#i love drawing scenes from fics! i love putting image to the writing:)

[ghostbergara]

something from this western treasure hunting au if the spirit takes u

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44120635

you bet the spirit took me

a great fic, thank you for the suggestion!

[cyripticchronicler]

i haven’t request before so i apologise if i’ve done anything wrong 😭

sirius finding out about james & regulus’ relationship so he asks out james’sibling!reader for ‘revenge’ but falls for reader hard.

it’s absolutely fine if you don’t do this, just thought i’d request and i love your fics 🤍🦇

Accidental Love

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Potter!Reader

Summary: Sirius can't erase the image of Regulus and James together. And he knows that the only way to put out the flame of anger in his chest is through you.

A/N: This is my longest fic yet ahaha. It was a lot of fun and I hope you enjoy! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to your requests, I've had so many things to write! To all the other people who have requested, I'll get to them as soon as I can. I love you all and you deserve great things xx (Yes that's a Pride and Prejudice (2005 version) quote at the end of the fic)

TW: Swearing, Sirius is kinda a dick, mention of Sirius' bad parents, kissing, not proofread (please tell me of any mistakes)

Masterlist

The red hot betrayal stings Sirius’ tongue and poisons each gulp of water he forces down his throat in an attempt to control his growing anger. His hands shake, fisted at his side, yet he can’t draw his eyes from the scene in front of him. 

His best friend and brother, laughing and holding hands like it was completely normal to see the two together. Sirius isn’t sure why the sight in front of him hurts so bad. Maybe it’s because it’s his brother, one he’s never had a good relationship with because of his parents always pushing them apart, laughing so easily and carelessly with his best friend. Or maybe it’s because it’s James, one of his best friends, the one he tells everything to, keeping this relationship with his brother a secret. 

He probably looks insane, sitting alone in the corner of The Three Broomsticks, anger rolling off of him in waves. He’s not sure what to do. Does he go up there and confront them? Does he pretend like he saw nothing? Logistically, he knows it would be better to walk away, take a moment to gather his thoughts, but he just can’t get the image of them out of his mind, can’t get the taste of betrayal off of his tongue. 

So he forms a plan, one he doesn’t let himself second guess. And he knows it’s going to work well, knows it’s going to hit James right where it hit Sirius because it involves you.

✰✰✰

You’re none the wiser to the plans and strategies forming in Sirius’ head, leaning against the armrest in the Gryffindor common room as you chat adamantly about all the Transfiguration homework that has been set. 

Alice, smiling at how worked up you get over the class, listens eagerly to your complaints, butting in when it feels right. Lily on the other hand, taking up all the space on the sofa with her long legs, pokes at your arm in an attempt to shut you up, having heard you complain on the way to the grand hall this morning. 

“How about instead of complaining, you actually do the homework,” She teases, giggling as Alice hits her leg playfully. Your face scrunches in confusion, head tilting to the side ever so slightly. “I’ve already done the homework.”

Alice and Lily gawk at you. Huffing out a laugh, Alice grins teasingly. “Then what’s all this complaining for? You’ve been talking non-stop for half an hour about this bloody homework.” It’s your turn to smile, shifting so your feet are between Lily’s legs spread out on the couch, ignoring her annoyed yelp. “Just because I’ve finished doesn’t mean the amount wasn’t pure torture the whole time.”

You hear Lily’s smirk before you see it. “That sounds a little dirty. Who’s been torturing you, missy?” Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing even as you laugh. “Shush! My brother’s probably here somewhere, and I don’t think he’d like the thought of his little sister getting it on,” You grit through your teeth, scanning the crowded room to look for him. You sigh in relief when you see no sight of him.

“Oh please,” Alice pinches your cheeks. “No one would believe you’re getting it on. When a guy asks you out you just stare at them and wait until they take it back.” You swat her hands away and rub your red cheeks. “That is not true!” They just stare at you, eyebrows raised. 

Thankfully, you’re saved from having to defend yourself when someone pointedly clears their throat from behind you. Cringing at the thought of someone having heard your conversation, you turn around slowly, heart speeding up at the sight of none other than Sirius Black in front of you. 

You’ve stopped lying to yourself about the tiny, minuscule, crush you have on Sirius months ago. There’s no denying the speeding of your heart, or the way your cheeks flush when he so much as looks your way. But you’ve pushed those feelings away, deep down inside you to gather dust and hopefully one day, whither away.

You muster up your best smile and ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Hey, Sirius. I’m not sure where James is but I think Remus is in the library.” He smiles his usual, arrogant smile but it wobbles like it’s hard to hold. 

“I’m not here to see them. I’m here to see you.” Eyes widening a fraction, you attempt to get your thoughts in place, though it’s hard with the consistent poking of Lily’s finger on your arm. “Okay.” You take Sirius’ gesture to an emptier part of the room as a sign, awkwardly shuffling out of between Lily’s feet and trying not to trip. 

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Your hands fiddle nervously behind your back and you shift on your feet. Sirius reveals his picture-perfect smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. Smoothly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, he places a cold hand on your shoulder, stopping your nervous movements. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us?” Time seems to stop, your breath getting caught in your throat. Through your shocked haze, the overthinking spiral begins just like it does when anyone asks you out. Sirius could be asking you out as a joke. Maybe James is pranking you. It’s most likely a dream, Sirius has shown no interest in you before. 

“You okay?” His amused voice snaps you from your over-thinking haze, eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden dryness. Back to the corner of the room, you’re able to spot Alice and Lily eyeing you curiously from their spot on the couch a few feet away. Alice notices your stare and provides an encouraging thumbs up, while Lily performs some crude motions with her fingers.

Frowning, you drag your eyes back to Sirius’ patient eyes. “Um,” Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth. “Okay?” He lights up, eyes twinkling while an eager grin spreads across his face, showcasing his dimples. You try not to awe out loud. 

“Great! Does tomorrow in hogsmeade sound good? We’ll meet in the common room and walk down together.” You can’t do anything but manage a small smile and nod, overwhelmed with the amount of emotions hitting you. 

Sirius shoots you another smile, and perhaps if you paid more attention you would have noticed the guilt painted on his face, or the smell of revenge as he walked away.

✰✰✰

In the cool common room, morning light peeks through the framed windows and sheds a musky light throughout the empty space. You stand awkwardly in the middle, kicking the dusty carpet nervously with your shoe-clad feet. 

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest and you scratch at the inside of your wrist, a nervous habit you picked up years ago. You’ve been standing for at least five minutes now, no sign of Sirius. Your mind is racing and you begin to wonder if he’s even coming or not, but thankfully for you and your heart, the sound of footsteps break out behind you.

“Hey!” You whip around, a small smile on your face that reflects the glee in your bones. “Hi,” You whisper, letting him pull you in for a small hug, a mere touch of your shoulders before he’s walking slowly beside you. 

“I was thinking we could go shopping then maybe get a butterbeer?” The small grin that paints his face is noticeable through his voice. “I’d love that. Um-” You scratch your eyebrow in an attempt to clear your thoughts. “How are you?”

His hand moves to your back, guiding you down the windy path that leads to Hogsmeade, layered with early morning frost. Your hands, clad in gloves to beat the cold, fidget nervously with the straps of your bag. “I’m well. Been busy with school. Remus’ birthday is coming up so we’ve been trying to plan something for him. How about you?”

“I’m okay. I’ve been swamped with school work, and barely had enough time to paint.” 

“You paint?” He asks curiously. You nod. “Yeah, mostly realism but sometimes abstract.”

“I’d love to see your work sometime, I’m sure it's beautiful.” You blush for what seems like the millionth time today. “Maybe one day.” You don’t share your art much, only to close friends like Lily and Alice, but only the really good ones. Yet, you can see yourself sharing your artwork with Sirius. 

You continue to chat about your classes, chatting adamantly with each other. And it feels good. He seems to care, laughs and makes jokes at the right times, stares at you with increasing interest. 

But there’s a nagging feeling in your gut, something that won’t go away no matter how much candy from Honeydukes you eat. “You alright?” Sirius asks when you’re quieter than usual, staring off into space while trying to decipher the odd feeling. 

Sirius watches as a frown tarnishes your usually happy face, the guilt of what he’s doing, how he’s using you, nagging at him. Yet he can’t seem to stop, whenever he thinks of admitting what he’s doing the image of James and Regulus together stares back at him and makes it hard for him to open his mouth. 

“Sorry, I’m alright, Sirius. Just thinking.” His shoulder bumps yours, pulling you along to The Three Broomsticks. “About?” He grins, a certain spark in his eyes. You smile back. “Just things.” He pulls you to a stop right outside the entrance, moving down your sweater-covered arms until his hands are in yours. 

“You’re really pretty.” It’s true, but it doesn’t stop the pang of guilt, followed quickly by an image of James and Regulus hugging. You melt, flushing under his stare, that's swarming with so much admiration, you find it impossible to believe.

“Thank you. So are you.” Entering The Three Broomsticks, warmth and the smell of butterbeer greeting you. You're too absorbed in finding an empty table to notice the pink flush that covers the apple of his cheeks. 

Throughout Sirius’ lifetime, he’s never gotten many compliments. After leaving his family and moving in with James, Euphemia had given Sirius many motherly compliments. But coming from a beautiful girl who he’s treating unfairly, the compliment hits hard. 

But it still doesn't stop him from planning, scheming. How can he show James how it hurts? How does he make sure he feels the same pain and betrayal Sirius felt when seeing Regulus and him together?

Watching you, eyes lit up by the flickering candles that provide a romantic, peaceful aroma, he knows that it’s going to hurt you. Painfully hard. 

✰✰✰

“How are you doing, Padfoot? Moony and I came up with another prank to get back at Malfoy. Are you up for it?” James speaks so casually, resting against the pillows on his bed while he reads a book about quidditch, it’s hard to think he’s keeping a secret. If Sirius had not seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have thought anything was out of the ordinary. 

“No.” He responds gruffly, shrugging on a leather jacket and pulling rings on his fingers. “You okay, Pads?” Remus asks and he finally looks up, noting the frown that pulls at both of their faces. “I’m fine.” His voice is noticeably softer when pointed at Remus.

“Where are you going?” James asks with a small, hesitant smile and Sirius can’t help but feel guilt at the anger he’s feeling towards an oblivious James. But he can’t bring himself to act nicer, can’t force a sweeter tone in his voice. “Date.”

“With who?” Your sister. “Someone.” Remus opens his mouth but he’s quick to cut him off. “Bye.”

Your first date with Sirius was a week ago and Sirius knew straight away what he wanted to do for the second date. Even though he’s doing it to get back at James, he can’t help but feel a pang of excitement at the notion of going on a second date with you.

Your smiling face greets him outside the common room, leaning against the wall across from the Fat Lady. “Hey, love.” You blush adorably at the nickname and Sirius eyes your nails as they scratch at your wrist. He grabs your hand before you can hurt yourself more.

You let him pull you down the moving stairs, your little giggles echoing off the stone walls. “Where are we going?” You ask, tightening your hold on his hand. “Painting.” Your eyes widen and you splutter in shock. 

“What?” Sirius can’t help but grin at the obvious excitement in your eyes. “I told you I wanted to see your artwork. I bought the supplies yesterday, figured we could have a picnic.” Your awe at this new side of Sirius, the side that plans special dates and puts effort into it. It was a nice day today and Sirius wanted to take advantage of the sunny weather before the snow that’s set to fall next week prevents them from going outside.

Sirius had shown no interest in you before. He’d been kind, sure, but you’d never had a proper, real conversation until he asked you out. Maybe that's why there’s still an odd feeling in your gut, maybe it’s because you know it’s weird he asked you out on a random day, without showing any interest in you before that. But for now, you blame it on overthinking and push those feelings away.

You chat aimlessly on the way to the Black Lake, fiddling with your skirt so you don’t do something stupid like grab his hand. After the end of your last date, you’ve both agreed to keep this dating thing a secret. 

The gasp you let out at the sight of the laid picnic has Sirius grinning, a proud sort of glee that rolls down his spine. He takes a seat next to you on the pink checkered blanket, sitting around the pile of food he prays you like. 

Passing you an empty canvas and a basket of paints, he watches as you sit and stare for a moment, contemplating. He doesn’t like the way his heart speeds up at the unmistakable beauty that is your face. So he ignores it. 

“What are you painting?” You grab the colors you need, mixing them on a fresh pallet. The ideas that come to you are clear as day, images of green, healthy trees next to a shimmering, blue lake where people are swimming in the early morning sun. You begin to paint before you forget. 

“Just a landscape. You?” You take a quick peek at his canvas, seeing he’s already added streaks of red and orange. “I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve ever painted before?”

“Ever?” You ask, the shock clear in your voice. You see him grin at you from the corner of your eye. “Never had the opportunity. No one in my family paints and James and Remus don’t.”

“Remus does actually, I ran into him once at this muggle painting class.” Sirius laughs. “Of course he’s painted before. He’s a man of many talents.”

You grin, brushing stray hair out of your eyes. Trying not to shiver at the cold wind, you begin to regret your decision of wearing a skirt and thin, long sleeve top. “He had the best art in the whole class, James couldn’t stop laughing at me when I came back with Remus behind me holding an award for best art.”

Sirius laughs, head throwing back at the thought of Remus’ smug face and your defeated one. “I guess you being siblings with James means you’re friends with all of his friends.” Your smile turns sad, voice quiet. “Yeah.”

Sirius frowns, momentarily stopping to gently nudge your shoulder. “What’s up?” You sigh, biting your lip. “It’s just…All of my friends- most of them, are really only friends with me because of James. Being friends with me would give them more opportunities to get with James, right?” You attempt a laugh though it’s not funny.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is genuine and when you look at him he’s already looking at you, eyes sparkling. You shake your head and look back down at your work. “Don’t be sorry, Sirius. You did nothing. And I have Lily and Alice, I don’t need anyone else.”

