#I’m really bad at keeping track of fics unfortunately

[neon-danger]

Kinda redundant but have you read any good Jalex lately? I’ve been looking everywhere but I’m at that point of scraping the bottom of the barrel and re reading stories I’ve already read

I’ve been on a sterek kick actually so I got nothin

[atlabeth]

true luck's kiss

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of tyche!reader

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

a/n: so this was supposed to come out on st patrick's day but unfortunately im the slowest writer in the world and ive also been doing nothing but watch basketball because we sleep in may. anyways here's a short fluffy blurb because it is getting way too sad in here with my hurricane fics lmao

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): none, this is all fluff. i know crazy coming from me

You grimaced as you pulled the arrow back. Sweat dripped down your forehead and you itched to brush it away, but you ignored the urge as you let out a deep breath. 

“Just like that.” Kimia nodded as she stopped behind you. “Perfect angle—now let it fly.” 

You did, and the weight lifted off your shoulders once the arrow embedded itself in the center of the target. 

“Ending on a bullseye,” she said with a grin. “Great work.” 

“Only way to do it,” you said, smiling at her. “Am I a worthy opponent yet?” 

She chuckled and patted your shoulder as she moved on. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as Cabin Seven. Today’s not that day.” 

You shook your head with a laugh and took your quiver off your back. “Keep telling yourself that!”

A bow and arrow had become your weapon of choice since the moment you stepped foot into camp, and you’d gotten good over the years—so much so that it was a surprise when your mother claimed you. One day, though, you would get an Apollo kid to admit you were better than them. 

You’d just finished putting all your equipment away, and when you turned back, you were met with a mess of brown curls and shining eyes.

“Luke,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Didn’t know you were in archery today.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I didn’t come here for archery—I came here for you.”

You chuckled as you gestured with your head, and he got the hint as you started walking together. “How forward of you.”

“It’s a living,” he said with a smile. “How was practice?”

“And small talk?” You pressed a hand to your heart and shook your head. “It must be my lucky day.”

Luke’s smile widened as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. I do wanna hear about your day, though.”

You shrugged. “It was boring. Killed it at archery, nearly got killed on the climbing wall—I was gonna head back to the cabin to chill for a few hours before dinner, but it looks like you’ve taken that slot.” 

He chuckled. “So you are free?” 

“I’ve always got some time to listen to Luke Castellan,” you mused. “What’ve you got?” 

“I’m cursed,” Luke said. 

You stopped in your tracks and looked him right in the eye. “...Cursed.” 

He nodded. “I know it sounds stupid, but it’s gotta be true. I mean, nothing is going right for me. I’ve been off my groove with my sword, I’ve lost every canoe race, I nearly burnt my eyebrows off last time I was in the forge, and my team hasn’t won a game of capture the flag this entire month—” 

“I know,” you interrupted. “I’m in your cabin.” 

“So you know how bad my luck’s been lately!” he exclaimed with a gesture. “It— it was embarrassing, but now it’s just pathetic.” 

“You know I can’t fix it, right?” you said wryly. “I’m not my mom.” 

“That’s what Annabeth said,” Luke mumbled. “But— but I’ve seen the way you live—you’ve got luck on tap! Your strawberries are always the ripest, you somehow find drachmas on the ground, and your volleyball serves are better than anyone’s.”

“I play varsity back home,” you said. “No luck needed.”

“Still,” he emphasized, “you’re naturally lucky. You’ve literally got it in your DNA, and I’m fresh out of it. That’s gotta be worth something.” 

“Not really.” You crossed your arms. “So what do you think I can do about this?” 

Luke shrugged. “I dunno. Say something?" 

You barely managed to stifle a laugh. “Like what?” 

“Pray to Tyche,” he said. “You’re her only kid here—she’s gotta be listening.” 

You bit back your smile as you shook your head. “Fine. Just for you.” 

“Thank you,” Luke sighed, watching with bated breath as you cleared your throat, closed your eyes, and pressed your hands together. 

“Tyche, dearest mother, goddess of luck and fortune—I ask you to shine on Luke Castellan on this day. Smile upon my friend and break his very real curse. If you do this for him, in return, he will do all of my cabin chores for the next month.” 

When you opened your eyes, Luke looked quite unimpressed. “Very funny.” 

“Feel any luckier?” you asked with a smile as you started walking again. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, falling into step with you once more. “Especially because you’re putting conditions in your prayers. I didn’t know we could do that.” 

“My mom has a sense of humor,” you mused. “And I also think I might be her favorite.” 

“Not all of us have that privilege,” he said wryly. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your arm to stop you.  

“I think I’ve got it,” Luke said. “How about a kiss?” 

Your eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t help showing your amusement. “Now it’s a kiss that’ll break your curse?” 

He shrugged. “Like I said—you’ve got luck in your DNA. Maybe you could pass that along.”  

“Really,” you said dryly. 

“I’ve kinda tried everything,” he said. “A kiss from a lucky and pretty girl is far from the worst option.” 

You chuckled. “You really know how to flatter ‘em.” 

“I try,” he grinned. “Are you up to it?” 

You bit your lip as you looked at Luke. Obviously, he was attractive—you’d always held an appreciation for his curls and the way they would constantly get in his eyes. He cut an impressive figure from constant, year-round training, and he even made the camp shirt look good. And gods, that damned smile got you. 

There were worse things than kissing you, and there were certainly worse things than kissing Luke Castellan. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking a step forward. “Pucker up, Castellan.” 

Before you could really doubt yourself, you leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t really expecting to actually… like it. 

Your first thought was that Luke’s lips were softer than they had any right to be. Your second thought was that his cologne was the scent always floating around the Hermes cabin. You didn’t really mind, though. 

Luke gently put his hand on the back of your head to keep you there, and the moment lasted much longer than you initially planned. You also didn’t mind, though your thoughts were far more muddled than they should’ve been when you finally managed to pull away. He seemed to have a gift for that. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you looked at him, not even trying to hide your smile. Turns out kissing Luke Castellan was actually pretty great. “Feel any luckier?” 

“Yeah,” he said with a soft grin, his eyes twinkling. You wondered if he had the same thought about you. “Yeah. I really do.” 

“I think that means it’s worked, then,” you said. 

Luke nodded with mock austerity. “We should probably stick together for the rest of the week, though. Just to make sure this bad luck goes away for good.” 

“You might be right,” you said. “And uh— you think you need an extra boost?” You glanced away as you bit back your smile. “Just to be safe and all. To really get rid of this curse.” 

“You know,” he drew your attention back to him as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you leaned in closer. “I think I might.” 

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Johnny Lawrence

Johnny Lawrence x reader

warnings: towards the end theres degenerate!johnny mentions (the WORST most funny way to put it but him being an alcoholic and such) (that is NOT funny dont be an alcoholic)

a/n: i been looking at young william zabka edits for an hour brain go brrr. also yes i already have hcs for this so these are NOT part 2 they are a different au after the all valley 🙏. this has been the MOST INSPIRING fic i have written in months im literally in love with him

prompt:

after the all-valley and cobra kai, johnny felt like he’d lost everything

then he found you

you had just barely known each other, growing up in the same vicinity but never really saying a word to each other

until one day at encino oaks, johnny spotted you sunbathing on an unusually warm day and took a chance

“y/n, right?” -johnny, sitting on the pool chair next to you

“that’s right” -you, tilting your sunglasses down

“i’m johnny. we, uh, we go to west valley together”

“yeah, i’ve heard of you” -you

his stomach sank (he’s got a bad track record)

“yeah, that’s unfortunate.” -johnny, getting up to leave and pausing “would you be interested in jumping in the pool with me?”

you stared at him for a few seconds (cuz you could tell he wasn’t too confident) and got up, actually jumping in the pool in a full cannonball

his spirits were lifted and he jumped in right after you

“that was awesome!” -johnny

you two swam around splashing and annoying the older club members, but it was no matter

you ended up sitting on the pool ledge talking and getting to know each other

“oh, no, i don’t really keep up with local karate tournaments. i hadn’t heard” -you

“that’s perfect for me, then” -johnny

you gave him your number and said you’d see him at school monday

and that you did

“is that him? he’s cute! maybe he’ll start driving you to school. or you could get your license” -your mom, dropping you off

“mom!” -you “he does seem pretty sweet. i think he found me at the perfect time, too. got knocked down a peg or two from some karate tournament”

he brought you a little box of chocolates to give to you before class THAT VERY MONDAY (he was moving fast)

he was also very desperate for a prom date for senior prom but that was beside the point

you played a little hard to get

but johnny finally found a reason to fight again and he wanted to fight for you

“could i take you on a date this weekend? do you prefer something fancy like a nice restaurant or casual like golf n stuff or romantic like the beach?” -johnny

“why dont you just plan it and i’ll be ready. just tell me what i should wear” -you, kissing him on the cheek

he always felt so cool and confident but you had him flustered and about to buckle at the knees

he decided to keep it casual for now because you seemed so “go with the flow” and there were so many things to do, so many distractions to keep him from doing something stupid

and of course he picked you up because you still didn’t have your license yes

“come on, i’ll teach you how to drive” -johnny

“noooo thank you, i am not driving your car” -you

you drove it one block and he understood why you didn’t have your license

johnny paid for all your tokens and you guys had a blast competing in games and ended up with a pretty decent pile of tickets

“ooh, competitive!” -you

“i have no idea what you’re talking about” -johnny

daniel was actually at golf n stuff that night with ali but johnny didn’t even care he was so infatuated with you

he bought you some nachos for a snack, which he snuck a few bites in shamelessly

you still haven’t kissed at this point but he was waiting for the perfect moment

you made sure to touch his arms and keep close and flirt, sending all the right signals

he seemed like such a go-getter, you were getting impatient

and finally, he took you to the ferris wheel and made it all cliche and special wrapping his arm around your shoulders and waiting until you two were at the top of the wheel to place a hand on your cheek and kiss you gently

(gentle went away fast you had been waiting for this for a whole WEEK and thats a lifetime for a teenager)

he was giddy for the rest of the night and all he’d gotten was a quick makeout session

he ended up pooling all your tickets together for a stuffed animal of your choice

it couldn’t have been a better first date honestly

and soon enough he was driving you to school, walking you to class, bringing you little gifts, getting you into trouble, listening to music with you, sneaking out with you, just doing everything with and for you

and the promposal was very cute classic (a sign and some flowers, he wasn’t all too creative)

and when prom came around, you two stood out! you both looked stunning and styling, everyoneeee was jealous

“johnny looks happy” -daniel

“poor y/n’s just gonna get their heart broken” -ali

prom court?? no actually lol but keep dreaming

“you’re the prom [king/queen] in my heart” -johnny

“if you hand me a plastic crown im gonna hit you” -you

johnny took it out anyway and you both started cackling bc it was so silly

he just wanted you to feel special (you had no part in prom court at all actually there was no disappointment he was just being a punk)

“sooo, prom night..?” -johnny

“what about it” -you

“oh, nothing…”

“just drive, punk. my parents aren’t home”

a miracle he didn’t get a speeding ticket

soon enough you two had graduated and gone off to college together

although johnny had a hard time focusing on what really mattered

you two definitely partied together and he was always so protective and caring, making sure no one made a pass at you or made you uncomfortable (and if they did he’d try to fight them and you’d drag him away)

some of those nights were memorable, but he started slipping and you kept trying to keep him on the right path

he had a few wakeup calls

and proposed to you

and you accepted

and for a while, he did things right for you

but in the end, he just couldn’t grow up and you broke it off

all the fighting and drinking and partying and bailing him out of jail finally became too much and you returned the ring

“i wish it were different johnny. i really do. i thought you were the one. but i cant be with you if you’re not gonna grow up. i love you, and im sorry, but im done” -you

he was a WRECK after that he spiraled completely and cried for you for months

and he tried to get you back. he tried to straighten up and fly right but he always fell back into the same problems, and his friends were just as dumb as he was

you’d get a drunken call now and then of johnny rambling how sorry he was and how he still loves you and he wanted to change and begging you to take him back

you went on one last date with him and saw a very grim future

and realized you didn’t want to stick around to fix him

“do you still have the stuffed animal from our first date?” -johnny

“i do” -you

“promise me you’ll keep it forever” -johnny

“i promise”

his parents were so incredibly disappointed in him and that he “lost a good one”

and he never stopped beating himself up over it.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @sapphireplums // @ravenhood2792 // @elemental-of-magic // @mauve-galaxy-427 //

[hey-august]

Your Captain Knows Best

Word count: ~5.2k (hello to the longest one-shot I think I've written) Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, humiliation, degradation, praise, oral - reader receiving, insertion sex, spit as lube, creampie, cum eating A/N: This comes from this wonderful request! Anon, I hope you like! 🩷 Also, shoutout to @be-not-afraid-gg for getting me on the right track with this fic! ✨

Taglist: @rorywritesjunk

“Spit on it.”

You paused mid-swipe, processing what he said. You must have taken too long to think about the three words, because Buggy pressed his boot against your shoulder. Allowing him to ease you back, you shifted your weight to rest more on your feet than your knees, and looked up at your captain.

“I know you heard me. If you don’t want to do that, then you can always lick my boots clean.”

Fuck. How did he always make such disgusting things sound so good?

Reaching up, you brought Buggy’s foot back down to rest your lap. The grit of dried saltwater, gunpowder, and other debris caught on your fingertips. You weren’t going to lick his boots (not this time, at least), but you would gladly do what your captain asked for.

As a frothy glob settled onto the leather and waited for you to spread it around, a crewmember stopped by to review the plans for tonight’s show. A heat crept up your face. They had to have seen you struggle to collect enough saliva to clean the filthy boot. You focused on the task at hand, smearing the liquid with a rag.

