#I couldn't figure out how to put a “read more” section sorry

[tiacat11]

As someone who's also into game design (though it's not really a career so much as an interest) I think accessibility in games is really, really fucking important, but I think after playing GX a little I kind of understand why the difficulty is such a huge draw.

I'm gonna say something controversial here: Dark Souls isn't that hard. F-Zero isn't that hard. Mega Man isn't that hard. I've played all of those games. What they have is the POTENTIAL to be hard, and the fact that their core gameplay loop revolves around trial and error. They're games that reward patience and persistence over anything else.

I'd barely ever played a racing game before F-Zero GX, the thing I'd had the most experience with was Mario Kart. And yeah, I struggled a lot on the first story mission of GX, which I knew was SUPPOSED to be a tutorial. So instead I went to Practice mode, picked the very first track in the game, and learned the controls on my own time and at my own pace. I did several laps on Mute City, getting used to how it controlled, getting used to drifting and taking tight turns. I learned that blast turning wasn't possible in this game, but I could pull both drift buttons at the same time to powerslide. I learned that I could use jumps to get up into the air and massively cut time off of tracks, but if I wasn't careful I could get myself killed. I learned that boosting is fun and you should definitely ignore that little alarm that goes off when your energy is low! (Okay, that last one is debatable)

But from then, I tried a grand prix on Novice difficulty, and I actually did pretty decent! I think I ended up taking 3rd, which feels like a loss at first, until I'm reminded that this is a "hard" game and you're supposed to keep playing over and over to get good at it. Then 3rd felt pretty good. 2nd felt better. 1st felt fucking amazing. Then I went back and played the story mode that had me stuck, and passed it in the first go.

Now, I repeat that process, every time I'm stuck on a track. If I lose a Grand Prix to a track, I pull it up on Practice mode and run laps on it over and over until I feel more confident on it. F-Zero is fun to me because I can feel myself getting better at the game the more I play it, and I never considered myself a "tryhard" or someone who loves "hard" games.

I think accessibility in games is important, and that's why I think we should find a better term for "hard" games. Because that's the thing, these games aren't hard, they're meant for you to try something new, fail, learn from that mistake, and come back again. It's a game that's meant to help you grow your skill level, and it's kind of sad to me that once a game gets a reputation for being "hard" people like me won't want to play it anymore. I had to be dragged kicking and screaming into playing Dark Souls because I didn't think I would like it. I only played Mega Man because my friend begged me to. Every time, I come in convinced that this "hard" game is going to give me a bad experience, but instead I find myself growing and learning and being rewarded for that.

I guess I'm a little off topic by this point - how can we fix it, aside from finding a better term than "hard game"? I definitely agree the difficulty curve in GX is fucked, as great as it feels to get good at the game, how quickly it revs up ends up feeling like you're going from one stonewall to the next. So then, I'd propose more missions of a smaller caliber, with the extremely difficult missions as a sort of "boss" mission.

I think rewarding the player for playing and making losing fun is a crucial part of the gameplay loop, the fact that you still get parts and tickets even if you don't win the Grand Prix means you don't walk away from a race emptyhanded, and I think that's crucial. Rewards for beating your best time, placing higher than you did before, rewards for continuing to play the game (NOT daily rewards, those are the path of the devil) and encouraging the player to keep trying, I think that's all a crucial part of making a "hard" game fun. Helping the player track their individual progress and growth, not just in terms of "win the race or don't" but showing how they the player are now better than the player they were a week ago - that's what I think would make F-Zero more fun, and possibly draw in a larger audience.

But also I'm a #fakefan who got into F-Zero because 99 dropped so maybe I know nothing about the series LMAO

What would you want from a new F-Zero? Personally the only gameplay things I can think of are more vehicle customization, death race (F-Zero X) and an easier difficulty?

Non gameplay, I suppose the integration of the various anime original characters into the game universe?

Those gameplay additions sound good! I know that the difficulty is part of what "makes F-Zero" for some people but as someone who is both bad at racing and studying accessibility in video games and game design, I would really love for there to be ways for less skilled players to enjoy as well (looking at you, GX story mode).

As much as I love and adore the anime characters I'm not sure I personally would want them to be merged into the game universe. I don't really talk about it much because I'm afraid it will come off as judgey or gatekeeping when that is the opposite of what I want to convey but I am happy with their current status as characters in an alternate universe timeline and I think introducing them into the main games would make more people mix up the anime and game timelines/characters, like more than they already do lol. I personally like keeping the verses separate but I think it's interesting when people think up ways to make the two universes work with each other.

Other than that I would really love another story mode, I know there's mixed feelings on GX's campy story and whether it even actually happened (stares at Black Shadow's pilot vid) but I LOVE campy cheesy goodness and beyond that, the implications of certain things that happened in the story such as Falcon uhhhhh gaining the power to reshape the universe (like. Hello????) are so fun to dig into. Sure the story wasn't a cinematic masterpiece of plot but the open ends mean it's Free Real Estate for fic and meta 🥳🤲 So a new story would be fun to see, whether it's serious or not. Or even just new snippets of pilot screentime like the interviews were because the pilots are what keep me in a chokehold here 👯

[the-faceless-bride]

can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)

Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself

🌕New Ghoul in School🐍

Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?

Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce

Proof read : nope

Requested?: yes

You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...

"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"

"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"

"yeah, Dude. Not cool."

🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.

🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.

🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.

But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.

🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.

🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.

🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.

"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"

🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.

🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?

Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.

🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.

Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"

🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.

🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...

"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"

🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.

🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.

🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.

🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...

🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?

Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.

🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.

[misc-obeyme]

Hello! I was hoping I could request the prompt: tome for Solomon, if it hasn’t been taken by the time I send this in. If so, no worries! Take care of yourself and have a great rest of your day, morning, or evening (depending on when you get this)! 😊

Hello!

Oof, I'm sorry for the delay on this, but I am getting caught back up on event requests now! Hopefully this didn't turn out too bad, I am still kinda fighting through the writer's block asdlkfjdkljf. BUT I love Solomon so he's easy to write for. Also I rewrote it because it was too long the first time, but it ended up getting even longer the second time. 😩 So I was like okay fine it's just gonna be what it's gonna be lol!

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt tome

Warnings: none!

Solomon's bookshelves had a unique organization system that only the sorcerer himself could navigate. Any time you had a question about magic that he didn't know the answer to off the top of his head, he went straight to the exact book he needed. He would flip it open to the right page almost effortlessly, as though he had read each book multiple times.

The more time you spent learning from him, though, the more you began to understand how the shelves worked. Parts of it were still a mystery to you, but you could always tell when he had bought several new things. You would check the titles out of curiosity only to find that most of them were in a language you didn't speak.

One day Solomon left you alone with the books as he went to find some potion ingredients. You did a cursory perusal of the shelves, eyes automatically drawn to the new additions.

You were surprised to find one you could read. It was about hexes and seemed to be at your level.

You put your finger on the top of it and tipped it back, pulling it off the shelf to land neatly in your hand. As you did this, though, another book that had fallen behind that one tumbled out.

You just managed to catch the second book before it hit the floor.

Which was a good thing because it was so thick you thought it might've cracked the section of floor it landed on.

You put back the first book and tried to hold this one, but you couldn't quite get your hands around it. You carried it to the table and put it down with a heavy thud.

It had no title. It was big and leather bound - black with a shimmer to it, like an opal. The page edges were shiny gold and sparkled slightly. There was a singe purple ribbon sticking out of the bottom, about halfway through the pages.

You pulled on the ribbon and opened the book to the page it had marked.

The pages were blank. You stared at the pristine white of them for a moment in confusion. Then you noticed some kind of writing on the other side of the left page. You flipped it and sucked in a breath.

It was Solomon's handwriting.

You frowned. Was this magical looking epic tome his diary or something? That didn't seem likely.

You felt a little guilty, but you had to know, so you flipped to the first page to see if you could figure it out.

There you found a small and messy sketch of yourself. Beside it were the words MC's Path to Sorcery. You smiled at the sketch. It was adorable and captured your likeness well.

You flipped through some more pages. There were diagrams of magic circles, lists of potion ingredients, descriptions of spells, and clear steps for earning your seven sorcerer stars. There were little notes beside these about you and how well you had learned each thing. They sometimes mentioned areas you needed to work on or had little suggestions for things to try next.

It finally dawned on you as you recognized everything outlined before you. These were lesson plans. This was Solomon planning out what to teach you and then documenting your success.

You found a few other things, too. A flower you had given him was pressed between the pages. A note you had left for him was taped in. A few more sketches and even a handful of pictures. Little mementos from moments you spent together. As if this book had begun as a way to record what he was teaching you, but had evolved to include memories of you as well.

You bit your lip. This was so cute and you found yourself struggling to fight back tears. But you didn't mean to find it and it didn't feel right to continue looking through something so private. You closed the book and put it back on the shelf before Solomon returned. Maybe one day he would tell you about it himself. Maybe you would eventually tell him that you knew about it. But for now, it was enough to know that he kept it here, snug on his shelves with the rest of his precious collection.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[compacflt]

hey! i was just going through your blog, and i saw a post about ice&carole and mav&goose. i looked a bit more but i couldn't find a post about your take on mav and goose's relationship, so i wanted to ask what it was. if you have answered this, i'm sorry about asking you again. imo i think what they had was wayy deeper than friendship but complex and probably not romantic, but again, i just wanted to know your thoughts on it.

thank you! and this blog has probably been one of the best finds i have ever come across on tumblr, i'll be sad to see you go.

yeah, i was really trying to be suave and subtle and mysterious about it with this parallel

like, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.

but luckily for you i looooove beating dead horses. to a problematic degree.

the full story of my vision of mavgoose (moose?) is in the completed draft of the extras that are coming out on Saturday. about halfway through. But i want to bring it back to the internal craft-of-writing debate i brought up yesterday—my inability to summarize, or to cut superfluous sections that don’t really matter.

I’ll stick it under the cut for spoiler reasons, but i wanna show the simple first draft of this scene versus the complicated, heavier final draft. And I want to ask any of you, if you’re interested—as a reader, which is more impactful? which should i end up publishing?

the simple first draft:

then i kept turning it in my head thinking of different ways to edit it to say something slightly different, to get a little more specific, coming up with things to add, and ended up adding like five extra paragraphs. which is this:

about 1/4 of the final draft (by which i mean, this is about 1/4 of the whole final discussion scene, but the goosemav-specific content only goes on for about another graf [omitted bc spoilers]):

(so to answer your ask explicitly, i actually don’t think they were anything deeper than good friends. imo there’s no evidence that they were anything deeper than good friends, especially with maverick blowing goose/goose’s wishes off soooo many times [‘she’s lost that lovin feelin;’ volleyball; refusing to do the responsible thing at least twice even after goose tells him it puts his & his family’s livelihoods at risk…bro all he does is blow off goose]. see me bitching in the tags for more on this)

obviously in my head the complicated in-depth version ⬆️ is the True version, the version of events that really Happened. i think the writing is in some spots much more compelling. But it just doesn’t make for a particularly good reading experience when it’s surrounded by like 3/4 pages of other discussion of history! sometimes too much of (what i think is) a good thing turns that good thing bad! & this is a major keystone dynamic of my whole series so i just want to get it right, for my own peace of mind. I guess im asking you to be the harsh editor i wish i had sometimes, if ur interested in doing so—this is genuinely a major major problem i have with my writing, i can’t ever just leave well enough alone 😭 please let me know if simpler is better/less is more in this case! do i publish the short vague “the reader fills in the blanks” version or the long boring “here’s EXACTLY how i see it” version?

[acrylicqueen]

Hiii!! Sorry for the question, but I just saw this post and got really curious about the scene depicted/the story this moment is from in general?

It just looks really interesting and now I kinda need to know... 👀👀👀

I wasn't expecting anyone to ever ask about this! (and by that I mean thank you so much for allowing me to talk about it kdjshskf) That scene depicts an important interaction between my Mario OC Princess Maxine and Fawful. I have a huge document full of lore stuff regarding the kingdom Maxine rules over (Grassland). In it there's a section that explains what Maxine's relationship to and history with Fawful is (as well as what's happening in that drawing specifically.) I'll quote it here under a read more:

"Maxine and Fawful’s History

Maxine and Fawful met for the first time when they were both 13-years-old, shortly after the events of Superstar Saga. After being thrown from Bowser's Castle when he lost the battle against Mario and Luigi, Fawful landed near the Grassland/Beanbean Kingdom border. Realizing he couldn't stay in the Beanbean Kingdom, he crossed the border, escaping into Grassland. 

