#I’m not opposed to reuploading it tbh

[daydadahlias]

have you ever written a story with a non linear narrative and would you ever wanna write such a story (again or for the first time depending on your answer to the first question)

sending love xx

oo what a delightfully specific question!! I’ve written two stories that are non-linear! One i wrote for Panic! called “Death Doesn’t Deter Me” which was a mix of current timeline and flashbacks. And then the other one I wrote was for 5sos (it was a sequel to my pornstar au Portable Player) and that was just a mix of timelines! I was honestly super proud of how that fic worked but it’s currently private and not on ao3, sorry!

And, yeah, I totally would write another one !! They’re a lot of fun to piece together!!! I just don’t usually have fics that call for that kind of literary device! But I do love it!!

[s6lars]

reds and yellows.

gavi’s temper has gotten the best of him on the pitch and you propose a solution to calm him down. (wc: 4.8k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. pg6 x reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! established relationship, switch!gavi, little to no plot just filth tbh

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, explicit nsfw content; unprotected sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, oral (m&f), impact play, implied aftercare

𝐀/𝐍. reupload from 888bear. this was initially written towards the end of last season, before the 2nd leg against atletico (and before his injury 💔). probably my last reupload in a while, enjoy!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you yelled, irritated at the scenes unfolding before you at Camp Nou. The bright yellow card being raised in Gavi’s direction was visible from the stands miles away.

Strings of curse words can be heard as the crowd around you begin to hurl protests toward the referee’s actions. The shared anger of the fans only riles you up further, despite your best attempts at keeping composure.

To take the ball from the opposing team, Gavi slides in front of the player carrying it. His foot makes contact with the man, only grazing it slightly, but the player dramatically falls to the ground, clutching his calf in pain. 

Gavi and the Barca players saw right through the player’s theatrics, yet their arguing failed to stop him from being booked. Again. He had amassed several yellow cards in the previous few months alone, and he’s missed key matches as a result. It was starting to become a habit.

This feat, was easily used against him by his opponents. They would purposely start a dispute with Gavi — be it in the form of a nudge, trash-talking, or straight-up foul play. All they had to do was sit back and wait for him to take the bait, which usually ended in a yellow card, or his performance deteriorating as his anger levels increased.

As much as you loved him and were willing to defend him, you couldn’t deny the truth. Sometimes, Gavi doesn’t know how to keep his anger in check.

You knew something had to be done about it, and the match you watched was the final straw.

About a week later, you two were cuddled in bed at Gavi’s house. He had to leave for a game against Atlético Madrid early the next morning. It had become a tradition for you to stay the night before Gavi had to leave for an away game, especially if you couldn’t tag along.

Your head rested on Gavi’s bare chest while his right arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you snugly against him. The topic of his recent performances comes up in your usual late-night talks, his fingers drawing circles on your back as he speaks.

“Amor, you know I love you forever, right?” you asked, looking up to meet his brown eyes.

“Of course.”

You took a deep breath before you spoke. “People are right. You can get too angry sometimes.”

Gavi throws his head back on the pillow, his eyes now fixated on the ceiling as he huffs in frustration. His free hand ruffles through his loose brown locks. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

You wriggle free from his grip and prop yourself sideways on one elbow, looking down at him with a softened gaze. The criticism (which borders on hate most of the time) that Gavi receives has always been a sensitive topic to you both.

“Everyone around me says that. I’ve been working on it. But, it’s just hard when everyone keeps taunting me about it. Like, sometimes, I’ll just be walking and then some dude elbows me in the back to try to get me riled up. Or, when everyone expects you to play aggressively because that’s all they chalk me up as, apparently,” he rants. 

Your hand travels up his body and lands on his cheek, cupping it gently. Gavi leans into your touch as your thumb rubs the soft skin back and forth, giving him unspoken reassurance.

