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#Different First meeting
hoodie-buck · 3 months
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—duck!buck ✨christmas edition✨ is here! thank you to everyone who loves my silly little jeep ducking shenanigans. wishing y’all a merry ducking christmas 💚❤️
rated: t | words: 18.6k | read on ao3
summary:
“Ok, so I have them all categorized. Do you want them by year, color, or season?”
Eddie’s eyes widened with a bit of fear. What the hell had Athena gotten him into?
“Um, how about you tell me about your ducks first…what kind are they?”
Buck deadpanned. “Rubber.”
Eddie shook his head, trying to hide his surprise as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Buck let out a cackle, startling Eddie a little.
“You didn’t think I was talking about live duck’s did you?”
Buck said it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world, as if any of their conversation had been semi normal.
“No, I guess I’m just—confused is all,” was what Eddie settled with. Buck shook his head as he tapped at his clipboard.
“You’ve never heard of Jeep ducking?”
Eddie shook his head as he turned on his blinker. “Can’t say that I have.”
—or—
The 1 time Buck gets held at gunpoint and robbed of his ducks, and the 6 times Eddie replaces them. Eddie’s a cop, bucks a firefighter, there’s rubber ducks, what more can I say?
tagging squad:
@loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @santadiazz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @arthursdent @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @heartshapedvows @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @murder-trio @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire
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wangxianficrecs · 7 months
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Flowers Blooming by Ilona22
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Flowers Blooming
by Ilona22
M, 35k, Wangxian
Part of the MXTX Epic Journeys Big Bang
Summary: At the coast, there is a city where they say the most beautiful of flowers live. Among them, one shines for many reasons. Wei Ying is orphaned when he is four years old. Unlike in another world, he does not have to wait years to be found by his father’s martial brother. Instead, he is found by a woman looking for a child to love. From that, he grows up differently. Some things are changed. Other matters are not influenced by the absence of one child. And yet others were written in the stars long ago. Kay's comments: A lovely canon-divergence story where Wei Wuxian gets adopted by commeners before Jiang Fengmian can find him. He still manages to grow into a formidable cultivator, but he also gains other talenst and a whole family! And when the Sunshot Campaign breaks out, he also meets Lan Wangji and of course, they fall in love. Really enjoyed how this story breathed life into the world outside of the gentry sects and expanded on the world-building of MDZS. With beautiful fanart by @krynnibear Excerpt: “We owe gratitude to that cultivator then. Do we know his name?” Lan Qiren asked. “No, they described him as very young, about Wangji’s age. Dressed in grey and a colorful underlayer, archer’s bracers,” she reported. Lan Wangji was interested, there were not many cultivators his age who could have successfully taken on all those ghouls. And from what Lan Lin reported, he had not taken money from the women in the teahouse, either. He sounded kind, and very skilled with talisman craft. It might just have been the way the tale was passed on, but some of those described did not sound like the standard talismans. “There have been reports of a cultivator of this description in several places,” Lan Mingchen remarked, telling them what he knew. There was no discernible pattern to the cultivator’s movements. Odd, as most rogue cultivators moved along trade roads, or in a fixed area. But all the tales added to the picture of a young man willing to help even without a big reward. Lan Wangji hoped he would be able to met him one day.
pov alternating, canon divergence, wei wuxian isn't adopted by the jiangs, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, inventor wei wuxian, genius wei wuxian, different first meeting, sunshot campaign, slow burn, falling in love, coming of age, getting to knew each other, strangers to lovers, families of choice, happy ending, cultivation sect politics, supportive lan xichen, supportive lan qiren, fanart
~*~
(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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aziraphales-library · 4 months
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Hello beautiful people!
You are doing a wonderful job so far. I have found so many good recommendations. Thank you so much for the help and the support.
I have read a wonderful fiction a while back, and I can't find it anywhere and it was on ao3. It was an alternative universe where Aziraphale and Crowley never met. Aziraphale accidently finds Crowley held caprive in a cave in Cyprus, where he wears a collar that doesn't allow him to speak, or write, and he takes him in Soho. Later, it is revealed that the reason Heaven held Crowley (for 10 years) is to reveal where he has hidden the Antichrist.
I have more things that I remember from the fic, but I don't want to tire you. Any help will be deeply appreciated.
Thank you again, you are lovely!
Hi and thanks! The fic you're looking for is...
In Silence Our Secrets Lie by IneffableToreshi (M)
A Good Omens AU which takes place in the year leading up to the Apocalypse. Aziraphale has been alone on Earth for 6000 years. He loves the planet, the humans, all the wonders therein, but as the only ethereal being on the planet (as far as he's aware) and a misfit among the other angels of Heaven, he's been terribly, painfully lonely. Everything changes the day he senses a presence: a demonic presence that is in pain, as lonely and miserable as the angel is, and is hanging on his last thread of life after being tortured for an untold length of time. Aziraphale rescues the dying demon, whose powers and voice have been stolen away from him by a mystical artefact, and vows to protect him and keep him safe. But what will Aziraphale think when he finds out who was responsible for the demon's imprisonment and why? Not to mention the secret the demon is keeping about who he really is?