Fawful was found a few weeks later by King Arborn in the Turmeric Farmlands and was offered a place to stay inside the castle considering his strange circumstances. He laid low in Grassland, living there with Maxine and her father for about six years. During this time, Fawful and Maxine grew very close.

At age 19, Fawful left the castle spontaneously one night. He hadn't told anyone he was leaving, and he never returned. He went to live in the sewers underneath Peach’s Castle, running his Bean 'n' Badge shop while spying on the kingdom, learning everything he could about the residents, and plotting his revenge against Mario and Luigi. He stayed underneath the kingdom for 6 years until he felt it was time to put his evil plan into action. 

…

At the end of Bowser's Inside Story Fawful’s body exploded, breaking into millions of microscopic particles that were scattered about after Bowser vomited the Dark Star energy back up.  

Once dispersed into the air, Fawful’s body stayed in this limbo between life and death for a while, floating around until it decided to rebuild itself months later. When it finally did, it was in a broken state, still struggling to recover from the pure Dark Star energy Fawful absorbed. He existed now as a shambling, shadowy mass that barely resembled a person, wandering around aimlessly while trying to regain his identity.  

While in this corrupted state Fawful made his way back to Grassland. His mind hadn't fully recovered at this point, so he was acting purely on instinct. Even despite his failures and how he'd left the kingdom before, somewhere inside his damaged mind was the desire to return.

After residents came to Maxine with fears regarding a dark, shambling figure roaming around the kingdom, she went to investigate. She eventually found Fawful and, against her better judgment, decided to help him (out of nostalgia or necessity, who knows). 

Over the next couple months Fawful was quarantined and cared for inside of Castle Grassland, his body slowly rebuilding itself more and more as time went on. Maxine stayed by Fawful's side throughout his entire recovery despite how complicated her feelings were regarding his abandonment and the atrocities he committed against her fellow kingdoms. 

After Fawful fully recovered, he remained in Grassland. In the present day, at 26-years-old, Fawful still resides there, living in the castle with Maxine once more."

[lobotomy-maybe-bestie]

so after my computer broke and i couldn't play any games for a month i finally finished pentiment! it's good! play it if you like a mystery, medieval (german) culture and lots and lots and LOTS of reading. spoilers for the big reveal under the cut be warned

magdalene's whole thing felt a bit more linear than andreas', and way lower stakes. the stakes was unavoidable, figuring out a murder mystery and painting a mural are not the same kind of stress level activity, but i feel like the linearness could have been avoided by just giving magdalene more things to do And by giving the player a chance to kick off major plot before doing all the little things first? like andreas could always decide to forward time by eating with people or deciding to do a subplot activity that cost time, and you frequently had to decide between options that would become locked afterwards (or at least the game made you think so)

magdalene really had to do Everything. i noticed that several times. the order in which she talked to people was up to the player, but she Had to talk to everyone for plot to continue and that was. a little annoying? i didn't Need to sit down and hear Everyone's version of the revolt like i was there. i know what happened. sure magdalene doesn't but having all this exposition for the sake of the character and not the player is an odd choice. sure it should have been available but did you really need to Force me to listen to it?

in the later chapters, the story really became very linear and like. that didn't bother me in the tense plot-heavy situations but it did bother me in the normal ones.

what the game really blindsided me with was andreas being alive. i expected that at the end of his arc, but then magdalene took so long and hints about his being alive were so far and few between that i genuinely thought that the hints we did get were about the thread-puller being after magdalene, not andreas. doesn't help that the paintings over the dance of death mural looked like child's paintings. sorry buddy but it did NOT make me think "skilled craftsman who is a professional artist" it made me think "some kid put some graffiti here".

i did enjoy seeing him again! loved the little jaunt through his mind. and speaking of i LOVED how they did the reveal. it was so good, peak drama! and i absolutely did NOT see it coming. when sister amalie's script changed i GASPED it was so exciting!!

father thomas' motivations were. okay they weren't Thee most convincing. when magdalene was like "i think you're shit at reading people actually" i was like yeah so true. EVERYONE AND THEIR MOM FUCKING KNOW THE ROMAN STORIES. it's not uncommon for older faiths to mix with christianity it would have Literally been fine dude nobody would have been discouraged by finding out about the saint origins. although those thoughts sort of go between doylistic and watsonian because like. is it a weak ass argument and something most regular people of the time would disagree with? sure! would some priest who thinks he's the keeper of the poor uneducated simple people's souls think that way and make those choices? fuck yeah those guys can be entitled as shit!

i loved seeing the mural. the epilogue was. fine. i think my favourite part about magdalene's storyline was sneaking into the poor clare's.

i liked andreas' section of the story way more but i'm also heavily HEAVILY biased because i loved that liturgical hours wheel and i hated the rathaus clock, and of all parts of the game i have by far the most interest in benedictine monks and nuns. so i felt a bitter absence in magdalene's part of the story.

also i feel like they should have given her like. maybe not something similar but something adjacent to andreas' little dream realm? like just a visual representation of how she coped with stuff? maybe inbetween the longer breaks of in-game time between playable chunks? it always felt like you would go to bed and then three months would pass and she would literally not change as a person one bit idk

these are complaints on a very high level though. like it's a really really Really good game don't get me wrong! i'll probably need a good Long break before i can play it myself again but i might watch playthroughs or look through some alternate dialogue options

[mihohonemarurp]

Miho's backstory and character information/intro

This post is entirely OOC and there are trigger warnings for it and the rest of the blog in general, those being of bullying, abuse, child neglect, attempted murder of a child and a lot of talks of medical stuff. of course all these issues will be treated seriously and respectfully by me, while unlikely if any jokes are made about this in character please know that it is not me treating the topics like jokes. If any of this is triggering you don't have to read, it will all be under a read more section.

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Character ref images:

sorry for not having a real full drawn ref! i havent made one yet :c

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Ever since she was a young child Miho was very weak, being in and out of hospitals since she was a toddler which caused her parents to slowly resent her as she cost them so much money. this got worse until, one night her parents tried to suffocate her because she had become too much effort and money for them.. of course this lead to her being put in a child care program and while there her life was hell, as a lot of the other children there used her as a punching bag, especially the older boys who would hurt her the most, finding it funny as she got hurt far easier than anyone else and couldn't fight back even if she tried.. some people did care about her, but most didn't as she was unable to do most things without getting tired or sick..

While she was kept alive and technically taken care of, the staff at the place she stayed were awful, with them not having the proper money or care to actually be able to help her, and several simply didn't bother with Miho in the first place, figuring that she was going to die anyways and it wasn't there problem to help her.. others did take care of her, but her complaints about being hurt, were left alone, "she was just being sensitive" they said.. and she didn't have the heart to fight back, she didn't want to cause problems.. after all her parents had already grown to hate her.. and she didn't want it to happen again.. she'd rather just disappear than that..

There was one time where the abuse went too far, with one of the boys hurting her so badly that one of her ribs broke and pierced her lung.. after that she was rushed to the hospital, where as they were treating her they found far more things wrong with her body, with one of the nurses wondering how she'd even survived this long.

Since then she's been stuck in a hospital, never being able to leave or make friends that stayed around, with the few she did make always leaving the hospital after a while.. her treatment is expensive, so she's had to pick up something to do to make money, so she's picked up poetry, which people pay her enough money for either because they like it, they want her to write something for them, or sometimes they want to actually see her read it live, which the hospital rarely allows much to her disappointment.

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Alright other details time! First her quirk!

Dove: Fairly self explanatory, she's able to do most things a dove could, with the exception of flying, as her body isn't strong enough to have her grow proper wings. her quirk is also the cause of the bird wings she has in place of her ears, she can still hear out of them about as good as normal ears tho.

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

General Info about her and what to expect when interacting

Miho's info: She's 22/23 (22 at the start of the series, and around the middle of the series she turns 23), she's a demigirl and uses she/they, she's biromantic and demisexual, and her favorite hero is Hawks.

When interacting

Miho isn't great at talking with people, she's generally a bit odd and nervous as she doesn't really talk with people outside of the hospital staff, however she will try to talk with anyone, even villains as she's not super aware of a lot of stuff that's happened with them

she gets attached to people very quickly if they're nice to her, and doesn't fully understand a lot of how she's supposed to feel about things

they don't like speaking about their past unless they're close to someone, and speaking about what she's been through is generally very triggering for her

she admires heroes more than anything and wishes she could be one too as they think it's the most wonderful thing someone could do, but of course she's not able to due to their illness

most of her knowledge on how the world works is from movies or the bits of the news she's seen, meaning sometimes she'll say stuff that comes off as super odd or just slightly concerning, especially since she's seen a lot of horror movies

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

anyways!! have fun with this blog! and if you like it i have others (feel free to ask what they are!!)

[annabreaksthings]

For sure! I love the series as a whole because it's not near as sugar coated as a lot of other war-based books. You get to hear about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Granted, there's still some glossing over of details, but overall it's very tastefully done. And I really appreciate how it mirrors real life events and people. This adds quite a bit of credibility to the alternative timeline of the book, just because it did happen historically and we know the outcome. Now we just added a female presence.

As for the characters, they are really well done, especially the badass female leads. Rio richlin is just *chef's kiss* and by far my favorite. Rainy is a close second. I also appreciate the character development in this series, both individually and within their interpersonal relationships. It's very realistic and believable based on what the characters are going through. I'm especially impressed with Geer's development, as a person learning how to work in a group and how not to be a general ass all the time. Then there's the relationship he has with Pang throughout the series, going from being very racist, to having a great working relationship/friendship, to becoming a huge advocate after the war and Pang's death. I liked seeing Rio herself and her relationship with Castain develop too as the war progressed. I could go on about that quite a bit. And of course I wish there was more Rio/Jack and that she had dumped Strand's ass to the curb as soon as he couldn't handle her success. But, that also speaks a bit to Rio's people pleasing nature (and the social standards at the time), even though being in the war/command positions should have given her some more confidence.

Other than that, this just makes me realize how much I'm due for a reread lol

First of all, I'm so sorry this took a month to answer 😓 My computer has been out of commission and the thought of typing up (and then probably reorganizing) a long, semi-coherent response on my phone made me want to chuck it in a lake. Please know I've been thinking of this every day because I'm so excited to talk about these books with someone again!!

Anyway.

My friend, you've taken the words right out of my head with everything you wrote here. I'm with you 100% on all of this. (putting the rest of this under a cut to spare the masses)

You're so right on the realism - I feel like so many other historical fiction books are either sanitized for younger (or squeamish) audiences, or they swing to the complete opposite direction and become a bit dry with the level of detail unless you're a super history buff. Purple Hearts in particular was hard to read at times, but I think maybe it should be. There were a lot of ugly things that really happened, and I'm glad to find an author that doesn't shy away from it for the sake of a squeaky clean image of the allies.

I think I said it in another post a long time ago, but I'm so fascinated by the butterfly effect possibilities this story presents. Obviously the women in canon have proven that they're highly effective in all kinds of roles previously restricted to men, but does that continue after the war? Would it change anything for women in the workforce during peacetime? Or would there still be regression to "traditional" gender norms similar to what we saw in the 40's and 50's? I wish there was more fic or meta for these books because I would love to hear tons more ideas on this.

I could go on about Rio for hours, too. The way she goes from only signing up because Jenou did (and she would follow Jenou off a cliff if asked, I think) to being a highly respected, highly decorated NCO and figuring out she's good at this is one of my favorite things. The section with Strand telling her she's just "playing soldier" is so interesting because if I remember correctly (I'm due for a reread too, it's been a while), she does fight back on that idea at first, but I can see her start to believe it assuming he keeps it up back home.

And Strand. Strand. I too wish he would have been kicked to the curb for the sake of truth, justice, and the American Way, but at the same time, as a piece of fiction, I'm kind of glad he didn't. Most people don't walk away from unhealthy relationships at the first red flag (or second... or third...), and I think there's a fine line to be walked here between normalizing this kind of behavior in relationships and helping people to feel less alone in their own struggles. Unfortunately for our characters, I feel like staying with him fits Rio's MO and realities of the day just as you said. There's something to be said for nostalgia, too, especially when they keep meeting up during the war. He's a little slice of home when she's knee deep in mud and gore, and maybe a little glimpse of the girl she would have been without a war. Who wouldn't want that? Again, there are 1000 fics to write on this... what was the final straw to get her to leave?

