn to him, knowing that the connection between you two is something extraordinary in a life otherwise full of strife.

a mixture of determination and amusement flashes in your eyes as you meet his gaze,"i doubt you'll ruin anything." you say confidently.

He carefully mulls over your words, his gaze piercing you as if he's trying to unlock the unspoken secrets behind them. A wave of gratefulness and yearning wash over his face before he softly murmurs, "no?" His voice is deep and velvety, laced with a newfound conviction.

"no," you reply softly, eyes low. "i... trust you, and i've wanted this for a long time."

kendall's eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and joy. "you have?" he asks, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

you nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "yeah, i have. but you know— had to keep it professional, right?"

kendall chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "fucking professionalism."

you feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and a rush of excitement courses through you. "oh, and you're saying you wouldn't have cared?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods, his eyes shining with intensity. "no, not it if it's you," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "i'll make new rules for you."

the air between you two crackles with electricity, and without another word, you lean in and kiss him. the kiss is soft at first, but quickly intensifies as the passion between you two builds. you feel his hands on your back, pulling you closer to him.

as the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of surrender. despite knowing that being with him is societal suicide, you can't find it within yourself to care. with a sense of abandon, you let yourself get lost in the moment and in the man in front of you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his. his hands move to your hips, pulling you even closer to him.

you can feel his desire for you, his need for you, and it only fuels the fire within you. now, it's you to deepen the kiss, your tongue exploring his mouth as his hands roam over your body.

the music continues to play softly in the background, adding to the atmosphere of the moment. you feel a sense of freedom and liberation, letting yourself go.

your hands move from his neck to his chest, feeling his heart racing under your touch. you break the kiss, breathing heavy, and look up at him. his eyes are filled with hunger, and you can feel your own want growing.

without a word, he leads you to a nearby couch, laying you down on it as he hovers over you. he starts to kiss your neck, and you can't help the moan that comes out.

his hands move to unzip your dress, as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin. you arch your back, allowing him easier access to your dress. as he pulls it down, revealing your bra, he trails his fingers over your skin, sending jolts of electricity through your body. "you're fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

you reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off and running your hands over his chest. his skin is warm and smooth under your fingertips, and you can feel his muscles tense as you explore his body. "you're not so bad yourself," you whisper, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

he leans down to kiss you again, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. as he pulls it off, he takes a moment to admire you. he leans down to take one into his mouth, and you gasp in pleasure as he teases it with his tongue.

"fuck, kendall," you can't help it— you moan his name, your hands tangled in his hair as he continues to explore your body.

you feel him smile against you before pulling away, “you make the prettiest damn sounds.”

you feel yourself fluster at his words, choosing to hide it by pulling him back toward you. your lips find his again, and you feel his hand begin to sink further down your body.

his hands come to a stop at your hips, fingers drawing circles on the exposed skin. you roll your hips, a weak attempt to release the ache you feel.

“oh come on,” his voice is taunting, “you gotta work for it a little more, sweetheart.”

you huff, eyes finding his own, “is that what you want me to do?”

he breathes, head coming to rest between your thighs, hazel eyes never leaving yours, “i want you… to lay back, and let me taste you.”

he doesn’t wait for you to say anything, instead, he lets his hands fiddle with the hem of your underwear. you squirm at the touch, before leaning down fully onto the couch.

you watch him lower himself to you, leaving chaste kisses on your upper thighs. your hands find their way to his hair, urging him closer.

he peeks up at you, sly smile on his lips, “did you want something? because if so, you need to tell me.”

“you’re a dick,” you say, voice weak as he continues to unwind you. you know what he wants. begging.

your remark, however, neglects to effect him. instead his fingers begin to massage your clit. your eyes grow heavy at the touch, hips rolling to get more friction.

he refuses to speed up, and you reach for his arm, nails digging into his skin, “ken— please.”

his only response is to hook your waistband with his fingers and pull your underwear down, revealing you fully to him. he moves out of your reach, and you hear him take in a sharp breath as he feasts his eyes on you.

“fuck you look so good,” he mutters, voice thick. “so fucking good.”

you don’t have time to respond as you feel him kiss you, his mouth falling on your most sensitive spot. you let out a soft cry, and he takes the opportunity to slide a finger inside you. you move against him, trying to get used to the foreign feeling. but you don’t have long to get used to it, because soon he adds another, and you finally feel yourself relax, letting him in.

you let out a moan of protest when he pulls away, but he just gives you a wicked grin and lowers himself to you again

your hips buck at the feeling, but he shows no intention of stopping. he starts to move his fingers faster, and you can hear yourself moaning his name again and again, your hands gripping the couch beneath you as your eyes roll back.

you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don’t want to come just yet. you reach down, finding him and taking him into your hand. he lets out a sharp breath, before moving his fingers faster.

you start to feel yourself build up again, and you let yourself go; moving against his fingers, against him. you come quietly, your body twisting in pleasure. you’ve barely come down from it, when he reaches up and pulls your face towards his, and kisses you.

you can taste yourself on his breath, and the sound of him unzipping his pants is loud in the silent room. you reach for him, and you can feel him jerk in your hand.

he stares deeply into your eyes, desire blazing in the darkness of his gaze. "do you know how badly i want you?" his voice is strained with longing.

you smile and whisper back, "show me."

he removes his clothing and lowers himself between your legs. you gasp as you feel the length of him press against your thigh. he leans down to kiss you as he slides through your folds inch by inch.

his eyes are locked with yours as he slides down between your legs. you let out a sharp intake of breath as you feel him pressing against your thigh, his arousal evident. his mouth captures yours in a passionate kiss as he gradually moves inside you inch by inch. his movements spark intense waves of pleasure throughout your body, leaving you breathless and helplessly whimpering below him.

he pauses, allowing himself to adjust, before passionately planting a kiss on your lips. his hands carefully lift your legs around his waist, as he pulls you closer. then, without warning, he thrusts deep within you, making your body quiver and shake with pleasure. the room is filled with the sounds of his body colliding with yours, as you both share passionate moans of pleasure.

the sensations ripple throughout your body and you moan into his mouth as he pushes further and further until he's completely embedded within you.

“fuck, honey," he breathes, pulling out slowly and steadying himself before planting a passionate kiss on your lips. he moves your legs up around his waist and pulls you closer, then starts thrusting gently back inside of you. the sound of skin slapping together reverberates around the room, along with your moans of pleasure.

he speeds up, pushing against your walls with each rhythmic thrust. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge as he moves faster and harder inside of you, until finally— your breath catches as an orgasm crashes over you intensely.

kendall's thrusts become sloppy, his head buried into the crook of your neck. with a deep groan, he finds his own climax shortly after yours subsides, breathless from the sheer intensity of it all.

finished, he pulls away gently and wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you into a soft embrace. you press closer to him, both of you silently taking each other in.

you let him peer down at you, as you gaze up at him. he looks softer in the dim light of his living room. he's still a cryptic cynic, no lights can hide that. but the way his hands hold you to him halts your care. you decide then, that you're committed to the risk of him.

#kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x reader smut #kendall roy x you #kendal logan roy #succession #waystar royco

[dulcesiabits]

jumping between worlds, p.3

request: Hiya! I loved your writing about S/o jumping between worlds. Could u possible write that for the vice housewardens as well? (ft. Trey, Ruggie, Jamil, Rook, Lilia).

notes: 1.2k words, headcanons, fluff, housewardens and leech twins versions, Ruggie might not officially be the vice but he is one in my heart

Trey Clover

Trey takes the news that Crowley has discovered a way for you to travel between twisted wonderland and your world in stride. He packs you treats for your trip back home (please share them with the people you love; he’s trying to make a good impression on them!!), and kisses you on the forehead when you leave, reminding you to be careful. He’s always careful to send you off with a smile, even though the truth is, he’s going to miss you terribly when you’re gone, and he’s always going to act just a little off until you’re home. (Don’t worry, Cater has taken enough pictures of a spaced out, clumsy Trey to share with you).