“Right, and cut this act. It’s not happening tonight.”

The other pirate repeated your name to confirm the act. A nudge against your lap signaled that it was your turn to join the conversation.

Looking up, you gave a small smile. An understanding smile. 

“The captain knows what’s best.” Another nudge. “Besides, I’m really not that good. I would make everyone else look bad.” Another nudge. “And I don’t want to ruin the crew’s reputation by making a mistake.”

The grin on Buggy’s face grew with each comment you parroted from your training sessions. He had spent countless hours trying to get you to meet your marks and not make obvious fuck-ups, but that attention was a double-edged sword.

Just as his rare praise had your heart pounding, Buggy’s ‘motivational speeches’ during practice sessions made your knees weak. Every pause to keep your balance when your legs threatened to give way, every moment trying to catch your breath, every second lost in your sordid thoughts, everything resulted in errors that you couldn’t hide from a seasoned performer. No matter how subtle. And each blunder was followed with hissed complaints that made your knees shake.

Even when Buggy resorted to other motivational measures, they didn’t have the effect he intended. The burning shame of spending a day with ‘fuck up’ written on the back of your hands, or ‘I make stupid mistakes’ scrawled down your arm was not as strong as the heat that pooled in your body when Buggy held you tight enough to leave bruises while writing those incentives. Even if everyone could see what a failure you were, you felt proud of earning those marks, written by your captain.

Both unfortunately and fortunately for you, Buggy caught on. He noticed the way you were almost too eager to offer your body for his inspiring writings. Dark pupils overtaking the color in your eyes became obvious, despite your attempts to avoid his gaze. The breath you’d hold when he was close and when he touched you, all to hide the sounds that you’d only release when you were alone in bed with a hand between your legs. But an echo of those needy sounds carried through when you’d sigh in relief (or maybe frustration) when he pulled away.

At the end of one particular long pointless practice, Buggy was fed up with your failures. He was irritated with how much time he spent on you, while getting nothing in return. But the moment he snarled out, “attention whore,” your wide-eyed expression and stammers became the bow on a gift that he realized was his to unwrap. 

He tugged at the packaging by asking you if that’s what he should write today. If you wanted him to label you as an ‘attention whore’ for everyone to see. Shit, you couldn’t disagree with the truth. You couldn’t lie. Not at this moment. You felt yourself unravel, feeling exposed as you nodded rapidly and rushed to comment about how the captain knows best.

Boosted by the compliment, Buggy also had your costume changed. The stack of folded clothing was handed over at the end of a meeting. What was once more form fitting and flexible was replaced with items that were baggy and woven - ultimately more constricting than what you previously wore. You waited until the crew began to disperse before approaching Buggy. 

“Captain, I think I got the wrong costume.”

A quick glance was all he needed to confirm. “No, that’s the right one. Go change.”

“But Captain-”

“Do you think you know better than me?” The sharp question slipped from a tight grin. Buggy tilted his head and waited for an answer.

The question caught the attention of the few pirates in the area, whose conversations shifted in the wake of this discussion. Subtly wasn’t a strength among the crew, but eavesdropping apparently was.

“No, it’s just- It’s not what I’m used to wearing,” you explained nervously.

“Oh, you prefer your old costume?” The smile on Buggy’s face finally reached his eyes with a glint.

You nodded.

“So you like showing off your body.” It wasn’t a question. “See, I think that’s why you keep fucking up. You like the attention. You want people to watch you.”

A familiar heat was coursing through your body, already setting your face alight. Yes, you liked the attention, but from only one particular person. The person who leaned closer to continue his monologue. 

Buggy hooked a finger under your chin and continued, “I’m right, aren’t I? Or are you such a greedy attention whore that you need to have your body on display all the time?”

Buggy’s low voice stoked the fire that was consuming you, combining the flames of embarrassment and desire into a raging inferno.

“No, Captain.” The words came out in a whisper as light as ash.

“Remember what you said - Your captain knows what’s best.” Moving his hand from beneath your chin, Buggy cupped your cheek. He winked when you nodded against his touch and broke away with a pat that bordered on a light smack.

You were pulled back from those memories when a second boot dropped into your lap, the heel digging into your leg.

“Spit.”

---

The show went off without any issues. Mostly. You stayed backstage doing simple tasks to help each act progress smoothly. Making sure there was fresh water for the performers, cutting lemons for the demanding divas, and grabbing accessories and props that were forgotten until the last minute. You also stood in the wings, ready to compliment and praise those who came off stage with pissed off expressions, spewing anger about the lack of excitement from the captive audience.

Although you weren’t performing, you wore the new costume. At this point it was more of a daily uniform, due to the disapproving looks Buggy would shoot your way whenever you wore something else. Any substitutions or adjustments were guaranteed to be met with raised eyebrows, sneers, and shakes of his head that would cause his blue hair to dance with disappointment. But the worst was the silent treatment. The moments his eyes would glaze when they drifted past you, when he willfully ignored your presence like a petulant child. But the spark in his eyes made up for all the trade-offs that accompanied your new uniform. 

As you ran laps to hit different dressing rooms, the green room, various prop bins, plus the kitchen to refill water pitchers and chop citrus fruits, a heat started building up under your clothes. A big number on set created a lull backstage, which you took as a moment to find an empty corner, lean against a storage barrel, and relax. 

You tugged at your woven top to let fresh air waft in, but the humid feeling returned the moment you stopped. In need of something longer lasting, you started to unbutton the shirt. Freeing two of the shell buttons was just enough for better circulation. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to dress.” The remark was flat, weighed down by disappointment. 

Shit.

You expected Buggy to be clowning around and schmoozing with the audience, not skulking around backstage like you.

“I just- I needed to cool down,” you explained, pulling at the chest of your shirt as if the demonstration would excuse the faux pas.

Buggy watched, his eyes lingering on your glistening chest. You felt bare, like the two buttons revealed far too much. Reaching up to fix yet another mistake, you were stopped by a pair of disembodied gloved hands. The tight grip rolled your knuckles against each other and large thumbs dug until the meat of your palms.

“By exposing yourself?”

The accusation struck a sweaty nerve. “It’s not a lot! It’s just two buttons,” you spat. “I’m still dressed. It’s not like you can actually see anything.”

“Ahh, so you do want to be seen? You like when people stare at you? I mean, I figured that’s why you’re such a fuck up on stage. I didn’t know stripping was an option, though. We could work that into the next show.”

“No! That’s not-”

“I thought I knew best,” Buggy cut you off with a sing-song voice.

The swell of muffled music seeping into the back areas matched the anxiety surging in your body. Thoughts of taking off your clothes, piece by piece, while Buggy watched, danced in your mind. They traipsed and tumbled to the truth - that you did want to be seen. That you liked it when he stared at you. When Buggy paid attention to you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“...you do. You’re right, Captain. I wasn’t wearing my costume correctly, I’m sorry.” Hopefully this acknowledgement would distract him from the other accurate observations.

Maybe it was a trick in the dim lighting, but it looked like Buggy’s eyes sparkled at your response.

“Good, I’m right. So you’ll be in the next show. We could end with a flashy number…” Buggy’s hands released yours and started gesturing in the air as he turned away with his grandiose planning.

“Wait!” You lunged forwards to pull back the one-sided agreement. Desperate fingertips grazed against his heavy coat but were unable to take hold.

“Hm, you have a good point,” Buggy said, splitting and spinning his top half to face you. “Maybe we should wait. You might be terrible at this too. I know - we’ll have an audition.”

With that, he twirled and reassembled in time with a crescendo of music that ended with a lion’s roar and strained applause.

“My room, after the show.”

---

You stood in the middle of the captain’s quarters on an island of discarded clothes and covered only in goosebumps. The muffled sounds of a raging afterparty weren’t enough to cover your shallow breathing or the scratch of pen on paper as Buggy wrote down notes about the night’s show. He hardly spared you a look after telling you to get undressed. Although you removed the clothes slowly, your half-assed, untalented striptease went unnoticed. Eventually you stood in the same spot, entirely exposed.

Every little shift you made to adjust to the rolling waves, or to keep your thoughts anchored, went unnoticed. You were able to watch Buggy from the corner of your eye and see how immersed he was in the paperwork.

His bushy brows furrowed as he chewed on the thumb of his glove in between scribbles. Papers were shuffled and unnecessary pages slammed back on the desk. This wasn’t performative - he was actually working. And it was captivating. Both because he was deeply invested in the work, but also because you didn’t know how to interrupt. Or if you even should.

That possibility was taken away from you by a flurry of knocks on the wooden door. Your heart sped up to match the pace of each rap from the unknown visitor. Was the door locked? What if they came in and saw you like this? You turned to stare at Buggy, who still didn’t look at you.

“What?” Buggy groaned loudly, throwing his head to the ceiling and leaning back in his chair.

“Captain, we’re running low on refreshments.” The words slurred their way through the door.

“Okay, and…?” The question trailed off into a pause. A heavy pause that rang in your head.

The doorknob rattled. And turned. It wasn’t fucking locked. He didn’t lock the fucking door. There wasn’t much you could do to improve this predicament. You could hold your clothes to your body and try to preserve some of your dignity. Then again, how much was left at this point? Hiding behind furniture was a terrible option - you weren’t going to play a messed up version of naked hide-and-seek.

Faster than you could consider other options, a gloved hand whizzed forwards and held the door shut. The few centimeters it creaked open were pushed back and met with a drunken grunt.

“I’m busy,” Buggy said loudly and slowly, his voice soaked with annoyance. “Exactly what do you need me for?”

“We’re running out of drinks, cap’n.”

“You already said that.” Buggy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can-” The sloshed pirate must have pressed his lips against the edge of the door before continuing. “Can we open more barrels?”

The request slid around the door, entering the room with clarity that sent anxiety and adrenaline surging through your body. Although you knew he was on the other side of the door, knowing someone else was so close sent tingles down the back of your head and spine before reaching around to prick your bare chest. As the conversation continued without you, the turbulent waves gave way to softer swells and your thoughts started to drift. Sure, you were still being ignored and you were still naked, but there was a strange feeling of safety.  

The discussion ended with a threat of bathroom duty if anything more than four barrels and a case of wine was opened. The door lock clicked and stillness returned to the room. Your mind came back to your body, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the condition it was in. Of the growing tension and sensitivity. Of the warmth that started to collect down low. Each sensation was amplified when you realized that you were no longer being ignored.

Buggy remained at his desk, head cocked to the side and resting on a gloved hand. The aqua color of his eyes poured over your exposed skin, ice cold and boiling hot at the same time.

“I think we’re just going to strip you of all performance duties. It wasn’t flashy enough,” he finally said.

“You barely even watched! You weren’t paying attention to m-” Shit. The words started flowing before you could even register what order they were in and you slapped your mouth shut too late.

The grin on Buggy’s face nearly put his painted smile to shame. “Say that again. Tell me what you really wanted to say.”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to put your clothes back on, go back to your room, curl up, and pretend none of this happened.

“C’mon, I want to hear you tell your captain that he’s right,” Buggy coaxed through that devastating smile. How could he make those words sound so soft and so dangerous? So enticing?

“I wanted-”

“I can’t hear you.”

Your hand fell from your mouth at the flat interruption

“I wanted you to pay attention to me, Captain.”

He nodded along to your words and into the silence after you finished speaking. You weren’t done.

“I…I like it.”

“Because?” Buggy pushed you to keep going, rather than continuing to drag each word from your pretty lips. Lips that you licked nervously before giving Buggy what he wanted. 

“Because I’m an attention whore,” you confessed.

“Again.”

“I’m an attention whore.” 

Fuck, yes you were. Everytime he made you say these words, you felt like you were stripping again - removing your sense of self and exposing who you really were inside. Someone who would do near anything in hopes of capturing his eyes and his mind. Anything he asked of you, no matter how ridiculous or humiliating, just to hear your name on his tongue.

“Louder.”

Buggy was a cat who finally caught a scrumptious canary, holding it between his paws. He was enjoying this game. And so were you, but you were ready to take it to the next level and this was your chance.

“I’m your whore, Captain!”

For once, the smarmy look on Buggy’s face flickered. Eyebrows raised slightly in surprise and the corners of his smile fell before transforming into a wolfish grin. Leaning back in his chair, the captain beckoned you closer with a tantalizing curl of two fingers.

As you walked forwards, Buggy reclined and spread his legs into an indecently dominant pose. Another twitch from his finger told you to lower yourself. You were more than glad to kneel before your captain. Trapped between his body heat and your desire, you barely noticed the rough wood floor digging into your bare knees.

A gloved hand floated over and cupped your chin. The leather from his performance gloves was rich and velvety. Softening into his touch, you felt a twinge of worry that you might melt completely. Meeting his watchful gaze, the worry dissipated. Now you wanted nothing more than to dissolve, to fall apart because of him.

The hold was replaced with a nudge against your lips. The silent request quickly changed into a demand as two fingers slid into your barely open mouth. You accepted the intrusion, dropping your jaw to accommodate the thick digits and welcome them into the back of your throat. With your bottom lip resting against the leather on the palm of his hand, Buggy’s fingers began to wiggle and flex, becoming acquainted with your insides and testing your limits. 

You were given a moment of respite, just enough time to fill your lungs with fresh air, before Buggy began pumping his hand into your waiting mouth. Your tongue lolled out with the movement, turning into an escape route for the excess drool that couldn’t soak into his glove. Whenever your eyebrows furrowed a little too tightly, you were given the briefest second to catch your breath. 

Eventually satisfied with fingerfucking your throat, Buggy recalled his hand. You could both see the discoloration from your spit. Buggy flexed his fingers to admire the handiwork before removing his gloves. Then he unbuckled his belt, the sound of which nearly had you drooling again. You wiped your mouth, just in case.