But what I would give to see the Strands of the world get what's coming to them....

On the other side, Jack is definitely one of my favorites. He's hilarious in the first book, and I so wish he would have gotten more screentime in the 3rd. But again, for historical accuracy, I can see why he's not when he's reporting to Rio, and why she shoots him down. (Even though it's so painful to read 😭)

What I really love about this though, along with the epilogue, is the theme of relationships and professional success coming later in life. Frangie's married and has kids (teenagers even!) before she becomes a doctor, but she's a doctor nonetheless!! And Rio's been divorced for years and has been in a long relationship-free spell before Jack walks back into her life (presumably with Rainy's meddling). It's so refreshing to see characters who don't have it all figured out at 22, or settle down with their first love, or reach their wildest dreams on the first try. But they keep growing and changing and living, and I think we could all stand to do a little more of that.

[twodiamondhoes]

Oh wow, I didn't realize my ask would be replied back with a fic snippet!

Concept 1 sounds a bit like The Highwayman so I'm glad Dirges took a new turn (the snippet was awesome though!). Concept 2, though, that sounds so cool! I'd love to see a fic where Tango takes more of a proactive role in death and protection as a soulkeeper! Maybe you could spin it into an AU with it's own brand of spookiness, with or without Del Sombra.

I now want to ask another thing: what made you decide to use Empires characters in Dirges? And are we going to see more of them in the character stories?

Haha, hope you enjoyed it! I figured it would just end up continuing to collect dust in my docs folder otherwise, and your ask was the perfect reason to post it.

This got longer than expected, so I'm going to put it under a cut. :D

Fun fact 2! I was about halfway through plotting the revamped second concept when I read The Highwayman (if you haven't read it, go go go!! it's so good) and let me tell you, the crisis I had once I'd finished it and come down from that "I just read an excellent fic" high was major. I was in full on panic mode for a few days, worried that even though I'd already changed so much from that original concept that Dirges would still be too similar. My partner had to remind me that there are entire library sections out there that are similar premises with vastly different executions (please see: westerns, lol), that no one could write the story I had in my head but me, and that even if no one read Dirges, it would still be worth writing.

But let me tell you there was a period of twenty-four hours where I tried to think up a fic that I would want to write more than Dirges for the sake of the Big Bang and I just couldn't. So in the end, I kept going, ended up with the final concept for Dirges, re-plotted the whole thing, and then basically ate, slept, and breathed Dirges for about four months. I'm not going to be doing that with the sequels because holy smokes that was a lot of writing in a very very short time, but I still can't quite believe I pulled it off in the end.

As far as Soulkeeper Tango goes, I might see about giving him his own au! The idea is so near and dear to my heart. I've got a lot on the docket for the future, but I'm going to keep him in the back of my head, in the hopes that inspiration strikes and I can give him the story he deserves. I have toyed with the idea of a smaller fic, loosely based around the original Concept 2 plotline for Dirges (so basically an au of my own au lol), but we'll see!

Oooh excellent question! The short answer is, I needed a huge cast. The longer answer is, it felt odd to have Jimmy be the only non-hermit in the entire story, and to separate him from his buddies on other servers, especially because I wanted Lizzie as the fourth Ratcliffe sibling, so it would be Lizzie and Jimmy versus the Hermitcraft members. There was also the factor that both Pearl and Gem were on Empires 1, and the HC/Empires crossover made it an easy leap to make. I wanted Jimmy to have been able to make friends, and to make the world feel populated, without having Del Sombra be the only place the Hermits congregated, since I'd already made Joe Hills Mayor of another town, and the places I could think to put a lot of the other hermits were Elsewhere. My options ended up being: either come up with a bunch of OCs, or see if I could sprinkle in some Empires characters, and it all kind of spiraled from there! I wasn't sure how people would receive a plethora of OCs, and since the Hermitcraft cast was a limited pool of folks that I'd already placed in the world, I figured adding in some other MCYTs couldn't hurt. So, I started with Shelby and Sausage and it all kind of fell into place from there!

As for if we'll be seeing them in the other stories, absolutely! There are some Hermits I haven't included yet (sorry Iskall, my beloved), and there are parts of some of the sequels that will be taking place around some of the Empires members as well as HC members that we've seen, and some that we haven't! For example, the reason Iskall isn't in Del Sombra to pester Stress and the others is because he's a holdover from one of the Earlier Concepts and I like his role too much to change it, so it's going to be folded into one of the later stories. Oli will also be showing up at a couple of very specific points! Those are the two examples off the top of my head, but there is definitely more to come!

Thank you for the questions! This is a lot of fun XD

[gorygirl1996]

"THE 47TH INFECTION"-(AKA "THE 47TH TURNED").

MY FIRST IMAGE POST ON A TUMBLER GROUP! ALSO IF U WANNA KNOW WHY I TYPE LIKE THIS, PLEASE READ MY BVIO. BEEN PLAYING' THE HEL OUT OF THE HITMAN WOA TRILOGY LATLEY AND ITS FREAKING AWESOME! I WISH I COULD'VE KNOWN OF/GOT TO PLAY THE OLDER GAMES WHEN THEY CAME OUT THOUGH.

ANYWAY: I KNOW THIS IS "OUT OF CHARACTER" GIVEN THAT VAMPS DON'T EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE, AND I THINK 47'S IMMUNE TO MOST ILLNESSES/INFECTIONS...SO IDK IF IT WOULD WORK ON HIM, IF TI WERE ONE, THEN AGAIN THE VIRUS IN THAT ONE LEVEL KILLS HIM IF HE GETS SICK RIGHT?

ANYWAYS. LONG STORY-SHORT ISH. I FOUND OUT ABOUT THE OUTFIT, AND I THOUGHT "WHAT IF?... I MEAN HE'S ALREADY A STRONGLY ENHANCED CLONE. SO...MAYBE BEING A VAMPIRE WOULD...PROBABLY MAKE HIM MUCH MORE TERRIFYING!" (NOT THAT HE ISN'T ALREADY DANGEROUS AND YET AWESOME ON HIS OWN, OF COURSE. JUST SAYING).

THEN I HEARD THIS ONE RANDOM GUARD WHILE WATCHING SOMEONE PLAY THE MISSON SAY SOMETHING LIKE: "YEA HA-HA! VERY FUNNY BUDDY, VAMPIRES DON'T EXIST!" OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT...SO AGAIN WHAT IF THEY DID? THAT ONLYL FULED MYDESIREE TO DO THIS EVEN MORE. WELL...TBH I CAN'T HELP IT, BUT I LOVE TURNING CHARACTERS I LIKE INTO THEM...IDK WHY TBH. MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE I THINK THEY'RE (SOMETIMES) SO BADASS AND COOL IN MY OPINION LOL!

ALSO, I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHICH TAG TO GIVE THIS TBH, SO IF THIS IS THE WRONG ONE, OR IF THERE'S A BETTER FITTING ONE PLEASE TELL ME I KIND OF WISH WE NOT ONLY HAD AN ARTWORK TAG SECTION BUT ALSO THE ABILITY TO PUT MUTLBALE TAGS ON THESE THINGS.

I OWN NOTHING ABOUT THE HITMAN SERIES...ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO IO INTERACTIVE. I PUT THE IMAGES/TEXT TOGETHER IN A SORT OF "MEME" STYLE USING GIMP, AND I POSED 47 IN GMOD-(TO THE BEST OF MY LIMITED ABILITIES, GIVEN HOW MY GMOD HAS MESSED UP ATM WHEN IT COMES TO UPCLOSE POSES). SO I'M SORRY IF THE PIC DOESN'T LOOK THE BEST, I'M STILL ALSO A NOOB AT GMOD POSING MIND U.

BUT I ALSO ADDED HIS SCARY EYES/FANGS WITH GIMP. THE VAMPIRE CUSTOM IMAGE, IS FROM THE HITMAN WIKI, I ALSO DON'T OWN IT EITHER LOL. IF YOU ALL DON'T WANT ME USING IT, I WILL TAKE IT OUT OF THE PICTURE AND JUST USE THE TEXT OR SOMETHING.

THANKS FOR READING, PLEASE FORGIVE THE LONG-ISH ESSAY OF TEXT AND ALSO FORGIVE ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES IF ANY ARE PRESENT.

[mrbexwrites]

Thoughts on Beta Readers

Apologies in advance if this turns into a bit of a ramble; I've had a lot of thoughts in my head, and I needed to somewhere to formulate them into a coherent stream.

I made this writblr page about a year ago after realising that I have written loads of stories, but never really thought about sharing them. I still don't know what I'm ultimately going to do with any of them- I don't think I have the skills/fortitude to go through Trad or Indie pub, nor the stamina and/or headspace for self-pub and trying to be my own hype/marketing person just doesn't appeal to me.

I like the writing part of writing; not so much anything else, as anyone who has seen any of my other posts will attest to! I think in just about every post I've ever published, it's just me grumbling about editing!

Anyway- sorry, I digress (in my defense, I did say that this would be a rambling post, so you only have yourself to blame if you've made it this far into my diatribe!). I've only been brave enough to share snippets of my WIPs through tag games, and everyone who had liked, commented or reblogged something- has given me that little dopamine spike and helped me find some courage to share my work.

I put out a call for beta readers, and some amazing people have taken the time and effort to read something that I've written.

I'm not a confident person, and I really worried that my story was garbage. I think I've stared at the documents so many times, that I could no longer see the woods from the trees. There were bits that I wasn't happy with, but couldn't figure out why. I was worried that I didn't have enough research under my belt to handle sentitive topics. Some sections felt too heavy, or dull. I found my own writing boring, my characters bland, scenes didn't gel, action felt disjointed etc etc.

Basically, I was in a bit of a tailspin, or a slump, a funk...and I didn't know how to dig myself out of the hole that I'd managed to clamber into. Normally, when I finish a WIP, it's done, and I don't do anything with it. It just stays in my docs folder, and backed up to an external hard-drive.

Rather than just continuing to stare at a document for hours, wondering what to do, I found my beta readers, and sent my first draft over to them (hoping that I'd managed to find all typos- lol, that didn't happen. Typos still managed to escape me -_-' )

I've seen several posts on my dash from folk complaining about interaction and the writblr community. My posts don't get a lot of engagement, which is fine (not trying to join a pity party- just stating facts!) but I've found that the interaction that I do have from followers, mutual or random folk has been really meaningful.

I've gone from dreading sharing my work, to being excited to post snippets, and being tagged in games, getting to see what everyone else has been working on. (I appreciate that I'm a bit of a hypocrite, as I'm not very good at engaging with others on this site- I worry about coming across as a complete weirdo creep, and I struggle to find new ways of saying 'omg, I love this, show me more' in the tags! Or to think of asks to send, even though several people diligently send me asks every week! I'm trying to get better, I promise!)

Sorry- rambling again. I just...adklsdfgskhdfh

I'm honestly gobsmacked by the effort that my beta readers put into my WIP, and the kind comments, feedback and suggestions that they've made. I genuinely believed that I would get ' meh, it was okay' in the best scenario that I'd worked out in my head. Their engagement and feedback has been so helpful and I appreciate it so much.

It's helped me identify the sticking points that I was having, why I was unhappy with some scenes, characters etc etc. They have really helped me take that step back, and re-evaluate things, rather than just staring at the screen and feeling like a deer in the headlights. I was so worried/scared about sharing an entire WIP, but it's been worth it.

So, if anyone is in the same boat as me- scared to take the plunge- dip your toe in the water. Share snippets, work up to finding a beta reader or two, get outside input, rather than just sitting and staring trying to work it out on your own.

There are a lot of people out there willing to share their knowledge, and help you get the most out of your story.

Special thank you to @sam-glade and @at-thezenith for taking the time to give me such thorough feedback. I honestly can't thank you enough for your input and comments.

I'm going to stop rambling now, before this gets any more unhinged!

TL;DR- don't be a little writblr gremlin, lurking in the shadows. Engage with the community, and because they're awesome, they'll help you out!

[weltonreject]

what does being an English major entail? I’m trying to be one but I have no idea what the work or anything is going to look like/be like. I don’t know any English majors irl but I thought of you ? If this isn’t too weird. You don’t have to answer this if it’s weird to ask idk if it is. Have a good day bye

hi anon! This isn't a weird question-- I was just trying to figure out how to give a helpful response without rambling. Sorry for the delay!

