#trying out a thing where I post here whenever I post on ao3
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you think i’m such a good thing (you have no idea)
Masterlist!
Ava Silva x Sister Beatrice 
Rating: T
Word Count: 14k 
One Shot 
Summary: 
Rising indie-pop band HALO is on its second tour, and Beatrice Young has a massive crush on lead singer Ava Silva. This is all fine and good (the internet says get in line), but being her bandmate and best friend does make things a lot more complicated.
Read HERE on AO3
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n0bluev · 4 months ago
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The night sky can only be overshadowed by a star (its star.). A star of all things, the one thing that cannot be allowed to see the night of the sky, angled to be hidden away behind dawn and dusk. The night leaves quietly (but is cursed to come back ; avoiding is just like following when an orbit is shared.)
A star can only go off explosively, spectacularly. (Then, collapsed in on itself, away from the world to see (finally part of the shadow the night cast) it seems the bare core is at peace with never bringing day back : darkness soothes.)
Gojo is like a star - bright, hot, shining. Geto is like the night sky - mysterious, deep, endless.
#how do you feel about the fact that a star can never see the night [edit : *i* feel unwell; im adding that to the post actually hah]#that end lol. Thankfully there are other stars out there... COUGHHH CouGH#« What's left over after a supernova explosion is a 'neutron star' – the collapsed core of the star –#or. if there's sufficient mass. a black hole »#-> my honest reaction : "NOOOOO YUTA DONTGET SUCKED IN [the black hole] NOOoOooO /j/j/j (ily gege(when i catch u tho?...))#overshadowed ;; overLIGHTED* in this case i guess coughg-#oh and consider this : gojo only became the sun at *honoured one* : thats when he stopped being able to see (understand. ect) geto.#i never see that as a bad thing anyways.. theyre so conplex i love them#gojo trusted geto sm unconditionally.... (geto same. i hate them actually#go be gay elsewhere cowards /j)#(death trap shonen is just not it... /j/j im patting jjk on the head rn 'ur doing great!..')#thought of more light / shadow stuff....... ugrghh#gahh analogies... yay???? (when i get started theres always more..--my best friend; hater of metaphors (both /gen and as a bit); would#likely strangle me if she were to read the bits in my stuff where i make connections (that make sense to me🥺🥺) and i take the#themes of whatever im trying to convey and shake them like maracass until my brain calms down#to her it may look like im microwaving 5min then airfrying then cooling then re-crispying in the oven a couple times until for her it just#looks like a burnt charcoal. : bon appétit motherfucker (-me)#(im exagerating)#(but at the same time not)#and also she loves me so shes forced to appreciate whatever comes out of my brain. (shes sooo able to match my freak i am not worried<3)#.......................i dont even like this poetic stuff that much but i always end up falling into an analogy trap ?????#and then bam thats a whole paragraph of poetic nonsense that makes sense to me™#i need to practice writing#ill make it good good good one day#trust 😌#ill find the(my) ideal balance#(watch out ao3 ! TT)#mybad ive lost control of the tags. goodday or goodnight wherever whenever you are (wow okay. day n night. bye)#zzzz zzz <- me (ciao)#i think i have too many tags. it deletes my “I LIED: HERES ANOTHER THOUGHT PROCESS” take... TT
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satxnsupreme666 · 1 month ago
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I almost lost you: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader/ Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Masterlist
Requested by: @midnight-lestrange​
Summary: Agatha´s in love with you and you´re in love with her as well but she doesn’t know that, instead she thinks you have something with Wanda so Agatha stops talking to you, until you get severely injured.
This is a romantic!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader and Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.
Words: 6k+
Warnings: Slight angst, minor mentions of blood and reader getting hurt, but happy ending (I love happy endings btw)
Author´s notes: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.
This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.
Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.
I hope you like it! ♥️
If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really
Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance  (If someone else wants to be added to the Taglist you can send me a message or an ask, it´s alright)
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Wanda was around you all the time, she never left your side, there wasn’t a moment when you were alone, it was almost as if Wanda didn’t want Agnes or anyone else to get close to you, whenever you went, no matter where,  Wanda was there by your side, grabbing your hand or holding you closer to her, she was all the time with you and this bothered Agnes a lot.
It was even weird to see you alone for more than one minute, Wanda was always behind you, making sure no one got near you, not even Dottie and she found that really amusing.
However when it came to Wanda not letting her get near you was annoying, Agnes just wanted to talk to you and hold your hand, she didn’t expect to fall for you so quickly, but she couldn’t help it, you were so sweet, your smile could brighten any room and she loved how you used to move your hands when you talked about something you loved.
The first time Agnes met you had been one week after she arrived to Westview you had left Wanda´s house and she was surprised when she saw you, Agnes smiled at the memory.
“Hiya Honey” You heard someone greeting you so you turned yourself to look at the owner of the voice, and behind you was a woman with a bike and her long dark-brown hair was bright, you smiled back at her.
“Hi” You said feeling a little shy
“I´m Agnes darling, lovely to meet you” She said with a big smile and you blushed when she winked at you
“My name´s y/n”
“So, you´re my neighbor too, right? I saw you coming out from Wanda´s house darling, I didn’t know you lived with her” Her tone was cheerful and her happy mood was contagious
“Oh yes I live there with Wanda, have you met her already?” You asked her with a curious tone
“Of course, darling I met her a week ago, she even made a performance at the talent show days ago” You frowned, a week? That couldn’t be possible right? Maybe Wanda had changed the memories of the residents here to make them believe it had already passed a week, you couldn’t just believe it, or could it be true? Of course, Wanda told you everything when you woke up, she didn’t like hiding things from you and you felt happy because she didn’t erase your memories.
Agnes found really strange that she hadn’t seen you since she arrived and she had already entered Wanda´s house many times all this week and this was the first time she saw you, what else was Wanda hiding?
“Oh well that´s great, she´s really cool” You said trying to recall the past days, it was weird you felt like you had arrived here yesterday, you tried to brushed it off, it was really not important.
“Yes, darling she´s really cool” She squinted her eyes a little, as if she was analyzing you carefully
“So, tell me honey, where are you going to?”
“I was going to see the town, I just woke up… from a long nap” You were unsure of what you were saying, you didn’t see the frown on Agnes face, this was interesting for her.
“Well, in that case I can go with you to show you the town, would you like that sweetheart?” You thought about it for a minute, she looked like a good person, so you agreed, it would be alright, and you couldn’t deny, this woman was really charming and pretty.
“I would like that” With a big smile on your face you looked at her again, you were sure you could finally be happy in this town.
“Let me put this on my garden, then we can leave doll” Doll, you said the pet name in your head, no one had called you so many pet names like her, and you liked it, you felt your chest getting warm, it was nice.
She took her bike and she placed it inside her garden and then she winked at you again, of course you laughed, she was really sweet.
“Come on dear, let´s go” Agnes linked her arm with yours and she pulled you closer to her, she brushed your hand with her fingers and you blushed furiously, the only person you felt comfortable being so close to was Wanda but Agnes made you feel just as comfortable if not more. You could smell her perfume it was a mix of vanilla and something else you couldn’t put your finger on, her perfume was really sweet and you found yourself wanting more, would she always spread her perfume all over herself when she got out of her house? Or maybe in the morning she spread it once and the essence just stayed over her all day?
“So darling, how did you arrive here?” You hear her soft voice asking you and you turned your head to have a full view of her features, you felt as if her blue eyes pierced your soul, she looked at you as if she was analyzing your expression, and you tilted you head a little to the other side thinking on what to answer, Agnes looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer, she was a very patient woman, and she could wait all the time for you to answer.
“If I recall correctly” You brought your left hand to your mouth, it was something you used to do whenever you tried to focus on something, it was an unconscious thing you did.
“I arrived here with Wanda, she drove us from some offices in her car and the ride was pretty long, I just remember falling asleep and when I woke up I was in my bed” Agnes arched her eyebrow, feeling confused because of your answer, nodding her head she bit her lip, she needed more information to understand what was going on with you.
“That´s alright dear, when you wake up from really long nap, you can feel lost, it has happened to me, especially after a long night of partying” You laughed at the movements she made with her hands as if she was dancing and she moved her shoulder to brush it against yours.
You felt so carefree with her, she made you feel alive, it was a feeling you didn’t get to have, years ago with Wanda you could only pass your nights at the compound watching a movie or cooking, but still you felt trapped, but here with Agnes, you felt that you could do anything and you wouldn’t be judged.
“Oh, hi Dottie, I love your roses!” Looking at the person whom Agnes was talking to, you saw a woman with blonde hair working in her garden.
“Thank you, Agnes,” The woman, Dottie, said back and when Agnes turned her face to look at you, she rolled her eyes and she had a funny expression on her face, she made you giggle, she was really something else.
After ten minutes you finally arrived at what it looked it was the center of the town, there were children playing with each other and some adults were sitting in the lawn, some of them were having picnics with their children and you smiled, it was a really different view from what you had seen in the last years, your memory wandered back for seconds to your old life, you felt yourself getting a little sad, outside of all these amazing things you were enjoying, you didn’t know how everything was. Agnes noticed the change in your mood, she could sense your sadness and it was as if she felt a little of what you were feeling, Agnes wanted to drag your attention from whatever you were thinking, but she didn’t know where the urges to see you smile again came from.
“Hey sweety, do you like Ice cream?” Hearing her talking to you was enough to forget about the negative thoughts, and you felt grateful for that.
“Yes, I like Ice cream, do you like it?” Seeing you smile again made her feel better, she was not sure why, maybe it was because you had a really pretty smile.
“I love it doll, what about if we go to that ice cream shop, we can get to know each other better” Agnes took your hand and dragged you to the shop, you felt her soft touch in your hand and you felt you face heating, this woman made you blush a lot. Also, you really liked the way she grabbed your hand; she did it as gentle as possible as if you were about to break.
When you entered you decided you wanted a milkshake instead of just Ice cream, and Agnes was happy to order for you, after you told her your favorite flavor, she went to tell the girl attending what the two of you wanted and you just waited for Agnes to return in one of the booths there.
You were distracted by the surroundings, everything was really pretty and even though you found strange that some places where exactly as you had imagined sometimes, everything was beautiful, you remembered one day that you were discussing all the things you would love to visit with Wanda, and you remembered telling her about a place like this.
“A penny for your thoughts sweetheart?” She asked you while sitting herself next to you, you felt her leg brushing yours and you tried to hide your blush by resting your chin on your hand.
Agnes looked at you thoroughly, she knew you were hiding something, and she wanted to know what it was, but this was different, she wanted to know Wanda´s secret because of her immense powers, but with you it was different, she felt the necessity to know what was affecting you, she wanted to help you, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“Wanda used to rent movies and buy ice cream for movie nights” You muttered and if Agnes hadn’t been paying attention, she wouldn’t have heard you.
The waitress came with your orders and placed them in front of you, you said to her a barely audible thank you and you took a sip of your milkshake, it was really good, you loved it.
“We used to watch our favorite series; she loves old sitcoms you know?  and to be honest I kind of like them too” Agatha was looking your features and how you were playing with the straw, with your free hand you started to play with some strands of your hair, she could say you were talking more to yourself than to her, you were really in deep thought.
“I really liked when we passed time together, she has always been kind towards me but I feel something has changed, I´m not sure if things could go back as how they were” You were not sure what had changed but you felt something off.
Agnes felt bad for you, even if she didn’t know your entire story she felt empathetic, your pretty features looked sad again, and even if she wanted to do something, she didn’t know what to do, so she put her hand on your shoulder to give it a squeeze, unconsciously you leant your head into her hand.
“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice that made you sat straight
“Wanda?” You smiled, what was she doing here? she was supposed to be at home, but here she was, in front of Agnes and you.
“What are you doing here?” You asked and you noticed how Agnes didn’t take her hand off your shoulder
“I was worried, I thought you would come home earlier, you´re never outside more than just one hour” You could see her a little tense, you didn’t understand what was the problem
Agnes found the scene quite weird, why had Wanda come to look for you? She wasn’t your girlfriend to be looking for you just because you hadn’t arrived home yet, or were you?
“Hey Wanda sweetheart, you do not have to worry I took good care of her, right honey?” You saw Wanda relaxing a bit, it looked like Wanda trusted Agnes
“Agnes thank you seriously, I thought she had got lost”
You played with the straw in your milkshake until you decided to just drink it, you didn’t notice Agnes was staring at you. you were so sweet but the sadness in your eyes was the thing that she could see the most.
“Is that good?” Wanda had asked you with a grin on her face, she really liked that you were enjoying yourself, she had created a lot of things according to what she had seen inside your mind.
“Yes, is really good, it reminds me of the same milkshake you bought for me back in-
“New York?” Wanda finished your sentence and you smiled back at her.
“Remember that cafeteria we saw in the pictures of the souvenirs in Germany?” Agnes saw Wanda getting closer to you
“Yes! The one with the retro booths and the tables, even the lights were some kind of retro decorations, I loved it, wait” You gave a quick glance to the ice cream shop, it was exactly as you remembered the cafeteria in the pictures, Wanda saw your excitement and she knew you had discovered she had created this place for you.
Agnes seemed to notice that as well, she had put the pieces together, so Wanda hadn’t just created this place just for her, she had created this for you as well, and what she understood, was that Wanda had even decorated the place according to what you liked, for her Wanda had acted out of love, giving you all these things, she understood how much Wanda loved you, but in what sense? She wanted to know, but this time she didn’t want to act as the nosy neighbor, she really wanted to know what was going on with you two, but she didn’t dare to ask you straightforward.
“Did you have a good time with Agnes “Wanda suddenly asked, you didn’t understand why she asked you that, and Agnes frowned, why would she ask that in front of her?
“Oh yes, totally, she is really funny, I loved being here with her” You turned your head to smile at Agnes and she winked at you and this time Agnes brought her hand to brush a strand off your hair, she couldn’t help herself you looked so cute when you blushed, Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised because of what Agnes had done and of course Agnes saw her expression.
“Hey Agnes you wouldn’t mind if I take y/n home?” You hastily looked at Wanda and of course Wanda saw your confused expression but decided to ignore your expression.
Agnes squinted her eyes, why would Wanda wanted to take y/n back to their house? You had told her you liked being here with her, but she decided she could let you go this time; you were not going anywhere so she would have the time to speak to you another day.
“Of course, I wouldn’t mind, we can meet up another day, right sweetheart?”
But you didn’t meet up with her again, that happened two weeks ago and since that day Wanda never left your side again, she remembered the day where she bumped into you “by accident” at the supermarket, she felt happy that day because you talked with her for about ten minutes.
“Agnes, what a surprise, are you here to buy some chocolate too?” You asked her biting your lower lip, what a great coincidence.
Of course it hadn’t been any type of coincidence, she had just followed Wanda and you, but she wasn’t going to let you know that, she was happy that you weren’t with Wanda for at least a couple of minutes.
“Oh no sweetheart, I came here to buy this” She pointed to a single bottle of wine that she was holding in her hand
“That’s great, I’m still thinking which type of chocolate I should choose, I really like that one” You pointed at a white chocolate bar, “But I also like that one too” You said while you took a normal chocolate bar, it was so hard to decide,  Agnes could watch you all the time, she could wait for you until you decided, she loved watching your expressions.
“Why not both?” She asked you while looking at the chocolates
Agnes was about to say something else but then Wanda came.
“Have you decided yet which one you want?” Wanda asked coming closer to you, she put her hand on your shoulder and that didn’t pass unnoticed to Agnes.
Seriously why Wanda kept interrupting you? As far as she knew Wanda was with Vision, then why didn´t she let you have a proper conversation with her?
You didn’t understand why Wanda really didn’t want you to talk to Agnes, she knew you liked her a lot.
For her part, Wanda was surprised, how was possible that you felt so comfortable with someone you had met just some weeks ago? She didn’t want you to get attached to someone who wasn’t even real at all, she didn’t want you to be heartbroken, she really hoped no one would ever come here to bother you or her, and she believed her magic was strong enough in order not to let anyone from outside enter without her knowing, but what if, just what if someone else broke into Westview and released all the inhabitants? She couldn’t even stand the thought of Agnes leaving the town and in consequence of that you would be left heartbroken, if that happen, she knew it would be her fault, she just didn’t want you to end up hurt, it would be better if you didn’t get too close to her.
Wanda thought Agnes was under her mind control and she thought Agnes was acting this way towards you because when she created the town she also was thinking that you could finally find someone who would love you and appreciate you, someone whom you could be happy with, but now that she thought about it carefully, if all of this didn’t work out, she didn’t want you to feel hurt because of her, but she couldn’t tell you to stop seeing Agnes, so she had to think of something else to do.
You had already passed through a lot of bad things, she didn’t want to add a heartbreak, years ago Wanda had rescued you from a Hydra base, they had experimented on you and when she looked at you Wanda instantly felt a connection with you, she could see herself in you, alone and with no one to look after her, since that day she decided she would be the one to help you recover, you would never be alone again, she was the closest thing to family, Wanda promised herself to look after you.
To you, Wanda was like a mom, she helped you understand your powers, she taught you how to use them but also, she taught you to trust again, with her help little by little you started to come out of your shell, she was happy that she could help you and of course she saw you as if you were her own daughter, she missed Pietro and she would always miss him, but with you by her side, she thought she could keep going, Wanda just wanted to protect you.