- Mod D
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princessfbi · 1 year
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The Building Pressure (of You)
Eddie was quick to text back, knowing the answer even before he wrote the question out, like the way he knew his own heartbeat.
EDDIE: Do you need me?
All Eddie knew was that Buck was hurting and he needed him.
BUCK: Yes. 
Followed shortly by an almost desperate Please.
aka Buck reaches out to Eddie after he leaves Abby's place in 2x07
Part 4 of Kink Club AU
Read on Ao3
Rated: E | One Shot | Words: 14,823
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steviewashere · 3 months
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Return to Sender
Slaps you in the face with this chapter of my new fic, Return to Sender. Which I will update every Saturday, or at least attempt to. Different first meetings, strangers to friends to lovers to strangers (and then endgame). Hope you enjoy, I'll add tags when necessary.
Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove (A Warning in Itself), Eddie Munson (E.M.)
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
General Audiences (May Change, but Will Not be Explicit)
Tags: Pre-Season 2, Rewriting Canon, Though Keeping to Main Canon Events (i.e. Steve getting roped into finding Dart, Billy smashing in Steve's face, The junkyard, etc.)
Expanded from This Post!
Next Part is Out! ------>
Enjoy <3
------- Steve picks up a little piece of paper that somebody shoved inside the grates of his locker door. It's folded, crumpled, creased and stained. He glances around. If the messenger just left this, they must still be around, right? At the bathrooms, nobody stands. Or at the narrow opening that floods into the main hall of Hawkins High. Or even peeking from under the stairwell. He runs his thumb over the paper. It's soft, most likely worn down from being held onto for so long. From being in somebody's pocket. Pressed up against the radiating warmth from their naked thigh. Possibly held between their fingers, twirling and folding in the gaps.
Does he open it? He's curious, he should. But what if it's another one of Tommy's pranks, which have increased tenfold since they stopped being friends. What if it's Carol giving him a fill-in on gossip he no longer wants a slice of? Or...What if it's Nancy apologizing? He shakes his head at that. What does she shave to apologize for, he questions himself. If anybody should say sorry, it would be me.
Basketball practice is in ten minutes. He's got his sweatbands on. Retied his sneakers. Changed into shorts and a particularly revealing muscle tank. Slathered on deodorant, lip balm, and baby powder to prevent chafing on his thighs. He's ready to go. Gotta go, he hastily thinks.
But...
The note. Somebody left it just for him.
Oh, but what if it's to tease him? To poke fun at the fact that he lost his girlfriend to somebody the whole school deems as his rival. To laugh at the new cut near his hairline, pink and puckered, laughing at his inability to fight back (parents teach their kids the damndest things). From that insufferable guy, Billy, that's barreled in through town from California and shoved him on the spikes of his King Steve crown. From that band girl with choppy strawberry blonde hair that's always too observant. From somebody else...somebody who wants to see him bend over, gasp for air that's too sharp and fleeting, and cry with nothing else to do.
He blearily thinks, Fuck it. He thinks, Men don't cry. Though the voice is his father's and they're almost the same in intonation, does it matter who's ridiculing him? He thinks, I just want to go home and rest.
It unfolds without him willing. The paper still soft, not yet agitating his palms. Gently torn around the edges. Blue pen glowing up at him. He takes a breath and reads.
"You seem haunted. But you're lovely. I hope you find peace soon, Steve. -E.M."
Steve's watch beeps at him. Time to shoot some hoops. And all the while he will think, Who the hell is E.M.?
---- He's at the three point line practicing his free throws. Back wet with sweat. Hair drooping over the sweatband around his forehead, the prickly ends threatening to stab his eyelids. The ball is in his grip just under the tip of his nose. He gives it another couple dribbles for luck. Poises to shoot.
Just as his arms flex, he goes tumbling down to the ground. A thump across the waxed gymnasium floor. His head misses, thankfully, but the rest of him is in a gigantic sore heap. Limbs splayed out around him. The basketball bouncing off somewhere to his right. And the impact scared him into shutting his eyes. Opening them, blearily and blinking fast, he realizes he's now nose to calf with that asshole, Billy Hargrove.
The guy—broad, tall, muscular with an ugly shaggy mullet and a permanent sneer to his lips—has been consistently knocking Steve down. Whether it be on the court, as it is right now. Out on the track in gym class. In the hallways, slamming Steve's left shoulder into the closed locker doors, enough he swears it dislocated at least a couple times. Even once in the parking lot; leaving a ding on the trunk of Steve's BMW. It's one of the nicer things he owns and it made him see red the way the metal was dented in. He'd tried to fight back against Billy, but that ended up with him and a blood nose. He's retired all efforts in making this guy leave him alone. Too pussy to be the first to throw a fist. Too smarmy to confront a teacher.
