#surprised icon was necessary

[mrsfancyferrari]

Just One Kiss

Summary: You & Charles are just best friends but when he wins in his home for the first time, things might change

Song: Reflections - The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Congratulations to Charles Leclerc for winning in his first home Monaco Grand Prix! This is my first F1 story and I recently started following F1 so please give constructive criticism.

Word count: 2.4k

Your best friend was racing across the last track, and you held your breath, anticipating the outcome. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and shouting as the finish line approached.

As he sprinted towards the end, you could see the determination behind his helmet, the sheer will to win. And then, in a burst of speed, he crossed the finish line, victorious.

The stadium erupted in applause, celebrating his incredible feat of athleticism and the months of hard work and training that had led to this moment.

His victory at the Monaco Grand Prix was not only a personal triumph but also a historical moment for his team. It marked his first win on this iconic track, solidifying his status as a rising star in the world of Formula 1 racing.

The streets of Monte Carlo were filled with joy and excitement as fans and fellow drivers alike celebrated his remarkable achievement.

As you joined in the jubilant celebration, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for your best friend. You had witnessed firsthand the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice he had poured into his career.

From early mornings at the gym to late nights studying data and analyzing race strategies, he had truly given his all.

And now, as you stood among the crowd, you knew that this victory was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey that would undoubtedly lead him to even greater heights in the world of Formula 1 racing.

As soon as he parked close enough, he jumped out of his racing car and ran over to his team with happiness. They embraced him with open arms, their faces beaming with pride and joy.

Together, they celebrated this monumental victory, knowing that it was the result of their collective effort and unwavering support. The atmosphere was electric, and the moment will forever be etched in their memories as a symbol of their shared triumph and unbreakable bond.

You squeezed through the crowd, determined to catch a glimpse of your best friend before he headed for the podium. Finally, you spotted him, his face still flushed with the adrenaline of the race.

You shouted his name, waving your arms to get his attention, and when he saw you, a wide smile spread across his face. He made his way towards you, and in that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride and happiness for his incredible achievement.

As he ran over to you, a surge of joy and excitement overcame both of you. He engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you up off the ground.

You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as the exhilaration of the moment washed over you. The crowd roared in applause, their cheers blending with the sound of your friend's racing heartbeat, creating a symphony of triumph and friendship that echoed through the streets of Monte Carlo.

Placing you back down, you both looked at each other in silence, something you two started doing recently. It was as if words were no longer necessary to understand each other's thoughts and feelings.

"You did it," You whispered, unable to control the tears gushing down your face.

Charles grinned, "Yeah, I did, with you by my side," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and emotion.

While you played with his hair on the back of his head, you smiled back at him.

As if something had possessed you, you quickly leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Charles' lips.

Both of you were shocked by your actions, your eyes widening in surprise as you pulled away from the unexpected kiss.

What have you done?

The atmosphere around you seemed to pause for a moment, as if time itself had frozen, before the crowd erupted into a mix of gasps and cheers, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.

Charles heard his manager call him, and as he quickly glanced back, his eyes met yours. He smiled, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in his expression, and said, "I'll talk to you when I come back, promise."

He left the embrace and followed his manager, disappearing into the crowd as he made his way towards the podium. As you stood there, still in shock from the unexpected kiss, you couldn't help but wonder how this moment would change everything between you and Charles.

The crowd continued to cheer, but in that fleeting moment, you both knew that something had shifted between you, and there was no going back. . . . .

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt as the laughter of Daniel echoed across the room as you explained your issue to him. It was clear that he found the situation amusing, and it made you question whether confiding in him was the right decision.

"Come on, don't be so hard on yourself," Daniel replied, his laughter subsiding.

"It's not every day that you accidentally kiss your best friend. But hey, maybe this could be the start of something amazing between you two."

You sighed, still unsure of how to navigate the complex emotions swirling within you. "I don't know, Daniel," you said softly. "I'm just worried that this kiss might ruin our friendship."

"Don't worry too much," Daniel reassured you. "Who knows, this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

"Exactly, maybe finally my favorite ship will get together," Oscar added, coming out of nowhere to join the conversation.

You lightly punched Oscar's arm for his comment, trying to hide your blush and dismiss his teasing. Deep down, though, you couldn't help but wonder if he was right, and if this unexpected kiss with Charles could truly lead to something more than just friendship.

"Just think about it, you two would look too cute together!" Oscar said while holding his arm in 'pain'.

"This is not what I meant when I asked for advice," you muttered, keeping an eye out of the Monegasque.

"Our advice is to ask him out, no ifs or buts," Daniel started.

"But," you interrupted, "what if he doesn't feel the same way? I don't want to risk losing our friendship."

Daniel sighed, understanding your hesitation. "I get it, but you'll never know unless you try. And if there's a 100 percent chance he says yes, then maybe it's worth taking the leap."

"But what if there's also a 100 percent chance he says no?" you countered, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Daniel paused, considering your question. "Well," he finally said, "then at least you'll have closure and can move on without any regrets."

As the boys left you, you couldn't help but mull over their advice. The idea of asking Charles out was both exhilarating and terrifying, but deep down, you knew that regretting never taking a chance would be even worse.

It didn't take you long to find out that Charles, along with the rest of his team, were celebrating their victory by the dock.

His smile was enough to make you retreat. The warmth in his eyes and the genuine happiness he exuded made you momentarily remember about doubts of asking him out.

Maybe, just maybe, you were content with keeping things as they were for now, cherishing the friendship you had with Charles.

The party was a lively affair, with colorful decorations adorning the dock and laughter filling the air. Families, drivers, and workers mingled together, sharing stories and celebrating the team's victory.

The aroma of delicious food wafted through the crowd, enticing everyone to indulge in the festive feast. The atmosphere was filled with a sense of camaraderie and joy, as people danced to the upbeat music and raised their glasses in cheers.

It was a true celebration of hard work and success, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to be a part of such a vibrant and supportive community.

As you observed the lively celebration from the corner, you took a moment to gather your thoughts and plan what you would say to Charles when you finally had a chance to speak with him.

Having given up on love, you found yourself scrolling through the online world looking for signs that he might be interested in you and what to say when you want to confess your feelings.

Maybe instead of relying on online advice or searching for signs, it might be best to have an open and honest conversation with Charles.

Find a quiet moment during the celebration to approach him, express your feelings sincerely, and ask if he would be interested in exploring a romantic relationship. By directly communicating your emotions, you can avoid misunderstandings and have a clearer understanding of where you both stand-

As you were lost in your thoughts, suddenly your chin was raised up and your eyes were forced off your phone and look into the eyes of Charles. His gaze was intense, and you could see a hint of curiosity and intrigue.

He then leaned in closer as he tilted your head up, his lips brushing against yours for seconds, and you could taste the salty sea water from when he jumped into the docks.

You were taken aback by the unexpected kiss, the taste of salty sea water lingering on your lips.

"Hey, can we talk somewhere else in private?" Charles asked desperately.

"Ye- Yeah," you stuttered, having Charles lead you with his hand in yours out of the party. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed him, wondering what he wanted to talk about in private.

As you stayed silent, your mind raced with possibilities of what Charles wanted to discuss in private. Was he going to reciprocate your feelings? Or was there something else entirely on his mind?

The anticipation and uncertainty only fueled your curiosity as you both entered the closest empty room.

Charles let go of your hand as soon as the room was secure, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was as if the connection you had just shared was abruptly severed, leaving you longing for his touch once more.

"Are you going to start or should I?" Charles asked as he leaned against a piece of furniture, his eyes never leave you.

The intense eye contact he made made you feel as though your legs were suddenly giving out.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" you muttered, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"Well, I'm thinking about the kiss you gave me in front of national television," he stated. His voice was filled with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of the millions of people who saw that intimate moment between the two of you.

"And I can't stop wondering if it was just in the moment or if there's something more between us."

You shake your head vigorously, denying any deeper meaning behind the kiss. "It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to be taken seriously."

There could never be anything between the two of you anyway. The public would never allow it. Just deny it.

"Mon chérie, are you sure? Because your expressions say otherwise," he teased as he started to walk over to you, his playful smile revealing that he saw through your denial.

The way he closed the distance between you made your heart race even faster, and you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for something more between you and Charles after all.

Charles always loved to tease you in every way possible. Either it was placing your cup on the top shelf or holding your phone in the air, he was always determined to tease you these days.

But this was different.

"No, Charles, I'm certain. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more," you insisted, desperately clinging to the denial. Deep down, you knew that pursuing anything with Charles would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment.

It was better to keep your feelings buried and maintain the illusion of friendship.

As Charles stood in front of you, barely any space between you two, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made it hard to maintain your denial.

The air crackled with tension, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Charles.

"Want to try again to see if it was just a 'momentary lapse'?" he asked, raising your chin again. His words sent a shiver down your spine, tempting you to give in and explore the possibility of something more.

His lips were hovering over yours, teasing you with the possibility of what could be. The air between you was charged with anticipation, and it took every ounce of willpower to resist the temptation and maintain your denial.

"Just say it," He muttered, "Just say it and I'll do the rest."

But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn't deny the truth that they held. They were filled with a longing and desire that mirrored your own, and in that moment, you knew that your denial was futile.

"I want you," you finally whispered, surrendering to the undeniable connection between you and Charles.

Charles captured your lips with such hunger, his kiss filled with the years of unspoken longing and desire that had been building between you. In that moment, you both knew that there was no turning back, and that the possibility of something more had become an undeniable reality.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

In that moment, you both knew that you were no longer able to deny the magnetic pull between you, and that surrendering to this forbidden love was inevitable.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the midst of your passionate embrace.

Charles's eyes softened, filled with a mix of joy and relief, as he murmured, "I love you too," sealing your fate in a love that had been yearning to be acknowledged. . . .

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x princess of zamunda!reader

summary: after many years, your father has left you to sort your love life out before you have to rule the kingdom. what you didn’t expect was to find love within your father’s favourite sport.

warnings: outfit links, smau, just read 🤭 (sorry for any typos!)

saint’s team radio 🎀: listen, i love ‘coming to america’ just as much as lewis and this being a 3 am thought made me too excited to write it. enjoy it, love ya! 🫵🏽💗

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @exotic-iris13 @motheroffae @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @non-stop-imagines @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites @yeea-nah @henneseyhoe @saturnville @greedyjudge2

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: nomzamo mbatha

-

palaceofzamunda

liked by f1, mercedesamgf1 and 574,356 others

palaceofzamunda Her Majesty Princess Y/n will safely depart from Kigali, Rwanda to Montreal, Canada with the rest of the Royal Family for a motorsport event per the King’s request. We wish them safe travels!

view limited comments

f1 very excited to host the royal family this weekend!

user i hope they will treat our glorious family well as the royalty they are

user princess y/n is so gorgeous

user so glad she gets to be our next queen

user sky sports and f1 have announced their arrival and have hyped it up so much…there’s levels to this kinda thing

user craziest thing is that they never say anything about prince harry or the prince of monaco whenever they’re there 😭

user i wonder which team the king supports

user fun fact our king loves ferrari but his fav drivers are 1644 and ofc other older drivers as well

user he’s just like the rest of us fr 😝

mercedesamgf1 extremely honoured to be hosting the Royal Family of Zamunda in our garage!

user i would risk it all for Princess Y/n

user it would be iconic if Princess Y/n gets together with a driver

user girl wdym, isn’t she married?

user no she isn’t, homegirl is extremely dedicated to her work as a humanitarian and as a country, we’d be surprised if she was romantically involved with anyone 😭

user what a woman

-

“Father, were the rose bearers necessary for the trip?” You huffed out, watching as rose petals were being tossed out on the tarmac before your father stepped out on the jet’s stairs.

“You know it is tradition, my child. Now, have you gathered everything before we leave this plane?” Your dad answered, waiting for you, your mother, and your sisters to exit the plane after him.

Holding onto your carry-on, the Canadian air breezed past you as you descended from the plane’s steps and gave the media a polite wave, wanting to get to the comfort of the hotel already. Given the warmest welcome from the airport staff, you and your family safely made your way to the official cars and drove to the Four Seasons.

Upon arrival, another warm welcome was given along with a bunch of staff issued to you at your every call and you did not want to say no as they kindly offered.

Laying down on the incredibly soft bed, you appreciated the aesthetics of your suite and took photos that you knew you couldn’t share with the public due to safety reasons so that just ruined the mood so to bring it up again, you called your royal advisor/childhood friend just to update her on your journey.

“And let me guess, the media was all over you guys.” Ama chuckled through the phone. “When aren’t they ever. A lot of them were from Baba’s thing we’re going to.” You said, rolling your eyes as you recalled the flashing lights from your landing.

“Oh, the formula thing. You’ll be fine, Y/n, just remember to interact with other human beings and don’t bring up work.” Ama spoke, squinting her eyes at you. “Don’t you have faith in me? I’ll be as chilled as I can be.” You said.

“Y/n my dear, should I remind you how you ran away from that one rapper because he wanted to take you out on a date?” She laughed in between her sentences and you wanted to scream in embarrassment. “Ama please, let’s not speak on that, it was enough to scar me for days.”

Holding her hands up, Ama spoke again. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. Look Y/n, I have to go now and I promise i won’t speak on it again.” She laughed once again and you just shook your head at her.

“Bye Ama, say hi to everyone back home for me.” You sighed out.

“Byeee! Don’t forget, listen to sexyy red before you go. She’ll give you confidence.” Ama winked then dropped the call.

Feeling your hunger slowly come back, you ultimately decided to drag your two younger sisters to get dinner with you. You knew the next day was going to be incredibly long so you wanted to do everything early to prepare yourself.

-

You made no effort to research a single thing about the sport that you were going to watch.

Your father had sent staff to hand deliver your passes to each of you, there were only two and had specified that it was from Mercedes. Luckily, they went very well with your outfit choice for qualifying that day.

As for your journey to the track, a clearly nervous Mercedes employee was assigned to you along with all the other members of your family having their own guide. Her first thought was to compliment you and you couldn’t have thanked her enough, with you starting to like the experience.

Sitting in the car was not awkward at all, you had asked several questions about the sport and what exactly was happening so that you would not be confused in the garage. A tour would be put in place before qualifying for your family then you’ll get to meet the drivers however most of the fun stuff will happen on Sunday.

“Tell me, is my skirt too short? I made a bold move with this outfit today.” You asked, the younger girl already shaking her head in disagreement.

“It’s a very cute outfit, Your Majesty. It’s quite unsuspecting unless you’re going to wear a sash.” Maddy joked. “Oh no, we stopped that practice three years ago. Another thing, you don’t have to call me that. Y/n is just fine.” You smiled and you could see her sigh out of relief.

The conversation had went on until you arrived to the paddock gates and quite the crowd had gathered and obviously they had to be for the drivers and other important f1 personnel. Maddy had informed you that you and your family would enter through a much more private entrance to avoid crowds.

As soon as the door was opened, you could hear the loud atmosphere of the track. From fans to the cars, it was buzzing and that had you looking forward to the rest of your trip. Following close behind, you could spot your parents and sisters walking slightly ahead of you and they were admiring the beauty of the scenes behind the sport.

However, the weather did not accommodate your outfit all with goosebumps rising on your skin so quickly. “We’ve got some hoodies in the hospitality.” Maddy reassured with a smile.

After a warm welcome upon arriving at the hospitality and the overly excited team principal had showed you around, you finally received the hoodie and completely unaware of the ‘44’ etched into the material but at least you were now warm.

Your father was at his happiest, over-explaining everything to your curious sisters and your mom was in deep conversations with the barista who was from Zamunda. The paddock club was lively with different people wearing colourful merchandise of their favourite teams and only then did you realize you hadn't seen any driver or their face even though they were planted everywhere.

Before you could pull out your phone to research, Khosi, the youngest, ran up to you whilst laughing. "I made a joke to Baba that you'd find someone here and the face he made was priceless." She wheezed out, plopping down on the couch you were sitting on and lightly smiled at her antics.

Looking over at your father, he couldn’t be more excited, his smile growing larger and larger as the Merc personnel continued speaking. “Toto will be here soon with the drivers and a few photographers from Mercedes. We’ll then head to the garage and pit lane for a tour.”

Without a moment to spare, several people entered the space including photographers, the very eager team principal and what you would assume were the drivers. The taller one walked in with his hands clasped together with a large smile on his face, his style could be described as preppy.

The next driver, however, his presence could be felt with just a step in the doorway. The first thing you noticed about him was his confidence followed by his outfit, a black tracksuit with simple red lines around specific areas. After being mesmerised by each detail about him, you got to his eyes which locked in with yours.

A shiver ran down your spine as the both of you maintained eye contact with each other, a slight smile on his face whilst chewing on some gum and you truly could’ve melted on the spot. “George, Lewis. Meet the royal family of Zamunda. King Akeem and his family have been long time followers of Formula One and we’ve had the honour of hosting them in our team.” Toto expressed, quite literally unable to stand still.

Introductions began and butterflies were flying around your stomach the closer you got to him. You could tell that he was your father’s favourite driver as he spoke for quite a while and even made a few jokes but you couldn’t hear anything, not when the man in the designer tracksuit was staring you down.

“Your Majesty, i’m Lewis. It’s lovely to meet you.” He finally introduced himself to you as you were the last of your family to greet everyone. You held out your hand to him and he gladly accepted it and you prayed that he wouldn’t feel the warmth of your palms. “Likewise,” You cleared your throat. “Y/n is just fine.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips felt like heaven, pronouncing it correctly on the first try just added to the attraction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n.” He spoke lowly and you could barely keep yourself together in your head. You wanted to find more words to say to him, anything, but your chance fell short as the eager team principal pulled you out of your head to introduce the next driver to you.

The next few minutes were brutal. Your family stood opposite the faces of the team and you could feel his eyes glued to you, unmoving.

In typical Zamundan fashion, it’s in your father’s blood to brag about how great his country is and all its beauty. “And onto my eldest daughter, she’s quite the superstar. All her humanitarian work has brought eyes onto Zamunda. Y/n, aren’t you working on the STEM school project? She’s also a professor!” The King spoke with pride in his voice, making you want to hide in a corner.

A humble but nervous chuckle left your lips. “It was just a week of me teaching lectures, Baba.” Your words made the whole room laugh but his smile was the brightest. “But yes, the STEM project is still in its early days but a lot of students are interested which makes me happy.” You concluded with a small smile.

Lewis looked impressed. Wait. Since when did you care what anyone thought of your hard work? Especially a man that you knew would be a major distraction to the single lifestyle you’ve lived all these years. You had much to focus on and becoming Queen of Zamunda was at the top of your list.

But why not let loose a little? ‘Live a little’ as your sisters often say whenever you come back home exhausted.

“Is that so? Lewis here has his own foundation for kids in STEM, specifically for motorsport!” The tall team principal smiled and it took everything in you to look into the man’s eyes as you felt them on you.

“I could tell you more about it if you’d like.” Lewis spoke in a calm, low voice. You wanted to walk closer so that you could hear his words travel through you, wanting to listen to every word he had to say to you, every action he wanted to do to y-

Taking a breath and putting a soft smile on your face, you nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.” Talks of hot laps and tours started flying around but you couldn’t hear a word that was said. What was wrong with you? All this man had done was look into your eyes and you felt like you could melt. Lewis clearly used this gentlemanly charm to persuade everyone around him, including your father.

Watching him converse with your family had unleashed a new swarm of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t truly felt in a long time. You had been with one or two people casually but none had ever satisfied you, only caring about your status as Princess. However, you had a gut feeling about something but you didn’t want to dwell on it yet.

“Shall we go for the tour now?” Toto’s voice boomed around the room with a clap of his hands.

-

Feeling a nudge on your arm, you turn to look at your mom as your attention was on the screens around the garage. “Are you going to bring him to Zamunda?” Your mother teased with a smile. Your eyebrows furrowed before you realised who she was referring to.

“Mother, I’d rather not talk about that now. Let’s just enjoy where we are now.” You put your hand on your mom’s then turned to look at the screen.

“He’d make a lovely prince. It’s okay to separate yourself from work, you know? I want you to live a little, my angel.” She continued, enveloping both her hands around yours.

You opened your mouth to speak but she beat you to it. “Don’t worry about your father. He’d be ecstatic if you brought this one home. You still have a lot of time left, Y/n.”