So my English BA was in sort of in "general" English, meaning that I could take literature, creative writing, and theory classes that all fulfilled the major. My college offered a creative writing minor, but I couldn't use any writing classes toward both my major and my minor, so I minored in something else and just "made" my English degree more writing-focused. Definitely check what any prospective college offers in terms of class requirements or minors to see how you can maybe tailor a "general" English degree to your interests and strengths!

As for the workload, it depended on what type of class! I'm sure there are variations but the overall two types of classes I had were literature/theory and writing:

Literature/theory classes were really reading and discussion based. The syllabus would breakout all the readings-- articles, sections of books, whole plays, essays, chapters of an epic, etc-- and it was up to us (the class) to do create our own reading schedule (personal use, not like, as an assignment or anything) in order to have X read by a certain class with ideas ready to discuss or ask questions! Sometimes professors would ask you bring in discussion questions (which sometimes was annoying because you don't know what someone else is going to ask and sometimes that's when you really start to Get Into a text... but whatever. personal gripe lol). But other than that, there weren't really "assignments" day to day. In terms of exams, they were mostly essays-- my department didn't do blue book essays for english classes (timed essays in person) and did only "submit a 10-page paper on X by DATE" type of things, which meant I had time to massage my schedule as I needed come finals week.

[Side Note: Since most exams are essay based, and you are usually so fried by the end of term (and also writing about three other essays for other classes) I'd always mark page numbers whenever I took notes so I could find my "evidence" for essays a lot easier. I actually still mark page numbers/quotes now when I read recreationally! It's just a nice practice and a way to never lose something I thought was interesting! Just something fun I thought I'd share-- studying practices sometimes carry over to post-grad!]

(Creative) Writing classes are just as you'd imagine! The class would be put on a schedule and 3-4 people would have workshop during class. The other students would submit their 15-20 pages of new work two days before class and we'd all read and take notes (in-line edits but also a one-page summary of feedback) and come to class read to workshop/discuss the piece! Really the only thing that was ever annoying or bothersome about these writing classes was 1. making sure I had an original idea "in time" for my scheduled submission date and/or 2. how workshop was run; sometimes professors run them in a way that is boring/unhelpful/very cookie-cutter and not dependent on the writer or their work or what they hope to get out of it. Although, I say that now as someone who is a WAY different writer than I was as a freshman so. Perhaps 19 year-old me very much deserved the cookie-cutter process... Overall, still sort of a "reading schedule" class, but with less ability to read ahead, and working a different part of your "analysis" brain than reading finished, published works!

Being an English major was a lot of the same type of work in mass quantities-- which sometimes was great and other times made my brain Mush. I also had a very reading-focused minor so that's on me too... But, overall, no matter what class combination, there was always a rhythm I could find with all the different readings and writings and essays.

Being an English major was one of the best things I did at school, to be quite honest. I know that sounds a bit... canned, maybe? But I'm being very genuine. I can't imagine having studying anything else. There are so many different avenues and focuses and minors to drill down into, I never felt like I was bored in any class.

ALSO English departments are filled with so many different types of "English Majors!" The writers, the readers, the essayists, the analytic researcher-- you don't have to be all Dark Academia or Super Creative Poet to study English! As long as you bring sincerity and enthusiasm, you'll find great professors and mentors that can further expand what you can "do" with(in) an English degree!!

If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask!! I know I'm not the End All Be All on what it means to study English, but if there's anything I can tell you to give you a Boots On The Ground idea of the day-to-day, I would be more than happy to!

Have a great day! xo

[audioaujom]

22: Succumbing to the Darkening Alt [wrong end 8 ★8]

Corpse Party Hub, < prev, next >

This an alt of last week’s wrong end 8 ★8 from Book of Shadows Episode #5, taking place in Blood Covered’s Chapter 2. I know this can be repetitive, but this section is just too good not to do over and over with everyone I like lmao Only one more alt of this, next time with Charlie!

Pairing: Wilbur and Minx

Word Count: 3382

Chapter TWs: Blood and Gore, Graphic Depictions of Violence/Gore, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mind Manipulation ("Darkening"), Torture

--

Whatever you do, don’t look behind you.

Immediately upon reading the note sitting beside the candle on the steps, Wilbur stood up a little straighter, wondering to himself—What happens if I do?

He didn’t ponder for long, not taking the note very seriously and turning to glance back over his shoulder, only to recognize the female figure coming up the steps behind him. Minx looked up and smiled, jogging to catch up with him. “Wilbur…!”

“Minx…” Wilbur greeted, before realizing that she wasn’t alone when he had left her by the poolside earlier. “Where's Schlatt?" 

“I don't fuckin’ know. He was with me until a short while ago, but then we found ourselves running from a man with… an axe, I think… and we got separated and shit.” Minx explained unhurriedly, looking around the stairwell anxiously.

“I see… That's rather worrisome. I hope he's alright.” Wilbur commented evenly, hoping to calm her worries even a little bit. “How about you? You're not hurt, are you?”

“I'm fine. This isn't my blood.” Minx trailed off awkwardly, wringing her hands out nervously. “But this school… is even more dangerous than I thought. Whoever that man is, I'm fuckin’ sure he's been going around killing anyone who gets lost in this shithole.”

Wilbur paused, thinking over everywhere he’d been and not being able to call to mind anyone matching her description. “I haven't encountered him personally, so I couldn't say, but… I’d guess that’s likely.” 

“Wilbur, I— I'm actually scared.” She admitted after a minute, starting to pick at her fingernail polish. “If I'm by myself, he'll find me…” 

“Then… do you want me to go with you?” Wilbur asked after a moment, and as soon as he saw her light up at the request realized she had been waiting for him to offer.

“Oh… are you sure?”

He ignored her attempt to be bashful, easily caving. “Of course. I don't mind.”

The company won’t be unwelcome, I don’t think.

“Thank you!” She instantly brightened up, her relaxing and grabbing onto one of his arms to press her face against his side.

“H—Hey…!” He quickly stumbled out, easily pulling out of her uncomfortable grip.

“Ah, I'm sorry!” Minx apologized in a rush, her face tinting pink with embarrassment. “You have a girlfriend already, right? Niki, I think you said her name was.” 

“We're not like that.” Wilbur corrected just as quickly as she apologized, his mind still reeling a little from her awkward touch. “She's… like a little sister to me, I guess.”

“I bet life would be a whole lot less boring if I had a brother like you.” Minx teased, but it only caused Wilbur to frown nervously as he motioned for her to follow him up the stairs.

“I wouldn't be so sure about that.”

Methodically checking the next floor as carefully as they could for Niki, the two wandered around for quite a ways before the ambient light of the school seemed to dim greatly.

“It's gotten really dark in here.” Wilbur found himself commenting aloud, squinting at the darkness as if it would help him see. He paused as he saw Minx rummaging around, the hall too dark to tell what exactly she was doing. “Uh… Minx? What are you doing?”

“Hang on a sec. I've got a light.” She dismissed his concerns, her shirt rustling as she was then holding several things Wilbut couldn’t quite make out. “It's not just dark, but cold, too…”

“Yeah. We should head back. I think we might be putting ourselves in danger if we keep going.” Wilbur didn’t like the way the darkness seemed to be pulling him further down the hall, shaking the weird sensation off and turning to head back the way they came.

“But… the way back is gone.” Minx pointed back behind the two, Wilbur’s eyes finally adjusting to the darkness enough to see that yes—in fact—the wooden floor behind them had seemingly rotted and caved in, preventing them from going back short of jumping the gap.

“Shit…” Wilbur glared at the hole as if that would make it disappear, before suddenly a thought came to him and he turned to his companion. “Oh, Minx. Do you still have that alcohol lamp?”

“Er… Sorry, that didn't quite make it.” Minx sighed, before holding her hands out to Wilbur to show off the matchbook and several small candles she was holding. “But I've got plenty of candles.”

“No, I don’t think the candles will be enough.” The darkness in the hallway seemed too dense for a small flame to break it, Wilbur wracking his brain to try and come up with an idea of what to do next. “It’s… well, the darkness is fucking heavy, innit?”

“Yeah… But, look! There's a room.” Minx started putting the candles back to wherever they came from, pointing off into the darkness to something Wilbur couldn’t see. “Let's see what's inside, yeah?”

"Wait! It might not be safe! We need to be at least a little careful—” Wilbur tried to stop her, but in the process of the two of them heading in different directions and grabbing at each other, they ended up topping over the floor with loud shouts of surprise. As soon as Wilbur realized he was on top of her, he quickly tried to scramble away as an uncomfortable blush settled across his face and down his neck. He got up to his hands and knees as quickly as he could, panicked as Minx stared back up at him with a strange look on her face. “Fuck, s—sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I?” 

“I'm just fine.” Minx seemed all too comfortable where she landed, biting a little at her bottom lip—much to Wilbur’s distaste.

“Please, don't misunderstand. I… I didn't mean to.” Wilbur tried to explain, but she shook her head lightly and blinked slowly up at him with a coy smile.

“Never mind that. What say we have a little chat?”

“...what… do you…?” Wilbur wanted to get as far away from her as he possibly could, but stayed rooted to the spot as his brain tried to follow her off-putting offer.

“Don't you like me… Wil…?” Minx’s voice seemed to change pitch suddenly, becoming deeper as her eyes bored holes straight up into him. He felt himself flinch, opening his mouth to shut her down only to notice the first drops of blood forming in the corners of her eyes. 

Any words he had to say died in his throat as tear tracks of blood ran down her face, more blood beading out of her nose and dripping over her lips, a sense of horror washing over him as he came to the conclusion that something was very, very wrong. “Wh—Who… are you?”

“Who do you think I am, Wil?” Despite the blood now pouring out of her mouth, her words weren’t garbled at all, Wilbur shaking his head as the horror gave way to dread in the pit of his stomach.

“Cut that out…” He tried to play it off and get back to his feet as the words of—Don't call me that!—got stuck in his throat, then pushing off of the floor with his hands only for her to tightly grab both of his wrists to keep him down on top of her. “L—Let me go! How do you know about me? About Niki?!”

Whoever this was—she most certainly wasn’t Minx, at least not anymore—only giggled, a swirling panic beginning in his stomach as he tried to pull away from her. Her grip was unnaturally strong as it bruised his wrists, no amount of yanking able to break the grip for several long moments until a particularly hard tug got one of his hands free, his arm then swinging wide and smacking one of the girl’s bloodstained cheeks.

“Oww! How dare you raise your hand against a girl… Wil…” Her voice distorted as she giggled again, thick trails of blood starting to leak out of every available orifice of her face: eyes, nose, ears, and even more from her mouth. The skin of Minx’s face began to peel back like burning paper, curling away from the waterfalls of crimson and flaking off in disgusting, bloody patches. A new, blue tinted face was emerging from underneath the peeling, flayed skin—it was young, child-like, and covered in slimy guts and more blood. Whatever was left of Minx disintegrated to the sides as the rest of the young girl’s figure emerged, though half-submerged in the floorboards. Long, dark hair framed the sides of her face, a long red dress covering her body that began to shimmer in the low light of the hallway to make her seem to glow as she grinned up at Wilbur, his mind finally catching up with the carnage surrounding him as the rank smell of death started wafting up from the piled remains and ever growing lake of blood around him. The girl still held onto him, him swallowing back vomit as the two stared at each other, waiting for someone to make a move.

“You… were you always… her?” Wilbur asked, his voice quiet. “...what did you do to Niki?!”

“Now what did I do to her? I remember she wouldn't shut up. She kept chirping 'Wil!', "Wil!', 'Will!', like a bird.” The girl giggled, grinning widely as Wilbur felt the pit of dread growing larger with a renewed sense of disgust. “But she's not chirping anymore! Wanna see for yourself?”

"No… no! No, that can't be!" Wilbur finally tried to struggle to get away from her again, only to realize this girl was much stronger than she appeared—and even stronger than earlier. “You’re full of shit!”

“I've been watching you, you know. I like you. You've got promise.” Her grip on his wrists seemed to get even tighter, almost painful enough to distract from what she was saying. “People like you do show up from time to time. Freaks of nature who have a real affinity for this place.”

“What are you trying to say?” Wilbur demanded, something in her tone making him uneasy. “What… What the hell are you planning to do with me?!”

“You scared?” She teased, him struggling harder and causing her to pull him closer to where she laid, halfway in the floor. “That's understandable. But the thing is, I get you! You're not afraid of people dying. You're afraid of you dying.”

“Fuck off! Let go of me! I… I…!” Wilbur couldn’t find the words to refute her point, disliking the giggle she let slip.