Agnes didn’t know any of this so her only theory was that you and Wanda were secretly dating, she felt hurt of course, Agnes wanted to have something with you but she thought that maybe you didn’t see her as just the friendly nosy neighbor, which to be honest she didn’t even like the role, at this point she wasn’t even interested in Wanda´s magic anymore, she could have left town but she decided to stay for you, but you didn’t even looked for her, she was conflicted, she had thought you had feelings for her, but looking at you here in the park with Wanda´s hand on your back, she realized you weren’t interested in her, so she stopped looking for you, she stopped visiting you at your house to give you little presents, she just focused her mind into getting to understand Wanda´s magic, after that she would just leave Westview.
You notice how Agnes started to ignore you, and you felt hurt, you felt heartbroken, what had happened? You didn’t understand, you thought things were going great between you and Agnes, you were aware that you didn’t talk a lot, but when you did, you felt happy with her and you thought she was happy too, sometimes when you wanted to go look for Agnes, something stopped you from going to look for her, like the time you were at the town center and you saw Agnes leaving the park, you wanted to go after her to greet her, but out of nowhere a bunch of people started to work on the street, you couldn’t leave the place because the men told you, no one was allowed to pass.
Or like that time when you were at the bookstore with Wanda and you saw Agnes walking down the street, you quickly went to the door to reach her but when you grabbed the doorknob you noticed it was stuck, you couldn’t open the door, even two teenagers that were hanging around the bookstore tried to open the door but they couldn’t, when you looked through the window to see if Agnes was still there, you didn’t see her and you pouted, it was as if something was preventing you to talk to her, it was really frustrating.
But now it was as if Agnes acted as if you didn’t exist, when she walked past your house and you were in the garden, she didn’t greet you anymore.
You were heartbroken, you didn’t know what to do, and you were afraid that if you tried to talk to her, she would just ignore you.
Wanda of course noticed the change in your mood, she felt guilty because she had caused this, and now she didn’t know how to fix it, Wanda hated to see you so sad, should she talk to Agnes? Or tell you the truth?
Wanda tried to think of what to do but at the same time she was dealing with the soldiers outside that were trying to enter Westview, she hadn’t told you any of this because she didn’t want you to add more things to your problems, she would have to deal with SWORD first. She had been trying to just ignore them but they kept sending the damned drones, and it was a matter of time for you to notice that there was something wrong.
It was late at night and you and Wanda were in your garden, you were watching the stars, how could this be something Wanda had created, it was really beautiful and even though you felt sad because of Agnes at the same time you felt at home, Wanda had told you that you would finally would have a place to call home.
The memory came to your mind and you smiled
“Listen, we will go home, alright? We will finally have a place to call home, but first I need you to go somewhere with me, and I need you to stay with me all the time alright?” You nodded at her and she dropped a kiss to your hair, she hugged you and you just leant into her, you trusted her with your heart.
“You won´t have to worry again, we will be a family” When she told you that she brought her hand to stroke your hair but when her fingers brushed your temple, you suddenly felt sleepy and you just fell asleep.
You felt tears at the corner of your eyes, Wanda had made sure to create all of this for you and for her, but still you felt something was missing, and that thing was Agnes, you really missed her a lot, she made you laugh, you felt safe with her and now she just ignored you.
You heard a sound as if something was coming towards you and when you looked in front of you, you saw there was a little airplane in the air, Wanda noticed it too and you saw her hands glowing red, you were not sure what was happening but you sensed that she was angry, really angry and with a movement of her hand the little airplane fell to the ground with a thud, the sound made you jump a little, what had just happened?
“I need you to stay here” Wanda´s voice was harsh, she was really angry but you didn’t know why
She took the airplane with one hand and lifted herself from the ground, leaving you there in the middle of the street, however you didn’t listen to her and followed her, since you had arrived here Wanda hadn’t used her ability to fly, so this was important, lucky for you, you could fly too, so you followed her from a good distance.
You saw her landing on Ellis avenue, she had told you not to come here many times, so it was weird, so you landed a few meters away from her
Wanda kept walking but you didn’t understand where she was going until you saw her passing through something, it was a magical field, you didn’t even know there was a field around town; Wanda easily passed through it and of course you followed her.
Now you were really close to the magical field and being this close was enough for you to see the small lines that looked like the screen of an old tv you were afraid because you didn’t know what was outside Westview, what had angered Wanda so much?
Taking a deep breath, you built the courage to pass through the field, you closed your eyes and when you were sure you were not inside Westview anymore you opened your eyes again.
You were not expecting hundreds of soldiers to be looking at you, it had been a complete mistake to walk through the magical field after all.
“I told you to stay inside!” Wanda´s accent was thicker and you could tell she was beyond pissed, so you just bit your lip, you could deal with her later.
“y/n?” Someone said your name and you lifted your head to see a woman with glasses, you had seen her before but you were not sure where.
“So, your little protégé has been here with you all this time? Do you know how many times we have been looking for you? Did you help her to trap all these people here?” This time it was an old man who held a smirk on his face
“Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this, leave her out of this, you came for me, not for her” The man laughed and he moved his hand it was a sign for all the soldiers to point their guns at you, now you were afraid, this had been a huge mistake.
Wanda used her powers to make them point their guns towards the man
“Wanda no! He´s just trying to provoke you, you´re not the villain” A woman walked towards Wanda a little, she was brave enough to do that, you were impressed.
You heard a sound, it was the sound of someone chambering a gun, you hastily looked where was the sound coming from and when you saw a soldier from far away pointing his gun to Wanda ready to pull the trigger you instantly used your powers, blue glowing from your eyes and hands, you lifted him In the air and threw him into some trees, the sudden sound distracted Wanda and she looked at you but that was enough for the man to grab the gun of the nearest soldier and he pulled the trigger, the bullet was going to hit Wanda right In her chest, you used your powers to push her to the ground and luckily the bullet didn’t hit her but this time you didn’t see him pointing at you, he pulled the trigger and you felt a sharp pain in your chest, everything happened so fast, the pain was unbearable, you felt like you were about to faint but Wanda grabbed you and with her free hand she threw the soldiers to the ground.
She lifted you in her arms and took you inside Westview again, she couldn’t believe you had just been hit by a bullet, she had wanted to kill the soldiers but she had to act quickly.
Agnes heard a lot of noise so she left her house and what she saw, horrified her, Wanda left you on the grass of your garden you had blood in your clothes and Wanda had blood in her hands.
“What happened?” Agnes was so worried, she couldn’t believe Wanda had let you get hurt, at the sound of her voice you lifted your head a little and you smiled, she had come to see you
“Agnes?” You said between coughs, the pain was awful.
Wanda tried to use her powers to take the bullet out of your body but it was hard, she couldn’t do it, her hands were shaking and she couldn’t think straight, you were bleeding and her powers were not working, she cursed and yelled, she couldn’t heal you.
Agnes was desperate she had to try something.
“Move Wanda” Wanda looked at her with a confused look what was she thinking? Wanda was about to say something but Agnes moved her hands and purple smoke emanated from her, the red haired woman was shocked, she was a witch?
Agnes knelt beside you and she covered your chest with her hands, Wanda saw her fingers moving and heard Agnes chanting something in a strange language, by this point Agnes was crying, tears were streaming from her eyes and Wanda was trying to process everything.
Suddenly the blood stopped coming from the wound you had and when Agnes moved her hands off you, there was no trace of any wound, any scar, you had fainted but at least you were alive.
“She´s alright now, she will need some time to rest” Wanda heard the woman and she nodded
“Who are you?”
“My name´s Agatha Harkness and we have a lot to talk, but not now” Wanda felt grateful, she had saved your life, and she couldn’t be more grateful.
 When you woke up two days later, you gasped, what had happened? You weren’t dead?
“Be careful dear” It was Agnes´ voice and you quickly turned your head to look at her, she was sitting in a chair beside your bed.
“Am I dead?” Agnes laughed a little and she shook her head.
“What happened?” You remembered feeling a sharp pain and you touched your chest, there was nothing there
“You were shot sweetheart” Agnes ‘voice broke, she was trembling and you couldn’t understand why, Agnes brough her hands to your face and she stroked your cheek, you loved her touch
“I thought you were going to die, I almost lost you, I thought I would never see you again, I was scared, I couldn’t stand the thought of you dying, I love you so much” Your eyes widened and you felt genuine happiness, she loved you the same, you couldn’t stand it anymore and you kissed her.
You felt one of her hands hugging your waist, she had a strong grip around you and her free hand touched your face, she brushed her fingers softly against the skin of your cheek.
You broke the kiss and smiled at her, finally you felt you were complete, she was what you needed the most.
“I love you too Agnes” She bit her lip, she had to tell you the truth, she closed her eyes, she didn’t know how you were going to react
“Doll, listen, my name´s not Agnes, my real name is Agatha Harkness and I´m a witch, I stopped the bleeding thanks to my dark magic, but I really love you, and I´m sorry I started to ignore you, I thought you were with Wanda and-” A laughed made her open her eyes again, you were laughing at her, but how could she have thought you were with Wanda?
“Why did you think I was with Wanda? She´s like a mom to me” You gave her a soft peck on her lips and she happily received it.
“It doesn’t matter now, because now I know you love me just as much as I do, also you do not have to worry, I really like your real name, and thank you so much for saving me, I´m pretty sure Wanda is grateful too” You hugged her again and you rested your head in her shoulder, she already had talked to Wanda, Agatha explained everything to her and Wanda did the same, Wanda was really grateful, she didn’t know what would have happened if she had lost you, and Agatha felt the same, you were her entire world, she wouldn’t lose you, and she wouldn’t ignore you again.
“I promise you, I won´t leave your side, I will protect you too and I won´t ever ignore you again, I feel so bad for that doll”
“It´s alright, you don´t have to blame yourself, now we can start again, this time we will make sure to avoid misunderstandings, ok?” Agatha sighed and nodded she looked at you with so much love in her eyes
“I love your eyes they´re so pretty you know?” She leant to kiss you again and when she pressed her lips to yours, the door of you room was opened, again Wanda had interrupted you but this time Wanda smiled, she knew Agatha was the right person for you, she was sure of it.
“I just came here to see if you were already awake, we still have to talk y/n, but for now I will just let you enjoy your time with Agatha” With that said she left your room, with the door opened, of course she did that.
You tilted your head to look at Agatha´s face, you were really in love with her.
“I love you so much y/n, I won´t leave you” You were sure she wouldn’t do it; you could feel the love she felt for you.
“Do you want to go downstair for something to eat? I´m hungry, I could make something for the two of us” Agatha nodded and stood from her chair she stretched her hand out for you to take it and you eagerly took it, this was good, now you were starting a new chapter and she was the missing piece, finally you felt happy, this was the family you had wanted.
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swordsandholly · 7 months ago
Text
Steel Magnolia
Part 1 - paused
Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader
No use of y/n
Rating: Mature/MDNI
Word Count: 2.1k
Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.
Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.
“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.
“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”
“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”
“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.
“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.
The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.
There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.
Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.
You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.
Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…
Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.
You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.
The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-
The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”
You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.
“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”
That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”
He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.
Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.
“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”
He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”
“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.
“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.
“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.
“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.
Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”
“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”
“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’
You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”
“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.
A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”
As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.
*Kyle and Simon,* you think.
You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.
Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”
“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”
“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.
“They’re from the UK.” You offer.
“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”
“Yep.” You grin.
Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”
“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.
She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”
The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.
You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.
You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”
She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”
You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.
“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.
“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.
“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”
You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.
As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.
“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.
“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.
Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”
You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”
The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”
You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.
You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.
“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.
“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”
“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”
You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”
“Nooo!” She pouts.
“Then no Bluey.”
Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.
Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.
You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.
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eyelessfaces · 2 months ago
Text
ashes to ashes
firefighter!poe dameron x reader
it's been so long since I first announced this fic, I know. loosely inspired by this post. thank you to @ofstarsandvibranium for allowing me to write something based on the concept <3
summary: crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
warnings: depiction of a fire, post-trauma, brief mentions of ptsd, mentions of homelessness, questioning your whole goddamn life, angst, reader has hair
tags: f!reader, obvious firefighter au, slowburn... lol... burn. get it? because of the fire. anyways. mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing
word count: 8.3k
moodboard!
heat me up masterlist
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
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Chicago had the infamous reputation of having harshingly cold winters; that was the promise you had had when you moved there, and as soon as summer faded into fall and instead began to feel like winter, you quickly understood what it was all about, where the myth came from.
And it was okay, in your small apartment at least. 
It was okay whenever the main heating system of the building was working, because it wasn’t always. Surely a small detail your landlord had forgotten to tell you about when you signed the lease. 
Piling up blankets was fine, but that wasn’t the easiest way to stay warm and certainly not your idea of a good winter period.
It was okay again once you made the bright decision of buying a space heater to put in your living room, then it was not okay the night you woke up to the harsh and very distinct smell of smoke because your carpet had caught on fire.
Not exactly the kind of warmth you were expecting.
And it must have been the chemicals, because while down on the floor, crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
And just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
“Hey, hey. What's your name?” the man shouted loud enough to cover the default slight muffle of his mask and the menacing creaking of flames claiming your space.
You replied in a drowsy, dazed mumble, and it felt like you were on autopilot mode, like your body was acting on his own, your mind not following – you're barely sure of the veracity of what you're saying, and your answer is punctuated by a painful cough.
“Alright, I’m Poe.” he affirmed with a nod before observing and evaluating the behavior of the flames in your apartment. He looked back down at you, his grip on you tightening. “I’m gonna get you out of here okay? Stay with me.” he demanded, cradling the back of your head as you struggled to get air back in your lungs.
You nodded hastily, shutting your eyes tight as he lifted you up, hoping it would make it all better; the reflection of flames in his mask was too painful to see, and you knew seeing all the debris across your apartment would make you faint if you didn’t because of the smoke.
You could only hear the crackling of flames and the distant wail of sirens filling the air as the firefighter stumbled out of there, his grip on you firm yet gentle. You fought to cling to consciousness, trying to focus on the rhythm of his steps as he guided you to safety out of the building.
Your coughs were painful, and the contrast of the fresh cold night air as you got carried outside hit you all at once.
“It's okay, you're out of here, you did amazing” you heard the firefighter say, his voice barely audible to you as you felt yourself go.
The last thing you remember from there is him calling for the medics as a black veil covers your eyes.
It takes no time for you to readjust your position in your hospital bed when one of the firefighters pushes the door to your room open.
“Can I?” he asks with a small smile, to which you approve. “How are you feeling?” the man asks as he steps in, carefully closing the door behind him.
“Could be better” you scoff, a coughing fit quickly interrupting you. You try to take a deep breath once you’re done, as the doctor advised you.
“Are you the one that got me out of my apartment?” you manage to ask quietly once you catch your breath, your voice rough.
“Yes” he declares as he approaches, and you squint and read what's written behind his turnout coat as he pulls a chair to sit beside your bed. “You got lucky the fire started in your living room” he continues as he sits down, his lips curling into a small, empathetic smile. He has a handsome face, you can tell now that you can truly and clearly look at the man that saved you. There’s a faint, small scar over his cheek, probably one he got on the field, you guess. His brown eyes are gentle as he looks at you, his gaze somehow consoling, reassuring in some kind of way.
You have no idea what time it is or how long you’ve been there, but he still has some dirt over his face and his dark curls are unkempt, so you figure it might not be that long after it all happened.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Dameron” you croak out, your voice gravelly from coughing so much, and you weakly smile, reaching for the glass of water at your bedside.
“It’s only my duty” he chuckles, revealing an objectively charming smile as he helps and hands you your glass. “The fire started from an electrical problem in your space heater that caused it to short circuit.”
You take a sip of water, taking the information into account. 
“Guess my idea of staying warm backfired,” you joke, with a demoralized smile.
He leans back in his chair, a weak, compassionate smile over his face. "It happens more often than you'd think. People underestimate the risks sometimes. Good thing you made it out okay."
You nod, putting the glass back where it was. “Yeah… I can’t believe half my place is gone.”
“It's tough, but, you know…” he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Things can be replaced. Lives can't.” His expression is serious but compassionate, and you appreciate his attempt at reassurance, even though the reality of losing most of your belongings and your place is still slowly, painfully sinking in. The room falls into a momentary deafening silence before he breaks it. “We managed to contain the fire, but your apartment took a hit. You'll get through this eventually, it’ll take some time but it's fixable” he declares in a tone both firm and comforting as he runs a hand over the light stubble on his cheeks.
You pinch your lips, your mouth abnormally dry though you just drank water. You shake your head, the knot tightening in your throat.
“Fuck, I have nowhere to go. I have no family here, I won’t get my apartment back before a while, hell, I don’t even know if I want it back” you sigh, reality suddenly hitting you right in the face. A chill runs down your spine as you say it, as if wording it out loud makes it become true.
The Lieutenant shifts in his chair again to lean closer, his hand coming to rest over your wrist.
“We can help you. I will help you.” he nods, searching your gaze. “You can stay in a hotel room while you get it all figured out,” he suggests, trying to cheer you up a bit, showing you the possibilities. “I know a nice hotel downtown, not too expensive, and I’m childhood friends with the manager’s son so you can say you’re coming from me” he smiles, trying to draw one out from you, though he knows damn well that his charming smile can’t do miracles in this job. “We have rehabilitation programs, people usually make it out okay, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. It takes some time, and you’ve gone through a trauma so it’s not easy at first, but I promise you it gets easier.”
You nod, pinching your lips in a small smile as you feel him slightly tighten his grip over your wrist. 
“It’s gonna be okay. I’ve seen people take this as a sign to begin again, an opportunity to start over” he nods again as you look up at him, his brown eyes glistening with a sense of hope that you want to believe in.