Steve groans and tries to sit up, but is promptly shoved back down by the bottom of one of Billy's sneakers. He hears from above, "Fucking stay out of my way, Harrington." And then his presence is gone. Footsteps, heavy and quick, making their way away from Steve's supine, sweaty, adrenaline leaking body.
He successfully sits up with the next groan and gasp from his lips. Rubs a firm hand on the small of his back. And decides, Fuck this. Rising from the ground is no ambitious feat. And choosing to barrel past his coach, give him the finger, slam the locker room door behind him, take a quick hot shower, and reclothe himself in a usual school outfit—none of that is ambitious either. It's freeing, in a way.
Sure, he loves basketball. Loves gym class. Loves working out in general. He's been on a basketball team every year since he was seven years old. Watches games from the middle cushion of his parent's three-seater sofa. Skims through Sports Illustrated every chance he gets. Has assisted with little league teams and the junior varsity tryouts annually since freshman year—always there to encourage and uplift nervous players, because he had been one once, so he gets it.
But, also, the amount of running up and down the basketball court. The amount of watching from his peripherals. Dodging and very nearly hiding away from other players. It all just reminds him of...Of that stupid flower-faced motherfucker that tumbled through the Byers' place. All the trouble for wanting to apologize. Now he's more scarred than a pink eraser some distracted kid uses in math class—puncture wounds in his brain where the images of blood, snarling saliva, and twirling some weaponized bat are permanently flashing. All the time. In his waking existence and in his sleep.
Playing on the sports teams also comes with expectations. Not from his peers. Or friends. Not even the coaches. But, rather, his parents. And damn it, if being bullied off the court is a way to try and get them off his back, then he'd fucking take being roped by his ankles and shook like a can of pop for his lunch money. He thinks, Fuck what they think. Fuck what the coach thinks. And fuck Billy Hargrove.
When he's finally out of the locker room and back at his everyday locker, he notices another little white paper making a minor appearance. It's a fresh piece. From the way it's bright in the light and sharp around the edges in his hands. Even the blue pen marks are smeared slightly, as if the person—E.M.—was in a rush to get away. To not be caught.
It reads now:
"I'll charge that dickwad more for his weed. It's fucking stupid that he thinks he rules the school now. Hargrove gave one of my friends a swirly last week. Tried to dump my lunch earlier today. Don't worry, Steve, I'll drain him for more than he's worth. -E.M."
His hand falls away, note still gripped, and slams against his thigh. Runs a hand down his damp face. And becomes dizzy with the implication of the last line; or at least, his interpretation.
Now, Steve's smoked before. Came home one time from the quarry smelling like it and knew what it was like to be caught by a ring on the face when he'd walked through his front doors. But...that had been weed that Tommy's cousin brought around during the summer they were in town. Steve isn't aware of anybody in Hawkins who would be dealing. And, if he's honest, marijuana isn't a top choice for unwinding. He prefers a beer or a cigarette, something that won't leave a trail of evidence behind.
So, now he's aware that somebody—a stranger—is watching him from a distance. Somebody who goes to school with him. Somebody who deals drugs, maybe even does them. And...their initials are E.M.
He almost wants to shout out for the person to make themself known. But the mystery behind it all is intriguing, to say the least. Like they're playing hard to get. And, Steve doesn't usually go after people that make anything—friendship or romantic relationships—hard on him, but the lack of info, the observance, the knowing somebody has their eyes on and out for him...
Well, that makes something stir in his gut.
And he doesn't know what that says about him. To be swooning, slightly, for somebody without a face. Somebody who could be a stalker if he thinks about it. They're protective, though. And that's not something Steve usually gains from somebody else.
It's frustrating, though, not knowing who this person is. Maybe if he can ask around, maybe get Billy to slip up about his smoking habits.
He wants to put a face to this mystery person.
Wants to...see if they're just as attractive as their instincts.
--------
Next Part is Out! ------>
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earlgreyinpajamas · 1 year
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merthur fic recs: different first meeting
1. Here at the Altar I’m Letting You Go by messandahalf (@messandahalf10too)
Against Arthur's will, he is arranged to marry Princess Mithian from Nemeth. A minor problem occurs in Uther's plan for his son when the regular tailor for the Royal Family falls ill, requiring a replacement to sew Arthur's wedding attire.
~~~
fahjdkh the pining!!!
2. Woad Blue by MerlinLikeTheBird
They accidentally take over a castle. Well, Gwaine calls it liberating. Merlin’s not sure what to call it—there was a lord, and now there isn’t. (Kanen comes to Ealdor early, and that changes everything.)
~~~
the angst slaps so hard in this fic (though there is still a ton of fluff!)
3. We Can Hide Together, Among the Roses by infinitemerlin         
Arthur is supposed to marry Princess Mithian in five days.
And then he meets the wedding's florist.
Suddenly, he can't stop thinking about roses and happiness and—does he even deserve all of that?
~~~
ahhh this is so cute!!!