The guilt almost eats him alive. He feels physically sick at how you're going to react. At the fact he's doing something that’s going to hurt you badly. Your kind, beautiful soul doesn’t deserve this. 

He opens his mouth, ready to confess and face the backlash of you hating him, something he doesn’t know if he can handle but deserves. You beat him to it. “Don’t tell James, please. I don’t need him feeling guilty, it’s not his fault.” And now he can’t tell you. You’ve poured your heart out, confessed something you haven’t even told James. Maybe one day, when you grow to hate him and leave like they all will, will he tell you.

You continue to paint until the sun starts setting and casts a warm glow on the two of you. With your hair, now tied up in a messy bun and Sirius’ leather jacket around your shoulders, you look perfect in his head. He feels happy and free and he knows he’s looking at you weirdly, too soft for his usual harsh features but he can’t stop. 

So he looks away and shows you his painting of a terrible sunset where two people sit on a grassy field and watch as the sun makes room for the power of the moon. You show yours next, a painting worth the spot next to the Mona Lisa and Sirius makes sure to fawn over it, making sure you know your own worth. Afterwards, you eat and watch the sunset just like the couple in his painting. When you invite him sledding next week, he can’t bring himself to say no. Or to tell you the truth because that would mean losing you, and that’s something he just can’t handle. 

✰✰✰

“You ready, sweetheart?” Your laughter is music to his ears, a melody he’s not sure he could ever go without. It’s scary, how quickly you’ve grown on him, but he can’t bring himself to pull back. 

“I was born ready.” You’re holding a wooden sleigh beneath your armpit, fingers tapping along to a beat in your head as you trudge through the thick snow that fell overnight, the sunny weather from your last date nowhere to be found. 

You stop at the tip of a snowy hill, white frosting reflecting the sun in your eyes that you attempt to shield away with your gloved hands. “Let’s do this.” You grin teasingly at Sirius, holding up your sleigh. He copies you, hitting yours gently with your own. 

Placing the sleigh on the ground, he crouches down beside it with a furrowed brow. “How do we do this?” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “You’ve never done this before?” He sheepishly smiles, scratching the back of his neck. “My family’s not one for things like sledding.” 

You know about his family history of course, James has been talking to your Mom and Dad a lot more recently, discussing how we could get Sirius to stay with us. You hope one day he can do all the things he wasn’t allowed to do. Him and Regulus deserve better. 

You know Sirius wouldn’t appreciate the pitying look on your face so you mask it with excitement and quickly teach him how to sit in the sleigh. “Race you.” You challenge once he’s ready before speeding down the steep hill, Sirius not too far behind you. Laughter fills the air, your hair whipping behind you. 

Once you reach the end with an abrupt stop, you roll onto the cool snow, making snow angels. Sirius’ face comes into view, blocking the sun from your squinting eyes and you grin, tongue between your teeth as you attempt to withhold your loud giggles. 

“I beat you!” And then he’s jumping down beside you, rolling over top of you to tickle your warming body. He’s greedy, wanting more of your laughter that seems to be his lifeline. “That was luck!” He insists, continuously tickling you until you tap out. 

Then you’re running up the hill again, sleigh behind you while Sirius follows. He’s barely in his sleigh before you’re speeding down the hill again, a whir of colors in the white cloudy snow. He attempts to catch up, a running head start proves useful when he’s speeding past you with an excited cheer. 

The abrupt stop has him falling into the snow that he pays no attention to, whipping around to try and decipher where you went, having lost you halfway down the hill. “Hello?” He yells into the open, empty air. He can’t see you anywhere, just pure white snow. 

Sirius frowns, standing up to look around. “Hello?” His heart is racing now, no sight of you anywhere. “Where are you?” Stomping through the snow, he runs up the hill to see if you’re there. You’re not. 

“Boo!”

Sirius jumps in fright, letting out a high pitched scream that has you doubling over in laughter. “You-You-” You mock his face, quiet laughs escaping your open mouth. Stomach hurting from how much you’ve laughed, you collapse to the floor again, this time bringing Sirius with you. He falls beside you, one hand holding his head up while he watches you die of laughter, smile on his chapped lips. 

Slowly, your laughter dies down, silence heavy in the air. You open your eyes to find him staring back at you and you sigh at the beauty of his face. The slope of his nail, sharp cut of his jaw and accentuated cheekbones. 

He’s like a force that can’t be defeated, leaning up on your elbows, nose grazing his. He smiles, hot breath hitting your plump lips. “Can I kiss you?” You’re not sure whether the words uttered were your own or his, but both of you eagerly lean into each other, lips grazing before he’s pressing them against yours. 

It’s heart stopping, a thrill racing down your spine and you press yourself harder against him, letting him grip your waist with his large hands. Sirius can’t think, can’t feel anything but your lips on his, warm and soft and perfect.

And he knows that he can’t ever tell you. He can’t tell you of his cruel, unforgivable actions because he knows now that you were the one he always needed. He won’t tell you anything.

✰✰✰

“Did you just smile at my sister?” James’ voice snaps Sirius out of his trance where he was thinking and looking at you. Whipping his head to face James, whose face is set in curiosity, Sirius merely nods. “We’ve become…Friends.”

He can’t help himself and sneaks another look at you where you sit not too far away, hands moving wildly in front of you whilst talking to Alice and Lily. He grins again. 

“Oh,” A knowing glint enters James’ eyes. Sirius ignores it. “I’m glad you’ve become…Friends.” James attempts to hide his smirk by drinking his orange juice. 

Sirius is too absorbed in you and the fact you’re walking near him to notice or care. He thinks he’s about to have a heart attack when you stop beside him, lips tingling in memory of the kiss from just yesterday. 

He feels his heart deflate when you direct your attention to James and not him. “You said you wanted to talk to me?” His eyes widen and he nods, shooting Sirius a quick, guilty glance before standing up from his seat. “Yeah, I want your advice on something. Can we walk?”

Your eyebrows furrow, curiosity reflecting in your eyes. You nod and follow him out of the great hall whilst shooting Remus and Sirius a parting smile. 

“I’m glad to hear you and Sirius are friends.” Hands in his uniform pockets, James is a ball of nervous energy. You blush at his words and the only response you can come up with is a quiet “yeah.”

You round the corner that leads to the courtyard. “I was thinking that since you and Sirius are now friends,” He exaggerates the word ‘friend,’ “I could get your advice on how you think he’d feel if he found out me and Regulus are dating.” The whispered last words have you stopping in your tracks, head whipping up to stare at James with wide eyes. 

“You’re gay?” James panics, whipping his head around and aggressively pushing you into an empty classroom. “Merlin, you don’t have to shout it.”

“James,” You can’t hold back your smile, “I’m so happy for you.” He deflates, eyes that once bounced around the room nervously now glint with unshed tears and he pulls you in for a tight hug. 

You hug him back tighter, squeezing in a way you hope annoys him. You mutter against his shoulder, “To answer your question, I think Sirius would be happy for you both. But he’s protective over Regulus, it might take time for him to get used to the idea.”

He pulls away, shaking your shoulder while he subtly wipes away a stray tear. “Okay, thanks, I keep panicking at the thought of Sirius hating me for dating his brother. He’s been ignoring me recently and I keep thinking it’s because he already knows.”

Your eyes widen, having a slight suspicion on why Sirius was ignoring James. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you. Now we should go before we’re late for first period.” He shakes you aggressively, holding you by the shoulders in a brotherly way to annoy you. 

“Yes, go to class, little shit. I’m happy for you and Sirius, you know.” Wild heat blazes across your cheeks, heart growing louder in your ears. “I-I don’t-”

He’s out of the room before you can finish your sentence.

✰✰✰

“Let’s go before all the tables are full!” You’re pulling Sirius along, having to take large lunge-like steps to reach The Three Broomsticks quickly. Light snow, melting by each step, provides a slippery path to the entrance. 

Sirius has his hands on your hips, ensuring you don’t fall. He reaches past you to open the door, quickly guiding you in to ensure the heat does not escape. The tilt of his lips is felt against the shell of your ear, keeping you close against him. 

You giggle quietly, a flush warming your whole body. Sirius feels the exact same flush. He’s never felt so warm and happy. It’s all because of you. 

His body bumps into you when you abruptly stop in the middle of the building. Nudging his nose with your cheek - how easily he began to crave your touch a shock to even him - he follows your gaze, letting out a breath at the view he’s unwillingly seen a second time. 

James and Remus. Noses touching. Hands touching. Staring only at each other. He wonders if that’s what you both look like, infatuated with each other, greedy with touches and absolutely disgusting to look at. 

“Do you-” Your voice, sweet as honey, snaps him out of his thoughts. “-want to sit with them?” Your voice is hesitant, nervous for his reaction. But a simple squeeze of his hand has him nodding and shuffling to the table where James and Regulus have finally noticed you both. 

He notices the way you separate from him so that you’re no longer touching. But, instead of focusing on that, he focuses on shooting his brother a strained, awkward smile. He’s never had the best relationship with his brother, something Sirius regrets deeply. 

The strain their parents caused with favoring one and abusing the other, had caused a rocky relationship that had been on the mend ever since Sirius had become friends with James and Remus. 

“Do you want to sit?” The sharp, blunt voice of his brother has him sitting and pulling you with him. Years of living together has given Sirius the talent of noticing his brother's nervous tics. The tick of his jaw and scrunch of his nose gave him away. 

It seems Sirius wasn’t the only one who noticed his nervousness because James, who still chats with you, places his hand on top of Regulus’. “How are you?” Sirius attempts, tongue heavy in his mouth. 

“Good.” Came his blunt reply. A tap of his hand from James has his jaw twitching. “How are you?” 

“Good.”

Silence

You, ever kind and understanding, would not settle for the awkward and kept the conversation going, conversing with James and Regulus, even attempting to include Sirius, who tried to join in for you. And Regulus. 

He watches the way James notes every expression on Regulus’ face, can read any sign of nervousness, stress, happiness, and he realizes he’s now not the only one who can read his brother. The skill that took Sirius years to master, James had learned in a much shorter amount of time. 

He frowns. “How long have you two been together?” Regulus answers, narrowing his eyes, threatening. “Three months.” James places a comforting hand on his shoulder and Regulus drops the glare. “What about you two?” He asks a lot more gently than Sirius asked. 

You, who watched the situation with an amused brow, flushed embarrassingly quickly. “Oh- we’re not-”

“We’ve been on three dates- four if you count this one. We’re still trying to figure it out.” Sirius replies smoothly. He’s surprised to find no hint of anger or betrayal on James’ face. Like he planned. But, he’s not disappointed at that fact. If anything, he’s relieved. Relieved James isn’t angry about this relationship because Sirius couldn't stay away from you if he tried. 

“I’m happy for you two.” You smile, kicking your brother gratefully under the table. A rare spark of amusement shines in Regulus’ eyes, a void of black. “Knowing you Sirius, I'm surprised you’re not pissed.” He leans forward on his elbows, tilting his head in a playful challenge. “You’re not secretly plotting to get back at us, are you?”

You laugh, turning to Sirius and expecting him to laugh too but he only looks down at his hands that grip his butterbeer, a flash of guilt that’s gone before it’s there. Your smile is tight. Wrapping your arm around Sirius’ arm, you go back to filling the silence. 

“Does Remus know?” James nods, licking the butterbeer off his lips. “Yeah, I needed advice on how to tell you,” He looks at Sirius. “I told him a month ago. That fucker told me he already knew.” 

You laugh, happy your brother is surrounded by such good people. Looking down in your hands, you note your drink is empty and sigh. “Does anyone want another drink?” The glasses in front of James and Sirius are empty while Regulus still nurses his drink. They both nod.

Sirius goes to stand up but you force him to sit with a hand on his shoulder. “Sit. I’ll go get the drinks while you three talk.” You widen your eyes, hoping Sirius gets the hint. Without leaving room for argument, you hurry to the bar to order more drinks, a giddy sort of excitement bubbling your blood. 

“Three butterbeers, please.” You grin, tapping your hands on the bench while you wait. “You and Sirius are cute.” You jump at a new voice, smiling at Marlene who takes the empty spot next to you while she waits for her drinks. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, flushed. She winks playfully at you. “So are Regulus and James. It’s annoying that they're gay, though. They’re so hot.” You laugh awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to someone talking about your brother like that. 

Fresh drinks in front of you, you’re about to head back to the table when Marlene says something that makes you pause. “I’m glad Sirius has finally gotten around to the idea of them together.” You tilt your head in confusion. “Finally? He just learnt of their relationship.”

It’s her turn to look confused. “No? I saw Sirius here like a month ago? He was staring all angry looking at them. I’m surprised steam wasn’t coming out of his ears. He just stood there for a good five minutes before he left, never got a table or anything.”

Your heart beats like crazy, a sinking suspicion forming in your mind. “What day was this?” Marlene smiles, unaware of the impending pain that she forces on your heart. “September 5th?”

The day Sirius asked you out. 

You’re not secretly plotting to get back at us, are you?

He was. 

Not wanting to go back to the table and face the truth just yet, you stand by the bar, listening to Marlene talk and pretending to listen. 

Sirius watches you, unable to keep his eyes off for more than a second. He forces himself to look away when he feels James staring at him though. “Yes?” 

“Don’t hurt her. She may act tough, but she’s sensitive.” James, face that’s usually all smiley and happy, is now set in a threatening glare, jaw clenched and Sirius knows he’s being serious. 

“I never want to hurt her.” It’s true. If the racing of his heart, the weird feeling in his bones, and the dizziness that fogs his mind whenever he thinks of you is any indication, he’s falling in love with you. But just because he wants to doesn’t mean he can go back in time and change his intentions for why he asked you out in the first place. He regrets it. The anger and betrayal that took over him was merely a passing emotion, replaced with happiness for both his brother and James. 

But just because his feelings about their relationship changed, doesn’t mean you would understand why he did it. 