“I’ll probably do that. Thank you” you acquiesce, still not fully convinced, though his kindness and sympathy makes it all seem easier somehow. As you look at him, you can't help but wonder about the man behind the firefighter's gear, who he is beyond the guy that rescued you. He smiles gently, getting up from his seat. “And thank you for… You know, saving my life” you smile gratefully. “Really. I don't know how to repay you,” you say genuinely.
“Sure.” he waves off your gratitude. “No need. Just take care of yourself. And maybe consider a safer way to stay warm next time.” he jokes with a grin, but you know it’s lighthearted.
You manage a weak laugh, appreciating the lightness he brings to the whole situation. The gravity of it all is still there in the room and inside you, but the Lieutenant's presence and empathy makes it a bit more bearable.
“Alright, I better get going. If you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to stop by the fire station.” As he stands to leave, he glances back with a warm smile. “And take some rest. You'll be back on your feet soon.”
You nod, a polite and grateful smile over your face.
“Hey,” you call as he reaches for the door handle. He turns back to you, a wondering expression over his face. “What did you say your name was again, Lieutenant Dameron?” 
He smiles warmly, “Poe.” 
Poe’s eyes look up from the newspaper as his last name is called by one of his colleagues, followed by a quick gasped “someone for you” with a thumb directed towards the apparatus bay before said colleague leaves.
He tosses the newspaper onto the table his feet are propped onto before he gets up and beelines to the area he’s expected at, looking around for whoever is supposedly here for him until his gaze lays on you, a surprised smile growing over his face.
“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice echoing across the wide room. “How are you doing?” he asks as he walks over to you.
“Better than last time you saw me,” you start, smiling. “Still trying to figure everything out, it’s a bit exhausting but it has to be done, so” you shrug.
“Mhm,” he nods. “Well, as I said, if you need anything I’ll be happy to help” he suggests, a bright smile over his handsome face framed by neat, wavy dark curls. Now that his face is clean, you truly realize how pretty he looks, and his closely shaven face makes him look a bit younger, a bit more innocent than he did the last time you saw him.
“Thank you Lieutenant” you smile back.
“Oh– Please, call me Poe” he scoffs, waving you off. “You know that’s my name” he teases.
“Alright, Poe.” you oblige. “So, yeah, actually I came here to thank you again, and I brought this” you declare sheepishly, handing him a box wrapped in gift paper.
“Oh” his expression immediately turns into an apologetic one when he looks at what you have in hands. “That’s very kind of you but I can’t accept it,” he shakes his head with a skeptic smile. “Against policy.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I figured” you scoff, looking back at the box in your hands. “I wanted to try just in case” you shrug, defeated.
“Yeah sorry, legally and ethically we can’t accept those kinds of gifts.” he explains. “Someone once tried to write us a generous check, and as appealing as it seemed, we had to turn it down” he chuckles, hands coming to rest over his hips. 
“Wow.” you laugh. “Some people are really grateful huh?”
“I guess” he smiles. “And he’d still insist after I told him I could get fired for accepting the check.” 
“Fired?” you ask. 
“Yeah, money’s nice but I could get fired if they find out” Poe nods.
“Fired?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as a treacherous small smile unwillingly grows over your face.
“Yeah– Oh,” he huffs out a small laugh, before he eventually bursts out into chuckles. “Okay, alright, I get it” he nods, a playful, silly smile over his face. “Yeah, fired, unfortunate for a firefighter, right?” he scoffs, the corner of his eyes softly crinkling as he laughs.
“You get it” you laugh, unable to repress it when he wipes a hand over his face. “Sorry, this is lame.” 
“No, no, I actually never heard this one before–” 
The loud alarm sound cuts him off and resonates through the large room, announcing the units needed for an intervention. “Hah, I’m sorry, I gotta go” he says as you witness his squad rushing to the apparatus bay. “I’ll catch you later maybe, alright?”
“Sure, go do your thing” you pinch a smile, and he gives you back a bright one that makes your stomach flutter and a quick wave before jogging to the truck to quickly change into his intervention clothes.
The next time you come back to the station, you make sure it’s with a gift you’re certain he can accept. His face lights up when he sees you coming in, a warm smile plastered over his face.
You see the genuine appreciation in his eyes; even though you had made a good batch, your plate of cookies doesn’t survive for long, Poe’s squad and himself making a feast off of it.
“These are really good.” one of his colleagues babbles, mouth still full of his latest victim. A few poor crumbs are all that’s left off your plate. You smile.
“I’ll take your word for it” you chuckle, reaching to retrieve your empty plate.
“Come on guys, you didn’t even leave her one” Poe reproaches as he watches over you putting back the plastic film to cover the plate.
“You ate most of these Dameron,” another guy of the squad throws accusingly, making the Lieutenant scoff and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, sorry” he nods. “They are really good.” he says pointing at you. “Were,” he corrects himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry”
“That’s alright, those were for you” you immediately retort with a dismissive wave of your hand. Poe shoots you a sweet smile that you mirror before your gaze shifts to the clock on the wall to overlook the heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, you're good company but I gotta go” you announce as you stand from your seat, giving him a small smile.
“Thank you for the cookies” one of the firefighters calls out.
“Yeah. You really didn’t have to, thank you again” Poe nods as he follows you, a hand over your shoulder. You nod, a small, sheepish smile over your face at the physical contact. “Really, they’re the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, that's why I gobbled them like a glutton. Sorry again for not letting you have one. Is that your job? Are you like a pastry chef?” he asks with genuine curiosity, facing you as you both stop in your steps.
“Nah, just a hobby,” you affirm with a shake of your head and a wide smile that you can’t seem to repress. “But I’ll take the compliment. And you know, I had to go and borrow my friends’ kitchen to make those cookies, so it was basically teamwork”
“Well, gotta thank those friends too then” he grins. “No but really, they were so good. I’d pay for that” he admits as he tilts his head towards you, an admirative glint in his eyes. 
“Well good, because I need money to get my shit together” you joke. Poe smiles at your joke though it shifts into a genuine empathetic grin that you find adorable. You glance back at the clock when you start to feel the blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah, time to make money, I’m gonna be late to work” you sigh softly.
“Good luck”
“I’m not the one with a high risk job” you scoff. 
He grins and leads you back outside. “You know, we sometimes host charity events here. You could bring some cookies, I guarantee you you could raise a hell lot of money from that. Think about it. We’d let you use the oven here” he grins.
You nod, appreciating the idea. Plus, it’s a reason and occasion to see him again. 
“I will.”
Poe leans against the wall of the firehouse front wall, glancing at you until you're out of sight. He sighs softly when he goes back inside and notices your jacket on the chair.
It’s been seven hours; you’re not coming back for it.
His fingers mindlessly run back and forth over the seams of your jacket, his gaze planted towards the pile of paperwork over his desk, waiting to be filled and sent to his superiors.
A couple knocks at his doorframe tear him out of his reverie, eyes darting to Rey standing at the threshold of his office. He greets her with a faint smile as his chair turns to face her, and she frowns as she crosses her arms and leans her side against the doorframe.
“Been watching you, what's wrong?” she asks throwing her chin towards him, and he reacts with a huff from his nose and a shrug. The downside of having a glass windowed office with broken blinds.
“What do you mean what’s wrong” he nonchalantly asks, his voice low, putting your jacket down over his desk.
“You’re leaving this pile of paperwork to rot” she points out, looking at the sheets messily laid out over his desk.
He scoffs, like what she’s saying is complete nonsense. “You know I hate paperwork.”
He does, she knows that, but he hates it so much that he usually does it as soon as he gets it to be over with it, and to avoid procrastinating the daunting task. “I know you do but you usually sit and do it. Here you sat and didn’t do anything” she declares as she watches him slightly turn back and forth in his desk chair. “That’s not like you. You usually can’t stop working one way or another, can’t rest for five minutes.”
“Yeah,” he sighs softly, adjusting his position in his chair.
“This is not me scolding you for taking a breath for once. This is me being worried” she makes clear. Poe doesn’t say anything in return, the blank expression over his face attesting of his lack of concentration. Rey bites down onto her bottom lip, pondering what she could do or say to help her friend out. It’s not like Poe to act so closed off, so quiet, like an empty shell. 
“Is that a new jacket?” she asks, hoping to lift the tension.
“No, not mine” he says as he reaches over to the desk to have the piece of clothing in hands again. “It’s from…” he pauses. “The cookies feast this morning, she left and forgot it”
“Oh”
“I gotta find a way to give it back to her.” he declares mechanically before muttering, “But I don’t know where to find her”
“Well,” Rey lightly clears her throat. “With some luck she will notice soon enough and she’ll come back for it” she shrugs.
“It’s been seven hours”
“People that just lost their place are busy trying to sort things out Poe” she shrugs. “It’s winter and she probably doesn’t have much clothing left. She’ll come back for it”
“It might happen when I’m off shift” Poe mumbles absent-mindedly. 
“So what? Just leave it somewhere everyone can find it, another team will give it to her” Poe closes his eyes and shakes his head, sighing in defeat, and Rey scoffs at the obviousness of it all. Poe is smarter than that, he’s a lieutenant for a reason; something’s not right.
“Oh Poe” Rey scoffs, a scoff of disbelief. She stares at him as he rubs a hand over his eyes, then runs it through his hair. “This is what it's all about isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically, as she already knows it is. “My god… You’re into her” she mutters like she doesn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, admitting it like he’s guilty of something shameful or immoral; but it almost is, in this job. This kind of thing is not supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to fall for a victim. It’s supposed to be a come and go without looking back.
“Look, I’m not opposed to you shooting your shot but–” she halts mid-sentence; she tries to find the right words to say the right thing. “Be careful. You know it’s a touchy subject in our jobs” she pinches her lips in a small, slightly skeptic smile. “Overstepping and everything.” she adds.
“I know” Poe blinks, looking down at your jacket. “I’ll sort this out.”
— 
To be fair, he feels stupid for not thinking about the hotel sooner when he was the one to suggest this place for you to stay at. 
The end of a shift has never felt so long; when he usually finds stuff to do to remain occupied when there’s no intervention, today his mind couldn’t stay off of you. A shift with no major intervention was awfully long already, but it seemed to be so much slower as he looked forward to seeing you.
His knuckles hit the surface of your assigned room in a couple knocks, and your confused expression turns to a bright smile when your door opens to him. His face and ears are slightly flushed from the cold, his dark curls coming out of his beanie, nicely framing his face. “I usually go home and catch up on the sleep I didn't get during my shift but it's cold out there and I figured you wouldn't have brought back a lot of clothes here with you, so I think you'd make good use of this” he smiles, presenting to you your own jacket. 
“Oh” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest, staring at your jacket neatly folded in his hands as he hands it to you. “Thank you,” you sigh, feeling stupid that you managed to forget it at the firehouse.
He smiles. “Of course.” There’s a brief pause as you stand there, and you look back inside your room, at the mess of cardboard boxes filled with the life you’re actively trying to piece back together. You want to tell him to get inside, but you also need to work on that mess of belongings. You hesitate, wondering what to say when he speaks first. “You need help with that?” he asks, nodding towards the room.
“Uh, yeah,” you admit, huffing out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. “I took your advice and decided to start over by sorting out and giving away or selling stuff I don’t need anymore but there’s a lot. I never realized how much stuff I had in my possession until now” you chuckle. “But I’ll manage. You don’t have to worry. You’ve had a long shift, you should catch up on your sleep” you grin.
He waves a hand dismissively, smirking. “Oh, I’m fine. We take turns sleeping during the shift. You know, as long as you wake up when the alarm goes off…”
The daunting task seems to get so much quicker and easier now that Poe is here to help. Surprisingly enough, it even gets pleasant as you talk and laugh about anything and everything, as he intently listens to you as you reveal stories about the trinkets you discover again. Poe has this natural ability to make you feel like whatever you’re talking about is the most interesting thing in the world.
After a good hour and a half of reorganizing and labeling boxes of what you’re keeping and what you’re getting rid of, you’re finally done and it’s time for him to go. You can’t ignore the slight feeling of disappointment as you watch him put his jacket back on.
“Hey uh,” he trails off, grabbing his beanie resting on the bed. “Technically I’m off work and you’re not a victim anymore so,” he rubs the back of his neck, his dark curls falling slightly into his eyes as he looks at you with a grin. “Would you like to go for a drink or something sometime that week?” Poe intently awaits your response; maybe he’s making a mistake, maybe he’s overstepping. 
You can’t repress the smile that grows over your face, the feeling of delight that fills you at the prospect of seeing him again. “Sure,” you nod. “I’d love to”
Your heart leaps inside your chest as your hands brush when you hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and he feels just the same when he pushes his apartment door to a text from you that reads, 
“thank you for today. I look forward to seeing you again :)”
He can’t help the foolish smile beaming over his face.
There’s not much left of your belongings after you give them out to charity and after hours spent throughout multiple days waiting for strangers to pick up the different things they bought from you. 
Some part of you assumes that giving up on your life in Chicago would be easier, that moving states and going back to your family would be more reasonable, until you get back onto your feet at least. 
But you hate it, hate the thought of giving it all up just because your stupid space heater short circuited. 
And maybe it's also because something is holding you back.
You’re at work when a text appears onto your phone screen, forcing you to drop everything you’re doing when you see it’s from Poe. Your heart races inside your chest when you open the conversation and read the message. “hey! still on board to hang out?”
Your fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure about which way you should say yes. You settle on “absolutely” and press send.
You try to go back to work while you wait for his response, but the task is compromised because even though you have your ringtone on, you can’t help but check your phone every twenty seconds.
Your phone rings again after what feels like an eternity though in reality, it’s only been two minutes.
“great. I was thinking about going to a bar downtown” 
Another message pops up.
“is it okay if I pick you up at the hotel at 7?”
You take a glance at the time displayed on your computer screen and sigh softly before you reply. “I’m doing extra hours so I get out at 7 :( and I need time to get ready and look somewhat presentable“
Poe’s text comes almost instantly. “hey, no pressure. I’m sure you look just fine”
A foolish smile grows onto your face, and you’re glad he’s not here to see it. 
Another message pops onto the screen.
“I can pick you up at 8 or later if you prefer. or I can pick you up straight out of work at 7 if it makes it easier for you”
You sit and think about it for a moment. It would make it easier for you. You could avoid an extra ride to the hotel.
“I think it does”
You text him the address to your workplace, and the next time you use the office bathroom, you take a moment to make sure you look okay.
The bar is dimly lit by fairy lights strewn all across the ceiling and walls. It casts a soft light over Poe’s face that allows you to admire the faint, dark stubble that is back onto his face again, and you can’t help but look at his teeth when he talks to you; you remember the way they look when he laughs, and the thought makes your stomach flutter and makes you feel like a creep at the same time.
“So, extra hours?” he asks, tearing you out of your reverie before he takes a sip of his half full glass of pina colada. You wince softly. 
“I'm quickly starting to run out of money. You know how insurances are” he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side in agreement. “And I mean, I’m trying to save up because I don’t think I want to go back to my apartment” you explain, an uneasy feeling running through you the moment you start to picture your apartment again, the way it was the last time you had seen it. 
“Yeah, it’s understandable. It’s something we often see.” Poe nods.
“Most people prefer moving out instead of trying to rebuild their home. Too much trauma attached to the place” he affirms, pinching his lips in an empathetic smile.
“Yeah,” you trail off, nervously fiddling with your glass. “And I can’t stay in that hotel room forever. Some friends offered me to stay over at theirs so I’m gonna crash wherever I can until I get back on my feet” 
Poe nods, intently watching you as he swallows another sip of his cocktail before speaking. “Well, you can stay at my place too if you need somewhere to go.” he offers in earnest.
You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Poe it’s– you don’t have to” 
“No, no, it’s alright” he insists. “Plus, my apartment is empty for twenty four hours when I’m on shift, so you can take advantage of that”
“This is very kind of you but–” you pause, not certain what you want to say. “We met what, three weeks ago, and you’re willing to let me stay at your place?”
He shrugs, an amused smile over his face. “You made me cookies. You’re trustworthy”
You laugh wholeheartedly, and the sight brings a wide smile to his face. 
“Okay, well, thank you” you huff out, and he grins before taking a sip of his drink. “I won’t bother you much, I’m working extra hours anyways.” 
“Oh and also, you’ll have to let me cook for you when you’re there” 
He raises his hands in fake surrender, a content expression over his face. “If you insist”
You’ve established some kind of routine based on a rotation; half a week at someone’s place, the other half at someone else’s. That way, weeks seem to go by quite fast.
Being at work is the only sense of normalcy you can find since those past few months; it’s pretty depressing when you think about it, but it might also be a good thing considering how much time you have to spend at the office doing extra hours just to gather enough money to try find that sense of normalcy back in your life.
You sigh softly as you knock at Poe’s door and set down your suitcase of necessities while you wait for him to answer; you’re endlessly thankful for your friends allowing you to leave your boxes of belongings in their home office instead of having to haul them around or pay for storage. 
“Hey you” Poe greets when he opens the door, a dishcloth in hand as he wipes them clean. You smile at the sight of him wearing an olive green apron, and you walk in when he makes way for you to. You look around the wide place that actually resembles a loft, the place dimly lit and filled with the smell of food cooking, and just that scent is enough for you to be striked with a stomach rumble. 
“Smells good” you affirm, forcing a small smile through your tiredness. “I was the one supposed to cook though, remember?”