Knowing your mother was right, you breathed in and refocused your attention to qualifying. Lewis seemed to be doing well, even his driving looked attractive to you. Okay, calm it down girl.

After quali, the Mercedes hospitality was buzzing even though the skies were ever gray. Munching on a piece of cake, you offered a smile to those who would walk past and gawk at you. It was evident that F1 had made quite the big deal about your family merely attending a race weekend but you never expected this attention much on you.

A camera crew stayed outside and continuously took pictures of you sitting by your lonesome and you hoped for something to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, the crew began walking away after looking behind you for a split second and the cologne that suddenly surrounded you made it very clear who did it.

“Sorry if they were bothering you, your highness.” Lewis spoke, eventually standing in front of you yet not taking a seat across. Chuckling a bit, you looked up at him. “I thought we spoke about the title, Lewis.”

“Yes we did but I can’t let the media know you like that, only I’ve received the honour.” He smiled and there were the butterflies again. “If you’d like to sit down, you may.” You offered with the sweetest smile. Taking your offer, he never took his eyes off you.

It was quiet as he observed you. “What?” Looking like a deer in headlights, you placed your spoon down. “You’re a powerhouse. I’ve seen you represent your country and how much love you have for it. It’s admirable.”

You were taken aback. You hadn’t received such compliments from someone you were interested in. “Well, now I feel terrible because I’ve got no clue about your sport.” You spoke, covering your mouth with your floating hand.

“That’s okay, Princess.” All he did was say those words and you felt like a puddle all over again. “You’re doing that thing with your eyes again.” You pointed out, wondering if he could see right through your demeanour.

“What thing are my eyes doing, Y/n?”

“…I’d rather not say it in public.”

Lewis’ smirk widened as you said that. He thought it would be a challenge to try make a move on you as you seemed reserved unlike the rest of your family. “Why not? I’m quite curious to hear your thoughts.” He smiled, adjusting his arms to rest on the table.

“Not in your team’s hospitality suite.” You quickly replied, your eyes darting everywhere but him.

“Y/n.” Lewis just said your name and just like that, your thoughts became improper. Locking eyes with him, you knew that he was teasing you, something that you were never able to experience others.

“We can speak about our foundations over dinner!” You quickly suggested, barely registering what just came out of your mouth. “Dinner sounds perfect however that was supposed to be my line.” He joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

-

Everything felt chaotic. You had returned to the hotel from the race which was extremely exhilarating and he had gotten a relatively high position which made you proud.

As you were leaving your seat in the garage a few hours ago, Lewis had approached you knowing very well that the cameras were watching the exchange between the two of you. “I forgot to mention how gorgeous you looked earlier.” He said as he was standing relatively close to you.

“Lewis! You can’t say that, the cameras are watching.” You whisper yelled, looking at the cameras pointed at the scene before them. All he did was laugh and turn on his heel before turning his head to you. “I’ll see you at 7 pm , your highness.” He winked and just like that, he was gone.

And that whole memory ran through your mind as you paced up and down your hotel room. You were all ready for the dinner but you were feeling something…different. It was normal for you to have dinners but this one had a certain tension hanging over it. You smoothed out your dress with your hands as you paced.

Another thing that drove you crazy was that you had no clue of what exactly was happening. You always knew the time, setting and guests of everything you did but now you were completely out of the loop but you had trust in him, as insane as it sounds.

The knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts and you took a breath before turning the doorknob to reveal Lewis standing there with a bouquet of flowers you couldn’t recognise but your heart grew at the sight of them. Your eyes glided over him as you looked at his outfit, a white cardigan with black slacks and designer chunky shoes. He smiled and you almost fell to your knees just looking at him more relaxed and sexy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Y/n.” He complimented, his own eyes moving all over your body. He couldn’t help but admire your beauty as you stood before him. You were the embodiment of a princess and you never failed to exude such energy as you did.

“Uh, would you like to come in? I just have to get my heels.” You spoke as you opened the door a little wider. The room smelt of a scent he couldn’t quite grasp but he definitely labelled it as an aphrodisiac because Lewis began feeling his hands getting hot. He made his way to the couch right by the large window as you closed the door.

You stood in the middle of the room with your fingers pinching your lip in nervousness. The tension could be cut with a knife with the way he was watching you. “Um so, how’d you plan this?” You asked, finally looking at Lewis but you noticed his eyes were slightly lower.

“Your sisters are quite the wingwomen.” He spoke, adjusting his body to sit comfortably.

“Right, right……”

A beat passed before he leaned forward. “Princess, is everything okay?”

“Do you think we could skip dinner? I never usually do this but I don’t think I can go another moment.” You blurted out, too afraid to see his reaction to your raunchy suggestion.

Another moment of silence passed and you felt defeated. You felt like you’d gone on too strong and that’s not what you envisioned at all.

“Y/n.” He called and you picked your head up to look up.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes: you thought I was going to give you smut???? no 🤭 hope you enjoyed though! 🫶🏽

[russo-woso]

Enchanted || Alessia Russo

Based on this request here. Thank you for the idea :)

Summary Yours and Alessia’s first date

Joining Arsenal had been one of the toughest parts of your career.

You were happy playing at Manchester City but when they got a record breaking bid for you, they couldn’t say no.

You knew a few of the girls internationally, for example your Australian teammates, Steph and Caitlin.

What also helped was that one of your best friends, Kyra Cooney-Cross was also joining Arsenal.

You were even more at peace when kyra told you the news.

You and Kyra hadn’t been friends for a long time, only becoming close within the last two years whilst she’s been in the senior Team.

At camp, it was always you, Kyra and Charli, everyone knew that was the iconic trio.

So it was no surprise when Kyra also announced her move to Arsenal.

When you arrived at training for the first time, there was a group of 6 of you that had been taken to the side for a tour around the training grounds.

Arsenal had signed 6 new players over the course of the summer, one of them being a player you knew quite well.

Alessia Russo.

With you playing for Manchester City and her playing for United, it was a big deal when it came to playing each other.

The Manchester derby was a time to show off the true colour of Manchester so it was always a violent game.

Alessia was a centre forward and you were a centre back so when it came to the pitch, you were always around each other.

Every time there was a tackle, you both showed your respective, kind personalities by asking one another if you were okay.

It wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t necessary but you both chose to do it.

You always liked Alessia, but more in a friend way.

It wasn’t until after the World Cup when that changed.

In the semi finals of the World Cup, England beat Australia 3-1, Alessia scoring the final goal.

After a moment celebrating with her teammates, Alessia walked over to you where you were sat on the floor.

You weren’t sad, in fact, you were happy.

You’d seen the growth of women’s football with your own eyes, and it was all because of the World Cup, and that made you so happy.

Of course, it was devastating being knocked out of a home World Cup, especially when you were so close to reaching the final stage, but it is what it is, and you along with your team, had put up an excellent performance over the summer.

But seeing Alessia made you even more happier.

She crouched down next to you, rubbing your back as you smiled at her.

“Thank you.” You told her, making eye contact with her.

“Don’t thank me.” She replied, and you smiled at her kindness. “Shirt swap?”

You nodded embarrassingly quickly, and you found yourself taking your shirt off and giving it to Alessia, her doing the same thing.

As you and Alessia said your goodbyes, you stopped her quickly.

“Alessia?” You shouted

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you in London.” You smile at her, a big smile also appearing on her face.

“You will.”

That’s what lead to the moment where you actually saw her in London.

Your eyes caught hers as you were shown around the gym.

Her silhouette crosses the room over to you and you start to make a playful conversation with her.

The conversation never seemed to stop, the both of you talking about your backstories, your families, just everything.

It wasn’t until you finished the tour when you realised just how long you’d been talking for.

You noticed Alessia shy away as the tour finished, a whole comparison to the Alessia who was just talking to you.

“What’s wrong, Alessia?” You asked, worried that you’d done something wrong.

After the semi final, you realised you liked Alessia more than just a friend, and you wanted to make a really good impression during the first time you actually got to have a full conversation.

“Would you up for continuing this conversation over a coffee, or dinner. We don’t have to, it’s just—” Alessia blurted out, but you cut her off before she started rambling.

“—Of course, less, I’d love to.”

“Oh, okay.” Alessia took a breath, clearly shocked with your answer. “When are you free?”

“Tonight I’m unpacking all my boxes but tomorrow night?” You ask her, and she nods quickly.

“That’s perfect.”

“See you tomorrow, less.”

—

That same night, you couldn’t get any sleep.

It was far too difficult to get to sleep.

Question and thoughts flowed through your head non stop.

Did Alessia like you back or was she just being nice?

Do you love Alessia?

Was she even into girls?

The one thing that you couldn’t keep your mind off was the thought of Alessia being in love with someone else.

The only thing you could do was pray that Alessia wasn’t in love with someone else, that she doesn’t have somebody waiting for her.

—

The following day, was one where you wish the world could have swallowed you up.

You were so excited for your date dinner with Alessia, but the nerves of the whole thing was starting to set in.

You had a fashion emergency and had to call Kyra to come over.

You had no clue what to wear. You were originally going to wear some jeans and a crop top but you didn’t know if you liked the combination of them.

Although Kyra wasn’t the best at fashion, having someone else’s opinion always made it better.

“I like it, but it’s missing something. Here, try this on with it.” Kyra looked through your wardrobe, handing you a denim jacket.

“Thanks, Ky.”

“Now, go be yourself, enjoy yourself, and have fun.” Kyra said, and you gave her a worried look.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t the normal Kyra I know. The Kyra I know is never this mature.” You joked and she shoved you lightly.

“I’m being serious, have fun, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed her tight before she left the house.

It had been agreed that Alessia would pick you up and drive you to the restaurant.

When you heard a knock on the door, you took a deep breath in, before opening the door.

“Hi, less.” You welcomed, hugging her as she also said hello to you.

“You look incredible, Y/N.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

She guided you to the car, before driving to the restaurant.

On the way there and during your dinner with her, a smile never left your face.

Everything Alessia said made you so intrigued and made you fall more and more in love with her.

You and Alessia paid the bill before driving you home.

You couldn’t help but blush on the way home.

You were so caught up in wonderland that you didn’t realise the familiar driveway of your home.

“Thank you so much for tonight, lessi. It was flawless.” You said, leaning over to hug her.

“It was. We’ll do it again. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” Alessia said, and you nodded.

“See you tomorrow.”

You got out the car, grabbing your keys and walked up your driveway.

You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know wether to go inside or wether to turn around and smash your lips onto Alessia’s.

At the exact same time, you both shouted each others names.

Alessia had gotten out of the car and was starting to run towards you.

As you met in the middle of your driveway, Alessia grabbed you hips and your hands landed on the back of her neck.

After what felt like hours, you both leant in and your lips connected with one another’s.

You smiled into the kiss before you both broke it for air.

“It was enchanting to meet you, lessi.”

[eldritch-spouse]

Any of your demon OC’s reaction to being summoned but the magic feels powerful so when they get there they expect maybe a collection of wizards but instead it is a very drunk person(reader) who seems very confused but also isn’t against having this very attractive demon in their house.

[I mean, at this rate you could just summon an Icon. But let's not go there yet. Why not Vorago?]

The difference between Vorago and many other demons is that, most of the time, he's ready to be summoned. As the firstborn of Queen Vorticia, he has to be available for a myriad of public contact and more nitty-gritty transactions that his Mother is all too happy to distribute between her many children. The eldest takes on even more work than necessary, purely to train himself for the future, wherein he may rule Gluttony.

So, when Vorago senses a rift opening with a request for him, the royal glutton merely brushes his outfit, adjusts his mane, and stands appropriately, waiting to be transported. It's no shock to him that a rather surprising amount of magic is used during these instances, you do not simply summon a royal without obtaining much training in the field, or on your own for that matter. While the process takes place, Vorago searches his head for who this might be. The blood signature utilized doesn't ring any bells, so it might be a first contact summoning. Giving a good impression is more important than ever if that truly is the case.

Vorago steps into the rift with an adequately serious expression and a hand behind his back, expecting some kind of fanfare or overzealous greeting.

There are few words to describe his confusion at the sight that greets him. Astonishing, really, as he considers himself verbose.

The prince finds himself in a rather homely, completely informal setting. Someone's house, he deduces, given the smells present, the well-worn furniture. No group, no organization, no sect, not even a pair is there to receive him, only one human.

He sniffs.

One very intoxicated human.

He can only wonder what's happening to you, where you hail from. How you've gotten to this point.

The glutton stares hard at you. Something that another summoner may find rude of him, but you're hardly composed enough to notice. There's no incredible, burning desire within you. You don't stink of desperation and madness, you aren't covered in sin.

You're just a human woman, meddling with what most definitely doesn't concern someone like you.

" ... O- " You finally seem to notice there's someone else in the room. " Oh? "

" Oh. " Vorago parrots, feeling a brand new crease form on his forehead.

Silent moments pass.

You really should blink more, he assumes your eyes are losing moisture from the moments where you stare at him blankly, like a donkey.

" I suppose, when you're sober, you'll gather the wits to grovel... "

Vorago isn't particularly cruel, but he'd be a bad example if he allowed summoners to think they can get away with this type of behavior. To summon a demon of royalty while entirely shitfaced is to cause great offense to said royal lineage. It can warrant more than death, it could set curses upon your loved ones. Vorago understands mistakes happen, but humans of all people, are too frail to afford these grievous acts of buffoonery.

So he needs to cause a healthy amount of panic in you, which he will, when you become sober.

" Hhmn? " You sluggishly tilt your head.

The firstborn takes a few steps forward on the borderline nonexistent circle you've thrown together on the ground. It's more of a misshapen oval, with not a tenth of the power you'd require to keep him properly contained. Really, Vorago could blow it away with a sigh.

He squats, using his hands to gesture and speaking slowly, the same tactics he'd use to make his toddler-aged siblings pay attention.

" Human. Listen closely. " No self-respecting prince would be stooping this low. " Now that you have made the mistake of summoning me, we need to establish a formal deal, so that I can leave. "

You don't offer much of a reaction for a while. Vorago sincerely wants to slap the back of your head. Though he imagines you'd tumble face first in a graceless display of alcoholism.

He can only tense hard when you spread your arms and latch onto his shoulders, running clumsy hands through his thick hair.

" Hahah... Hah. You're sooo cute. You should stick around. "

You're so fucking wasted.

The glutton is speechless, face darkening. He allows himself to feel this for a few seconds, ideas suddenly swirling in his head while an admittedly pretty human plays with his hair. The large demonoid shivers slightly. You'd look even better if you weren't so visibly drunk. For as much as he craves and writes about this type of contact between monster (demon) and human, he's never had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand.

A small eternity passes before he forces himself to pry your small -Delicate, so fragile, so soft- hands away and rises.

" Any suggestions, summoner? " His tail swishes.

A grin tries to settle on your cheeks, it's struggling. " You. Me. The couch. "

Vorago has to run a hand down his complexion and breathe in deep. Oh trust him, that couch wouldn't survive. Still, this is no way to try his hand at charming a beautiful person.

" No. " He chastises. " I have a proposal. Do you read, human? "

This could backfire very hard. He knows this.

" Ehh, yeah, I guess. " You shrug. " Sometimes. When my favorite authors upload. "

Upload. The top eye in Vorago's head widens, his hope shining clearly.

" Then let's do the following. I provide you with written works, and, in turn, you act as a proof-reader, letting me know what I could adjust. "

Particularly how accurate his portrayal of humans and the opposite gender is.

" You write?! "

He almost feels offended that you're so surprised. " Yes. "

" Fuck yeah! "

He chuckles purely from how ridiculous this is getting.

Vorago nods, using a foot to disrupt the summoning circle and leaning down with an outstretched hand, the other reaching for a vial on his coat pocket.

" Brilliant. Allow me to collect your blood signature then. " Because you're too shitfaced to sign anything, he presumes. " You will be contacted so we can schedule our first meeting. "

Well, he thinks happily, no one can accuse him of having no references now.

[ollimus-prime]

Jazz Hands

A/N, not important: First transformers fic, sorry if this is kinda iffy. I'll get better as I write more. I tried my best man. Requests open if anyone wants to see anything specific. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: kidnapping

Words: 1578

Summary: It's time for the Autobots to regroup, yet Jazz isn't yet willing to let his new human go.

Low music hummed out of your speakers, the volume turned down low so you could concentrate on the dark road. Your high beams were on, though even they seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness of the winter night. Your car’s engine hummed lowly as you drove, the bumps in the old asphalt road causing your car to intermittently shake. It was peaceful, as far as lone drives went.

You rub your tired eyes with the heel of your hand, tapping the steering wheel along to the beat of the song playing with the other. It was your eighth hour in the car by now, and you were stuck between toughing it out for the next five hours or just stopping in the next town you come across. You glance down at the map shining out from your phone on your center console, checking to see how close any hotels were. Or a walmart. Sleeping in your car sounded like a dream at this point. 

You sigh, quickly tapping on the nearest hotel in the navigation app and changing your destination. The screen lit up with a bright ‘CHANGE COURSE?’, waiting patiently for you to hit the confirmation before your map starts to bug out. You curse under your breath, both hands now gripping the steering wheel in annoyance. It takes a moment for the app to recalibrate, the icon showing you as driving backwards for a moment before righting itself once more. You relax back down, glancing at the number of miles until your exit. Thirty-seven to go and you’re home free.

You’re able to go twenty minutes before your radio starts to glitch out, the low music fading into mild static before changing into the familiar yet confusing revving noises. You sigh, fiddling with the knob on the stereo to try and fix it, grumbling under your breath. You had bought the Porsche from the used car dealership months ago, and while the stereo tending to jam up or change channels at will was annoying, it wasn’t enough for you to fork over the cash to get it fixed. It takes you a couple minutes of fighting the broken signal before you give up and switch the volume all the way down, opting to ride in silence instead. Silence immediately broken by the loud siren and lights of an approaching cop car.

You pull over with a loud curse, clutching tight to the steering wheel and expecting the cop to whizz past to reach whatever emergency they were being called to. To your surprise, and immense resentment, the cop pulls over alongside you. You grit your teeth, the grinding echoing in your head as your heart rate spikes. You quickly try to gather the necessary documents before leaving both hands on the steering wheel in hopes the exchange would be quick. You just wanted to leave. Thoughts of driving off after the cop makes it to your car tempt you, but you shake them off. You wanted to leave with a ticket at most, not a date with a judge.

It feels like forever before you’re able to pry your eyes away from the forward stare they were stuck in. Confusion seeps into your mind and muddles your frustration as you realize no officer had exited the vehicle. You watch the car for a second, face furrowing in concentration. Its low beams were still on, making it hard to see much more than the fuzzy shape of the car behind you. Another second passes as you await an officer to emerge, heart pounding in anticipation.

The car behind you shifts, a loud crunching sound emitting from the vehicle. Your eyes widen as the car breaks apart and stands up, your heart immediately dropping into your stomach. 

“What funding provided that?!” You exclaim in a panic, grabbing at your seatbelt to free yourself from the tin can of death your car became. To hell with a misdemeanor, you were not sticking around long enough to be crushed by a cop car on a rampage.

A loud long rev comes from the approaching thing’s engine, causing your car to start to shake. The seatbelt unclips, letting you make a break for the door before your ears ring with the sound of scraping metal. You scream as your car’s interior shifts around you, the windows pulling back until you’re stuck in a much smaller space. The sudden cramped area and pitch black makes your entire body tense up, your body shaking in fear. You can feel the metal vibrate and shift under you, the air permeated with a harsh chemical smell mixed with motor oil and gasoline. You curl up in a ball on instinct, unable to cry or scream or move. Cold air surrounds you for a second before you’re pulled out by a massive hand curled around your midsection, holding you just tight enough for it to be uncomfortable. The squeeze of fingers locked around your midsection knocks the breath from you, your limbs stinging against the frigid metal. Your eyes squeeze shut as you wait to be crushed, your arms desperately pushing at the giant metal fingers encasing you.

“Put it down, Jazz.” A harsh voice sounds. It was robotic in a way, a metal ring to each syllable that sounded, yet still sounded alive. You’re shooken slightly, the not-car holding you lifting you up as a way of emphasis. The movement makes your stomach drop, your vision swimming behind your eyelids.

“No. I told you already, I’m not leaving them.”