✰✰✰

You’d been awfully quiet the rest of the night. And it’s hitting Sirus the wrong way. He knows something’s wrong but he doesn’t know what, nor does he know how to fix it. 

The light that you emitted was nowhere to be found, and you’ve kept yourself distant, ignoring all his attempts to touch you. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers in your ear, touching your hip gently. He frowns, heart panging when you flinch away from him. “I need to talk to you,” Your voice is a whisper, unable to be heard in the crowded common room if Sirius wasn’t so attentive to your every move. 

He nods, too aggressively to be considered normal. He watches you scratch your wrist and he lets you, not wanting to be rejected again. Or worse; you flinch back.

He follows you like a lost puppy, clambering up the stairs behind you until you’re in the empty hallway. You lean against the wall and he leans against the other one to give you space, wanting nothing more than to reach for your hand. 

“I-” You look down at your shoes, hiding your eyes from his wanting gaze. “I was talking to Marlene. She told me that you saw James and Regulus together like a month ago. And that you looked really angry.” It feels like a rock was stuck in his throat, he couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. He knows where it’s going and he knows he can’t defend himself because it was all. His. Fault. 

“Then Regulus made a joke, you know the one about you plotting to get revenge. I mean,” You ran your hand through your hands nervously, feeling like there was a pack of bugs in your heart that were fighting to get out “you didn’t even laugh at the joke. It wasn’t that funny but you looked so…Guilty-”

He can’t look you in the eyes when he confesses. “I first asked you out to get back at James.” He swore he could hear your heart break. He could feel his own heart shatter when you started walking away, and he desperately ran in front of you to try and get you to stop. “I have to admit, at first it was merely a ploy to make James understand what I felt. Because I was so angry and I felt so betrayed. I didn’t mean to fall for you, but you’re so brilliant. You’re beautiful and smart, and I was selfish. I’m so sorry, baby.” 

He couldn't keep the agony out of his voice if he tried. His chest was rising and falling in hard breaths and he felt physically nauseous. You’re everything to him and you’re going to leave him. 

“Would you-” Your voice cracks and you clear your throat. “Would you have told me at all? That you used me?” His silence was enough of an answer. 

Your whole body shakes and your bottom lip wobbles. Salty tears roll down your cheeks and you cover your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. No. He never even wanted you. He took advantage of your stupid crush and used you. A loud sob racks through your body and you turn away, unable to look at the man you had begun to fall in love with. 

“Please-” You managed to speak through gasped sobs. “Please, I can’t look at you right now.”

“I'm sorry-”

“Sirius.”

He walks off, taking your heart with it. The loss of his own heaving breaths told you he was gone and allowed you to finally collapse, falling back against the wall.

✰✰✰

You hadn’t left the girls dormitory in three days. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest and it holds you down, stopping you from going anywhere but your bed and the bathroom. Besides small bites of the food one of the girls had dropped off, you haven’t eaten much either. 

You feel pathetic. You wouldn’t be this worked up over any guy but it was Sirius, a man you’ve been crushing on for what feels like forever. And he used you. After you opened up, told him how you’ve been used multiple times because of James and he did the same thing. 

Three days in near total confinement, you’ve managed to analyze every moment with him. Every kiss, every touch, every look. Was any of it real? You’ve rubbed your cheeks raw from how much you’ve cried.

It hurts so bad and it seems to never end. It feels as though there's a big, gaping hole where your heart should be. 

“Hey, sweetie.” You lift your head from your tear-stained pillow, turning to face the door. Lily has just come back from classes, pretty red hair tied in a bun at the top of her head. She smiles one of her sweet, pitying smiles that only make you feel more pathetic. 

“Hi,” You mutter. She comes closer, stroking your hair and ignoring the knots. “James has come to see you.” 

You sit up so fast you begin to feel dizzy. “Fuck,” You whisper, pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead. “You think you could hold him off?” You already know the answer before she speaks. “I’m sorry. He’s been trying to see you ever since you never showed up for dinner three days ago. ‘Don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer anymore.”

“Okay,” You sigh, sitting up in bed and scrubbing your face. She kisses you on the forehead gently before going to get James who barges into your room almost immediately. “Are you okay?”

You scoff, giving him a smile while he practically forces you into a hug. “I’m fine.” Your voice is muffled by the fabric of his Quidditch shirt. With a disgusted sniff, you push him away from you. “Ew get away you stink.” 

He doesn’t listen and instead forces you against his shirt and you gag, hitting at his arms while he practically suffocates you. “I thought you were trying to comfort me, you piece of shit.” He finally lets you go and you gasp dramatically for fresh air. “I am comforting you. See, there's a small smile on your ugly face.”

“Fuck off,” You mutter, only half meaning it. His face turns serious. “Now, seriously, are you okay?”

You look down at your hands, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Did, uh, Sirius tell you what happened?” He frowns. “He did, had a fucking go at him afterwards.”

“James.” You scold. 

“But then,” He continued, “We talked. And he told me what happened, why he did it. Sure, it was a dick move but he seems really sad at the idea. He was on the verge of a panic attack, Remus had to calm him down. You don’t have to forgive him, but maybe it would help if you two spoke.”

“James,” You sigh, pulling at your hair as the pang of a headache pulses in the front of your brain. “He hurt me. He used me, I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk to him.” Gently, his hands move up to stroke your hair. “Okay, that’s okay. You don’t need to forgive him but I got a letter from Mom and she’s letting Regulus and Sirius stay with us for as long as they need.”

“Okay,” You blink, rubbing your eyes and laying back against the bed. “Can we talk about something else, I’m sick of crying.” He mockingly pouts though you know he really is worried about you. 

And then he’s pulling you in for another hug despite your physical protests. 

✰✰✰

It takes another five days to muster the courage to talk to Sirius. He’s sitting in the common room, staring into the fireplace that blazes with fire, eyes vacant. Remus and Sirius are huddled together, laughing at some gadget they’re playing with. 

You stand against the wall awkwardly, shifting on your feet awkwardly in hope Sirius would snap out of his daydreaming to notice you. Unfortunately, it’s Remus who notices you. And the smiled call of your name is what snaps Sirius out of his trance, bloodshot eyes snapping to yours almost instantly. 

The heartbreak in his eyes is a mirror of your own. You attempt a smile but it wobbles almost instantly. “Can I talk to you?” You’re not even sure you said it out loud but Sirius nods anyway, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking towards you, slowly as if you were ready to run at any moment. 

You feel like you could run at any moment.

With shaking hands, you gently grip his wrist. He lets out a sigh at the small touch of contact, eyes fluttering shut. Gently, you lead him outside of the common room and down the marble steps. 

It’s silent as you keep walking, down, down, down, until you’re at the Black Lake. Not once do you let go of your grip around his wrist. Not once does he comment on it, lest you remove your hand that provides the air he lives on. 

For the first time in a week he feels like he can finally breathe again. He’s scared of what you want to say, and he hates for this to be the last time he can touch you again. Impending dread twists his stomach but he selfishly allows himself to hope. 

“I want you to explain why you did it,” You start, stopping under a snow covered tree. Unlike Sirius, you’re dressed for the cold weather, wearing multiple layers of warm clothing and fluffy gloves. Sirius, on the other hand, is freezing his ass off, with only one layer of clothing and no gloves. But he doesn’t mind as long as it means more time with you. 

He’s been given the opportunity to explain himself and he’s not going to fuck this up. Shaking his head, he starts from the start. “When I first saw James and Regulus together I felt so angry. Regulus and I never had a good relationship, I like to blame it on my parents for pitting us against each other but I know it’s also my fault. I should have tried harder to have a relationship with him.”

It’s hard to stare with you looking at him like that but he’s trying his best. 

“I guess I got…Jealous? I’ve always wanted a good relationship with him- I mean he’s my brother, you know?” he lets out a dry laugh, void of any humor. “And then James didn’t tell me anything, I don’t expect him to but it hurt. I’ve been talking to someone Euphemia suggested and I think I was scared that he was going to leave. Regulus has always been my parents' favorite, and I got scared that James would see how much better he was and would leave me.”

 “Either way, I should have never involved you. And used you like that. You never deserved that and I’m so sorry.”

You’re quiet, staring at the frozen lake. Slowly, you wipe your mouth with your hands, turning to look at him. You manage a small smile before you’re walking towards him hesitantly, taking his hands that look ready to turn blue at any moment into yours. 

“Your hands are cold.” You place a gentle kiss on his knuckles and Sirius would have fallen to his knees in front of you if it wouldn’t have lost contact with your body, warm and inviting. Your lips tickle his fingers as you continue to speak. “A part of me is still a little angry. But I can’t stay away from you. Merlin, one week away from you and all I could think about were your kisses, and how kind you are.”

“So you’ll take me back?”

“Of course, my love.”

Then you’re kissing him, warming his cold lips and melting him from the inside out. You’re gentle, cradling his hands between yours and being so so loving. He feels like he could cry. He’s never felt this loved before, not by his parents, not by his friends, heck, not by his brother. 

“I love you,” It's the first time he’s ever whispered those words, but it feels right. Everything about you and him feels right. 

“I love you too.”

[eyelessfaces]

out of sight, out of mind

poe dameron x reader

this fic is the prequel to better safe than sorry. therefore it doesn't really matter if you haven't read it because it's a PREquel, but then you know what to read next :)

better safe than sorry masterlist

summary: saying that you're terrified at the idea of losing someone you love again is an understatement. poe dameron happens to be the most reckless person you know.

warnings: reader has trauma and ptsd, mentions of death, angst (I mean, a lot), mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption

tags: f!reader, absolute idiots in love, friends to lovers, poe is in love, reader makes questionable choices but she has trauma okay, poe is so very sweet in this and it has me screaming, fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 7.1k (personal record for a one shot, wow)

huge thanks to @eatingyouryoung for beta reading and for motivating me, supporting me and most of all bearing with me and the multiple mental breakdowns I had while writing this. love you bestie, thank you, really. <3

masterlist | taglist | ao3

There are moments where it’s only those memories, only those flashbacks clouding your mind and filling up the space for any other thoughts in your head. It eats everything else and doesn’t leave room to breathe, it engulfs everything on its way.

It is impressive how just a few minutes can determine the rest of your life, it is impressive how fast it can eat up everything else that matters.

It can play in your head over and over again when it wants to, like somebody’s favorite holo movie, rewatched when you should be asleep after a long and tiring day, and sometimes you get flashes of it during the day, even if you’re busy and should not be thinking about something other than what you’re currently doing, as if the images were screaming at you that hey, they existed.

You knew all too well that they existed, and for some obscure reason, you didn’t want to forget them. 

You should want them to fade away, to disappear completely, to vanish into oblivion until nothing is left of that day, but something inside of you sticks there, holds onto those few minutes and doesn’t want to let go. 

You don’t want the images to shatter into pieces, you don’t want it to be pooling at your feet like something you know you’re never going to be able to put back together. You don’t want to let go of it, you don’t want to let go of your last memory of her.

These moments aren’t present really often, at least not as much as before, but when they are they’re omnipresent and always remind you of how afraid you are at even just the thought of losing someone again.

Right now is one of those moments, the images play in the back of your mind again, it has become a regular occurrence for them to manifest themselves at the least convenient moments. Maybe Jess was right, maybe you should go see a professional so they could help you manage the manifestation of those memories.

The only thing faintly keeping you connected to reality is Poe’s voice mixing with the scene inside your head as you watch him speak, and even though it’s muffled and his words are barely distinguishable, it’s your only anchor, and you know that if you focus hard enough, it will bring you right back where you are, in the briefing room where he’s explaining everything concerning how the previous mission went and how things could have gone easier for everyone, tactically speaking. 

You do and it works, and you’re back just in time to catch Poe’s gaze sticking to yours, a small wink directed your way drawing a wide and foolish smile from you before he looks away, leaving a heat creeping up your cheeks. 

You’re barely able to focus for the rest of the meeting because of that simple thing, making it so you haven’t listened to any of it at all. 

He dismisses everyone, chatter filling the room before it emigrates out of it, and you wait for him to be done talking with someone and he joins you.

“Hey” he smiles, walking out the room beside you, his arm wrapping around you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks as he tilts his head to take a look at your face.

You hum positively, or you hope it sounds positive, and you look up at him with a small smile to prove your point. “Just tired” you shrug.

His lips pinch in a compassionate smile, and his hand shifts from your shoulder to bury into your hair. 

"Wanna come over tonight?" he asks cocking an eyebrow. "Just you, me, a bottle and my quarters"

"Is it really that obvious that I'm not feeling well?" you ask stopping in your steps with a small sigh, looking up at him.

He snorts, shrugging. "Obvious I don’t know, but I know you better than yourself" he chuckles, his hand shifting to your arm so he can squeeze you against himself. "So is that a yes?"

"It sure is" you smile, and he mirrors it before leaving a kiss at the top of your head.

—

Your eyes are watery from the alcohol, and you can feel the dizziness starting to manifest itself as you can see that your vision is slowly starting to delay like a screen's bad frame rate.  

"So" Poe starts, taking the bottle from your hands. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks finally coming to the subject you've been thoroughly avoiding before, taking care of telling him about your day. 

He brings the bottle to his mouth, frowning at the small shrug you offer him in response. He swallows the liquid as he raises his chin at you, handing you back the bottle. “It’s fine if you don’t, but you know that I’m always here if you need someone to lis–”

“It’s her death. The memories of it”

“Oh” his eyes soften, and he shifts closer to you, still sitting crossed legged on his bed.

“They’re less and less frequent, but when they resurface it’s all there is” you pinch your lips, a single nod showing that you’re accepting your fate despite how cruel it is. "And it's still so vivid, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone loses people they love in this war, and it's almost been two years and yet I can't move on" you chuckle before drinking from the bottle, wincing at the strong taste of the drink. “I feel ridiculous”

"No one does" he nods, raising his eyebrows in a reassuring way. "No one moves on" he declares, taking the bottle from you when you hand it over. "You learn to live with it, but you never really move on." He watches as you chew on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “And this is not ridiculous at all.” he tilts his head to emphasize, putting the bottle down on his nightstand.