The second you come back, Trey’s already waiting for you by the mirror, opening his arms as you tackle him in a hug. Talk his ear off about what you’ve done, and where you’ve been: he’s curious about your world, and he wants to learn more about it! Especially if he wants to visit it one day... The presents Trey enjoys receiving from you the most are cookbooks and photographs. The way the cuisine in your world differs from twisted wonderland interests him, and he’s looking forward to recreating some of those delicious sweets in your books. As for the photographs? Well, he keeps those taped above his desk so whenever he misses you, he can look at them and think about you.

Ruggie Bucchi

Whenever you leave for your trips back home, Ruggie is draped all over you, head buried in the crook of your neck as he whines about how much he’s going to miss you. How he’s going to survive when you’re gone? You need to give a kiss... or several!... to reassure him. Despite how he acts when you leave, Ruggie’s actually pretty functional while you’re gone. He’s glad you don’t have to choose between either world, and he understands if you have important people back home you miss. Moping won’t make you come home sooner, and he’s still busy juggling school, work, and running errands for Leona.

However, the second you’re due back home, Ruggie is already waiting in front of the mirror. No matter how busy he gets, he’ll always make sure to cram in a free day so he can spend some quality time with you. He’s jumping on you as soon as you’re back, tail wagging wildly, staring at you with puppy dog eyes until you take the hint and kiss him. His favorite present? Food, of course! He can’t get enough of the different types of food back in your world, and no matter how much you pack, it’s always gone before the next day. Ruggie also loves practical gifts, like detergent and shampoo. Bonus points if it’s the same brand you use, so his clothes end up smelling like you.

Jamil Viper

Jamil prefers discreet goodbyes. There’s no need to flaunt your relationship to the entire school, and he’s had to stop Kalim from throwing you a “trip back home” feast multiple times already. A chaste kiss to your cheek, making sure that he’s gotten the date of your return trip right, and a promise to catch you up on anything you miss while you’re gone, and then you’re off, none the wiser to how much Jamil is going to miss you while you’re gone. He acts as if it’s business as usual, but it’s hard, knowing that he can’t call you like he usually does. Internally he’s counting down the days until you’re back.

Whenever you step foot through the mirror, Jamil is waiting with his arms crossed, acting as if he hasn’t been waiting there for half an hour already because he didn’t want to miss you in case you came back early. He takes your hand, offering to hold any bags you brought back with you. Jamil enjoys anything you bring back to him, but he especially enjoys board games or books on dancing you can lend him. You two can play the board games together (it’s hard to win against him when he’s figured out the rules), and he’s interested in seeing if there’s anything unique or different about the dances that developed in your world. Maybe he can pick up a new trick or two.

Rook Hunt

Rook is sure to send you off with a dramatic flourish, lamenting on how much he’s going to miss you, and reminding you that you are his soul, his heart, and that no distance or time could truly separate the two of you. He waves you off with a handkerchief (where did he get that?) and wishes you safe travels home. Honestly, he handles you leaving extremely well. He’s just happy that you’ve found a way to get the both of best worlds (literally and figuratively), and knows that the trip won’t last forever. If you end up getting delayed, though, he might have to step through the mirror into your world himself to pick you up.

Rook senses the moment you step back into twisted wonderland, and no matter what he’s doing, he drops it instantly to greet with you with some flowers, kissing your hand in greeting. He’s subtly scanning you from head to toe, making sure you’re just as healthy as you were when you left. Honestly, any present you gift Rook will have him giving it 100 points. There’s nothing he couldn’t love, though he seems to prefer oddities and antiques the most. Anything that has history and weight to it, or anything that’s unusual and has a function he never expected it to, will please him. If you gift him an old heart locket, he’s definitely going to put your picture in it and carry it around. What can he say? He’s a romantic. 

Lilia Vanrouge

Well, well. Isn’t this interesting? No matter how old he gets, it seems like there’s still so many things he has yet to experience. There’s never a dull moment with you around. Lilia probably takes your leaving the best out of everyone. It’s honestly the best solution, and missing you for a week is better than never seeing you again. He’s used to people coming and going in his life, and it doesn’t even phase him at this point. Of course, you might also be liable to a surprise visit from Lilia back in your world. Just because he takes your trip well, doesn’t mean that he’s not going to miss you. Since he’s already on the other side of the mirror, why don’t you show him around?

When he’s patiently waiting for you to come back home, however, Lilia is liable to try to surprise you whenever you do get back. What’s the fun in just waiting by the mirror? No, he’s going to show up upside down, or pop up from a different mirror behind you. Still, no matter what, he’s going to greet you with “welcome home.” The gifts that Lilia seems to take a particular liking to are either modern accessories or vintage presents. He’s fascinated by how much technology has changed so rapidly, especially in your world, which doesn’t have any magic to affect its growth. And he’s interested in the way history has developed in your time, and Lilia is particularly enamored by an old book of fairy tales you found for him in a second hand book shop.

#liya writes #twisted wonderland #trey clover #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #trey clover x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader

[confessionsofa-roleplayer]

As someone with high-functioning autism and significant social anxiety, which can cause times where social cues are particularly difficult to pick up on especially when it's over a text format where it's even harder to discern tone and inflection without blatant indicators, there's a part of me that doesn't really get all the complaints I've seen about a lack of communication when it comes to "plotting". I mean, I can understand the perspective that it can come across as a partner being unenthusiastic whenever they're given ideas but don't really try to hash those ideas out themselves. On the other hand, it's also possible those same partners could really just be fine with the ideas they're being given and don't really have anything to contribute, maybe they'd rather get right into writing the thread out instead of just shooting ideas back and forth? I know that's usually what I'm thinking most of the time. A good part of the reason why someone like myself would be a little disinclined towards sharing much in return is also because I'd be afraid of taking one too many liberties with someone else's ideas or maybe crossing a line with anything I might contribute. I'm sure we can all agree how quick to take offense people on here can be and, having been on both sides of the fence on this, it can be upsetting both when someone wildly misconstrues things about your muse's characterizations and headcanons just to fit whatever idea they might have in mind, and when having to correct those misconceptions or explain why certain ideas wouldn't work very well. It just creates disappointment all around, and when people aren't willing to talk out any disagreements like adults, all it does it shut down the plotting just the same as giving canned answers. It's also worth considering that some people may be geared creatively different. It can be difficult sometimes to come up with something when you may not know another person's character, or their own particular brand of characterization, very well, and sometimes the ideas just don't come to all of us unless we've really gotten a feel for another person's character and we can see the potential for things. Some people may just be wired more towards improvisational writing at that and really don't start fleshing things out until they have a premise in their hands, coming up with possibilities and exploring them during the actual interactions. Not to mention there's also roleplayers out there who do nothing but plot, and when it comes time to actually write the thread, they simply just don't want to bother with it because… Well, you already know how the story's going to go at this point because you talked it over. Why bother actually having back and forth replies about it when you pretty much wrote the story already by plotting? I've had that experience plenty of times with others myself. You spend all this time laying the framework for where the interactions will go and then nothing just gets done with it beyond the planning phase because, hey, you already talked about everything by now. I just hope that by pointing these things out that everyone might realize they shouldn't generalize partners who may not communicate as much during the "plotting" phase and are just straight to the point, give short affirmative answers when offered ideas. I think the only fair way you can tell if someone really is just putting all the work off on others to come up with ideas is if you can see them repeatedly doing this, especially if they never act on it. That right there would be the surest sign of someone being disinterested or just lazy. Then again, there could also be reasons for this as well, like maybe your characters just don't really have any sort of chemistry for any kind of meaningful interaction – and that's okay too. No two people are always going to get along or want to have anything to do with each other, and sometimes it takes some attempt at communicating to figure that much out.

#communication #confessions

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: fairies

Fey, fae, fairies, faeries - pick your spelling, the fair folk are an undeniably popular trope in fantasy, and can be portrayed in wildly different ways, from cute pixies, to terrifying creatures of lore, to handsome and romantic beings of fairy tales. This list is a wild mix, all of them featuring fae or fae-like beings as central characters.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Borderline (The Arcadia Project trilogy) by Mishell Baker*

Urban fantasy mystery. A year after a failed suicide attempt that cost her both her legs and her film-making career, Millie is recruited by a secretive organisation that works to control traffic to and from Arcadia, the land of faries, and given the assignment of tracking down a missing nobleman of the Seelie Court in Hollywood. Bisexual main character, excellent if you like me enjoy reading about deeply messy women.