“Sure. I'll let you go. Maybe I’ll even let you find the person you've been looking for all this time.” The girl actually let go of him, Wilbur looking down at the strange, hand-shaped bruises on his wrists before looking back up at the girl in surprise.

Is this a dream? Or have I just completely lost it at this point? Either way… I need to see Niki. 

She's alive. She has to be! Niki… I'm coming for you!

“On second thought, I don’t think I will.” The girl suddenly changed her mind, reaching up to grab him by his upper arms with a vengeful sneer. “I’ll have more fun with you this way.”

Before Wilbur could even struggle this time, she fell back through the floor and yanked him with her, his head smacking hard off the floor as he then felt himself slowly drifting into unconsciousness.

“—ke up. Wake up!”

...! Niki?! No… It's a younger voice. Who is it?

Wilbur’s head pounded as the young voice yelled at him, blearily peeling his eyes open and lifting his head only to hiss and let his eyes fall shut again as his head thudded back into his chest.

Ow…

“Hey, mister. Wake up.”

The headache was slowly subsiding to a dull ache, Wilbur being a little more careful this time as he slowly lifted his head, cracking his eyes open a fraction and seeing nothing but dull blurs of color. 

“...wh—where… am I?” His voice sounded lifeless and far away, trying to force himself to focus through a thick, dark fog that was settling in his mind.

“Good morning, mister. This is my playroom.” The young voice giggled a little as Wilbur finally managed to get the face in front of him to come into focus. A spike of pain shot through the fog as he thought for a fleeting moment she looked familiar, but everything before he woke up was still a mushy mess. She was clearly young, no older than a primary school student, inching her face closer and blocking his view of the still blurry room behind her. Her hair was dark and a little shaggy, falling in front of her decently cute round face and wide smile, but he was forced to turn his head as the permeating smell of blood and decay from her breath clogged up his nose. The rest of the room didn’t smell much better, stinking of death and antiseptic, but it was all he could do to cling onto the consciousness he had managed to gain.

“Who are you?” Wilbur asked slowly, the words sounding foreign on his tongue as he tried to keep looking away from her until she finally backed away from him.

“I'm so happy!” The girl happily bounced between her feet, the red dress she wore swinging back and forth from the excited movement. “You didn't get all indignant and demand, 'what's going on here?!'. Normally when people wake up here, they get scared and start freaking out.”

The room reeked for a good reason. Buckets of blood and entrails lined both of the walls he could see, chunks of flesh bobbing like ice cubes in some of the buckets. The girl was blocking a large table in the middle of the room, but it looked like it was made of old, rotting wood and stained with about as much blood as the buckets contained—its purpose not hard to guess. Despite the buckets of bodies and odd chain contraptions hanging from the ceiling, as soon as he was relatively adjusted to the awful smell of the room he realized it didn’t freak him out as much as he expected, the panic just a dull pulsing beneath the heavy fog still settled in his entire body.

Wilbur himself was seated in a wooden school chair against one of the walls, his hands both bound separately to the back two legs of the chair with a coarse rope. He didn’t even bother trying to tug against them, instead dragging his gaze back up to the girl as she spoke again.

“My name… is Sachiko Shinozaki!” The girl introduced, curtseying politely by grabbing the hem of her dress and smiling ear to ear.

“What do you plan to do with me?” He asked, though it felt rhetorical after getting a picture of what this room was clearly used for. “Are you… going to kill me?” 

“What a question!” Sachiko beamed, Wilbur watching as she shrugged comically and all but skipped over to the table in the middle she’d been standing in front of the whole time. “I'm just not sure. I'll decide later! I've got something else to play with first.”

An unfamiliar figure—clearly tall and lanky—laid on top of the table, wide straps pinning his body down against the creaking wood as his chest rose and fell rapidly in palpable fear. His eyes were wide as they watched Sachiko’s every move behind the long hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Sachiko smiled sweetly down at him, running a hand up one of his legs as he tensed even further—if that was at all possible.

“His name… is Ranboo.”

“N—No… stop… please… please, whatever this is, don’t!” The boy was pleading, not even seeming to notice Wilbur as he tried to move away from Sachiko even the tiniest bit.

“No way! You're about to be put through some incredible pain.” Sachiko grabbed his face with both hands, grinning as he tried to shake his head and pull away. “So make sure you squirm like the wretch you are and beg me to spare your life, okay?”

“No!” Ranboo was clearly too scared to even struggle, his body frozen as he continued to mumble. “…no… you—you're joking, right? I didn't… I didn't do anything…” 

“Shut the hell up! You're distracting me!” Sachiko admonished, smacking him across the face to leave a tiny red handprint on one of his cheeks. The sting of the impact seemed to bring him back to his senses a little bit, and Wilbur felt himself almost entranced as he watched the boy pull against the straps holding him down to the table as if his life depended on it—because in this case it probably did. “There we are! Come on, don’t look so excited! The real pain is just about to start, you know!”

Sachiko pulled a pair of scissors out from behind her—More like out of her ass—and began to cut up through the shirt he had on under the already open hoodie, exposing his stomach to the cold air of the basement.

“Ahh! No! Please, no!” His breathing became incredibly shallow at the closeness of the weapon to his body, his hands shaking from where they were pinned to the table. “This is a dream… this has to be some kind of crazy, horrible dream…!”

“I can't say if you're awake or if you're dreaming… but you're about to find out!” Sachiko giggled as she opened the scissors as wide as they could go, positioning the point directly above his stomach as he seemed to hold his breath and panicked tears began to pile up in the corners of his eyes. “What a perfect facial expression! See, I knew you could do it.”

The slightly rusty pair of scissors didn’t cut through his flesh cleanly at all, blood bubbling around the blade as Ranboo screamed and feebly trashed against the table. His voice was panicked and fearful, pained in a way that normally would’ve set Wilbur’s stomach on edge. Brown flakes of rust swirled into the blood as Sachiko yanked the open scissors across the length of his body, the skin of his stomach splitting open with a rush of blood and another near inhuman screech of agony.

Wilbur found himself transfixed, traces of vomit consisting only of stomach acid crawling back down his throat as his eyes focused in on every detail. The edges of the cut were jagged, the skin peeling back from the layer of spasming muscle beneath, Ranboo barely seeming to breathe as a pained fog clouded over his eyes that then stared blankly off at one of the body lined walls. Wilbur felt his breathing hitch.

Why is it so… His thoughts were muddled and incoherent in the dark cloud of his mind, unable to look away or think any harder.

Sachiko stabbed the scissors deeper, another scream ripping out of shredded vocal chords as the cut deepened through the muscle to expose a pulsating mess of internal organs below. She then suddenly lit up, prying the two sides of the wound impossibly further apart to shove her face straight into his stomach.

Whatever scream that planned to erupt from the boy strangled off into a sob, Wilbur watching as the dim lights of the room reflected in every tear that streamed down his face.

“Ihhn't he phwtty?”

Wilbur blinked out of his trance, seeing Sachiko’s bloody face rip back out of Ranboo’s stomach, the spongy hose of his intestines clamped between her small teeth in a surprisingly childish smile. Any words Wilbur had were lodged just out of reach in his throat, his twisted glee instead forming a dark grin that split his face.

Sachiko spit the guts out with a rather disgusting squelching sound, an equally feral grin on her face as she moved to wipe some dripping blood out of her eyes but only serving to smear it around. 

“So how about it? Do you want to play with him too?”

Don’t be ridiculous. 

The dark mist in Wilbur’s mind finally settled on a single, coherent train of thought, him straining forward against the rope with a haggard breath of excitement. 

She shouldn’t even have to ask.

[innocent-artery]

Hi!! Is it at all possible to request a Fred Weasley x reader please? Set in the order of the phoenix where umbridge is the professor and she implements the rule of “boys and girls must not be within 8 inches of each other” (I think it’s something like that) Fred and the reader sneak around and find ways of getting around this rule ;) A mixture of fluff and smut if that’s okay? Thank you! Xx

Yes love, thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry this took so long. This is such an adorable prompt and I loved writing it! I hope I made it to your liking!

Touch Deprivation

2.4k words

Summary: The above request, basically

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to secret hiding spot kinda love , a spotify playlist by me!

~

You were always a quite tactile person, however selective you may be when it comes to with whom you share prolonged touch.

So when the most wretched teacher ever to roam the earth becomes part of yours and your boyfriend's daily lives, you had to figure out more clever ways to work around it.

Hiding in the library came to be one of your favorite alternatives, finding a small corner in a section from which few people would read. This is where the two of you sat now- on the floor, leaned up against the wall and on each other. Your head rest perfectly in the crook between Fred's collar and jaw, and his hands were playing mindlessly with one of yours. You were regaling him with a story you'd been told by one of your friends when you heard a voice you had come to despise with a fiery passion- the shrill, sugar-coated trill of Dolores Umbridge.

Fred groaned, his head falling back. When it flopped back, he tapped your shoulder, signaling that you needed to move.

"I don't want to." You whined. "Let the old bat put us in detention, I don't care at this point."

He chuckled at the irony of your statement. His mind was thinking exactly what she was saying. "I know, neither do I, but I'm not letting you land detention."

You gave him a look, but agreed with a sigh, heaving to your feet to move to sit at one of the desks lining the shelves, your schoolwork set out ahead of time so that you appeared to actually be working should she pass by. Fred shuffled to the other side of the bookstack just as the bullfrog of a woman strutted by, pink claws folded neatly over her wand and lips pursed. You pretended to be reading your textbook, watching her subtly through peripheral vision. She glanced over at you, but said nothing and continued walking.

You waited until the even click of her heels faded from the library. You exhaled the breath you weren't aware you had held in. There was a shuffle of robes, and a head sporting a tangerine mop of hair and mischievous eyes popped out from the end of the bookstack. Fred's head seemed to float, as the rest of his body was hidden. You giggled, standing up from the desk as his body joined his head and headed towards you.

"Now, where were we?" He cooed, wrapping his arms around your body, his hands joined on your lower back.

You rested your forehead on his chest, taking note of his heartbeat for a few moments. "How long are we going to have to keep sneaking around like this?"

He sighed. "I don't know. But we'll get through it, yeah? Once we graduate we won't have to worry about it." He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

. . .

Although he did make the effort to avoid landing you in detention, he couldn't care less if he landed himself. Neither did he care to stop sneaking around with you. And knowing Fred, it was always at the most random times.

One chilly December evening, about a half hour before student curfew, you found yourself heading through the dimly lit corridor towards your common room. There were only a few students here and there, considering Christmas break had just begun, but the hallway was pretty much empty. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary until you found yourself being yanked back, your captor placing one hand over your mouth and the other around your waist, dragging you into a dark and tiny room. A broom closet, you noticed. Once the hand was pulled from your face you inhaled a familiar, musky scent. One you had become very familiar with: the smell of-

"Fred Weasley!" You hissed, turning around. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark just well enough to see the outline of the grinning boy.

"That's right." He paid no heed to your shock.

You immediately began smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again!"

Fred had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at your feeble attempt to scold him. "Okay, okay, okay! Merlin, feisty thing, aren't you?"

You simply folded your arms and glared at him. You'd long forgiven him, so he knew there was no real anger behind your eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, love." Fred wrapped his arms around you. He still wore his signature grin as he murmured, "Can you forgive me?"

You fiddled with the collar of his robes. "I suppose so." You grumbled, though you couldn't help the smile tugging your lips thinner.

"Good." And he kissed you, gently and full of love. You responded quickly, tugging on his robes to bring him closer. Your pulling him closer always seemed to light a fire in him, eliciting a more desperate and aggressive manner. He cupped the back of your neck, his other hand slithering up your waist.

The moment created somewhat of a fog in your brain, so full of need for him. So it was understandable, the surprise in you when Fred suddenly pulled away, stopped for a second as if listening, then turned his head back and forth frantically as if looking for something, his hair flopping against his cheeks in a quite doglike manner.

"Fred, what-"

"Quick, hide." He ushered you into a nook in the corner of the closet, throwing a few items from a Quidditch uniform over your hunched figure and further hiding you by propping a few brooms up against you carefully.

Just as he had finished, the door to the closet had opened. Even behind the cloth you could see warm light flooding the small room, and hear a familiar clack of heels stepping furiously.

"Mister Weasley! I should have known. Step out of the closet this instant!" Came the bark of none other than Dolores Umbridge.

You remained as still as possible, though you couldn't help the pang of guilt. He spent all his time hiding you, because he knew he couldn't hide the both of you in time. You listened to the sound of receding footsteps and the teacher's scolding.