“And I’m scared for the next game against Atléti. They’re a really strong club and we’ve had our fair share of fights, I guess, in the past. If I get booked, I’ll miss the next match,” Gavi explains.

An idea popped into your head. It was something you’ve been thinking of for the past week, and now it was the perfect opportunity to present it to him.

“How about…” You were now fully sitting up, your hand moving from Gavi’s cheek to his abdomen. “...we make a deal?”

Gavi’s head tilts in confusion. “What deal?”

“If you can go the next match without getting booked, you get a reward.”

“What kind of reward?”

Biting your lip, you throw one leg over Gavi’s thighs, hovering over his frame, your hands now on opposite sides of his head. Your actions take Gavi by surprise, yet his hands instinctively move to grip your waist. You lean your head lower until your lips come in contact with his earlobe, brushing the flesh gently. 

“This kind of reward.”

Your lips hungrily leave a trail of kisses behind his ear, trailing down his neck and latching onto his sweet spot. Gavi groans at the feeling, his head leaning to the side to allow you more access. His hands travel down your body, taking in the feel of your curves before stopping at your ass, gripping the flesh. 

You stop your assault on his neck to prevent any marks from forming, instead resorting to pressing your lips to his. Taking his bottom lip in between your teeth, you pulled away lightly before closing the gap once more. You waste no time swiping your tongue against the flesh, slipping past his lips. Gavi moans into your mouth, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his fingers tangled in your hair as your lips mold against each other.

You pulled away and sat up straight, admiring the state you left Gavi in. His pupils were blown out, his lips were swollen and glossy, and beads of sweat were forming in his ruffled hair. The heat between your thighs grows by the minute as your body screams at you to do something about it.

Placing your palms flat on his chest, you slide lower down his torso until your core eventually comes in contact with his growing bulge. A synced moan erupts from both of you, your bodies desperate to align.

You lift your hips by just a few inches and plant them back down. You repeat this action a few times until you find a steady rhythm, rocking back and forth on Gavi’s crotch. You can feel how painfully hard he is beneath your equally throbbing core. 

“Ah, fuck, amor…” you whine in ecstasy, knowing how much Gavi loves it when you get vocal. “Feels so good.”

Gavi’s breathing becomes rapid as you pick up the pace. His hips buck up to meet your movements, moans and whines spilling out from his throat every second.

“God, don’t stop.” Gavi’s hands find the straps of your pajamas, tugging the string down your shoulder to free your breasts. His hand grips the mound of flesh, squeezing it in his palm, causing you to throw your head back.

Fire coursed through your veins, concentrated on the movement between your thighs. You’re sure the dripping wetness has stained Gavi’s sweats at this point, a testament to your pleasure. A whimper leaves your lips every time your clothed clit rubs against the coarse fabric, the sound echoing within the room.

Your movements become more erratic as your hand reaches up to fix your hair, grinding harder to chase your high. The sight was nothing short of art to Gavi, seeing the mess you’ve made yourself on top of him. Your desperate mewls reaching his ears only egged him on further.

Gavi’s chest is heaving and his eyes struggle to remain open. His moans were growing louder and his head was almost completely thrown back, letting you know he was close to coming undone. 

Gavi feels the flames pooling in his lower abdomen. His hips begin to stutter as he feels his cock pulsating inside his sweatpants, aching to finish. He closes his eyes shut, feeling small beads of sweat form on his temples. 

It was then that you lifted yourself off of him completely, abruptly ending your movements. Gavi’s head snaps up at the sudden loss of contact, totally confused.

You reached over to your side of the bed, turning off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in total darkness. You fix your top and lay down beside him, pulling the covers up.

“It’s getting late. You need to be up early tomorrow,” you said, planting a kiss on Gavi’s cheek and turning away from him.

Your movements happened so quickly that it took several minutes for Gavi to process them. He props himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily as he tries to understand what just happened.