“Undo my pants. You need to see what you do to me,” Buggy said in a low voice.

The lunge of your greedy hands was stopped by an addendum.

“Ah-ah, no hands.” Buggy licked his painted lips and pursed them into a little kiss that fluttered down to you and settled in your stomach.

Oh, that’s what he meant. Dropping your hands, you leaned forwards and used your nose to push away the hem of his shirt. It wasn’t slippery material, but you struggled to move it enough to reach the hardware on his pants. Buggy took pity (or maybe he was too horny to watch you struggle for long) and pulled up his shirt, exposing a patch of blue hair trailing down to the treasure you were desperate to reach.

Another hand found a resting spot on the back of your head. It followed your movement as you twisted and turned, tilted and tugged, bit and nibbled. Sometimes his hold would work against you, causing you to slip and bump into his erection. Each press against his twitching member gave you motivation to keep trying until you were finally able to unbutton his pants and pull at them enough to undo the zipper.

“Good job,” Buggy groaned, delighted that you made it this far.

He pressed your face against his cock, which was still hidden beneath his underwear. Buggy made sure to rub your lips against the wet spot of precum. It was a little salty and more than delicious. You wanted more. Needed more. You wrapped your lips around his head and sucked on the soggy fabric, surprising Buggy. His fingers tightened in your hair as a strained groan escaped his mouth.

Spurred by the reaction, you licked along the underside of his clothed erection. You moved slowly and let your spit pave the way. Every pulsing throb that pressed against your tongue whetted your appetite. It added to the hunger in your body and soul until you were aching, so painfully full of desire that had no escape. Regretfully, you pulled back. The hand on the back of your head shook slightly at the break in contact.

“What? Are you done?” he asked between breaths.

You shook your head, mesmerized. Buggy’s eyes were hazy. Fogged up and unfocused. His face was sprinkled with a pink blush and beads of sweat. His chest was heaving. And he looked so damn good.

“Use your words, fuck. W-why’d you stop?” Fingers twitched in your hair.

“More… I want more. Please, I need y-!!” 

The rushing stream was stalled by a yelp when Buggy’s hands hoisted you on top of his desk. From your new height, you watched your captain lower himself before you, claiming the space between your legs as his. Suddenly, his mouth was on you. His tongue touching you. Fingers digging into your thighs.

Everything left you in that moment. Every thought, the air in your chest, the ability to hold yourself upright, all of it taken away in one fell swoop. Worried about falling backwards and losing sight of Buggy indulging in a feast, you reached for him. Your hands fumbled, unable to find purchase with his hat or that damn bandana. Knocking both out of the way, your fingers found what they needed in his blue hair. A growl rumbled through his throat and ripped through your body at the desperation in your grip. 

Buggy came at you with increased ferocity. With a wildness that had you crying out in excitement and fear. That damn mouth of his wasn’t just talented at turning phrases. Fuck. You felt like Buggy would swallow you down in one gulp if he could. 

He ate and ate, consuming you like he had been consuming your thoughts for as long as you’ve been on the ship. With each lick, nibble, suck, reverberating groan, and mumbled nothings against your skin, you responded. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. Your fingers tightened and released. His name poured from your lips on repeat, becoming a jumble of syllables in your ears.

You could see stars, they were within reach. Swollen and ready to explode. But before they could shower you in their delicious warmth, they disappeared.

“Is that the best you can do?” The question wasn’t said with lips against your skin. You looked down, bleary eyed and confused. “I’m giving you all of this attention and you’re quieter than a mouse’s fart.”

What the fuck. Your head was swirling, mourning the loss of those sweet stars. His name lingered on your tongue, the full-bodied taste leaving behind an emptiness. What more could he want?

“Are you afraid everyone will hear you? Don’t you want to show me what a good job I’m doing?”

Your eyes fluttered, the stars returning to the edge of your vision. You nodded, promising to do a better job. Promising that you wouldn’t fuck up, like you usually do.

Buggy stood up and rushed to pull down his pants, clanging his belt against the wooden desk in his excitement. His pants and underwear caught around his knees, but he didn’t move to shimmy them lower. Now the focus was on his thick cock, dripping with precum that begged to be spread and smeared. 

It looked so heavy. So fucking thick and heavy. Buggy’s smile twitched at your reaction, caught between embarrassment and pride.

“C’mere, show me what a whore you are,” Buggy said, interrupting your assessment. “Show me you can take it.”

Your movement forwards was aided by his bare hands on your ass. Rough calluses on soft skin. Fingers digging into supple flesh. Buggy’s touch was searing hot, etching his hold on your body so that you felt it even when he let go. He lined himself up, stopping just as his body kissed your entrance. A passionate kiss that he continued with his lips against yours.

“Spit on it,” he murmured around your bottom lip, which was trapped between his teeth.

Buggy just barely missed getting headbutted as you pitched forwards, more impatient than eager. You wanted to see his cock again. You wanted to coat it. To feel it. To have it inside. You wanted it so badly. Gifting him a mouthful to use as lubricant, you hoped that he would give you what you craved in return.

And he did. You watched as Buggy pushed inside, slowly. So tantalizingly slow. It seemed impossible that he’d fit, especially if he wasn’t going to shove it in. But it did. Your body stretched to accommodate Buggy’s wonderfully thick cock. You whined and hissed through the intrusion, relishing the pleasure and pain he brought.

“It- it fits,” you gasped.

“Uh-huh, I knew you could do it. Such a good fucking whore for your captain.” Buggy paused with his hips slotted against yours, shoulders rising and falling with each restrained breath he took. “A tight one…m’gonna change that.”

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as he pulled back and began fucking you as promised. You felt entirely at his mercy, caged by his body and stretched to your limit. Your nails dragged across his clothed shoulders, catching on ripples in the fabric, rather than scratching his skin and muscles. Tight muscles. All of Buggy was hard and tight.

“I can take it,” you urged. “Please, just fuck me. Use me.” 

The steady tempo turned into a staccato at your words. “That’s it, that’s my good whore,” Buggy said, his voice dripping with pleasure. “Keep that fucking mouth open, I need to hear you take it.”

He slammed into you, little lights exploding behind your eyelids. A little taste of the stars that you knew were coming. Slack jawed, you let your moans fall in time with his thrusts. Moans and cries of delight echoed off of him as you clung loosely to his body. You barely heard Buggy’s demand before his teeth were digging into your shoulder. A loud shout met his demand and raised the level of the sounds that fell from your mouth.

Fingers in your hair tilted your head to the side. “Louder. Don’t tell me you’re afraid they’ll hear you being fucked by your captain,” Buggy growled against your ear. A bite on your earlobe brought another increase in volume and tears to your eyes.

You shook your head and called out his name. Another nip. Another nibble. You cried out louder. Your hands began shaking. You pleaded, crying Buggy’s name on repeat against his shoulder. Arms wrapped around your back and held you closer, pressing you harder against his mean thrusts.

“C’mon, you can do it…”

That was it. That was all you needed. Even if you couldn’t put on a good performance for the circus, you certainly could do this. You could take this. You could take a rough fuck from your captain. You could cry his name to the heavens, to the stars that would explode with you. 

Moans stretched into screams that scratched your throat. His name stretched into high-pitched cries that hurt your ears. Incoherent pleas took all your breath and made your lips numb. Yet, with all the cacophony you created, all you could hear was your captain’s sweet, sweet praise.

“Come on my cock like a good whore,” he rasped, clearly struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

“I can-I can do i- I’m cu-” The words were choked out of you. The immense pressure that built up was too much, but it kept growing, taking all the space left in your body. Carrying you away until everything exploded. Until starlight and shimmers filled your vision. 

For a moment, you were gone. You hardly existed. Everything wiped clean. And then you were back in your body. Back to feeling all sorts of sinful things. Your body was still struggling against all the pressure that had built up. Trying but failing to squeeze against Buggy’s thick intrusion, which was still ravaging your body. The bright cries that ripped through you were now edging into dry sobs of pleasure.

Your performance was finally rewarded. Buggy’s own sounds were strangled as he came, depositing a hot load of cum deep in your body. He fucked through each pulsing shot, your tension milking him until his balls were drained and you were full. Uncomfortably full.

Buggy’s orgasm ended with a groaning sigh as he nearly collapsed against you. One arm was still holding you close, while the other rested on the desk, propping you both up.

The room felt stuffy, yet empty. Full of everything that just happened, but the sounds of passion were replaced with the dim soundtrack of the ship’s party. After a few minutes reveling in this atmosphere, Buggy peeled himself off your sticky body. He raked a hand through his hair, dragging the loose strands stuck to his forehead back into place. A casual movement that was so… He winced as your body clenched around him, an appreciation for the view.

“So needy,” he said through a crooked smile. A weary but pleased grin.

Arms on your knees kept your legs spread, as Buggy pulled out. Disconnected hands were right there, thumbs on either side of your used hole to keep it open. Gaping. Drooling white cum. 

A shiver tore through your body at the feeling of his heavy load sliding down and out. A shiver that was frozen in place when a finger scooped up some and brought it to your lips. A moan traded places with the offering, exiting your mouth as Buggy’s coated finger entered. The mingled taste was wonderful, so fucking tasty. And his cum was such a soothing texture on your aching throat.

---

You woke up feeling almost hungover - not because of alcohol though. Your body throbbed and your head was spinning, but it was pleasant. A weight on your chest kept you pinned to the bed. Buggy was haphazardly draped across your body, his head and arm resting on your torso, and a leg hooked around yours. He was still sound asleep. Closed eyes tracked his dreams and his snoring breath skated across your skin. 

Gently, you brought over an arm to push some hair from his face. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight. The snores quieted for a moment.  Then they were replaced by a heavy sigh and a tighter embrace. Tucking his arm around you more and curling his leg to hug yours, Buggy snuggled against you and fell back into his deep slumber. As his breaths crinkled back into snores, they carried you back to sleep.

A sweet, comforting sleep, well-earned after a performance that you didn’t fuck up for once. All because your captain knows best.

[strawberriesinbloom]

Winning Plushies

Zayne/Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: Zayne tries to win a plushie for you. Unfortunately, you are your own worst enemy.

Word Count: 791

This is a tickle fic btw!

~🍓~

You pressed your nose up to the glass of the claw machine, squinting thoughtfully at the plushies inside. Truthfully, you wanted them all. Alas, you were down to your last few tokens, so you really had to make them count.

“I want that one,” you said, pointing at the little Cone Crab plushie in the corner.

Zayne raised his eyebrows. “Really? It’s a little…”

You glared at him.

“…interesting looking,” he finished.

“Well, I still want it.”

“Fine,” Zayne said, inserting a token into the coin slot. “I’ll get it for you.” He moved the joystick to the right, as he carefully watched the claw move.

You two had been at the arcade all afternoon. While you had won a decent amount of plushies for yourself, you felt bad that Zayne didn’t have much of a chance to play. Although he seemed less than eager to have his turn, he finally relented after a little bit of back and forth.

You patted him on the shoulder. “You can do it, Zayne! You got this.”

“Is this your way of encouraging me?” He flicked the joystick a little to the left.

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not particularly.”

He pressed the button. The claw lowered down and grabbed the Cone Crab, only for it to immediately slip out of its grasp. Zayne sucked his teeth and inserted another token.

You huffed. Zayne always had to be difficult. “Alright, then. How about this?” You hooked your arm around his waist. “Is this working?”

Zayne glanced at you momentarily before returning his attention to the claw machine. “You’re much too bold,” he said, a little color appearing on his cheeks.

You laughed a little, giving Zayne’s side a playful squeeze. You faltered when he jumped. “Zayne?”

“It was just a reflex. I’m not ticklish.” He said, a little too focused on positioning the claw correctly. If he wasn’t quick enough, the timer would reach zero, and he would miss his turn.

You smiled. “Really, you’re not? That’s disappointing.” You sneakily spidered your fingers up to his ribs, delighting in the way his entire body flinched.

“Stohop that!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to c-cohoncentrate.” Zayne was trying to keep his voice low to not disturb the other patrons, and perhaps to also keep his own dignity afloat.

“Stop what? I’m not tickling you, am I?” You asked, using your other hand to poke at his stomach.

Zayne buckled forward. “I’m tehelling you to stop this instant!” His ears had turned red, along with the rest of his face. Before you could respond, the claw machine beeped. You looked over, and, sure enough, the timer had reached zero. The claw automatically lowered, grabbed at nothing, and returned to its starting position. “Now, look at what you did,” he said, “You made me waste a token.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so ti—“ One look at Zayne’s sneer made you stop in your tracks. “…jumpy. It’s not my fault you're so jumpy.”

“You’re much too touchy-feely with me. Just promise you won’t do it again.”

You held up your right hand. “I promise,” you said, closing your eyes for good measure.

Zayne waited for you to open your eyes before rolling his own. “Whatever.” He picked up one more token and slipped it into the coin slot. He started playing again, this time sneaking a couple of glances your way to ensure that you were keeping still.

Unfortunately, for Zayne, you weren’t particularly good at keeping promises. The moment his eyes left yours, you reached over and slowly dragged your index finger down the small of his back.

Zayne went rigid and let out a sharp gasp. He hit the button much too early, and, once again, the claw lowered down to grasp at nothing. He crossed his arms and glared at you over his sunglasses. You cackled.

“Sorry, sorry! I just couldn’t resist!” You covered your mouth with your sleeve to muffle yourself. His stern look was unwavering, which you only found more amusing. “Okay, okay, I’m really sorry. I promise not to mess with you, again. For real, this time.” You turned to face the claw machine. “I still want that Cone Crab.”