“It’s your first time at my place, I have to be a good host” he huffs out, hands placed at his hips. “And I wanted to try this new recipe” he declares, motioning for you to follow him.
You follow his steps, acknowledging the space around you. “Actually it's perfect cause I'm exhausted” you admit in a small sigh.
“Good thing I planned on pampering you tonight then” he grins. 
He was in no way lying about that. 
Poe pulls your chair for you like a gentleman and makes you sit down, absolutely refusing you help him set the table or help him in any other way. 
He finally sits down in front of you after serving your plates and pouring you something to drink, wishing you bon appetit before you both start to eat. 
You listen attentively as he tells you about the interventions of his past few shifts, taking your sweet time to savor his dish from how good it is; you wouldn’t have suspected him to be that good of a cook.
Then suddenly, Poe trails off, his face dropping when he sees you're crying. “Hey,” he calls softly, getting up from his seat to join you. “What’s wrong?” he kneels down in front of you, his gaze raking over your face painted in tears.
“This is simultaneously the best and worst I've felt in months” you chuckle through quiet sobs, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “And I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, I have no idea what I should do” you shake your head. Poe watches you intently while you try to avoid looking at him, afraid of what he could think. You’re just the poor girl he saved that lost everything, after all. “Sorry, I don’t know why it’s all coming out now. I’m not even drunk” you apologize, drying your tears with the back of your hand. “And I know some people you rescue have it so much harder than me, but even this, somehow… It feels insurmountable” 
“Hey,” he takes your hand in both of his, stopping you from tearing at the loose seams of your shirt. You feel stupid for breaking down like this in front of him, feel stupid for feeling so lost. “Just because people go through worse doesn’t mean your struggles are not legitimate” he affirms, one of his hands coming to rest over your arm. His other hand soothingly rubs the back of yours, and your tears-filled eyes finally meet his.
“Having to rebuild a life from scratch is a pretty tough thing, but I promise you it eventually gets better” he nods. “And you’re doing great so far. You’re motivated. It's a good thing. There isn't much you can do but wait until it gets better”
His eyes are gentle, his touch soft, and something inside you slowly starts to ease. 
You want to believe it, you want to believe it’s going to get easier, but right now, you can’t seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
“I know. But– I’ve been thinking about leaving Chicago.” you admit in a mutter. It hurts to say it, hurts to picture it, but deep down you know it’s probably the solution and the right decision.
“Oh– okay,” he mumbles softly, his voice dropping slightly. You look him in the eyes, before looking down at your lap again, a weak, saddened smile tugging at your lips.
“What you said about starting over… Maybe this is it. Maybe that’s what I need. There’s not much left here for me” you say, swallowing a sob. 
The urge to burst in tears gets violent again, and just like he can sense it, Poe squeezes your hand and gets you onto your feet so you can crash into him and break into sobs while he wraps his arms around you.
— 
You shift in your sleep and your mind screams at you to wake up; something feels off. The bed is too unfamiliar, too big, too comfortable. 
Because you’ve never been there before. 
It somehow simultaneously takes you ages and no time for you to realize you’re in Poe’s bed. 
You sit up, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, pushing the blanket away. You don’t remember coming to bed.
The last thing you remember is talking and watching a few The Office episodes with Poe on his couch, wrapped in one of his blankets. 
You hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and you push yourself out of bed to go there. The wide space is filled with the smell of coffee and Poe is standing by the stove, flipping pancakes, dressed in the same clothes as last night, just like you are. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and gives you that easy smile that makes your stomach flutter.
“Morning,” he greets you, his voice warm. “Got your beauty sleep?”
You chuckle, rubbing your face. “Yeah, about that, you didn’t have to leave me your bedroom.”
Poe shrugs, turning to flip another pancake. “C’mon, it’s fine. It was part of my plan already anyway.”
You scoff and join him, leaning against the counter beside him. “I was already on the couch, I bet it would have been easier to leave me here than to drag me to your bed”
“You deserved a better night's sleep after the day you had.” he turns the stove off and looks at you. “I carried you out of a building in fire, remember? This was nothing” he smiles softly, handing you the plate of pancakes. You take it, and he gently rests a hand over your shoulder as he walks past you to pour you both a cup of coffee and hand one to you. "Besides, you’ve been through enough. A comfy bed is the least I can do sweetheart”
You take a sip of your coffee, savoring its warmth, but his words cut deeper than they probably should. There’s something so natural about the way he’s taken you into his space, about the way he looks out for you. 
It’s comforting, and maybe that’s what scares you the most. 
You haven’t brought last night’s conversation up again, and neither has he, but you can feel it there between the two of you. 
The possibility of leaving Chicago feels more real every time you think about it, and yet, being here with Poe makes the idea of leaving seem that much harder.
Poe is seated at his desk, locked in onto a pile of paperwork when a soft knock sounds from the doorframe. 
He glances up and it's Snap leaning casually against the door with a mischievous grin. 
"Your girlfriend’s here," Snap mouths teasingly as he points behind him; Poe rolls his eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips.
Snap steps aside, making room for you to enter the room. You flash him a quick, grateful smile before he leaves and before you step inside the office. Poe rises from his seat to greet you with a warm hug, one that feels natural after how close you've grown those past few weeks. The installed routine of crashing at his place every other week has deepened your relationship, turning it into something that feels comfortable, familiar.
“How’s your day going?” you ask, leaning against the wall.
“Busy, but nothing I can’t handle,” Poe replies, shrugging with a grin. “How about you? What brings you here? Missed me?” he grins playfully, and it widens when you huff out a laugh.
“I actually came to tell you some good news.” you take a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. “I got an update about my apartment.”
Poe’s eyebrows lift in curiosity as he steps a little closer. “Oh? What’s going on?”
You can’t help but smile. “Since it’s uninhabitable for now, and because I’m not responsible for the fire, I’m getting my deposit back– and insurance is going to cover a pretty decent amount.”
Poe’s face breaks into a wide grin. “See? I told you so!” he says, his voice full of genuine happiness, as his hand rests lightly over your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. There’s relief in his tone too as things are finally looking up for you.
You pause for a moment  before adding, “So…” you grin, tentatively. “I’ve decided to stay in Chicago.” 
Poe’s eyes light up at the news. “Really?” he asks, his voice a little breathless, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah,” you huff out a small laugh, nodding. “Actually, I came here because I was in the neighborhood looking at an apartment. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s all I can afford right now. And, hey, it’s better than nothing.” you shrug. “And… it’s like a seven-minute walk to the firehouse,” you add with a grin.
Poe smirks, “So, you’re gonna bring me cookies every day?”
“Obviously,” you laugh.
“I’m gonna have to exercise at least twice as much because of you.” he grins, placing a quick affectionate kiss on your cheek. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Thank you, Poe,” you murmur softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything you’ve done for me.”
He hugs you back and holds you tight for a moment longer, the embrace a silent acknowledgment of everything you’ve been through together, how far you've come since you met– this could have happened in a better context but somehow, some part of you is glad it had to be him you stumbled onto.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re strong. You’ve been handling this like a champ.” he nods with a proud smile.
You smile back, still holding onto him. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Poe chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes rake over your face, from your eyes down to your mouth before he stops lingering and pulls away. "Come on," he says, stepping back and motioning for you to follow him. "I’m gonna introduce you to everyone."
The sound of chatter and laughter fills the room where the rest of the crew is gathered. Poe introduces you to his colleagues and friends, and as you chat with everyone, you feel a sense of belonging and acceptance like you’ve known them for ages.
The new year passes around and January takes place quicker than you realize; sleeping on your friends couches is starting to take a toll on your back, so you’re barely able to keep a facade and hide your excitement when you finally get the keys to your apartment and when Poe and your friend Jay haul your brand new sofa bed up the narrow stairwell of the building.
“Where is it going?” Jay asks, short of breath after struggling to angle the piece of furniture to fit your doorframe. 
“Right there,” you point, and your other friends quickly push the cardboard boxes aside to make way for Jay and Poe as they transport and set the sofa down.
It’s the first time in months that things feel real, that you feel like you’re moving forward again. The apartment is small – really small – but it's yours and that fact alone is enough to make you feel relieved.
Your cramped space is a mess of half-unpacked boxes, random piles of bubble wrap, and stacks of furniture pieces waiting to be assembled. 
Your friends each have their own tasks, helping in various ways; Olivia starts assembling your coffee table, grumbling under her breath about missing screws, while Poe puts together your dining table with a look of concentration.
You're tucked away in a corner, hunched over a cardboard box labeled kitchen, sorting through utensils and plates. Your friend Sam joins you, taking out mugs and setting them on the counter beside you. She looks over at Poe, who’s working on screwing a table leg into place with the help of Mike, then she leans in a little closer to you, her voice lowering in that teasing way she does when she’s trying to stir something up.
“Your firefighter boyfriend is cute,” she grins. Your grip instinctively tightens on the pile of plates you’re holding, afraid you’re going to drop it at any moment.
“He's not– we're friends” you scoff, trying to play off though you can’t deny your heart rate going up. 
Sam gives you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows dramatically. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me there isn’t something there. I’ve seen the way you look at each other."
You feel your cheeks heat up instantly, a wave of nervousness rising in your chest even though you can’t really bring yourself to argue. Poe and you– there’s always been something there, you know that, it's painfully obvious. But putting it into words, admitting it out loud? 
"I don’t know," you finally say, your voice quieter now. "I mean, yeah, he’s amazing. I just… it’s complicated. I haven't really had the time to think about it that way” you shrug, taking a glance at him. 
"Look, I’m just saying, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll ask him out." she shrugs nonchalantly though her grin attests of her playful tone.
"Very funny, Sam."
She chuckles as she pats your arm, obviously enjoying your flustered reaction. "Just think about it. You two have that vibe, you know?” she insists, putting away the cardboard box she’s unloading now that it’s empty. “Whenever you're ready to admit it, just know I'm rooting for you."
You roll your eyes, though the smile on your face betrays you. 
You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too deeply about it– about him. It had been much easier to push that aside and focus on practical things, like getting through each day, finding a place to live, and piecing your life back together.
Your apartment empties after getting filled and reaching a state that starts to make it feel like a home; your friends progressively leave until Jay and Sam are the last to, each giving you a hug at the door and congratulating you on the new place.
"You owe us dinner for all this labor," Sam jokes as she steps out, winking at you as she heads down the stairs. You roll your eyes with a smile, watching her go before closing the door behind them.
A small sigh leaves you when you turn back and look around the place that is significantly quieter now. Poe is still sitting on the floor, carefully tightening one last screw to your dining table to make sure it’s secured. “Okay,” he groans softly as he stands up, wiping his hands over his jeans. “Should be good”
“Thank you” you say softly, standing against the counter.
He gives you a modest shrug as he puts the screwdriver down on the table. “It’s nothing.” he smiles, stepping closer until he’s standing beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. 
You both proudly admire the place you have spent the last few hours furnishing – it’s small, but it’s just enough for you alone there, and at least now you won’t have to rely on a space heater to survive Chicago’s cold.
You feel Poe look at you, truly look at you, feel the warmth of his gaze lingering over you. You feel it so clearly that it makes you blatantly aware of how close you are, how intimate it feels to be here, in your apartment, alone with him.
You glance over at him and he smiles, his expression softening as his hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of your hair away from your face; the touch is so tender that it sends a shiver through your spine. “I’m glad you decided to stay.” 
His confession makes your heart flutter, and a tired smile tugs at your lips. “I am too.” you admit, fully turning to him. “And thank you again. Not just for this. For everything”
He shrugs, his face twisting in a grimace. “You’d have managed just fine, even without me”
You tilt your head to the side in disagreement. “I would have been roasted chicken without you, if you remember. So thank you. I mean it” 
He breaks into a laugh, rich and warm, shaking his head. His laughter is so contagious you can’t help the wide smile that grows onto your face. “Okay, maybe I saved you once. But, anytime,” he nods, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "You know that, right?" 
You find yourself nodding, scarily aware of how fast your heart is pumping inside your ribcage. You swallow as his gentle eyes rake over your face, your own gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes. 
“I know,” you whisper, your breath cutting short like you’re out of air. Somehow, all nervousness escapes you when his fingers drift to gently grasp your chin, ever so slightly angling it towards him.
He hesitates for a second, like he’s giving you the option to pull away if you wanted to; you don’t, there’s nothing you’ve been wanting more since you met him.
You lean in, meeting him halfway as his lips press softly against yours, tentatively. Your hands instinctively find their way to rest over his chest, and you sigh into the kiss when you feel the fast beating of his heart under your palm, the comforting warmth of him beneath your fingers. 
It’s not rushed or hurried – it’s like this action is a quiet, mutual acknowledgment of everything that has been left unsaid between the both of you for the past few weeks– hell, months.
The drunken smile over his lips as he pulls away has you going for another kiss; he pulls you even closer, his hands finding your hips, gently resting there. 
His forehead rests against yours when your lips grow apart, your arms wrapping around his neck when he nuzzles your cheek. “I should get going,” he whispers reluctantly, his hands still on your hips.
There’s a moment of silence– You swear you could almost hear the snow falling outside. “Really?” you finally ask, your voice teasing.
“Nah” he murmurs, and you both laugh softly as he pulls you closer, his arms fully wrapping around you.
please note that I'm planning on extending this universe just because I love it so much, I love them so much and I had so much fun writing this, so there will be more stuff linked to this one shot and you can request drabbles, headcanons or whatever you'd like about this AU!
people that wanted to be tagged in this (it was so long ago you probably forgot about this, sorry): @steven-grants-world @faretheeoscar @minigirl87 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spectorslut
@lunar-ghoulie @ineffablewifes @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @thatwonderouswoman
poe dameron taglist:
@lockleysgrl @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings
@mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem  @friedwings
@luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96
@unear7hly @pigeonmama
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nova-is-a-writer-now · 4 months ago
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Hidden Embers
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Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.
Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.
A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)
Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues
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It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.
You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.” 
God forbid. 
Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles. 
You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.
None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?
Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words. 
And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you. 
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You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque. 
Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win. 
At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.
Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.  
"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"
That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him. 
You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.
Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens. 
Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare. 
“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees” 
Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into. 
“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved.  I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. 
The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect. 
That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?
You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.
“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”
“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.” 
It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable. 
Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.
Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill. 
“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone. 
He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.” 
Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong. 
“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts. 
“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.” 
“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.
You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.” 
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You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon. 
First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words. 
He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.
Yeah, I think you might
You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way. 
You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.
She notices as much.  “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?” 
You  brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?” 
She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.” 
The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.
The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump. 
“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down. 
“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow
Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed. 
You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you. 
“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.
The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.” 
You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”
He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”
You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”
He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”
More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.
Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside. 
It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out. 
He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.” 
With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance. 
And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head. 
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dxndjxrin · 3 months ago
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NCT Dream Headcanons: Little/Wordless ways they say "I love you"
I live! It's been forever but I'm trying to get back to just posting little things. Some longer things on ao3 are cooking tho! For now, enjoy some fluff!!
All fluff, just under the cut for organizational purposes <3
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Mark: this is so cheesy but if he’s driving u, he likes to put your seatbelt on for you, and get the door for you, fix that hair that’s out of place, and tie your shoes if they come undone, no matter where you are. It’s just his little way of saying “I’ve got you, I’m keeping you safe, I love doing menial tasks because they’re for you” 
Haechan: whenever he’s at ur place, he checks ur pantry to see if u have all of your fav snacks on hand, will wordlessly refill them at your place AND his place so he always has what you want on hand. Always checks on if you’ve eaten enough and have sunscreen on days out. He can’t have his lovely partner feeling yucky, he simply will not stand for it. He’ll get sassy with you too, but you know he’s right in the end
Jeno: brushing your hair/helping you do your hair. Letting you put stickers on things of his, like his phone case. He likes seeing little reminders of you throughout his day + seeing a representation of how you influence him. He doesn’t care if the boys make fun of him for cutsey stickers, he loves you more.
Renjun: does that thing where he buys u flowers and keeps on for himself so he knows when you need new ones. He just loves doing little things to help you feel comfortable and loved in your space. If he packs your lunch, he sneaks a little love note into it. If he sees a pretty card, he’ll write you a letter just cause. He’s happy to do the big gestures, but finds it important to make sure you know you’re loved every day. 
Jaemin: always has a hand on you, you’re walking up steep stairs? No handrail needed! Use his hand! He just loves touch as a reminder that you’re here for him and he’s here for you. When you first started dating, it took you a while to get used to it, him having his hands on you everywhere and constantly in public, but you’ve grown to be almost proud of it. Not many people could have Na Jaemin so whipped.
Chenle: pampering fr!! Wants you to feel good and relaxed and like there’s never a weight on ur shoulder. Little things that make you feel good: having your nails done, picking up a coffee for you, knowing all the brands of makeup or clothing you use. You’re feeling peckish? He’ll take you out for a WAY too fancy dinner, but he wants to make every day as special as you are to him, so the price is never any trouble. 
Jisung: listens to u talk about the things u love forever and always asks deeply engaging questions. It was like that from day one; Your first date with him was so refreshing since he’d asked you such creative questions to get to know you. Even now, you two entertain each other for hours talking about hypotheticals and silly “would you rather’s” into to early hours of the morning. You think you’d be more tired if his charming giggles weren’t filling your room.
Divider by @cafekitsune
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ettawritesnstudies · 2 years ago
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Etta's Guide to Writeblr (March 2023)
So you fled here from Twitter/TikTok... Where to start?