When you heard nothing, you tentatively stood, ensuring that the brooms did not fall outward and make noise. You removed the Quidditch robes (thank Godric they had been cleaned) and checked your watch. You still had ten minutes to get to the common room. You tiptoed out, falling into as casual of a stride as you could muster once you were far enough away from the crime scene.

Damn it Fred.

. . .

It had been three days later, and Fred was currently serving detention with Professor McGonagall. You were grateful that she was the head of Gryffindor house and thus in charge of deciding his punishment- though she was no less strict, she was kinder.

You were up in your dormitory, sprawled out on the bed reading one of your favorite muggle fiction books. It was unusually quiet, since your dormmates had all gone home. While you wanted to relish in the quiet and your book, your brain seemed to wander over to Fred with every other page.

Just as the boy crossed your mind for the umpteenth time, a knock on your window startled you. You almost threw the book across the room in fright. It only took a split second to figure out who it was. You hurriedly dog-eared your page and slammed it shut, marching over to the window and seeing a familiar, lanky Beater wearing not enough clothing for the frigid December and a smile.

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside so that he might float into the room. After having closed the door, you turned to him. Your annoyance melted away and was replaced with a pitying worry at the sight of him. He was shivering, a jumper and jeans not enough to shield him from the cold. His pale face was a stark contrast to the pink tinting his cheeks and nose.

"Come here." You pulled him by the hand to sit on the bed, covering his figure in a blanket. "You really couldn't have come in any other way?"

He shrugged. "Well, no. All of the doors are spelled so that Umbridge can monitor who comes and leaves where. That's how she found us out so quickly. But she didn't check the windows." He winked.

You chewed your lip for a moment. "How'd she not suspect I was there too?"

He shrugged again. "I'm a Quidditch player in the closet where she keeps all the brooms locked up. That's enough of a coincidence that I suppose she didn't need anything else." He glanced over at you, noting the worry and guilt in your eyes. "Hey, it's okay. McGonagall was nice to me this time, I'm all right."

"I know." You flopped onto your back, the bed bouncing underneath your weight. "It's just not an ideal circumstance."

"It isn't" He agreed. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"

You nodded.

"Then everything's going to be all right." He grinned, shifting so that he was hovering over you a bit more. "Now, where were we?"

You laughed as he started giving lazy kisses to your neck. "'S that all you came here to do?"

He looked up, a gleam of humor in his eyes. "'Course not. But I always finish what I start."

His mouth found yours, kissing with just as much if not more adoration and fervor than when the two of you were in the broom closet. His fingers tugged at your waist, setting your skin on fire with the contrast of heat. Though he'd warmed up quickly, his hands were still a bit cold.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" He mumbled, back to mouthing at your neck, down to your collarbone.

"Yes, but you could stand to say it more." You spoke softly, smiling.

He chuckled, fingers toying with the drawstrings of your sweatpants. "Godric, I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too." You breathed, running your hands up his arms to his shoulders. You couldn't deny that you loved those arms, toned from hours and hours of Beating practice. You felt a tap on your hip, signaling for you to lift them. Obliging, Fred dragged the sweatpants down your legs, hooking your underwear along with it so your lower half was entirely naked to him.

Fred stared at you for a while, making you nervous under his eyes. "Gorgeous," he muttered, partially to himself, before grasping the flesh of your thighs with each hand, kneading for a moment before pulling them apart. He seemed more touchy than usual, fingers splayed so as to touch as much of you at once as he could.

Fred was always fascinated with your thighs. His hands always lay there when he went down on you and even outside of the bedroom he liked to squeeze your thigh affectionately or lay on them.

"Look at how pretty you are, pet. All laid out and spread open." With hooded eyes still holding contact with yours, you felt one hand slither closer and closer to where you ached for him.

"Only for you." These three words made his teasing hand lose patience, and suddenly he was cupping your pussy, running an index finger through your slick. Your back arched at the sensation, hips lifting up the bed to follow his motion.

"Only for me, hm? Is that right?"

You nodded, not being able to open your mouth on account of knowing that you'd be so embarrassingly whiny if you had. His fingertip was circling the rim of your cunt, just enough to stimulate you but so slowly and shallowly that it wasn't enough.

"Words, love." Fred's hand stilled.

"Yes, yes, only for you." You breathed, pitch rising. When he heard this, he dipped his finger in your cunt with ease, curling and massaging that one spot that had moans being coaxed out of you.

"That's right, sweet thing." He groaned in your ear. "Such a good girl, yeah?"

"Mhm." Was all you could muster, stuttered when he added a second finger. The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

His thumb finding your clit, however, was what really did it for you. As soon as he began rubbing circles into you, you had to slap your hand over your mouth to keep from being so loud.

Naturally, Fred wasn't having that. "Hand off, sweetheart. I want to hear your pretty moans loud and clear." His free hand left its place massaging your ass up to your hand, gently tugging your wrist.

You were hesitant, brain foggy as your high was building quickly. Nonetheless you let him pull your hand down, still distracted by what his other hand was doing. You were just on the brink, getting louder and fuzzier until it- or rather, you- came. Your body was overwhelmed at the sensation, throbbing and weeping cunt spasming around his fingers, which worked you through your high. Both hands wrapped around his wrist in instinct, a small fear from previous endeavors that he would pull away before you came. Your eyes were screwed shut, the only thing comprehensible was the intense pleasure radiating from your core and the sweet things Fred was muttering to you.

"There you go, let go f'me pretty girl. Did so good." He whispered, kissing your temple.

When the pleasure had subsided and been replaced with overstimulation, you squirmed and pushed his hand away. You took a second to breathe, watching through half-open eyes as Fred licked his dripping fingers clean.

Just watching him do that was a sight in and of itself. Shakily, you tried to sit up.

"Your turn," you told him, fumbling with the button of his jeans. Were his pants always this difficult to open?

Noticing your blurry state, he chuckled, pulling you back. "Hey, hey. You're sleepy, you don't have to."

You pouted. "But I want to."

He kissed your nose. "I know. And I'll be glad to let you in the morning, when you've rested. You're too fucked out right now, bunny."

You huffed, but secretly thanked him. He pecked your nose again before leaving and coming back with a small towel soaked in warm water. You allowed him to clean you, already becoming bleary and heavy.

By the time he had gotten back and crawled under the covers, you were barely conscious. The last thing you registered was a kiss on the top of your head and a sweet "goodnight".

~

[randomshyperson]

Palm Springs - Leigh Shaw

All Works Masterlist

Summary: In Palm Springs, Leigh meets you. The season one finale re-imagined.

Warnings: (+18), smut, cursing, dom!reader, bottom!leigh, explicit language, explicit consent, brief mentions of harassment, fluff, brief rivalry dynamics, hopeful ending.

Words: 5.378K

Notes: My love, @abimess, this is my apologies for you. I kept mistaken "Wanda" instead of "Leigh" at some points in the writing, but it all worked out in the end. I hope you all enjoy the read, this is my first time writing for this character.

//-//

You threw the signed divorce papers against the passenger seat, ignoring the thick tears that welled up in your eyes.

Raising your hand, you turned up the radio and kept driving. Your cell phone started ringing the next moment, but you ignored it. It was probably Bucky or Steve calling to find out where you were after your little outburst at the company fundraiser.

Honestly, it wasn't your fault. You were handling it all very well, but Carol decided it would be a good idea to give you the divorce papers while you were surrounded by your closest friends, and that was the trigger. But now you were driving to Palm Springs, finally taking the damn vacation your ex-wife had put you through so much hell to get, but now, the seat next to you was empty.

It took a few hours to get there, since the complex is in New York, but you didn't care, having spent most of the way trying to understand how you managed to lose a woman like Carol Danvers.

No bags, you ignored the curious look one of the hotel staff gave you as soon as you pulled into the parking lot, smiling slightly as you took off your sunglasses and asked for directions to the front desk.

You frowned slightly as you were almost run over.

"Watch where you're going!" You shouted angrily at the driver, and the woman returned you the same angry look. Great, you've barely arrived and you almost died. This weekend was promising.

Stepping back, you waited for the woman to drive, not failing to give her a wry smile as she passed you. After this, you walked to the reception desk, and the area was quite full, which was normal for a weekend.

"Reservation in the name Danvers." You said to the receptionist after the greetings. He smiled as he checked the information.

"Valentine's suite, I see." He commented cheerfully. "Shall I prepare a second key for your partner?"

"It's just going to be me, buddy." You grumble, ignoring the uneasy feeling in your stomach. The man smiles awkwardly, but doesn't apologize.

After checking in, you go up to the third floor.

The room makes you sigh with disgust, the flowers and chocolates give you a headache. It takes ten minutes to find a chambermaid and ask her to remove all the decorations.

While your room is being cleaned, you decide to buy something to wear, since you didn't bring anything to spend the weekend at the hotel.

"Good morning." You mumble the greeting as you enter the gift store, your gaze wandering around.

"How can I help you, dear?" The saleswoman asks politely, smiling at you.

"I need something to wear for the two days I'm staying. It was a last-minute trip." You tell her, and the saleswoman looks surprised, but doesn't comment.

The woman eventually showed you the summer shirt section, and you sighed softly as you looked through the options. She walked away to attend to another customer, and you left your attention to the clothes.

A moment later, you picked out a few pieces and turned to talk to the saleswoman, only to run into the woman who had almost run you over earlier looking at the book section.

"You again." You let it slip not so low, attracting the woman's attention. She frowns for a second, and then she recognizes you. But before she can say anything, the saleswoman is speaking.

"Oh, you two know each other already?" She asks excitedly. "It's amazing how we can find friends here in Palm Springs isn't it?"

"We're not friends." You both inform at the same moment, and you squeeze your eyes shut slightly. The woman straightens her posture, pressing the book lightly against her chest as you switch the shirts on your arm. The saleswoman's curious expression prompts you to speak.

"Actually, she almost killed me." You say. "It was going to be quite a headline for this hotel. I'd be careful about the people you guys host around here."

The saleswoman looks at you with confusion, while the other woman lets out a dry laugh.

"You're the one who walked across in the middle of the street!" she defends herself. "It's not my fault if you weren't taught how to cross the street in school."

"Oh, so it's the victim's fault now?" You retort and the woman looks at you incredulously. A third customer enters the store and stares curiously at the argument, but the saleswoman is quick to gesture between you, smiling wryly.

"Oh come on, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding" The saleswoman remarks and you sustain the annoyed look the other woman is casting at you. "There's no need for an argument."

"Of course not." The woman says forcing a smile, but her posture remains aggressive. "We are both civilized adults."

You bite your tongue to avoid another provocation, looking away from the green irises in front of you.

"Of course you are." The saleswoman says smiling, and then her gaze catches the shirts hanging from your forearm and she lets out a light exclamation. "Come on, I can finalize your purchase if that's all, dear."

You turn toward the cashier next, and it is only after you have paid for the clothes and are leaving that you see the other woman again on your way back, but she does not look away from the books to you. You couldn't care less.

//-//

In your room, you can't resist the urge to look at your phone.

Bucky has called five times. And Steve even sent you an email. You sigh weakly, feeling guilty as you catch a glimpse of Tony and Natasha's message notifications.

Your friends didn't care that you started crying in the middle of the meeting you were at because your ex-wife decided to bring a sensitive topic like the end of your five-year marriage to the table, but you were hating yourself for it.

At this point, you didn't even know what you had been crying about anymore. You and Carol had always had a difficult relationship, and since you got married, you began to wonder why you had done it in the first place.

You loved her so much when you first met her, and then everything gradually broke down. The lack of compatibility, the jealousy and possessiveness, and the lack of time. Carol was a soldier in the army, and you were a Shield special agent, and your jobs took up a lot of your schedules. But you knew that this was just another empty excuse. After all, your best friend, Natasha, was also an agent, as was her wife, and they made everything work properly.

Maybe things were meant to happen that way. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

After taking a shower, you grumble lightly as you realize that you forgot to buy a bathing suit. And well, everything special about Palm Springs was the magnificent pools.

You figured the shorts and top you had would have to fit.

The pools were considerably more crowded than the rest of the hotel, and this was probably due to the current temperature.

You decided to buy a drink before sunbathing, realizing that most of the chairs were occupied.

The bartender was a pretty girl and smiled mischievously at you when her gaze fell on your collarbone exposed by the cut of your shirt, but you just gave her a half-hearted smile. Being newly divorced wasn't exactly the best scenario for flirting.