“Too bad.” Zayne shook his head. “That was our last token.”

“Really?” you said, searching your pockets. To your dismay, he was right. You didn’t have any more tokens left. “Wait.” You knelt down to search your tote bag, which was holding all of your plushies. “But, the Cone Crab’s the only plushie that I don’t have, yet. We need to win this one.”

The corners of Zayne’s lips shot up briefly. “Perhaps you should have thought of that before giving into your childish antics.”

Yeah…perhaps you should have.

[theshadowrealmitself]

Hey, have you got any Spock/Kirk fic recommendations? I've already read a bunch, but your Vulcan posts are always interesting, I'm sure You've got some good fic recs.

One of my favorite Spirk fics of all time is Observations Part 1/2 by anon-j-anon. It's SO GOOD and well written. It's perfect if you like long fics.

It's basically a running commentary on everything that's happening on the Enterprise, from Spock's POV. It's both hilarious and sad.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43993807/chapters/110614654

I’ve been wanting to make a post like this but I’m so bad at keeping track of fics (seriously, I have no bookmarks, nothing saved, everytime I wanna reread one I just go on the long hunt for it)

So, I went back and found some that I liked (unfortunately couldn’t find all that I really wanted to share, but today’s been a busy day, and if I put this off then this ask will be left to rot in my inbox)

These are all completed fics with developing relationship, these are also not the actual descriptions just my descriptions for them

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241025/chapters/9595551

I’ve already recommended this one on my blog but y’all are gonna hear about it again!! One of my absolute favorite aos fics!! Essentially, Jim is bad at making wishes (but it’s not like the one who’s granting his wishes is making it easy on him), there’s very very mild angst (my heart goes out to him on wish #2), and everything gets wrapped up nicely on the last chapter! Everyone should check out this fic at least once in my opinion

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45298468

Kirk finds Spock a man, tos version (there’s an aos fic somewhere with the same concept but it goes very differently, couldn’t find it rn tho)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44864332/chapters/112882420

Love in the form of homemade beverages

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44873377

Kirk fucks Spock Prime, aos Spock takes issue with that (mostly smut with jealousy)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42680841

Spock thinks Kirk’s trying to commit suicide but that’s not what’s actually happening, it’s short but I still love how aos Spock is characterized in this

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41198433

Spock hits his head and thinks he’s a Romulan pirate, it’s an absolute travesty that this is a quick oneshot only

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27563158

Had to end this list with another major favorite of mine, this one’s a tos fic with “foot in mouth” disease in a few failed interviews (finally) leading to a natural conclusion

[steddieas-shegoes]

she runs a tight ship

rated t | for @strangerthingsocweek day 1 "introduction" | 1,573 words cw: mentions of illness (just a cold), mildly suggestive language | tags: future fic, corroded coffin, original character, robin gets to have a girlfriend because i said so

author note: a lot of meg's original backstory also revolves around OCs that other people have created, so I've doctored it up a bit to fit in without pulling the other OCs into the mix.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Meg rolled her eyes the moment she walked onto the tour bus.

The boys, and they were in fact boys since they refused to act like grown men, had left clothes scattered across the floor and couch, empty beer bottles and bags of chips on the table, and a pack of cigarettes on the counter.

Unbelievable.

But actually, totally believable.

They weren’t always like this. It’s just that the first night of the tour was always a celebration when they got off stage and Meg had the unfortunate task of making sure they were alive and prepared for the rest of the tour.

She wasn’t their manager, or security, or really anyone of importance in the grand scheme of things. All of those people were just not good at the job, and she took over quickly to ensure the members of Corroded Coffin didn’t end up ruining their careers before they even got started.

“If I see a single ass cheek when I come back there, I’m quitting!” She yelled towards the back of the bus. It was an empty threat, and they knew it, but she’d seen enough ass cheeks to last a lifetime.

She leaned over to pick up the pile of pants and pair of boots right in front of the door, face crumpling into disgust as she caught a whiff of sweat and weed.

“Meg, good to see ya!” Gareth said as he came from behind the curtain leading to the bunks. “Are we in Cinci already?”

“Yep.” She popped her mouth and continued picking things up off the floor. “Soundcheck in two hours. You guys have to at least try to get your shit together for it.”

“We will! You doin’ okay?” Gareth started gathering the trash on the table, throwing it all in the trash can without even seeing what was full and empty.

“Yeah. Good show last night. Didn’t think you’d do the new one on your first night,” Meg admitted. She’d worked on the song with them for weeks in the studio, curating it exactly to their tastes while still staying true to her own style. She didn’t think it would make the setlist at all, especially since they hadn’t even decided if it would make the next album yet, but sure enough, they performed it last night.

And they’d given credit to their “amazing songwriter friend who made sure they didn’t die or forget to eat.”

She would never admit to the tears that fell when she watched them perform their song.

“Ed and Robin agreed it should be a surprise. I think they both just wanted to see you cry,” Gareth nudged her on his way over to grab the guitar on the couch to put it into its case. “Steve told them not to.”

“This is why Steve’s my favorite,” she joked. Well, half-joked. She considered Steve to be the other half to her Keep Corroded Coffin On Track Team. Without him, Eddie would have been left at a rest stop the first time they went on the road.

“Yeah, that’s no secret.” She could hear the eyeroll in Gareth’s voice, but chose to ignore it. “He was snoring so bad last night, I almost had to consider kicking him off the bus.”

“Wait. Snoring? Steve doesn’t snore unless he’s-”

“Fuck.”

They both realized at the same time what was coming. Gareth looked back at Meg, eyes wide.

“Not now! It’s the beginning of tour!”

“Maybe if I load him up with vitamin C? I have a whole vitamin kit in the van and Robin has that nebulizer for her breathing treatments.”

A round of sneezes came from the back and Meg cursed under her breath.

“He’s gotta get away from everyone. He can take the van with Robin and I’ll bunk on your couch for a few days. Did he have a fever?” Meg was known for being dramatic over small inconveniences, but this wasn’t small. It had the potential to ruin tour dates. If anyone in the band got sick, it could ruin a concert.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so? He seemed fine when we went to sleep. He passed out before all of us though.” Gareth quickly set the guitar down and opened the cabinet closest to the bus door. “We’ve got cold meds. Some cough syrup. Tylenol. Cough drops. You think that’ll be enough?”

Meg nodded. “For now. Let’s see how bad it is first.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Eddie and Jeff came out at the same time, panic written all over their faces.

Meg sighed. “Bad?”

They nodded.

“Okay, stay away from him. It could already be too late, but you guys have to stay healthy.” Meg grabbed the basket of meds and a bottle of water from the fridge. “All of you get outside, tell Robin what’s up, and go with security into the building. I’m gonna get him settled in the van and scrub this place from top to bottom.”

“But I’ll miss him,” Eddie pouted. “How long does he have to stay in the van?”

“Until he can breathe through both nostrils.”

“Can any of us ever really breathe through both nostrils?” Eddie wondered.

Meg blinked at him. “Get a shirt on and get out of here before I make it impossible for you to breathe out of one nostril.”

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. Jeff patted his shoulder and turned to grab a shirt that was still on the couch.

“It’s okay man. Might just be a little cold. Could pass quick!” Gareth tried to reassure him, but Meg could already see how this was gonna go.

She was surrounded by slightly codependent idiots. She loved them all dearly, but she needed them to function individually sometimes.

The door banged open and Robin came up the steps.

“I swear, I sleep in one time and my girlfriend abandons me for her harem of idiot men.” She glances between everyone and tenses. “What’s wrong?”

“You stupid soulmate is sick,” Meg grumbled. “Everyone is in the process of leaving this bus before it happens to them.”

“I’ll wake up Frankie. He’s gonna be pissed,” Jeff sighed. “He got his pillows just right.”

“I’ll get him, you guys go,” Meg shooed them away, waiting for them to all leave before turning to Robin. “Hey, Robbie. Sorry I didn’t wake you up, just wanted you to get plenty of sleep.”

Robin leaned her head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, babe. Steve gonna make it?”

“Haven’t put eyes on him yet. Think you could go check? I gotta avoid getting sick, too. The less I’m around him, the better,” Meg handed her the basket and kissed the side of her head. “Get him to the van so he can contaminate that area instead.”

“But then I’ll get sick.” Robin pouted.

Meg couldn’t resist leaning down and pulling Robin’s bottom lip between her teeth, smirking when she let out a yelp.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got a strong immune system. Promise I'll make it up to you in a few days. Maybe we could convince them to let us have a hotel room so we can-,” Meg said, pulling away when she heard shuffling behind the curtain. “Oh, good, it’s you. The rest of the guys are gone. Steve’s sick. Don’t come back in here until I give the go ahead.”

Frankie yawned, scratched his head, and nodded. “Got it.”

He was slowly becoming her favorite just by the fact that he never really argued with her. Maybe that was because he was terrified of her, but she could enjoy her power a little if she wanted to.

He walked out of the bus in his pajamas, probably not awake enough to realize he wasn’t properly dressed, but also probably not caring at all that he wasn’t. Frankie was a chill guy.

“Eddie?” Steve’s pitiful raspy voice came from behind the curtain. “Eds?”

“I’ll go,” Robin gave one final kiss to Meg’s lips before walking behind the curtain.

Meg only caught a glimpse of Steve, but a glimpse was all she needed to come to the conclusion that he was miserably sick and she needed to air this bus out immediately. She could hear Robin gently explaining where everyone was and trying to bribe him to put some comfy clothes on to move to the van.

She looked around and wondered what he’d touched last night before going to bed.

She opened the window behind the couch, and propped the window by the sink open to get some fresh air in the bus.

���Sorry I’m sick,” Steve suddenly said behind her, his eyes glassy and nose and cheeks bright red with fever and congestion. “Don’t know how.”

Meg smiled sadly at him. “Not your fault, bud. Just make sure to keep your distance from the guys until your fever’s gone. Don’t need them all getting sick at once and having to postpone a concert.”

Steve nodded sadly. “Okay. Can you tell Eddie I love him?”

“‘Course I can.”

Steve was acting like he was dying, but Meg didn’t say anything. Robin had been honest about a lot of her past, their past, but couldn’t say everything. She knew why they were all a bit codependent on each other. Sometimes small things like the common cold felt like a monster they couldn’t fight.

As Robin led Steve out of the bus, Meg made a checklist in her head of everything she needed to do before the show tonight.

Taking care of her boys was always top priority.

[spiri-a]

Ello ello ello this is a rant about a Good Omens fic I like

(Pssst.... TL;DR: It’s One Miraculous December by @journeytogallifrey)

Just a while ago I was agonizing over what kind of post I should post (even though no one’s gonna read this and this accounts only purpose is to spitball all my thoughts at a rapid pace) and I suddenly realized: hey! I like fanfics! And good omens! And sometimes I finish fanfics and I have so much thought vomit stirring around inside me I need to write it down somewhere! Then BOOM this is that this is my ramble baby. This is just my poor excuse to talk and talk and talk for several paragraphs straight. Please do not enter if you don’t want to be bombarded by what is probably several thousand words sorted into 5 or 6 sections.

This will probably be part of a series where I talk uh *cough* extensively about different fanfics, different series for different fandoms probably because I don’t think the Good Omens fandom and Carry On fandom interact with each other very much at all (maybe I’ll do books in general later on down the line, but that’d be a separate series too)

Just to be safe I won’t talk about anything too spoilery, giving some minor spoilers that get talked about in the first chapters anyways. This is a pretty lighthearted fic anyways so nothing much to worry about this time!

Ok now actually let’s get started. Anyways this is a fic I read a while ago that I really really liked:

One Miraculous December (T)

By @journeytogallifrey

Ok so this was the first fic I read by journeytogallifrey, and I read it during a time over the summer where day in and day out I had nothing to do but walk and walk and walk and occasionally read on my phone (Doesn’t make sense to read a Christmas fic over the summer but whatever)

I thought this was just gonna be a casually good long fic to fill up the time but boy was I wrong I LOVED this

Let me tell you this fic was the love of my life for the week and a half or so I was reading it. I was SO INSANELY shocked and confused when I realized this fic was 187,00 WORDS after finishing

But anyways I’m getting off track again (this post is my ramble baby after all) so let’s start with what this fic is abt and then I’ll talk about my favorite things

Spiri Stfu Whats The Fic About Already

Summary (pulled from fic):

Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere.

Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory...

Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible...

Eventually these two will communicate, even if it takes 'til the end of the year. For now there will be cuddling, excuses for closeness, sappy words, flashbacks, nostalgia, bickering, and an obscene variety of holiday foods. Oh, and footnotes. That's right. We're doing those too.

Fills for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 prompt list by Caedmon. Updates every day through the end of December.

Basically TLDR: Sappy reminders of soft moments between Crowley and Aziraphale throughout history keep popping up. Crowley thinks he’s doing it subconsciously and is worried about his super duper secret feelings being revealed, meanwhile Aziraphale is executing the least subtle (but somehow still too subtle) seduction plan ever concocted (it will take these two sillies a WHILE to get sorted out)

Ok now let’s move on to all the lovely things I love about this lovely fic in special lovely little sections (Once again, I’m sorry for the sheer size of this behemoth)

Pt 1: Charming Little Footnotes, My True Love ❤︎❤︎❤︎

From the very first chapter, I was completely and utterly enchanted by one silly little thing: the footnotes!! Those who have read the Good Omens book will understand: footnotes are amazing!! They often offer absolutely ZERO important information, and you could go practically the entire book never reading the footnotes and get the same general ideas as someone who did. BUT, they’re just so charming, why would you NOT read them?? They’re often unnecessary, but in a perfect and wonderfully niche way. I don’t need to understand the backstory or fun fact behind this randomly selected instant, moment, or person, but it’s so stupidly heartwarming to that I love to do it anyway. It’s like I’m being let in on a secret between me and the author, like they leaned over while someone else is talking and made a somewhat silly comment into my ear that makes you try to suppress your little smile in response.