His hand reaches for yours, and you let him hold it. It feels warm, and his touch feels comforting, and you can feel your heart beat faster when he starts running his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand. “My mom died when I was eight, I’m a grown man and I haven’t moved on and I never will. I just had to learn to live with it.” You look up at him with compassion, but you also feel worried at the thought that it’s probably going to be a long, long way before you can recover from this experience and everything else it involves.

“But the fact that you lived and saw it makes it even harder, and you shouldn’t blame yourself for feeling stuck.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose maybe a bit too hard, as if you were trying to squeeze the images out of you. 

"I watched her die in front of me, she was right before my eyes and I had to leave her there" the words leave your mouth in a hurried and panicked, trembling plea, throat burning with the tight knot that only seems to get bigger inside as your words remind you of the moment in question, just as if you were there again, anxiety starting to loom menacingly over you again.

A soft exhale leaves Poe’s mouth as his expression turns into one of helplessness, and he gently pulls your body to his so you both lay down on the bed as he holds you close to him, your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. 

"I know baby, I know" he whispers, pressing gentle kisses to your hairline, trying to ease your trembling and labored breaths.

You’re not crying, you can’t, you feel so full yet so empty.

—

The ringing, high pitched sound in your ears doesn’t help your current state of tiredness and the growing migraine slowly but surely beginning to anchor into your head, and you can soon feel a throbbing pain hammering into your skull.

It’s fairly late and everyone on base is back to their quarters and for the most fast asleep, save for the ones like you still focused on work. You should get some sleep, you need it, you crave it, but you refuse to leave the empty room before you're done filling your report, wrapping up the paperwork session you've been at for two hours now.

You almost drop your datapad at the sudden feeling of hands over your shoulders, a shuddery gasp slipping from your mouth. It wakes you up a little, your current fatigue making the effect of surprise even more intense, your heart thrumming into your ribcage and reverberating inside your whole body.

The momentary panic fades away when Poe walks around to the desk in front of yours, revealing that it's only him as your eyes follow him as you're trying to catch your breath, a relieved smile growing upon your face. You haven’t seen him since yesterday, both of you drowning under a crushing pile of work. You feel awful when you remember the state you were in, but you also remember that it’s Poe so he doesn’t mind and above all, he’s not one to judge.

"Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you" his lips quirk in a soft smile as both of his hands grasp onto the back of the chair in front of you.

"S'okay, I just didn't expect any visit this late. Why aren't you sleeping?" you ask as you put the datapad down on the desk, looking up at him as you sink back into your chair, crossing your arms. 

“Why aren’t you” he asks as he cocks an eyebrow, almost as if accusing you of the same crime.

You sigh as you raise your eyebrows, taking a hold of the tablet you put down not too long ago. “Well Leia will kick my ass if I don’t fill out all of this, and she kinda scares me when she gets mad, so I’m stuck here until I’m done with paperwork”

“I don’t blame you for that” he snorts. "Need some company?" he asks as he pulls the chair from under the desk.

"I'm almost done but sure" you declare, pointing your hand towards his chair to offer him to stay with you.

He sits down, a slight clinking sound resonating through the empty room when he puts his feet up on the desk. 

You dive back into work, and he would have so many things to tell you about his day but he knows that you're desperate to finish what you're doing so he instead just looks at you, drinking in any movement of yours, even the littlest, admiring the way you look when you're focused, smiling at the way you bite down onto your lip in concentration all while he absent-mindedly fiddles with the ring attached to the chain around his neck.

It doesn’t take too long for you to finish your work and for Poe to escort you back to your quarters, finally getting to tell you about his day while on the way. 

You’re disappointed when you see you’re already there, and if you weren’t so tired you would have invited him inside so you could keep chatting. 

“You still haven’t answered my question” you say as you stop in front of your door, turning on your feet so you could face him, stopping him in the middle of his story about BB-8’s checkup.

“What question?” he frowns, a confused expression taking over his face, lowkey nervous that he forgot about something important.

“Why you’re not asleep.”

“Oh. I was revising details for tomorrow’s last minute mission" he nods as he crosses his arms, leaning his side against the wall.

“Last minute mission?” you repeat, your eyebrows slightly rising in curiosity.

He nods as he pinches his lips. “I’m leaving for a few days. Our contact found something interesting about the First Order, and I have to see this with my own eyes” 

“Be careful” you nod once, the inner corner of your eyebrows angling up in worry, and he can see in your eyes that you’re pleading him. He’s not the most cautious recruit on base, far from that, but he knows what’s good for his cause, even if he sometimes has to pay the price, but you also happen to be more important than his constant desire for recklessness. 

“I will, promised. Goodnight sweetheart.” he smiles softly as he stands in front of you.

“Goodnight Poe.” He turns to his feet, ready to leave, but you grab onto his wrist before he can. He turns to you, eyebrows raised, awaiting anything from you. “Thank you for yesterday. I really needed someone to talk to.” you nod, with a tired but genuine smile.

He smiles back at you, the corner of his eyes crinkling softly.

He leaves a quick kiss at your cheek before leaving, and you wait for him to be out of sight to finally go inside your quarters, and you can’t tell if the sigh leaving your mouth is one of longing or relief.

—

You’re sprinting through the base hallways, and even though it’s really not an uncommon thing to do there, you feel stupid for being in such a rush hoping that he isn’t gone yet. 

Once you arrive in the hangar, catching your breath, it is flooded with orange jumpsuits, making it hard to recognize anyone if they’re not directly facing you, but you just happen to spot the little droid that indicates that Poe’s not far away.

Poe’s eyes light up when you approach and he realizes you’re here to say goodbye, and you shake your head as you walk up to him, almost sprinting once you’re close.

“You do anything risky, I’ll kill you” you threaten as you throw yourself into his arms, the end of your sentence muffled against him.

“Okay. Where's my goodbye kiss?” he asks as he lets his hand rest at the back of your head, and he smirks when he hears your muffled chuckle.

“if you come back without a single scratch,” you start, pulling away from the embrace, looking back at him. “You’ll have a welcome home kiss.” 

His right eyebrow rises in interest, and a sly smirk grows over his face. 

“Now that’s an interesting deal.”

You point a finger to his chest, the tip pressing against it, your head slightly tilting to the side, looking right into his eyes.

“Not.” you push your finger deeper. “A.” deeper again, and—

“–Scratch, yes.” he completes your sentence, taking a hold of your hand, closing it into a fist and pressing it against his chest.

“That’s right. I’ll check” you tease, your other pointer finger pressuring him.

He snorts, “I’d love to show you every single part of my–” his voice quietens as he suddenly looks down at his feet, at the circular droid nudging him. “Yeah buddy” he looks back up at you. “I should get going”

“Alright. Goodbye handsome, be careful” you smile, and he bites down on his lip as he lets go of your hand before starting to walk backwards. 

“You gave me a reason to be, I will be” he shouts from a distance, pointing back at you as he walks away, towards his ship. 

—

The few days he had announced to be the time where he would be gone transformed into a whole week, and though you were busy every night either with work or with friends, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing at random moments of the evening. 

Thankfully feedback from coms said that everyone was okay and that the mission was going exactly as planned, so your state of worry was greatly diminished.

You still couldn’t stop thinking about him and you hated yourself for being so attached to Poe Dameron, but at the same time how could you not when he acted the way he did around you.

You were walking around base with friends when you heard word from a passing group of people that Poe’s squadron had gotten back from their mission, and even though it was getting late and you could wait see him the next day or whenever you would run into him next, the curiosity and apprehension to find out whether he had gotten injured or not took over you.

You apologized to your friends for having to leave them, and hurriedly made your way through the base to join the hangar.

Once you arrive there the scene in front of you is pretty much the same as when you joined Poe before he left; a sea of orange figures, ships on the ground, metallic sounds and indistinct chatter filling the room. 

Poe sees you before you see him and rushes towards you, a sly smirk over his face as he sprints across the hangar, and the moment you finally see him is the exact same moment you want to warn him about the ship wing that’s about to– 

It hits his head with a loud thud.

A yelp that quickly transforms into a groan escapes his mouth, both of his hands covering and pushing against the area of impact as he momentarily curls up on himself in place because of the sudden pain. 

Your mouth is gaping in shock before you sprint to join him.

“Fuck are you okay?” you ask hastily, a nervous chuckle leaving your mouth as your hand rests at his back while his eyes are shut tight, his hand grabbing onto your arm.

“Yeah I’m okay, I’m okay” he nods, his other hand still clinging onto his forehead. He sighs a curse word under his breath, shaking his head as he frowns before he snorts.

“I was uninjured before this.” he chuckles as he looks at you, a skeptic smile over his face. “Not a scratch”

“Mh? Well that’s too bad.” you tease, putting your hand over his shoulder. “Come on, medbay.”

“No no that’s fine I’m o–” 

“Nuh uh I don’t wanna hear it, we’re going to medbay” you insist, pulling onto his arm, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head towards the direction of interest.

Poe reluctantly goes to medbay with you, the medics check him up rather quickly, and everything turns out to be okay; you only have to stay there sitting face to face to hold a cold pad to his forehead to prevent a bump from appearing.

“So, how’d the mission go?”

“Great. Couldn’t have been better. Got into some ambushes but we crushed them” he smiles. “And not a scratch, nothing” he nods proudly.

“See, you can make efforts when you’re interested in the promised outcome” you chuckle, shifting in place so you could get a better position to hold the pad over his forehead. 

He winces, “S’cold as fuck”

“That’s the point” you huff out a laugh, and he smacks your thigh playfully in response.

“So” he starts, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. “Can I get my price?” he asks, a sly smirk growing over his face.

“...I don’t know” you hum, a fake skeptic expression over your face. It’s hard to refrain from smiling when you see his semi-pouty face, “You technically didn’t respect the conditions.”

“What? It shouldn’t count!” he starts bargaining like a child that has been wrongly accused for something their sibling did, and you huff out a small laugh seeing how he reacts to you simply teasing him.

“I mean, you got hurt” you shrug.

“The mission was over”

“I told you to come back uninjured, mission or not, or else what's the point”

“Fair enough, but you didn’t specify beforehand”

“Well, now you know” you say, a small exhale leaving your mouth when you get up from your seat, and Poe doesn’t waste any second to follow you, tossing the cold pad onto the nearest surface.

“Alright, okay, but now I want a second chance at this so it’s fair game” he bargains, following you closely when you exit the medbay.

"Alright, alright" you agree as you turn back to him. "Come on now, you need to rest" you turn to your feet again, towards the hallway extending before you.

He remains standing in place when you start walking again, just looking at you and pondering. It takes him a few seconds before he catches up and joins you again, walking by your side.

The both of you are silent for most of the walk to Poe's quarters; it's pretty uncommon for Poe to remain quiet for more than thirty seconds, and it has you thinking.

"You really want your kiss, huh?" you ask rhetorically, stopping in your steps and turning to him once you're in front of his door.

He pauses, and takes a look at you before answering. "Of course I do" he chuckles, and you nod as your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

Poe barely has time to process you getting substantially closer to him before you grab the collar of his flight suit and put your lips over his, gently pushing him against the wall. 

The quarter of second it takes for him to fully be aware of what's happening leaves him sighing against your mouth, and once he's sure that it’s all real, his hand cradles the back of your head, pulling you even closer. 

His other hand rests at your hip, your own hands leaving his collar and resting at the back of his neck, and low hum vibrating against your mouth when your fingers bury into his short curls there.

You pull away just for a second before he yanks you towards him, kissing you back with even more vigor.

His lips are warm and pressed tight against yours, the heat of his body feeling omnipresent even though you're the one caging him.

You smile at the sight of the starstruck expression left over his face when you pull away, and your heart sinks at the way his warm eyes look at you. 

“I was messing with you, I always keep my promises” you tease with a grin as you start to back away, your hands behind your back, giving him space again.

“Admit it, you didn’t want to be kind to me, you just wanted to do it” he smirks, a teasing tone in his voice before he bites down onto his bottom lip. “You wanted to kiss me”

You smirk back at him, shrugging before turning onto your feet and leaving for good, retracing your steps.

Poe stares at you leaving until you're out of sight, and he can't help but smile to himself when he enters the code to his quarters, still not fully believing what just happened.

You, you should feel overjoyed, but you can’t help but acknowledge that bittersweet feeling starting to get to you as you’re walking back to your quarters and being faced with reality again, your mind starting to overfill with too many thoughts; you’re getting too attached. 

—

You toss and turn in your bed, and all you’re able to do instead of sleeping is hating yourself for kissing Poe, for certainly making him feel like this meant that you were ready to give him what he had been wanting from you for so long.

You do have feelings for him, and that’s where the problem is; you can not love anyone, and certainly not someone as reckless and impulsive as him, not someone you could lose technically so easily. 

You can’t go through this again, you know you wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of his loss.

Maybe it’s selfish, maybe you’re making the biggest mistake of your life – no; you’re sure of that – but you’re also sure that you wouldn't be able to handle enduring this again; the simple thought crushes you.

You toss and turn in your bed, and while Poe is certainly delighted of what happened, you hate that you’re going to have to distance yourself from him because you fucked everything up.

—

It has been a week since you and Poe had kissed, and it seemed like you were thoroughly trying to avoid him ever since, hurrying out of the room after every briefing, taking advantage of the crowd and of the people wanting to talk details with the commander. 

You happened to never eat at the same time as him anymore, and you were nowhere to be found when he looked for you in places he knew you would usually be.

Poe was left confused, and even though he had a lot of work and technically other things to think about, the fact that he couldn’t catch you to talk even just for five minutes was bothering him and leaving him wondering if he had done something wrong, especially with what happened last time.

He had thought this kiss would change things between you, would lead you somewhere and that he would finally get what he had wanted for ages; you.