"What can I get you?" The woman asked as she rested her hands on the counter in front of her. You bit your lip thoughtfully, running your eyes down one of the menus left on the wood.

"Honestly, I don't know anything here." You say. "But I would like something sweet."

It takes a few minutes for her to prepare a drink for you, and you thank her as you accept.

As you sip a drink that tastes like strawberries and condensed milk, you look around the surroundings.

You frown slightly as you recognize the woman from the store, watching her sit in one of the chairs that has just been emptied in front of the bar. She doesn't notice you, but you notice her exposed legs, mentally scolding yourself for doing so.

As you take another sip of your drink, your tongue getting used to the sugary sweetness, a man approaches the stranger in front of you. From this proximity, you can hear the conversation, or rather the small harassment that he was doing.

Rolling your eyes at the stranger's clearly offensive attempt to approach the other woman, you force yourself to get up and walk over to them.

Well, Nat always said that you were a person with a natural talent for theater and you wish she were here now to see the little scene you caused.

Pretending to trip over the sunshade support, you made a sudden movement and knocked your entire drink against the man's collarbone, who let out an exclamation of anger and surprise as he stood up.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You asked in a falsely guilty tone, forcing an expression of shock. Before he could say anything, you were already grabbing one of the towels left on the little tables beside the chairs and throwing it harder than necessary against the man's face. "Here, honey, clean yourself up."

The man blinked in surprise, and glared angrily at you for a second before muttering "whatever" and turning to leave. When he was already a safe distance away, you turned your face to look at the seated woman.

"Sorry about your book." You speak as you notice that the spilled drink has dripped a little on the pages. "But if you ask me, the ending sucks."

"Thanks, I guess." The woman mumbles not keeping her gaze on you. "I didn't need you to help me, by the way." She adds and you roll your eyes, realizing that the chair next to her got empty after your little commotion. When you sit down, she raises her gaze to you in disbelief.

"Who said I was helping you?" You retort. "I love throwing expensive drinks at strangers."

Your joke elicits a nasal chuckle from the woman, who softens her posture.

"If you want to lose money, I suggest donating rather than wasting it." She teases back and you bite back a smile, shaking your head slightly. When she opens the book again and leans her back against the chair, clearly deciding to ignore your presence, you copy the position, but stand with your arms folded across your chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun against your skin.

You are tired from the trip, and eventually fall asleep. When you open your eyes again, the woman is no longer there.

//-//

Since you have napped until the afternoon, there is no chance you will sleep early. You try to distract yourself with television, but most of the programs are pay-per-view and you have probably already exceeded all the limits that a Shield salary can afford, so you decide to spend some time on the activities included in your weekend bundle.

After putting on a shirt to join the lobby, you take the elevator down and step out into the outdoor area, not surprised to find the place as busy as before. The difference is perhaps the lack of children because of the time of day.

You walk toward the bar and roll your eyes slightly when you notice the same man as before being loud and boisterous along with a small group partying near the place. But you ignore them as you sit down on the first stool you find.

"Well, if it isn't my knight in white armor." A female voice comments wryly beside you, surprising you mildly. You look at the woman with a raised eyebrow, but she is looking straight ahead.

"So you expect me to call you a princess? We don't even know each other." You retort in the same tone, and watch the woman bite back a smile, rolling her eyes slightly.

You stand in silence while you order a drink, this time smiling in the same way that the bartender smiles at you. While you wait, you can' t help but look over to the side.

"You know, I think I might need to get your name." You begin in a tone of false seriousness, not knowing why you want to pull conversation with the stranger, but doing it anyway. "Since I need to know who to sue for attempted hit-and-run."

The woman laughs lightly, and as she sets her drinking glass back down on the counter, she turns her body toward you, without getting up.

"The smart thing then wouldn't be to say my name, don't you think?" She retorts with amusement in her voice. "That way I avoid a lawsuit."

You smile in a corner, shaking your head slightly. You lean your arm on the counter, and it takes a moment for her to speak again.

"I'm Leigh."

"No last name so I can't find your ID, right?" You tease and she smiles, licking her lips for a moment. "Well, I won't tell you mine either then." You comment before telling her only your first name, and she laughs lightly. "May I at least know your profession? Or, I don't know, where you're from? I need that information to track you down."

You joke, and Leigh makes a thoughtful expression for a moment.

"I'm from everywhere actually." She says mysteriously. "Because I'm an international jewel thief."

You smile at the mixed tone of seriousness and playfulness in her speech, respecting her right not to want to tell you the truth, and acknowledging the identity she chooses to assume.

"Oh, really?" You ask joining in the joke. "And let me guess, your disguise happens to be as a fashion stylist, right? And you have a red motorcycle and deadly poison hidden in your lipstick?"

Leigh holds back her laughter, nodding.

"I can't confirm any of that information, actually." She says. "After all, a little incident happened and I wasn't able to finish the story."

You laugh at the teasing, taking a sip of your drink. Before the moment of silence lasts any longer, you ask if you can approach. When Leigh consents, you take the seat next to her.

"And what do you do?" she asks as soon as you sit down. You clear your throat lightly.

"I'm a secret agent, actually." You tell her and from the woman's expression, she still believes you are joking. You do not correct yourself however. "Lasers and villains, the whole story."

Leigh smiles, murmuring in understanding.

"And what is a secret agent doing in Palm Springs?" She asks next and you assume a dramatically thoughtful expression.

"I got a hint actually." You reply. "A jewel thief, fugitive from the government. I'm trying to gather information to effect her arrest."

Leigh fakes an expression of horror making you laugh.

"If I see anything suspicious, I'll give you a heads up." She jokes and you smile, enjoying the whole thing. Before you can add anything else, the small group next to the bar let out loud laughter and they attract your and Leigh's attention.

You frown slightly when you witness the guy from earlier whistling at one of the hotel staff, the people with him finding his little scene of harassment funny.

"I guess a drink in the face isn't enough for some idiots." You comment and Leigh sighs mildly. She looks at you at the same moment you look at her.

"Maybe more drinks will be enough."

That's how you end up doing a little mischief that involves distracting the stranger with comments about his muscles while Leigh approaches and manages to get the man's card. When you walk away, after she hands the bartender the hotel ID after ordering a round for everyone at the bar on the stranger's behalf, you were laughing.

"I'm beginning to believe your thief story." You amused comment as soon as you and Leigh reach the trail out of the bar area. She just smiles at your words. You clear your throat next. "I guess I need to show off my secret agent skills then."

Leigh looks at you curiously, but you just smile as you nod in the direction of the gardens.

You walk for a few minutes in silence, and you remember everything you have observed since you arrived at the hotel, and are able to find the small opening in the fence that you saw some staff members pass through in the afternoon.

"Please, milady." You joke as you make room for Leigh to cross the path first, and she rolls her eyes with amusement before doing so.

You end up in some kind of unfinished private garden, but one that is still very pretty.

Perhaps it is an area under construction for some kind of party, as it has a stage set up in the center and some folded chairs scattered about.

Your attention falls immediately to the piano that has also been set up high on the dark stage.

"How did you find this place?" Leigh asks as she looks around, and you walk past her to get on the stage, eliciting a giggle.

"Field study, of course." You reply with false seriousness. " A secret agent never goes anywhere without studying the whole place first."

Leigh murmurs in agreement, deciding to follow you to the stage. You take a seat on the piano bench while she remains standing in front of the organ.

"Do you have any requests?" You ask looking down at your fingers as she studies your face.

"Old Mac Donald had a Farm." She replies and you choke on a laugh.

"And I thought your taste in music was as good as your fashion sense." You tease causing her to raise an eyebrow.

"Is that your way of complimenting what I'm wearing?" She retorts but you just bite back a smile, moving your fingers across the keys.

You decide to play a melody that she may not recognize, but is exactly what you feel you should play.

When the first notes of " Spring - Ludovico Einaudi" echo in the room, Leigh looks at you in surprise, but you just smile.

It takes a moment for her to surround the piano, and to sit down next to you. You continue to play, enjoying the sound and concentrating not to misplay the notes.

When you make a particularly fast movement on the piano, Leigh looks at you impressed, but you just push your shoulder lightly against hers, smiling. Neither of you regains the distance from before, and you continue to play.

When you finish, you are silent for a moment.

"Where did you learn to do that?" She asks in her low, impressed tone as you both look down at your hands on the keys. You sigh slightly, moving your fingers away and placing your hands in your lap.

"I used to play when I was a kid." You reply. "Before I was a secret agent, of course."

Leigh smiles, biting her lips lightly. You look away from the movement, to her hands quickly.

"Let me show you." You whisper as you reach out your hand to hers. When she accepts, you position her fingers on the keys, and then fit your hand on top of hers. "You start like this."

The sound is far from perfect, and Leigh laughs every time she misses a note, so you don't really care.

You stay like this for a few minutes, until you can get her to complete five notes without making a mistake.

"See? You' re almost a pianist already." You comment with a smile, looking at her face. She mimics your movement, and you feel your heart skip a beat from the closeness.

You feel the tension build in the room, but before you can think of doing anything, a male voice is breaking the spell.

"Sorry, but this area is for employees only." Informs the young man from the hotel, seeming slightly embarrassed to interrupt. You and Leigh quickly walk away, standing up and muttering an apology in unison to the guy, who waits until you leave by the trail he guides.

When you reach the entrance to the social area again, the employee closes the gate, waving slightly. You and Leigh exchange amused smiles.

"So... what do you want to do now?" You ask the next moment, wanting to prolong the evening.

"I want to swim." She declares and you frown slightly, then shrug. You nod in the direction of the pools and you exchange a glance before starting to walk.

//-//

At the edge of the pool, you sigh slightly.

You exchange a look with Leigh, standing next to you, and then you laugh softly as you both begin to undress.

You can't resist the urge to look at her, especially since she jumps in first and you catch a glimpse of her body covered only by a bikini. Ignoring your uncompensated heartbeat, you jump into the water next.

It's a good thing the water was cold, because you are feeling your face and body heat up at the way Leigh looks at you.

Trying to lighten the mood, you swim around her, casually meeting her gaze again as she mimics the movement.

You laugh lightly when you realize that you are swimming in circles around each other, and decide to stop. Leigh swims in front of you a moment later.

"Hello, superspy." She greets you almost in a whisper waving her arms to continue on the surface in front of you.

"Hello, international thief." You speak back in the same tone, your gazes locked on each other.

You wonder if she would like you to break the distance, as her gaze has lowered to your lips for a few seconds. But before you can surrender to this urge, she takes a step back.

"I'm cold."

And then she swims away, and you wonder if you have taken the whole thing the wrong way.

Following her a little way back, you look for towels.

//-//

"Which floor are you on?" You ask as you reach the elevators, each with a towel around your body. You watch Leigh tighten her arms against herself slightly.

"Second." She replies half-heartedly, and you nod.

"Let's go together then."

She gets into the elevator first, and after she presses the button, you stand next to her, your back against the wall.

The tension is back the moment the doors close, but after the pool, you find it best not to take any action, not wishing to make Leigh uncomfortable.

You reach her floor a moment later, and when she doesn't leave, you hold your breath.

You risk a corner-of-your-eye glance at her, but she continues to stare straight ahead, sighing slightly.

Trying not to look like a complete mess, you wait for your floor to arrive.

//-//

The way down the hallway is silent, and despite your nervousness, you don't fumble to open your room.

Leigh enters first, and strides into the room as you close the door.

She stops in the center, her gaze scanning around for a moment before returning to you. You hold your breath, and then she lets the set of clothes in her hands fall to the floor.

You bite back a smile, mimicking the movement. Taking a deep breath, you do the same with your towel, and ignore the heat in your cheeks as Leigh's gaze descends to your body covered only by your underwear.

She removes the towel at your waist next, and you stare at her exposed legs for a moment before moving slowly toward her.

You smile shyly as you stop in front of her, and it takes a second for you to slowly lift your fingers to touch her, tracing the outline of her arm and watching her skin shiver.

"Everything okay?" You ask softly raising your gaze from where your fingers were touching to her eyes. Leigh sighs, shaking her head in agreement. You give her a short smile, placing your hand on her cheek, and watching her lean into the touch slightly. "Use your words." You ask in a whisper, your other hand repeating the motion of your fingers from before, even more slowly.

"Y-yes." She confirms half breathlessly. "And you?"

"Yes." You say, your hand reaching for the strap of her bikini. "I'm going to kiss you now, Leigh."

She nods in understanding, sighing heavily. You didn't correctly calculate how attracted you were to her, because the moment your lips touched, you felt your head spin and it was hard not to push her against the bed immediately.