Phaeton by Rachel Sharp*

Jack and Rosie, couple and hackers, just got their hands on a brand new device: the phaeton, a phone which, despite its crappy parts, is seemingly capable of doing the impossible. Utilizing their skills, they quickly realize it works not through technology, but by being remotely controlled by a living creature - a fae. This revelation throws them into a war between the fae of old and a new type of fae, able to withstand iron and looking to exploit their fellows through this advantage.

Rosemary and Rue (October Daye series) by Seanan Mcguire

Urban fantasy mystery. October "Toby" Daye is a changeling, half human and half fae, who, after having been burned by both sides of her heritage, has retreated to a "normal" life, away from the faerie world. But the murder of Countess Evening Winterrose pulls Toby back in, a curse forcing her to take on the mystery and find the murderer. While I found the first book a bit weak, the series does get better from there on, with engaging characters and interesting mysteries.

Knife (Faerie Rebels trilogy) by R.J. Anderson

Young adult. Young Knife is a Hunter, providing for a group of faeries living inside an oak, their population slowly dying. Long ago, their people lost almost all their magic, and without it they are doomed. But Knife isn't one to give up; recruiting the help of Paul, a human boy living nearby the faery oak, she is set on discovering the secret of - and solution to - her people's missing magic.

Among Others by Jo Walton

Magical realism. Growing up with a half-crazed mother, Morwenna found solace in two places: reading science fiction novels, and playing with the spirits of Wales alongside her twin sister. But after their mother tried to twist the spirits to her own whims with deadly consequences, Mori is sent off alone to private school, where she attempts to come to terms with what happened. This is less "teen girl on big adventure" and more "what happens after the trauma of adventure", with it being partly left up to the reader whether the fantastical elements are read as real or not.

Gossamer Axe by Gael Baudino

Centuries ago in Ireland, Chairiste Ní Cummen was trained in the secrets of music and magic. But her pride was her downfall, trapping her and her lover in the land of the Sidh. Only Chairiste escaped, hoping to one day win her lover's freedom in musical battle with the fairy that holds her captive. Now she is Christa Cruitare, harp teacher in the modern world and all but resigned to her loss. Until she comes across a great new music: heavy metal. Taking one last chance to win her lover's freedom, Christa sets out to gather other skilled musicians and bring them with her in her final battle.

In the Jaded Grove by Anela Deen

After years of war, pixie soldier Simith is tired of bloodshed and secretly sets up a meeting to discuss peace. But he’s betrayed and forced on the run - right through a door to another world. Meanwhile, Jessa is on her way home when she encounters a man about to be killed, and intervenes to save his life. With that simple act, the fate of the two - and that of the war - become interlinked. While I found the general execution of this one a bit weak, the concept and characters are interesting, and it’s a fun take on the portal fantasy genre.

Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng

Catherine Helstone's brother Laon has traveled to Arcadia, the dangerous land of the Fae, and has since lost contact with her. Worried sick and desperate for news, Catherine embarks on the perilous journey herself, but on arrival she fins herself isolated and in danger of the Queen of the Fae, who is hard on her brother's heel.

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett*

Historical fantasy. Emily Wilde is a professor who prefers the company of faeries, dangerous but bound to rules she can understand, to that of humans, who she finds inexplicable. Working on her faerie encyclopedia, she travels on a research expedition to the faraway Hrafnsvik, hoping for some solitary months of study. Her hopes are dashed when Wendell Bambleby, rival scholar and possible faerie in hiding, arrives on her doorstep. But Wendell's aggravating presence is far from Emily's only problem, as the Hidden Folk of Hrafnsvik turns out to be far more dangerous than expected.

The Watchers by A.M. Shine

Horror. When her car breaks down, Mina tries crossing a forest by foot. As the sun goes down she finds herself lost with something dangerous closing in; at the last second, a woman appears and urges her into a bunker. Inside is a room with a mirrored wall, in which a group of strangers, stranded just like Mina, huddles through the night. Outside in the dark, something malevolent watches them through the glass. Will the group ever be able to escape the forest? While I found the characters somewhat unconvincing, this is a spooky story with fascinating lore.

The Call (Grey Land duology) by Peadar Ó'Guilín

Young adult horror. After having scorned the fae, Nessa's nation has been cursed: every teenager will, at some point, be called into the Grey Land for 3 minutes and 4 seconds before being returned. 9 out of 10 are returned dead. Trying to keep their country alive, children are sent off to training schools to prepare them and better their chances of survival. Her legs having been twisted by polio at a young age, Nessa's chances are worse than most, but she is determined to make it through her call alive.

The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher*

Horror. When her grandmother dies, Mouse takes on the task of clearing out the old woman's home. But as she arrives at her grandmother's home she realizes her mistake: her grandmother was a hoarder, and Mouse has her work cut out for her. As if this wasn't bad enough, among the things left behind Mouse finds her step-grandfather's journal, describing various horrifying encounters. All nonsense, Mouse, assumes - until she starts making her own encounters in the dark forest surrounding the house.

Faebound (Faebound series) by Saara El-Arifi

Elven sisters Yeeren and Lettle have grown up in the shadow of a forever war, one as a soldier and the other as a diviner and teller of prophecy. But when Yeeren makes a fatal mistake and is exiled, the two leave their familiar world for the first time - and end up with the mythical, and believed extinct, fae. Here they must juggle their own loyalties and hearts with political intrigue as they try to find a way to survive and return to their home. While I didn’t personally dig the romantasy vibes of this and found the elves and fae could’ve been more interesting, if you like epic fantasy with heavy romance, both f/f and f/m, you will probably enjoy it.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik*

Historical fantasy with strong fairytale vibes. Miryem's father is a moneylender, but his inability to collect on debts has left his family on the brink of ruin. Desperate and ruthless, Miryem steps in to take his place, and suddenly the family's luck has turned. But Miryem's reputation of being able to turned silver to gold catches the attention of the Staryk King - dangerous creatures who seem made of ice body, mind and heart. In her schemes to survive the King's demands, Miryem's actions ensnare a local farmer's daughter as well as the new wife of the tsar. As their fates are bound together, the three girls may change their land forever, for better or for worse.

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult romance. Isobel is an artist with a particular and dangerous set of clients in the fair folk. The fairies cannot create art on their own, and her portraits are highly coveted. But as she paints a portrait for the autumn prince, Rook, Isobel makes a mistake: she paints human emotion into his eyes. This weakens Rook before the fairy court, and in his fury he spirits Isobel away to stand trial for her crime.

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

In a desperate attempt to win the heart of the beautiful Victoria, Tristran Thorn makes her a promise to fetch the falling star they both saw crash one night. But to do so, he must enter the land of Faerie, where nothing is as it seems, least of all the fallen star, who isn't very keen on being given away as a gift.

Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey*

Young adult. Ellie cares mostly about hanging out with her friend Kevin and pining after her crush Mark, but when a string of grisly murders - all the victims missing their eyes - starts taking place in her town, it’s the start of something ancient and dangerous, as vengeful fairies battle for immortality. Set in New Zeeland and based on Māori mythology.

Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower by Tamsyn Muir

Novella. When Floralinda was first locked in a tower by a witch, princes kept coming to try and save her. But none of them made it past the dragon on the first floor, let alone the monsters after it, and now the supply of willing princes seems to have dried up. Starting to grow desperate, Floralinda captures and makes a deal with a small fairy for it to assist her in escaping the tower.

A note: all these Holly Black books are set in the same universe and do on occasion cross over, but can be read independently.

Tithe (Modern Faerie Tales trilogy) by Holly Black

Young adult. Sixteen-year-old Kade, used to traveling around with her mother's rock band, has just found herself back in her childhood home town. Here she meets up with old acquaintances - not all of them human. For Kade has always been able to see the faeries invisible to most humans. Among them is a handsome faerie knight she finds injured in the woods and chooses to help. In doing this, she becomes embroiled in a struggle between two rivaling and highly dangerous faerie courts.