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hustling for the good life (never thought i'd meet you here)
—if you love different first meetings, this one's for you!
author: diazchristopher | rated: t | words: 4k|ao3 link
summary:
“Erm,” Buck says eloquently and when the stranger’s lips twitch, he wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment. After a moment’s struggle, he manages to pull himself together and says, “Hi. I’m Buck.”
“Eddie,” the man replies, raking his gaze over Buck in a way that makes him feel ready to combust. “I don’t recall seeing you at the wedding. Are you on the bride’s side, or the groom’s?”
Shit.
or, a different first meeting where buck accidentally crashes eddie's sister's wedding reception. just normal stuff.
—kels reasons to read—
the perfect meet cute
so soft and fluffy
i love how they fall instantly, in any universe
@captain-hen
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lisbeth-kk · 6 months
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Please don't go
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/50165977
John's about to die from boredom. However, a triple murder puts a stop to that.
Today's prompt by @onesmallfamily was car.
@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @safedistancefrombeingsmart @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels
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cupidford · 6 months
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From Here to There and Back Again by thegildedbee
Johnlock Love Letters #2329
Sherlock and John first meet when John is already in residence at Baker Street at the bottom of the stairs. Mike and Mrs. H put their heads together about how to coax two skittish recluses to venture forth and spark joy.
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vladdyissues · 4 months
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Listen, listen, what if in the middle of the recovery in the hospital Vlad would lack of money and NOT try to steal them, but decided to go "ghost life" (ye, technically he's still halfa but go to his weak human form when he's beaten or needs to have some sleep)? Danny wouldn't know for long time why that ghost is so interested in him and why he can't scent Vlad or his scent is totally different than other ghosts, it would a plot twist of Vlad being halfa, too. I don't think Plasmius would try to seduce Maddie. Revenge from Jack? Yes.
Do you think Vlad would have more ghost friends (like a popular hc of Skulker+Ember+Technus+Spectra+Vlad) or still stay same miserable way?
That's a fascinating alternate universe scenario! Instead of staying in the human world and robbing his way to wealth and power, Vlad flees to the Ghost Zone and tries to eke out an existence there. We already saw in Masters of All Time that his ghost half doesn't suffer (at least not visually) from the effects of the ecto-acne, so maybe it hurt less to be in his ghost form, and that was the impetus for him to flee to the Ghost Zone. It's something to think about.
I honestly don't see Vlad making any actual friends in the human world or the ghost realm. He likes having pawns and minions, people he can use, often ruthlessly*. (See: the townsfolk he overshadowed to vote him in for mayor in Eye for an Eye.) He works with Skulker and employs the vultures and ectopusses to do his dirty work, but he isn't actually friends with them. All he seems to care about is their use to him. He has no desire for friendship or companionship with other people or ghosts who aren't Maddie and/or Danny. And if he can't have what he truly wants, he'll accept no substitutes. It's all or nothing when it comes to Vlad.
*Of course, this could be a defense mechanism; Vlad has been hurt emotionally and physically. He's been traumatized, had his heart broken, he feels betrayed, and perhaps he's afraid to let anyone in now. Deep down, he's so tender, so desperate to love and be loved (see: Maternal Instincts and Kindred Spirits) that he has to guard himself well, otherwise his next heartache might destroy him. He's like a crab: tough exterior but extremely vulnerable on the inside.
I imagine he views ghosts like Ember and Technus and Spectra as incompetent or beneath him. Canon examples: in Torrent of Terror, he only helps free Vortex so he can manipulate him, and when he loses the means of controlling him, he lays on the charm to save his own skin (and then jets, leaving Danny to clean up his dirty work). Same with the Fright Night and Pariah Dark in Reign Storm. He wouldn't deign to actually befriend these ghosts, and he certainly doesn't respect them. To him they're merely obstacles to be overcome, threats to be neutralized. Upon his arrival to the Ghost Zone, I bet he set up a lair somewhere especially hidden and worked on developing his powers until he could easily wallop his competition—and maybe that's how he ended up recruiting Skulker and the vultures, by holding the threat of destruction over their heads.
As for Danny, I'm sure he would be stunned and intrigued to find another ghost hybrid like himself, and if this first meeting were to happen organically in the Ghost Zone, it would put Vlad in a position of power. He could lie to Danny, make up any tragic backstory he wanted, and Danny would have no reason to doubt him; after all, in this universe, Vlad Masters disappeared from the hospital and was never heard from again. Vlad could prey on the boy's curiosity, luring him in with either good or nefarious intentions, and if he played his cards just right, Danny would soon become his first true and loyal friend in 20+ years, and together they could go on to conquer the Ghost Zone.
With a crown on his head and a companion at his side—not to mention the fear and obedience of the inhabitants of the Ghost Zone—Vlad would at last have everything he ever wanted: love, power, and an eternity to enjoy both.