Journeytogallifrey does this AMAZINGLY. They offer heartwarming insight on the most mundane things, and I enjoy every second of it. One of my personal favorite instances is funnily enough in the very first chapter, the footnote that first captured my heart and that I remembered throughout the entire fic. In chapter one, Aziraphale miracles for the floor of the bookshop to become a frozen lake, and he convinces Crowley to ice skate with him, reminiscing on a time they skated together centuries before. And THIS was the footnote that followed midway through the chapter:

*In fairness to the skates, they’ve had an intense couple of hours.

Mere moments before they found themselves in a 2019 bookshop, they’d only just been set down by Crowley and Aziraphale in 1860 and were debating the finer points of their recent skating adventure. Two of them, having hosted a lovely angel with excellent manners, were of a firmly positive opinion. The other two, terrorized by a demon who had berated them for trembling with fear, were engaged in a thorough character assassination of not only their tormentor but also anyone who would willingly befriend him.

“But they’re desperately in love with each other,” posited the skates worn by the angel.

“That’s beside the point,” answered the others, and that was when a miracle scooped them up and catapulted them a century and a half into the future**.

**Aziraphale, somehow, picked out the same two skates to wear in 2019 as in 1860, despite shoe sizes being less a concrete number for him and more ‘something that automatically sets itself to rights upon entrance of the foot’, so further experience has offered little to settle the argument.

THIS FOOTNOTE, THIS MOMENT, was perfection in my eyes. The completely absurd idea of two pairs of ice skates having a conversation, this conversation being about their wearers, a judgement of their character, a silly argument and observation of their silly hemming and hawing romance, was all so charming. It’s so unnecessary but also just. Completely STEALS your heart. Then there’s the footnote-ception of a footnote within a footnote, a casual disregarding of order and professionalism for the sake of being novel and silly. Not to mention the double footnote commenting on Aziraphale’s incredibly charming naïveté on the more specific parts of human inventions, such as the concept of shoe sizes. As you may have noticed from my using the same exact word like 20 times, the only word that fits the entire charmingly unnecessary but delightful footnotes thing is silly. It’s perfect because it’s perfectly silly, and that just made my heart melt.

Journeytogallifrey keeps up these footnotes throughout the fic to a certain degree, and as a reader of the Good Omens book, it’s always such a joy to find fics that bother to use footnotes. And journeytogallifrey does this wonderfully, stuffing so much life and humor into them very similar to what I found great about the footnotes in the GO book. So that is reason one (in no particular order) that I love this fic

Moving on to reason 2!

Pt 2: YOU get a flashback, and YOU get a flashback

A large amount of this fic relies on the art of flashbacks, being directly tied to Aziraphale’s Plan of Seduction™︎, which just so you know goes as follows:

Every day of December, miracle up some kind of thingy (object, place, activity, etc)

Said thingy will function as the perfect reminder to reminisce about a not-a-date date you’ve had at some point throughout history

Really drive home how close you two are and absolutely drown him in affection

Keep seducing all through December

Confess at some point (exact date TBD)

Profit

As you might have noticed, the whole reminiscing thing works as an opening for truckloads of flashbacks. But let me tell you, these flashbacks are WORKS OF ART. Unfortunately, unlike the footnotes, I can’t single out a single FAVORITE flashback, because they’re practically ALL amazing.

Journeytogallifrey very obviously did a butt ton of research for this fic, something I find so incredibly amazing about the Good Omens fandom! Many GO authors will do extensive research for the sake of their Aziraphale and Crowley throughout history scenes, which is something I’ve always heavily admired within this fandom compared to others. And journeytogallifrey does this amazingly and extensively throughout this fic!

Each flashback had so much love, charm, and most interestingly historical depth in them. Each flashback acts as a charming little mini story of the various adventures the two had throughout history. The highs and lows of their relationships, the hidden affections, moments that were fun, stressful, intimate, scary, or just simply peacefully domestic, ALL of it was present in these flashbacks, and just utterly captured my heart. I managed to learn quite a decent amount through the little historical details mentioned throughout, especially if a specific detail caught my eye and I wanted to research further. (Because of this fic, my dream is to move to Iceland and celebrate Jólabókaflóðið every year)

I love the way these two act around each other throughout history, and the writing when describing everything from the setting around them to their clothes to their care for each other is phenomenal. Normally I don’t really use words like aesthetic, but the way the different places dotted around the world are described and how the two are described to fit into them, I feel like I’m transported TO that place in history. I can see the churches, deserts, orchards, streets, markets, or wherever they are right in front of me, and it’s frankly gorgeous.

I LOVE historical flashbacks like this in general in the Good Omens fandom, but this fic does this AMAZINGLY, and it does it A LOT, so that’s a serious win in my books.

Something I also found extremely lovely about the flashbacks, as well as the present day parts of the story, brings me to my next part:

Pt 3: Gender who? Gender what? Gender none, gender all!

The gender fluidity/fluidity of gender expression of both Aziraphale and Crowley makes my heart flutter like nothing else. Like seriously. This is one of the main reasons I love this fandom.

It has long been stated that angels and demons have no inherent gender, and within the show Crowley presents as male and female in varying instances. Neil Gaiman has heavily implied Crowley being gender fluid before. In response, the fandom has completely flourished into a beautiful thing of gender acceptance and flexibility.

The fanart of the Good Omens fandom makes me so happy, because people will draw Aziraphale and Crowley in any manner they choose without feeling the need to explain it or label it as an “alternate universe.” The simple casualness around the topic of gender in this fandom sets a precedent of tolerance for the rest of the world, and also just warms my heart in ways I can’t explain.

Journeytogallifrey embraces this part of the fandom with open arms, with both Aziraphale and Crowley taking on a variety of appearances and roles throughout the flashback. The detail of changing Crowley’s pronouns depending on the flashback whilst Aziraphale maintains he/him no matter his form is a wonderful touch, and made me stupidly happy. The same goes for Crowley changing appearances to fit the alias of Nanny Ashtoreth later on in the fic, as well as his discussion with Warlock that it is all still himself, no matter what form he takes.

In my opinion, the fluidity and ease in which gender, masculinity, and femininity is expressed by Aziraphale and Crowley, both through the flashbacks and in present day, is done wonderfully, and serves to demonstrate the reason why I love this fandom so incredibly much.

Pt 4: Stabbing me gently in the feels (that’s gotta be a song lyric somewhere)

Another thing is I thought the push and pull and tender misunderstandings of these two throughout the fic is AMAZING. The delicate handling of this relationship is super wonderful and feels so stupidly softly heart wrenching. Like you’re not ripping my heart to pieces, but just kind of tugging on it. Seriously, I just wanted to hold these two and hug them and explain all their misunderstandings and send them away holding hands. The angst is so soft and tender I really can’t complain too badly.

The setup conflict between the two is, like, absolutely genius. I love it. Aziraphale trying to woo Crowley with as many gifts and miracles as possible while also playing cutely dumb about it, meanwhile Crowley is freaking out because all these miracles his lovesick heart is creating subconsciously might expose his super special secret feelings to Aziraphale, and that’d be baaaad news huh?

It’s some wonderfully sweet irony that Aziraphale innocently playing dumb is convincing Crowley he’s conjuring little mini proclamations of his super confidential feelings, and that Crowley is desperately trying to hide signs of said super duper confidential feelings while Aziraphale is actively trying to woo said demon.

This creates a lovely pushing and pulling dynamic full of tenderness and love, and it KILLED ME SLOWLY. 10/10 high quality soft angst.

Side note: I really liked the way Aziraphale and Crowleys relationship with Warlock was covered in this fic, especially Crowley’s attachment to Warlock as his nanny who raised him ever since he was little. I thought the desire to reach out to Warlock post Apocalypse was really heartfelt and sweet, and it made me feel stupidly warm seeing Aziraphale help Crowley reach out and later on solidify that relationship with Warlock.

Pt 5: How are you still here?? If you are, here have this

So um…….. this ended up being really long. My bad. I mean no one’s gonna read this anyways but I still feel a little awkward standing at the end of this VERY long ramble baby.

I just wanted to end this off by saying that One Miraculous December was SUCH a great fic, full of coziness and charm and silliness and tenderness and a lovingly crafted holiday vibe unlike no other fic I’ve read. I will definitely be rereading this fic around Christmas time, the digital equivalent of snuggling up beside a warm fireplace with hot cocoa and a good book. I seriously loved this fic so much! Like, it was just good vibes the entire way through, and I have obviously been keeping up with journeytogallifrey’s works ever since I read this one. Please please please, read this fic and give it some serious love, because it deserves it so much. I don’t know how you did it mysterious person who probably doesn’t even exist, but you got to the end. Thank you for reading my dear little ramble baby about One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey.

Now that was technically the end, but as an extra little thingy, here are some other recommendations of fics from journeytogallifrey, because they are a seriously talented author and have some amazing gems in there!

Here’s a list of my favorites:

Everything That’s Meant (T)

One of journeytogallifrey’s more recent and more popular works, this is an only slightly meta fic in which Aziraphale and Crowley are human actors playing the angel Raphael and the demon Asmodeus in the tv adaptation of Agnes Nutter’s novel Prophecies. The two actors have electrifying chemistry, but much stands in the way of the two of them, from Aziraphale’s complicated family to a haunted tv set to the things spread by the press about the two.

105,000 words (a big guy!), with 39 chapters, but such a joy to read! It’s a bit heavier in plot and emotions, and the romance is a little bit of higher stakes, but the soft moments between the two as they grow closer 100% makes up for it.

Scenes from an Italian Restaurant (T)

The shortest one of my favorites at 7,000 words in a single chapter and lightly inspired by the Billy Joel song of the same name, it tells the story of childhood friends Aziraphale and Crowley both from in their youth and reunited as adults as they dine together at (surprise surprise) their favorite Italian restaurant. There’s some hidden feelings, light angst, high school gossip, and a whole lot of stuff that happens at the tables of this Italian restaurant. In general though, it’s a wonderful, lighthearted, bite-sized time.

Infernal Escapes (T)

Roughly 37,000 words, this fic is a cute and lighthearted romance set in an escape room place. Crowley is the long suffering employee of an escape room, and is enamored by the intelligence and enthusiasm of escape room newbie, Aziraphale. The two strike up a friendship built on their love of escape rooms, and a cute and easy romance ensues. This was such a joy to read, and their easy chemistry based on their shared passion for escape rooms is infectiously sweet. There is very little to no conflict or angst in this story, so it’s a slightly lengthy but incredibly easy ride, entirely smooth sailing. If you just wanna watch two strangers meet and fall in love without all the extra things (because like, same honestly), please read this.

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

spoilers: set in season 6

warning: this is kind of an age-gap fic?? it’s not solely about that, but that’s referenced

Never Wondered?

Unfortunately, it wasnt an uncommon occurrence. Being one of the few young and single women in Alexandria, you gained far more attention than you wanted, and from all the wrong people.

Daryl watches from his porch as Spencer approaches you, and he scoffs, shaking his head and looking away. He doesnt want to see another guy get shutdown, it really is embarrassing for them. This isnt the first time Spencer has tried it either, clearly last time you werent harsh enough, which means this time you’ll pull out all the stops to make sure he gets the message. However, Daryl cant ever keep his gaze from you for long, and his eyes seem to drift back to you at the perfect time. Spencer puts his hand on your waist, and you slap it away, stepping back from him with a deep set frown on your face. Daryl is at your side in an instant, both to protect you and also to save Spencer’s ass, because he has no idea what you’re capable of. Your face softens when you look up at Daryl, like it always does.

“Leave her alone man, she aint in’erested.” Daryl grumbles, trying to lead you away from Spencer, and you gladly accept his invitation away from the situation. Until Spencer opens his big, stupid mouth again.

“I could treat you better than some old redneck.”

You stop dead in your tracks, the silence that falls after Spencer’s quiet, muttering words almost eery. Movements so slow they’re scary, you turn back around to face Spencer.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You call out, voice loud, wanting to make sure you heard him right.

Daryl stares at you worriedly, knowing from previous experience with guys testing your patience in front of him that your tone means you’re about to wreck house, but he’s unsure why. Sure, Spencer just disrespected Daryl in front of you, but he only insulted Daryl for being older than you, which he is, but in the position of your boyfriend, which he isnt. The two of you are close, you’ve been close for years, but you’ve always just been friends.

Spencer’s eyes widen, he hadnt expected you to hear him.

“I said-“ He begins, but you cut him off.

“You’re really stupid enough to repeat that shit to my face? Nah.” You shake your head, taking three quick strides towards him before your swift right hook cracks his jaw, forcing Spencer to the floor him.

Without a second thought, you kick Spencer onto his back and straddle his chest, punching him in the face one more time for good measure, then gripping his collar. He stares up at you with fear in his eyes, and you’re about to say more, but Daryl’s arms wrap around you from behind and pull you off of him. It doesnt take you long to figure out why he’d stopped you, Deanna and Rick are running down the street. Rick runs to you, while Deanna crouches down beside her piss baby son. She looks to you for an explanation, Daryl still holding you back.

“Sorry Deanna, but quite frankly this particular son of yours is a spineless little bitch. If he tries anything with Daryl or I again, he’ll regret it.” You tell her confidently, unafraid of what her response will be; you wont lie for someone like that just to keep your residency safe.

Deanna nods knowingly, sighing. “Sorry, I know he can be a little much. I already told him you two were an item, thought that’d take him off the scent, but...apparently I was mistaken. On his behalf, I apologise.” She says, looking up at you sincerely, and you nod at her in acceptance.