He knew it was no coincidence that you wouldn't stop ignoring his presence, that you wouldn't maintain eye contact through the briefing room for more than two seconds; that you wouldn’t run into him anymore; he knew he had been just a fool, too stupid to think that this could lead him somewhere, lead the both of you somewhere, that you would feel the same way he felt for you.

—

You took it as a sign that your friends had understood something was wrong when they practically dragged you to go get some drinks, and while you weren’t particularly in the mood to do that, you had to admit that you needed some distraction.

You needed to be busy in order to avoid thinking too much, to avoid getting too deep into your own head, because you knew that if you did you would break.

And the distraction technique actually works; you’re having a good time, chatting and laughing, forgetting about everything else going on besides that, and it feels really good, the illusion feels good.

There comes a time when you start to feel the drinks you’ve downed, the slight drunkenness starting to manifest itself as well as your need to pee.

You're still in a pretty good shape, drinkingly speaking; you're not fully drunk yet, just tipsy – the feeling is still pleasant, and you just have to stop for a second to maintain balance on your feet when you get up from your seat to join the cantina's bathroom.

The room is empty when you go and lock yourself into a stall, and the muffled music gets clearer when a group of people enter the room seconds later, their loud and high pitched laughs almost fully covering the sound of the loud music before it gets muffled again.

“So” one of the girls starts as she recovers from her laugh, “How’d last night end?” she asks, and the question elicits curious gasps from the other girls of the group.

“Yeah, we didn’t see you after you left the room with Commander Dameron” another girl teases, putting emphasis on the rank and last name, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.

Well. Try to forget about something and it’s shoved into your face right back away.

This catches your interest nonetheless, and you make sure to wait a little before you wipe yourself, not wanting to miss a beat of the conversation.

"Well," another girl starts, the girl who you assume is the girl who left the room with Commander Dameron. 

"We were both drunk and it was sloppy but damn is he good at it” she declares proudly, a fit of giggles filling the room.

Oh.

She's talking about something else, right? 

This can't possibly be, right?

Right?

"No way you slept with a commander, Jana. This is like a special success, something to check off a list" one of them chuckles.

"Sure did." Jana replies, and this is cliché and a bit not-feminist but you can just imagine her putting another layer of gloss on her lips.

Fuck.

It's with a half lie about not feeling well that you leave your friends and go home to your quarters, trying to repress the tight knot in your throat when you don’t even bother to change into your sleeping clothes and curl up into your bed.

—

The next briefings after that are awkward and feel delicate, and even though they already were before, you now can not look at Poe without internally wanting to scream and break something.

You hurry out the room faster than before if it’s even possible, and you need to be constantly distracted and busy with something in order not to think about him and all of your current situation with him.

You make your way out of the seemingly way-too-busy room once more, apologizing as you slalom through the crowd of people, an exhale of relief escaping once you get some relatively fresh air in the hallway.

“Hey” your heart jumps when you recognize Poe’s voice as he grabs your arm, and you sigh softly when you’re forced to turn to him. He must have disregarded everyone’s questions to exit the briefing room that quickly. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why do you barely even look at me?” he asks, and his voice slightly cracks at the middle of his sentence. He’s not fully scolding you, he genuinely wants answers.

A soft exhale leaves your mouth, and you can feel and hear your heart starting to beat fast in your ears.

“Did you sleep with Jana?”

The question is dropped like a bomb, and you know it’s going to have the effect of a bomb no matter what happens – it’s going to destroy everything, but at this point there isn’t really anything left to lose, nothing left to save either, it’s all doomed.

You already know the answer, you already know he’s going to respond positively because he’s an honest man and definitely not a liar; it’s something you have always appreciated in him.

“I–” he is speechless, and his mouth is gaping, trying to come up with anything to say though he knows damn well what he has to say if he wants to be honest with you, even if it’s going to ruin everything, until– “Yes.”

You expected it, and yet it still hurts. 

You had secretly hoped that the girl in the cantina bathroom had made that lie up to impress her friends, and you deep down knew she hadn’t, but you somehow buried yourself deep into denial, thinking that hoping otherwise would somehow manifest the truth to be different.

“I can’t wait for you forever. I don’t want to.” 

Immediately and like a reflex your eyes close, your lips pinch and you nod, trying to ignore the sick feeling bubbling inside your chest though it’s impossible. 

It hurts, everything hurts, nothing will ever be the same with him and it’s entirely your fault, you brought it upon yourself.

He’s not yours after all, and you made sure of that, so you shouldn’t be upset, you shouldn’t feel your heart sink. It’s not legitimate.

“You know that’s not what I meant” he starts again, the inner corner of his eyebrows angling up in compassion when he sees your reaction. “I could wait for you forever.” he nods, a bittersweet smile over his face. “But you’re making me feel like a fool. I don’t want to feel like a fool forever” he nods one last time as his lips pinch to repress something, and you can see his eyes glistening a bit, and your heart aches at the sight.

You bite down on your lip trying to contain your frustration, or your growing state of misery; you’re not sure, and all you’re able to reply is just–

“Okay.”

It’s bland, cold and dry, but it’s truly all that can come out.

You don’t have the heart to bargain and beg for your cause, and it would feel unfair and dishonest for him anyways.

“I’m sorry” Poe immediately says, and you feel bad that he is the one to be sorry, that he feels like he is the bad guy in that whole story when all of this is entirely your fault.

“No, no, I am. I get it” you try to reassure him, forcing a small smile out of you, still trying to make it seem like you’re doing fine, though you know there’s no use trying to when he knows you so well. 

You can’t stay here any longer or you will break, and you don’t have anything left to say anyways, not when you know it probably has to end that way.

You leave as fast as you left the briefing room earlier, and Poe feels sick when he watches you go, feels the need to puke when his head somehow fills with every memory you’ve ever made with him.

You’re glad your back is facing him when you have to frantically wipe away the single tear rolling down your cheek.

—

It feels strange not having Poe in your life anymore, at least not properly; and it's probably worse that way, the fact that he's still around and that you're still often being confronted to each other, forced to pretend not to care about each other.

It hurts that he's now back to being "just" a commander to you, a colleague, that you're both back to being basically strangers, that the eye contacts don't linger anymore and just leave a bitter feeling lodged inside your chest when they used to leave butterflies in your stomach.

Your heart aches every time you catch a glimpse of him, and it’s hard trying to stay focused when you work around him, go on missions with him. 

You feel terrible for what you’ve done to him, you feel sick that he feels like he's been played with when all you wanted to do was protect yourself, you feel bad that he has to be collateral damage. 

You truly hope he doesn’t hate you, and you think that this might be your biggest fear.

That the only man that has ever truly believed in you, that the man that you love could hate you, even if he has all the reasons in the world to and you wouldn’t blame him if he did. 

Now is not the time to think about it, because you've been assigned and sent on a mission with him, and you're kinda thankful it's not the kind of mission that only requires two people and you just happen to be paired with him – you're thankful people are with you for this one.

It should be an easy mission, you just have to get something back.

A smuggler had stolen something that was supposed to get sent to the Resistance, but the guy happened to be tougher and more skilled than expected, and the logical solution to get back up on this was to get the Resistance itself.

You’re making your way through a quiet alley bathed in darkness, following the target from a distance, observing each of his movements to calculate how you could get an opening so you could get to him and steal – no, get back what’s yours.

Your group has split up, everyone trying to join the guy from different points and accesses across the area. 

If all goes well you can surround him in case you don’t have the opportunity to attack before, and technically he shouldn’t be able to get away, at least not until you have taken back what he has stolen.

You're doing pretty good so far, the guy hasn’t noticed he is being followed, so you have been able to gradually get closer and you're so close to being able to attack and if you could just shoot him in the leg and get back what's yours–

You're suddenly and abruptly yanked out from the main alley, and even before you can react at what’s happening and scream in surprise and fear, a hand pushes over and blocks your mouth, the other hand wrapping tight around your waist, your back pressed flush against your assailant's chest as their own back rests against the wall of the small, secluded alley you’ve been pulled in.

Your eyes look around in fear, your head unable to move, blocked by the strong hand covering your mouth; you want to scream, trying to wriggle out of whoever's grasp you're trapped in, panic starting to creep up your chest, until–

"Calm down, don't panic, it's only me." the soft and gentle whisper of Poe's voice in your ear makes you relax in his grasp, waves of relief washing over you. "He knows that we're following him, he was waiting for you to get closer to trap you" he explains, and you start to loosen up when his hand leaves your mouth and he lets go of you. “Sorry I scared you”

“Thank you” you nod as you face him, your hands resting over your knees as you catch your breath from the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline.

Your eyes widen and you look back at Poe when you hear a fight starting not so far away from where you are, shouts and sounds of blasters firing.

“I’ll go” he declares, hastily taking off his jacket. “Stay there and keep this for me, will you? You were shivering while I was holding you” he smirks teasingly, throwing you his leather jacket.

You chuckle as you catch and look down at the piece of cloth, and he waits for you to put it on to shoot you a smile before leaving, not even giving you time to beg him to be careful and not do anything stupid.

At least you’re now certain that he most definitely does not hate you.

—

Poe is sitting in the grass on a hill not so far away from base, looking up at the starry sky, just enjoying the fresh air of D'Qar. It feels nice after the particularly busy and tiring day he just had, his muscles still sore and tense from the mission, especially the muscles joining his neck and shoulders. 

“Hey” the sudden sound of your voice tears him out of his thoughts, and he even thinks he hallucinated it before he turns to you.

“Hey” he pinches a smile as he looks up at you.

“I wanted to give you your jacket back” you say as you look down at the jacket you’re currently wearing, and you must admit that you’re a bit reluctant at the idea of having to give it back – it smells just like him, a mix of his natural comforting scent and his aftershave, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever been to him in your life.

“Oh. No need to, you can keep it, you look good in it” he smiles wide, and you scoff softly.

"Alright. Can I?” you ask, referring to sitting down next to him.

“Hm? Sure” he nods, patting on the grass. You sit down next to him and watch him as he looks in front of him, admiring the view extending before him. The sky is pretty, the stars are especially bright tonight.

"Thank you again for earlier. And… I'm sorry for even earlier" you say, and his gaze drops down to his lap. "I'm sorry I was being an asshole and I made you feel like an idiot just because I don't know how to deal with my emotions." He looks back up in front of him, and you're scared when he doesn’t say anything and just stares ahead, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Can you forgive me?"

His face turns to you, and he nods, a pinched, awkward smile over his face. "Of course. Of course I can"

You can't help a relieved smile from forming over your face, and you look at the stars for a moment before looking back at him. He looks almost heavenly, bathed in the stars' light.

“You know I love you, right? Poe, please tell me you do.” you ask, almost beg, still scared that he could believe the opposite. 

"I do. I know it" he nods softly, looking at you. He pauses before continuing, as if he was thinking of the right words to say. "But I don't want you to feel forced to be with me if you're not ready yet" he continues, and his hand rests over your thigh as he looks at you sternly, wanting to show you that he means it.

Your heart sinks at how considerate he is, even after how you've been treating him, but you're not even surprised; he's the kindest, most gentle man you've ever met, you have always known this.

"I can wait for you, and I will, I'm not going anywhere." he looks down at your thigh when your hand covers his, and he looks back up at you. "I mean it."

It shouldn't have the effect it has, because you've never wanted him as much as you do now, but you have been wanting him for long anyways so it doesn't really change anything. 

“I’m terrified of losing you.” you mutter under your breath, saying this as if you were justifying yourself though you know you don’t have to.

“And why would you lose me?” he asks, almost sure it's a rhetorical question, his hand moving so it could grab yours. His fingers intertwine with yours and the gesture makes a chill run down your spine, you're sure it's not the fresh breeze of the night.

“You’re the most impulsive and reckless person I’ve ever met, Poe. That might simultaneously be your biggest blessing and flaw” you smile softly.

He scoffs. “But I’m also the best pilot in the Resistance, so…” he tries to reassure you with a fake sly smirk, for once, holding tighter onto your hand. “Trust me, will you? I know it’s hard for you, I know what you’ve gone through and I know what you're scared of but I promise you that we’ll be okay.” he nods, and you happen to believe him, he is able to do that.

"You don't have to wait for me, then" you declare, your head resting over his shoulder. He smiles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaving a kiss at the top of your head before his rests over yours.

You will love him anyways, you will be terrified anyways, and if you have to live with the fear that everything could stop suddenly, you would rather do it by his side.

—

if this flops and if I get no feedback on this I will scream, cry, break something and consider retiring from writing so if you've read all of this please give me feedback or a comment or a reblog I'm literally begging you on my knees........

better safe than sorry masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

star wars masterlist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

[lakesparkles]

hii!!! would you be willing to do a little doodle of your nega ramona and gideon interacting? understandable if you don't take requests I'm just in LOVE with your design of her and your au in general!!! feel free to also use this ask to elaborate about the au more instead because id love to hear that too :D

Hi!! :D

Honestly, I wasn't going to draw this request today (I'm afraid I'm drawing Gideon too much lately lmao sorry, he just can't leave my mind). But I got some pretty weird comments on this AU of mine that made me kinda sad... so I kept rereading this ask to cheer me up and I'm very thankful you like her and this AU!! It really means a lot in this moment!

Now, the important part, yes, I take requests and I love this one:

Just a few things make Gideon feel uneasy. She's one of them. Not because he thinks she might be a ghost, but because she looks too similar to Ramona.

And more about the AU:

I would like to say I finally started writing a fanfiction about it and I'm close to finish the first chapter ^^

It'll be seven chapters long and it'll be hard to write ngl, I never wrote something like this before, usually my fics are cute ship things.