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themerlinlibrary · 2 months
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Favourites Friday (Feb 2024) – Different First Meeting
TML Favourites Friday round-up! February 2024 round 1
What is Favourites Friday? – The Basics
a different theme is announced on Friday each week; FF recs must match the theme of the week
only one FF rec per person per week/theme
FF recs must be unique within that week/theme; no double-posting the same fic for one theme!
no self-recs during regular rounds
only self-recs during self-rec rounds (last Friday of each month)
Theme for week 1: Different First Meeting!
A Witch Hunter in Ealdor by thenerdyindividual T, 47k, Merlin/Arthur  Canon Divergence AU, Different First Meeting AU
Before the Sun Rises by marguerite_26 E, 8.6k, Merlin/Arthur Canon Era, Age difference
In the Hands of Strangers by AeonTheDimensionalGirl T, 4.5k, Merlin/Arthur (pre-relationship)  Canon era AU
Adjust my Worldview, Give me Leave to dream and I will save our world by Merlioske E, 5.4k, Merlin/Arthur Canon Era AU, Druid King Merlin
Perfect Strangers by sugar_loaf T, 1.1k, Merlin/Arthur  Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés AU
A masterlist of all round-ups can be found here.
If you want to make sure you never miss a FF rec, or would like to participate and share your own favourites; join us on the Discord TheMerlinLibrary! Happy reading!
About the FF round-up lists:
Recs are listed in the order they were posted on the Discord; the order does not imply any sort of ranking.
The pairing given in this list is the main pairing of each respective fic – please read the tags for any possible minor or side-pairings, as well as any potential warnings or triggers.
Pairings and Eras are given as tagged in each respective fic. (?) signifies that the tags were unclear and I do not know enough about the fic to fill the gaps.
Round-ups are compiled on the weekend of the week after the respective theme of the post (when the new theme has already been anounced), to avoid omitting potentially belated FF recs.
The weekly round-up is not a guarantee! I'm running this alone, so it can only be posted for weeks when I have enough time on my hands to compile a list. If you'd like to help out, feel free to contact me on Tumblr ( @zaharya ) or Discord. Thanks to @ravenwilds for helping me out with these round-ups, and to Chel for making a whole-ass bot to make it easier!
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hoodie-buck · 3 months
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—author!buck is here y’all! thanks to everyone who didn’t let me give up on her, especially my wife april who never shut up about it jfjrjs. thanks for loving the idea and helping me make it come true, and ofc for the sexy cover art 😏 mwah ily 🫶🏼 hope y’all enjoy!
rated: e | words: 24.7k | chapters: 3 | read on ao3
summary:
“So,” Maddie started, “I have some good news, and some…bad news.”
“Mads, I literally can’t take any more bad news.”
“Well, the good news is that the bad news can be fixed by the good news.”
He was so confused.
“Remember I told you one of the models had to cancel?” Buck nodded. “Well Hen found another last-minute replacement, but they—well they also had to cancel…last minute.”
“Anyway, Hen was able to find another replacement, for the replacement.”
“Ok. Fine, whatever. Why are you telling me all of this anyway if you’ve already found another replacement?”
“Well, Chim and I were talking, and we thought—who better to model for the covers than the one who wrote them?”
“Mads, no way! I’m already way in over my head with all these bonus chapters. Besides, I don’t know the first thing about modeling.”
“Well, that’s perfect, seeing as our other model doesn’t have any prior experience either.
One look at the guy had Buck asking what they needed him for.
—or—
Buck’s an author who writes smutty hallmark books. He needs new covers for his holiday editions. Who better to model for them than himself and the hot dad who likes to be called eight pack?
tagging squad below, just lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3
tags: @loserdiaz @redlightsandicedtea @loveyourownsmiilee @monsterrae1 @buddierights @swiftiebuckleyhan @honestlydarkprincess @barbiediaz @spotsandsocks @justsmilestuffhappens @santadiazz @djdangerlove @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @jacksadventuresinwriting @stanningsky @wh0re-behavi0r @ronordmann @spaceprincessem @arthursdent @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @betty-boom @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @theotherbuckley @louis-tenn @the-gayest-wug @buckley-diaz-rules @muppetbuddie @gamer-kai @blorbodiaz @heartshapedvows @trashbaget @steadfastsaturnsrings @buckbuckgoose @wikiangela @hobbitnarwhal @shortsighted-owl @pirrusstuff @goldencherrymooon @murder-trio @daffi-990 @greenfairrryy @mattsire
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aziraphales-library · 8 months
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Hello lovely mods, thanks again for your miracle work on this blog. Just wondering if you have any fic recs where Crowley and Aziraphale don't meet at Eden, but sometime later. Bonus points if the rating is towards the E end of the spectrum. Thanks again, adore this blog and all your work ❤️
Hi! Please check our #different first meeting tag for more fics like this! Here are some more to add to the collection...
We'll Meet Again (don't know where, don't know when) by OfSnakesLiesandKings (T)
Aziraphale and Crowley missed their first meeting on the Wall of Eden and each had to go through 6000 human years on their own. What would happen when Aziraphale is sent to Earth for the first time since the garden, with the objective to keep an eye on Hell’s oldest agent as Armageddon approaches?