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

Young adult. Siblings Hazel and Ben live in Fairfold, a strange town where people leave out milk for the fairies and tourists come to look at a fairy prince locked in an enchanted sleep in a glass coffin in the woods. But things have been getting even stranger in Fairfold; the fair folk are getting more agressive, and the glass coffin in the woods gets shattered. As unrest spreads throughout the town, Hazel keeps a secret that may unravel it all.

The Cruel Prince (The Folk of The Air trilogy) by Holly Black

Young adult. When Jude was seven, her parent's were murdered by a spurned faerie lover of her mother's, while she and her sisters were stolen away to be raised at the High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong in this dangerous land. Her struggle is made all the harder by Cardan, handsome faerie prince with a knack for pestering her. As she strives for some semblance of power in this dangerous realm, Jude gets involved with a conspiracy that may change Faerie forever.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

Sinners (The Fae Feast series) by Eka Waterfield

Niavin isn't just a sidh Lord, he's also a drug lord, providing the fae's drug of choice: toxic human pollution.

Lore of the Wilds by Analeigh Sbrana

Romantasy. Lore Alemeyu's village is under ruthless Fae rule, trapped within a forested prison. To protect her village, Lore makes a deal with a Fae lord to organize an enchanted library which only a human can enter.

Black Sun Rising (The Coldfire trilogy) by C.S. Friedman

On a planet far away, a priest, an adept, a sorcerer, and an apprentice are drawn together to fight against the evil fae which preys upon humanity.

That Self-Same Metal (Forge & Fracture Saga) by Brittany N. Williams

Young adult historical fantasy. Joan Sands works as a stagehand for William Shakespeare's acting company. Secretly, she’s also blessed by the Orisha with magical powers, and the ability to see Fae. And lately, the Fae are up to something...

Euphoria Kids by Alison Evans

Three teens - one cursed to sometimes be invisible, one who grew from a seed in the ground, and one who has yet to find his real name - find themselves sharing magic and the ability to speak with dryads and fae.

The Wind City by Simmer Wigmore

Old forces are gathering in Wellington, as the displaced iwi atua of legend reappear and decide to make the city their home, and not all of them mean well.

Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, Faerie Tale by Raymond E. Feist, Malice by Heather Walter, Poison Kiss by Ana Mardoll, Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones

#nella talks books #fairies #i could tag all the books but frankly i can’t be bothered

[norcumii]

Fic title: Non-compliant Weapon (Rexobi, Murderbot AU)

(regarding this fic title meme prompt)

Ok, there’s two ways this could go. One, the slightly more predictable path of some flavor of reincarnation AU where the Jedi Organization (some kind of meddling well-intentioned doctors-without-borders type group) has gotten neck deep into several volatile disputes and need help, so they’ve gotten a generous donation of sec-units from, I dunno, Palpatine Industries (Insidious Industries is more fun, but a little too on the nose). Of course, these sec-units come with pre-programmed sabotage routines up to and including Order 66, and of course sec-unit Rex manages to wriggle around those.

The more interesting idea I had was a bit...messier.

The plunnie starts with the notion that for a full three hot seconds, some megacorp in the galaxy decided that clones were the next big thing and just mass-produced a whole bunch of them. There was enough outcry that the project was scrapped, the company went broke, and the clones were shoved in cryostorage to become someone else’s problem when all the lawsuits were done. Shortly thereafter, sec-units became a thing because that skirted some all the nasty ethical issues.

Decades if not centuries later (...I have no idea when the Murderbot books are supposed to be other than The Future), whatever megacorp bought up various assets discovers they have a bunch of illegal product sitting around frozen in a warehouse. It turns out that the cheapest method of disposal is actually to thaw them and toss them a small agro planet to colonize (the potential fallout if they just space the clones or keep them in a basement somewhere is just too high for profit margins, much to the relief of everyone else).

And that’s how Rex and his brothers end up thawed, with some nice genetic repair work, on a brand new planet all their own, and no idea wtf to do now since they aren’t expected to just fight something. Since Rex is one of the more restless clones, he ends up doing resource management, taking surplus out for trade and scrounging interesting stuff to bring back. And one day he walks into some space!army surplus store to discover in the back there’s an old sec-unit and its cubicle. Rex starts off feeling weird but wildly sympathetic to this deactivated fighting unit, only to become REALLY creeped out when he asks in passing about it – and learns its being kept around for eventual spare parts.

Rex is not okay with this. He dithers a bit, but ends up purchasing the whole unit and brings it home.

Cody gives him a bit of hell, but he gets where Rex was coming from, so he sort of resignedly welcomes their new sec-unit: [some clever punning/l337 speak version of Obi-Wan Kenobi].

So it turns out that this sec-unit is defective. It’s good at fighting, but it doesn’t like to fight. It talks. It talks a LOT. It’s astonishingly good at negotiating.

It also flirts with everyone except for Rex, which Rex is absolutely not put out about in the least. Really. He’s not irked. It’s a good thing. This damn thing comes out of the box flirting, that’s disconcerting so it’s kinda nice that Rex doesn’t have to put up with that – especially since it’s quickly decided that since the sec-unit does talk anything in circles, it’s most useful going with him to help him barter. And hopefully keep him out of trouble, though Cody is the only one to say that, the bastard.

Since this is a Murderbot AU, that means it turns out that there’s actually something Very Valuable on the clones’ new homeplanet, and at some point they’re actively defending themselves and/or having to diplomat with hostile bodies who are Not Impressed that a sec-unit is one of the main negotiators.

(It helps when things go pear-shaped, of course, since said main negotiator can dish out and take some extreme damage. So that's not too different from canon.)

Things finally settle down, Rex and Obi-Wan return to venturing out on the regular, until one day – probably after some spectacularly vicious flirtation with someone trying to kill them – Rex just blurts out, “I have never been able to figure it out. You will flirt with anyone and anything, the more hostile the better.”

“It’s a wonderful distraction tactic.”

“Oh, I’m aware. You specifically pick out pet names to enrage people.”

“It’s hardly my fault the Duchess didn’t like to be addressed as ‘my dear’!”

“It kind of is, but…” Rex hesitates, then shrugs, still not looking at Kenobi. “You have never once flirted with me.”

Silence. Rex sneaks a few glances, and Obi-Wan is refusing to look back at him. Finally, when it’s clear Rex will play the waiting game, Obi-Wan just shrugs right back. “I don’t know how to do it sincerely. Flirt for real with someone I like.”

Rex goes through several stages of oh with embarrassing speed. He twists around to stare. “What – but – even from the very beginning?”

Obi-Wan continues to not look at him. “I might have been...less unaware than my prior owner believed.”

Rex blanches, well recalling his own long time in stasis – a cold, mostly dreamless state of unconsciousness. The notion of being even somewhat lucid across those long decades is nightmare fuel even before considering the indifferent way the guy at the store had talked about spare parts in a box.

Then there are super-awkward cuddles, eventually leading to some kind of queer platonic aro and/or ace ship happily ever after. ^_^

Thank you, this was a fun challenge!

#meme #fic title meme #shadowmaat #made of awesome and win #star wars #murderbot fusion #fic ideas #plunnie available to a good home #rex/obi #and that's all the prompts I got #thanks for playing!

[lumosandnoxwriting]

he loves me not || Fred Weasley

Title: he loves me not Pairing: Fred x Reader Warnings: talking about periods/breast development. Fred is kind of a shit head.   Summary: my friends from home don’t know what to say A/N: here it is, the next part in the anthology!! Honestly i actually really love this one even though the structure of the storytelling changed as i wrote, i feel like this ended up just how i imagined it!

Fred is the last person she expected to be standing there when she walked into her favorite bar after the world’s longest day at work.

Y/N does a double take, her steps faltering as she watches him laugh. His head tips back, exposing a pale stretch of skin that she used to imagine pressing her lips to as she daydreamed about what her future might look like. Now it just makes her sick to think about. 

He notices her then, his hooded eyes opening wide as they stare at each other across the crowded room. His gaze keeps Y/N rooted to the ground, forcing the people coming in to step around her. Fred seems just as shocked to see her, and his friends start to nudge him, noticing the strange look on his face. 