I can share the first scene:

Ramona and Gideon - I . . . She decides to leave one last time Or

Ramona remembers the seven reasons that made her fall in love with Gideon

She had that same fantasy every day. As she walked down the halls, running her fingers along the wall, she imagined herself entering her own room. It was satisfying, somehow. She could perfectly see herself opening her wardrobe, taking out the few things that really interested her, putting everything in her bag and simply walking away. In that fantasy, of course, she always smiled. She even laughed. That kind of hysterical and cathartic laughter only present in films. She wanted to imagine how Gideon would react: how long would it be before he realized she wasn't there anymore? Two weeks? And when would he realize that this wasn't just another one of her "famous tantrums"? Two months? Two years? Part of her was almost excited at the prospect of making him furious with such an accomplishment. It would be his turn to take endless turns through the halls, finally using his brain to try to understand what had gone so wrong between them. Maybe he would find out years later. Or perhaps that doubt would eat away at him for decades to come, the bitterness of her image never leaving his mind. And part of her… thought that wasn't realistic. She knew Gideon well enough to know that he would never even consider any mistake on his part, with a mixture of confusion that never ended well when it came to him. Or worst. He wouldn't even care about her lack of presence in that house. Therefore, Ramona released her fingers from the wall, slowly slowing down her steps until she stopped altogether. Then the fantasy ended. Every single time.

[anincompletelist]

HAPPY SUNDAY! :D

and THANK YOU to @kiwiana-writes for the tag as always! i am SO excited for everything you’ve got in the works ;)

usually i post in the late afternoon but i wanted to get a jump on this so i could tag more of you instead of waiting until the last minute!! (tags below the cut!)

full disclosure: this is not at ALL six or seven sentences hskshdk. but i wrote this scene that i’ve been struggling with for WEEKS for bridesmaids fic yesterday and i adore it? so i wanted to share?? BUT i put a cut so it won’t clog up your dashes 🫶🏼

i hope you’re all doing well and having a wonderful sunday so far! :D

xx

+

For the briefest of moments, Henry considers it. Considers leaning forward and kissing him, tasting the remnants of Fideuà and fine wine on his lips. Considers cradling Alex’s face in his hands and stroking his thumbs over those pretty, high cheekbones, laying his fingers on summer-flushed, freckled soft skin. Considers giving in, just this once, and finding out what it’d be like to kiss someone because he wants to and not just because he feels like it might not happen again so he should take whatever he can get.

He glances back up to Alex’s eyes and places a careful hand over his where it’s still gripping at his shoulder and squeezes lightly, a question and a half-composed promise.

Then, before he can make a decision, Alex is barreling into him so hard that Henry bounces off the counter behind him, scrambling to get an arm around Alex’s body. And it’s— he’s crying.

Henry freezes, glancing around hopelessly at the empty kitchen, Ellen and Leo’s fond bickering over the movie and June’s laughter still echoing from the living room.

“Shh,” he placates softly, snapping into motion, one hand on the back of Alex’s head and the other running up and down the length of his back. “Alex, it’s alright.”

Alex only sobs harder, both of his fists now clutching at handfuls of Henry’s shirt at his hips, his tears soaking into Henry’s shoulder where his hand had been moments before. He’s mumbling something but Henry can’t make it out, frantically checking the doorway to make sure that no one walks in and sees them — sees Alex like this.

“Alex, love, what’s wrong?” he says softly, trying to get a hand between them to dry some of the tears on his cheeks.

He shakes his head into Henry’s chest and grips at him more harshly, drawing in a hiccuping breath every few moments in between sobs. Squeezing his own eyes shut, Henry puts his chin on top of his head and hugs him back, swaying them gently side to side until he begins to breathe more normally again.

His hands are shaking as he slowly disentangles his fingers from Henry’s shirt, moving them from his hips up to his chest, pushing back just enough that Henry can see him properly. There are thick tears clinging to his lashes, his lower lip still trembling, and the image sends a flaming dagger straight into Henry’s chest. He decides, with a shocking amount of resolution, that he never wants to see Alex like this ever again.

Tentatively, Henry raises a hand and presses it to his cheek now that he can, swiping at the moisture. “What can I do?”

Strangely blank, Alex’s eyes find his and he blinks, once, and Henry traces a finger over the angry line in his forehead and his furrowed brow until the pressure eases. Alex sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and swallows, his fingers spreading out over Henry’s pulse.

“Por favor no me las quites,” Alex whispers, his voice thin and broken, his eyes stunningly earnest.

Henry swallows dryly. He’s got no idea what that means but it seems important, and Alex is clinging to him like he may dissolve if he lets go. He slides his fingers through Alex’s again until his grip relaxes and meets his eye.

“Okay,” he says. He holds Alex’s hand to his chest and does his best to breathe deeply and evenly, staying perfectly still until Alex’s breathing mimics his own. “Okay, Alex.”

+

OKAY if you’ve made it this far THANK YOU but also i would of course like to be privy to what any of y’all have to share @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @inexplicablymine @happiness-of-the-pursuit @affectionatelyrs @tintagel-or-cockleshells @firstsprinces @magicandarchery @wordsofhoneydew @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and anyone else that would like to participate!! please tag me! 🫶🏼

[oingomyboingos]

Here’s my submission for bonus round 1 of @yuriolympics

FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY

SHIP: franmaya [Franziska von Karma/Maya Fey]

In response to this prompt for a star trek AU

I thought it would be so fun for Maya’s psychic powers to be flipped into Betazoid’s emotional ESP. Franziska is a Vulcan because of her somewhat rigid beliefs. I imagine she went to the Vulcan Science Academy before deciding to become an ambassador. Manfred von Karma’s pressure on her to succeed might mirror Sarek and Spock. While she hungers to succeed and puts up a logical, perfectly non-emotional front, Maya’s Betazoid powers are able to sense past that into what she’s truly feeling.

I don’t have enough time or energy to write a full fic about this, but here’s what I imagine their first interaction would look like that leads up to the scene in the drawing: Franziska boards the Federation ship Maya is serving aboard to get to some sort of diplomatic rendezvous location, and en route they encounter some sort of unknown alien threat that leaves them isolated from the rest of the crew. Perhaps Maya tries using her powers to understand the pain of some alien creature, and Franziska has to mind meld with her to relieve the mental and physical stress. They’re able to save the day and get back onboard, and Franziska is planning on ignoring the whole thing to suppress the strange feelings of connection she experienced. Maya corners her and has the conversation depicted in the drawing. They go to Ten Forward for their date and have a lovely time.

[ALT ID: the image depicts two women drawn in the art style of star trek lower decks. on the left, a caption in the star trek title font says “Betazoid Starfleet Counselor Maya Fey.” On the right, also in the star trek title font, says “Vulcan Ambassador Ziska V’Nkarm” a stylized version of Franziska von Karma’s name from Ace Attorney. Maya wears a purple body suit similar to those work by Deanna Troi in Star Trek TNG, as well as her in-game hairstyle and magatama beaded necklace. She stands with one hand on her hip and looks sassily at Ziska. Franziska wears gray trousers and a high necked blue vest with gold diamond buttons over a puffy sleeved white top. She holds a Star Trek TNG era padd in her right hand and looks at it to avoid eye contact with Maya. She blushes green because she is Vulcan. Two chibi drawings near her head show her internal emotions “she’s so frustrating! but so hot?” The dialogue between the two reads:

Ziska: Behavior that does not follow logic is…foolish.

Maya: For a logical Vulcan, you sure are emitting a lot of defensiveness.

Franziska: …

Maya: …Emotion isn’t a weakness, Ambassador V’Nkarm.

Ziska: …

Maya: And yes, I am free this Saturday <3

ID ends/]

[mousegard]

You write first person getting fucked up scenes so good, you put a lot of detail into it and I was wondering if there was any particular reason?

Like the multiple scenes in your fics whether it be Adrestian Tail or Eagle among Lions of specifically Edelgard being met with an untimely demise and being saved by a byleth rewind are some of my favorite scenes.

Like in EAL the arrow scene it could have just been something like a cut to the rewind but you put in the effort to make us imagine what getting an arrow through the eye and slipping towards death would feel like alongside Edelgard. You go that extra mile, you want us to experience that for a reason and I love it about your writing!

thank you! i'm so glad you enjoy that aspect of my writing because those sorts of scenes are some of my favorite to write!

when i write, i have a very clear mental image of what's going on playing in my head like a movie, and the way i do prose is to try to capture those images with as much detail as possible. and because prose isn't as suited to describing how something looks as drawings are, the most effective way to capture those images is to translate them into how things feel.

so with scenes of people getting fucked up, whether it's grievous wounds and fatal injuries or body horror, i try to channel something like jojo's bizarre adventure where the the details of what's happening really sit with you in a very visceral and pulpy way. except obviously i can't draw like araki, or at all. but remember how it felt reading jojos and seeing things like jolyne ripping off viviano westwood's toenail in part six, heavy weather turning people into snails, or damo using his stand to melt the higashikatas in part eight? especially from part three onward, jojo's bizarre adventure has always reveled in people getting fucked up in a way that can genuinely make your stomach churn, and i wanted to write stomach-churning prose to capture how it feels for araki to depict and linger on the human reactions to seeing or experiencing those sorts of things.

remember that part of rohan kishibe's introduction in part four where he cuts open a spider and then tastes it to "understand" it better so he can capture its essence more effectively in his manga? well i haven't eaten any bugs but i think rohan's exaggerated actions convey. obviously when you're writing action and adventure stories, let alone sci-fi and fantasy, you don't have the luxury of trying some things out for yourself, but then again, i don't think araki eats bugs either, regardless of how his delightfully unhinged author stand-in behaves.

(with lizard boot camp, i might have succeeded in depicting edelgard's experiences too well, because i had one reader tell me it made them vomit. i think it was the bit with the pin feathers. they make me queasy too!)

in eal, one of the things i really enjoyed was trying to get as deep into edelgard's head as possible, since she's the sole pov for the entirety of the first act and the vast majority of the second. you're stuck in her head and you are going to get intimately acquainted with her—with her philosophies, with her romantic side, with her loneliness and grief, with her long-standing trauma, with her ratcheting paranoia as the situation around her intensifies, and with the terror and horror that comes with all the shit i put her through. i wanted the reader to feel everything she felt. especially because, like—she's edelgard, and one of the central problems with the fe3h fandom is that not enough people make the effort to understand her in the first place. and because over the course of an eagle among lions she feels so many things i doubt many people have felt before* (like how it feels to get shot in the eye, turned into a dragon, and blown out of an airlock like the xenomorph queen in aliens) i wanted to make sure the reader received enough detail to experience all those exciting, novel things along with her. and also get a new perspective on the things that are exciting and novel to her but mundane to us, like radios, computers, guns, and pizza.

i think a review of eal i got from LordXamon on the parahumans fanfic subreddit earlier this year captured everything i set out to do better than anything else i could say:

I read the story because this El is such a great MC. Not only is she super cool (again, time traveler leftist revolutionary queer empress), but the writing really makes me empathize in ways not many fanfics can. When El cries, I cry. When El is furious, I get furious. When she hurts, I wince. When El laughs, it puts a smile on my face. When she messes it up, I feel bad for her. When the body horror happens, it makes my stomach sick. When she delivers one of her speeches, it makes me want to vote for her.

in terms of my fic writing, eal really took the "people getting fucked up"-ness to the next level though, and in addition to the above reasons, part of that probably comes from pandemic madness and also me binge-watching re:zero, which delights in fucking its hero and his allies up in increasingly elaborate and gruesome ways while playing with time loops. so far, aria of the black eagle is pretty tame by comparison, so maybe i've worked some of it out of my system?

thanks again for your question and comment, i had so much fun talking about writing and this story with you!

* p.s. if you or anybody else reading this know from firsthand experience what it feels like to get tfed into a dragon, please tell me how you did it/how it happened to you

[evereverest2]

You do NOT have to answer all of these if you don't want to lmao these are just the ones that looked most interesting to me

15, 18, 23, 56, 63, 64 for Little Monster

bitch i finna answer them all i love LITTLE MONSTER SM

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

so generally i put myself in the narrative and i remember/imagine what certain things feel and look like (even though im unfortunately not a gay man) i think i’ve mentioned this before but the way i write i just see the scene like a movie. i imagine every little feeling and detail and try to cram it into the prose as much as i possibly can, and that’s especially the case with smut scenes.

for me, realism is super important. when i was first starting out and was still a virgin i read a lot of smut and therefore would just emulate what i read. experience is def the best way to know how to write something, but given that i will never be a gay man sometimes u have to do a lot of research, ask a man what it’s like to have ur pp touched, and do ur best from there

despite that, though, there is such thing as too much detail for me. there are MANY smut authors in this fandom and all corners of the internet who will give you LOTS of detail. things like the sensation of pubic hair on the tongue and descriptions each and every little pussy fold jiggling is just too much for me. sex irl is goofy and ugly even if it is hot and sexy and fun, and i often exclude the ugly gross parts bc i feel that as a reader and writer, u aren’t reading smut to know what sex is like exactly, ur reading it for the intimate and sexy aspect of it all. plus, i don’t write porn for the sake of porn, i often write it to explore a particular relationship especially as it changes, and you can 100% see that each time i write terzomega fucking in Little Monster.