Welcome to Writeblr! Pull up a chair, open those documents, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite tea, coffee, or cocoa. The first thing you'll want to do is start following other writers. Check out this post for recommendations! Search through the notes to find hundreds more. Since I made that post, a bunch of people mentioned they're lurking and still trying to figure out tumblr, so I thought I'd make this post to help people get settled.
How to set up your blog
Make your blog name something not resembling a pornbot - it can be whatever you want, anything fun goes, just not [name###]. If you include "writer" or "author" somewhere in the url it makes it easier to spot writeblrs at a glance but it's not a requirement
Change your profile to something that's not the default, Make sure you have a blog title, and add a little description in your blog header if you feel like it!
Make a pinned post introducing yourself (pls don't use your real name or any IDing information for privacy's sake, this isn't facebook), a short summary of your WIPs, and links if you have an author's website/newsletter/ao3/etc. You can check my pinned post for an example
Make intro posts for each WIP! You can spruce these up with graphics (canva and unsplash are both great free resources to make edits/moodboards), excerpts, lists of tropes, character intros, etc. Link to the WIP intro in your pinned post so it's easy to find! You can update these as often as needed
If you want to make character intros, go wild. If you can't draw, piccrew is a great option. Just start talking about your WIP!
Come up with a tagging system to keep your blog organized. I recommend individual wip tags or at least one for your original writing in general so it's easy to search for your work on your blog
Keep track of Taglists for your WIPs. Whenever you post a new thing about your story, tag the people who asked to be notified to make sure they see it! Only tag people who ask to join the taglist, but it's a good way to keep track of interest. It's normal to have multiple taglists for each story+ one general writing taglist.
How to make writer friends
Reblog their work and add nice comments, either in the tags, comments, or the reblog itself People notice regulars in their notes and appreciate the attention. I promise it's not weird to compliment a total stranger
If that's too intimidating, community events are your friend!
Weekly Ask Games: These are weekly events that are loosely themed where writers send each other asks about their WIPs! The most common are Storyteller Saturday (about the writing process), Blorbsday (aka Blorbo Thursday about characters), and Worldbuilding Wednesday (about the setting of your story). If you answer these late, nobody really cares, but it's a fun way to receive prompts and learn more about other people's stories.
Ask Games/Memes: These are posts with lists of questions you can reblog from other people, sometimes themed or listed with emojis. It's common courtesy to send an ask from the list to the person you reblog it from, then people can send you questions as well, so you can talk about your stories! You can search for dozens of them
Tag games: There's a ton of different types of tag games, but basically someone @s you with a challenge/question, you reblog with your answer, and then @ a bunch of other people to continue the chain. Some common ones are Heads Up 7s Up (share the last 7 lines of your WIP), Last Line Tag (share the last line you wrote), and Find the Words (ctrl+f the given words in your doc and share the results, then give new words).
Formal events: These are community wide participation challenges organized by certain blogs! @writeblrsummerfest is every July?? August? I think? It's run by @abalonetea a few years strong, and there are daily prompts and ask games! @inklings-challenge is a month-long short story entry for Christian writeblrs. I think there was a valentines event in February. @moon-and-seraph is hosting a pitch week soon! Since these are more organized, it's very easy to find similar blogs and support!
Misc. Notes on using Tumblr
Follow the tags #writeblr and #writeblr community to find other writers, as well as other tags that interest you like #fantasy for example
If you want to bookmark a post to read later, you can like it and/or save it to your drafts
The queue/schedule function is very useful if you want to space out posts or have a backlog to keep your blog running when you get busy. This is good for the community because it gives older posts a chance to be rediscovered! You can change the posting frequency in the settings.
REBLOG YOUR OWN STUFF. People aren't always on at the same times and so it's the best way to account for people with different schedules and timezones. If you're worried about being annoying, you can tag those #self reblog or something similar and other people can filter the tag, but otherwise it's a welcomed and accepted practice.
If your excerpt is pretty long, put it under a cut. On desktop you can do this by selecting the squiggly button on the far right when you make a new paragraph, on mobile type :readmore: then hit enter.
It's polite to add descriptions to images and videos for visually or auditory impaired people. If you don't know how to write descriptions, here's a good resource
In your dashboard settings, it's best to shut off the options "Best Stuff First" and "Based on your Likes". These function as the website algorithm and suppresses the blogs you actually follow, which defeats the purpose of the site, letting the dash be in reverse chronological order. Also turn off Tumblr Live because it's malware as far as anyone's concerned.
Curate your experience, block the trolls, and be nice
Update for March 2024
How to shut off AI Scraping on your blog
Go to settings and find the Visibility tab
Scroll down to the tag that says "Prevent Third-Party Sharing"
Turn that knob over so that Automattic can't steal your work for their language training model databases >_<
The other settings will just hide your blog from search engines so they're useful for hiding from nosy parents or other Tumblr users but if you're trying to build an author platform you can leave them off.
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Again, welcome to the community! I hope you have a ton of fun!
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new-revenant · 2 years ago
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A So Called Tamaranean
Edit: Ao3 Link!
Danny falls through a portal leading to a world full of superheroes. Unfortunately, he happens to bare an uncanny resemblance to a certain race of aliens here-Tamaraneans.
So my post about Danny being mistaken for a Tamaranean is being seen by more and more people, so I’ve decided to finally post this one-shot I’ve made around the time I made the original post. I have no idea if I’ll continue this or not, I kinda just wanted to write about my little idea for a bit and figure out how to write Nightwing. I think he would good with kids. I also only refer to Dick with they/them pronouns because it makes it so much easier to differentiate who’s who when referring to someone.
☁︎
The last thing that Danny remembered was green. Lots and lots of green ectoplasm. And before that? He was trying to escape from one of the many dangers of the Ghost Zone. He couldn’t even see what it was, but he sure as hell could sense it. Both with his ghost sense, and by being beaten up by it.
He never meant to go so far from the portal, so far from his home. And he definitely didn’t mean to get hit right into a different portal.
When he woke up, he couldn’t sense any ectoplasm at all. Death and decay, however, he could sense. And smell. He mostly smelled burnt rock, just like all the other times he got slammed into the ground by ghosts. He really needs to learn how to dodge one day.
His eyes fluttered open, then closed them just as quickly as dust went right into his eyes. He had seen smoke and rock, just like he expected. He groaned, trying to push himself up, but fell in an instant. He was so tired. And yet, he could tell he was still in his ghost form. How could he still be in his ghost form when he had no energy left? He had no idea.
So Danny laid there, trying to think about where he could be and why was he stuck in his ghost form. At least he thought he was stuck in his ghost form as he usually turns back into a human when he passes out.
Then he heard something. Something other then the ringing in his ears. It was a voice, maybe a masculine sounding one, that had an “are you okay?” tone to it. Danny would know because he’d been asked that hundreds of times before whenever he’d gotten injured. Instinctually, he tried to say that he was fine, but all that came out was a whimper.
Then the ringing in his ears got quieter, and he could hear the stranger’s footsteps coming closer.
“Hey kid, are you okay?” Danny could finally make out the person’s words. His eyes fluttered open again, revealing the person to have black hair, a pale face, and what looked to be a long black sleeved shirt with some blue on it, and a domino mask.
Was he in the 18th century again? Wait, had he’d ever been to the 18th century before? Well he couldn’t be now, not with the striking blue the guy had. Pretty sure they didn’t have blue dye like that back then. Oh god where the fuck was he? He had heard from all his ghostly friends-mostly Frostbite and Clockwork-that the Ghost Zone could bleed into other universes and timelines. Danny really hoped that was not the case. Danny had to get up.
He was in so much pain, his entire body stinging. But he pushed himself off the ground anyways, like he always did. When he sat up he saw the stranger stretch out their hand to him. Danny hesitated for a moment, before scrambling away from them because he did not trust them one bit. Well, maybe two bits but nothing more.
He hovered a bit off the ground, a good few feet away from the masked guy. They looked surprised, and looked at him rather analytically. Danny looked back at him analytically as well. The person seemed to wear this one-piece suit with black gloves and boots, with the wings of a blue bird-like symbol on their chest going across his shoulders and extending to their hands. They were lean and muscular and could probably take down many normal humans in a fight. And Danny.
Danny only hoped that this guy wasn’t some sort of weird murder or something. Maybe they were normal for this world’s standards. Maybe he was normal for this world’s standards. Probably not to be honest.
And then Danny was taken out of his questioning by a question posed by the stranger, “Are you a Tamaranean?” they asked. They weren’t speaking English, Danny could tell by the way their mouth didn’t match their words. Hurray for ghost speak.
“May-“ Danny coughed, his throat sore, but it was fine, he’ll get over it, he always does. “Maybe I am, why do you want to know?”
The guy smirked, making Danny feel a bit uneasy, “You did answer my question back in fluent Tamaranean.”
“So I did, again, why. Do. You. Want to know? How do you know about Tamaraneans? Who are you?” Danny was so confused about everything in this situation and he thought he asked decent enough questions. He had no idea what theses “Tamaraneans” were but he’ll play along as long as he won’t get shot.
“I’m called Nightwing,” they said calmly, “And I want to know what you are because I want to help you,” then they took a step forward. Danny was not expecting this and instinctively shot at them with ectoplasm. Danny yelped, both in surprise that he shot at them and at the fact pain almost immediately shot up his left arm. He could almost feel the nerves in his arm burn. That’s not good.
And yet Nightwing dodged it easily, skillfully, and didn’t seem too bothered by it. In fact, they seemed more concerned for Danny’s well being.
“I’m not going to fight you,” they tried to talk to Danny, “And I know how to help you, I’ve met other Tamaraneans, Tamaraneans who have powers like you.”
Okay so these Tamaraneans could also shoot green beams and fly, duly noted. And not all of them had these powers. God this place was weird. Danny couldn’t care about how weird he was or how weird his world was, but this place just felt weirder.
“You have?” Danny asked in a whisper to put less strain on his throat, floating down to the ground, holding his arm. “Who?”
“Starfire and Blackfire for one, those two have powers,” Danny noticed them happily say Starfire’s name and the tone of distaste they had for Blackfire. So Danny had an idea for which of the two was probably evil. Not really because the guy he was speaking to could still be evil and not to be trusted.
Nightwing then started to list more names of Tamaraneans, which Danny tried to pay attention to so he could give a good enough fake name to them.
“So kid, again, I just want to help you,” Nightwing bent down to one knee, like every non-teacher adult does when they want to talk to a small kid. “I may not know exactly what happened to you, but you don’t have to be alone.”
Danny didn’t expect to feel so...touched. Maybe this guy wasn’t too bad. Maybe he should just tell the guy what he was-actually that could still be a bad idea. Danny didn’t know if they would just flip like a dime and turn around and try to rip him apart. Molecule by molecule.
“What’s your name?” Nightwing asked. Their voice and face was soft, Danny noticed, but their body seemed alert, just ever so slightly tensed, ready for combat on a moment’s notice.
“My name…” Danny mumbled, looking away from Nightwing to think. In a moment of panic and many racing thoughts, he was able to think of something.
“Nightgale,” Danny said, a mirage of a smile on his face, “A bit like your name, isn’t it?” He was somehow able to remember that his last name used to be Fentonnightingale earlier in his family line, and got the name ‘Nightgale’ from it. Thank you infini-map.
“Yeah it does!” Nightwing laughed, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Nightgale.”
Danny really should’ve expected them to stretch out their hand again. He really should’ve been a bit less on edge then he was at that moment. And yet he shot Nightwing in the face when they tried to outstretch their hand.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to-oh no no no no,” Danny panicked, looking around to see where he could escape to and he was in a goddamn field with a city surrounding the entirety of the park. Danny just now realized that he had absolutely no idea where he was. He just shot his only hope at figuring out how to get home-probably, knowing his luck, definitely.
And yet Nightwing practically brushed it off. Yeah they stood up, stumbled backwards, swore in pain, and had to remove their mask for a quick second to rub their eyes, but then blinked a few times and seemed okay.
“Well that wasn’t as bad as when the other two did that,” Nightwing muttered in English, “Did the other two do that? Yeah probably. Anyways” -Nightwing switched back to speaking in Tamaranean- “It’s fine kid, you can calm down.”
So Danny did calm down. Mostly. Not really as he was still muttering apologies. His arm hurt even more now.
“I can ask Starfire to teach you how to control your powers,” Nightwing started. Danny has heard this spiel before, but this time he actually had a bit more trust in this random, and honestly somewhat terrifying stranger than he had with Plasmius. And Danny did not want to wait through it.
Danny grabbed Nightwing’s hand and looked up at them with the most pleading eyes he could muster. It worked as Nightwing’s face softened and they had finally shut up.
“Okay Nightgale, we’re going to go somewhere safe, then I’m going to get Starfire over to help you out, does that sound good?” When Nightwing asked that, Danny didn’t felt like he was being talked down to, unlike when other people said similar things. Maybe it was their tone.
“Where are we going? Where are we now?”
“Oh, right, I probably should’ve said that earlier. Well, for one we’re on the planet Earth, and right now we’re in Blüdhaven, New Jersey, the town I protect.”
“Protect?”
“Yeah, I’m a vigilante, which basically means I fight crime and protecting people who can’t protect themselves.”
Ah, now things started to make sense. This guy is a superhero. No wonder Danny felt oddly safe being with Nightwing. They just radiated safety-ness. Danny’s eyes lit up with glee, someone he could finally related to!
Even while slinking into the dirty, bloodstained shadows of Blüdhaven, Danny was skipping around Nightwing. He was in a weird place and situation, but he felt like a giddy kid. Nightwing moved with precision and grace that Danny wished he had.
Danny saw billboards and signs that seemed to mention other heroes as the two went. Random people calling out to Nightwing when they saw them, Nightwing sometimes giving them a little wave. Danny mimicked them, and each time the people gasped at him. Danny was able to pick up that these Tamaraneans that Nightwing thought he was weren’t common, so that’s probably why they looked so shocked.
It was nice, and for a moment, Danny forgot that he was a stranger to this world-that he wasn’t supposed to be here. This place was new and exciting, yet familiar all the same. Maybe he’ll stay a little longer, it’s not like he could just will himself to leave anyways.
For now, Danny was just a kid, exploring a world similar to his own, yet alien at the same time.
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antimony-medusa · 7 months ago
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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.
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That brings you to every collection you have ever made, and you go to to the right and click "New collection".
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Now we get into the nitty-gritty.
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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.
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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.
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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).
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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).
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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?
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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.
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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.
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They will hurry over to press that button, and then they will see a page that looks like this.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?"
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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".
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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.
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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".
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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.
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theglamorousferal · 1 year ago
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The Cryptid of Smallville
I am posting the first couple chapters of the fic that I am currently working on juuuust in case AO3 goes down again. In the next couple days I’ll start posting some of my wips that I don’t think I’ll finish. If any of them inspire people to write more then I’ll be happy. 
I had the thought a while ago about what if Danny was raised alongside Clark Kent and the hijinks that would result in Danny being near the liminal space that is cornfields. These are basically a series of connected one-shots because I am not that great at trying to do a real plot lol
Without further ado, here’s the first chapter of the Cryptid of Smallville! (Small edit: here’s the link to AO3 the first two chapters are there)
______________________________________________________________ The night sky was clear and open above the cornfields as a gentle breeze caused the plants to stir. It was a calm night on the Kent family farm. A streak of neon green broke across the sky and landed in the middle of the fields, purple tinged smoke wafting from the crash site. A boy of about six rolled over in his sleep, glowing green eyes glancing at the stars above framed by smoke. The gentle breeze is still blowing, returning the night to calm.
*****
Danny was gonna put Clockwork in soup time whenever he got back into the Zone. 
He was laying there, staring at the clouds in the sky, surrounded by corn, and only about three and a half feet tall, wondering where in the Realms he was. Clockwork had said something about sending him off somewhere with people who could handle a child with powers growing up before tossing him through a portal by the ankle. He had ended up in low orbit and was lulled to sleep by staring at the stars he is so fond of.
Crawling out of the hole he was in, he examined the surrounding area and just found a bunch of burnt and slightly smoldering corn and kicked up dirt. The gentle breeze brought the smell of bacon to his nose and he floated to look just above the tall plants around him. He spots a house in the distance and starts heading there, making sure to walk the last few yards just in case this isn’t where CW intended him to go. He finds himself stumbling from the field just to make eye contact with a man pulling on his work boots for the day on the porch steps, the man freezes. 
“Hey Martha?” The man yells into the house.
“Yes Jon?” a voice muffled from the door yells back.
“Do we have a spare room done up?” the man, Jon, asks, not taking his eyes off Danny.
“Why? Are you expecting someone and forgot to tell me?” the voice sounds like it’s getting closer to the door.
“No honey, I think we may have a repeat situation of Clark though.” He briefly glances from Danny up to the last bits of smoke wafting from the field. A quiet “What?” comes from the house. He gentles his voice, full attention on Danny. “Hey son, did you have a bit of an accidental landing in the corn? Is your head okay? Are your parents around?”
Danny stays still for a moment thinking about what’s going on. The man seems to at least suspect that he crash landed on his property and mentioned something about something like this happening before. Have these people dealt with a random child appearing at their house before? Specifically one that crashed from the sky? He has many questions, but he should probably answer Jon first. 
“Yeah, I got sent away until I was better, my head doesn’t hurt at all and my parents are not exactly from around here, and don’t know where I am.” He pauses thinking about it. “Does the children-crashing-onto-your-farm-thing happen a lot to you?”
Jon chuckled as he finished tying his boots up and walked down the stairs just as the door opens and a woman in an apron is standing there looking surprised to see an unknown child standing in her yard. The man crouches down in front of Danny, giving him a once-over. 