Rick lifts your hands, examining your bloody knuckles as he laughs. “You’d better go see the doctor.”

You smile at him. “Ya think that’s bad, take a look at the other guy.”

Rick laughs harder and pats your shoulder, ushering you and Daryl away. Much like many other occasions, your best friend has stayed silent during all of this, and he stays silent during the walk to the infirmary, but for some reason it feels like this time around he has something he wants to say, he just doesnt know how.

As soon as you step inside, Denise tosses Daryl an icepack, which he immediately passes to you.

“Oh, sorry, I heard the commotion outside and when you walked in I assumed Daryl had been the other guy.” Denise apologises guilty, and you grin at her.

“No worries, I beat him to it.” You nudge Daryl gently and he huffs at you.

Holding the icepack to your knuckles, Denise gestures for you to sit down, and she examines your wounds.

“A few split knuckles and some intense bruising, but no breaks. You knew what you were doing!” She chuckles, and you wink at her.

“Always do!”

You and Denise make casual conversation for a few minutes until she’s called outside to deal with a kid that’s fallen over pretty badly, leaving you and Daryl alone.

For maybe another minute, silence fills the room. The two of you have often enjoyed comfortable silences together, it was one of the many reliefs of befriending you: Daryl always knew you didnt expect him to talk, he liked that. However, after mulling over his words since the moment you defended him, Daryl finds what he wants to say.

“Why’d ya do that for me but not for yerself?” He asks, causing you to look up at him from across the room.

You smile. “When some guy is making me uncomfortable, I have a somewhat instinctive fear of what could happen. But when anyone, anyone at all, so much as gives you a dirty look? I’ll lose my shit, and that’s a promise.”

Daryl frowns, more confused than he was prior to your explanation. “Why?”

You shrug. “‘Cause you’re always the one to protect others, it’s about time somebody offered to protect you.”

Daryl scoffs, feeling somewhat defensive all of a sudden. “Can handle myself.”

Those kind eyes coax him back out of his shell. “Never said you couldnt, but that doesnt mean you shouldnt feel safe and protected too.”

Nothing else is said after that. When Dennise eventually returns, she apologises for forgetting to tell you that you’re free to go, but she isnt confused as to why Daryl’s still with you. Everyone here knows that if they ever need to find him, he’s never far from you. The two of you wordlessly head to your separate houses, Daryl feeling guilty for not thanking you, but you knowing he’s grateful without him having to tell you.

The next day, Daryl’s back on his porch when Spencer approaches you again. This time you’re further away, so Daryl stands up and slowly edges closer. Not too close to be obvious, but close enough to jump in if you need him. You stand with your arms crossed, nodding your way through Spencer’s clearly rehearsed speech that he definitely didnt come up with on his own. The speech takes so long that Daryl debates going and sitting back down for a minute, but then it ends, and you start responding.

“Oh, cool, you’re giving me a second to speak now? Much appreciated.” Uh-oh, Daryl recognises the sharpness in your voice, Spencer’s in for it now. You take a step closer to him, standing almost toe to toe, and despite being shorter than him, you somehow tower over him. “Let me just clarify that I dont give a shit about the apology your mom made you memorise, I appreciate her efforts, but I do not forgive you. So, for once in your life do the smart thing and read the fucking room: stay the hell away from Daryl, or I will beat your ass.” You pause, standing up on your tiptoes and grinning at him right in his sorry little face. “Again.”

You dont give Spencer the chance to reply, you just flip him off, but with the back of your middle finger literally pressing against his nose.

With that, you walk away, spotting Daryl almost immediately and smiling at him, your smile totally different than it had been when talking to Spencer, who’s walking away looking shell shocked.

“Thanks.” Daryl says shyly, avoiding your eyes.

You grin up at him. “No need to thank me, I know you’d do the same for me.”

Daryl shrugs your kindness off as per usual as he flops back down on the porch. “Yeah, but ‘s different.”

You raise an eyebrow and sit down beside him. “Why is it different?”

Daryl keeps his gaze locked on his raised knees as he wraps his arms around them loosely. “Im s’posed to defend you, s’posed to defend myself, too.”

You sigh dramatically, causing Daryl to look at you. “Well, if you’re sticking to all those outdated stereotypes of a gentleman, what does that leave me to do for you?” Daryl shrugs, and you ever so casually rest your head on his shoulder. “I dont need you to defend me at every opportunity because I know that you always would, you have nothing to prove to me, Daryl. I know you’re a gentleman.”

Daryl’s voice softens. “Ya aint got nothin’ to prove t’ me neither.”

You shake your head against his shoulder. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. A gentleman deserves to have his honour defended, and I know for a fact you’ve never really had anyone protect you before.”

Daryl huffs. “Had Merle.”

You sigh. “Yeah, exactly.” You loop your arm under his as it stays firmly wrapped around his knee, you hold onto his bicep. “You’ve never had anyone to protect you, and just because you’ve convinced yourself you dont need that, doesnt mean you wouldnt like it. You deserve to feel safe, you arent alone, Daryl. I’ve got your back.” As if to emphasise the meaning behind your words, you turn your head to kiss his shoulder, and Daryl tenses up.

“Spencer was wrong.” He says, and you nod.

“I know, he was completely out of line.” You agree, but Daryl shakes his head.

“Naw, he aint wrong in what he said about me, but he was wrong with what he meant by it.” Daryl says, and your arm leaves his as you sit up straight and turn to face him with an intense frown on your face.

“And what did he mean?” You ask him, like you dont already know.

Daryl fidgets awkwardly. “Y’know, he thought...same as what Deanna thought.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what would be so bad if they were right? Because I can tell you now, Spencer was wrong in absolutely everything he said; he referred to aspects of you that would in no way make you a bad partner, to anyone, but especially not to me!”

Daryl turns to you, searching your eyes. “Whaddaya mean?”

Your face softens into a gentle smile. “Daryl, we are both adults, you being older than me makes no difference. Your accent and the things you know as a result of where you came from are all things I find incredibly hot, quite frankly. There isnt a single aspect of you that implies you would be a bad boyfriend, or that you wouldnt treat me well. In fact, I firmly believe that no woman could be treated better by any man than you.” You tell him, and Daryl has to avoid your eyes, the sincerity in your words being too much for him. You giggle at his reaction, resting your head back on his shoulder. “You never wondered why I dont correct people when they think we’re together?”

Daryl is quiet as he chews on his lip, debating his choice of words before he answers. “Never wondered why I dont neither?”

At that, you giggle again, turning to place another kiss on his shoulder as you loop your arm back under his. “Nope.”

Daryl smiles, and the two of you fall into another one of your comfortable silences, sat on his porch and staring at nothing in particular.

Somehow, you’d wiggled your way right into Daryl’s heart, and by the looks of things, you showed no sign of leaving. Much to his own surprise, and what he’s sure would also be Merle’s amusement, Daryl doesnt seem to mind one bit.

[halfmoth-halfman]

The new chapter??? I mean, every time I read your fics I’m completely immersed in the story. The way you distribute tension in the chapters makes them so interesting, I’m never at a point where I feel like the story is getting boring. (English is my third language if any of this is confusing I apologise😭).

And the conversation with Ghost?? I’ve been waiting for something like it, I’m really interested in your portrayal of him!! I feel like you’re one of the few writers who write him well, I’d love to see some sort of character analysis of him from your perspective. I love how humble he is with Canary once he realised his mistake, how he immediately helped her when she was panicking in the bathroom. I’m definitely gonna reread the entire series today😭

aaaaaaa omg thank you so much and your english is perfectly fine don't even worry about it!!

honestly i could talk about mr simon ghost riley for hours, i already annoy @mvtthewmurdvck with my ramblings about him sometimes LMAO but i'll give a little insight at least in regards to how he acts with canary for how i view him in this au!!

i think his biggest thing is loyalty and family. like since roba, the 141 are the only people he considers himself close to and there's this deep fear of losing them the same way he lost his family before so he does whatever he can to keep that from happening.

he's extremely suspicious of outsiders, like canary for example, bordering on paranoia that he can usually calm by finding information on someone and figuring out if they're a friend or if he needs to keep a bigger eye on them. which is what really set him off about canary. not only was she essentially a ghost, but she spoke russian (like makarov) and had the unfortunate timing of getting so close to price (a man ghost highly respects) at the same time makarov started moving in on their territory.

his suspicions about her kept getting raised, and, being as stubborn and dedicated to the 141 as he is, he wasn't going to just let her go without any information on her. he needs to know that she's safe enough to have around her family which unfortunately left with a bit of a one-track focus and open to being spied on.

it's his job to keep the 141 safe and he takes that very seriously. he's not afraid to do the dirty work and price kind of depends on that and that gives him a lot of power to work with. that doesn't mean ghost is heartless or cruel, though. like i said about the bathroom scene with canary, he knows when he's wrong and he's not afraid to accept responsibility for that. i think he has an esp soft spot for abused women and children, which only adds on to the guilt he feels toward canary.

all of this rambling to say, i think at the root of everything he just doesn't want his family taken from him again, and he does whatever he has to to give himself that peace of mind that he's keeping them safe. of course, he feels bad that canary got caught in the crossfires, and he'll help make that up to her, but he'll never feel bad about having suspicions about her.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOOO nah dw abt embarrassing me it must be done….Id rather you see it than have me send it to someone who doesn’t match my freak and have them think im insane

Omg Karasu in the lead?? Guys…….Mira you’ve fr cultivated Karasu nation LMAOO but no you’re so right I remember seeing a poll awhile ago from someone and ofc there were the fan faves like Nagi Reo Kaiser as options and I was shocked to see Karasu there?? Ofc he was dead last in the results but not unexpected ig….also BAROU THIRD GUYS!!!! Barouism rising too??

No seriously Isagi would be sooo cooked if Nagi wasn’t there….trust I know that Nagi goal in u20 is gonna make him skyrocket I’m imagining all the edits to it now LMAO

It’s just the miraverse of content….new genre it’s called “would Mira watch this?” The parallels do go hard though I wasn’t expecting to find so many LOL

HAAHA SHIDOU lowk that’d be really funny….imagine like a 200k wc fic of Shidou shenanigans and sus quotes

Maybe I’ve been too desensitized because when you said too extreme I was expecting a lot more violence LMAO you got the perfect amount though I think when you said extreme I was thinking of Shidou level oops

NO FR?? Like he’s not gonna ever take the top spot but lowk I’ve grown to appreciate him….youre so right though LOLL closeted sweetheart >>> closeted asshole bro wait the grape candy scene was so cute I forgot to mention….its so funny how he kinda just gives it to her without saying anything about it like how people would do secret deals or something but no it’s just grape candy LMAOOO

THREE bro….the aura is crazy…to the dude who wanted your insta you should’ve been like “if you buy me a $50 cupcake I’ll give it to you” /j lowk investing in a bodyguard does not sound like a bad idea tho

OOOOOOH very excited for everything….also the whole masterlist layout for the oaeu>>>>>>>> the visuals look so CLEAN omg but guys look it’s aiku on Mira’s blog!!!! I saw the poll and have not touched it like wdym I’m supposed to choose???? Let’s see if I can be decisive for once but just know I was debating between tabieitaken and barou….speaking of im kinda curious to see which idea of mine will spark inspiration first LMAO take ur time tho im being so well fed with everything in the lineup so far

Im also laughing missing the cutoff is so funny to me because (unless I didn’t read something) it’s like if you didn’t safely get something in before the impending arrival of aiku you’re in for the long ride LMAOOOO

Ok actually real time update I just put them into a random generator to pick and voted LOL because there’s no way I’m deciding in time but I needed to show some opinion somehow….ok but anyways the main point I came back for was why is Nagi tied with your vote tracking option LMFAOOOOO I’m ngl I’ve never set up a poll here what’s the purpose of that…I just know that people aren’t supposed to pick it but I’m crying why does it have more votes than otoya and yuki

- Karasu anon

HAHA okay that is fair i will def keep you posted on any future typos 🤩 honestly they add to the experience though i mean what is a translator without occasional goofs (/j but also as someone who read a 1.5 million word novel translated online from korean #orv i am very used to wading through odd phrasing to get to the heart of a story so ngl sometimes my mind just skips over typos entirely and i don’t even notice)

unfortunately karasu nation has fallen…he’s in second now (w barou as a very close third) because SAE ITOSHI has a healthy lead 😭 honestly it was expected that man just has too many fans 😓 and most of the other characters on there aren’t AS popular (i’m sure there would’ve been more of a split if rin kaiser or isagi were included but honestly none of them were screaming oaeu to me…sae is kinda in the same category as them for me but he had strong oaeu potential hence why he’s included despite not being a miraverse all star like nagi karasu and barou)

I AM SOOO HYPE FOR THE EDITS PLSSS karasu and otoya edits from third selection?? nagi edits from the u20 game?? BAROU EDITS FROM THE U20 GAME 🤤⁉️ AHHH it’s going to be so good i just know those editors are going to cook up so many delicious concepts i’m actually hype (barely one more month we’re so close!!) and LMAOO no literally iirc nagi scored like four of the five goals against barou and naruhaya or something like if he hadn’t done that isagi would’ve had the naruhaya treatment and been out for good 😭 tik tok fans forgetting who the og goat of bllk was 😢 okay but honestly that’s why i love having nagi AND barou as my favs because one or the other is always up!! truly no losing there (and bllk bros automatically respect anyone who loves barou because most of them are barou glazers as if barou is ANYTHING like them 😒)

i guess part of it is also probably just kaneshiro using typical character archetypes too?? like girly dude white haired dude flirty dude etc etc the nagi dragon art was insane work though like what was the reason for that except to cater to us specifically

nah because yk i’d cook even for shidou 😭 but he would not be my first choice (or my second, or third, so on and so forth) HAHA he’s just a bit too chaotic plus like we’ve mentioned i don’t really find him too attractive even though ik some people do?? LMAOO omg idt i could ever write a character as violent as him especially not kiyora…like he’s chill for the most part just not hesitant to punch someone if needed i guess is how i interpreted it?? whereas shidou would just do it for funsies