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

usually after.

titling and naming things is the hardest thing for me fr. this is the girl who named her stuffed teddy bear “teddy”, her stuffed otter “otter”, her bunny/baby bunny duo “mrs bunny” and “baby,” her stuffed snake “snakey” ….. so on and so forth. i’ve never been creative with names. so what’s easiest for me is to write the whole thing out and take a certain image/idea/moment/name etc. that i want the reader to pay attention to and make that the name.

for instance, on a personal project, i named one chapter of the story “organ”. in the chapter, there is brief mention of an church organ with an unidentified musician playing it. this is one vague moment that isn’t brought up again, and it may have been missed had i not drawn attention to it with the title. the unidentified organist is a key character that appears throughout the story and is implied to have an overarching influence on the main character.

that’s just one example of how i name things. Little Monster is very similar, i want to draw extra special attention to the term ‘mostriciatto’ and the way terzo uses it throughout the story

23. Best writing advice for other writers?

just go read my post honestly. my best advice is genuinely to keep writing as often as you can.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

the characters. god i love writing characters and crafting their mannerisms and especially DIALOGUE. muah 😭💕 i think that’s the biggest reason my fics tend to hit people emotionally— characters are extremely important to me to be written well

63. Something you hate to see in smut.

yk how i mentioned too much detail?

yeah. but the line is blurry.

really what i don’t like is lack of distinctive voice/personality. sometimes smut is just really boring bc there’s no subtle interaction or implication in the dynamic being written. the characters are just vaguely tied to their canon material and given no real motivation or personality. no background. nothing.

that shit bores me and is partly why i’m not a super avid reader of fanfic anymore. finding strong narratives is hard.

oh also; infantilization. i’ve written virgins and i’ve written naive partners. DO NOT TREAT THEM LIKE TEENAGERS WHO WERE HOMESCHOOLED CATHOLIC. fuck bro. i love a story with a character having a new, exciting experience for the first time, but they aren’t fucking babies that are clueless to their bodies. most ppl masturbate/know what sex is by the time they do it for the first time (ESPECIALLY in the age of the internet).

even if they’re not virgins, infantilization is still gross for me to read. sex is an adult activity between two consenting people, not a clueless idiot who doesn’t understand sex enough to say no. i’m not down with age play. im down for sub space, but there’s a line.

can u tell what character i’m thinking ab rn?

64. Something you love to see in smut.

everything i said ab personality in the last question but reverse. i love a good fucking story (ha). smut for the sake of smut is fine bc there’s an audience for that. but i’m not the audience. give me tragedy and give me love. give me tearful sex and give me giggling, silly sex. i want to know about your version of these characters, and how they treat each other in the bedroom is absolutely indicative of their personalities (at least, it should be).

[bosstoaster]

How do you write long stories? Like, 20k+ ? I always have these grand ideas of how I'd like to write a fic that carries grander themes, like a plot against someone that's investigated or a slow burn romance literally anything that feels like it needs to be long to match the content? Like a 5k murder mystery would be over so quickly it'd lose impact? But I can never find the words or inspiration for what should happen in all the "in-between" moments. I can think of things for the beginning and end and a couple of scenes in the middle and it all comes out to about 8-10k. And I can never think of what to put between those scenes. I've got so many disjointed fics I've written over the years that have remained drafts because I don't know how to elevate them from scenes into stories? The pieces don't fit well enough together to turn it into something more epic. It remains a small fic :/ Any advice at all on this? I remember you saying a rough word count of all your fics combined over the past couple years and being flabbergasted by the number. Extraordinary. I'd love to be able to write long fics 🙏 sorry for the ramble!

(Current total AO3 word count is just over 2.75 million words, which doesn't count the 350k-ish in drafts, or fics on account accounts. But anyhow.) I had the same problem for a really long time, actually! Like, genuinely a decade of fic writing through middle and high school. The answer might be different for different people, but one thing really changed the game for me.

Outlines. Outlines are essential for longer stories, by my book.

What I do is I have an idea for a fic, usually a scene or like, an image of a ~vibe.~ From there I ask myself the first question. What do I want from this? Is it a cute romcom situation? Is it a sexy horror story about taming a monster? Is it a surrealist horror story? What do I want someone else to feel when reading this?

When I have that answer, I can answer the next questions: is this an AU or a canon fic? An AU means that your first chapter is probably going to be setting up the differences from canon. Canon means you have to tell your readers when we are in canon and set up how we got to the Situation (or jump into it, if you're feeling spicy.)

With that answer, we have an approximate starting location. It's fic, so we know where your audience is. How do we get from there to what you want to write about? What needs to happen for your fic to occur? For example, in my vampire fic, step one was turning/killing Dave. Okay, so you have your fic in a state where you're ready to run wild with your premise. Here's the actual meat of your questions.

How do I determine what goes in between the start and the scenes I want to write?

Usually one of a few ways

What needs to occur to get to the scenes I want to write? What makes the characters act in a way I want them to, but isn't out of character? Do they need to be hurt? Emotionally compromised? Worn down? How does THAT happen?

What makes logical, in character sense for the characters to do? Given any of the scenes and conflicts you have planned, what would be their next move/concern?

What SLAPS? What scenes add to the feeling I want the audience to have? For example, if this is a rom com, what scenes would make it clear they should get together, or would work well emotionally? If it's a cozy mystery, what clever things does the main character notice that tell you more about the weird cast of suspects? If it's a horror, what makes the situation more tense?

The point of an outline is literally to fill in these gaps. And there's no stress! You can change stuff or ignore it down the line. You're just drawing a basic map for yourself to know the directions you need to go. Just put down ideas, and if they don't work, erase it and try again.

Many vary a lot in length depending on how much detail I already have in my head, how long the fic is, and how complex the story will be. The Vampire sequel outline is six pages long (very long), while most of them are a page or so.

Here's the vampire sequel outline, speaking of. For that, what I had at the start was a) the boys testing what it means to be a vampire and b) Vamp kidnapping Dave. That's all. The rest I made up during the outline.

Without outlines, I would have no idea where I'm going in a fic, so I'd get through what I had then stall out and get writers block and dither and run in circles and eventually give up.

Respect the power of the outline.

[resha04]

Hi, I’m one of the readers of your Hollow Knight fic planning on making stories. I am currently suffering from lack of structure, and I need help. My question is:

1) How do you make your chapter outlines?

2) How do you make up your writing style?

Hello!

1.) First, I decide what the ending is like. It doesn't have to be something very solid, just an idea would usually work for me – for example, I started my HK fic with the idea of PK fighting the Radiance and then having some sort of closure with Hallow regarding their past as the ending. I didn't have any clear image of how it was going to be, just the general idea.

After I have the ending, I make a list (mental or written) of important scenes. They're plot-relevant scenes, but also the scenes I want to insert. Some scenes are usually added along the writing process if inspiration strikes.

Then I get a new piece of paper and start arranging those scenes between the beginning and the ending. Sometimes I break the story into arcs so you can focus on what happen on those arcs – I find it more manageable than staring at the wide blank space between the start and end of the whole story.

(If you do outline by writing it down, you can draw a long line on a paper, mark the beginning and the end, and use post-it notes to write the scenes in-between, so you can move those scenes around :) It's a tips I got on Pinterest.)

If you meant how I decide on what happens on each chapter, it's basically the same as above, only in smaller scale.

2.) This... is an interesting and difficult question. My answer's going to be mostly repeating what other people in the internet said, I'm afraid.

I didn't start writing with a style in mind – or not consciously. I read a lot of fanfics back then, and my brain(?) absorbed the styles that were attractive to me without me noticing. There was one ao3 author whose fics and style I really liked, and maybe because I reread her works so often, when I was writing I unconsciously mimicked her style, adding my own touch in the process.

Someone in the internet said that style is not only about technique – it's also what you like/choose to write about, your word choices, and what you choose to focus/put emphasis on, among some.

So I think... if you're worried about having a writing style, just write. As you keep writing, it would appear by itself.

I hope this helps, or at least sheds a bit of light on your troubles. But please remember that everyone's journey is different. What works for me might or might not work for you, and that doesn't mean one of us is wrong. It just means we each have our own ways (^^).

Good luck on your writing! And thank you for this ask. I am sorry my answer is long (and maybe convoluted?), I can't really be concise and not-rambling when talking about something I love :"D

[practically-an-x-man]

Some backstory on Let us Prey, if you would?

Of course!! Thank you!

The main plot of this fic, and certain scenes in particular, were among the first things I ever decided for Eris as a character. They went through a lot of revisions in between when I first created them back in 2021 and when I finally put them on the page in 2024, but the Jotunheim scene (only saying that much since you haven't read Chapter 2 yet and I don't want to spoil it-) has been in my head since the beginning.

In my head, this is Eris' "main story". The way I've ended up writing this series, it's best read after the others (particularly A Fool's Errand and Whatever Keeps You Around, which are referenced directly in the fic), but it's still held up as "the main story" since it's followed me through every draft of Eris' character and is what binds them into the canon TSS story. And even in writing it out, I think it shows a lot of evolution in Eris' character and view on the world, which is the other reason I consider it their "main story".

Most of the individual scenes weren't planned from the beginning, save for the Jotunheim scene itself. I kinda just wrote them freely, whatever felt right, and shifted between characters' POV based on whatever would give the most interesting view of the story. Chapter 3 is the only chapter of the fic that's entirely in one character's POV (Eris'), the others bounce between Eris, Rick, and DuBois. Some scenes were completely impromptu, like Eris verbally ripping Peacemaker a new one for his use of compression bullets; others had a bit more pre-planning behind them, like Eris and Rick being ambushed with the A-team.

Originally, I couldn't decide on how I wanted to bring Eris into Corto Maltese. I knew they had to be there, but I was torn between two ideas for how to accomplish that. The first idea, the one I ended up going with, was to have Eris accompany Rick with the A-team, get ambushed and overwhelmed in the fight, and have Eris run into DuBois after the Squad slaughters the resistance camp she and Rick were staying in. The second idea was to have Eris go undercover with the B-team (DuBois' team) and pose as another convict on the Squad, then assume with the others that the freedom fighters had kidnapped Rick and would join in the carnage.

I went with the first option mainly because I loved the image of Eris just dropping out of a tree and taking DuBois down, and then them both recognizing each other. The only reason the other one tempted me was because I had the image of Eris finding Rick in the camp and the reunion drawing a little bit of softness from them, and I couldn't have it both ways in the same scene, but I managed to work that little reunion into a scene in chapter 2 instead.

This is getting long, but I'll just share this last thing: I wrote this fic out of order. The last chapter was basically the first thing I wrote, and I pretty much wrote it all in one burst (save for a few little edits later). Then I wrote the very first scene, then the scene of Eris encountering DuBois in the camp, then the scene at the end of Chapter 2, then basically kept popcorning around until I had the whole fic in place. It was actually a really fun piece to write, and it all flowed really well for me!

Thanks again for the ask!! I'm really proud of this fic :D

[alpydk]

23 + 14 + 13 + 28 from the writers ask

Please of course, if you got time to answer 😉😊

Thank you for the ask <3

23 - 3 keywords describing my writing Angst! - This is what I prefer to write. It's easy to write, it feels good to write. Concise - I struggle with metaphors and descriptive language, mostly because it's fanfic. Why describe every aspect of Gale's appearance when everyone knows what Gale looks like? Yeah, this cuts my word count down, but I can get to what I want quicker. Evocative - This is my goal, I might not be the best at drawing out images, but emotions I love doing. If I can get a reaction from my writing, that's what I'm going for.

14 - Where is my inspiration from? Sadly real life mostly. The best stories are written from truth. I'm a cliched damaged artist. The romance though I couldn't tell you, probably buried movie scenes or something in my mind. Normally I get inspired to write though just from trying to write. I sit down and start writing a sentence and let my mind carry on with the daydream. 13 - Fandom I'm thinking of writing for. I really want to write some House, I've been reading some good Chase fics but due to the time most have been abandoned half way or they're just not giving me the hurt I need. I'd also love to write some Cahir (Witcher stuff) but Netflix have ruined him and I can't bring myself to read the books again to get his character right. 28 - Least favourite part of writing At the moment it's the actual writing. A month of illness (still not perfect) and now some issues going on at home have really sapped my energy for it. I've got 3 fics on the go, 2 of which are quite dark and triggering so they're being put off. When I can write though, the worst part is comments. Which I know sounds stupid, but negative ones will get under my skin and stay there, and some positive ones I'm very sceptical over (Did they mean it or is it the social media image? - Thanks mental health). Right, I waffled. Thanks again for the ask <3 - Here, have the song I listened to whilst answering these.

[iwrestledavongonce]

Question time!!!!

📜"how did you get started on your WIPs?"

🖋️"what inspired you to write your WIPs?"

❤️"what are your favorite scenes from your WIPs?"

‼️"what has stayed consistent across all drafts?"

⁉️"what do you do when stuck on a scene?"

❓ask anything you want!

Has how you envisioned your story when you first started writing match where it current is? Has it changed a lot?

Thank you my friend for asking and especially so many questions. As you and y’all know me, dis one gon’ be long.

📜"how did you get started on your WIPs?"

I think I already told the story how the idea for IBWFY once hold me. It started with the image of the Senshi on the ground and LAAT/I suddenly coming out of the sky to help them just jumping into my mind one day, and I was like that would make a cool story. Next thing that popped into my mind was Ami as a Pirate Captain standing on a boat. It took months from there until I even began to make notes how things could be written out.

But then it just began, and in the first few months the ideas just rushed in and my drafts and notes began to grow. The idea for the breakup came relatively late for example but then I thought, hey this is beautiful on a very bittersweet note and that’s just how life is. It also opened the door for so much more, like the extreme long Suntsuna-Slow-Burn. Even nowadays it can happen that i start writing on a chapter and I’m like woah, this particular thing would be great in it. It’s all a process I guess.

🖋️"what inspired you to write your WIPs?"

Music was and is such a great inspiration. Elements of both SM and SW are. Life is. So many things that I draw inspiration from.

From deep within, writing a love story living up to a Cleopatra-Marc Anthony-level is also an inspiration (not that I could ever voice/ write on such a level, but I think the thought is beautiful to tell such a story).

❤️"what are your favorite scenes from your WIPs?"

I wrote about the most favorite already but there are many more and they can differ. Declarations of love, some sentences or actions were I think to myself wow, the musical character some scenes have are a favorite too. And the most emotional ones, those hit too.

‼️"what has stayed consistent across all drafts?"

The rough outlining/ timeline I’d say. And this affects the smaller side fics as well.

⁉️"what do you do when stuck on a scene?"

I got two ways to deal with that. Either really putting myself mentally into that scene, often music or other fitting formats to think about how to put it or I start writing the next scene until I can figure out how to connect the dots.