You both sigh against the kiss, and you slide your tongue into her mouth next, your hand on her face running down to her neck, deepening the kiss even more.

Leigh seems hesitant to touch you for the first second, but then she gasps against your tongue, and brings her hands to your shoulders, bringing one of them up to the back of your neck and scratching the skin, making you sigh.

With the hand that was on the bikini strap, you use your fingers to pull the strap down, and with the other hand you repeat the movement on the other side. When the bikini falls to the floor, your hands go down to her waist, and you pull her toward you.

Leigh gasps at the contact of your breasts bumping together, breaking the kiss with a wet sigh, and you take the opportunity to move your mouth down her collarbone, enjoying the sounds you manage to get out of her whenever you bite her sensitive skin softly.

You lean against her to lower your kisses to her breasts, and when your mouth finds the hardened nipple, she arches her back, closing her eyes as her fingers force your head forward against her breast.

"Oh." She moans as she feels you suck on her nipple, your other hand moving up to give her other breast due attention, your fingers playing with the tip. " Oh, fuck, that feels good."

You smile against her skin, feeling your core tighten with the sounds you are tearing out of her.

When your hand on her waist moves down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and pressing Leigh's hips against yours as your mouth continues on her breast, she moans loudly as she throws her head back, shuddering against you.

It's enough to make you lose control. You need to know how she tastes.

Gasping, you move your kisses down again, and Leigh holds her breath as you get down on your knees.

You kiss her thighs first, while your hands pull down the fabric of her panties.

When the fabric falls away completely, you swallow dry, your gaze glazed on the exposed intimacy of the woman in front of you, your mouth salivating to taste her.

"I-I'm gonna fall." She comments shyly, and you notice how her knees are already shaky. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up.

You take Leigh by the hand to your bed, and she stands there, making you smile. You move forward against her mouth again, and she sighs, almost losing her balance from the intensity.

"Lie down." You ask between one kiss and another, making her moan softly. "Spread your legs for me."

Leigh gasps against your lips as you slip your fingers through her folds for a moment, before pulling away until she obeys. You bite your lips as you watch her lie down.

Before you join her, you remove the rest of your clothes. Leigh's cheeks redden, but you give her no time to register this, climbing onto the bed with your knee between her legs and kissing her again.

As she begins to squirm beneath you for more friction, you move your kisses down her body.

She closes her eyes when your mouth is at the level of her belly, breathing hard.

When your tongue touches her pussy, you both moan loudly. You are amazed at how wet and hot she feels, the taste filling all your senses. And Leigh bites her lips to stop herself from moaning out in pleasure when your tongue begins to move against her clit, sucking and licking her devotedly and making her whimper.

"F-fuck." She moans breathlessly, her hips thrusting into your mouth. "Yeah...right there... don't stop..."

You lift your hands to her thighs, holding her open. Your own intimacy pulsing from the way Leigh is surrendered to you and the sounds she gives you.

Keeping the strokes of your tongue as deep as you can and being sure to press your clitoris in return, you feel her pussy tighten and Leigh's body begins to quiver in spasms.

"I-I'm... close... fuck..." she begins to whimper disconnected words, long moans escaping her throat. It takes only two more strokes for her to come on your tongue, her moan loud enough to be heard in the next room, but neither of you care.

You drink all of her cum, enjoying the taste and feeling on edge, without even having been touched yet.

Moving up your kisses again, you deposit slow kisses against Leigh's skin, waiting for her to recover from her own orgasm.

When you reach her mouth, she kisses you back with the same intensity.

You just know you're not going to sleep early tonight.

//-//

When you wake up, your bed is empty. You are surprised by this, really.

The night was very good. Much better than any one-night stand you have ever had.

After getting dressed by finding your articles of clothing, you walk to the front desk.

It takes a few minutes to find Leigh, and you frown when you realize from the bag in her hands, the documents, and the car key that she is leaving.

"Wow, you weren't even going to leave a note." You tease as you catch up with her. She is startled by your sudden presence, but forces a smile.

"Look, I'm sorry..." she starts but you shake your head.

"No need." You interrupt by putting your hands in your pockets and shrugging. "It was just one night after all."

"Yes." She reaffirms what you say, staring at you. You hold her gaze, and a long minute later she sighs. "No, it wasn't."

You swallow dryly, watching her. She seems conflicted about something, her expression going from worried to guilty in a few seconds, and then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head before looking at you again.

"I can't." She says, and you sigh lightly. "I just... can't."

"It's okay." You decide to say, ignoring the way your stomach is flipping with nervousness or your heart is racing. "We are civilized adults, aren't we?"

Leigh smiles, and you watch her eyes water for a moment before she quickly hides her emotion. You feel the same way.

" This is a goodbye." Leigh says next, and you look away to the floor, nodding in understanding.

"Goodbye, Leigh. It was nice meeting you." You say as you look at her again, forcing a smile even though your eyes are watering.

She smiles, approaching to kiss your cheek close enough to your lips to make you shiver. She doesn't pull away immediately, raising her mouth to the height of your ear, she whispers "I left a note." and before you can understand what has been said to you, she is gone.

It is only at the end of the day, many hours after she has left, and you are already inside your car that you rummage in your pants pocket looking for the car key that you find the note.

It is a piece torn from the page of the book "Unmoored in milan", the paper stained with drink. In the corner, in cursive letters it is written. "to my favorite secret agent. Leigh Shaw, Los Angeles."

You smiled at the words, and as you were driving back to New York, you wondered how long it would take Natasha to find out Leigh's phone number.

//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

@mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @HELLOALYCIA // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm

// @sxfwap // @table57

[onlyang3ll]

Hello! I was wondering if I could put in a request with drew starkey? Where drew x readers meet cute is in a bookstore? All fluffy and the reader is really shy and she knows who he is so she’s a little anxious?

Nice To Meet You

a/n: OK I love this, and I sure hope I did your request justice. I really loved writing this one. I did not proof read all of it, but I am just exciting to get it uploaded. I could honestly make this into a few parts If some are interested in that. like little events from them meeting while on vacation. so please b kind, and give me more requests for drew or race that you wanna see! LOVE YOU ALLL<3

warnings: NOTHING I guess swearing. just fluff

word count: 1.5k

Being on vacation is fun. Until you run out of books to read. I packed three books for my two week long vacation and my e-reader. But of course I forgot my charger, so now only a week in I need a new book to read while laying out on the beach.

So that is where I am, a cute little indie bookshop in the town of Charleston. My family vacations here every year. As I walked around and eventually found myself looking through the romance section, I picked up a book I have been seeing going around everywhere.  As I was reading the synopsis of the novel, I felt a presence beside me.

A light cough caught my attention, lifting my head. I was met with someone I felt like I recognized, but couldn't figure out how. “If you're thinking about grabbing that book you definitely should. A friend of mine was talking about it the other day.” The man smiled and nodded towards the book in my hands. I gave a smile back, “Yeah, I heard great things, I think I'm gonna grab it.” I normally wont hold conversations long with strangers, even super attractive ones. So I gave a nod and started to walk down farther to look at a different section of the shelf.

Why did I have to be such an introvert? This man, who is breathtaking to look at and seems so familiar, was trying to start a conversation with me I think. And what do I do? Shut it down, because I can't help but be shy.

“Are you looking for a certain book?” The voice of the man spoke again, “I don't work here but it seems like I should with how often I come in.” He let out a small laugh. I turn around to face him, suck it up and just talk to him.

I took in his height, damn he is tall. Then his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. That's when it hit me, this freaking rafe from the show outer banks. I think his name is Drew?

He stood up straight, running a hand through his hair, and cleared his throat. Oh my gosh I have been standing here silent like an idiot. My cheeks flush, how embarrassing. “Sorry, um, no not really searching for one specific book. Just need a good beach read. Here on vacation and I already read through all of my other books I brought along. Well I did bring my e reader too but forgot my charger, so that's really no use to me.” Just then I realize I am rambling and this famous actor doesn't care about my problems, so I just stop talking abruptly.

Social anxiety level is high right now. Like how do you even have a conversion with a famous person. I dont wanna freak him out if I admit that I know him.

He just chuckles a bit, “Oh damn how are you enjoying your vacation so far, besides the fact of running out of books to read?” He teased, playfully. I gave a nervous smile and turned to glance at my shoes, “it's nice, we come every year.” I am trying to look everywhere else besides his face. If I don't make eye contact, maybe I won't make a fool of myself. “Oh nice, I love it here. Currently I am here working.”

I assumed that. They must be filming the next season for the show he stars in. “That is cool,” that sounded rude. To make up for the lack of enthusiasm you smile, holding out your hand, “nice to meet you, i’m yn.” Shit my hand is sweaty, I cant pull it back now, his much larger hand grabs on and gives a little shake. “Drew,” he smiles sweetly at me. “I know,” I mentally slap myself. “I mean, you um look familiar, sorta pieced it together after you just said your name,” I pulled my hand back which he still had a grip on.

Drew smiled, “oh so you watched the show?” he did not sound cocky saying that, like i normally assumed most actors would if they were recognized. I just gave a small nod, then went to look at the book I held in my hands. “Would you wanna maybe grab a coffee with me?” He pointed to the little cafe section of the bookstore. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, having an internal battle with myself. I had no plans for the rest of the day besides laying out, but it has been sprinkling rain on and off all day so that is not very important. But what if i can't seem normal. Or ramble more like I did earlier.

“We could read together and just chat, or not chat. Whatever you want” Drew spoke up again, looking down to watch my facial expressions. I glanced and he was just beaming with this happiness and it sorta made me feel less anxious. “Sure, that sounds nice.” My words came out before I could even think about it anymore.

Maybe it's better it happened that way. Because now thinking about it, I want to create some crazy scenario to be able to leave.

“Let me grab a book, you grab a spot in line for the drinks and I will meet you over there.” He smiles and I nod while making my way to the line.

After we both ordered our drinks, him getting a simple black coffee with two sugars and my order being a hot green tea with lemon. He insisted on paying due to him being the one that invited me to enjoy coffee with him. I did not have the courage to fight back, he paid with a smile and placed his hand on my lower back guiding me to a table along the window.

He seems like a proper gentleman. Then I noticed he grabbed the same book as me. I smiled while taking a seat. “Figured we could read the same book, maybe chat about it.” His smile was so kind, “Yeah that sounds nice..” After taking a sip of my drink, we both got to reading.

It was nice being able to converse with someone about the book and being able to share thoughts and opinions. He is very smart and well spoken. After a while my nerves slowly faded away, and so did the sun. We had been sitting in the bookstore cafe for five hours. Halfway through the book, I look up. “I kept you here for the whole day, I apologize for that..” Drew laughed a bit, setting his book face down and open so he doesn't lose his page.  “No it's okay, I had no other plans, the rain ruined my beach day.” I shrugged.

“Well I am glad it rained, because if it hadn't i wouldn't have been able to meet such a cute girl and convince her to spend her day reading with me” He winked, and smiled. My cheeks instantly turned red.

Before I could say anything else, Drew moves to grab my pen that I had out to annotate the book, and takes a clean napkin writing down something on it. He slides the pen and napkin over. It's his phone number scribbled on it. “Give me a call, text, facetime. Really anything, let's keep this little book club going. I don't want to keep you any longer, can't let you be late for your dinner.” He remembered my dinner reservations with my parents that I mentioned. We both stood up to gather our things.

As we made it out of the bookstore, the rain was not that bad but I flicked open the umbrella I had in my tote bag. “It was really great meeting you, I had a super chill time.” Drew turns to talk to me face to face, smiling. “Me too, thank you again for the drink” He waved it off, “I would love to see you again before you leave, and will be waiting for my phone to ring.” He grabbed onto my hand and brought it to my lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand.

I don’t think I have ever met a guy that is such a gentleman. I smiled, and just nodded. “A lady of very few words, yet I feel like I know exactly what you're thinking,” He teased, dropping my hand gently. “Okay be safe, and have a lovely dinner.” He started to walk backwards, I waved with my free hand that wasn't holding my umbrella. “Goodbye, Drew.. Talk soon.” As he disappeared from my view, I took a glance into my bag to make sure I grabbed everything from the table. I grabbed out my book to use his napkin he gave me with his number on it, and placed it in my book to keep my page book marked.

Taking a glance at the front of the book and rereading the title. ‘People we meet on vacation’

Hmm.. how ironic that is. I laughed to myself and made my way to dinner.