“You’d be surprised, now what’s your name son?.”
“It’s Danny Fenton, what’s yours?”
“Jon Kent, my wife over there is Martha. Now you look like you could use a good meal and a washup, how’s that sound?” Jon grins at Danny and musses up his hair before standing and offering a hand to walk into the house. He smiles over at Martha who blinks and then gives Danny a warm smile, standing aside to let them enter the house.
“Good thing I made some extra breakfast then, let’s get some food in you young man, you’re as skinny as a post!” She smiles and heads towards the kitchen. “Be sure to wash up your hands first hun, can’t eat with dirty hands! And Jon! What have I told you about your muck boots being in the house! I’m sure Danny can find his way and wash his own hands; second door on the right hun; and git outta my house with those things on, I’ll have more coffee ready for you once you feed the animals!” Jon pouted and trudged his way out of the house.
Danny smiled a little to himself as he looked for the door Martha was talking about, noting the wallpaper and decor that looked like every midwest farmer’s house he’d seen in any piece of media ever. After washing his hands he made his way to where he could hear soft humming and dishes being washed. He saw a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table next to a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and a container of syrup and headed to the spot.
“Thank you Mrs. Kent.” he said from his seat and she smiled back at him, going back to the dishes. Danny realized he’d probably have to start explaining what he could to them soon, but decided to focus on the breakfast in front of him. The breakfast that wasn’t alive and currently trying to kill him. He nearly cried.
“So Danny,” Martha began as she wiped her hands off with a dish rag. “Do you remember how it is you got here?” She joined him at the table with a cup of coffee after setting a mug, a spoon and the sugar bowl next to the machine for her husband when he came in.
“I do, it’s a really weird story though, I’m not sure you’ll believe me.” He was hesitant, he still wasn’t sure these were the people that Clockwork meant to send him to. Though they’ve taken the whole crash-landed-child-thing pretty well… Screw it, he’ll see if he can wait until Jon comes back and explain to both of them. “Can we wait for Mr. Kent too? I don’t really want to say it twice.” 
She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee and then nodded. “That’s fine hun, he shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes unless the rooster decided to pick a fight again.” she chuckled to herself, looking out of the window while drinking her coffee. She sees the faint trail of smoke rising in the sky outside and her eyebrows pinch in worry. “You didn’t happen to see anythin’ burning when you got up, did you?” 
Danny glances out the window and sees the smoke. “Oh no, there was just a little bit still smoldering in the hole, but there wasn’t anything actively burning. I can show you both when I finish explaining what I can.” The slapping of a screen door startles him and Jon walks in, heading straight for the coffee maker and making himself a cup, then joining them at the table.
“So Danny-boy, what can you tell us?” Jon gives his full attention to Danny. 
Danny shifts in his seat, looking every part the six year old he appeared to be, uncertain at the attention of two adults. “Well, it’s a long story and kinda out there? I’m not sure how much you’ll believe?” He looks uncertain at the pair across from him who share a look. Martha reaches across the table to take Danny’s hand.
“Honey, you wouldn’t believe the stuff we’re used to, I’m sure it’s fine.”
Danny only hesitated a moment longer and then sighed looking far older than his apparent six years. “So to start off with, wherever this is, I’m not from around here. I’m assuming since you both speak English that this is still Earth, but maybe not MY Earth, I’m still a bit confused on the whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but either way, I got sent here until some stuff got sorted out and so I’ll be here until it does.” He was rambling, he knew, but he’s kind of anxious about stuff. “I kinda got put in my childhood body and now I have to get back to my actual age and my Guardian said something about time here running differently than in my dimension before he just chucked me through a portal. He did say he was sending me to people who could handle my weirdness as I age, so I’m assuming you are them and maybe have some experience with kids with freaky weird stuff happening to them?”
The Kents once more shared a look, this one a little longer than the last, then turned back to Danny. “Oh son, I think you’ll fit in just fine. So, how long can we expect you for? I can tell you’re probably a lot older than six judging by how you talk?”
Danny blinked at him, trying to process the fact that they didn’t seem phased and rather seemed like they believed him. “Uh, I was sixteen, so I guess a decade? I’m sorry to impose on you for a while, really I can figure out stuff on my own, I don’t want to be a bother.”
Jon chuckled “Oh trust me son, it wouldn’t be an issue, I’m sure Clark would love a younger brother, or at the very least a friend who understands him. We have plenty of room here, and though we’d probably ask you for help with chores, we’d be glad to have you for however long you need.”
Danny blinks again at them. They weren’t serious, right? They just seem fine taking in a random child and having him live with them for however long. And who was this Clark? What did he mean by younger brother?
“Clark?” he asked hesitantly.
“Oh right, our son, you’ll meet him when he gets home from school, I’m sure you’ll get along just fine! Now Danny, let me show you to a room and we can get you settled, we’ll probably have to head on over to the thrift shop to get you something to wear besides these charred and muddy pj’s, but we should have something from Clark that’s too small that’ll fit you for now.” Martha took his hand and led him upstairs to where he’d be in apparently his new home.
*****
Clark had had a pretty boring day at school. The classes were boring. He had to hold back in gym class again and when studying the skeletal system in biology, he started studying the teacher’s bones instead of the display skeleton or the worksheet. He was really looking forward to getting home and maybe going for a fly around the fields where no one could see him or maybe catching the latest episode of Rescue Rangers. 
He could spot his house in the distance and after looking around to make sure no one would see him, he sped down the driveway as fast as he could, knocking up a lot of dirt in the process. He really liked going fast, whether running or flying. He just loved the wind in his hair. 
“Ma, Pa, I’m home.” he kicked his sneakers off and rushed upstairs into his room to drop off his bag. He listened around for heartbeats and realized that Pa was out on the tractor and Ma was out with the chickens. He froze as he heard a much closer sound though. It was very slow and faint, but he could hear another heartbeat in the house. Even more, he could hear someone muttering to themselves in the guest room and the flipping of pages.
Clark slowly made his way down the hall towards the sound and peaked in the room with his x-ray vision. There, sitting on the ceiling, was a child about half his age reading a ratty old book about space. Clark stood in the doorway, now able to see him in regular vision and just stared at him. He took a moment until he decided to just join him up there and sat across from him.
“So who are you?” Clark asked while the kid was still focused on his book. He didn’t even look up from the book.
“Name’s Danny.” The kid paused for a second before he looked up and stared at Clark. Danny looked from Clark to the ceiling, to the floor, and then back to Clark. “Oh, so that’s why they said I’d fit right in here. I guess we are pretty similar! I’m guessing you’re Clark then?” The child beamed at him, putting out his hand to shake. Clark took it gently, not wanting to hurt the kid. Then the kid gripped his hand tight and Clark realized that they have more in common than he thought and gripped his hand tighter in response.
“So where are you from?” Clark asked, very curious as to how this kid who could fly and had his strength, but also had almost no heartbeat ended up at his house. Danny rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, I’m not from this Earth and I kinda got put here to recover for a long while and my Guardian decided your parents are the best equipped to handle a kid growing up with powers, so he sent me here. I’m guessing because of you?” 
“Yeah, mine started manifesting around your age. What powers do you have? How long do you plan to be here? Where are you from? You said this wasn’t your Earth, I’m guessing you’re from a different dimension then? That’s so cool!” Clark, ever curious, shot off many questions rapid fire and Danny laughed while answering them all as best he could.
Part 2
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sometimes-i-write-good · 2 years ago
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Abs Sans Brain
Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!pilotreader [no use of y/n]
2.6k || Your date with Jake at the Hard Deck is crashed by the rest of the squad.
==== Genre: Fluffy, flirty, and funky
CW: Swearing, drinking
Author’s Note: I’m writing this before I start writing the fic itself. I’m shooting for 600 - 800 words. Please laugh at me when we see how wrong I end up being. Oh, and the reader is best friends with Bob because I said so. || cross-posted on ao3
===
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===
There were very few things you had asked for in life. Good health, good people, and the entire sky at your disposal. A small list, if a bit demanding. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d asked for the Heavens was all those who came with it. In particular, Jake Seresin, who slid into the booth across from you. Beers in hand, grin in place.
“Come here often, doll?”
You roll your eyes at him. A movement that does little to hide the smile blooming across your lips. “I can’t believe I ever let that line work on me.”
“In your defense,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer. “The first time I used that line, we were thousands of feet in the sky. It’s where I’m at my most irresistible.”
“Ah, yes. That must have been it. Everywhere else you’re just insufferable.” You laughed and took a significantly smaller sip of your beer. It’s your second one in ten minutes. “If I didn’t know you any better, Seresin, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk here.”
“Tryin’?” he scoffed, “and you say you know me.”
The unfortunate thing about this whole situation was that you did know Jake. You knew him well, better than Coyote. You knew his favorite color was yellow. That’s why it had been put in his helmet. (He’d also left off the ‘a’ in his helmet because the idea of filling it in to say ‘Hungman’ fit his sixth grade sense of humor). You knew he over-exaggerated his southern drawl whenever you walked into a room because you’d once drunkenly admitted to him that hearing him talk flooded your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew Jake’s mind was fifty percent dirty thoughts, twenty-five percent sky, twenty percent you, five percent ways to school you at cards and five percent cheeky comebacks he was sitting on to annoy the rest of the squad with. And, most disheartening of all, you knew Jake was not a romantic.
It didn’t bother him that date night was a few beers, fried food, and a game of pool. It didn’t bother you either. Not entirely, but you were hoping for one night where you could dress up nice and go out somewhere fancy. Somewhere along the lines of joining the military and ending up at TOPGUN the line of being feminine had been blurred. Commanders couldn’t understand why you’d want to put on a bit of mascara to fly a plane. In the same stretch of imagination, Hangman seemingly couldn’t put it together that you’d like a bit of romance in your life beyond the cheesy pickup lines and pet names.
If you could add anything to your list of ‘good health, good people, and the entire sky’ it would be a few nice dates. You’d say nothing fancy, but you wouldn’t mean it. You wanted fancy. Even if it was just to realize that fancy is actually not what you wanted at all. Something to change up the pace of playing pool with Jake and being hit on by him like you were his latest conquest and not his girlfriend of six months.
Part of you felt like you were being slightly unfair.
“Your turn, doll,” Jake said, but when you went to pass in front of him he grabbed you by your belt loop. He pulled you back towards him, matching your laugh, and captured your lips with his.
Moments like these almost had you convinced that maybe you could push those selfish date ideas off to the side. Jake liked showing off. He liked being able to flirt with you in a place where you could laugh loudly and no one would look at you weird. He liked being able to slip out the back door to walk down the beach with you under the stars.
“If it’s my turn,” you said between kisses, “then let me shoot the ball.”
Reluctantly, he let go of your waist and you positioned yourself to sink yet another ball into the pocket. You planned to kick his ass in an embarrassingly short amount of time to get the pettiness out of your system, then enjoy your night together.
Except for the fact that the front bell chimed, and familiar shouts filled the bar. Familiar because you’d heard them less than an hour ago. You considered altering your list once more. ‘Good people who knew when not to come get a drink.’
“Hangman!” Payback shouted across the bar. “Rack ‘em up. Rooster was just telling me how the two of you ended in a tie game last week.”
Jake’s laughter filled your ears. He still had a hand on the small of your back, but his attention was entirely on your group of friends trailing through the door. “Chicken doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. I smoked his ass.”
“I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is, Seresin. Unless you’re still broke from the last time I kicked your ass.”
Rooster headed over to the pool table followed closely by Fanboy and Coyote. Payback, scribbling in a notebook, hung back for a moment. Then opened his mouth to edge the tension on a bit more. You knew your date night had been pushed aside, so you took it upon yourself to step off to the side yourself.
Phoenix smiled at you, waving, and tilted her head. “I thought you guys were on a date?” She asked. You shot her a look that said ‘We’ll talk later.’ Natasha let out a laugh. “Sorry. Look, I’ll get you something strong to drink.”
“Make it a double!” You called out after her as she made her way over to the bar where she’d be trapped by millions of questions from Penny. The sound of your name, your government name, being called by a certain southern drawl caught your attention. “Yes, love?” You asked, hoping that your boyfriend was about to make an unexpected promise that the two of you could leave after one game.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Jake nudged you softly with his shoulder then threw his head over in Bradley’s direction. “We can always just ask the peanut squad to leave. The small man will only get so much smaller when I whoop his ass for the hundredth time”
Rooster stiffens, almost to attention. He holds the pool cue next to him. Straight and tall. “I’m taller than you are, Bagman.”
It had become a trend of sorts to refer to Jake with various insults that fell so effortlessly from Bob’s mouth. You had tried your hardest to resist, out of solidarity for your boyfriend, some of the nicknames were too creative to avoid… and it gave you an excuse to make Jake try and draw his true name from your lips.
“I wasn’t referring to that kind of height, Chick.”
“C’mon, Jake,” you whine, “can you please just be the polite Jake I know you to be?”
“Oxymoron!” Rooster calls from across the pool table to which Jake whirls around and says, “What the fuck did you just call me?”
You shoot a glare in Bradley’s direction. “Seriously?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Payback pulling that same little notebook out of his pocket to make a mark. You turn on him. “And what the hell are you doing?”
He turns the page towards you. On it in crude, unintelligible handwriting is what you can only assume to be two columns labeled “Hangman” and “Rooster” with a series of ticks beneath them. Jake in the lead by a long shot. “I like to keep track.”
In the corner, you noticed when you squinted to read the handwriting, was a third little box. Completely full of ticks. “Who is that?”
“Bob,” Payback said at the same time Bob said, “Mine.”
You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Jake. “Can I talk to you?”
Your tone is enough to etch worry on his face. He set his pool cue against the table, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you off to the side. “What’s wrong, doll?”
“This isn’t a date.” The whiny lit to your voice didn’t make you feel the most sexy, but you’d tried seducing Jake to go to a movie so the two of you could make out in the dark instead and that hadn’t worked. Pouting was your last resort. “Every time we go on a date, they show up. They’re like fleas!”
“At least fleas can do tricks.” Jake turned to look over his shoulder. “Rooster can’t even hit a ball straight.”
“Jake, I’m being serious. Why won’t you just take me on a date? A real one.”
“Look, pretty girl, I’ll make a deal with you.”
You side-eyed him, unconvinced, and sighed. “Lucky me.”
“Play me in darts. I win, we stay and hang out with everyone. Lord knows Rooster and Phoenix need to be humbled in pool. Plus, you’re the only one here who can get Bob to do enough shots to start doing karaoke.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I know how much you love his drunk renditions of ‘Sweet Caroline.’”
Jake had a point. There had been one night - shockingly, another date night at the Hard Deck turned into a group activity - where you went to sulk in a booth while your schmooze of a boyfriend fueled his bromance with Coyote, Rooster, and Payback. Bob, still not the biggest partier, had grown tired of the swapping insults over darts and was worn out from dodging Phoenix and Fanboy’s attempts to get him to dance with them. So he’d ended up in the booth across from you.
You’d been pounding back shots of tequila like they were water. “He’s stupid,” you had slurred to Bob, “but you’re not stupid. You’re fun. Here, do a shot with me. Let’s be fun.”
He would tell you the next day that he had only intended to do one shot but one turned into two which turned into four which turned into Bob unplugging the jukebox to sing a melody of songs from your Grandma’s playlist with impressive range. After each one he would make sure to point you out of the gathering crowd of dazzled patrons. “This one’s for her!” He’d shout in dedication and start up singing again.
It hadn’t been a bad night then, and, even though you’d never admit it to Jake, you had a lot of fun. Tonight would be the same if you could let yourself stop moping long enough to enjoy it. But there was still the matter of:
“What if I win?” You ask. Competition was the reason you were here on the West Coast to begin with. You were the best of the best because you refused to let anyone else get the upper hand on you. “What do I get then, Seresin?”
“If you win,” Jake said, slowly kneading your hips with his hands. “I will take you out on another date - a fancy one. With roses and the opening of doors and the biggest bottle of wine this nice restaurant downtown has to offer. I’ll dress up and give you the most romantic night of your life. But tonight we’ll stay here and do everything we’d do anyway if I had win.”
“If I win.”
“If you win… but you won’t.”
He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He threw darts the same way he flew planes: with deadly precision. There was a reason Hangman was the only one out of everyone in their generation with two confirmed kills. He could land a shot with his eyes closed. In the air and with two feet planted firmly on the hardwood floors of the Hard Deck.
“That’s not fair at all.”
“I don’t make the rules, sweet thing.” That stupid smirk was back on his face. The two of you hadn’t made it back to your booth yet for appetizers, otherwise there’d surely be a toothpick rolling between those lips of his too.  “C’mon, we’ll make it easy. Three darts each. Most points win.”
“That’s not how you play darts, Jake. Even I know that.”
“Bagman,” Payback called out, “what are you doing, the balls are racked?”
You went to grab the darts from the board as Jake said, “Kicking my girl’s ass in darts as a warm up for kicking your sorry asses in every game after.”
“Ladies first,” you gestured, mimicking his smug smirk. He glared playfully at you but stepped up to throw the first dart in a movement almost too quick for you to see. A perfect bullseye. “Show off.”
“Got to put some skin in the game.” Jake moved you in front of him. His hands gripping your waist to hold you in place as he pressed kisses to your neck. “I like your skin better, darlin’.”
You shooed him away. The dart felt heavy in your hand. Screwing this up would essentially be throwing away your only sure shot at the date of your dreams. You lifted your arm and threw the dart. It flew, fitting itself snugly into the single bull.