Rated for: discorporations (no graphic details), (canon typical) drinking and swearing.
sugar by Sway (E)
"We have decided,” Beelzebub says, “to punish it in a way that fits the crime.” They wave a hand and one of the demons shoves the other a step forward. “It will be given to the demon Crowley for 40 days, may he do his worst with it.”
Aziraphale likes sex. She really does. Heaven - obviously - does not so they decide to punish her under their new Redemption Policy. Forty days with a demon of Hell's choice.
Temptations Spa by Quefish (E)
Crowley is a demon who owns many businesses designed to get the humans rolling in the Seven Deadlies. Aziraphale is an angel who owns a bookshop. An advert brings Aziraphale to Temptations Spa where they meet for the first time.
The Long Way Around by redundant_angel (M)
Aziraphale and Crowley never meet in Eden and the pair go on through time believing that other is the enemy. With Armageddon quickly approaching, Crowley is sent on an important assignment: to kill the angel and retrieve the flaming sword.
Things go sideways, however, when Crowley is severely injured. As Aziraphale naively nurses the demon back to health, Crowley begins to wonder if he'll be able to go through with it after all...
The Angel Heaven Forgot (& the Demon who flipped off Hell on his way out) by ximeria (M)
Somewhere around the death of Jesus, Aziraphale started wondering if anyone paid him any attention. By 1100AD he was quite sure and by 1800 he thought 'sod it' and opened a bookstore in Soho.
This is canon divergent from the Garden of Eden. Aziraphale and Crowley do not meet and yet the End Times are still foiled (though who knows how - maybe an angel and a demon weren't all that necessary after all). Instead Aziraphale runs into Crowley and they end up striking up a friendship.
The Way Home by GiggleSnortBangDead (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley meet in 1979 while working on a film adaptation of an Ezra Fell novel. Aziraphale just had another fight with Gabriel and is looking for something casual, even if it's with a human. Crowley is not a human, but Aziraphale doesn't know that. In Crowley's defense, he also doesn't know that Aziraphale's not a human.
Aziraphale and Crowley meet again in 2019 while working on a film adaptation of the same Ezra Fell novel.
- Mod D
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princessfbi · 1 year
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Safe Here (With You) 
How’s your shift going?
Traitorously and because Buck was a glutton for punishment, his eyes slid up from his phone and scanned the bay until he spotted Eddie jumping out of the ambulance with the fluid ease of someone getting comfortable in his surroundings.
But what was he supposed to say? Gee, Maddie, not great, to be honest. My dom partner ended up showing up at the one good thing I had going for me and I’m just waiting for my friends to realize I can’t compete with Mr. Perfect. He’s also pissed at me for some reason and it kind of feels like we broke up a few hours ago and I don’t know why. But it’s fine because eventually my boss will fire me again and none of my friends will want to hang out with me anymore.
That felt like a lot.
aka Buck and Eddie handle working a shift after their first scene.
Part 3 of Kink Club AU
Rated: E | One Shot | Words: 20,448
Read on Ao3
Banner by the magnificent @mellaithwen
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steviewashere · 3 months
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Return to Sender
Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove (A Warning in Itself), Eddie Munson (E.M.)
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
General Audiences (May Change, but Will Not be Explicit)
CW: Use of the word Queer (as a slur, from Tommy) mentioned briefly and not at all lingered on
Tags: Pre-Season 2, Rewriting Canon, Though Keeping to Main Canon Events (i.e. Steve getting roped into finding Dart, Billy smashing in Steve's face, The junkyard, etc.), Eddie Munson has ADHD, Steve is Self-Deprecating, Teasing Banter (sort of), Steve has Shitty Parents
This is Part 2! To read Part One, follow the link here!
-------- It dawns on Steve that trying to find somebody by their little hobby of drug dealing is going to be tougher than he thought. He can't just ask anybody. And it's not like he can make some bulletin board statement or put an advertisement in the newspaper. What would that even look like?
Local Teenage Boy Who's Seen Some Shit Is Now Seeing Cute Little Locker Notes! Looking For Inquiries About A Drug Dealer With The Initials E.M.! Will Give "The Best Sex" You've Ever Had a Run For Their Money as Reward!
Yeah, he can't imagine that looking very well.
Not for him. Not for the other person involved. And he doesn't want to lose these little notes that he now looks forward to every time he goes to grab an assignment or a textbook or his lunch money. Because, what he's still reeling about, the notes keep coming. With not a single sign of stopping.
Little things. Like telling him how amazing he looks in his new polo shirts, to not listen to the scoffing of Tommy Hagan—who keeps telling Steve that he looks like a "Queer little prep." (Which, Steve's not sure how he's been found out in that regard. He hopes Tommy can keep a secret. But, knowing the history they share, he definitely can't.) And there was one with the answers to the math homework he was doing last minute at breakfast in the cafeteria, which were all correct, and Steve found himself giddily smiling over the big fat letter 'A' on the header of his paper. So, the notes are getting to be more frequent. They're nice. He loves them.