The angry growl of the once cop car’s engine causes your eyes to pop open, causing you to finally face the metal monster. An act you immediately regret upon looking at the sharp blue ‘eyes’ that seemed to possess a hatred for your very being. The instinct to run and hide consumes you with little ability to follow through. The Porsche turned robot you bought had you in its grasp, and was clearly not interested in letting you go. It feels as if your very soul is gripped with terror, your eyes locked on the face of something that shouldn’t be able to exist. Your stomach lurches from fear and discomfort, the cold air biting at your face reminding you that this is all real.

“It’s trembling, Jazz. There is clearly something wrong with it.” The giant white mech seethes, gesturing to your shaking form in what seemed like frustration. The robot holding you makes a concerning metal-screeching noise from its chest, quickly turning its hand and bringing you up to its face to inspect you. The ‘eye’ contact between you and the metal behemoth makes the air around you feel even colder than it already did. 

You were not dressed for the weather in the slightest, only donning a pair of jeans with a ratted old sweater. You hadn’t planned on getting out of your car for a while, so dressing any warmer hadn’t been a concern. You’re able to see your breath in front of you, each gasp of air you’re able to manage causes your lungs to constrict and crackle from the cold. The blue visor dims at your miserable state, its mouth curling in upset. It uses a finger from its other hand to pet your head, something that only makes you panic more. The bot sighs, curling both hands around you and holding you close to its chest.

“They’re just a bit scared. It’s not that bad.” The vibrato in the robot's voice causes his chest to vibrate uncomfortably. The mech pretends to not notice your discomfort, rubbing your stomach and chest rhythmically with his thumb. “You won’t even notice I have them.”

A couple more concerning sounds come from the cop-car-robot causing the Porsche to tighten his grip. You wanted to voice your opinion, to fight or protest or scream, but there was nothing you could do. They continued to bicker almost, the bot holding you seeming much calmer than the one it was facing. It talked about you like one would when bringing a lost kitten home without telling their family first.

The cop car seemed to give up on arguing with the Porsche, your handler’s chest rumbling in smug satisfaction. You help as the familiar sound of the cars changing ripples through the air once more, the hands holding you disappearing as you disappear back into the chest of the beast.

The lurching stops finally, you ending up dazed in the passenger seat. The rev of your car's engine knocks you out of it, pure instinct driving you forward as you try to do anything to get out. The seatbelt around you tightens to the point of near pain, the inability to bring your back off the seat only fueling the desperate feeling to get out. You grope around the car for anything you could grab, only for the crushing realization that nothing you touched worked. The stick shift for the transmission refused to budge and no amount of clawing at the door handle could get it to pop open. You were trapped in your own car, heading off at speeds you wouldn’t dream of hitting. You sink down in the seat in defeat. You could only hope they’d have to stop soon for gas or whatever else robot cars needed to run on. Maybe you could figure out how to escape then. For now, the only thing you do is come along for the ride.

Pt. 2

[jesncin]

Okay, I'll bite, what are your feelings on the trans conner pitch?

Oh boy! Thank you for tossing me this bone because I have a lot of mixed feelings!

I notice that people online are very hot and cold about the Trans Superboy Pitch, they either love it or hate it and that doesn't leave a lot of room for nuance + discussion. So to be respectful to a fellow trans peer in the industry, I want to do a fair review/analysis of Skyrocket: the trans Conner Kent pitch by Magdalene Visaggio.

My general takeaway from the pitch is that I like the premise, but the details fumble the execution for me. I can really feel from reading the pitch that Visaggio cares about Superboy. She understands that he's a very weird legacy character who has struggled to find proper footing in the DC Universe after all these years. An effective legacy character is one who is able to spin off and expand upon the themes of the character whose mantle they carry. But the cheesy whatever-goes 90's-ness of Superboy's original run didn't give future writers a lot to work with in terms of a Superman Legacy Character.

It's why I genuinely believe the later retcon reveal that -part of Conner's DNA is from Lex Luthor- is a fantastic addition to his character. It takes a character who was just kind of screwing off to gentrify Hawaii back into the center of Superman's good vs evil conflict. But now Conner's problem is that his story is too tied to his origin and Superman's shadow. Placing Conner with the Kents in Smallville afterwards made him narratively redundant. What's next for him?

So let's dig into the pitch!

I like what's at the heart of this pitch. It's a very season-3-ATLA-Zuko "honor wasn't all it's cracked up to be" arc and I think that suits Conner's character really well! It's the details I have gripes with:

"Conner has been largely relegated to the Jason Todd of the Superfamily" oof, haha that's not a particularly fair characterization.

The constant comparing of Superman to Christian imagery. He's described as basically "Jesus goddamn Christ" in the pitch. The Tyrannical Kryptonians are named Saint, Shepherd and Savior. No surprise I don't like seeing a character who allegorically represented Jewish immigrants to be constantly compared to Christian imagery and deified.

It's inevitable with pitching to the company, but the pitch is bogged down by a lot of convoluted plot points. I get that it's necessary to pitch event tie-ins and universe hopping shenanigans, but it's a lot.

Leland feels like a plot device in this. I'm sure there were plans to flesh out the brotherly clone relationship between him and Conner so that he can feel like his own character, but from the summary he just kind of revolves around Conner the way the pitch describes Conner revolving around Superman. Oops!

Conner's relation to Luthor and Superman works as a story about legacy, bloodlines and the things parents pass down to their kids. It's best when handled thematically and not literally because it's easy to get into essentialist "good genes" vs "evil genes" near-eugenics talking points. Unfortunately this pitch has a lot of that vibe. Leland has more Lex genes so he's super smart. Conner and Leland are able to start a schism in the Future Tyrannical Kryptonian House by "proving their truer genetic link to the original Superman, unsullied by thousands of years of tinkering" thereby gaining allies. Not great!

The part where Conner wants to find "his own Metropolis" by moving to Dripping Springs, Texas. That's Jinny Hex's field of operations, so is it really his own space? I would've just given Conner a new town so he can better stand on his own and build out a unique cast system.

Okay let's talk about the trans stuff!

I get that it makes for an Iconic Visual Superhero Moment, but I really don't like the part where Conner steps through a magical crystal and pops out the other side as a trans woman. It robs her of having that discovery on her own. The pitch says "I believe that this is as natural a move as Iceman's coming out". And just?? Man, remember when Jean Grey read Iceman Bobby Drake's mind and robbed him of his agency by outing him through that invasion of privacy? For a pitch all about Conner's journey of defining herself, it weirdly robbed her of that moment.

The pitch does such a good job talking about how Conner feels like her whole life revolves around Superman and how pointless wanting to be Superman feels now that Jon Kent has taken the mantle. She has Clark's genes, goes to Clark's hometown school, is raised by Clark's parents and all that. So then why is she eventually named after the women in Clark's life? Constance "Connie" Lara Kent. Clark's Kryptonian mom and human grandma? Was the world so small that she could not name herself after anyone else or come up with a new name? Connie doesn't even get to name herself, her new name is one Martha Kent bestows her with. It's hypocritical, and doesn't have the same impact that Superman giving Superboy a Kryptonian name does.

Speaking of which, this right here is my biggest gripe. It's not in the pitch itself but?? Wait- why go on about how Conner deserves a name that's not given to her and then turn around and make Martha name her? Sure, Connie comes up with the superhero name "Skyrocket" herself but surely she also deserves to name herself considering the thesis the pitch built up about self discovery and agency right?

Also with all due respect, this is the whitest queer take on Conner's identity. I wish white trans people could understand that you can have multiple true names that reflect different parts of you.

When Clark gives Superboy the name "Kon-El" it matters that it's given. It ties so well to the idea of familial acceptance into a nearly-extinct culture. You wouldn't know how to reclaim that part of your identity when that culture's been wiped out, so of course it's an honor to be trusted with a name that preserves Krypton's culture. This is a common practice with diaspora reclaiming cultural names from closed cultures, they are gifted their names by someone more culturally connected. I think the pitch having Martha name Connie is trying to echo this, but it doesn't hit the same without that cultural context. It also undercuts the genuine joy Conner felt from finally having a name he truly identifies with. Conner was only ever referred to as Superboy before then. When Clark gives him the name Kon El, Conner cries out that Kon El is his "real name". It's one of his defining moments, and to have that be diminished by saying "It's still a name someone else gave him" is so disappointing.

Then there's the design.

This is gonna lean more into preference, but I'm not the biggest fan of this design! I get what it's going for but it has too much going on everywhere. It also doesn't have that proto-punk look original Conner had, so it ends up not feeling like him. It's too superhero, and not enough casual-wear-on-a-supersuit that Conner sports really well. I see how it fits in with the everyone-in-Superfam-is-wearing-jackets-era, but I also think those new designs don't look good either. Especially Supergirl's. I feel like Conner should be more punk post transition. No respectability beam for her!

Also the name Skyrocket? It's giving knock off-brand toy vibes to me I'm sorry D: People on twidder suggested Supernova and that sounds way better! Even Visaggio stated she prefers that name so you can't be mad at me for this.

Overall big conclusion feelings!

I've been following Visaggio's work for a while because it's awesome seeing trans people getting picked up in comics. While there are some things about her writing I like, for the most part I've felt like her work isn't my cup of tea. I tried reading up a bunch of interviews she's in to try to understand why her writing wasn't clicking with me, and what I discovered is that we have fundamentally different approaches to queer storytelling.

From Paste Magazine. I get where she's coming from, trans characters deserve to have multi-faceted narratives that don't overly center how they're othered at the expense of further characterization. But also? I just actually find the interior lives of queer people and identity interesting. I like writing the kind of escapism and joy that's informed by surviving and inheriting hardships rather than erasing those things or skipping past it. I think this is why Connie is robbed of her trans discovery in the pitch. Why we don't get to watch her grapple with gender identity in a political way. Queer stories about queer struggles are considered archaic and unnecessary nowadays. It's part of the escapism Visaggio values in her work; to give a place of respite for trans readers from the cruelty they experience in reality, but I don't connect to stories like that personally. Whenever I try to share queer Indonesian art and writing with my peers, I'm often told it's too painful to look at. That our pain doesn't fit the modern expectation for happy, empowering queer stories. "trans people get enough hardships in real life, they don't need that in their fiction" Visaggio still talks about her newest projects like this btw.

I'd love to see a take on Conner that more holistically continues the political immigrant themes of Superman. The white parts of fandom love interpreting Conner's identity crisis as primarily a queer struggle, but it's also one of a person grappling with his mixed heritage. He's a diaspora kid separated by a generation away from Krypton. He has yet to make peace with the Luthor side of his identity, one borne of generational trauma and resentment for one's roots. Instead of a take where his queerness separates him from the pressures of legacy, I want to see a Conner take that has themes that are intersectional about his mixed diaspora and queer identity. I want his superficial punk aesthetic to graduate into actual punk ideals. The anti-establishment and radical love philosophies of punk culture would make such a cool extension of Superman themes and it would make so much sense that someone facing so many intersections of marginalization would be radicalized from their experience. I want a queer Conner who isn't just empowering and idealistic, I want one that also gives space for queer readers to feel like their pain is seen too. Conner isn't "Truth, Justice and the American Way" he's famously "Truth, Justice, My Way".

There's a tendency in media criticism to treat marginalized talent as infallible, and I don't think that fair to creatives like Visaggio. Being able to look at their ideas with nuance instead of essentializing it as being Good or Trash is the best way to respect diverse creativity. And my nuanced feelings are that a white queer person who looks at Conner's story and just sees the queer part and dismisses the diaspora mixed heritage side of him,,, is not going to give me the Conner story I want to see.

[weast-of-eden]

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue  1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

[moonstruckme]

you did the james x hufflepuff prank story so good. BUT i think what would be so iconic is the reverse. IF a slytherin reader got tired of james and the gang's shenanigans against the slytherins and decides to get revenge which maybe goes a bit wrong?? i live for a little enemies to lovers haha!

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: alcohol, spiked drinks

James Potter x slytherin!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You’d thought the only downside of your prank was that you wouldn’t get to see it happen. The best you could hope for was an overheard conversation in class about how the marauders had gotten drunk on the firewhiskey Sirius kept stored under his bed and had somehow ended up naked in the forbidden forest trying to befriend the faeries or something like that. 

You certainly hadn’t expected James Potter to come knocking at the door to the Slytherin common room at nearly one in the morning. 

Your scowl is immediate upon seeing him, more instinct than anything, but you're surprised that he almost matches it. James’ eyes are fierce, his hair in disarray and his lips downturned. He’s breathing hard like he’s run all the way here. 

You raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“One—” he pants. “One of you tampered with our alcohol. I need—need to know who.” He starts to push the door open, but you stop it with your foot. “Let me in.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” you say coolly, though you’re more than a little alarmed by the grim set of the Gryffindor captain’s features. You don’t know James very well, but you’ve seen enough of him over the years to know that his geniality is usually unshakeable. Has a taste of his own medicine really gotten him this riled? “What’s happened to your alcohol, Potter, and why do you assume someone in Slytherin is responsible?” 

James huffs. “I don’t know what’s happened to my alcohol. All I know is that I’ve got fifth-years in the common room flapping their arms and saying they’re going to join a dragon colony, and I need to know if there’s an antidote to give them.” He seems to anger with every word. His eyes narrow on you, and you never would have thought to find James Potter intimidating, but you’re something close to intimidated now. Your stomach does a little flip. “And when an entire party of Gryffindors gets roofied the night before our quidditch match with Slytherin, I’m bound to make some assumptions.” 

“Take me to them.”

“What?”

“I might be able to help,” you say, forcing your shoulders back and your chin up a notch. “I’m good at potions, and it could take forever to track down the person who drugged your alcohol. Let me try to figure it out.” 

James shakes his head at you, straightening his glasses. “I don’t have time to mess around.” 

“I can tell.” You slide out of the opening in the door, shutting it behind you before James can think to dash through. “But I think I’m your best shot.” You start towards the Gryffindor rooms, hoping he’ll follow. 

He does, jogging to catch up to your brisk strides. You don’t like the idea of wasting time any more than James does. Your prank was supposed to be contained, a little joke to get back at the small group of Gryffindor boys for their endless volley of pranks against your house. You were supposed to have the gratification of knowing you’d made fools of the marauders for one night, not roofie an entire party of innocent students. Well, Gryffindors. But still. 

“How did you not end up drugged?” you ask as you walk. 

“Quidditch match tomorrow,” James replies simply. “I didn’t want a hangover. Not,” he adds, “that I’ve ever had a hangover. I’m Head Boy; any drinking that happens in Gryffindor house is, of course, without my knowledge or participation.” 

You have to bite back a small smile. “Of course.” 

He murmurs the password to the fat lady as you approach, and you ignore the judgemental look she passes over your green robes as she swings aside, begrudgingly allowing you entry. 

Your guilt increases tenfold at the scene in the common room. 

Lily Evans has posted herself by the door, turning back students vying for exit. There is indeed a group of fifth-years waving their arms about and looking out the windows as if they’d take to the skies, and half of the Gryffindor quidditch team looks to be trying to start a match indoors. 

James takes your hand when you linger too long by the entryway, tugging you through the crowd. You stop at a small table, where the empty bottle of firewhisky sits next to a giant bowl where they’ve apparently mixed it with coca cola or something. You lean down over the bowl, sniffing cautiously like you imagine you would if you didn’t know what it was. Thankfully, one ingredient has left a scent. 

“Scurvy grass,” you say to James, straightening. “It’s the main ingredient in befuddlement draught.” 

“S’exactly what I said,” Remus Lupin comments from the couch, seemingly speaking to a pillow he’s got in his lap. “We’ve all got scurvy.”

James ignores his friend, raising his eyebrows at you. “That was quick. Is there an antidote?” 

You frown, letting the very real regret you’re feeling show in your expression. “None that I know of,” you reply. “It’s like alcohol, it just fades with time.” 

James looks around the room worriedly. “How much time?”

You shake your head. “Not likely soon enough. Your best bet is getting everyone to bed. They’ll sleep it off.” 

James takes a deep breath. “Alright, I can do that. Evans!” he calls, getting the Head Girl’s attention. “We’re to put them to bed.” 

Lily nods, gathering a few girls from around her and herding them upstairs. James heads for the fifth-years, blabbering something about how dragons need rest to keep their fire hot. You don’t think that’s true, but the students start moving nonetheless, James keeping them going with words of encouragement each time they try to turn back. 

“Could you just stay by the door?” he asks you as he follows them upstairs. “Make sure nobody leaves.” 

You nod, posting yourself by the entryway and telling anyone that comes close to go to bed. Your persuasive skills aren’t up to par with James or Lily’s, but eventually they get everyone to their rooms, and James is the only one who comes back down the stairs. 

He rubs harshly at his eyes, disrupting his glasses, and begins to clean up the mess of the party. You join him, gathering discarded cups and setting up a pile of left items (shoes and wands and even a pair of pants) by the fireplace. 

“If you’re still worried about the match,” you say after awhile, “everyone should be fine by tomorrow morning. The effects of befuddlement draught don’t usually last for more than a few hours, and sleeping will help.” 

“You seem somewhat of an expert on befuddlement draught,” James says lightly.

You flush, bending to pick up another cup. “It was on the OWLs. I studied hard.” 

He hums noncommittally. “Well, I appreciate you coming to help clean up your own mess.” 

You look at him, an inquiry as to what he could possibly mean already forming on your tongue, but the look on James’ face stops you. He knows. “It was only supposed to be you,” you say. “It was Black’s firewhiskey, I thought it would just be him, you, and maybe Lupin drinking it. I didn’t think you would share.” 

James actually laughs at that. “Yes, sharing! How ridiculous of us.” 

You huff, despising him for the shame twisting in your gut. “I’m just trying to tell you that it wasn’t my intention to spike the drinks of all of Gryffindor.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe if you didn’t distribute your alcohol, these things wouldn’t happen.” 

James crosses his arms. “As I’ve said, I would personally never distribute alcohol or endorse underage drinking. But it seems that, whatever may or may not have happened tonight involved a series of unfortunate accidents, which could have been avoided if several parties had been more responsible.” 

You bristle at the veiled scolding. Frankly, James implicating himself as partially responsible for the night’s events doesn’t do much to alleviate your guilt either. He’s gone soft on you, the panic that had fueled his earlier breach in character worn away, and he’s back to his lighthearted, irritatingly nice self. 

You can’t look at it, and you roll your eyes as you turn away, tossing the last cup into the trash bin on your way to the door. “See you at the match tomorrow, Potter.” 

You can practically feel the warmth of his smile at your back. “See you there. And I’ll be keeping an eye on my drinks in the future, so don’t get it in your head to try it again!”

Oh, James can rest easy. You won’t.

[keanusbabydoll]

shower sex

paring: keanu reeves x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, rough sex, arguing, degrading if you squint, little to no plot, shower sex, age gap

••••••𑁍𑁍𑁍••••••

keanu and y/n had been together for nearly a year now. she was an 20-year-old rising star with a rare blend of grace, beauty, and talent, while keanu, in his late fifties, was the seasoned actor everyone knew and loved. despite their significant age difference, their relationship was strong, built on mutual respect, a shared passion of acting, and an understanding of each other's unique lives. their love had a depth that surprised many, including themselves.

y/n had been cast in the latest john wick film as a pivotal character - a young assassin with a complexed relationship with wick. it was a huge break for her, a role that demanded everything she had to offer and more. but it also meant grueling days on set, hours of preparation, and physical exhaustion like she'd never known.

keanu was giving everything to the film; it was his most iconic role, and the fans expected nothing less than perfection.

the set was close to their shared home, each night they would return home, grateful for the privacy and comfort it offered. but something had begun to shift between them since the shooting started. the long days left little room for intimacy or even simple moments of connection. they would often return home after 10 PM, too tired to do anything but collapse into bed. some nights, keanu didn't even make it home, having to stay behind to train or prepare for the next day's fighting scenes.

but y/n could feel the tension building inside her. she missed him- needed him- missed the way they used to be before the shooting started. the stolen kisses, the laughter, the way they would get lost in each other's arms. and of course the sex. they used to fuck like literal rabbits, loving to be at it practically every minute, every day. but now it's completely different, both of them are always way too tired, especially keanu. it's not like y/n didn't have the energy or motivation to have sex, she dearly desired it, but it was keanu who mostly every time declined it. she understood that then film demanded everything from him, from them, but it didn't stop her from feeling the frustration of their growing distance.

she wanted him. hell, craved him. and the longer they went without any real intimacy, the more the frustration build up.

one evening, after another exhausting day on set, they finally made it back home just after 10 PM. y/n entered the house first, tossing her bag to the floor with more force than necessary. keanu followed her, his face lined with exhaustion, but there was a gentle smile on his lips as he greeted their dog, who was eagerly wagging his tail.