In the dark, right beside him, a mischievous grin crept up on your face. You had left him flustered and painfully hard just moments away from release. To be fair, it was painful for you too, but the thought of your plan commencing made up for it.

Gavi looks down next to him, seeing you bundled underneath the sheets. He knows you’re not waking up to finish what you started. Begrudgingly, he lies under the covers to join you. He only wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping his lower body as far away from you as possible.

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed. Gavi had left for his travels, the sticky note on his side of the bed telling you so. You couldn’t wait for what could unfold in the coming days.

Gavi sits on the bench in the Metropolitano dressing room, Atlético Madrid’s stadium. He bounces his leg impatiently, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness for the game ahead. He’s on his phone, replying to some final texts of support before he heads to the tunnel.

Among the sea of notifications, he finds yours at the very top.

[19:36] mi vida 💗: good luck baby !!! i love you no matter what 🥰 go out there and kill it !!

Gavi smiles to himself reading your text. You always made sure to cheer him on in whatever way possible before a game, be it via text, Facetime, or being there in person. He was the luckiest person on Earth to have you.

At home, you were sitting on your living room couch, across the TV, patiently waiting for the kick-off to start. 

When Gavi replies to your text, you realize he was still in the dressing rooms. You thought he had already left for the tunnel and wouldn’t respond until after the game. Knowing this, another idea popped into your head. You’ve been getting a lot of them recently.

You tugged your shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor. There was a body-length mirror right next to the TV, visible from one corner of the sofa. 

Maybe Gavi needed a little more motivation before he played.

[19:38] mi vida 💗: [sent a photo]

When Gavi opened your next notifications, it took everything in him not to spit out his mouthful of Gatorade. 

You were sitting on the couch, wearing Gavi’s home kit. The hem of the shirt was lifted, in between your teeth, partially exposing your bare chest. Your knees were pressed together and folded to the side, displaying the fact you weren’t wearing anything underneath. The sight has Gavi’s eyes bulging out of their sockets, and if it weren’t for Xavi letting the boys know it was time to head out, he would’ve stared at it for hours.

Gavi only had thoughts of you in his head as he walked to the tunnel. He desperately tries to shake them off to focus on the game ahead, and the deal you proposed the day before. To the people around him, Gavi only looked nervous. In reality, he was battling sinful images in his mind. He was yelling at his brain to stop the tent in his shorts from growing further, hoping his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is.

You watched intently from the comfort of your home as the match commenced, signaled by the blow of the whistle. Gavi was in the starting lineup (as usual), and it didn’t take long for the game to get intense.

Gavi dribbles the ball into the box, and the Atléti defenders in front of him attempt to block his moves. As they press him harder, he takes a chance and shoots, but it ends up going wide. Gavi sinks to his knees in frustration, strikes the grass, and walks off. You debate to yourself if that counts as getting aggressive, but decide otherwise as he wasn’t taking it out on a player. 

The risk of getting booked comes when Gavi is dribbling the ball again, making moves toward the enemy goal. Suddenly, a player runs up from behind, pushing him forward, and causing him to tumble toward the ground. Usually, Gavi would get up in an instant, chasing down the player and getting his payback.

Instead, you watched as he stayed sitting on the grass, arms raised in confusion. Gavi’s teammates do the dirty work for him, some confronting the player while others attempted to prevent a fight from happening. In the midst of all this, Gavi stayed away from the commotion, pacing angrily in circles. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his actions, seeing the drastic contrast to how he regularly acted. The fact that you were the cause only inflated your ego more. Your plan was working.

Through the remainder of the game, you watched as similar events unfold. Another opportunity rose for Gavi to blow up in a rage, only for him to wipe his sweat and catch his breath. His collectedness aided Barca in winning the game, earning them a valuable three points.

Hours later, once the players had cleared the stadium and completed all their necessary press conferences, you received a text from Gavi. It was nearing midnight and you were tucked under the covers, ready to fall asleep.