Less than twenty feet separates Y/N from the person she used to know best in this world. The person she’d thought would always be by her side, who’d follow her no matter the path life steered them down. Her best friend in the entire world. 

Now they’re just two strangers, staring at each other in a bar. 

How the hell did they end up here?

-

Summertime always smells like freshly cut grass and the lemonade Mrs. Weasley seems to be constantly stirring up to refuel the brood of kids that flit in and out of her house all day - and there is no place in the world Y/N would rather be. 

She’s wading through the creek in the Weasley’s backyard, her brand new sneakers so thoroughly soaked and muddy she can practically hear the way her mum will yell when she gets home. But she doesn’t even care about the trouble she’s sure to be in, not when Fred is by her side, laughing wildly as they chase frogs and small fish through the shallow water. 

When the school year ended last month Y/N was afraid that this summer would be different than the others. Because when they started Year 8 in September she thought it would be like any other school year - but boy had she been wrong about that. 

It seemed overnight all of the girls in their year stopped looking at boys as friends and started to look at them as something more. Crushes is the word they’d used. In between lessons and during lunch girls would crowd around each other, watching the boys with rose tinted cheeks as they whispered about who they thought was cute and who would make the best boyfriend. 

Y/N sat with them more out of obligation than anything, since she’d much rather be goofing off with Fred and George and whatever other male classmates decided to join in their games. So instead of playing with her friends she’d sit there and nod along as they whispered about Fred’s eyes and George’s hair and Thomas’ smile, all while the only thing Y/N was thinking about was how things had changed. 

Year 8 also brought a lot of personal changes in Y/N’s life. 

Suddenly the elastic on the soft cotton training bras her Mum had purchased before Year 6 was digging into her sides hard enough to leave deep red marks on her skin, and at one point she could barely get them over her chest. She’d had to upgrade to an actual real bra before school even began, and by the Christmas holiday she’d already needed to change size twice. 

And that year Santa didn’t just bring her a few bras for her newly grown breasts, but it seems her period was packed away under the tree as well. What she thought was a stomach ache leading up to Christmas Day evidently turned out to be the arrival of her so called “womanhood” if the blood staining her Christmas PJs was any indication. 

She spent the week between Christmas and New Years carefully waddling around, afraid that too much movement would cause the pad stuck to her underwear to slip and she’d end up bleeding all over herself. 

When school started up again in January she no longer knew where she belonged. On one hand she still wanted to be out there with Fred, running amuck and causing trouble when the teacher wasn’t looking. But on the other hand she didn’t quite fit in with the girls in her class either - even if she agreed with Marci Joe that Fred is by far the cutest boy in their Year. 

So when school got out for the summer, Y/N had worried that things would be different. Worried that Fred would look at her like the other boys seem to now, that instead of seeing Y/N the girl they grew up playing with they’d see Y/N, the girl who’s boobs they like to stare at. (Even if deep down Y/N really did hope that Fred had noticed her boobs at least a little bit.)

And okay maybe things are a little different. 

Like how her cheeks heat up when Fred grabs her hand to help keep her balance as they jump from rock to rock through the creek. And how sometimes she can feel her tummy flip upside down when Fred laughs at something she’s said. And maybe, just maybe, her smile was a little bit too big and she felt a little too proud when Fred turned down Marci Jo’s invitation to the movies to grab some ice cream with Y/N instead. 

But none of that matters as long as Fred is still her very best friend. (Even if Y/N hopes in her little heart that someday he might be more than that too.)

-

“Hey.”

Y/N’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, and she prays the flush on her cheeks isn’t obvious as she slams her journal shut. She knows there’s no way Fred would be able to read what she’s writing from where he leans against the entrance to her room, but just the thought of him recognizing the scrawl of his name with little hearts doodled by it is embarrassing enough to have her shoving the book under her pillow for good measure. 

“What are you doing here?”

The smile that appears on his face causes a surge of butterflies to rock through Y/N’s stomach, and she practically holds her breath as he steps further into her room. 

“Is that any way to greet your best friend?” Fred teases. 

His easy going demeanor instantly soothes her nerves in a way that only Fred ever seems to be able to, and she rolls his eyes at him. 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. Molly said you and George were spending the night at Thomas’ when I called earlier, I was just surprised to see you here, that’s all.”

Fred waggles his eyebrows at her as he takes a seat on the end of Y/N’s bed. “You called the house looking for me? Y/N I’m blushing.”

Y/N leans over to punch Fred on the arm, desperately trying to cover up the giddy feeling she gets from Fred being here in her room. 

Because of course Fred is her best friend in the entire world and he has been since they were four years old. But at some point in the last twelve years she’s started to look at Fred in a different way, and in the last few months she’s decided to stop lying to herself. 

Fred will always be her best friend, but she’s no longer afraid to admit that she wishes someday he’d be more than that too. 

She remembers thinking how it seemed like a switch flipped overnight when all the girls in their year stopped looking at boys as friends and started having crushes on them, and now it seems another switch has flipped and suddenly everyone now has boyfriends.

Well, everyone except Y/N.

And it’s not like boys haven’t been interested in her. There was Thomas and Lee, and even Danny in the Year above. Turns out once boys grow out of that immature phase where they call boobs flower buds and laugh as they jiggle awkwardly during gym class, they’ll do just about anything to sneak a peek at them. 

But when Thomas and Lee had asked, Y/N didn’t even hesitate when she shot them down - giving them both a generic excuse that they’d been friends for too long for her to see them any other way. She’d thought about saying yes to Danny, mainly because at sixteen she’s the only girl in her year who hasn’t been kissed outside of a round of truth or dare or spin the bottle. But then Fred had invited her over to watch a Star Wars marathon and by the time Y/N decided to circle back to the raincheck she’d asked Danny for, he was already dating a girl in his Year. 

And it’s not even as if she really wanted to date Danny. It just felt nice to have someone see her as more than just a friend. It felt nice to feel pretty and feminine. To be noticed. 

Even if she wasn’t noticed by the boy whose attention she really craves. 

“So you never answered my question,” Y/N starts after a few moments of silence. “What are you doing here?”

The wicked grin she gets as a response tells her everything she needs to know.

-

They’re at the party for an hour before Y/N loses Fred in the crowd. She’s feeling loose from the lukewarm beer and shots that tasted more like ethanol than vodka, and somewhere in the back of her mind she had the hope that tonight would be the night. 

Their night. 

Sober Y/N is not brave enough to take that next step to push them past the friendship stage, but drunk Y/N is ready, willing and eager to take one for the team. It doesn’t help that Fred had been so sweet and attentive since the moment they arrived at Thomas’. The party was already in full swing, and Fred had held her hand tight as they weaved through the crowd. Every drink she consumed had been given by Fred, each one handed off with a wink and a promise that he’d always take care of her. 

Like an idiot she’d let go of his hand, trying to shout over the music that she was going to run to the loo and Fred should wait right there. And to no one’s surprise when she finally found the spot where she left him twenty minutes later, Fred was nowhere to be found. She’d searched the ground floor and the first floor already, and as she stumbles down the stairs into the basement Y/N is sure she’ll find Fred hanging out on a couch ready with some stupid joke about how she finally found his hiding space. 

What she doesn’t expect to find is Fred sitting on a couch with Marci Jo, his arms around her waist as they attempt to suck each other’s faces off. She’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the heartbreak that makes her stomach turn, but suddenly the only thought on her mind is getting the hell out of there as soon as possible. 

Turns out tonight was the night. Just not their night. 

-

Things haven’t been the same since the party. 

Fred had been everything to Y/N, and now she could barely stand to look at him. It wasn’t just that he’d broken her heart that night, it was that he completely changed after that night. It was no longer just Fred whenever they hung out, it was Fred and Marci Jo. She didn’t even know Fred gave a second thought about Marci Jo, and suddenly she was taking over every aspect of Fred’s life. 

Trips to the park, to get ice cream, movie nights at the Weasley’s - anything that Y/N and Fred used to do together now had to include Marci Jo. And Y/N wouldn’t mind her tagging along as much if they weren’t so absorbed in their own little bubble to notice her existence. Too many times she’d left their hangouts early, the two of them too busy making out or whispering to each other to even notice Y/N had gone home.