"I'm going to change." keanu said, his voice rough from the day. he kissed y/n forehead lightly, barely brushing her skin, before heading upstairs to their bedroom. she stood there, her body tense, the kiss doing nothing to alleviate the storm of emotions swirling inside her. she wanted more than just a peck on the forehead.

she wanted all of him.

y/n needed him in a way that only passionate sex could satisfy. she couldn't even describe it properly how much she needed him to ruin her. but every night, the exhaustion seemed to win.

keanu reappeared a few minutes later, now in a pair of loose sweatpants and a faded band tee. he sank into the couch with a groan, his head leaning back as he closed his eyes. the sight of him like this - vulnerable, weary - only intensified her desire. she couldn't wait any longer. she walked over to him and sat beside him, her hand gently caressing his cheek. "keanu." she whispered, her voice laced with yearning.

he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a tired but warm smile. "what is it, darling."

instead of answering, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. keanu responded, his lips moving against hers with a familiar softness, but there was a hesitation in his touch. undeterred, y/n deepened the kiss, her hand sliding down his chest, grazing his almost unnoticeable bulge ever so slightly. keanu pulled back, confusion written in his eyes. "y/n, wait..."

but she didn't want to wait. she knew what she wanted and that was definitely him. she straddled his lap, pressing herself against him, desperate to finally feel him against her. the moment she felt his dick pressing into her, her hips began to grind down on him hard. "I need you keanu." she murmured against his lips, her voice trembling with desire.

he placed his hands on her hips, gently but firmly stopping her movements. "I'm... I'm tired, love. I just don't have the energy." the words hit her like a slap in the face. y/n pulled back, her expression hardening as anger flared up inside her.

"tired?" she echoed, voice tinging with disbelief. "we haven't had sex in weeks, keanu! I know you're exhausted, but so am I! don't you think I need you too?"

Keanu's brows furrowed, his weariness replaced by frustration. "of course I know that, but I've been pushing myself to the limit every day. this movie - its grueling. you know how demanding it is!"

y/n stood up abruptly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I'm not asking for much! just one night, keanu. I want to feel close to you again, to remind myself that we're not just co-stars living in the same house!"

his eyes flashed with anger, his own patience wearing thin. "and you think I don't want that too? I'm not some machine, y/n! I'm giving everything I have there, and when I come home, I'm spent. I'm sorry if that's not enough for you." the harshness of his words cut deep, and she felt a sting of tears in her eyes. she turned away from him, arms crossed over her chest, unable to bear the sight of him in that moment.

"I can't believe you don't see how much this is hurting me." she mumbled quietly, voice shaking. Keanu's silence was deafening. he watched her, his expression softening but he didn't budge. he knew he had a point.

y/n shook her head in disbelief. "I'm going to take a shower." she muttered. without another word, she walked away, leaving keanu alone in the living room.

as she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water cascading down felt like a small reprieve from the turmoil raging inside her. with a sigh she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hot stream, letting it wash over her, hoping it could cleanse away the anger and hurt she felt. but the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, mixing with the water as they fell from her cheeks. a sob escaped her mouth as she leaned her back against the wall, head tilting up. they had barely touched each other in weeks, and the absence of his touch, his presence, was like a void. she ached for him, and not forget to mention the sex. but every night it seemed to slip further away.

as the minutes passed, her anger began to ebb, replaced by a deep, gnawing sadness. she hated fighting with keanu, hated the distance between them. how had they come to this? they had been so happy, passionate, so in sync. all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before the movie had taken over their lives.

y/n wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard the bathroom door creak open. her heart skipped a beat as she opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, expecting to see keanu standing there. he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, his expression softened by an apology that had yet to be spoken. he was still wearing his sweatpants, but his shirt was gone, revealing his toned body she loved so much.

"y/n." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoed in the small space. she didn't respond, her eyes flickering with a mix of emotions - anger, hurt and a desperate yearning. keanu took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers as he reached for the hem of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them down. y/n watched, her breath catching in her throat as he stripped down, his vulnerability in that moment touching her in a way she hadn't expected. he stood there for a moment, hesitating, as if unsure whether she would welcome him or push him away. but then he stepped into the shower, the water immediately soaking his hair, his body, as he closed the distance between them.

his hands found her waist, and he pulled her to him, their wet bodies pressing together as the stream enveloped them. "I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

she looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any trace of anger that had been there before, but all she saw was regret, love and... lust. "I just... I miss you keanu." she admitted, voice trembling. "I miss us." he nodded, his forehead resting against hers. "I know, and I miss you too. I've been so caught up in everything - the training, fighting scenes- I lost sight of what really matters." he cupped her face in his hands, this thumbs brushing away the lingering tears on her cheeks. "I'm here now y/n. I'm right here."

the sincerity of his voice broke down the last of her defenses. she leaned into him, her hands gripping his arms as she felt the warmth of his body against her own. Keanu's lips found hers, this time with a tenderness that melted away the frustration that had built up inside her. the kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that he was there with her, fully present in that moment.

they stayed like that for a while, the water pouring over them as their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy. his hands roamed over her whole body, slightly squeezing her breasts. his touch ignited a fire within her that she had longed to feel for weeks. y/n responded with equal fervor, her fingers sliding up and down his chest. "keanu," she breathed as she pulled away from their intense kiss. she looked at him with lust filled eyes, wanting him right now. "I need you."

his response was a low groan as he gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her up. instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to her aching body. the passion between them was undeniable, a raw, primal need that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. keanu pressed her against the cold tile wall, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck as she arched against him. her arms wrapped around his neck, a moan slipping past her lips. he passionately started to suck and lick on the sensitive skin, enjoying the sounds she was making.

her excitement just grew even more when she felt his hard cock press up against her tingling pussy. slowly, she started to move against him to gain some friction, eliciting a low growl from him. "please more, keanu." she whimpered. he pulled away from her neck and looked at her with those eyes that would make her weak every time. "my little impatient girl."

the hand that rested loosely on her neck, sneaked it's way down to her aching cunt, slowly, going up and down between her wet folds. he moaned out at the feeling, giving her a peck on the lips. "you're so wet for me baby." he mumbled as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her warm walls. "ah- just f-for you." y/n whined out. he scissored his fingers inside her before he arched his fingers up, pressing directly onto that spot that made her see stars. when he began to thrust his fingers up, a loud moan escaped her throat and her head flew back in bliss.

her grip on keanu tightened and she rocked against his fingers, needing to feel him even more. the pace of his fingers increased, making her a moaning mess already. he just knew too well how to make her fold. her walls started to flutter around his digits, the coil in her abdomen slowly building up. "fuck, daddy!" she breathed out as her eyes shut close.

"you're doing so good for me baby." he rumbled right into her ear, licking a stripe down her neck. the sight of her made keanu twitch in excitement, needing her just as much, he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. after a few more strokes of his fingers, he pulled out of her slippery hole, making her cry out at the denial, her forming orgasm fading away. "daddy..." she whined, staring up at him with those puppy eyes. a smirk played on Keanu's lips when he heard her desperate cries.

"don't you want to come around daddy's cock?"

her mouth opened a little, but she just nodded silently in reply, eyes sparkling with desire at the thought of it. "of course you want it, little slut." he growled before he lined up with her welcoming entrance. with a swift move of his hips, he slid into her hole with ease, filling her up to the brim. a loud squeal escaped y/n‘s throat at the feeling of getting ripped open by his dick. she would never get used to his size, doesn’t matter how many times they would fuck.

the burning pain washed through her whole body and her face scrunched up in discomfort. keanu watched her face closely, observing her every reactions. he didn’t move, waiting for her to get used to him and tell him to start.

he would always do that. he wanted her to feel safe and comfortable around him.

but there definitely were times where he wouldn’t care a bit about her comfort, completely showing off his dominant side.

and y/n secretly loved this.

obviously.

she breathed in sharply before she opened her eyes, immediately meeting keanu‘s lustful gaze.

"you can move.“ a quiet whisper echoed in the room. his grip on her body tightened before he began to thrust inside her with a slow but hard pace. the second he began to move, her world turned upside down.

she had missed this way too much. missed him way too much.

y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tighter to him, her face buried in the crook of it. keanu grabbed her thighs harder before he began to move her body against his, meeting his own thrusts. his lips found hers, capturing her mouth in a heated kiss. their lips moved against each other with desire and when y/n let out a whimper, keanu slipped his tongue in, fighting for dominance.

hot, high pitched moans filled the air as the water poured down on them, adding even more intimacy to their long desired moment.

"please go faster keanu.“ she whimpered as she pulled away from the kiss and the second the words left her lips, he increased his speed, clashing his hips faster, more furiously against her.

"oh fuck.“ she moaned out at his pace. one of john’s hand wandered up her body, caressing her tits, squeezing ever so harshly and pulling on her hardened nipples before it grabbed ahold of y/n‘s throat. his grip was harsh and he pushed her head back against the tile wall, making her look at him.

"is that what you wanted?“ keanu asked, his hips rutting harsher and faster into her at every word that came out of his mouth.

with the pressure of his hand on her throat and the intense hammering of his hips, y/n can’t even think straight, her senses are completely dazed, all she has on her mind is keanu and how good and hard he’s fucking her. she doesn’t even comprehend his words.

a harsh slap on her cheek, drives her back into reality and her eyes shoot open to look at him. he’s already staring at her with harsh, darkened eyes.

"answer. me.“ he growled as he tightened the grip around her throat even more, almost cutting off her airways and just fucked rougher into her.

"mh-yes, that’s- that’s what i wanted.“ she managed to mewl out before she focused on the pleasure he was giving to her again. in reply, keanu just smirked darkly before he completely pulled out of her.

with knitted eyebrows and mouth wide agape, she looked up at him with confusion written all over her face. "what- what’s wrong?“ she mumbled.

wordlessly, keanu set her down and with the blink of an eye she was turned around and mushed up against the frigid glass wall. he reached around her middle, pulled her hips back, and made her arch her back. with his knee, he pushed her wobbly legs wide open and with a sharp thrust he filled her hole up again. "keanu!“ she yelled out, pressing her palms against the glass for support but it was useless. he immediately started off with a quick pace, hands placed on her hips.

the new angle allowed his tip to brush exactly into that one spot that made her knees go weak and eyes turn to the back of her scull. the cool sensation of the glass wall on her hardened nipples only added fuel to her receiving pleasure.

"my little slut. taking me so well.“ he murmured against her ear, his dick plunging into her in an animalistic speed and harshness.

too lost in the moment, y/n didn’t even notice when keanu sneaked a hand around her middle again and began to rub circles on her swollen clit, eliciting a loud and powerful whine that echoed in the room.

with the constant stimulation on her clit and g-spot, y/n felt her orgasm slowly building up and her legs began to tremble, almost giving out.

keanu seemed to notice this and wrapped his other hand around her upper body, supporting her in the best way possible. hearing her sweet moans and cry’s sent waves of pleasure through his whole body, getting closer and closer to his release as well. his eyes fell closed and his head leaned back, enjoying the feeling of her warm, velvety walls wrapped around him so perfectly.

the speed of his fingers increased and y/n‘s moans began to get louder and louder, almost reaching her peak.

"im gonna cum, daddy!“

with an answering groan, keanu pounded into her deeper than before and sped up his moving hips to their maximum, his fingers pressing and circling her nub harsher.

"cum with me princess.“ he snarled as he finally let go, spurting all of his seed deep inside of her. his orgasm triggered y/n‘s own and with a pornographic moan she stumbled over the edge, coming hard around him. keanu fucked her through their orgasms, letting them ride it out.

"oh god, keanu!“ she yelled out at the intense fire burning inside of her as she pressed her cheek against the wall.

his movements slowed down and after a few thrusts his hips came to an halt. y/n gasped out, breathing heavily. keanu now wrapped both of his arms around her body lovingly, pressing his chest to her back.

"you did so good for me y/n.“ he whispered, voice soft, placing a small kiss to her temple.

carefully, keanu pulled out of her hole, eliciting a groan from both of them, and turned her around.

"i‘m sorry y/n. i shouldn’t have treated you like this. i- just- i hope you forgive me.“ the man mumbled, pressing his forehead against hers. she wrapped her arms around his torso, enjoying the warmth of his body.

"of course i forgive you. i‘m so relieved that we finally talked about all this, that you finally understand how i feel.“ she replied with a softness in her tone.

how could she ever be mad at him. he’s her whole world.

keanu smiled at her words and captured her face, pulling her into an passionate kiss. but the kiss showed off all of his emotions - love, happiness, sorrow, tenderness. y/n returned the kiss with equal fever, pulling him closer.

"i love you doll.“ he whispered against her lips.

"i love you too.“ she smiled before clashing her lips once again onto his.

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Toshinori Yagi x F!Reader -> Mirio Togata x F!Reader

word count: 7.8k

contents: Canon divergence for final war arc and beyond, friends to lovers with history, reader has a defined quirk (magnetism) and is a support equipment safety consultant, reader is 29 and Mirio is 30, appearances from other heroes (Deku & Bakugou and they are married, in their 20's)

cw: major character death and discussions of aspects of caretaking for someone at the end of their life, discussions of loss and grief

notes: This idea could not have come to fruition without my most beloved @izvmimi and @bakvrue so thank you to them for always being the very best. I have really been having a Mirioaissance lately and as you all know I love Mr. Might so here goes. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3

“I’m dying.”

Mirio Togata nearly chokes mid-swallow, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to prevent droplets of tea from seeping out of his lips. It’s a rare Wednesday day off for Lemillion and sunlight pours into the expansive room used as an office at. He’s a guest in the home of one of the most prolific heroes of all time, as he often is, though today he was invited by the man himself instead of showing up to pop in and say hello.

All Might, Toshinori Yagi, is dying.

Technically he has been for years though hearing it from the man’s own mouth feels different than the vague conversations about ‘terminal’ and ‘incompatible organs’. 

“No,” the younger man starts but Toshinori raises a hand to stop him, shaking his head with a chuckle.

It’s no secret he has been rapidly looking more and more frail as autumn faded into winter which is now melting into the bright green of spring.

“It’s true. No matter how many times you tell me ‘you can get better’ or ‘medical technology is improving’ it will not change the fact that my time has a finite number on it.”

There has been a finite amount of his life remaining for a very long time, he’s simply managed to dodge it for as long as possible. Running away from the truth is no longer an option, the years he has been given since the War and its finish already leaving the man feeling like a perpetual cheat. He was supposed to die then, and then after that, and then again and again and again…

There are no more ducks and dodges left in him. 

“Midoriya knows and has accepted it. It’s time for you to do the same.”

The words would be harsh coming from anyone other than a beloved mentor turned friend though Yagi has always had the natural ability to soften blows when necessary. Mirio nods, blue eyes trained toward the ground and refusing to meet those of the man in the comfortable chair next to him. He dares to take a peek at the man who will forever be known as All Might, the thinness of his hands and arms and wrists alone a surprising sight. Time has run out. No medical science or quirk or act of God can reverse the inevitable. A transplant cannot save him, medicine will not save him, and he’s made the decision to be as comfortable as possible over the remaining weeks to months he has left. 

Togata’s mind unconsciously drifts to you in all of this. You are the young woman who has devoted the latter half of her twenties to taking care of this iconic man, tending to his illnesses and the complications from them with a smile and a joke, a reassuring hand on his shoulder and a kiss on his forehead. The younger of the pair has witnessed this kindness himself on more than one occasion and he remembers when you were simply a Support course student at UA high school a year younger than Mirio himself. You assisted with equipment in the war and it has followed you through your adulthood, your support item safety consulting business thriving and helping build a safer world.

The way you care about everyone is so admirable, it’s difficult not to view you as a hero in all of this. Mirio raises a brow and balls his hands together into a fist, letting it rest in his lap. 

“How does she feel about, well, everything?”

It’s a daring question to ask given the older man is well aware of the younger man’s affection toward you no matter how discreet he thinks he is about it. It’s the perpetual elephant in the room.  Toshinori sighs, shifting in his chair and positioning his hands in his lap. Mirio’s eyes dart from them and toward the older man’s sallow face, noting the hint of a smile at the mention of you. 

“She was the first person to know. It’s the least I could give her for wasting her youth on a sorry old man like me.”

Togata offers a tight smile and tilts his head to the side. The self deprecation isn’t anything new, it has been like this the last several years, though it never sits well when the man he has attempted to pattern his own morals over says something so blasphemous about himself. 

“That’s a pretty downer way to look at things, All Might.”

This gets a chuckle from the older man, the sound of his head shaking against the back of his chair causing the younger one to look up at him curiously. 

“It’s a pretty downer thing to die but telling you it’s coming isn’t the only reason I asked you here today.”

The older man clears his throat, wiping his thumb against his bottom lip and looking away, joining his hand in his lap. How can he properly phrase what he’s asking his young friend to do without it seeming sordid and disrespectful? He’s leaving you his legacy when he goes. His home, his royalties that will keep you well taken care of for the rest of your life and, well, he’s planning on leaving Mirio Togata the one gift he deserves the most - you. 

He simply lays the plot down, hands still folded in his lap.

“How long have you loved her, kid?”

Mirio feigns shock that his mentor, the one who came after the one he lost years ago, is onto him. He has always played off his affection for you as friendliness and lingering glances as simply curiosity and assumed he has been doing it well enough that nobody notices.

“It’s not like that.”

Toshinori laughs, a weak cough wracking his body and he raises his fist to his grinning mouth to cover it. Mirio leans forward in his seat, reaching for the man who waves him off and instead leans to grab the bottle of hand sanitizer on the desk next to him. 

“You are a grown man, Togata. Own up to it. It’s not going to offend me.”

There was no expectation of a trip down memory lane set for the younger man prior to arriving for this visit yet his mind launches into years of fuzzy and undefined memories. Evenings he’d come to visit you in the Support course workshop when he was younger with fewer scars covering his arms and torso, the few times in your early twenties you sat thigh to thigh with him in dimly lit izakaya hanging out with your mutual group of friends and their respective partners who are also heroes. He remembers too much and too little at the same time, skin crawling. 

Shifting in his seat, he unclasps his hands and claps them against his thighs. 

“A long, long time.” He finally responds and Toshinori chuckles in response, leaning back in his own chair and sliding one of his hands out toward Mirio. “Since I was in high school.”

The truth doesn’t hide forever. It makes him feel childish that he was so easily caught by the older man, replaying years of interactions in his head. Did he smile a little too wide at you? Glance a little too long? Pine a little too openly?

There is no way for him to change anything that has happened before now and the usually easy going man tensely lifts his head, meeting Toshinori’s soft gaze. There is no anger even if these events crossed boundaries, something the man is infinitely grateful for, and he reaches across the desk to take his mentor’s offered hand. 

“I know.” He weakly squeezes the younger man’s hand, his lack of strength more evident than ever. Mirio feels emotion welling up inside of him and blinks it back, taking a deep breath. “That’s why I am asking you to give her the life I never could, Togata. Take her traveling when you can. Remind her that she’s brilliant and will probably keep this country safer than any hero ever could. Just…be there for her. For me.”

The request carries more weight than the older man could ever possibly understand. It’s not merely a responsibility but a strange kind of bequeathing. No formal paperwork, no meetings with officials, just two men discussing a woman they both care about deeply and how to best assuage her in the sorrows to come. 

It also brings another question to Mirio’s mind he has contemplated for many years - do you have lingering feelings for him too? A far younger version of you, magnetism quirk engaged and using it to make him laugh, certainly did. He assumed those feelings just vaporized over time and with responsibility, your heart belonged to another man before he could ever ask that it be his.

A noble man. A good man who you did not want to see live lonely, by himself in his ailing years. A man Togata spent his entire life trying to emulate.

There’s a flutter of hope through the sorrow of knowing the end is coming for his friend and the younger man is the one to squeeze the older mans’ this time, gentle firm pressure to ensure it doesn’t hurt.

“I know it’s a big request. I don’t blame you if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’d like to say no,” Toshinori adds quickly. “I simply know that she cares about you a lot and always has.” His voice cracks and he swallows his sadness, only grateful that his life has been so glorious the last few years thanks to your gentle touch and your silly stories and your tendency to ad-lib songs to make him smile. “She deserves to be happy.”