Jake’s turn. He moved just as quickly as the first time, but the angle he shot at landed the dart in a single scoring 18. Winning was still well within your grasp. A decent date was inching closer and closer.
Your turn. A deep steady breath. This dart felt weightless. An extension of yourself. You throw the dart in a less fluid motion than Jake, but manage to stick it in the bullseye right next to his.
“Look at that!” You shouted, pointing and jumping. Joy overwhelmed you not just because you were currently winning, but because this had been the first bullseye you’d made without Jake helping you in the slightest. He’d likely still claim this victory as his. It was his silly deal that made you so determined in the first place.
Jake’s final turn. He still had the chance to put you in the dust. Your eyes were glued to the board, but the dart never came. When you turned to look at him, Jake threw the dart at the ground. “You win,” he said, but you shook your head. Eyes back to the board. You won even without throwing this last dart.
You snapped your head in his direction, ready to call him out for cheating, but you were cut off by Jake’s lips crashing onto yours. He pulled away quickly, muttered a small, “You really think I’d deny you anything, doll?” then rushed off to join the restless group at the pool table. Leaving you to glance from the stray dart stuck in the floor and the man you were beginning to fall for at the pool table.
Phoenix saddled up next to you, drink in hand, and passed one over to you. “What did he promise you if you won?”
“A real date.”
“The fancy one with all that inspiration you’ve been sending me on Pintrest.”
“That’s the one.”
She let out a low whistle. “Wow, and I thought he loved you just by the way he looked at you, but this is something else. He’s smitten.”
“I guess I have that effect on some people,” you said and hid your giddy grin with a sip of your drink. “Did you ask Penny to get the tequila shots ready?”
“The real question is if we’re ready to hear Bob signing.”
This might just be one of your favorite dates yet.
===
oneshot taglist: 
@rosiahills22 @pono-pura-vida @gizmodear​
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Note
I saw your hc post with Nathan with a feminine s/o and the part where he liked listening to her talk and that got me thinking about this. He would love it if his s/o played piano. Like, he puts a piano in places like the living room and his office just so when he's there he can listen to them play. Sh maybe you could make a small hc post based on that idea
Ahh, I love this! Sorry it took me so long to post!
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Nathan Bateman GN!Reader • Rating: T•Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •
Warnings: Soft!Nathan , swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 455
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Oh my gosh, literally pianos everywhere. You have to tell him to calm the fuck down. 
“Do you want a new piano?” “No, you bought me five already.” “Do you need one in a different colour?” “No.” “What about another grand piano for the-” “Nathan.” 
Doesn’t pester you to play for him, but is very happy whenever you play. Even if you’re trying out a new piece and feel like you're constantly messing up, he’s just 100% heart eyes at all times.
Will, however, act like he isn’t if you call him on it. 
If you’re playing and it isn’t within his earshot you’re gonna get a series of, ‘why aren’t you playing near me so I can listen?’ type messages.
You end up just practising near him so he doesn’t complain. 
You call him a baby (affectionate) about it. 
He says he isn’t and sulks for 3 hours. 
When you find him you show him a little song you’ve written for him. 
He gets a little over emotional that you made something for him. And tries to hide it. (He does a bad job.)
Asks you to teach him how to play.
He understands the theory really well, but gets annoyed when he can’t play perfectly after 30 seconds. 
“You’re really good Nathan!”
“I’m shit.”
“You can’t expect to play it perfectly the first time.”
“Why?”
You roll your eyes. “Because you have to learn the muscle memory, you couldn’t box amazingly the first time you tried could you?” 
“I could.” 
“Fuck off.” 
You give him little lessons every day, which he adores. He progresses well, he’s obviously trying really hard, but after a couple of weeks, you realise he’s doing it more to spend time with you and to share in something you enjoy than to become a master at it. (Which surprises you.) 
He likes calling you ‘bossy’ when you tell him to practise or play something. This morphs a little and sticks into a nickname, ‘boss’. 
Whenever he’s on a conference call and someone asks him to do something he doesn’t want to, instead of saying a flat ‘no.’ he just starts shrugging and saying ‘you better ask the boss.’ 
He does not explain this to anyone, causing a lot of confusion (which he loves). 
No one has any idea that you’re ‘the boss’ until a rare in-person event when Nathan isn’t being his hermit self and he refers to you by the nickname in front of a couple of staff. 
What you expect to be the end of the joke turns into people asking and emailing you for permission and sign offs. (And to get Nathan to do things.) 
Nathan finds this all hilarious and will not correct the situation.
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Thank you for reading!
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boolger · 7 months ago
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So long as I'm your favorite toy ☆ COD fanfic
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Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. The title is from Jazmin Bean's song favorite toy.
☆fem!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley ☆ explicit. MDNI ☆ 1,655 words
☆summary: There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did. You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.
☆tags: dead dove do not eat, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, stalker!Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Alternative universe, serialkiller!Simon 'Ghost' Riley or well its hinted at, BAD bdsm etiquette, bdsm, humiliation, degredation, verbal humiliation and abuse, non-con elements, squirting, car sex, semipublic, rough.
☆☆MDNI☆ Dead dove do not eat☆MDNI☆☆
extra warnings / note: This is just straight up an abusive relationship. Reach out for help at the proper resources in your country if you’re in one of these and maybe don’t read this fic. Simon doesn’t r*pe but reader does acknowledge that he probably wouldn’t stop if she asked him to. Also this is not proper and safe BDSM. Bdsm shouldn’t be like this, even if it’s cnc or free use. If you use your safeword, that should be respected and acted on. It is hinted that Simon is a serial killer, but he doesn't actually kill anyone, only mentions it.
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There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did.
You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.
He said it was bdsm and to a certain point you agreed. But in proper bdsm both parties respected each other, even when there was degradation involved. No matter how rude one was to the other, in a healthy bdsm relationship there would still be respect, there would still be the knowledge, respect and acceptance that if one party said stop the other would do so immediately.
… you weren’t so sure that Simon would.
Sure, you had a CNC kink, but even when that was practiced, a safeword was in place - and technically you had a safeword, but you doubted Simon would actually stop.
It was a dangerous game. Toxic. Unhealthy. You should really stop, really get out of whatever it was that you had going with him.
Yet, here you were, together with him. Again. He had texted you and you had come running like a desperate, shaking puppy, craving attention, even if it was technically the wrong kind.
Like a toy, ready to be played with.
“Fuck,” he snarled in your ear, “you’re such a fucking whore, yet your pussy is so tight all the time.”
A whimper left you, your eyes fluttering shut as you shook, his cock ruthlessly trying to bully its way deeper into your poor shaking body.
Sometimes, sometimes , he was nice afterwards, after fucking you, after using you however he wanted. His fingers running along your abused skin, littering it with kisses, muttering about keeping you for himself. His own little whore, pretty girlfriend in his house, his wife waiting for him when he got home, homemade food ready for him.
You knew he didn’t mean it. Or at least, you hoped he didn’t. The two of you never talked about it afterwards, he never mentioned wanting something else than the whole fuckbuddies thing you got on. You didn’t even know where he lived, if he actually had a house, hell, you didn’t even know what he did for a living. For all you knew, he could be a monster or a CEO, a cashier behind the counter in a supermarket or a handyman. You had no idea. You tried not to care. It wasn’t like he asked about you either… though he sometimes just seemed to know a little too much. Or he at least hinted at know.
The way it squelched as he fucked you made you dizzy, you body already hurting from the position you were in. You were in his car in the backseat, trying to pretend that you weren’t afraid you were going to get caught, your knees over his shoulders, you body bent in half, thighs almost touching your chest. You were crying - you didn’t know when you started doing so, but you couldn’t stop. Besides, Simon didn’t mind it. He just fucked you harder, making the entire car rock to his thrusts, even leaning down to lick off your tears, calling you needy, pathetic, a whore.
You had already come twice. Maybe that was why you always came back, the orgasms were fantastic and plenty. Simon might be a mean bastard but he always made you come at least 3 times every time you saw him.
“Fuuuuuuck, princess,” he moaned, one hand on your neck, squeezing a bit while the other was on the car door, giving him something to hold onto, “you’re so fucking wet - gonna squirt, huh? Squirt all over my fucking car seats? Make it - fuck - make it dirty and all wet, huh?”
You sobbed, trying to shake you head. “No no no pleased down, Simon it’ll - fuck - ah ah ah—“
“Fucking whore,” he continued, “I’ll have to get ir cleaned then, won’t I? Tell the staff how it got so dirty?”
You sobbed, only moans and wails interrupting them. You didn’t want to squirt, he would never let you hear the end of it, you already knew.
“C’mon then, lass,” he moaned, his cock hitting you even harder; it hurt, hurt so badly yet so perfectly as you cried.
“No no no - Simon - Simon - stop, I’m gonna -“ you tried begging him but it was already too late.
Despite Simon’s strength, his cock was forced out by your body as you squirted, but he merely slapped his tick member against your cunt instead, hitting your clit. He forced your body to continue, his hand moved from your throat, instead holding onto your ankle, keeping you open for him, using the other hand to tap his cock against you. It was like it kept coming, making you scream and twist in the cuffs he had forced you into earlier.
It was soaking his entire lower body and the seats, the shame worse than you had expected; you had sprayed your juices all over his thighs and it was dripping from yours too, when your body finally finished. He was moaning, somehow making that degrading and you could barely hear the words that followed, too gone.
He was on you again, forcing you into the same position, your poor, wet and puffy cunt stretched again as he filled you once more, making you squeal. Your sight was blurry and his hand was on your jaw then, grip bruising, as he forced you to look at him. You barely understood the words he said, something about fucking you dumb - but you felt the spit that then hit you cheek, splatting all over your face, making you whimper.
He continued to fuck you, as if he was some fucking machine, growling like a dangerous animal in a rut, unable to stop breeding you.
“I would kill for this pussy,” he moaned, eyes dark as he met yours, fucking grinning, a sight that made your toes curl and stomach twist,  “do you want me to kill for you, huh??”
“Noo,” you whined, shaking your head, making him laugh.
“I fucking would, princess,” he growled, making you cry again. It was getting too much, everything felt overwhelming, your poor pussy almost in pain - but somehow he forced another orgasm from you. It made your entire body shake and finally, fucking finally he came with a loud, primal-like scream, filling you up with his cum.
You panted beneath him, knowing you looked like an absolute mess. Sweaty, drool running from the edge of your mouth, his spit on your face; your own juices running down your lower body and his cum would no doubt drip out the moment he pulled out.
He was softening inside you, yet he still leant down, your poor legs hurting and still bent, kissing you. He kissed like he fucked you. Dominating and controlling, forcefully yet so fucking wonderful. You moaned and gasped into his kiss, making him smile smugly. Simon pulled back, just a tad, your faces so close.
You felt a shiver run along your spine at his words, nausea appearing in your stomach.
“I meant it you know,” he whispered, all lovingly, “I would kill for you, princess.”
You let out a small sound.
“I don’t want you to,” you answered weakly, voice shaking a little. He looked cold just for a second as he replied.
“Then don’t give me a reason to.” 
Simon grinned all happily then, straightening up and pulling out, cum immediately oozing out, giving your ass a hard smack, just to watch you clench and twist for a second as you wailed.
“Get dressed,” he then said, opening the car door behind him, casually stepping out all naked, “I’ll drop you off.” 
He stepped to the front door then, putting on his boxers, his own clothes on the seat all neatly. Then he reached into the small cup holder in the front, picking up the key for your cuffs.
You awkwardly turned around and he moved again, opening the cuffs and your arms hurt from behind beneath you for so long. Your eyes flickered to him as you reached for your clothes. But Simon was quicker than you. Without even looking apologetic, he reached down to pick up your clothes at the car floor, rummaging through it for a second until he found your panties. 
You knew not to argue.
You got dressed quickly, knowing he wasn’t always patient.
You felt his cum seeping into the fabric of your skirt as you sat down at the passenger seat next to him a minute later, hoping it wouldn’t drip onto this seat too.
Simon turned on the car, fully dressed himself, the radio automatically starting to some low rock music. He drove from the forest casually, his hand resting on your thigh whenever he wasn’t changing gears.
“Are you busy this saturday?”
You were. But he never liked it when you were.
“Only in the evening,” you answered carefully.
“Good. I’ll pick you up then.”
That was that. A little while later he dropped you off after a bruising kiss.
You stumbled into your apartment a few minutes later, body sore and dirty, discarded like a used toy that he was done playing with. You knew there was something wrong about him. The words about killing for you made you feel bad as they replayed in your mind again, as you quickly stripped, stumbling towards the shower to clean.
You should stop seeing him. Start dating. Get a partner, a good one, a loving one. Yet… yet you were going to go Saturday when he texted you. Like a good toy should.
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stellaestra · 1 month ago
Text
I look into the spaces in-between in search of you (I miss you more than anything)
pairing: tim drake/mc [reader] author's note: old ideas from high school for me to write excerpts about as per usual and tim's my muse to explore these ideas on unless stated otherwise, if you see this posted on ao3, yes that is me too dw
this is unfortunately very self-indulgent hehe <3 mb babes p.s. this cld be taken as both ways? romantic? platonic? take your pick lol
word count: 1511 words
cw: um, mentions of injury? unedited // no beta read, we'll die like men here
---
It had been days since the last time Tim had slept ever since he found footage of someone that seemed eerily familiar to you, clad in a bright red jacket that was practically your signature back then. It was one of your favourite jackets after all.
He was getting a little too frantic and was rather adamant about them being you. He wanted to prove to everyone that you weren't dead but alive. 
He would delay the process of falling asleep if he had to.
“Red Robin.” He spoke into the mic.
“Access approved.” The artificial intelligence responded back.
“Where are they hiding you?” The words trailed off, his eyes were already glued to the screen. 
His icy blues scanned through the files; that includes, footage, clips and articles – each and every one of them, trying to search a certain code-name belonging to someone he once knew very well like the back of his hand and grew extremely fond of over the course of the years of knowing them.
The only footage that could have matched your physique was that single footage alone and it irked him to no end. 
He was already rather obsessed with the idea of trying to search for you and none of his family members nor friends managed to deter him away from his work.
However, there was a single tiny nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him of the possible reality that there was no way you would come back unless some kind of miracle brought you back to life like what had happened to Jason and he never really touched that particular topic whenever asked.
Only vague answers from him. He would always end the conversation before it started.
Meanwhile, you weren't quite pleased with the fact that you had to drop out of your current school and had to take online classes to finish your high school education for the sake of a diploma to show you completed everything that was necessary to proceed further into higher education. 
Well, at least there was some compensation for it, the organisation you were under was paying for your education so you couldn't complain as much as you would like. Whether you like it or not, you need to be under everyone's radar for the time being because you were relatively vulnerable while you were in the middle of recovering.
It was rather unfortunate that you had obtained a very life-threatening wound months ago, it took you ages to finally feel like your body was yours and move it the way your brain intended it to. 
The phantom pain of being stabbed was another thing to deal with in the midst of doing your everyday life now. 
Your recovery period was a lot more sedentary than you would have liked too. There was always a constant itch to do workout routines that was far too intense for your weakened state at the moment.
All in all, this was something they told you to do and it was to keep prying eyes away from you until you reached full recovery before being deployed back onto the field.
Staying with your grandma was pretty nice too, it had been quite some time since your family last visited her and it was always annual visits at the end of the school year for Christmas. 
Your other issue living in a more secluded area was, of course, none other than net signal stability. It kind of helped you to be harder to be detected and traced back but it still irked you that you would need to wait longer for your files to be downloaded.
Regardless, life has been much simpler and far less hectic than your usual ones back home. It was nice to be able to breathe for once instead of being dogpiled by both your school tasks and your other responsibilities.
It wasn't easy for your uncle to convince your parents for you to move away for your recovery period after your so-called hit and run accident which was a cover-up for your actual one. 
It had taken several months for Tim to get the final clue needed to prove you weren't dead and he finally got it now —
“Found you.” Tim muttered under his breath, sounding almost unhinged — wide icy blue eyes zeroed in on another footage he managed to scrape through the worldwide database, fingers hovering his keyboard. 
The teen had immediately booked the next flight available to where you were now regardless of the schedules that had lined up for him. He couldn't give a flying damn about it right this second now that he finally located your whereabouts they so desperately tried to conceal your presence from everyone.
He jumped to his closet, scavenging through his mess of clothes to throw into his carry-on luggage bag for him to bring with on his impromptu trip.
The next morning, he made his way to Gotham’s airport without so much as leaving a note to mention where he would be. He doesn't want anything to risk his solid decision.
The dawning realisation fell upon him when he touched-down at your home country airport. He was finally here. He was finally able to see you now. 
His next hurdle was to track you down to your very exact location and it wasn't going to be a breeze for him – he hated to admit and they covered your tracks far too well for any mistakes to happen. 
It took him roughly a week or so to get a clue of you. 
Tim spotted your silhouette from miles away before he made a beeline for you. He called out your name almost desperately, causing you to turn back and face him. 
You looked as pretty as the last time he saw you. A sheepish look plastered your features as you faced him fully. 
“...Found you.” He exhaled out, he was a little out of breath from sprinting to your spot. Call him crazy or whatever. He wasn't going to lose sight of you. 
“...Uh, hi, hey, Timbo,” you chuckled, your eyes betrayed you as there was a look of guilt behind them despite you trying to play it off coolly, “took you long enough, huh?” 