[23:11] gavisito 🤍: so [23:11] gavisito 🤍: how’d i do

You knew you were in for a hell of a ride when he lands tomorrow morning.

[23:11] you: hmmmmmm [23:11] you: let’s just say [23:11] you: your reward is waiting when you get home <3

The clock ticked to exactly 3 pm when you heard your doorbell ring. You walked from the kitchen into your house entrance, expecting only one person to be behind the door.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend. Gavi’s hands are full with his belongings and he’s wearing Barca training wear, indicating that he drove straight to your place after landing in Barcelona. The sight prompts a soft chuckle out of you. You step aside to let him in, the youngster dropping his bags in the hallway.

“Welcome back, mi ganador,” you cooed, coiling your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Gavi grips your waist, holding you close to him, taking in your embrace. Resting your forehead on his, you look up at his glimmering brown eyes. “Congrats on the win. You played well.”

It was a sweet, intimate moment between you two. Somewhere in the air, there was a sense of anticipation — a buildup to something you’d been waiting for since last night.

Gavi’s eyes trail down your figure, taking in the blue-red shirt a few sizes larger than you that hugged your frame. You were still wearing his shirt from watching the game last night. All the thoughts that flood his mind only lead him to recall the few minutes before the match, you in the same outfit, in a much more revealing position. 

Gavi’s fingers toy with the hem of the jersey. “I didn’t get booked.”

“I know.” Your fingers entangle themselves into his hair. “I’m proud of you.”

“Proud enough for a reward?”

Those words were all it took for you to smash your lips against his. It was a full 180 from the kiss prior, laced with hunger and lust, hands reaching for anything to pull the other closer than they already were.

You two stumble into the living room, your lips only parting to discard Gavi’s shirt and joggers, immediately reconnecting in desperation. You alternate between coiling around his neck or placing it on his shoulders, either way, you were the one in control.

The back of Gavi’s knees hit the sofa leg, causing him to fall back on the plush surface. Your palms land flat on either side of his head, hovering over his body. You two pulled away, breathless, lips swollen and the air knocked out of your lungs.

Lifting yourself higher, you tilt your head to question him. “How should I reward you, amor?”

Your right  hand traces the curves and ridges of Gavi’s chest, nails lightly grazing the skin, making him shiver. You follow his happy trail lower down his torso until you land dangerously close to the waistband of his boxers.

“Should we pick up where we left off?” you teased, recollecting two nights ago when you two were in this exact position. Gavi shakes his head, refusing.

You were now sitting on his upper thighs, your left hand moving to cup his cheeks. Your thumb swipes the flesh a few times before tracing the outline of his bottom lip, stopping at the corner of his mouth.

“Use your words, cariño.”

“I want to feel your mouth around me.” 

You step off him completely, tucking the hair behind your ears as Gavi sits up straight on the couch. His hands quickly move to discard his last piece of clothing, leaving him bare before you.

Gavi leans back comfortably against the back of the sofa, extending his arms while you sit next to him. Taking his chin in between your fingers, you slot your mouth over his as your other hand goes to reach his cock, now free from the restraint of his boxers. 

You give him a few pumps, capturing the low grunts escaping Gavi’s mouth with yours. After a few moments, you pull away, leaning down to give his length the attention he desperately craved.

Your lips ghost over his tip, giving it a few kitten licks as Gavi’s hand lands on your back. You push your head down, just barely taking him in your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t tease,” he groans. You look up at him through your eyelashes, expecting more words. 

“Please.”

You finally push your head down, taking him in your mouth fully. With one drawn out moan, Gavi throws his head back on the sofa, eyes shut in pleasure. 

You bob your head up and down his cock at a steady pace, hands stroking what your mouth can’t fit. Gavi reaches to pull the hair away from your face — partly to help you, partly to see his name donned across your back on full display. 

His calloused hands travel lower down your spine, stopping at your ass to grip it. The contact has you moaning, the sound vibrating against his length. 