❓ask anything you want!

Has how you envisioned your story when you first started writing match where it current is? Has it changed a lot?

No, never, it’s crazy how far it went, how long it got, in what I developed. I thought it would be just a small story. Maybe some telling of scenes. A short story maybe and not this behemoth where the first of three main stories is already longer then the whole Harry Potter Saga.

I was thinking this would be a small cracky little Space Opera with questionable humor and musical interludes. And now it turned into this Epic diving into so many meaningful and deep topics like anti-war, loss of love and broken people. On a very personal note, I don’t have kids (and I’m not sure if I want to have kids in this crazy world) so I consider TOTFS as my legacy to the world. The one thing I want to leave behind, that’s also my motivation to one day end it. Who would ever thought it would come to this from a small thought of alate fantasy

[froggychair05]

Bakery Au! It seems pretty cool! I came from your Jesskas cookie making fic thought it was great btw

Did you have any other hcs for the Bakery Au? Or any drawings?

Thank you!! I loved writing that fic, I’m glad people like it so much!! I guess I just have a thing for writing characters baking, haha

And ohhhh boy, do I ever! I uh. May or may not have just reached over 5000 words in scribbling down notes alone about this…so I’ll only go into a few so this doesn’t get ridiculously long. If there’s anything else you’d like to know, though, I’d be happy to share more! (as long as it’s not a major spoiler, that is)

This got…very long already, so I’ll put a cut here.

Some of these are plot-relevant, I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which ones 🙃

- Jesse is very good at cooking, but absolutely horrible at baking. Just absolutely terrible.

- He cannot drive. Like at all. Axel drives him everywhere (Axel makes jokes that he shouldn’t be trusted to drive, but he’s actually very good at it)

- Speaking of Axel, he has a rock collection that he’s very proud of

- He works as a demolitionist (because, you know, griefer? I wanted to give him a job where he could blow things up)

- Olivia works from home as a programmer. She has her own room while the other two have to share because of it, and also because they snore really loud.

- She handles all of the scheduling of appointments and stuff because the other two always forget

- Lukas takes a cheese sandwich and a granola bar to work for lunch every day. He also likes to put whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles in his hot chocolate :)

- He has a pair of clip-on stud earrings that he got as a gift from Petra because he never wanted to get his ears pierced but he did want earrings (he doesn’t wear them to work for fear of losing them)

- Petra met Lukas in high school and they became really close— she’s kind of a sister figure to him and they talk on the phone a lot

- She spends a lot of time traveling to gather things for her adopted dads’ (Jack and Nurm!) antique/pawn shop thing. Also she rides a motorcycle.

- Nell is great at handling rude customers. Lukas is 90% sure she does weed in the bathroom (she does)

- Radar organizes the display cases, like, all the time. He’s in college and he cleans when he’s stressed, so the bakery is always very clean

- Stella is genuinely good at business, but only the social parts. Binta helps with more of the technical aspects. (They are girlfriends)

- Aiden played football in high school, Maya was a cheerleader, and Gill played soccer.

- The three of them (plus Lukas) have been hanging out since middle school, and they still have the matching leather jacket thing going on

- Ivor works as a pharmacist (because potions and stuff? medicine?); he’s also Jesse’s dad/weird uncle figure (more on that another time)

As for drawings, I started doodling some character designs! Because the headcanon list got so long, I won’t go into a lot of detail about them, but again, I’d be happy to answer any questions about design choices!

The words got kind of blurry, so the first image says (from top to bottom):

- construction worker, always covered in dirt

- work uniform

- nether star tattoo on her arm

- I have never drawn him before this

And the second image, from top to bottom:

- runs counter/baking, also in charge of daily cupcake display

- bakery logo

- in charge of cleaning, organization, and finances

- owner/manager/supervisor, handles the social aspects of the business

- helps with the technical aspects of the business, also delivers from the ingredients supplier

I have other designs in progress and I’ve started doodling some of the scenes, so those will show up eventually :) I have some big plans for this AU. Thank you for the ask!

[iaus]

For director's commentary: picking a snippet from i'll crawl home (to you) because. While dd2 never quite ended up grabbing me the same way the first game did, this fic took me in its claws and never let go. I'm such a sucker for memories-from-past-timelines stories, and the implication of Tardif having an inhuman element was so fascinating too, thus my selection:

“I am offering my services to those who need an extra hand along the road,” the bounty hunter says flatly, the image of professionalism if he did not clutch one of the flagellant’s hands in his. “It is a long, lonely road filled with horrors. Sometimes a hunter at your back is the best solution to dealing with the shadowy beasts.”

“And how do we know you are not a shadowy beast, following to devour us all?”

The bounty hunter barks a harsh laugh that draws the rest of the party’s attention. The sound fills the rickety walls. The inn goes silent. The hearth light flickers.

“Suppose you don’t really.”

oh I see the revenge I do. AUGH.

I still have such a huge soft spot for this fic and kind of regret not expanding on it. And tbh even though I put hours and hours (derogatory) into DD2 I still have so many bitter complicated feelings about it.

So, I definitely get it.

BUT that's not what we're here to talk about.

We're here to talk about this ^

I wanna preface this with saying that I still do love that they made it so Tardif is just not an actual character (much like DD1, ah, I miss her).

But that's also the driving force of why I wrote this fic. Like. We keep seeing this guy, we can hire him and keep him on for this small part of his journey he takes CANDLES which is a currency that seems to have no worth so what's his fucking deal.

(Tardif thought of the century let's be real here.)

First off this fic was SO HARD to write because I wanted to purposefully avoid using names even though we already know their names. We are intimate with these two (we know they are too), but DD2 despite expanding on pasts always felt... distancing to me.

Like I cared more about my silly little DD1 characters without backstories than I ever did the DD2 characters. I literally stopped playing for like a week when my original "Damian" sacrificed himself to stop Vvulf from destroying the Hamlet. (Feu you get to live on in my d&d campaign as an absolute menace.)

But, so we keep with that separation in this fic with the flagellant and the bounty hunter (not even proper nouns)... until the very end but that's not what we're looking at right now.

Now, I had to go back and read this fic in its entirety just to make sure to get all the Context of this scene (which you picked the one I adore because otherworldly Tardif sets off a Pavlovian response in me).

Which, this line of dialogue:

“It is a long, lonely road filled with horrors. Sometimes a hunter at your back is the best solution to dealing with the shadowy beasts.”

I see this version of Tardif as both this marauder spirit almost... but also a Tardif who's stuck in his past. In my fics, Damian forces Tardif to grow just as much as Tardif forces Damian to grow so in this moment he is both a Tardif who has never had Damian and the Tardif who has experienced Damian... but can't quite get that emotional connection there. BUT his body language that led into the dialogue has an implication that he misses it:

...the bounty hunter says flatly, the image of professionalism if he did not clutch one of the flagellant’s hands in his.

I've never really seen Tardif as the one initiating contact in my mind's eye. I've always seen these two as Damian pursuing Tardif to the point of discomfort if only to get a reaction (any attention is good attention, even getting clocked or called a freak). But in this fic-- in this scene-- Tardif is initiating. He sees this rotting corpse of a man and he recognizes him. What memories is he drawing on? Is he like Damian (currently) and seeing past lives in the wainwright? Is he seeing the memories of their "domesticity" in the Hamlet? At this point, it's not really clear but he wants something from Damian.

He's not just offering himself as a guard dog (Tardif will insist if pressed that THAT is all he's offering, nothing else, nothing more). This is more than original Tardif ever did. Original Tardif incited Damian to chase him and then reacted, but he didn't force the interactions.

So, he's changed. Somehow.

“And how do we know you are not a shadowy beast, following to devour us all?”

And then we get our beloved Tardif-Damian bantering where Damian immediately, out of reflex, pecks at Tardif.

Flirts with him. This is flirting.

This is easily something Damian might have said at the Hamlet given the right circumstances and Tardif probably would have responded physically. Fist fight or something more intimate.

But instead, we get another glimpse into how Tardif has changed. His reaction is involuntary:

The bounty hunter barks a harsh laugh that draws the rest of the party’s attention. The sound fills the rickety walls. The inn goes silent. The hearth light flickers.

He laughs and the very atmosphere around him changes. We as readers can now understand the extent that Tardif has changed without/with Damian.

So when I wrote this I definitely pictured a monstrous Tardif beneath the hood. Think a mix of the Collector and Thing From the Stars. Faceless and terrible, a being corrupted by forces that none of them understand.

I had envisioned someone who could match Damian's new, horrifying form. That would easily withstand Damian's new blighted abilities without even having to realize the danger.

He was made for Damian because Damian changed. So the universe decided that Tardif must change too. But. Even when things change, things stay the same because Tardif is almost playful when responding to Damian:

“Suppose you don’t really.”

Flirting back a bit, honestly.

Like that's the only way he knows how to respond to Damian.

[sunsafewriting]

Hey :). I was hoping that maybe you would have some nuggets of wisdom regarding story pacing and plot. Everything you published on ao3 is so well paced and worded in such a way that the reader can vividly picture every scene. Sooo.. question: how do you plan out the plot of a story? And when you don't necessarily have a plot, how do you make sure that the scenes you want to write are well-connected/paced within the bigger narrative?

Anyways, I hope you have a great day. And answer or not, I will keep enjoying your work just the same.

hey mate! thanks for thinking of me but you have actually come to a terrible place for pacing advice bc that is definitely the part of writing that i struggle with most lol . but i shall tell you how I cope and hopefully some of that helps you (?)

basically I cannot plan to save my life. fic or original writing --- if I set out to outline, I come up with bad ideas and stress myself out of even starting. all the stories I plan are MUCH worse than the ones I don't. for some writers planning works great and if that's you that's awesome!!! but I am doomed to walk another path

what I do instead of planning a story is think about what I (me, personally, bc I write fic from a place of indulgence) WANT out of it. like, what's the stuff I wanna see? to me, the essential aspect of pacing is making that stuff feel important and worth it and earned. it has to have emotional weight or it won't be what I'm after .

that's also how I try to make scenes are connected; they're all focused around a general Vibe or Feeling I want to construct.

for example, in Do A Flip, what I wanted was all of them getting to become a family. and so I worked backwards from that --- what are the steps within steps within steps that lead them there? what little aspects can we put together to create that kind of image?

for pacing it's also handy sometimes to ask what the best bit about NOT being where you're aiming for yet is. like, what is worth lingering on and enjoying that isn't the end goal? what fun thing can you only have at THIS moment of the story, rather than later? it makes each part more fun to write .

I started with a much shorter version of the fic (14k) where I wrote a shoddy draft of the whole thing from Diego's pov, and then I went back and added a ton more pieces.

that's also something I use to help myself out (and because personally I love to write this way) --- I write in pieces.

this improves my pacing, because then I'm not having to constantly consider the whole structure. instead, I'm thinking about what the point of an individual fragment is --- what am I showing in this scene, and what does it mean? often it's just something small (like I want to show that Beatrice is comfortable with Ava holding her hand, or that Lilith tries to be friendly to Diego) but I function much better with a hundred bite sized pieces than a massive whole.

in these piece-style stories, I rely on the reader drawing connections between different parts and inferring rather than a smooth flow. it's just something I enjoy as a narrative form --- I like gaps and spaces where you figure bits out yourself.

I also rearrange a ton. scenes get cut and pasted to be in a new spot all the time bc I realise as I go that they could be tweaked and fit better somewhere else. when I'm writing, I also often just leave a break and write SCENE, and then jump on to the next one --- like I don't know how I'm going to fill it in yet, but I know I need something to separate out two more similar bits, or a different POV, or to slow down before X Event happens. half the time I have no idea where a chapter is going until the first version is almost done.

the other thing about pacing for me is that devastatingly I rely heavily on rewriting, editing, and cutting beloved scenes that don't super gel. chapters take SO long to come out bc I rewrite them 2-4 times. a lot of better (and less highly strung) writers don't need to do that much so please don't feel like it's necessary but it's definitely necessary for me bc without it my work would be a total shambles lmao. I also find the promise of rewriting means I'm less likely to freeze up or stare at a blank page because I will go back and improve/tidy up later.

I also think paying attention when you feel pretty meh about something is helpful for pacing. for example, I wrote a 6k version of chapter 3 of Favourable Conditions where a lot more happened, but I didn't like it. I got my girlfriend to read it and she said "the whole first part feels like you're racing to get to the second part, and then it all settles down". and she was totally right --- I had a scene I was excited to get to so I gunned it, but the overall feeling of the chapter suffered as a result. I split the chapter in half and then rewrote the whole first half as a chapter in its own right, and decided to focus on what fun stuff I could do there, rather than just skipping through to get to the rest. I ended up adding scenes that were the ones people in the comments liked most. I also ultimately decided to change the next few plot beats afterwards, based on how that went.

I would also say that generally speaking, not a lot happens in my stories. like, I go for smaller stakes and smaller actions that slowly add up --- mostly bc I'm writing very chilled out stuff. but if you're trying to build a character to the point of doing something drastic, it's a different ballgame to escalating them to some minor change. both are super doable, you've just got to keep in mind what you're aiming for. I like minor stakes because I enjoy trying to make small things like washing dishes or going to the park matter. it's also just the vibe of where I'm at right now --- previously I've written things that were a LOT more dramatic.

if you're really struggling, I would also suggest starting with writing something short. your blog is blank so I couldn't tell what kind of writing you might be interested in, but it's much easier to tweak and change and judge these things if you're working in a smaller area --- like a 2-4k oneshot --- than if you sit down to write 80k. I literally never sit down to write 80k of fic I just accidentally end up doing it lmao.

I hope some of that is vaguely useful? I don't have a lot of wisdom to dispense bc as you can see most of my process is crutches for getting around having no natural sense of pacing. if you have any more specific questions about pacing a particular scene or idea I might be able to help more?

but good luck! 💛