The younger man couldn’t agree more. He nods, emotion continuing to rise, breaking eye contact to gaze down at his lap to allow him a moment to compose himself. For his entire twenties, he regretted losing his chance with you despite his gratefulness for the care and love you gave Toshinori. Now, entering his thirties, he gets the opportunity to try again. To speak up when he should and to put the feelings he has harbored for more than a decade to good use.

“I will do everything I can to make sure she is, you have my word.”

Even if it means you want nothing to do with him and keep yourself away from everyone forever. Whatever makes you happy, Mirio Togata will make sure you have it. 

“I only have weeks. Months if I’m lucky but I don’t think I’m all that lucky anymore.”

The words make Mirio look up from his lap, brows furrowed. He didn’t think there was so little time left but he is a man of action and nods.

“Then let’s make these next few weeks memorable. What do you need me to do?”

A chuckle from the older man as he finally drops the younger one’s hand gently, tucking it back into his lap to join the other.

“For now, just be around if you can make it work.”

That he can do and he does for three more weeks.

On a warm spring day, a little past the end of cherry blossom season, the world loses All Might.

‘The days I spent with you were the happiest of my life. Let me take care of you for the rest of yours. - Toshinori’

The note he left you, the one you were handed by some man in a suit you’d never met before in the days following his death, rests on your desk. It feels too soon to tuck away the increasingly wrinkled piece of paper and you’re far too grateful for the life he has put between your two palms to stop glancing at the note every few hours each day.

It doesn’t answer any of the questions you have about what becomes of your life now though.

Emotion wells up in you again, a lump in your throat you have to swallow down to continue working, the results from your audit of the Dynamight agency’s safety audit on the screen of the tablet in front of you. They’re generally highly rated, Bakugou’s fastidious tendencies seeping through even the smallest detail of safety and care of his employees, but you have to look away. You close the screen cover and slide the device aside, standing up from your spot at the kitchen table to walk into the living room.

The house feels like a mausoleum even if it’s now yours and yours only. Being alone for the first time in weeks leaves a strange taste in your mouth and you fold your arms over your chest, padding across the wooden floors to plop down on the overstuffed couch you picked out three years ago. Deku’s wife spent a week by your side, the first seven days after the tremendous loss ensuring you ate and slept, sleeping in your bed with you and letting you cry on her shoulder. The day she went home hurt almost as badly as the day you lost the man himself, the encroaching loneliness feeling claustrophobic.

Thankfully, the second week was dotted with various visitors, your former classmates and long time friends of Toshinori paying their respects posthumously by being good to you in his departure. Dynamight’s wife tended to you and forced you out of your house, inviting you over with the promise of visiting with her eager to see you children. 

The third week was much of the same, even chatting with his old friend David and accepting condolences from other heroes former and current. Your refrigerator stayed full, your mailbox overstuffed with more cards than you could open wishing you well and thanking you for taking care of him.

The fourth fewer people came but you still stayed busy. The fifth, same. The sixth, seventh, and eighth all followed suit although the amount of visitors thinned. Ninth, tenth, eleventh your house became empty outside of your close friends and Mirio. Now you are twelve weeks past his death and facing down a lifetime of uncertainty in a house that feels too large for you but too small for your pain.

Your heart swells recalling the love you’ve been given but it shrivels when you look around, wondering when it will start to feel full of life again; when you will.

Standing, you lumber over to the wall adjacent to where you sit, admiring the artwork and memories on the wall. There are photos of a freckle-faced teenager who became a freckle-faced man with his wife and children alongside Toshinori. Photos of Mirio grinning and giving a thumbs up in a vintage American All Might t-shirt that was almost too small for him. Photos of you and Toshinori smiling side by side when he was still well enough to attend the occasional event, you in glittering floor length sequins and him in a custom suit built to accommodate his ever weakening body. 

Sighing, you reach out and brush your thumb along the frame. The photo doesn’t move, anchored into the wall, and you know that all of the care you gave him wasn’t wasted for a moment. He truly made your life better and you believe you did the same for him, though your eyes flit back to the photo of Mirio for a moment. 

You took the picture a few years back while cleaning out the spare bedroom used solely for merchandise and collectables Toshinori had been given over the years. You accosted the younger blonde for pulling a shirt that was clearly too small for him over his head but snapped the photo anyway, grinning behind your phone at his silly posing. 

Mirio. 

He has been here for you almost as much as your closest friends, popping by daily if able with food or stories or just…sunshine, which is exactly what he is and always has been for the time you’ve known him. Even when the two of you were back in high school he knew your favorite candy and delivered it to your desk daily while spending his evenings sticking paper clips to your arm or the side of your face while your quirk was engaged.

Reaching into your pocket, you grab out your phone and dial his number. He answers before the first ring can even finish its trill.

“Hey-o, what are you doing?”

You giggle at his greeting though he hears the strain in your voice that indicates you are feeling down. He tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling his sweatpants on in the changing room of the agency, ready to head home. 

“Nothing. I tried to work a little bit today and couldn’t focus. I’m sure Bakugou will bitch at me but his audit will simply have to wait another week.”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckles, rising to his full impressive stature and heading toward the exit.

“Do you need a distraction? I could come over.”

The offer is appreciated but you wrestle with how to respond to it. What you assumed were long forgotten feelings for Mirio surface every time you are around him and in your grief and confusion, you struggle to separate them from reality and what’s a balm to make you feel temporarily better. Would seeing him now, only three months removed from losing Toshinori, be appropriate? Is it what’s best?

“You don’t have to, I’m sure it was a long day.”

Togata scoffs, using his coded keycard to exit the building. The sun is still somewhat up, a hot summer evening encroaching and he does not want to go home when he could be spending time with you. The day exhausted him a bit, lots of petty crime picks up during the summertime, but he’s never too tired for you.

“Actually, this was the easiest shift I’ve had in a long time.” He’s lying and you can tell by the lilt in his voice, a particular tone he takes when he’s pretending everything is fine you’ve heard before but you are in no condition to press the issue. “I can pick you up in about thirty minutes and we can just drive if you want?”

You shake your head although he can’t see it. Part of you wants to say no, to rebuff your own feelings once and for all, but you’re weak and hurting and needy. 

“We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just stay here if you want to come.”

And come he does, in that promised thirty minutes. He doesn’t bother to knock on the door anymore, punching in the code and announcing himself with a boisterous smile, then plopping down on the couch next to you.

It feels a lot more like coming home than it reasonably should but every time he feels guilty for envisioning his place in his life, next to you, he remembers the promise he made. He will make you happy no matter what that looks like.

Time passes so quickly when he’s around and it’s welcome to have something besides your own loneliness to listen to while he explains one of his heroic saves of the day, enthusiastically explaining phasing through a tree to capture a runaway attempted bank robber.

“So I caught the guy and somehow managed to save all the money too, which is crazy when you think about it. I thought the wind would carry half of it off but not today.”

You smile at him fondly, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he can tell something else is on your mind. Repositioning himself on the couch, he turns toward you and props his head up with his fist.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He has always been able to tell when something is bothering you and your brain screams that you should say no. You should turn down all of Mirio’s kindness and lock yourself inside of this home with your grief forever, a timeless pseudo-widow trapped in a prison of her own making.

But the warmth of his gaze encourages you so much, words bubble out of you before you can stop them, your hands instantly flying to your face to be pressed against your cheeks.

“Despite what people have said, I loved him.” 

Mirio’s face falls into a concerned frown when he notices your eyes welling up, your glance firmly trained on his face. The papers were pretty harsh to you when the news of his death and your subsequent appointing the heir to his agency, legacy, and image were announced. Opportunistic seemed to be the media’s favorite term, honing in on the age and vitality difference between the two of you rather than the fact a fairly selfless young woman took care of him not knowing any of this was in her future.

You never took care of him in hopes of getting anything, only out of compassion for a man who has made the lives of others so much brighter. Who heals the healer? You took it upon yourself to be the one and you do not regret a moment of it, sitting cross legged at twenty-nine with a sense of pride despite it all.

“Maybe not in a conventional way. I never had,” your face falls a little, as though you’re fearful of reaction toward what you’re about to say. “You know…sex or anything with him. We kissed a few times, we held hands on occasion but my days and nights revolved around him for five years.”

Your voice breaks and immediately you push your thumbs against your eyes to keep yourself from crying where someone else can see it although the sniffling gives you away, sharp little inhalations through your nose. 

“What do I do now?”

The question appears to be rhetorical though he feels compelled to answer, wrapping a reassuring arm around your shoulders and gently pulling you against his side. The lack of personal space between the two of you is honestly nothing new, certainly more so since Toshinori’s departure, and you settle into the warmth of him. It’s a comfort you need desperately, his fingers drumming a little beat of four into your shoulder.

“Whatever you want.” 

You remove your thumbs from over your eyes, sensitive and red rimmed as they are, glancing at the man next to you carefully. The brightness of your living room causes you to squint and he reaches his free hand to wipe tears from your bottom lashes, his crooked index finger pressing delicately against your skin.

“I know that sounds callous and it probably is the wrong thing to say but your life isn’t over just because he isn’t here to watch you live it.” Now it’s Mirio’s voice that cracks and he clears his throat, hand flexing against where it rests on your upper arm. “He left you the tools to live however you want. You have a successful business, you are young and beautiful and…”

He trails off and you blink at him silently. The true feelings he has tried so desperately to hide for the years he has known you are seeping out of him. How much longer can he possibly hold it in before the pressure starts to cause cracks? Before it spills out of him wildly, an ode to you from a boy who has loved you since seventeen?

You stop him from spiraling, opening your mouth to speak while tears escape over his finger and roll down your face.

“I think I’m scared, Mirio.” 

This is the first time you’ve admitted it, even to yourself. An undefined future is a terrifying prospect and while Toshinori was here, you were guaranteed to always have him. Scheduled pills and injections, showers and quality of life activities. Even your work is unstructured outside of your scheduled annual audits, only being called upon when you are needed. 

He holds you against him, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead. This could be just what you need and although he worries about pushing boundaries, you prove his worries wrong by snuggling further into his side. Your tears drip onto the cotton of his t-shirt and he uses his second hand to begin wiping them away, shushing you gently and affectionately.

“It’s okay to be afraid, he wouldn’t judge you for that, but don’t let it make you waste the opportunity to live exactly how you want.” His words are comforting and you nod against his chest, sniffling. “There is no right or wrong way to handle this.”

This is the first time anyone has told you that it’s okay to not know what to do right now. Not that you’ve ever asked, too fearful of making missteps to try and prevent them at all. You need reassurance and although you’ve been given it, it’s hard not to seek it from a man you’ve found so much comfort in over the past few months. He has been vulnerable with you, it seems only right to do the same for him in return. 

Sighing, you unbury your face from his chest. “Do you think I’m doing okay?”

There is a version of you, more than a decade younger than you are now, that lives in Mirio’s mind and he sees her in the way you look up at him with uncertain eyes. It strikes him how long the two of you have known each other; how long he has been dancing around his feelings for you. He nods, removing his arm from your shoulder to cup your cheeks in his palms.

The urge to kiss away those tears is strong but he talks himself down, tilting your head until your gazes fully meet. All of the love he has kept to himself for a decade further threatens to spill out. He stops himself, self restraint a requirement of being a hero after all, and his thumbs gently stroke the rose petal soft skin beneath them.

“You’re doing better with all of this than anyone else ever could.”

There are no words he has ever meant more than these besides the ones he decides to keep to himself, saving the oft considered ‘I love you’ for another day. 

“Thank you. For everything. I kind of worry I’m asking too much from you,” you rush to apologize and he keeps his grip on your face gentle but firm. 

“You can ask me for anything you need.”

He means it more than he meant his promise to the last man that loved you.

“Alright, I think we’ve had as much fun as we are going to have. Babysitters get paid hourly, you know.”

Katsuki wraps his arm around his wife’s shoulders, pulling her close to him beneath the same lights the six of you used to drink under a long time ago while saying his goodbye. He has never been much of a drinker and hasn’t indulged even a bit tonight but his wife’s relaxed expression gives away how many beers she’s had and you giggle at her, squeezing her hand as she walks by on their way out.

“Be careful you two,” you call after them, Mirio turning to look at you while you glance over your shoulder. Only Midoriya and his wife remain seated across from you two, snuggled in the corner of their side of the booth. Deku’s ever lovely better half raises a brow and nudges her husband in the ribs gently, subtly motioning toward where the pair of you sit.

This is the first night you’ve really enjoyed yourself in the six months since you’ve lost Toshinori. It has been a great walk down a memory lane you haven’t bothered to explore in a long time.

“Gosh, he’s so grumpy,” you laugh to yourself and Mirio giggles beside you, looking as smitten as he always does. Izuku notices it and looks down at his wife, the two of them communicating wordlessly by the time you glance at them. “I’m guessing you two are next to head home?” You tease, your own brain slightly hazy from the few beers you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in. 

A little voice in the back of your head made you fear showing your face in public, especially after the scrutiny that came so few months ago, but nobody has taken a second glance at your group of friends despite all of the men in the group landing in the top five of the Hero standings. It appears whatever backlash was sparked has faded quickly. You make a note to thank the classmates you had that now work in the media who were likely behind it, hoping you remember it later.

You haven’t just had a good time tonight, you’ve had a great one. Smiling gratefully, you look over at your two remaining friends.

“Like Kacchan said, babysitters are paid hourly,” Deku raises his brows and shrugs. His wife kisses his cheek, beginning to slide out of the booth while he holds onto her hand and follows.

Mirio nods at Izuku and smiles at his wife, having known the two of them since high school as well, the same story with the now gone Bakugou’s.

“Get that beautiful wife of yours home safe, Deku.” He jokes with a chuckle and his friend laughs in response, reaching across the table to pat his shoulder and then yours. 

It’s hard for him to believe how much has changed over these years but how much has remained the same simultaneously. His close friends married their high school sweethearts and settled into their family life, kids and recitals and dinner parties. A piece of him has wondered for years if that could have been the two of you as well if he’d left less up to chance as a young man.

Does it do any good to wonder? Mirio doesn’t know yet he does often, tonight especially.

“You ready to go?”

A little lost in your own world, you look up at him with your eyebrows raised and nod slowly. He looks so handsome, even in this poorly lit room, and heat rises in your face straight to the tips of your ears. It has been a long time since you’ve felt that particular heat, the kind that makes your stomach flip flop.

Would it be wrong of you to ask him if he wants to hang out with you for a little while longer? You don’t have ill intentions in wanting to spend time with him, at least that’s what you tell yourself, and the few beers have made you feel brave.

“Do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? We can just go back to the house or find somewhere else or…” you trail off slightly, a little self conscious. Do you seem desperate? Lonely? Annoying? “If you don’t want to though, I understand.” 

Finishing your question hurriedly, you glance up at Mirio who looks at you with that same earnest stare he has given you for years. There are depths in those pretty blue eyes, humor and pain that he has experienced and joy and so much. There is simply so much more to this man than most people know and unexpectedly, it isn’t just your face that feels too hot, it’s the entire room.

“Of course I do. Let me just take you home and we can hang out there, that way I’m not keeping a lady out too late.”

He knows he’s taking a risk by being outright flirtatious with you after months of trying to keep it subtle. He is but a man and knows that look, though. That ‘through the lashes, lips slightly parted, beautiful woman who wants to spend time with you’ look. He’d be a fool to say no, even if you two do nothing but talk for hours. There’s nothing else he’d rather do with the remnants of his night anyway.

“After you,” he offers with a bright grin. The few beers he has had make his cheeks pink and you want to reach out and touch them but refrain, uncertain of how to do all of this correctly. You’ve never really dated, outside of a few hookups in your early twenties, so this is truly foreign territory. It’s a lot to wrestle with the guilt of moving on, something you have reluctantly admitted to yourself it seems you’re doing, and the weight of grief on your shoulders at all times. 

When does it ever get better or at the very least, when does it become less of a struggle?

Saving those questions for another, less fun evening you slide out of the booth and he follows after, placing his hand against your back to walk you out of the bar. It feels natural, his fingers splayed across your spine and heat once again blooms. It’s embarrassing to feel so excited by sheer touch.

Your relationship with Toshinori was never sexual. Always a companion more so than a lover despite the deep love that bloomed between the two of you, you spent a lot of nights in a different bed exploring your own body while he slept in his own room down the hall. This was always the arrangement, comfortable for both of you. He was physically incapable of having sex and you never wanted to make him feel like less because of it, still complimenting his appearance and doing your best to make him feel attractive. Which he was, even until the end that smile and those jovial blue eyes had the ability to light up a room.

It’s just different with Mirio. This isn’t the first time that heat has bloomed beneath your belly button, begging you to follow it all the way down a rabbit hole you aren’t quite sure you are ready for and the alcohol is making it worse tonight. If he can tell, he’s being a gentleman about it, something to be grateful about.

The two of you stand in the now cool autumn night air, the city still noisy outside. The breeze chills your warm cheeks and you look up at him to find him glancing down at you, wearing an expression that tells him some of the same things on your mind are on his.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question is laced with humor, as most of what the man says tends to be, and you feel caught with your pants down. Playing it off with a giggle, you decide to push back; to make him feel like he’s the one being surveyed instead. 

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were in high school?”

The topic of first kisses came up tonight, your friends reminiscing about how they’ve shared their first everything together throughout the years, and you recall yours being lackluster. Some guy you went to college with named Dai who slobbered all over your face your first year.

Certainly not who you would’ve preferred sharing a kiss with.

Your question has caught Mirio off guard and he rubs his neck, scrunching his nose and refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is that he was simply too afraid to make a move and by the time he was able to, it felt improper given the conflict and all that happened.

It was hardly a time for making a move on the girl you had a crush on and the two of you just went your separate ways after that. He became a Pro Hero, working his way up into the top 15 within his first year and then the top 10 the next and only climbing from there, you went to college to pursue your public safety certification. By the time you were able to reconnect in your early twenties, your lives had diverged so wildly it no longer felt appropriate to, well, go after you.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “I think I was afraid you didn’t like me back.” Snorting, you attempt to stifle your laughter. He glances down at you, tilting his head, feigning offense.

“Really? I’m being honest with you and you’re going to laugh at me?”

Wrapping your arm around his bicep, you attempt damage control by resting your head against him. A breathy sigh leaves you and you glance upward to catch him staring down at you once again.

“I had such a crush on you that even Hatsume gave me shit about it.” You speak through your nose, attempting the now most sought after equipment outfitter in all of Japan's higher voice and inflection. “Where’s your little boyfriend, magnet girl?”

The two of you devolve into a fit of childish giggles, not unlike the ones you shared back then, and without warning he leans in close to you. You still cling to his bicep but he’s bent at the waist, lips inches from yours, one of his hands reaching to rest against the side of your neck.

“Can I make up for it now?”

Ocean eyes search yours, pleading for an answer. All of that heat courses through your body at once and without putting too much thought into any real consequence, you nod. Just a kiss won’t hurt either of you, for old time’s sake regardless of what may or may not be blooming here. Mirio closes the distance between the two of you and gently brushes his lips against yours, gentlemanly and chivalrous even in the throes his tremendous need to touch and feel and be close to you, and you whimper when he pulls away sooner than you liked.

“Was that okay?”

Giggling, you lean in and kiss him again to give him his reply. It was more than okay, it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, a sharp comparison to the well kept and bulky rest of him that you have had to stop yourself from eyeing hungrily on more than one occasion. His mouth tastes like salt and beer and love.

Pure love lives on his tongue that is working its way into your mouth while he hurriedly backs you two into a narrow alleyway between the bar you just left and the building next to it. His knee rests between your barely parted legs and your hands reach for anything they can grab, forearms and biceps and his shoulders and chest. You touch recklessly, one hand sliding up the side of his neck to cup his jaw and the other rubbing circles just beneath the hem of his shirt, above his belt buckle.

“Hey,” he stops you unexpectedly to catch his breath, chest heaving while he glances down at you. “I want to keep this going but I have to tell you first that I love you.”

There it is. The thing he has been keeping to himself for twelve long, torturous years. Mirio loves you so fiercely he wonders how he’s managed to even breathe the last 12 years without you by his side, your laughter and light filling his days and nights no matter how they go. 

How could he ever live without you again? He isn’t sure that he could.