“God, you feel like heaven,” Gavi praises, his hips bucking up to meet your movements. It takes you some effort to not gag around him. 

Moans begin to spill from Gavi’s mouth at a rapid rate, his chest heaves quicker, and he struggles to stay still. You only pick up the pace, hollowing your cheeks to aid him in chasing his high.

Gavi moans your name over and over, like it’s the only word he knows. Your escapades from a few nights before and the added distance of the away game had made him extra sensitive.

You lift yourself off of him with a pop sound, your hand continuing to stroke him feverently. Gavi’s stares at you with lost eyes, his pupils shaking at the sudden loss of contact. You gently cup his cheek and press your foreheads together, hovering your lips over his.

“Shh, I know, bebé,” you reassured, promising that you wouldn’t leave him completely hanging like last time. You swing a leg over his thighs, straddling him. Gavi’s hands instinctively move to grip your waist, his eyes never wavering from yours. His fucked-out state, despite only being sucked off, has you chuckling under your breath.

With one hand on his cock and the other tugging your underwear to the side, you fully sink onto his length, relishing the way he fills you up. You two moan in unison, the noise erupted borderline pornographic, bouncing off the.

Once your ass was flush against his thighs, your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. Slowly, agonizingly, you lift yourself off of him completely, Gavi hissing at the sensation. You whine in ecstasy as you grind his tip against your clit before sinking back down onto him in one swift motion. 

You begin to move up and down his length at a steady rhythm. It didn’t take long for you to quicken the pace of your movements, riding his cock mercilessly as Gavi can only sit back and watch.

His lip is caught in between his teeth, biting back moans as his eyelids struggle to remain at the sight of you bouncing on his length. Your hands reach up to his throat, adding the slightest amount of aggression as you press your nose to his, glaring into his eyes.

Your thumb swipes across his bottom lip, gathering the spit and smearing it to his cheek. “Don’t hold back, amor,” you instructed, your voice low and demanding. “Let me hear how good it feels.”

Your words have an immediate effect on the youngster as a filthy, guttural moan is ejected from his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Gavi whines, his lips trembling.

Gavi’s hands travel up the sides of your torso, dragging the hem of your (or his, you should say) jersey up with him, stopping just below your chest. He groans when he realizes you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

You take the hem in your fingers and move to take it between your teeth, exposing your breasts to his face. Gavi swears he could faint at the sight, blinking rapidly to ensure he wasn’t dreaming. You were recreating the picture you’d sent him yesterday, except you were now in the flesh, connected and full of him. 

Gavi’s tongue darts at your left nipple and you bite down harder at the fabric, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. His hand goes to grab your right, squeezing and playing with the mound. 

When Gavi rolls the hard nub between his teeth, you release a shriek muffled by the shirt. His lips hover in between the valley of your breasts before moving to do the same with the other. 

You drop the hem from your mouth, letting it fall back down your body. Your head was overwhelmed with the mixed sensation of euphoria and slight pain from riding him, but you can easily forget the latter once you feel Gavi’s hands snake between your thighs to rub circles on your clit.

“Fuck, bebé, I need you taste you, please,” Gavi begs, looking up at you to wait for your response. You can only nod feverishly before pulling away, sitting beside him.

Gavi moves to kneel on the sofa, and before you know it, his hands push you into the cushions, leaving your ass hanging in the air. The feeling of cold air on your sensitive core elicits a sharp inhale from you, morphing into mewls when you feel Gavi’s palm land harshly on your exposed bottom.

“Fuck! Gavi!” you cry out in pleasure. He drags his fingers down the inside of your thighs, feeling your wetness spread before roughly spanking you again. You arch your back further, elbows completely giving up on supporting your weight. 

“So fucking wet.” His fingers rub up and down your folds, spreading the slick around your sopping core. All sense of dominance in you from before had evaporated as you became a writhing, whining mess under him.