He remained silent as he stared at you, soaking in your presence and trying to etch everything about you right now into his brain. His icy blue eyes were starting to intimidate you right now because you rarely ever felt so exposed in someone's presence before. 
“Heh, well, don't let it get to your head,” you joked, running your fingers through your hair, “the only reason you were able to find me was because I let myself be found.”
“Shut up, I'm very upset with you right now,” His words sounded wet, as if he was fighting back his tears even though there was a deep frown set on his lips, jaws clenched and shoulders straightened (tensed). There was nothing else that indicated that he was about to cry other than his voice that carelessly betrayed him.
He had managed to trace you back to your home country was one thing, the other part was finding you at your exact location was another gamble.
He found you at the beachside of Sipitang, a town located in one of Sabah's district divisions, taking a walk while eating chicken wings skewers you had bought in a plastic dangling in your hands.
“Why, you want a reward for finding me sooner than intended?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at him, “the only thing I have on me right now is my chicken wings if you want some?”
He doesn't know what to do with himself nor what he would like to say to you now that he has found you, safe and sound in Borneo Island. He wanted to pull you into his arms so badly but he withholded himself from doing so because you would look at him weird for even attempting such a feat. 
You've known Tim for several years now and you would like to think you knew him from the inside out enough to take notice of his little quirks and decipher them to how he would like to be perceived as.
You opened your arms wide, inviting him for the hug that the other boy was trying to force himself not to give.
It took him a few moments to finally give in, and pushed his pride away to embrace you, taking you into his arms and feeling the warmth you gave away through your body. He hid his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent.
“I miss you.”
“I'm very much aware,” you chuckled into his shoulders, squeezing him, “don't think I didn't notice you snooping around our database, you loser."
“I need to prove to them you aren't dead and I need to see it with my own eyes.” He admitted, wounding his arms tighter around you.
“Of course you’d do that, you stalker.” 
“I really did miss you.”
“Me too.”
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hispg · 10 months ago
Text
Between royalty and vows
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Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc:3.4k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, (I'll put more once things start to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
An: Sooo there is the new chapter! I was so anxious to write it and post it! In all honesty, this is the chapter that I most liked to write(so far).
I've been receiving some dms about creating a taglist, so I'll do it from the next chapter and on. If you're interested in entering the tag list, you can dm me or comment on any chapters of this fic, and I'll add you. For the ones who already talked to me, I'll put you on the list already, so you don't need to message me again!<3
Also, I'll start to crosspost this fic here and on Ao3, for the ones who prefer to read in there. Here's the link Ao3. Eventually, I'll post all chapters!
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Chapter 5: Pretty lies
The heavy rain outside was no bother to the couple in bed, just as the cold was no problem that couldn't be solved with the intimacy that had just been shared under the covers.
There he was, lying with his lover, Ashley. Warming another woman's bed, offering her the warmth that his body emanated, the love that made her heart beat faster every time.
Both were nude, without the slightest concern for anything, all that mattered was what had just happened in that room. The closeness they shared, the oaths of love spoken between each kiss, between each embrace.
They had just made love, done something that was yet another symbol of the compromising union they contained.
Leon hadn't gone back to the castle as soon as he arrived back from his trip, he had gone to his beloved's house, a hidden place that only they knew where it was, only the lovebirds met there.
It was their love nest.
The same place where Ashley gave herself to him for the first time, the same sacred place where they made love whenever they could. The place where they loved each other deeply, where they didn't have to hide anything.
Ashley lay with her head on Leon's bare chest, while he had one arm wrapped around her and the other stroking her blonde hair.
The only sound in the room was the wood cracking in the fireplace and the soft breathing of both of them in that bed.
The clothes were thrown about, the silk covers hiding their shame, but if Leon was being honest, he couldn't think of a better place to be.
Because he felt at home every time he was with Ashley, even if he knew it was wrong.
And he was screwed if anyone found out.
"Are you staying?" Ashley asks in a whisper, taking the opportunity to place a soft kiss on his chest.
Leon gives her a blown smile, looking at her tenderly, "I'd love to. But you know I can't."
It was already too bold of him to come to this place to spend time with her, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go along with her every whim.
Especially as the wedding was approaching, and he was dead if he didn't show up.
She sighed helplessly, knowing full well that this would be the answer from the start. But in all honesty, what did she expect? Despite her misfortunes, she was the mistress.
"I promise I'll try to see you more, mh? My wife won't be the problem, don't worry." Leon reassured her, kissed her on the forehead and got up, soon he would be getting ready to leave.
Although he wanted to be with her for even five more minutes, he would give all the money in the world to make it happen.
"Does she know about us?" Ashley asked, picking up the blanket and covering her bare midriff.
That was enough for Leon to clench his eyes shut, buttoning his pants as he stared at her.
"She can't even conceive of it. You know our deal." It was a good deal for both sides, not least because Leon didn't even want to imagine what Ashley's father would do to him once he found out what he and his daughter were doing behind closed doors.
Ashley then sighed, the blonde strands falling across her forehead as she thought for a moment.
"Do you think you can still see me after you're married?" She asks softly, almost embarrassed by her own question.
"I'll always find a way, don't worry." He says, the sincere smile that became the perfect proof that he was saying this from the bottom of his soul.
It was always a painful farewell, but Leon knew it was necessary for him to do it. Once he'd put all his clothes back on, he turned to Ashley, taking her in his arms and planting a gentle, passionate kiss on her lips. He also made a point of pressing his body against hers to leave his cologne on her.
It wasn't enough to have his smell on the silk sheets, he needed to leave his mark on her too.
Goodbyes aside, he knew he had to leave, the sun was rising, and if he wanted to get back to the castle before it was too late, he had to leave now.
As he took the steps to leave the small chalet in the Italian countryside, where no one suspected them, he took one last look at his beloved, giving her a broad smile as he said goodbye.
Watching Ashley go all wobbly as he walked out the front door. She sighed as her lover left, waving to him and looking dreamily out of the window.
Leon walked up to the discreet carriage that was waiting for him in front of the cottage, besides the coachman, there was Leon's faithful butler, Ausdret.
And also his worst accomplice, the butler who always covered up everything Leon did, no matter how stupid it might seem or be.
"Your Highness." Ausdret greeted, leading Leon to the carriage.
"It's good that you're here." Leon replies back, tucking himself into the small carriage.
His butler nods and sits down on the opposite seat, facing Leon. Even though Ausdret knew that no one could put a halter on Leon, he was still trying to talk some sense into his young, dim-witted head.
"Your Highness do you not think it is inappropriate to maintain this relationship?" Ausdret asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Leon scoffed, narrowing his gaze at the poor butler, acting as if he had said the worst blasphemy that could be heard.
"Come on, you're a braggart too. Don't act like you're a kind gentleman with exemplary decorum." Leon retorts, crossing his legs as he fixes the buttons on his shirt once more.
Ausdret couldn't help but sigh, trying his best to make Leon understand how problematic it would be to keep all this up.
"Prince, you have a fiancée now. This relationship is no longer suitable." The butler said once again, pausing and emphasizing his lines, it wasn't possible that this was so difficult to understand.
"Well, it'll last as long as I want it to. You know better than that." Leon says, an unparalleled coldness in his voice, it was obvious, this subject was not up for discussion for him.
Ausdret always thought that this was just a youthful romance of Leon's, in fact he never thought that it would thrive for so long, for years. Leon was a man who could have any woman he wanted, not only because of the power he possessed, but also because of his beauty.
However, what the butler couldn't have guessed was that Leon would fall in love with Lady Ashley, a princess from another place. A likely romance, but love doesn't work properly in royalty.
"But Your Highness-" Leon interrupts Ausdret before he can continue.
"I am the prince, and you collaborate with me." Leon begins, his voice becoming an authoritative, voracious whisper.
"As I'm your highness, you must agree that you didn't see anything unusual. That I was on a business trip these last few days." Leon says, his gaze narrowing once more on the servant.
What could Ausdret say? He had always supported this boy, and even with a lump forming in his throat, he wasn't going to do any different again.
The butler knew that this situation wasn't fair to you, nor to Ashley, it would only end up with broken hearts and a quarrel that couldn't be undone.
Perhaps Leon was too young to understand this, but at some point fate would catch up with him.
"So? Did you see anything?" Leon asked, almost daring him to give an answer that was the opposite of what he wanted to hear.
"No, Your Highness. I didn't see anything suspicious." Ausdret replied under his breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head in denial.
"Good." Leon grumbles back.
The journey wouldn't take long, but Ausdret already knew that the rest of the way would be filled with the ache of an inconvenient silence.
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You knew you'd end up getting into trouble with your recent actions, but that still didn't stop you from going ahead with them. At that moment you were in the grassy fields on the outskirts of the castle.
It was easy to get here, you just needed the help of Chris and your maid, Evelyn. Nothing more than a silly little lie to disguise your departure.
The view was beautiful, you felt almost at home in a place like this. You were sitting on the horse while Chris guided the animal, walking through the grass carefully while also keeping an eye on you.
You couldn't tell if you were approaching Chris out of hurt ego, or because he was someone incredibly interesting and good to have around.
Perhaps you had combined the useful with the pleasant, because in all honesty, you couldn't deny that you were enjoying all this time with Chris, even feeling more at peace with yourself.
"Well, at least you escaped the tea party." Chris jokes, looking at you with a smile.
You nod, smiling back at him.
"God, I can't imagine what it would be like to spend another afternoon with Mrs. Hisltons!" You grumble, frowning as you remember all the tedious conversations the lady has put you through.
Chris couldn't help himself and laughed out loud, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes.
"Oh, tell me about it. As soon as I got here, she gave me a good lecture on why I should get married." Chris says with a playful tone, walking slowly with you through the pastures.
You smiled a little, petting the horse as a question popped into your mind.
"But, forgive me for being impolite, but why haven't you gotten married yet?" You asked calmly, giving him the opportunity not to answer if he didn't want to.
"Nothing in particular, I just haven't found any suitors that catch my eye." He says, without much ado, getting straight to the point.
You'd think someone as cultured as him would want a woman who knew a bit more than just dresses and jewelry. Completely fair and understandable.
But you still can't help thinking that Chris was alone by choice, it wouldn't be the first time a man had preferred being alone to being married.
"I understand, but is it something you're thinking of doing? I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive." You say with a peaceful smile, trying to get to know the man you've grown so close to over the last few days.
Chris then paused and pondered, thinking of an answer that would measure up. But he couldn't think of anything more sincere than:
"Yes, I intend to." Just like that, or any other explanation.
But you saw his eyes light up a little when he looked at you for a brief moment, making you quietly gasp.
You then returned your gaze to your surroundings, the countryside that was such a contrast to the life you had. Which was far from peaceful.
Although you knew it shouldn't take you so long to get back to the castle, as they would probably notice you were gone, you could stubbornly stay here with him.
With Chris, the man who had been giving you so much comfort recently.
Chris then looked at you with a charming gaze, helping you off the horse. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you got off the animal.
Feeling his heavy, manly hands on your body made you feel something different, but you preferred not to mention it. Not least because you were being completely inappropriate for a dame.
You allowed yourself to feel the ground beneath your heels, removing the footwear from your body, feeling the grass between your toes.
The thought of returning to your new home was already distant, you could even swear that you forgot about Leon for just a moment. You forgot about the fact that he was coming back today.
And that he would be back around noon. And it was almost two in the afternoon, he was probably already at the castle by then.
But well, what would be the point of sneaking out of the castle with the Duke if not for a bit of confusion.
"You know, this is turning out to be one of the nicest afternoons I've had." Chris says, smiling and following you as you walk across the lawn.
"Oh, yes. It's nice to get out of that place for a bit." You say, looking at the sun, which is already descending.
Chris followed you, keeping an eye on every step. And you even saw out of the corner of your eye that he tried to take your hand, but hesitated to make such an intimate gesture.
You even heard the trumpets sounding in the distance, announcing the prince's arrival, but nothing that made you move from where you were.
And well, from the way Chris stood next to you as you watched the landscape of the field, he wouldn't leave until you asked him to.
At one point, you thought it would be better to leave, perhaps so as not to cause Chris any trouble. But the moment Chris's fingers touched your cheek, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, something in you sparked.
It was impossible to hide the red tinge that appeared on your cheeks, as well as the way you just ignored everything else. Everything seemed right.
You were surrendered, and you didn't want to leave this man's side. What on earth were you doing?
Why did you feel so torn? It couldn't end well.
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"Where is she?" It was the first question Leon asked as soon as he set foot in the castle, finding it strange that his fiancée wasn't here to greet him.
"The princess isn't feeling well, Your Highness." Evelyn, the maid who helped you escape, answered.
Leon wrinkled his eyebrows, glancing at the door of your chambers, he hadn't quite believed that excuse.
"Tell her I'll come and see her. She doesn't have to leave her room." Leon says, looking at the way the maid was beginning to shudder.
"She's really not well, Your Highness-" Leon didn't care how much the maid protested, he went ahead and went to your bedroom.
He opened the door without any manners, looking around as he searched for any sign of you. But he was disappointed when he found your bed empty, the room perfectly tidy and untouched. You hadn't been in that room for a while.
Your lie was already falling apart, as they say lies don't go far.
"Where is she?" Leon asked once again, this time more coldly and authoritatively, demanding an answer.
"I don't know! She was here this morning." The maid manages to stutter, unable to face Leon.
Leon clenched his fists, frustration and irritation taking over his feelings. You were getting out of hand, it wasn't enough that you'd been so bold with Chris, now this?
Even though he was away, he knew everything that was going on in that castle, and he couldn't let it continue the way it was.
Who did you think you were?
"Have her searched all over the castle." Leon demanded, leaving your room to look for you.
As soon as Leon saw that the maid hadn't moved a muscle, he added:
"Immediately." His voice was a low grunt, capable of sending a chill down anyone's spine.
The maid moved quickly, warning the other servants about the princess's 'disappearance', and they all stood by to look for you.
Nothing. They looked for you in every corner of that castle, every room, every space you could be in. And they found nothing, not a single sign of you.
Leon was fulminating, realizing that you and the Duke weren't in that castle. And you probably weren't close.
"We haven't found her, Your Highness. The princess isn't in the castle." One of the servants dares to speak, trembling at having to address the prince.
"What do you mean she's not in the castle?" Leon muttered, looking out the windows while trying to find you somehow.
And Leon had to stop himself from gritting his teeth as he watched the scene with his own eyes. You came in through the back door, a delicate hood over your head to disguise your identity.
You were sitting on Chris's horse, smiling happily as the man led the horse inside. You seemed so close, so intimate.
Something about it made Leon go crazy, he can't say, but some strange feeling rose in his chest and made a knot form in the pit of his stomach.
What were you thinking? You were a lady, Jesus! You should behave like one.
"You are dismissed, return to your duties." Leon says to the other servants, leaving no room for questions.
Drastic situations call for drastic measures, only then will you be able to understand your place. And how you should act as a future queen.
Leon waited, right in the center of the main hall, he decided he would act as if he hadn't seen anything. He felt his breathing quicken, heard the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
He didn't know if it was anger, disappointment or something else.
You didn't realize he was there until you saw the pair of blue eyes looking you up and down, for some reason sending a shiver up your spine.
"I was worried about you." He was the first to speak, approaching you without a second thought.
"Excuse me, Your Highness. I needed some fresh air." You say, your voice smooth as silk, sweet as honey.
You needed to act as if nothing much had really happened, as if you hadn't gone off with the Duke alone, without letting anyone know.
Even more so, going out alone with a man.
Leon narrows his eyes, placing a hand on your waist, pulling you close. His touch made you gasp, your eyes widen and your breathing hitch, at the same moment you felt your breath mingle with his.
For a moment, you looked at each other, his penetrating gaze causing an incomparable flush to rise to your cheeks. His hands on your body, one holding your cheek, steadying you to do what he wanted to do.
What was he going to do? Oh, you realized it in the next second, when you saw his face coming closer to yours. His nose touching yours, and then, that's when…
He kissed you.
His lips against yours, his hand holding you firmly and preventing you from moving. It was unconscious, instinctive, you moved your lips in sync with his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you sealed this moment with the warm intimacy of a kiss.
It wasn't sincere, it was carnal.
The world around you seemed to stop, you were focused on the warm feeling that took over your body, the way the heat of the moment enveloped you. Your body molded itself to his so well, it was so perfect.
As if it was meant to be.
It was painful to separate your lips from his, your mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Was it real? Had he reconsidered? Maybe he was going to give you both a chance?
You were a very dreamy girl perhaps, those endless dreams that you wished from the bottom of your soul were real, that you clamored for to come true at some point.
But oh, that little act, it was far from a dream.
When you regained your senses, you looked around and saw a group of high-class ladies staring at the two of you. The dreamy looks and sighs they gave when they saw the couple, the passionate couple.
In the corner, you saw the king and queen, smiling approvingly at the two of you. They were proud.
A show off.
Reality weighed heavily on your mind when you understood. It was nothing, it was a show off, an exhibition. The momentary magic wore off and gave way to the bitterness that once again fell upon you.
Whose fault was it? Yours, for having once again believed in the foolishness that was Leon's chance of seeing you beyond being a prize. Or Leon, for toying with you in such a way?
In any case, what a shame. The taste of his lips was imprinted on yours, the sensation of his lips against yours was still so vivid. So real. You felt loved in a few seconds, putting yourself in your place soon after.
With one simple action, Leon reminded you of who you belong to, legally, and also reminded you of your place. Of your obligations to him, he came out the winner once again.
Damned bastard.
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