I HAD FUN WRITING THE GRAPE CANDY SCENE IT JUST FELT SO HIM like the way he gives her a piece after she successfully swallows a pill as if she’s a dog or smth it’s just so innocent 😭 meanwhile reader is like “wow our tongues will match 😏” FBXJFKDS and him writing his number on the empty box so he doesn’t have to throw it away OR actually give her his number in person for fear of rejection…kiyora my underrated goat fr 🥹

JFNFJDDJSJ PLSSS just drop a quick “erm have i known you since you were four years old?? yeah i didn’t THINK so!!” and move on…i fear writing has made my standards very high hence why i’ve never been in a relationship but you’ll never catch me settling fr 🥱 if they’re not like bfb karasu or peregrine nagi or white butterfly hiori I DON’T WANT THEM 🤣 or ig someone like seabird sae would work too HAHA i’ll sacrifice the pining for a man w money and a sense of humor 🤩

OMG YAYYY I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT i was inspired by those dollar store self help books as well as rom com movie covers when i was making it and i think it turned out well!! and then i saw one of the graphics accounts i follow had posted the green and purple hearts divider and i was like holy shit this is PERFECT it matches so so well w his entire aesthetic…also peep oliver and aiku being diff colors like his heterchromia 😮 LMAOO genuinely this is probably aiku’s first appearance on my blog (besides his cameo in the last part of fwtkac) but ahhh i’m trying to figure out which req to do next myself!! i have a few to choose from so there’s def a bit of variety…i’m thinking of your requests i’ll probably do chigiri?? because barou is part of the oaeu and idk if i feel connected enough to bachira to write for him yet 🙂‍↕️

NFJDBXSNK no because that’s literally what it is…after the gagamaru req my inbox was pretty stagnant in terms of new reqs so i was like ok let me just get these ones cleared out and then i’ll go back to posting my own things again as well 😭 literally the two hiori requests are from my 500 follower event so from back in JUNE like i need to wrap these up and post them 😭 but idm making the newer ones wait like they can go on the crazy oaeu ride w all of us in the meantime 😩

OMG WHO DID YOU END UP VOTING FOR (unless you want to keep it a secret because if so i understand 🫡) also omg that annoys me sm like fr a pet peeve…basically no one can see the results of a poll until they vote but that includes the creator of the poll?? so if you don’t want to skew the results you just make another option so you can keep track of the poll while it’s still open 🤩 but i absolutely HATE when people pick that option like are you seriously that desperate to know the answer that you pick the option that literally says it’s only for me?? it doesn’t matter what you put people will vote on it but it’s so annoying ughhhh i can’t stop putting it because i’m nosy and like to know what’s going on with the poll in real time but it fr irritates me that people pick it like literally just choose a random option if it’s that deep 😒 i think part of what annoys me is like it so clearly says don’t pick it…and then people still pick it…like were you all dropped on the heads as children or smth…ANYWAYS sorry i feel like i’m so chill normally but there’s random things that genuinely make me crash out for no reason 😭 ALSO POOR YUKI AND OTOYA they’re still behind the FOR MIRA ONLY OPTION (me rn: 🤬😡) atp i’m not going to do polls anymore…like damn sorry i tried to get you all involved why are you being stupid and illiterate rn

actually tbh it’s not that deep idk why it enrages me sm 😰 but uhhh i fear it does for some reason

[broifoundher]

Hey people! I found another old fic of mine. Again, from before I joined tumblr and yes, this one does have an ending. Ok, well… contains spoilers obviously.

Happy reading!! (or not, if you don’t enjoy…)

DEAD

Angst (title speaks for itself), happy ending

Psst… I tried keeping as much of the original as possible. But I did however make a few —lots of, actually— changes —but nothing to the story, just to the writing— so that it’s easier to understand, because, let’s be honest, I was even more disorganized then than I am today.

At least 2,5k words (I really don’t know, I added a lot of descriptive words…)

Chapter 1 : Dead

You met Alex first. Then she introduced you to her sister.

And from that moment on, the youngest was infatuated with you.

But then you got kidnapped by her aunt.

———

“The alien has fused with her metabolism. It’s like they’ve become one.” Explained Winn.

“Are you sure? Is there any way to reverse it?” Asked Kara, hopeful as always.

“No. Not with the technology we have.” Apologetically explained Winn.

“What about my pod? We can use Krypton’s technology?” Stated Kara.

“Except, that is included in what we have.” Rectified Winn.

(Alarms)

“What’s that?” Asked Kara and the screens immediately lit up, putting up the feed of your holding area.

“She woke up. Not her. But the alien. Again.” Said Winn.

(Another set of alarms)

“She just broke her restraints.” Said Winn. “Oh god, we haven’t found anything to weaken her yet… I mean it! … This is bad… This is terribly bad…” Stated Winn as you started punching the glass. Cracking it despite it being one of the most solid things in the intergalactic market.

“She just broke out of containment.” Stated Kara. “I’m going.”

“Wait! No.” Went Winn, but she was already gone.

Meanwhile, he watched as you ruthlessly killed DEO agents that were once your comrades.

And though a part of him felt sorry for you, another was reluctant to lock down the facility. To at least slow you down before you go wreck the city.

Because the unfortunate truth was they had no idea if they could actually hold you down anymore. And drag your ass back to containment. Maybe they’d even need to kill you? Would they even be able to do it?

…

“(Y/N)! Please, listen to me.” Said Kara as she arrived on scene right as you smashed an agent’s head into the wall, bursting his skull open.

Splattering his blood onto yourself and around. Your face’s muscles didn’t even flinch out of the neutral expression it was wearing. Not even blinking.

Meanwhile, Kara barely contained herself from puking right there and then at the stench and sight of death.

“Please…” She pleaded. “Please come back to me.” She tried controlling her trembling lips. “I know you’re in there, somewhere…” She whispered. “You’ve gotta be!”

You looked at her into her sky blue eyes as you let go of the corpse. Before nonchalantly making your way towards her.

“(Y/N). (Y/N)?” She asked, feeling more scared than hopeful at the look in your eyes. “Please. Can you hear me?” She asked, not realizing she had lifted her hands up and in between the both of you. “Are you there?”

You stopped dead in your track when you heard the uncertain waver in her voice and you focused on the way she suddenly breathed in messily.

“Please. This isn’t you.” She went on, a glint of hope that you had stopped because you had recognized her. “I know the real you. And you’re one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kept on walking forward, gaining bits of confidence in her every step. All the while, you simply observed, unmoving like statue and with a blank expression. Though your head tilted slightly to the side when she had reached proximity.

But then, doors wired open and agents came rushing.

Your head whipped around to them and they, much like the others, were disposed of quite easily and quickly.

You weren’t particularly fast considering her super speed. But to the human body’s reaction speed, it was fast. And the shock kept her frozen in place a second too long. As you cracked and squashed bodies here and there, ruthlessly.

“No! No. No. No.” Screamed Kara, devastated and broken.

And it brought your attention back to her.

You could easily assault her like the other agents. And it wasn’t her Kryptonian biology that was keeping you from doing so. Something else.

“Kara, you have to stop her. It’s not her. (Y/N)’s dead, she’s gone. This alien is only wearing her face. Don’t let him drag her reputation through the dirt and into the dumps.” Said a voice in her ears.

She sniffled as she steeled her resolve. Knowing she had to. Knowing that if she didn’t, you’d kill everyone.

But when she opened her eyes and stared at her best friend’s face, she found her resolve melting immediately as she crumbled into a sobbing mess.

“I can’t. I can’t. Alex…” She cried, shaking her head, on her knees and in the literal growing puddles of your victims’ blood.

She sniffled and hung her head down low. Feeling utterly defeated. She wanted to be strong. She had to be. For the sake of humanity.

“I can’t…”

You stared down at her figure.

“Shit, she’s gonna get herself killed.” Cursed Alex as she watched through the cameras.

“Wait, Alex. If you go, you’ll get killed too.” Stated Winn.

“I don’t care. But I won’t sit around watching my sister die when I could’ve at least been there with her.” She stated and ran with her load of weapons.

Kara hit the floor in frustration. She was supposed to be a hero. To be different like Winn had told her. To be above them all, to be better.

But she couldn’t… She was madly in love with you. And despite you not being you anymore. Looking at you was making her entire body fall numb.

You stopped in front of her and bent down. She didn’t even look up, feeling defeated. So you grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back to take a look at her face. Which was tear strained.

She was… well, she was a crying mess.

Everyone was supposed to look ugly when they cry.

But you barely got a glimpse of her sky-blue eyes through the slit that were her eyelids. And through her eyelashes.

Your gaze then trailed all the way down her face to her chin and then her neck. To which you stopped at the throat.

You then used your free hand to trail down the tip of your fingers onto the bulge of her throat.

She was expecting you to have snapped her neck already. And the way you were taking your sweet time made her slightly hope that part of you still remained.

But not Alex.

Who hit you using the alien gravitational gun the DEO had gotten after the Cadmus incident.

And your back hit the concrete ceiling as the gravitational force pined you there.

“Are you okay?” She yelled to her sister.

Unable to break free out of the non materialistic force, you glared at the agent.

“Yeah…” Sighed out Kara as she pushed herself up on frail limbs.

“Good. Then finish her.”

“What?” Asked Kara.

“This is the only thing that has proven to be able to hold her. And even then, we have no idea for how long. It’s the logical thing to do.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Kara. If you don’t do it now, the whole world will be damned!”

“But…” She sobbed.

“Kara. It’s not her.” Alex’s heart was breaking as well and even more seeing her little sister in such a wreck. “But you have to listen to me. Do you remember when you nearly pulverized the DEO because you were angry at your mom for lying to you about Astra?”

Kara listened through her sobs.

“It’s not really her!”

Kara yelled in frustration and sadness at her sister’s words as she burned you to death with her laser vision. Until all that remained of you were mere ashes.

So that the alien had no chance of surviving. Whatever it was.

Alex then let go of the gun’s trigger and Kara collapsed to her knees. Hurt, terribly terribly hurt.

Alex let go of the alien gun and padded in the pool of blood to held her sister into her arms.

As she tried to desperately hold her own tears.

While Winn cried in front of the screens.

This had been a terrible experience to the entire group of super friends. A hard, unfortunate and difficult experience. That some had more difficulty to pass over than others.

And Kara was never the same.

She spent days in a bundle of pain as she cried day in and day out. Her family and friends worried about her. But she wouldn’t let any of them in.

Among all of them, only Lena didn’t have the whole story. So it was understandable why she’d be saying the wrong thing unknowingly.

But for her sister to do so. When she knew exactly what happened. She found it unforgivable.

“You have no idea how it feels!” She yelled at her sister. “Alex.” Almost growling her name. “Imagine —losing —Jeremiah, Eliza… Losing me. Can you imagine it?” She hiccuped through her breath. “And then imagine having to kill Maggie.” Added Kara through gritted teeth and trembling lips. “Can’t you see?”

“I…”

They held a memorial and to the public, you were remembered as just one more of the agents that had gotten killed during the ‘attack’.

However, Kara never came. Not even as Supergirl. And to keep appearances for when she’d come back, J’onn was attending to casual Supergirl duties in her stead.

She drowned in her sorrows in her apartment, feeling completely broken.

Going over and over the things you had done together until the point she had to kill you. The possibilities that she could have made that day.

If she had used her super speed and held the trigger for her sister. Maybe Winn could’ve worked some sort of gravitational waves to keep you restrained. Until they’d be able to cure you?

And if that didn’t work, then maybe with Lena’s help?

If only she had thought of it back then. If only someone had.

“It’s my fault…” She sobbed on her own.

———

Chapter 2 : MusicalChapter 2 : Musical

…

In the end, her family was there for her. Friends too. And slowly but surely, she got stronger and better.

———

Barry and Kara were walking around but she stopped following her friend when she noticed you.

“Oh Rao…” Breathed out Kara as she was definitely looking at you. Or at least, someone that looked like you.

“Kara. You okay?” Asked Barry as he came back for his friend.

“I…” She blinked away a few tears. “I don’t know…”

Barry frowned and glanced over to where she was looking.

“One of yours I guess?” He figured as he spotted and didn’t recognize you. “Good or bad guy?”

“Good.” She ended up answering sadly.

“Come on. We gotta go. It’s not really them.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I know…” She said as she kept her eyes on you.

“Kara? Are you crying?”

She sighed and finally ripped her eyes away from you and looked at her friend.

“Sorry, let’s go.” She said but you nudged her elbow.

“Excuse me my lady, but have we met before?”

She froze and didn’t dare look behind.

Meanwhile, Barry attentively glanced back and forth.

“No…” Answered Kara. Without even turning around. “No. Let’s go Barry.”

“Okay…” Breathed out Barry as Kara pulled him by the arm. Leaving you with a brow tilted. As you watched the woman’s back disappear.

…

“Want to tell me what happened there?”

“Nothing.” Answered Kara.

“Yeah, okay…” Said Barry as he let it go.

…

You then blinked awake again and you were suddenly in… the musical.

You looked around in confusion as you wondered where and how you got there.

“Woah. You’re late to the party.” Said the man that had broken into your apartment. “How is it that your mind was taking such a long time to process this world?”