“All this for me, yeah?” Gavi taunts. 

“Just — ah — just for you, amor.” You don’t have to look at Gavi to know he has the biggest smirk splattered across his face. 

You feel his cold breath fan your pussy, barely making contact before diving in completely. Gavi lapped at your juices, devouring your core as he stroked his cock with his free hand. A string of incoherent curses and praises tumble from your mouth, getting louder by the second.

All of a sudden, Gavi stops, sitting straight up. With whatever strength you could muster, you turned over your shoulder to look at his actions. His left hand grips your ass, the other roughly stroking his length as he brings the tip closer to where you needed him most.

Gavi rapidly taps the head of his cock, red and throbbing, against your clit. You claw at the material of the couch beneath you — the sound of your needy mewls, the sloppy noises coming from your pussy, and Gavi’s low grunts resonating throughout the room.

With one swift motion, Gavi enters you completely, knocking the air clean out your lungs. Your throat feels dry from the filthy noises it’s been making, only encouraging him further. Gavi gives you no time to adjust, pulling out until he leaves you empty before slamming right back into you. 

“Those Atléti players targeted me for no reason yesterday,” he says — pulling out, then slamming back into you a second time. 

“Pissed me off so bad.” A third time.

Your legs tremble with each move, knees buckling below your weight, but you muster enough strength to look over your shoulder at him, almost chuckling.

“Hmm?” you questioned. “Show me how bad.”

Gavi doesn’t pull out  this time, instead he begins ramming into you at an unforgivable tempo, taking out all his anger on you. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping and repeated moans, probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but you could care less. 

Gavi is drunk on the sight before him. The way your ass bounces against him with every stroke, his name exhibited in bold letters on your back, yourself a squirming, whimpering mess. He could live forever in the moment, taking in the feel of your walls clenching around him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises. “So beautiful beneath me.”

Gavi’s hands collect the stray hair strands spilling onto your back, turning it into a makeshift ponytail. He leans over and you feel his breath tickle his ears. You feel him plant a few soft kisses along your neck, brushing your earlobe occasionally.

“Gavi, fuck, don’t stop.” The new position allows him to reach a deeper angle than before, mercilessly thrusting into your g-spot. Gavi revels in the obscene noises escaping your parted lips, smirking against your skin. 

“I’m close,” you plead, and Gavi can tell from the way your walls clench tighter around his cock. He can’t last for much longer, either.

“Go on, cum for me, amor.” You can only moan in response. “Make a mess all over my cock.”

His words send you into overdrive — tears well in the corner of your eyes, electricity coursing through your body as your vision goes white. Your climax washes over you in waves as you fully collapse on the sofa, your cheek pressing against the material.

Gavi pulls out and flips you onto your back, pumping his length in his hands. It takes you a few moments to come down from your high while he chases his own. Thick ropes of cum ejects from his cock and paints your aching core white, dripping down and spilling onto the sofa.

With your remaining stamina, you collect the juices between your thighs, a mix of your release and his, and pump two fingers inside of yourself, hissing at the overstimulation. 

Gavi’s eyes are glued to your movements, captured in a trance as you touch yourself. You pulled out, taking the digits into your mouth, wiping them clean. 

Your hand grabs the back of his neck, pulling Gavi down to press your mouth over his, allowing him to taste himself. With one final drawn out kiss, you rest your forehead against his, feeling your breathing slow down.

Gavi collapses on top of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your hand reaches to tangle itself in his ruffled hair, scratching his head. You can hear him sigh in content as you wrap your other arm around him, pulling him in closer.

“That was…” Gavi breathes out.

“…fucking amazing,” you finish the sentence, eliciting a soft chuckle out of him.

“You should reward me more often.”

“I will if you get booked less often.”

“I’m making a conscious effort.”

You press your nose on his scalp, planting a soft kiss on his head. “I know, bebé. When’s your next match?”