Blinking up at him, you slide your hand further up his face and tousle his blonde hair between your fingers. 

“I don’t care if it’s too soon for you to say it back or if you ever will but I love you. I have for such a long time it hurts to keep it to myself any longer.”

The smile on your face turns into a full blown grin, fingers still snaked in his hair. Maybe it’s too soon, maybe lust is winning the battle between your wits and your heart or maybe this is a chance to say something you’ve felt for longer than you realized. 

“I love you too, Mirio.”

It doesn’t make your love for Toshinori any less real to admit you love the man who has been by your side for virtually 24 hours a day for the last six months and long before that too. 

He leans back in and kisses you again, silencing any thoughts other than the two of you and it leaves you breathless, gently grinding against his jean clad thigh and sucking on his tongue. Another pause and he pulls away, cupping your face. 

“Take me home with you.”

It isn’t a plea of desperation but one of pure unadulterated need. He needs you, any way you’ll let him have you, tonight. 

Nodding, you close the distance and press your lips against his.

“Let’s go.”

In all the time that has passed since you lost Toshinori, your home feels a little brighter when you arise in it each day. 

It feels like somewhere you can build your own life now instead of living trapped inside the memory of his. You were concerned that changing anything about this place would rob you of the comfort of having once loved the man who left it to your care but you know he wouldn’t want you to stand in one place for long. All those months ago, Mirio was right when he told you that Toshinori would want you to make the best of what you’ve been given.

Move forward, he’d assure you if he were still here. Be yourself and find happiness.

Despite all the ways you’re still healing, you have. 

You think about him every day. You will forever, regardless of the nature of your relationship and how other people view it. Some days the memory of him cuts through you like a knife, especially the last year of your life with him spent doing a lot more caretaking than you’d done the prior four, and other days it’s a gentle breeze. A whisper and reminder that he’s watching you, he loves you, he’s proud of you.

You’ve done the All Might legacy well, donating a large chunk of his fortune back to the communities he so committedly served. Scholarships for students who want to go to hero academies but may not have the pedigree or wealth to let them in, rebuilding the last remnants of an over decade old war that still scar areas of Musutafu tourists don’t visit. 

The dreams you have yet to fulfill with what you’ve been provided make your future seem more full than ever. Hospitals bearing his name, education about the balance of hero life and personal life, safety equipment becoming better than ever. Your ambitions are big and you will make them all come true, a vow you made to him on the day he died even if he wasn’t cognizant enough to understand what you were saying.

This is all for him, dearly departed, a man you cared so deeply about you would’ve taken care of him for ten more years if you had to. You’re grateful it didn’t come to that if only for his sake, the suffering his ailing body was facing more than you like to think about even today, but all things considered it was a good life. 

Even the papers have commended the woman they once referred to as an amoral opportunist. 

Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.

And today when your feet hit the ground, the sun rises and fills the room with light through the gauzy curtains you put up a few months back. The cat you recently adopted twines himself around your legs and looks up at you expectantly, breakfast already a few minutes late. You couldn’t go long without having something new to take care of, the cat was once a beat up little thing brought to you by Lemillion himself one evening after a shift that has grown into a demanding beast.

“Saving little lost cats is a bit cliche, isn’t it?” You joked when he unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and produced the fuzzy, green eyed lump that mewed at you the moment he saw you. Mirio grinned and half shrugged. “Yeah but I’m good at it, right?”

Good he is, you think looking over at his still sleeping form in your bed. 

For some, it may be too soon to cautiously lend your heart to another man. You love Toshinori and always will, the impact he left on your life is profound in ways you’ll discover for years to come, but a part of you has always loved Mirio even if circumstances prevented the pair of you from being together. He was once a silly teenager who was too afraid to ask you to be his girlfriend when he graduated high school, satisfied to leave things up to fate, and now he is a grown man who has been by your side through the most painful loss of your life so far, holding you together on the days when you were worried you would crumble.

Both of you are grateful that fate decided well although she took her time and brought a lot of pain on her way.

Instead of getting out of bed, you lean down and pick up your now purring cat and slide back into bed beside him, his hands instinctively reaching behind him for your thighs to pull you closer. 

“I didn’t think you were awake,” you whisper and he chuckles, scarred hand running up the expanse of your thigh while your cat climbs onto his shoulder and licks his face. There’s no use in trying to carefully swat the creature away so he lets him settle onto the pillow above his head. 

“I always notice when you get up and I have to fight the urge to follow you.”

Giggling, you wrap yourself around his back and rest your cheek between his bare shoulder blades.

“Why’s that?”

He finally turns to face you, blue eyes glancing down at the thing he has wanted for years. Your unmade, half awake face. The domesticity of your cat purring above both of your heads. The promise of packing to take a week off from heroics to go and enjoy a far off destination neither of you have been together.

“In case I ever lose you again,” he admits vulnerably and you smile up at him, hand reaching to cup his cheek.

The half awake mumblings have more truth to them then you could possibly imagine, fear that something else will hurt you or pull you away from him. Fear that he’s going to waste his time again, precious days he has always wanted to spend with you meaning nothing because he’s too cowardly to fight for what he wants. Maybe a younger version of Mirio Togata would have let this happen but not this one, older and wiser that he is. 

The ring he plans on proposing to you with this week is nestled in his suitcase, buried beneath too many pairs of socks and probably too few pairs of boxers. He won’t even mind a long engagement, if you need one, as long as he knows forever with you is what waits on the other side.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think we’re stuck together for life after all we’ve been through.”

As he promised his mentor a few months over a year ago, he will ensure that you are.

[antimony-medusa]

How To Set Up An Ao3 Exchange

One of the first things I say whenever anyone asks me about running exchanges is that if you have more than about 30 people in the exchange, do NOT try to match it by hand. That is so much work and takes so much time. Use Ao3's matching algorithm. And people say sure, and then they look at how Ao3 works and they go uhhhhhhhhhh I think we can make a google form work. Because google forms are reasonably intuitive to make work, and Ao3 exchanges are— not.

But the thing is, once you understand the underlying logic for Ao3 collections, they are not that bad, and seriously I can't overstate the benefit of having Ao3 do the matching for you. That's like the difference between 80 hours of curating data as it comes in and then matching it (what happened with hand-matching 325 people for holiday exchange), or 2 hours of double-checking the matching (what happened with matching 125 people for 48 hour exchange). You have to put in extra work to get an Ao3 exchange set up, but it super pays off in the end. So! Here is an intro to how Ao3 exchanges work on the back end. This explanation assumes you know how to sign up for an exchange because I've posted ones like that before, for example, here.

Let's get into it.

THE COLLECTION

The first thing you want to do is set up your exchange collection. If you go to your right-hand drop-down menu, you click on My Collections.

That brings you to every collection you have ever made, and you go to to the right and click "New collection".

That brings you into the back end of the collection. You want to go down and put in a name for the collection that will be the url (so no spaces), a display name, an email for the collection to email when something happens to the collection (this will be public, so use a fandom email), and a basic description.

There's places there to do custom icons and headers, but those are optional, but you can go in and make your exchange pretty later if you want!

We are still in the "setting up" stage of the exchange, so once we go to preferences, you want to select all the tick boxes and make it look like this.

Moderated means that you'll have to manually approve things to be added to the collection (not absolutely necessary but can keep out trolls, and it also means that you can manually check that gifts meet minimums before you let them in to the exchange), Closed means that no one can submit things to the collection yet (once you open your exchange you de-select this), Unrevealed means that any works in the collection will show up as "mystery works" and not be readable (so you keep it unrevealed until the posting date, so people can post early but not spoil the surprise), anonymous means that all authors will be anonymous (this depends on if you have an anonymous portion of your exchange, so it's optional), "show random works" just means that you get a selection of different works when people visit the collection at different times, "send a message to the collection email" is optional but is useful for moderation (like if you're checking people off a list when their gifts get delivered), and "type of challenge" you want to be set to "gift exchange".

and then on this page the only other things of concern are places where you can put in an FAQ, a description and some instructions, but those are all optional! I normally host the FAQ on tumblr, so I just say "go check the tumblr at [link]".

And then you hit the submit button.

Now we get into the nitty-gritty.

First up is some optional stuff— you can add in the times that you're going to do things! This is useful for communication, but not necessary. We're still setting everything up, so you do not want Sign-Ups to be open, that is only selected once you have everything ready to go.

Then scrolling down, you get to Requests and Offers.

This is where you specify the absolute minimum ships or characters that you want people to give you to sign up. 10 is the maximum Ao3 allows, so I always set it to 10 for both "allowed", which is the maximum the site will allow. And required is the low number. I usually set it to a minimum of three, to make sure someone doesn't sign up with "i will only write one ship" or something. This way, people will have to do a minimum of three separate requests and offers.

The "requests visible" is part of the back end thing, and it's up to you if you want to select it or not. If you keep it unselected, the only person who will be able to see requests is the mods, and eventually each person will see their assignment. If you select it, people will be able to browse everyone's requests and both maybe target offers so they can write for a specific person, and be able to find treats (extra bonus gifts) to write for people whose requests they like. Each side has its own benefits or negatives, it's up to you which ones you want to go with!

And here we get into more of the matching info! Let's look at Request Settings.

Now this is what the settings would look like for a multi-fandom exchange. The "details/description" box you want to make mandatory because that is where people will put their DNW and their prompts (and you absolutely want to make sure everyone has a DNW), and the url is an optional one which lets people link an off-site letter on google docs or dreamwidth.

Fandom allowing up to three fandoms means that people can do crossovers if they want (or tag a request something like 3rd life/hermitcraft), and if I wanted to say that people had to request 3 separate servers I would say "must be unique" but I'm okay if people sign up with three Dream SMP relationships in this idea hypothetical exchange, so I'm not selecting the unique button.

I'm ignoring the characters button cause that's extra complication, the only other thing I want to look at is the relationship button. A minimum of 1 ship per request (and there's a minimum of three requests), and let's say you can go up to 20, so people can request LOTS of different ships. I did select "must be unique" so someone can't sign up with the same ship three times. The "allow any" button is off, which means that I will have to select relationships that fit under the fandom that I selected one up, I can't request Shubble/Niki Nihachu (Origins), and put it with a fandom request for Hermitcraft. This has set it so that the absolutely minimum someone can sign up with is 3 relationships (3 requests * 1 relationship each), and the absolute maximum is 200 relationships (10 requests * 20 relationships each).

Requests will look much the same, except I am not putting down details/description or a URL, because I'm not letting people submit requests about what ship they "really" want to match on, they are going to be equally matchable to everyone they offered. Some exchanges will let you submit a requests DNW, but honestly that is so much extra work for the mods, I would not recommend it unless you think it's necessary to stop people from dropping their gifts later.

Okay, so now we take a brief digression into a tag set.

THE TAG SET

Okay so basically a tag set is an extra set of sliders that lets you fine-tune your exchange. If you do not use a tag set, when people sign up they will be able to use every canon tag on the archive, and only canon tags. Which is a LOT of tags, but when I ran an exchange without a tag set there were multiple times of hitting non-canon relationships or tags. But it's also a definite extra complication, tag sets are extra fiddly work and they are even less intituive. If you just want to go without a tag set, skip down to the matching segment. If you do want to avoid hitting people signing up with non-canon tags, keep reading.

I'm gonna say right off the bat that tag sets are the single most like "oh I am getting into the GUTS of the machine" part of running Ao3 exchanges, but if you can make them work they can super streamline both the sign-up (for your participants ) and the matching process (for you).

Oh boy, tag sets. Here we start getting into how exchanges start squeezing the interface to make it do what we want it to. I'm using a tag set, so first I clicked on the "tag set" url there and I made my tag set, and then I came back and selected its name from the drop-down menu on the collection. I leave all the tick boxes open, because selecting them will again restrict you to canon tags, and we specifically want to be open to noncanon tags both because of issues like "ijevin & tiny tim" not being a canon tag, and because the way MCYT tags are wrangled and made canon does not work for how the exchange machine reads information. We specifically want a collection of non-canon tags tuned for our needs. More on that later.

So, I started a new tag set, and I'm over there on that screen, looking at it. What does that screen look like?

Okay so, part of the appeal of a tag set is that your participants are able to specify the difference between "Rendog & InTheLittleWood" and "Rendog/InTheLittleWood". You don't have to worry about people getting undesired shipping, because people were specifying if they wanted shipping when they signed up. You can reduce a great deal of people getting matched badly by using relationship matching, because most of the time even if people want a Tommy-centric fic, there's a pretty big difference between people who want "Tommy & Technoblade" and "Tommy & Dream". By specifying who you want the gift to be about, you remove a big hurdle of matching right away. That's why most exchanges run on relationship matching.

However, if there are 37 people on a given server, that's something like 2,600 possible combinations of people if you include both romantic and platonic, and that's before you start getting into trios, and that's just way too many tags for the mods to enter manually. So what you do is run a nomination period, and for a week or two weeks you go to all your participants and you go "do you want to sign up for this exchange? Nominate the tags you want to use now! If it doesn't get nominated, it can't be used!" And then people head to the tag set to nominate.

So, on this page, you want "visible tag list" to be selected, because you want people to see what's already been nominated so they don't duplicate, and you want "currently taking nominations" to be selected because you will be taking those nominations instead of doing them all yourself.

So you have to set up limits on those nominations.

The point of taking nominations is to make matching easier, so people normally use the same fandom and relationship limits as they are going to use on the sign-up, to make sure there aren't dozens of tags in the tag set that nobody's using, just cluttering up the space. It also helps stop the issue where someone sees a tag in the tag set, goes "oh man I love that ship" and signs up, but its an extra tag that no one intended to offer, so they don't match to anyone. That's why sometimes people keep the amount of tags that can be nominated low, I've seen people limit this to 10 tags, or even 7, so that's up to you.

And you save, and now when you link your participants the tag set, they will have a "nominate" button.

They will hurry over to press that button, and then they will see a page that looks like this.

This is a thing where you absolutely want to give your participants detailed instructions, because what Ao3 will try to do is auto-fill people's nominations with canonical tags. WE DO NOT WANT CANONICAL TAGS. CANONICAL TAGS ARE THE ENEMY OF EXCHANGES. CANONICAL TAGS ARE THE ENEMY OF MCYT EXCHANGES IN PARTICULAR.

Remember back when we clicked the button that says tags have to be unique? The canonical tag for Philza & Technoblade doesn't have a server on it, and people might want to be requesting that relationship for SMPEarth, Dream SMP, Origins SMP, or arguably even QSMP. If you only have the canonical tag, people can only request a specific dynamic once, for one server. And that is a problem for every situation where people interacted on multiple servers, and with the network of overlaps that is Empires/SOS/3rd Life/Hermitcraft and DSMP/Origins/SMPEarth/QSMP, that's going to lead to unhappy participants. So you tell people to nominate the ship and also "disambiguate" it, and add the server in parentheses. And then all your participants will hit the button to submit, and you will go into the "review nominations" button, and you will let those tags into the tag set.

Now I just distributed the tag set to a couple friends, so let's look at what this looks like behind the scenes.

Brace yourself, it's gonna be wild, but I believe we can get through it.

Now here is a perfectly standard look at tag set nominations after a few people have gotten into the tag set. This is why they pay tag mods the big bucks.

As you can see, there are a few things to be gathered. The first things is a bunch of people used the canon tags (because that's what Ao3 tries to get them to do), someone else nominated an x-reader ship, we have one tag there twice (spelled differently), and the tags are Piped (they have both the person's tax name and the username). (You can let tags in that are Piped, but I find that it makes the tag set harder to read, and usually exchanges are character-focused unless you're writing video blogging rpf anyways, so I ask people to submit tags unpiped, using usernames.) And for the tags that were nominated in a way that I want (unpiped, and disambiguated so they're unique), Ao3 is trying to get me to use the canon tag. But I don't want the canon tag, I want a unique tag, with the server on it, with no pipes. So.

So were I moderating the tag set, after a few minutes it would look like this.

That's going through and disambiguating the tags (adding the server, which I could tell because of the fandom it was nominated under), removing the piping and using the usernames instead of tax names, and then re-ordering the names so they're alphabetical so people can find them on the list later, rejecting the x-reader tag, rejecting the duplicate and allowing the one that's spelled correctly through. Amazing. I have tags that I want to use (I did some other tags that were ready to go in other fandoms as well). I hit submit. Am I ready to go?

Not yet! First, associating tags. If you accepted the tags through the tag nomination process, you will have a button up there that says Review Associations.

If you click on this, on the back end, anything that you accepted under a previously accepted fandom will be helpfully paired up with this fandom, with Ao3 trying to say "ah, does it go here?"

You just go down the list, and if is trying to put it in the right fandom, then you click the box, and at the bottom of the page you press submit, and then there's your tags sorted out to your fandoms! Bingo! Are you done now?

No.

Because tag sets are the most complicated part of exchanges.

So. if you open up your tag set, and you scroll down to "Unassociated characters and relationships" there are a bunch of tags that are are lost, Ao3 doesn't know where to put them. This happens when a) you accepted a tag that was associated with a fandom that hadn't been accepted yet, b) it was trying to associate it with a basket fandom that you don't want to associate it with so you couldn't accept the suggested associations (for example: Philza hardcore tags will show up in Dream SMP but you don't want to associate them there), c) sometimes Ao3 just breaks, spaghetti code d), you had manually added these tags on the Edit page— more on that later. So all of these tags you have to manually associate.

You hit the Edit button on the tag set, and scroll down to the bottom, to "tag associations", and start selecting where tags go.

Honestly this is a great time to be listening to a stream or a podcast or something, and then you have the tag set open in another tab so you know what all the unassociated tags are, and you just go down the list like a databasing machine. It is not hard, cause you disambiguated each tag with its own server, it's just time consuming. Note. This is why people go in and accept tags regularly during the nomination period, because if you do this all at the end you've got a BIG job ahead of you.

So, you turned on your VOD playlist and you associated all your tags, and all the tags are where they are supposed to go. You have a beautiful tag set.

But wait, you say, looking at this beautiful tag set. Some of those tags look at little different. What is the "Dream smp and only dream smp" that a couple of them have?

Well.

You see.

Ao3 designed tag sets to work a certain way, and nobody uses them that way. It turns out that "Quackity/Wilbur Soot (Dream SMP)" is a wrangled canon tag, and the system goes "ah, I know where this goes, this is a sub-tag of the major tag, and the top-level tag is Video Blogging RPF, so it goes under Video Blogging RPF, as all MCYT tags do. I am very smart. I have stuck this Dream SMP tag under Video Blogging RPF. I am a good machine". And then you go AUUUUUUUUGH, and then you turn up the podcast a little louder, and then you sit down and you delete the old tag and you write out a new tag that the system doesn't know what to do with, and it goes uhhhhhhh and sticks it in "unassociated tags" and then you go in again and you manually associate it into the right server.

Edit in 2024: I use (DFE) at the end of the tag now, because it's shorter.

It's not hard, it's just time consuming. Shouting at the tag set like STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO as it helpfully tries to stick dsmp tags in SMPearth and you wrestle it out of SMPEarth and into the right fandom bucket.

Deep breath moment. Honestly that's the most fiddly part of a fiddly process, so if you can get through this you're absolutely golden.

Anyways. You got clean disambiguated unique tags, and then you associated them in the right spot, and then you found the ones that got sorted to the wrong spot and you associated them yourself, and now you have a beautiful tag set ready to go. It's a thing of beauty. Shed a tear. Your participants can select from anything in this tag set, and you know they want to use these specific relationships, because they submitted them to you. What next?

THE MATCHING

Okay. You have your tag set set up and it's accepting nominations. Your participants are filling it out right now. You go back to your collection. it's time to tell it how to match.

This is the "minimum number to match" pane, and this is the minimum numbers to make a successful match. You want 1 for Fandom, and 1 for Relationship, and that's it. People will show up to the machine as a viable match as long as they have submitted a fandom and relationship that matches someone else's offered fandom and relationship.

This is a minimum viable exchange. You're ready to go. As soon as your tag set is done (or immediately if you're not using a tag set), you're ready to go back and open your exchange to sign-ups.

Congratulations!

FURTHER TWEAKING

HOWEVER. There is more that you can do. For example, do you want to allow people to request or opt into NSFW? There's an easy way to do that! First thing is you go back to your tag set, and you scroll down to the "ratings" section that you've been ignoring.