The only question is:
How the fuck is he supposed to find this person?
He began with the, albeit, dumbest way first. Standing vigil near his locker. Watching for anybody that looks like they're about to leave a note. A few girls wander near, but they don't mess with his locker. No, they flock to the other side of the hall to mess with Billy's. He scoffed when they did. And while he was busy watching them, he noticed at the glance back of his own locker, a new note.
It wasn't a very long one. Just:
"Have a good day, man. Also, stop watching random girls. You look like a creep. -E.M."
Steve physically slapped himself on the forehead when he reread it. Of course he missed his opportunity. Because he was distracted with some other mindless thing. That thing not only being those girls, but also stupid fucking Billy Hargrove. He always manages to find a way to ruin Steve's day, even without physically doing or saying something. He grumbled with the note tightly in his grip and stomped away to his last class of the day.
Then, when standing by his locker proved to be futile, he lurked in the cafeteria. Watching the tables. For somebody who was nose deep in a slew of little slips of paper, scattered near their hands, a blue pen secure in their hand. But—
He was the only one truly alone at a table. And the crowds of people at the other lunch tables made him nervous. So, he stopped watching. Besides, everybody was too busy talking to one another.
His locker didn't have a note at the end of the day. He was bummed about it.
Steve came to the conclusion on that day, Random person doesn't want me to be lurking. Or at least, that's what it seems like. Either he gets caught doing something he shouldn't be doing, or he can't actually see anything. Because there's nothing to see.
Some of his other ideas fell through.
Looking through last year's yearbook. Asking a few random students in the hallway if they knew an E.M., but they only rolled their eyes and shoved past him. (He's not used to that. Being ignored by the people around him. Maybe with his parents, but school life is supposed to be different than his home life. He doesn't like that the two are now bleeding together.) He even attempted the phone book. But that was a bust. There were probably thirty names to go through. And he didn't know which ones were teenagers in high school. And he seriously didn't want to call each one and ask: "Hey, are you the person that's leaving notes in my locker?" What kind of creep would that make him? An obsessive one, probably.
At least the student obsessed with giving him notes isn't bothering tons of other people in the process. At least this elusive stranger has morals and values.
He's growing frustrated, though. The longer this drags out. But he just has to...wait. Be patient. See if he can catch his secret admirer off guard.
In the mean time, he attends his classes. The ones that hold all the information for him to graduate, but all the knowledge goes into one ear and leaks out the other. He falls asleep at his desks from time to time. And since he's no longer on the basketball team, his schedule is wide open for after school detentions. Great, he thinks as he holds the pink detention slip in his hand today. Because what I need is proof that I'm still a failure, no matter what I do.
But he swallows his pride. Well, what's left of it. Some meager crumbs and a couple laps of liquid bravery that paint his insides like dried acrylic paint. Shuffles over to his locker at the end of his fourth period. Stuffs his oversized backpack onto the hook. Rustles around with some textbooks—maybe he can attempt his math homework; attempt is a strong word. He'' probably just stare at it and doodle a few drawings in the margins, hoping for time to pass.
There's a white slip of paper wedged between two books.
"Tough luck, Stevie. Maybe you'll get a proper nap at home once you power through detention. Believe me, the pent up frustration will knock you clean out. -E.M."
Steve scoffs. Crumples up the little thing into an even smaller ball. Tosses it at the metal backing of his locker. And watches as it bounces down pathetically to the floor. Embarrassingly, he finds himself on the verge of tears. Could my senior year get any worse, he asks nobody. But groans aloud as he picks up the paper once more and pockets it instead.
Textbook in hand and a wrinkled homework sheet in the other, he's on his not so merry way.
When he gets to the detention classroom, he's the only senior in it. Well, other than that overtime senior, Eddie Munson. He takes his seat next to Eddie, near the back, a textbook and homework sheet dutifully laid out on the desk, and his eyes stubbornly locked to it. Just to make sure it looks like they're not talking. Because he seriously doesn't want to be the only one in here. Sure, there's what appears to be a couple sophomores spaced out on the left side of the classroom. A few girls that he recognizes from Nancy's school year, all huddled around each other and whispering not so soft under their breath. But it's just him and Eddie in the back right corner. And hopefully he doesn't get reprimanded, forced to sit somewhere else, he isn't sure he can take anymore awful shit in his day.
However, it seems like it can get worse. His calculus homework. It's not something he knows well, having cheated off of one of those locker notes. Sparing his life of cognitive embarrassment, having to prove himself to maintain his average 'C' grade for sports this year. I'm not getting accepted to college, why the fuck do I have to do this shit, he has to wonder. It's giving him a dull headache.
The problem that's getting him:
What is the integral of the function f(x) = sin 2x?