Gavi’s head turns to look up at you. “In two weeks. We have a day off tomorrow, then it’s back to training.”

“Good. Because I don’t think I can walk, and I need someone to help me get around.” A smile slowly works its way onto Gavi’s face. 

He wriggles free from your grip, standing from the couch. Taking you into his arms, he picks you up bridal style and carries you into the bedroom for some much needed rest. 

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Do you have any future fanfic story ideas for Bangel and Lomax right now?

Uhh... I feel like I’ve started a few where Angel becomes human--and I’ve already written one oneshot where that happened--but I don’t know if I’ll post or finish them, since I do seem to go for that idea a lot. I think I started another story for them that wasn’t this--it might have been what could have happened if Buffy was turned by some random vampire. Like, Angel trying to help her through that, and to ignore her worst impulses, and to find a way to get her soul back?--but I don’t know what I did with it... if that’s even what I was writing about. I don’t remember. This is the problem with me writing before I’m about to fall asleep. If nothing else, I’ve thought of that AU a bit, even if I’m wrong that I ever started writing it.

I also really want to write Dawn’s PoV about everything that happened with the Bangel storyline. One day when I was at work, I mapped it all out in my head... but now I remember none of it. But I’m sure a lot of it could come back, if I sat down to write it.

As for Dark Angel, I’m currently writing an AU for season one... where Max convinces Logan to have a sibling-like relationship with her--since that’s what she’s used to (and that won’t last, of course)--to see how that would change the story... and it’s actually leading to a lot of Max’s siblings be saved unlike in canon somehow? So I guess that’s why I called it “Saving the Siblings”. A wonderful title, I know. But while I definitely plan to work on and finish this story when I have the time, I was thinking my one Kairi from Kingdom Hearts story would be at the forefront of my writing priorities right now... but I might be changing my mind on that some, and last night I actually started chapter three for this DA story.

I also have written a oneshot AU, where it actually was Ben’s body at the morgue in Pollo Loco, and Max agreed to having dinner with Logan so he could try and cheer her up some. I just need to edit and post it...

I’m definitely not opposed to writing more Dark Angel in the future. I used to have so many ideas (like an alternate season two I was working on, but--tbh--as much as I rag on season two, and this story was supposed to be “better” than it, I think some of the actual season two were ending up being better than this. Maybe that would have changed in an edit, but IDK), but I stupidly deleted a lot of them because they were via text messages I sent to myself on my phone. I didn’t know about Sticky Notes at the time.

I’m also thinking about reuploading some of the Lomax stories I’d written, like, last year, but deleted when I recently got rid of all of my old social media accounts and made new ones. We’ll see.

Also, I just want you to know I got your ask about my favorite Buffy and Dark Angel videos. And I swear I’ll answer it... it just might take me some time to think of all of them. LOL

Edit: And yeeeeeeeeears ago, this one Lomax writer wrote this oneshot for them that ended open-ended on purpose, so that other Lomax writers could write their own ideas as a sequel/response to it. And this was such a fun idea, and I loved all of them. And I’ve thought of answering it myself, because no one used my idea. Basically, Logan asked Max if she could be any profession she wanted... without having to worry about things being in the way, what would she choose to be? And my answer was chef... because she loved food, and partly went to Logan’s for good food. And she did learn how to cook some during the series, when originally she knew nothing, so I could have seen her choosing to expand on that--if she could--and learning how to be a culinary master for herself.

Edit 2: I also love to write a lot of Dark Angel stories with Jondy--often in the Lomax ones. And she’s certainly in a lot of the ones I’m even thinking of reuploading--because I’m still mad the how and books never let Max find her favorite sister. At least the Virtual seasons gave us that... and a Zack/Jondy pairing, which is another reason I do prefer them to the Max Allen Collins books, even though I still like the books for the most part.

Edit 3: And I’ve now thought about writing an AU of “Borrowed Time” like we’ve been talking about:)