Losing Fred as a potential romantic partner had been sad, and she shed many tears over that lost possibility. But losing Fred as a best friend had been absolutely devastating. Fred had been the one constant in Y/N’s life, and suddenly without him there she had no idea what she was doing anymore. 

“Hey stranger.”

Y/N looks up from the fire, giving Fred a nod. “Fred.”

Today was their last day of college, and of course Thomas had to throw a huge party to celebrate. Y/N hadn’t even wanted to go, she’d planned on spending the night up in her room, writing until she finally felt exhausted enough to fall asleep. But this would probably be the last time all of them would be together, before University and adult life took over, and some yearning for the way things used to be coaxed her out of the house tonight. 

“That’s how you greet your best friend?” he teases, taking a seat next to Y/N on the bench. 

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Okay, sure.”

They’re silent, both of them focused on the way the flames dance to avoid having to look at each other. It’s been a little over a year since they’ve been alone together, and Y/N feels a pang in her chest at how awkward it is to be sitting with Fred, when it used to be as natural as breathing.  

Fred is the one who breaks the silence. 

“I overheard my Mum talking with yours’ on the phone this morning. London, eh?”

Y/N shivers as he bumps their shoulders together. “Yeah. I leave for my summer program next week.”

“Wow, already?” he blows out a breath. “I can’t imagine this place without you, but I always knew if anyone could make it out of this shithole, it’d be you.”

“Oh fuck off,” she blurts out, shocking them both. Even with them drifting apart Y/N has never been anything but polite with Fred during their short interactions so the anger in her voice is a surprise. But she lets it build, too tired of pretending that she’s okay with what happened between them. 

“The only reason I ever thought about sticking around is you, you moron. You love this stupid shithole too much to ever even dream of doing something else with your life. And even though I never had the same dreams as you, my need to leave never outweighed my need to have you in my life. But now I can’t wait to get the hell out of here, and please don’t pretend that you’ll be shedding a tear over my absence.”

“Don’t do this,” Fred seethes, tearing his eyes away from the fire so he can look at the one brewing in Y/N’s eyes. “You’re the one who pulled away, don’t put this on me.”

“And you’re the one who kissed Marci Jo and blew everything up! My heart used to beat for you Fred Weasley, and everyone in this town knew it except, apparently, for you.” She stands up then, the yearning for nostalgia that brought her out tonight fading fast. “You prioritized getting your dick wet over our friendship, so do not blame me for pulling away. Have a nice life, Fred.”

Y/N ignores his calls of her name as she storms away, letting everything she��s lost go with every step away she takes.

-

Her editor told her not to do it. So did her agent. And her Mother. 

But as she stands in the middle of a busy bookstore, seeing her debut novel sitting on a shelf for the very first time, Y/N does not feel an ounce of regret as she takes a copy into her hand and flips to the dedication page.

Fuck you, Fred Weasley - you know what you did.

-

Y/N can tell the moment Fred decides he’s going to approach her. Even though it’s been years since they last spoke she can still read him like a book, and his thoughts are written across his face in the look he’s giving her.

Watching him take a step towards her breaks Y/N of whatever trance she’d been in, giving her the forethought to step out of the entryway and over to the wall. Whatever conversation she and Fred are about to have shouldn’t be taking place as people shove past them to enter or exit the pub. 

The smile on Fred’s face as he approaches is cautious, and Y/N silently wishes she’d at least had the chance to grab a drink before this confrontation. She has a feeling she’ll need it. 

“Hey stranger,” Fred greets, knuckles white from how hard he grips the bottle in his hand.

Y/N nods in greeting. “Fred.”

“That how you greet all of your best friends that you haven’t seen in a while?” he attempts to joke, a fleeting smile on his lips. When Y/N does nothing in response but quirk an eyebrow, he lets out a nervous chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “Just not sure I’d describe us as best friends.”

“Really?” Fred asks, but the tone in his voice suggests he’s anything but surprised at her rejection. 

Yes really, Y/N wants to spit back. There’s an anger bubbling in her stomach, a feeling she hasn’t felt in the longest time. A feeling she thought she’d gotten over in the years it’s been since she left her hometown and all of the people in it behind. But it roars back to life, so full of life that she thinks it may have never been dormant. 

“Yeah.”

She stopped thinking of Fred Weasley as her best friend a long time ago. 

“Guess I deserve that,” Fred admits after a moment of silence. “And I’m not really that surprised considering you dedicated your first book to telling me to fuck off in front of the entire world.”

Y/N snorts a laugh. “Yeah, well. You deserved that too.”

They both just stand there in silence, and while Y/N feels nothing she can tell Fred feels awkward. His jaw twitches, a telltale sign that he’s trying to figure out what to say next. She lets him struggle for another minute before giving him a brief nod. 

“Well then. It was,” she hesitates, not wanting to say that it was good to see him again. Because it wasn’t. Y/N could have gone the rest of her life, fully content with never seeing or hearing from Fred Weasley again. “Have a good rest of your night.”

Fred’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something else, but after it hangs there for a few beats he snaps it shut again. With another curt nod Y/N joins the stream of people heading towards the bar, finding that walking away from Fred Weasley the second time is just as easy as it was the first time. 

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #harry potter #golden #fw #fred weasley fic

[trekkele]

How famous is the Wayne name? Citywide, statewide, countrywide or worldwide? Maybe two different answers depending on if they know about Bruce in a Kardashian way or if they could recognize him if they saw him across the street?

Ok actually i love this question because it highlights something that changed a lot in regards to how we think about socialites, famous people who are famous for being famous, and rich people.

When Bruce was originally written as a playboy, socialites were people famous for being famous and pretty and rich, yes, but the lack of privacy they have today? Modern paparazzi culture, the stalking, the instant recognition, all that? Didn’t exist. Making him a shallow playboy in the society papers meant he would have to show up somewhere to be photographed maybe twice a month, have a date to an event, maybe give an interview about a pet project once a year. Pictures?? There’d be official photographers at events and maybe someone would try to catch him leaving WE after work, but even thats a stretch.

Even now actually theres an entire culture of socialites that i have no access to but i know exist because i keep seeing conversations about their debutant ball in Paris (which. What???) but i could not pick those kids out of a lineup if i wanted too.

Which is to say, Bruces “playboy persona” is based on a concept that barely exists in the same way! Brucie wasnt a Kardashian he was a Duke with 10000 pounds a year and pretty face.

So to actually answer your question, I think the Wayne name is about as famous as Bezos, but mostly because its on the building (and the phones and computers and cars and medical equipment and whatever else WE makes. Thats some solid branding).

I think the Bruce Wayne name has a wildly different reputation inside Gotham (beloved son, philanthropist willing to throw money at his city with a smile, a little dumb but hes got the spirit) and outside of Gotham (pretty-boy himbo from Jersey that owns that company that does everything and fights with Luthor on twitter).

Wether he’s recognizable on sight really depends on the person who sees him - i (unfortunately) have a decent amount of recognition with the Kardashians, but if i passed one casually dressed on the street would i recognize them? And if i did, would i bother them while they were getting coffee? I think Bruce has been told to his face that he looks like “that sad orphan kid but shorter”. He thought it was funny.

Either way hats and sunglasses and hoodies are a bats best friend.

Also i think the paparazzi hounded Bruce to the point where they were blamed for his initial disappearance from Gotham but thats neither here nor there

#so no the batKIDS dont have public recognition at all #to the point where if theres a kid near Bruce everyone just assumes its one of his #its worked so far! #asks #60s bruce had a way easier time with brucie i think

[hulloitsdani]

Okay so the idea of a Kiran and Grima friendship dynamic is honestly one of my favorites in FEH.

Grima as a character was always intriguing to me, but he only became downright fascinating in retrospect of FE: Echoes. Seeing where he came from made his rather two dimensional villainy in Awakening gain a surprising amount of perspective and depth. This is a creature made purely out of a man’s insane hubris and was cursed to walk this earth for thousands of years as a result. He’s essentially Fire Emblem’s version of Frankenstein’s monster. This gave Awakening’s nature vs nurture narrative a significantly more fascinating base to stand on. Made it a bit more character driven, as you can begin to see why Grima holds the perspective that he does. However, there has yet to be a proper scenario in which we get to sit with him and explore the ideas that promises.