You select G and E, and that way, if people are opting into explicit that means they're okay with NSFW, and if they only select G, that means they only want a non-explicit piece.

Then on the collection you switch the requests and offers sections to include a place to specify a rating.

You want them to definitely specify at least one, and if you maximum allowed is 2, people can opt into both and say "i'm good with whatever"!

Then you scroll down to the matching section, and you tweak that to make sure that people will match on Fandom, Relationship, and at least one Rating.

Bingo. You now have a toggle to turn NSFW on and off.

But a lot of people like to match by TYPE of gift too, specifying if they want art or fic or playlist or web weave etc. How do you do that? Ah, at this point you are master of all you survey, and you can make tag sets do absolutely anything you want. You go back to the tag set and you scroll down to "characters".

Now we were matching on relationships, so the character box is unused. And it lets you put in your own tags. So what you do is you start to add in custom tags.

And then you go back to the Collection settings, and on the requests and the offers you go in to the "characters" section and you say "must select at least one, can select up to six".

And then, you guessed it— you go back to "minimum number to match" and you set that "characters" tab to 1 minimum, 6 maximum. Now people who specified that they wanted Art can be matchable to artists who Offered Art. You have unlimited power, the world is at your fingertips.

There's even more customization that you can do, too! There's "additional tags", which is entirely custom tags you add yourself, that can be anything from specifying if people want fluff or horror or hurt/comfort etc— with the recursive exchange we used it to specify the works people were recursing— I'm considering using it for holidays with the holiday exchange. You can let people opt in or out of major archive warnings by selecting "archive warnings" as a thing that's in the tag set and that you're matching for. Once you understand how the underpinnings of how the machine works, you can wrestle it into almost any shape you want.

So. Whew. That's how exchanges work, under the hood. When I say that this is significantly easier than hand matching the holiday exchange, I ask you to picture just how complicated hand matching gets. Go forth! Thrive! Set up exchanges if you want! The world is your oyster!

Feel free to message me if you have further questions.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman is determined to make things right with Iris.

Chapter: 4/6

Word Count: 1211

Warnings: Praise, very mild arguing, mention of previous divorce.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Iris walked into the meeting room, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Setting in the room with some the icons of her childhood such as The Rock, Triple H and Shawn Michaels with them all depending on her to secure the best deal possible for the company.

As she took her seat, she saw Roman sitting across from her. He gave her a small nod, but Iris quickly looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of 'acknowledging' him because well, fuck that.

The meeting began, and They started discussing the details of what WWE would want out of the deal. Iris listened intently, taking notes and asking questions when necessary.

Iris was impressed by the ambition and determination of the WWE executives and top stars. They wanted to expand their reach and increase their revenue, and they were willing to go all out to make it happen.

As the meeting progressed, Iris noticed that Roman was paying close attention to her. He would glance at her every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to everything that was being discussed.

"I understand your concerns, but I think we can work out a deal that benefits both parties," Iris said, her voice calm and professional. "We can negotiate terms that ensure that the deal is mutually beneficial and that the rights of both parties are protected so that we get everything WWE requires of the deal, I don't see Netflix or their Attorneys giving us very much push back on any of this."

The WWE executives nodded, impressed by her knowledge and confidence.

"We appreciate your input, Ms. Taylor." Triple H said. "We were looking for a lawyer who can handle the details and help us navigate the legal landscape of the deal in a timely manner so we can get the ball rolling on getting the product out to our fans as soon as possible."

"We knew you were the right choice when Roman recommended you" The Rock spoke up.

Iris could barely hide her surprise at The Rock's words. She hadn't expected Roman to recommend her to the WWE, especially after the way things had ended between them.

"Roman recommended me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

The Rock nodded. "Yeah, he said you were a lawyer and that he trusted you to do a good job."

Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not expecting his cousin to bring him up.

Iris glanced at Roman, trying to read his expression. Focusing back in on the task at hand, the meeting continued, with the WWE executives discussing the logistics of the deal. Iris tried to focus on the conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to Roman. It was driving her crazy being this distracted when she's used to being laser focused when talking to a client.

After another hour or so of discussion, the meeting finally came to an end. The WWE executives thanked Iris for her input and left the room, leaving her alone with Roman, and Paul who left when Roman shot him a look requesting privacy.

Iris gathered her notes and papers, shoving them into her briefcase. She was about to leave when she heard Roman's voice.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Iris hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to talk to him. But something in his voice made her stop.

"Fine," she said, turning to face him. "What do you want to talk about?"

Roman took a step closer to her, his expression serious.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said. "For what happened at Smackdown. I was an ass, and I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Iris raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"You're apologizing now, after?" she asked. "Why? because I'm representing the company you work for in negotiations?"

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it's not just because of that," he said. "I've been thinking about what happened, and I realized that I was wrong. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry for that."

Iris studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity.

"You know, you could have just said that instead of making things worse at Smackdown," she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

Roman nodded, looking down at the floor.

"I know, I know," he said. "I was stupid. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process. I'm not used to being... vulnerable. I'm sorry for that, too."

Roman looked up at Iris, his expression soft.

"I just got divorced," he said quietly. "It was a messy, painful process. We have five kids together... And I don't know if I'm ready to feel again. I don't know if I'm ready to open myself up to someone new."

Iris softened a bit at his words. She could see the pain in his eyes, and she understood what he was going through.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, her voice gentle. "Divorce is never easy, especially when it's messy and there are kids involved."

Roman took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I know you have no reason to say yes," he said. "But I was wondering if you would let me take you to dinner. As an apology for everything that happened between us."

Iris hesitated, torn between her anger and her curiosity. She didn't want to give in to Roman's request, but there was a part of her that was tempted.

"Why should I?" she asked, her voice guarded. "You've already apologized. What more do you want from me?"

Roman looked at her, his eyes pleading.

"I want a chance to make things right," he said. "I want to show you that I'm sorry"

Iris was silent for a moment, considering his words. She knew that she shouldn't give in to his request, but there was something about his sincerity that made her reconsider.

"Fine," she said finally. "One dinner. But don't think that this means anything."

As Iris agreed to have dinner with Roman, he smiled at her, relieved that she had accepted his invitation. But then, as he was about to thank her, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Good girl," he said, his voice soft and low.

Iris's eyes widened in surprise at Roman's words. She hadn't expected him to say that, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Roman realized what he had said and quickly tried to cover it up.

"I mean, thank you," he said hastily. "Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me."

Iris tried to push down the arousal that she felt at Roman's praise, but it was too late. She could feel her body responding to his words.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman could sense the change in her demeanor, and he couldn't help but notice the way she'd been flustered and it sent a thrill through him.

"I'll pick you up at 7," he said, "Wear something nice."

"Yes, My tribal chief." She said sarcastically

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter

[afyrian]

HII CONGRATS IM A NEW FOLLOWER!!

can I request 🌾☁️ for Shoyo? (Make sure you take care of yourself or I’ll find you 🫶🏾)

a (crush)ed drink shoyo hinata x fem!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 656 | prompt: timeskip + 'mmh so the weather's nice'

    biting your nail, you stand by the front door, staring at your phone. the little bicycle's icon moving throughout the app, getting closer and closer to your apartment building. going to a restaurant and ordering with what poor portuguese that you have sends your blood pressure soaring. so you've found yourself ordering more food than necessary, just to avoid those moments.

  pacing quietly, you reload the page, practicing your basic portuguese vocabulary. muito obrigada echoes through your head, little whispers coming from your lips as you practice the pronunciation. "uh- cheiro está deliciosa.." it doesn't sound quite right as it leaves your mouth, sounding better in your head.

  looking back at your phone, you notice that the bike icon has arrived at your building. a little sentence at the bottom stating that he's in the building and delivering it. shaking your hands, you let out a sigh, closing your eyes and letting the cool air of your apartment relax you. 

  your heartbeat slows until you hear someone out in the hallway, apologizing in broken portuguese. realizing it's likely your delivery man, you shove your phone into your pocket, awaiting the knock on the door. one second.. two seconds.. time slows as a rhythmic knock resonates in the room. putting on a brave face, you unlock the door and twist the handle until it's open.

  there stands an orange-haired man holding a bag of food in one hand and a crushed cup in the other, "i'm- uh disculpe. you're bebida... esmagado."

  between the broken portuguese, you can hear what you believe to be eastern japanese. a sort of country twang in his voice. a sense of peace washes over you, "wait, i'm sorry, do you know japanese?"

  immediately it's like a light bulb has gone off, an epiphany resting between his ears. his eyes light up like you’ve never seen in a person before, a large sigh leaving his shorter stature. “yeah! i am! oh wow, i can explain this better then! it’s really sunny right now and i had my sunglasses off for a second.. just a second. and it got right into my eyes where i then fell over,” your delivery driver purses his lips, holding out the bag of food that is still intact.

  “mmh so the weather’s nice then? okay, it’s okay! really, i was just practicing ‘muito obrigada’ over and over, so the good and bad surprises equal out,” your free hand grabs the bag from his, your other hand preoccupied with playing with the hems of your shorts. 

  he gives you a warm smile as you take it, your hands briefly grazing each other, “i actually took this job in hopes of learning more portuguese! it is definitely helping, when the order delivering is easy..”

  “actually!” your delivery driver pulls out his phone, ignoring the slight amount of awkward tension in the air, “i can give you my number and we can learn together!”

  maybe he’s more used to the extroverted attitude of the people who surround him, but you immediately notice your palms sweating. the thought of getting to know someone new in a country that you’re still uncertain in makes you feel nervous. however, you can’t help but feel the energy he exudes, the warmth that radiates from him.

  “well shouldn’t i know your name first? you do know mine, from the app,” you bite your lip, holding back the playful smile that wants to appear.

  something about him sends a spark within you, heat traveling throughout your body. you don’t know what to call it, a crush? an infatuation with a man who has the attitude for the ages. “it’s hinata, hinata shoyo! it’s a pleasure to formally meet you!” he holds out his phone, number written across the screen.

  you smile genuinely this time, unable to hold it back any longer, “well, nice to formally meet you hinata, i’d love to learn portuguese with you!”

a/n: thank you for requesting anon!! i loved doing this <33 i did end up taking a very short break but it was great, also if the portuguese sucks i’m so sorry

[steveyockey]

While some of both Davis and Crawford’s work could arguably be described as camp (for the former, King Vidor’s Beyond the Forest; for the latter, later-era films such as Strait-Jacket and aspects of the wondrous Nicholas Ray film Johnny Guitar), that their entire careers and places within film history are defined as such does a disservice to their artistry. But they aren’t alone in representing what has become a troubling trend when it comes to women’s work. As camp entered the mainstream lexicon, especially after Susan Sontag’s landmark 1964 essay, “Notes on ‘Camp,’” the term has been increasingly tied to work featuring women who disregard societal norms. Camp is often improperly and broadly applied to pop culture that features highly emotional, bold, complex, cold, and so-called “unlikable” female characters. I’ve seen films and TV shows such as the witty masterwork All About Eve; the beguiling Mulholland Drive; the stylized yet heartwarming Jane the Virgin; Todd Haynes’s Patricia Highsmith adaptation Carol; the blistering biopic Jackie; the deliciously malevolent horror film Black Swan; Joss Whedon’s exploration of girlhood and horror, Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the landmark documentary Grey Gardens (which inspired the 2009 HBO film starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore); and even icons such as Beyoncé and Rihanna be described as camp. Look at any list of the best camp films and you’ll see an overwhelming number of works that feature women and don’t actually fit the label. Usually, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, the film whose behind-the-scenes story provides Murphy’s launching pad for Feud, will be at the top of the list.

While camp need not be a pejorative, that hasn’t stopped it from being widely used as such. In effect, being labeled as camp can turn the boldest works about the interior lives of complex women into a curiosity, a joke, a punch line. The ease with which camp is applied to female-led films and shows of this ilk demonstrates that for all the (still-paltry) gains Hollywood has made for women in the decades since Davis and Crawford worked, our culture is still uncomfortable respecting women’s stories.

That major Hollywood icons such as Marlene Dietrich, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford (and, more recently, Natalie Portman, thanks to Jackie) have been roped into this lineage isn’t surprising. Society doesn’t know what to do with women of this ilk without discrediting their very womanhood. Take artist and filmmaker Bruce LaBruce’s offensive description of Mae West in an essay on camp: “[She] played with androgyny to the degree that her final performance — her autopsy — was necessary to prove her biological femaleness.” In his 2013 essay “Why Is Camp So Obsessed with Women?”, J. Bryan Lowder expands on Sontag’s most well-known line: “It’s not a lamp, but a ‘lamp’; not a woman, but a ‘woman.’ To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role.” Lowder writes, “‘Woman,’ the concept within the quotation marks, is not the same thing, at all, as a real woman; the former is a mythology, a style, a set of conventions, taboos, and references, while the latter is a shifting, changeable, and ultimately indefinable living being. Of course, there may be some overlap.” But if all gender is a performance, where does the “real” woman begin? And why does the presence of camp hold more importance than the actual work and voices of actresses such as Crawford, who have come to be defined by it?

At times, camp can feel like a suffocating label. Its proponents often misconstrue the fact that recreating oneself as a character is not merely an aesthetic for women, but rather, for many, a matter of survival. Living in a culture that profoundly scorns ambition, autonomy, and independence in women, girls learn quickly the narrow parameters of femininity available to them. When they transcend these parameters, life can get even more difficult. Women often pick up and drop various forms of presentation in order to move through the world more easily. Performance as a woman — in terms of how one speaks, walks, talks, acts — can be a means of controlling one’s own narrative. Camp often limits this part of the discussion, focusing instead on the sheer thrill of watching larger-than-life female characters cut and snark their way across the screen. How these works speak to women, past and present, becomes a tertiary concern at best, and the work loses a bit of its importance in the process; it either comes to be regarded as niche or, if it still has mainstream prominence, as abject spectacle. In turn, the conversations around these works become less about the women at their centers and more about how those women are presented.

Much of Baby Jane’s camp legacy comes down to how more recent audiences have interpreted Davis’s performance. She’s ferocious, frightening, and grotesque. But framing Davis’s performance as camp, as Murphy does, doesn’t take into account how dramatically acting has shifted over the course of film history. In some ways, camp has become a label used when modern audiences don’t quite understand older styles of acting. Modern actors privilege the remote, the cold, the detached. The more scenery-chewing performances that make the labor of acting visible — such as the transformative work that Jake Gyllenhaal did in Nightcrawler, or most of Christian Bale’s career — is typically the domain of men. (Or, at least, it’s only men who can get away with it without being called campy.) As Shonni Enelow writes in a marvelous piece for Film Comment, “[Jennifer] Lawrence’s characters in Winter’s Bone and The Hunger Games don’t arrive at emotional release or revelation; rather than fight to express themselves, her characters fight not to. We can see the same kind of emotional retrenchment and wariness in a number of performances by the most popular young actors of the last several years.” Davis’s work as an actor was the antithesis of that; she painted in bold colors. Even her quietest moments brim with an intensity that cannot be denied.

[yukipri]

So, I binged The Acolyte last night.

I had a mental block and couldn't get myself to start while it was coming out, and I also haven't touched any High Republic era media before which made me hesitant. But the spoilers/gifs/fanart etc I saw convinced me I should give it a try.

I'm not a huge fan of binging, I like sitting and thinking with each episode, so I expected to just watch an episode or two, give it a day or so, then continue if I liked it.

But, to my great surprise, once I started, I couldn't really stop (aaand stayed up till 7 AM, oops).

I think it had several things going for it:

-The acting was genuinely phenomenal. I feel like I would have felt completely differently about the show if different actors had been involved, and i mean that more strongly than I usually do. Their delivery in certain moments really sold me.

-It's not your usual Star Wars genre. I'd consider it mystery/suspense with a touch of horror, and it really does come together. Some of the characters are experience a more stereotypical Star Wars action/adventure story, but are jerked out of their genre at certain moments. It's pretty neat, and makes the twists fun and interesting (even if you were completely spoiled beforehand, like me lol)

-The costumes were gorgeous and unique.

-Some truly gorgeous cinematography, shots that have beautiful composition and lighting.

-It was rich in lore and references, some from Legends that I caught, many from the High Republic that I didn't catch but appreciated nonetheless. It felt deeply connected to the SW Universe.

-While cynical, the writing says things that I've thought about but never really thought Star Wars would have the guts to say. The writing is also Tight, meaning that little moments of character interactions bring up things that will be necessary/helpful to the plot later, and I appreciated that. There felt like very little waste.

-There are genuinely no "good" or "bad" guys. Every character makes mistakes or has horrible qualities, yet also positive ones. We see and understand motives, even if we don't agree with them, and see the fallout of those actions. This made almost everyone compelling. The narrative and writing gives the audience space to think.

Things that I wasn't as much a fan of:

-I felt like most of the sets felt kind of generic and Earth-like, especially in comparison to the rich costumes and alien characters.

-There are some fantastic fight scenes and emotional scenes, where the acting and cinematography was fantastic, but I wish the music had been a bit more memorable. I can't really recall any of it, and I feel like there were scenes that could have been truly iconic had the music resounded more with me.

Now, some more specific thoughts, SPOILERS below:

On Sol:

Sol is a character who, I believe in most cases, I would have absolutely despised. But holy shit, Lee Jung-jae. I am not exaggerating when I say that his performance is perhaps one of the best, if not THE best performances I've ever seen in live action Star Wars. He played this character so tenderly, so genuinely.

Despite being misguided, having made terrible decisions, and making mistakes that even he acknowledges, Sol himself always truly thought he was doing what was right, and loved Osha with his whole being even at the end, and it Shows. The way he looks at Osha was so sincere.

This is why I can't get myself to hate Sol as a character. It makes me feel so conflicted, like how can a guy with so much love and genuine desire to help and do good go so wrong? And that, I think, is one of the major points of the show, and Lee Jung-jae absolutely sells it. What a phenomenal actor. You could genuinely watch this show for him alone.

On Osha/Mae:

When the first info/promos for Acolyte came out and Amandla Stenberg was announced as the main character, I admit I was a bit confused. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I thought she couldn't act, but it's just that her face is so kind. She looks so warm (and gosh, she's so beautiful), but it made me go hmm, she looks like a Good Guy Protag, a Hero, so I was a bit confused as to how she was going to lead "the Acolyte," which from the title, I assumed she'd be Dark Side. Even with the early promo scenes of Mae fighting Indara, I wasn't really sold on her being "Dark."

And it turns out, that was exactly the point of the casting.

Amandla was perfect, and was brilliant at portraying two characters who not only have different and distinct personalities, but also both shift and change throughout the show. Mae never came off as "Dark" to me, because she isn't. Osha's not necessarily Light OR Dark, but she's independent. They are balanced, yet cycling, reminiscent of that little palm-to-palm circling ritual that the girls do. Amandla's portrayal of them was poetry, and made me so very invested in them.

I think if there's one thing I really wish the show had included more of, it's both Osha and Mae's pasts between their tragic separation and their reunion in the present. What was Osha's Padawan-ship actually like? I feel like the exact reason for the timing of her leaving the Order was ambiguous, and I wanted to know more. And was Mae with "the Master" the entire time?

I truly wish Osha could have heard the full story from Sol, because of his many crimes, ironically, killing her mother really was a genuine accident. There are things I wish he could have apologized to her for, or that she could have understood about him, such as how that night at the coven was largely driven by how Sol felt connected to her. This is one part where, while I get how the writers went this way, I do wish I could have felt more closure to their relationship.

I found it so tragic that Qimir erased Mae's memories and they had to be separated so soon after finally understanding each other. I really hope that if there's a season 2, they can be reunited.

On Qimir:

Preface by saying I was spoiled regarding his identity long before I started, by all those thirsty posts/tweets. And man, I GET IT.

But thirst magnet aside, I found him a genuinely fascinating character. For one thing, he's kind of an ironic character to *be* a Darksider. He seems so chill and laid-back, is honorable (or at least keeps his word), and despite his words about using emotions to harness energy, we don't really see him passionately mad/anything really. In contrast, the Jedi we see around him are furious, scared, sad. It's interesting that he almost seems more calm, but not necessarily because he's trying: he just doesn't care.