He wants to slam his head onto the surface of his desk until he's just a mound of bloody, pulpy meat. He's better with English literature, surprisingly enough. Even if the words move a little bit, it's better than whatever garbage he's looking at now. It's like the problem knows he doesn't understand. It's like it has teeth, gaining and baring and wanting to chop off his fingers. It's like—
Something taps on the corner of his desk.
Looking up from his paper, agitated and exhausted, he finds the eraser end of Eddie's pencil clacking against the wood of his desk. Growling, he asks, "What the hell do you want, Munson?" Adding, huffed and close to giving up, "I'm trying to do my homework."
Eddie just grins at him. "I know, dude," he snarks. "We're in Mr. Nelson's class together, remember? I've got the answers, if you want them."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right," he mutters. "Like you'd know. I know for a fact that you have an F in calc, why should I trust that you actually have the right answer?"
"Oh, that's simple," Eddie chirps. "I know my shit. Just don't turn in my assignments. You know—" He gestures vaguely at his head. "—I got that new diagnosis, ADHD. The thing that sort of makes you forgetful, or whatever? I know it, I'm just...Not on the money with turning it in on time."
"ADHD?" Steve can't help but asks, somewhat suspicious. "What does that even mean? Are you just making that up? There's no way—"
"Look," Eddie interrupts, voice short and firm, "do you want help on your homework or do you want me to explain shit that I know you won't retain? Because I could sit here and describe the whole thing, get you bored and distracted, and send you off on your way even more dumb and lost than when you entered in here. Or...I could tell you the answers and make you look better in front of Mr. Nelson and your basketball team."
Steve huffs. "I'm not stupid," he argues, voice weak. "And besides, I'm not on basketball anymore. So..." He sighs, defeated. His eyes fall back to his blank homework assignment. And he can feel his eyes begin to burn from embarrassment. Maybe I am stupid, he thinks, Maybe I'm no better than some super senior. "Can you just show me what to do, without making fun of me? I get that I was a jackass in the past, but this week has been rough. I just need to get through the end of it." He knows that to his own ears that he sounds like a petulant, begging little kid. And knows, too, that it's not a good look on him. His dad doesn't like it. Coach didn't like it. Mr. Nelson and Nancy Wheeler and Tommy Hagan and...Nobody likes it when he sounds like this. When he's a sight for sore eyes, down on his luck, ready to just curl up in a ball and melt into the floor.
He drags a hand quickly over his eyes, trying to wipe away at the wetness barely coating him. Sniffs back whatever emotion is still souring his throat. And keeps his line of sight pointed downwards. “I—Never mind, you probably don’t want to help some jerk. Especially one that just made fun of whatever you…whatever you said. God—“ He chuckles something deeply self-deprecating. “—You were right. Can’t even fucking remember what you just said. Can’t remember how to do math. Can’t remember…My head hurts and I’m tired and this just sucks. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to come off so shitty,” his voice strains, though spits. Guess wiping my eyes did nothing, he notes, watching something wet drip down onto the desk.
“Steve,” he can hear Eddie breathe. “It’s fine, dude. I didn’t take any offense. Nobody knows about my shit, it’s fine. I was just giving you a hard time.” Steve looks up briefly at that. “I don’t even know why, if I’m being honest. You seem like you’re better, but maybe I’m wrong?” Eddie shakes his head. “Just let me see your paper. Act like you’re studying your textbook, I’ll do your assignment.”
“How am I supposed to learn if you do it for me?” Steve asks wetly.
“You’ll learn, I’m sure of it. Just give it here.”
At the end of the detention period, his homework is completely filled out. It looks correct, better than what Steve could ever possibly do. He has to go to the bathroom, stops inside, erases some of the correct math and fills in with his own scratchy handwriting, goes through his whole restroom routine, and returns to his locker.
Only to find another note.
“See? Detention wasn’t that bad, you survived! Now, take a nap at home. Relax. You’ll be alright. Senior year will be a breeze for you, I’m sure of it. -E.M.”
If only mystery person knew that taking roses to Nancy Wheeler leads to weird creatures that eat raw meat, tunnels and fire, and a beaten face.
If only he knew how to lick his own wounds. When he gets to his locker the day after him and Billy fight, he finds one more note.
“Okay, maybe I was wrong about this being a breeze. Meet me in the woods, picnic table, sit and wait for me. Think it’s time I show myself. Get you a friend around here. Someone who’d be willing to kill Hargrove if asked. -E.M.”
-------- Some Notes:
Did you know that ADHD was not an official diagnosis until the 1980s? So it's literally brand new here. Also, gotta get them to have a little bit of rivalry—something akin to a rivalry, at least, before they can be buddies and then lovers and then rivals again. Hehe, I love angst. <3
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oldfangirl81 · 7 months
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Laura Hale watched her brother rant at their new neighbors. She couldn't wait to tell this story in her wedding toast. It was only a matter of time. She noticed the roommate watching Stiles and Derek argue with amusement too. Seems like she wasn't the only one to see the obvious chemistry.
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