Which is exactly why I love the idea of Grima and Kiran. I do not think their dynamic should be dedicated to redeeming Grima via the power of friendship, as that’s more Awakening and Chrom’s brand. But rather, I think Grima getting summoned to Askr would shift the focus of nature vs nurture away from Robin and onto Grima himself. Robin got the chance to question this via their amnesia and now Grima gets to question this via this second start in a world wildly different from the one he walked for lifetimes. And Kiran acts as the off putting yet well meaning embodiment for what that could possibly mean. They are a weird, pitifully weak creature who has somehow succeeded where the scientist that made him and no doubt countless others after him have failed: They have the capacity to control Grima. This automatically means Grima has no intention to let them live for long, but they hardly have the same goals as those ambitious fools. Outside the demands of every conflict the Order finds itself caught up in, Kiran only uses their power to have interesting conversations with weird company. And when I say “use their power” I mean have tea with malicious dragon deity without loosing their head.

It’s hardly enough to get him to stop him from plotting a murder, as it’s only a matter of time before this goes south in his eyes. But it’s… intriguing to see such a comparably unmotivated individual in a position of such extreme power. The piqued curiosity leads to a the formation of a genuine bond as Mr. Wings of Despair Breath of Ruin realizes, “oh shit, I’ve encountered a being I don’t want immediately dead” and has a major existential crisis about it. It’s adjacent to Power and Nyaako from Chainsaw Man, but instead of a cat is Grima is watching this chaotic tactician earnestly fumble their way through this position thrusted upon them. And despite the light years of difference between the both of them, these two come to an understanding of one another that isn’t quite feasible by anyone else.

Meanwhile cut to the outside looking in perspective and this all looks downright insane. Kiran has befriended Fire Emblem satan. Has tea with him sometimes. It’s chill. Don’t worry about it. They say to Alfonse, who is realizing there is something not quite hinged about his tactician. Anna is crying because how the FUCK are they going to house a dragon the size of a mountain range. Sharena has been making cookies to go with the tea to give to the god of ruin this whole time.

#feh Ted talk #Sponsored by the illness #I should note that Awakening is my favorite FE game #baby’s first FE game #changed my brain chemistry #Even though Radiant Dawn is hands down the best one #I’m so so biased

[eldritch-spouse]

Brenti may be an abomination but he’s SO interesting as a character. I love that we get to ask the questions you’ve already answered about breg and santi and get different answers. What kind of yandere is he? What’s his personality like? How does he meet the reader?

[Christ, hold on hold on-]

What type of yandere is he?

Brenti is just as delusional as Breg is, but instead of being oblivious and relying on cheesy depictions of love made by humans, he adopts Hell's models of love and relationships. Which can be brutally different.

Neither Breg nor Santi are very bright, but Santi has a certain type of street smarts and cunning Breg lacks, and Brenti retains that. What ends up happening is that Brenti passes as a poor ignorant monster that doesn't know much about civilized human living, when he's in fact much more informed than he lets on and is passing himself off that way deliberately to lower your guard.

He can be seen as a dedicated, openly perverted, confident yandere. However, Brenti ends up coming off as if his intentions are a lot more nefarious than they actually are, and he handicaps you early on.

Brenti's ideas of flattery and courtship are a lot more depraved than you're ready for. He has less tact than Santi, so he truly believes telling you how hard you make him and that he'd fill you everyday are genuine, wholesome displays of love and you'll be charmed by him. He's definitely the type to give you "tributes".

How do you meet him?

He's not a fugitive from a breeder facility, and he was conceived (more like cursed to existence) in Hell, but he's been in and out of the surface ever since adulthood- Although he never truly adapted to it, in spite of his fascination. Brenti is in love with certain aspects of human living, and he wants to add a filthy little twist to them, which society won't allow. So he ends up being inappropriate in his half-hearted attempts to fit in, resulting in him getting shunned out of various locations, rinse and repeat until he stumbles upon your general living area.

A lot of things can spark Brenti's infatuation. Maybe a mix of delicious-smelling lust and a genuine desire to help him when he seems lost, he finds you irresistible, immediately expending as much magic as he needs to keep you enraptured with him for as long as he can milk the encounter. It's utterly obvious early on that he's salivating after you, and though his charm is clumsy from overexcitement, Brenti manages to basically steal an entire evening with you.

Cumbrain that he is, he was thinking of fucking you in the nearest convenient surface, but that's gotten him in trouble way too many times, and he's determined to not be driven away from you too easily. It physically pains him to end the encounter without even getting his fingers on you, and he's going to need to relieve himself, but that's a step in the right direction. Unfortunately, everything else goes downhill.

See, much like Breg, this loser creeps into your living space far too easily. Except these episodes are now a lot more detrimental to you. The first thing Brenti does is slap his mark on your body. You may wake up with the pain of it being branded onto your mons, but unfortunately, your face is being pressed hard to the pillow, masking your startled scream as a monster much stronger than you keeps you still with his weight, gently shushing you and grinding two dribbling cocks on your ass. Blunt force makes you pass out.

Maybe you know what the faded thing in your lower half is, maybe you don't, but it's there now. You've already lost.

Every night after that one is spent having wildly erotic dreams while Brenti trains your unconscious body to respond to him, just like it should. He rubs his own seed on your skin before he leaves, causing you to wake up in the middle of the night in fits of feverish lust, longing for something very specific but not being able to place what. You spend your days in a state of bothersome sexual frustration, to the point where it'll start getting in the way of your routines and causing you to lose functionality.

Brenti starts showing up more often around you when you're practically dripping senselessly with desire. It's only a matter of time until you invite him over, he believes.

You'll realize how you've been betrayed when you see the faint mark on your mons become more pronounced the moment you come around his cock, looking up at the blissed out face of the monster who's to blame for all of this...

Personality

While still somewhat socially awkward, the concubus side will translate that demeanor into an oftentimes charming quality of his.

Brenti has his moments of total charm and temptation, but they're not a constant act like Santi's. In fact, he's a lot more genuine than most concubi, which is something you may end up valuing in the long run, even if it means you're often privy to information you don't want.

In a strange way, he's more open to sharing you than Breg ever was but not to Santi's degree. Brenti only has eyes for you, he craves to pleasure you in every way possible, so he's surprisingly okay with letting others worship you. But only that. He's always in control of these encounters and doesn't really seek to fuck the other person, he's more focused on making sure they get you to cum your brains out.

#Brenti oc

[not-alien-girl-v]

I am BEGGING for a part two to the George fic, please please PLEASE let her have happiness with matty have we not suffered enough???

Everything I Didn't Say (Matty Healy)

Part 1 is right here read it first

Warning: idk

Note: i have 2 active crushes rn this is so upsetting i feel like a 13 year old girl writing in my diary

2.1k

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Hesitantly, she approaches Matty, no idea of what is next to come.

He seems equally unsure. Hands grasping at nothing by his sides, clenching, unclenching, folding up lightly then releasing. He looks over her shoulder, at Ross and Adam, looking close to opening a bag of popcorn, anticipating every next movement from the two before them.

Not today, not now, Matty thinks to himself, and gives the boys a look that is easily translated to 'head out now, lads.' They understand, a bit disappointed, as the both of them have been waiting on something to happen with the dreaded love triangle for as long as its existed. They had to endure every painful moment with them, and now they can't be present for the grand finale?

Alas, this was their friends lives, not a TV show they've been binge watching for years on end, so they file out of the room without a word, trying to go unnoticed, not bothering either of the people left standing there, staring at each other with pained expressions.

"So," she starts, though she feels as though Matty has more to say to her than she does to him at this point. It's a complicated thing they have going here. She just witnessed the years-long crush dissolve into vapor right before her eyes in a millisecond, only to find out Matty has been equally as pathetic, perhaps even more so, about her as she has been this whole time.

Does she see him like that? She doesn't not see him like that. To be honest, all 4 of the boys she calls her best friends are all wildly attractive, it makes her wonder how she ended up having a crush on George in the first place. Why not anyone else?