Manny Jacinto's portrayal of the character made him so damn Likable. Which, is pretty hard to reconcile with the fact that I genuinely liked Jecki and Yord, but a lot of his lines make me just go, y'know he's got a point. Like the whole, "She was a child," "You brought her here." Like yeah. Honestly, fair. His little quips, the delivery, the I'm-just-a-chill-dude attitude, actually keeps his word, and on the flip side, undeniable ruthless skill and viciousness that took down a whole team of Jedi single-handedly. It's a very BRRRRRR combo.

In general, I don't really get too attached to "Dark Side" characters, and don't really have a favorite Sith. Or at least, I didn't, but I think Qimir (or whatever his actually name is) might claim that spot now. Truly peak character, I truly hope we get to see more with him.

And this is kind of an aside, but can I just say, it felt unreal to have entire fight sequences focussing on just two Asian actors, with the other protagonist we see a black girl, for huge chunks of the show? No white people except comparatively brief side characters? In a Star Wars show?!?? All of them unique and well fleshed out and phenomenally written and acted?? None of it felt like "forced diversity," it's all so natural, that when I step back and thought about it in these terms it just...again, feels unreal. I'm so grateful for these characters, and hope we get more like them.

On Jecki and Yord:

Honestly given what I saw about Yord before hand, I was expecting him to be far more annoying than he was. Sure, he was a little stiff, but he felt like a young Jedi Knight who was trying to prove himself and do his best, and I think he very clearly did care for Osha.

Jecki, gosh I loved her. She felt very similar to Ahsoka, if a bit more by the book. She was very wise for her youth. I loved the budding friendship between her and Osha, how they helped each other and weren't jealous.

The thing about both of these characters, which I think the writers did so well, is that they felt like protagonists. In another story, they would have been the main characters, the heroes. Both of them were so young, so early in their training/careers. They could have become Obi-Wans, Ahsokas. Jecki especially was bursting with so much potential.

But alas, this was not that story. It makes it that much shocking when their lives are cut so abruptly short. We were given time to get to know these characters, to care for them, and then without much fanfare, boom. Gone.

On one hand, I sorta Hate That. On the other, I deeply respect the writers for going there, because I think it did have an Impact on the story and show.

On the Witches/Mother Aniseya:

Admittedly I was a little ehhhhh on some of the world-building regarding the witches, just the use of the words "witch" and "coven" and some of the chanting with gasping cackling women etc felt a bit caricature. I do get that they wanted us to have a vibe for this group and to get one with limited screentime, and sometimes stereotypes are the way to do that. I didn't love it, but also didn't mind it too much.

I actually really loved Mother Aniseya. For one thing, the actress is Gorgeous, her costume stunning, and she really sold the whole otherworldly ethereal immortal goddess vibe well, in a way that still felt Star Wars. For the other, I liked how she was the soft, empathetic one, it kinda contrasted with expectation of her position.

I also loved Mother Koril, and how again, she was designed as a character foil to Mother Aniseya. I love how we didn't see too much of them, but could still see that they were partners who loved and respected each other (I hesitate to say "wives," because I feel like their society may not exactly have the same concept of marriage, but partners was undeniable). I think it was a neat Oh moment when they stated that Mother Koril is the one who carried the twins. Love them.

I know I'll have more thoughts, but yeah, to sum it up, I enjoyed Acolyte a ton more than I thought i would, and am so glad I gave it a chance.

Other things:

-Mentioned earlier that I love "little moments of character interactions bring up things that will be necessary/helpful to the plot later." Some actual examples of this: When we see Sol noticing Osha's tattoo and Osha saying he must hate it, which in the moment, shows the kind of guardian-student relationship they have, and how little seems to have changed for them in the time they've been a part. Later, it's shown to clearly identify Osha after Mae steals her clothes. Another is the rolly polly moth things, which at first seem just like a way to show This Forest Dangerous, but then are a plot point to temporarily escape from Qimir, and later on, to show Vernestra's connection to the Force (and also her light whip). Stuff like that, I really like.

-I so appreciated Qimir's Cortosis helmet. For one thing, it's neat that it's not just cool-looking or a disguise, but actually is Force-blocking. I think an official SW account factoid said that this is also how beskar works, though beskar is stronger. The two effects this has: when the user is wearing it, they're forced to confront what's inside of them. The other, is that it hides the wearer's identity from Force users who would otherwise recognize them. The latter is my personal headcanon for beskar helmets, so it's very gratifying to see it in canon! The former has some interesting implications for Force-users who wear beskar.

-The cynical view of the Jedi Order as an Institution, and all the politics, corruption, and obscuring of dirt that that entails. Admittedly this may be because of my own increasingly cynical perspective on the Order, but it felt honest and I agreed with most of it. The fact that individuals are trying their best to do "good" does not negate the fact that they are pretty much acting as Space Cops. This line by Senator Rayencourt felt especially raw:

"I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to claim the uncontrollable. [] Your emotions."

Framed as a religion having unchecked power—that feels uncomfortably realistic! And also zeroing in on how for all their power, the Jedi are still people, and just as fallible (and therefore, must necessarily be held just as accountable).

Also:

I can see how this portrayal of the Jedi may make some folks uncomfortable, especially if you love the Jedi, but I long hold that the Jedi as an organization are deeply flawed. It's part of why I personally like the "fall of the Republic" era; both the Galactic Republic and Jedi Order have deep, fatal flaws, and this is an era where that all comes to a head—one where they must fall, or fix themselves.

So in conclusion, my favorite parts: the characters, and the moral grayness of almost everyone. Many stories may claim there's no good/evil dichotomy, but few ever truly show it, but this one did.

I'm not sure yet if I want to "fandom" over this or if I'm pretty satisfied with having just watched it, but it was definitely worth the watch and I'm glad I gave it a try!

~~

~~

I also kept a lil document of live reaction notes as I was watching, which I'll copy below:

Episode 1

UEDA?? The planet is just, UEDA?? A pretty common Japanese surname?? That's like. Naming a planet Johnson or somethin...

Loving the costumes 'n set

Oh wait I recognize this scene, it's the one they played as a preview at the AMC Star Wars marathon

Idk how to feel about the Space Generic T-Shirt

Ooh Neimoidians (thank you for no horrendously exaggerated Evil Japanese Accent TM), and interesting Jedi ship shape

Oh interesting interesting they intentionally paralleling TPM eh

Hrmn not a positive first impression of Master Vernestra, her lines are so mechanical

Very cool pilot chair droids and tentacle alien

Osha says practice vehicle safety and wear seatbelts and protect your head!

Oh Osha has Trauma I see. Girl ain't getting good sleep

Oh wow Sol Loves Osha, oh no is this going to lead to Padawan Jealousy Trauma between Osha and Jecki. How much are we heavily paralleling TPM here

Kill the dream eh?

Episode 2

Oh there are multiple Jedi temples, that's nice

Jedi Temple using same security system as Jabba is...uh

Mae tips, good for her

Master Torbin just sittin' there, lookin like some random youtuber. why tabi socks

Man I dig Mae's patchwork cloak with massive princess hood.

It's pronounced KAI-meer??? My Chinese ass thought it was Chee-mir

Barash Vow

Ohhh so Mae doesn't know that Qimir...? (was spoiled)

Episode 3

ooh i like the fairy clione things

Ohhh village all women??

Mother Aniseya is stunning

Oh she and Koril blatantly lesbian, fantastic

Oh gosh the Jedi are NOT looking good here. They don't have the right to train children?? WTF

You must let the children take the test?? And if they pass the Jedi will take them away??? That does NOT sound very consensual!!

Oh gosh, selling "you are special" to a child, after separating her from her community...

Really feel like "how does taking a child away affect their community" should be factored into jedi stuff

Mae that is...sudden and violent wtf

Kinda not trusting Sol here

Episode 4

Wow Kelnacca looks...mentally stable

Ohhh Qimir's ship? Looks suspiciously Kylo Ren-ish

Qimir really suspicious eh

Oh wow not using the Force or anything, just using a sniffy guy

They're really doing a Fellowship of the Ring walk huh

Look I absolutely adore Mae's long gorgeous cloak but that is going to drag half the forest floor with her

Not liking those tree bulbs. looks spider eggy

Osha don't Touch the Thing, that's such a Pippin move

oh no, not spider eggs...rolly polly moth vampire thing

Really enjoying Osha and Jecki's friendship, I'm so glad it's not former Padawan jealousy

Oh, Mae, oh no....knowing spoilers...oh...

The red lightsaber igniting next to Osha's head...dang what fantastic composition

The lil hand twitch and head snap. I Get It.

I remember when "Darth Teeth" was trending

And wow that's a Cliffhanger

Episode 5

Oh no Osha knocked out that doesn't bode well

How many against one is that damn

The double spear through then hidden head lop...wow

holy shit booma-saber

Oooooh the cut treeeeees damn

all that death before even the opening title

Honestly GO JECKI, that's very impressive, her win against Mae AND double saber against Darth Teeth, Anakin level spinning and drama

Holy shit Jecki's death was brutal...

She was a child - You brought her here - FAIR

Why risk discovery - I did wear a mask LMAO

Damn did he just casually break Mae's leg

I don't make the rules - the Jedi do

The Jedi say I can't exist...wow

Holy shit Yord's death

Damn full on brawl

I've accepted my darkness, what have you done with yours

Damn really yeeted Qimir from the fight by sticking a light on his back

Pip tho ;_; killin droids feels like killin pets...

They've turned you against me - really Anakin quotin

Wow Sol, not even going to see Jecki????

And wtf how can Sol not tell that Mae's switched them??? Has fandom been grossly misunderstanding how the Jedi use the Force....how the fuck can any Jedi tell apart any clones eh...

While not exactly subtle, I appreciate how lil details in character interactions have had pay offs. Like the tree bugs and Osha's tattoo being a way to identify her

Episode 6

He really just makin a hot pot

his lair kinda looks like sequels Luke's island

Not sure how I feel about the elephant rock bird things

Honestly glad we get to see Sol upset and affected by everyone's deaths. Might explain part of why he can't tell apart the twins?

Oh he's really wearing hakama hakama

Wow Qimir really just getting in buck naked eh. Is this the scene that Manny froze his balls off for

His line about it being fine in a fight but vengeance a few hours later

Oh he brought a change of clothes

Damn the Jedi are taught "it fades"???

Aww Osha, u aren't tempted by the soup??

Oh wow we revisiting bodies, that feels...u usual for SW. Oh there's a Kel Dor... (why are there no flies buzzing yet. or are there no flies yet)

Mae wakes up so peacefully compared to Osha

Oooh sensory deprivation mask, all dark, nothing but breathing, evocative of Darth Vader even if breathing is not similar

Episode 7

Vergence....iiiiinteresting

Sol, stalking lil kids is creepy af

Oh my god you're just gonna break in???

See - You cannot deny the Jedi have a right to test potential Padawans - Why the fuck not???? You don't have the right to stalk, spy on, break into random people's homes, and talk directly to their children without permission from guardians??

Guh Sol....

Interrogation after isolation from guardians....

Oh, the Jedi Council is right for once??

Do not alter this little girl's destiny because you have formed an emotional attachment to her

Gosh I thought Indara was the most innocent in this buuuuut

Episode 8

I'm surprised they never added Darth Teeth's mask to the front credits

"See you in hell" Oh I know Han mentioned Hell like once but I thought they were avoiding mentioning it in newer media

Holy shit Rayencourt: I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to claim the uncontrollable. - Kinda uncomfortably real!!

-We don't control the Force - no, your emotions - OOF

I didn't realize till this ep how the cool Brendok eclipse got that line, it's the comet ring. super neat

oof Mae climbing out of the scene of Trauma...

Oh that is some Wu Xia shit

"I will destroy you if i must" really??

Nice dagger saber

Okay Sol that is Cool

oh gosh, the plot-relevant inversion of clothes resulting in it reflecting how they swapped light/dark is SO cool

very yin yang fighting

Damn it keeps coming down to the unarmed opponent thing

Damn, Mae going the justice route

Damn, just Damn

Gosh the thing about Sol is that he is SO well acted, so sincere in his love and devotion, it's hard to hate him

I'm glad the helmets block the Force identity like that tho, fits headcanon

Glad Basil continues to shine

Oh no. Vernestra...I thought you were doing the right thing revealing the truth, but instead you're continuing the cycle of covering up crimes

Oh...use Mae to find Vernestra's former Padawan...that's a cycle alright

And ends with Yoda okay

[loafgeto]

BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK? I MISS YOU

geto suguru x fem!reader

synopsis: suguru is away on a business trip and dearly misses you, his wife, back at home. so, you give him a little surprise over the phone.

contents: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, no curses au, explicit language, NSFW, phone sex, teasing, use of toys (real life dildo), dirty talk, masturbation, squirting, pet names, not proofread !!

word count: 1.7k

notes: i know there’s a lot of fics based off of agora hills, but i just couldn’t get this idea out of my head when listening to that one verse </3

suguru sighs, leaning to the side of his head against his fingertips so he could gently massage into the skin. he was exhausted and experiencing fatigue daily ever since arriving in this city. and most importantly, he misses you so much. suguru was unexpectedly assigned to an urgent business trip overseas and flew out the next day. he had to leave for two weeks and he honestly didn’t understand why the trip had a duration of that long, but he needed to deal with it.

it was common for suguru to be away for several days, but this was the first time he was away for two weeks. he was on the seventh day, so he had a week left before going back home but to him, it felt like he’s been away for much, much longer. he misses you dearly— your touch, your smell, your voice, your face. gosh, suguru couldn’t wait to feel his hands against your delicate body and kiss your soft lips. he was already becoming hard from imagining the way you’d press your body against his and he’d take you right there like the perfect wife you are.

suguru reaches for his phone, reading the time and sighing again. it’s currently the morning for him and he was across the world from you, so your time was a day ahead of him and it’d be night time for you. because of the time difference and the amount of work he needed to complete, he was barely able to call you back or reply to your messages. you know he’s occupied, so you’re never too upset at him not responding, despite him regarding feeling bad.

he wants to call you, but he assumes you have already fallen asleep. suguru had about two hours left before his next meeting, so if you were still awake… maybe he’d be able to spend some time with you. he anticipated on pressing the call button, becoming concerned that he’ll wake you up if you are asleep. but suguru figures he gives it a try.

just as suguru was about to press the call button, the picture of your face pops up on his phone, indicating you are calling him. suguru’s heart leaps forward, a smile forming on his lips as he immediately swipes to answer. “baby, hello?!” suguru greets with excitement.

“baby,” you reply back. your voice is gentle and low, and suguru could feel his stomach making twists and turns just because of it. “are you busy right now?”

“no, not at all. have about two hours until my meeting,” suguru replies, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. he’s currently sitting by the desk in his hotel room, reviewing the files and presentation for the next meeting. though they’re important, the time with you was much more valuable and necessary for suguru. “what about you? are you tired?”

“nope, i’m not. but.. i’ve been missing you so much, sugu,” you whisper, your tone seemingly becoming more… seductive? suguru could immediately detect what you’ve been up to before calling him and he could feel his pants become tighter. “i miss you too. so, so much. i wanna see your pretty face, baby,” suguru replies, gently biting his lower lip.

“facetime me. i have something to show you,” you add and suguru pulls his phone away to immediately do so. he clicks on the facetime icon without hesitation and lowers his gaze to the screen as you appear.

suguru’s eyes widen and his mouth almost drops as he sees you dressed up in a laced lingerie, his favorite one actually. the way you’ve angled your phone in front of the soaked area of your panties that was barely covering your pussy was sending blood rapidly to suguru’s dick. suguru grunts, a hand rubbing over the bulge of his pants as he watches you slide your middle finger against your clothed cunt.

“like what you see, baby?” you ask, a soft moan following after.

“fuck.. yes, princess— mmh,” suguru groans, his face becoming flushed with red. he watches you press your fingertip against the wet fabric and in your pussy, dick twitching nearly each time you moaned and called out his name. “see that, baby? see how wet i am for you?” you ask, circling your finger against your clit and search for suguru’s reaction through the screen.

suguru’s face was nearly in full view for you, and you grinned at how flustered he had become. “s-shit, ngh- baby, i’m so hard right now. show me your pussy,” suguru replies, lowering his screen to show you his aching dick trying to break pass his pants. spreading your legs further, you push the material of your panties to the side, revealing your dripping wet cunt and suguru almost came in his pants at the sight.

“mmh, l-let me see your cock too, baby,” you request, rubbing your clit with two fingers before pushing them pass your folds. suguru watches as you thrust your fingers in and out of you slowly, making him imagine that it was his fingers instead.

he grunts, lifting up his shirt and unzipping his pants before wrapping his hand around his hard throbbing dick. “haahh.. keep touching yourself like that, princess. keep thinking of me fingering your pussy,” suguru whimpers, pumping his length and swirling his thumb around his swollen tip leaking with pre-cum.

“mm! s-sugu… please, i need your cock in me~” you moan out, thrusting your fingers faster and curling them to rub against your g-spot. you’d pull your soaked fingers out, spreading your arousal around your pussy before pushing them back in deep.

suguru’s breath becomes heavier as he watches you play with yourself and listens to the neediness and begging for him. of course, he desperately wanted to pound his cock into you, stuff you with all of his warm cum and feel your body against his— hear you scream and cry out his name until you couldn’t anymore. damn, should he just forget about this business trip and fly back home?

you stop fingering yourself the next few moments, and suguru watches as you present a vibrating dildo into the screen. his eyes grow big, since the dildo appeared like a real life dick. he knew you had sex toys and he didn’t mind you having them, but he had never seen this one before.

“i-i always imagine this is your cock whenever you’re away,” you reveal to him, wetting the dildo with your arousal and some lube before prodding the cold tip against your entrance. suguru can hear the low vibrations of the dildo as you push the toy into you, and his dick throbs from seeing you tremble. “but.. it’s nothing compared to you.. sugu.. i promise..”

suguru grits his teeth, observing the way you began plunging the dildo deep inside of you, causing your moans to become louder and wet sounds to be audible through his phone’s speaker. fuck, how he was instantly becoming jealous of a damn toy being inside of you.. he made himself feel a little better by imagining it was his cock instead, fucking into you so far and getting responses of you like that.

“yeah, is that right? when i get back, i’m gonna fuck that filthy pussy of yours. make you forget using that damn toy,” suguru moans, pumping his hands faster and rubbing harder against his redden tip. he was so close to cumming, and he could tell you were close too. suguru whines, chanting your name softly as he glances at your messy face. “‘guru~ yesyes, p-please fuck mee,” you whimper to his words, feeling the dildo vibrate against your sensitive g-spot as your legs become wobbly.

suguru moans, imagining you there with him, riding him and squeezing him as you bounce up and down. was it always like this when he was away? was this why every time he came back, you became more clingy and needier? was he gone for too long this time that you couldn’t stand it anymore? suguru didn’t necessarily know, but the thoughts were making him reach his climax faster. “god- you’re so perfect, [name]. so fucking beautiful and all mine,” suguru grunts the compliment, glancing at your expression once more. “‘m so close, baby. gonna cum soon- shit-“

“m-me too, suguru…” you reply, eyes nearly rolling back as you turn the dildo’s vibrations to max. you thrust the toy several times, moaning your husband’s name and using your other fingers to thumb circles against your clit before cumming all over. “look at that.. wanna taste you so bad,” suguru smiles, watching as you pull and toss the soaked dildo to the side.

suguru cums next, releasing the warm liquid all over his lower belly and hands. “fuckkk,” he moans, your name following right after as rushes of ecstasy flows through his entire body and throws his head back.

you both remain silent for a few moments, catching your breaths before pushing the screens to your face again. suguru grabs a few tissues to clean his mess and could tell you were also slowly cleaning up, though you appeared quite saddened rather than pleased. he frowns upon seeing your expression, “baby, what’s wrong?” he inquires, sincerely concerned.

“nothing. just wish you were actually here with me right now, that’s all,” you respond, hoping it’d be reassuring enough because suguru would always inquire and make sure you’re actually okay before feeling fine himself. he was literally your mirror, replicating and feeling almost everything you did.

suguru becomes saddened too, due to the emotion of your voice and expression. he genuinely wishes he could embrace you right now, give you all of his affection and hold you close with the intentions of never letting go. but you both knew that it was going to be a little while, just another week. it really wasn’t going to be that bad, and if you two are ever needy of each other— well, masturbating together over the phone seems to have been an unlocked option.

“i miss you too baby, more than you think, you know that?” suguru smiles softly and finishes wiping himself before directing all of his attention to you. “but, we can chat for another hour, i’m all yours right now.”

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.