The simple truth is that upon meeting the boys, she was a bit starstruck just by the sight of them. Adam was quiet, distanced in a friendly manner, not one that spoke 'I don't like you' to her, but just in the matter that that's the way he is as a person. She observed him closely for a while. He's like this with everyone else he knows, minus his long-term girlfriend, Carly, which is the main reason Adam wasn't the one to catch her eyes in a romantic sense in the beginning.

Ross was gentle, kind, funny, but more than that, he was an amazing friend, and perhaps if he had gotten close enough to her as George did in a platonic sense, he could have easily caught her attention.

And Matty was a mess. Still is. Probably always will be. He's loud, he's warm, for lack of better words, he's welcoming. But he was also messy. That's not to say she didn't care deeply for him. She loved him more than life itself. In all the times George turned inexplicably sour, Matty was always there, sweet as ever.

She hates that when she thinks of Matty, the first word that comes to mind is 'messy.' But it's the whole truth. He's never kept a solid relationship for more than about 2 weeks, and he always seems to leave a branding mark on the women he surrounds himself with in a romantic sense. Branded, burning, on fire.

It scared her more than she liked to admit. She tried not to think about herself in a different timeline, having been dating Matty for years now, letting him do unforgivable things and then forgiving him each time in the name of 'love.'

When she met George, he was single, approachable, and all over her. It didn't take long for feelings to arise. He didn't scare her like Matty, wasn't aloof like Adam, and seemed to pay closer attention to her than Ross.

But it's all out the window now. Out the door, into a car, down the street, and far, far away.

What remains is Matty, eyes dripping with pain, love, infatuation, and some tears in the mix as well. He could never help but cry at the slightest sign of emotion.

"Y/N." He says it plainly, like he doesn't plan on elaborating, but she wishes to any higher power that he does. She's unsure about how to go about this, and she can't do it alone, without his help.

When she waits a moment and he actually doesn't continue, she sprouts conversation from her mouth, "you like me."

"I love you."

Whatever words she had stored in her throat are gone now.

"Listen to me, okay? If you don't feel the same, if you don't feel for me in the way I do you, I won't be mad. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. If I could change things, I swear to you, I would. But I had to say what I did, I couldn't continue biting my tongue about you, you just make me so-"

"Crazy?" She jokes, quietly, feeling smaller than a mouse. She wishes she had some magic way to regain enough confidence for this conversation.

"I was going to say 'passionate'. But sure, crazy works too. I did mean it though, everything I said. I have loved you for longer than I can remember, and I am so sorry I waited so long to tell you. I'm sorry things ended up like they did, like they are, it's no fair to you and you don't deserve any of this and it's all my fault and-"

"Stop," there it is, that hint of confidence on her tongue, charging behind her teeth where she lays her words to rest.

"What?"

"Stop that. Apologizing. None of this is your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."

They're still standing face to face in the kitchen, about 2 or 3 feet away.

"What do you want to do now? It's your choice, love, not mine, I won't force you into anything, ever. If you want to forget about this, forget I ever said anything, pretend nothing ever happened? That's okay. I'll do whatever you want me to."

She looks around the room, feeling heavy. "I want to sit down. With you. Talk about this." He nods, and walks over to the table, pulling out a chair that she expects him to sit in, but he looks at her, waiting, and she comes to realize it's for her. "Thanks."

He takes a seat opposite her at the table. He has no words, only gazing, impatient eyes, ready to drink any and every word she has to tell him. Hopelessly devoted. Deeply in love. How did she never notice this before? The way he looks at her, heavy and pained.

"I love you, Matty. I'm scared. You scare me."

"What have I done, darling? Was it when I hit George, said all those awful things to him, because I swear to you, no matter what happens in our future, I would never, never treat you in such a way."

She shakes her head, eyes down at the table. "No. It's not that. It's... it's hard to explain. The woman who have loved you, the ones who you give your love to, they're never satisfied with you. Never happy, never for long. Why? Because it's a problem I've noticed, and it scares me. To be one of those women, forever changed, I'm scared."

He purses his lips, finally breaking his longing gaze to look down at his fiddling fingers resting together on the table. He aches to take her into him, just a sliver of her, a tiny piece into his hands to hold on to. He knows better, though.

"I suppose you deserve the entire truth, everything I didn't say."

He breathes in like he's about to give a heartfelt speech, and maybe it's not far from the truth.

"The issue has always been you. I'm not blaming you for anything, this is not your fault, it's mine. Completely mine. I've felt so deeply for you for so long, and you've always been out of my reach, far away from me, so I tried to move on. To something else, somebody else, and it never worked out. Fuck, nobody wants to date a guy who's too pathetically into his best friend to maintain a meaningful relationship with anyone else. It's you. It's always been you."

"I'll admit, I've done wrong by too many women due to this. I've let some get too close to me, closer than they should have been for their own benefit, because after a given amount of time, they all came to understand me, see me for who I really was, my motives for everything, and they never liked what they found."

"So it really was me? Through everything?" She steals a glance at his handsome face, coming to find him looking up at her again.

"Of course. It always will be, I'm afraid. But I'm sorry for causing you to think of me so lowly. If I had a way to tell you about all of this before, I would have done it."

She smiles, without much happiness or joy, almost in sorrow, pained to see how much he's hurting over this. "What did I say about apologizing?"

He smiles back, but is at a loss for words now. There it is, the world's most awkward silences. How is she supposed to move on from this?

After too long of neither saying anything, he speaks up, voice shaking, and she can tell the tears are streaming down his face. It stabs her roughly, she wants to wipe them away and hold onto him tightly and tell him everything will be okay and-

"I don't think we should be friends anymore."

"Wait, what?" She is so shocked, she feels as though her jaw is on the literal floor.

"I know I said I wouldn't be mad, no matter what. But either way, for my own sake, I think I need distance. From you. Again, not your fault. This is me being selfish, doing something purely for my own benefit. But will you allow me this tiny piece of self-indulgence? Allow me the distance? I think it would be best." He chews on the inside of his lip, mouth curved into a frown. "Please?"

Before she can make any sense of anything, he's already stood up, standing by the doorway. She gets this sinking feeling that if she lets him disappear out of it today, she may never see him again, or she'd regret it until the day she dies, or worse, both.

"Fuck no," she stands too, grabbing his wrist in attempt to keep him near, hoping she doesn't have to revert to clawing and crying and begging him not to leave, but she feels prepared to do so if necessary.

She loves him. That much is for certain. The shock of the situation made her feelings hard to see through, but seeing him there, about to walk out the door on her for the foreseeable future, it puts everything into perspetive.

She loves him, she wants him, she needs him, and she's never letting him leave.

On some odd instinct, some impulse buried deep inside of her that only comes out in the most dire of moments, she grabs him forcefully by the back of his neck, curls squished under the weight of her heavy, gripping fingers, and pulls her lips to his.

It's one hell of a first kiss. She's instantly incinerated, entire body burning, stemming from her lips which are messily pressed to his in desperation, and he stands still for a few moments, letting himself be kissed, in shock, she hopes. Finally, his hands come to meet the sides of her head, holding her in place firmly, and he kisses her back with just as much force, as much passion. She hopes she never has to let him out of her grasp.

He pulls away first, both his hands slipping down to rest on either of her shoulders, and she reaches a knuckle up to gently wipe streaming, hot tears from his face.

"I won't let you leave, not today, not ever." He nods with every word she speaks, like he's drunk on her cadence.

She goes back in for another kiss, hoping to reignite herself, but he dodges it. "Wait, what does this mean? For us? What's going to happen next?"

She holds his gaze with intensity. "Next, you're going to kiss me more. After that, you're gonna drive me home. And tomorrow, you're going to take me on our first date. We can figure it all out from there. But for now, I just want you."

He nods, smiles, no smugness or cockiness behind it, which is so unlike him, "I want you too," he is so sincere her heart aches to hear him whisper it onto her lips.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @americanangel @milkluvr8

#the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfiction #matty the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #ratty matty #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #adam hann #adam hann x reader #ross macondald fanfic #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald #fanfiction #fanfic #the 1975 fluff #fluff #matty healy fluff #the 1975 fic