“Am I dreaming?”

“Hm… Ask the others, I don’t feel like repeating myself today. Bye bye now.” He waved and disappeared.

“What the…” You turned on your feet and frowned. “Where’d he go?”

…

“Alright, I’m sorry, but I can’t ignore it any more.” Said Barry. “Hi! Hello.” He said as he waved and came forward to you. “My name’s Barry. What’s yours?”

“Are you stuck here too?” You asked him, feeling his way of talking closer to yours than the others’.

“Wait. What do you mean stuck here?”

“Were you dropped by this well dressed guy with dark hair into this place?”

“Wait, you mean, you’re real?”

“Are these people not real? Because they feel real?”

“No. Omg. Kara, did you hear that? We’re now three to be trapped in this musical.” Said Barry as he turned to face her.

You looked over and met two beautiful blue orbs staring back at you.

“Hi.” You smiled and waved. “Name’s (Y/N). So you’re Kara?”

Her lips started trembling and you retracted your hand.

“Sorry, did I? Did I do something wrong?” You asked Barry.

“I don’t know.” Shrugged the guy.

“Sorry. Yeah. I’m Kara.” She answered and shook your hand.

“Oh okay… Kara.” You shook her hand and your smile fell. “Kara Danvers.”

Her eyes snapped up to you.

“You have a sister, Alex.” You mumbled like it was coming back to you. “… Supergirl.” You added. “Wait… I had a dream about you before…”

“…” Watched Barry.

And you frowned as you tried remembering. “I can’t… Remember… Oh wait… No, I can…” You blinked and stared sadly into her eyes. “You killed me.”

“Oh.” Gulped Barry.

“I did. I’m sorry. I did.” Cried Kara and you wrapped your arms around her.

“Shh, hey. It’s ok.” You said. “But if I’m dead, what am I doing here?”

“Let me answer that question.” Said the Music Master as he appeared sitting on a table. “You are neither from another universe than Supergirl’s nor are you the creation of her own head.”

“?” You frowned. “Just answer the question dude.”

“You’re not actually dead.” Finally dropped the guy. “Don’t get me wrong, your body is. Burned to ashes. But! Not your soul. You see? Where I come from, eh, you wouldn’t even understand… But! The important thing is, I can help you go back to your previous life where you’d get to live with this fine lady who is simultaneously your killer.”

“Wait. If my body doesn’t exist anymore. Does that mean you’ll make me reincarnate into a dog?”

“What? Well, do you want?” Asked the guy.

“What are the options?”

“It honestly just doesn’t work that way.”

“Am I at least going to remember this?”

“Yes.”

“Will I get my old life back?”

“Hmm… Fine okay.”

“What do you get in exchange?”

“You have nothing to worry about that.”

———

Chapter 3 : Coming HomeChapter 3 : Homecoming

The Music Master handed over a necklace to Kara.

In which contained your soul.

So she left Earth-1 and came back bearing the biggest grin she had in a while.

…

“Did she get brain damage?” Asked Winn.

“She’s smiling.”

“Exactly, she hasn’t smiled this earnestly since…” But then Winn stopped himself. “Sorry.”

“What? No. It’s actually fine.” Said Kara. “Here.” She pointed to her new accessory.

“Necklace? Cool.” Replied Winn, confused.

“It’s (Y/N).” Said Kara as she joined her friends and sister.

“Okay, let’s go scan for brain damage effective immediately.” Stated Winn.

Kara let her shoulders down and opened the little bead, letting your soul out.

“Omg, is that a ghost?” Gasped Alex.

“Hi Alex.” You said. “So this is what he meant? I feel bamboozled.” You said as you looked yourself over. “Can I even touch stuff?”

You tried touching the table but went through it.

“Oh. Bummer.” You pouted.

“Come here.” Said Kara with a huge grin and open arms.

You floated all the way to her and she wrapped her arms around your body.

“I can feel it!” You gasped and she squeezed you.

“I love you so much.” She said as she kissed you on the cheek. And you fully materialized.

“Uh. First aliens, now magic. What next?” Said J’onn.

“I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation to this…” Murmured Winn.

“(Y/N)? Like (Y/N)?” Asked Alex as she travelled towards the both of you. “In like (Y/N) without the psycho alien?”

[nyxicnymph]

Cecilias on the Tiles of Mondstadt

For the Adeptus' Abode Secret Santa hosted by @karovie ! I wrote this Kaebedo fic for *drumroll* Lepan!

This is an offshoot of my Hanahaki AU! I will be posting it to my Ao3 later <3

Kaeya/Albedo, hurt/comfort, Hanahaki (Though a different take), sick fic. 3183 words!

Please enjoy!

--

Kaeya wasn’t feeling well. His chest hurt, like he’d had a particularly bad cold, or a ridiculously rough cough. Still, he’d been through worse, so he pushed through it.

Or he tried to. 

He thought it would be a one day thing. He’d work through it, get over it, and forget it. But he didn’t. The next morning when he woke up, his chest still hurt.

It actually hurt more.

Still, Kaeya kept going. Kept working. Kept ignoring it.

But then he started coughing.

Jean finally made him take sick leave when she heard him coughing, and he was sent back home. But Kaeya was confused. He’s bunked at the headquarters for years, not because he didn’t have the money to buy a house, but because he felt safer surrounded by the people, and the impermanent feeling of it. But Jean shook her head, and told him he had to find somewhere else to stay.

So now he was sitting on the steps outside the headquarters, frantically going over the list of people he knew who didn’t stay at the headquarters. Diluc was an obvious no, though he may let Kaeya rent a room at the Angel’s Share if he’s quiet? But Kaeya isn’t sure he wants to be there. Eula had too small a house to let him camp over until he was well, and he wasn’t even sure Amber had a place. Mona could barely pay her rent, and while he enjoyed Mona’s company, he didn’t want to bother her. Rosaria lived at the church, so she wasn’t really an option for him.

Who else did he know?

Well, there was Albedo. His chest constricted at the thought of the alchemist. The problem with Albedo is that he spent most of his time in the Dragonspine, so he wasn’t around, and the Dragonspine isn’t very conducive to someone with congestion issues.

Kaeya was pretty sure he was congested, at least.

As unfortunate as it was, it seemed his best option was to suck it up and ask Diluc for a place to stay, so Kaeya stood up, and began navigating through Mondstadt. Lucky for Kaeya, Diluc was scheduled to be in the tavern today. And so Kaeya began his trek down to the tavern.

But when he reached the main plaza, he was caught by surprise. Albedo was at the alchemy station, instructing Timaeus on something. Kaeya paused and stared at Albedo, the feeling in his chest intensifying as he stared. He turned away quickly, focusing back on his self-imposed mission to get to Angel’s Share.

“Kaeya? What are you doing down here?” Albedo’s voice cut through the air, making Kaeya stop in his tracks.

Kaeya muffled a cough behind his hand as he turned around. “Well, I’m on sick leave, and banished from the headquarters until I get well again, so I’m off to ask my dear estranged brother for a place to stay.”

Albedo frowned. “I have a house here I never use. I’ve considered selling it, but since I have it, you can use it until you’re well. I can even find someone to stick around in case your condition deteriorates.”

Kaeya’s chest and throat tingled as he began, “I appreciate it, Albedo, but I’d-” A coughing fit cut him off, and he immediately covered his mouth again. When he finally stopped coughing, he realized Albedo was standing over him worriedly, and gently rubbing his back.

“You truly are unwell. You should not be out here anymore, come with me. I refuse to leave you alone here.”

Albedo gently pulled Kaeya out of the main plaza, and down a different street, eventually stopping at a nondescript house and pulling out a key. He unlocked the door, and dragged Kaeya inside.

“It’s a little bare, but it should be furnished enough to keep you comfortable while you recover.”

“Albedo-”

“No, you’re staying here. No running away this time, Kaeya. And you won’t be seeking out things to work on, unless it’s one of Klee’s spare coloring books.”

Kaeya frowned, but the itch was coming back, so instead of disagreeing, he just did as Albedo told him too.

Albedo sat Kaeya in the kitchen, and frowned around the room. “I will have to go shopping so that we have supplies.”

“We?”

Albedo turned to Kaeya and raised an eyebrow. “Did you think I would drop you here and leave you alone? Don’t be ridiculous. Sucrose has everything handled on Dragonspine, Timaeus has the city branch covered, and I was planning to take a slight vacation here in Mondstadt anyway. And since you need someone to make sure you actually rest and recover, I might as well spend my time off with you.” He stood up and shut an empty cabinet. “I’ll leave you here for the 20 minutes it will take me to visit Good Hunter and the general store. If you manage to get into something in twenty minutes, I will tie you to the bed.”

Kaeya nodded, swallowing back another cough. Once Albedo left, Kaeya let the cough out.

It hurt. Like something was forcing itself up his throat. Finally, it dislodged itself.

Something pale fell into Kaeya’s hand. He stared at it in confusion, trying to decipher what it was. He gingerly picked it up and brought it close to his eye, then hurriedly threw it in the nearest trash can.

He didn’t know how he’d swallowed a cecilia petal.

--

Two weeks later, Kaeya was even more sick.

And Albedo had noticed the flowers. Of course he had. No one could expect anything less of his observation skills. He’d immediately gone into solutions mode, trying to find something to deal with the infection without harming Kaeya or his lungs. So far he hadn’t made much headway.

Spending all this time with Albedo was beginning to make Kaeya nervous. Not because of Albedo himself, but because of Kaeya’s own feelings.

He was desperately trying to keep his walls, his carefully constructed, decorated, and camouflaged walls, from tumbling down. There was no way in hell that Kaeya could be attached to anyone beyond a fond amusement. He knew how it worked. You form an attachment, it goes well at first, and then at the first wrong turn, it all goes south. Besides, if things went wrong in the future, it would be better for him to not have as few attachments as possible.

Albedo enter Kaeya’s sickroom, distracting him from his thoughts. The alchemist set down a few books as he entered the room, and looked at the dishes on Kaeya’s bedside.

“You didn’t finish your tea,” he said simply.

“I’m not a huge fan of tea.”

Albedo searched Kaeya’s eyes, not blinking until he found whatever he was looking for. “I’ll find some way you can drink it.”

“Albedo, you don’t have to take care of me.”

“You won’t take care of yourself, we’ve discussed this. Besides, I think I’m getting close to a breakthrough on your condition.” He turned around as Kaeya tried to stifle a cough and a gag. “And none too soon, it seems. Give it to me.”

Albedo held out his hand, and Kaeya hesitated. Unbidden thoughts of putting his own hand in the perfect hand of the alchemist flew through his mind, but in the end, he did as he was told. He placed the bloodstained cecilia flower in Albedo’s hand, and then turned away to look out the window. Albedo hummed as he rolled the stem between his fingers.

“You know, cecilias are my favorite flower. They grow in an isolated, hard to reach place, but they’re strong and resilient. They’re very rare, but not extinct, and with care, we could probably bring them back.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kaeya said. He felt like Albedo was trying to say something else, but his head wasn’t very clear at the moment. Not that it had been clear the last several days, either.

“I swear I’ve read of this illness somewhere before. And of the cure. But it’s not in any of my books. Perhaps it’s in Lisa’s library.”

Kaeya watched Albedo pace around the room in thought. When the other man turned around to face him, though, Kaeya quickly tore his gaze away. Albedo still came close, and rested a hand on Kaeya’s forehead.

“But enough about that. I’ll ask her about it later. You’re getting warm, as I feared. An infection is settling into your lungs.”

As Albedo pulled away, a sudden urge came over Kaeya, to grab the alchemist’s hand, to grasp it tightly, to beg him to stay. But Kaeya was a master of repressing his urges, his emotions, everything.

Besides, Albedo was far too busy and good for a sinner like Kaeya. Still, he just…

“Albedo.” Kaeya’s voice stopped the alchemist in his tracks, and turned him away from the door.

“Yes, Kaeya?” ALbedo looked breathless, almost hopeful as he waited for Kaeya’s response.

“I…” He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he’s come this far. “I wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me.”

Kaeya couldn’t read the look on Albedo’s face anymore, the expression seemingly caught somewhere between sadness and care. “It’s the least I could do. Don’t push yourself, Kaeya. Make sure you drink your water.”

Kaeya nodded as Albedo left the room, not for long, never for long. He couldn’t understand why, it’s not like he was going anywhere.

Kaeya coughed roughly into his hand, more blood and petals spattering the surface. He scoffed as he wiped his hand clean. Who was he kidding? He probably didn’t have much time left.

It was for the better, he guessed. No one else would be hurt by his mission, as vague as it was. No one else would have to worry about him, either.

Still, something nagged at him. Something he’d left untouched, forgotten.

“Oh, great news, Kaeya!” Albedo said as he entered the room again. “Mona stopped by, she’d been borrowing books from Lisa and turns out she found something that can probably help you. It’s a book on diseases that affect the lungs, and she said she was pretty sure she’d found something similar to your case late last night before she passed out.” Albedo frowned at that. “She needs to go to sleep earlier.”

Kaeya sat up a bit, a tidbit of hope blossoming in his chest, between his flora-filled lungs. “Shall we find out what we’re dealing with, then?”

Albedo smiled softly. “Of course.”

The two men spent the next several hours pouring over the book of maladies, Kaeya’s coughs growing more and more frequent as they did so. As the sky grew darker, Albedo stood up.

“You can keep reading, but I’m going to make dinner. If you find something, call for me. I’ll come quickly.”

Kaeya nodded as Albedo placed another cool rag on his forest before leaving. Careful to not drop the rag Albedo had oh-so-gently placed on him, Kaeya returned to perusing the book. They’d started at the beginning of the book, having nothing else to go off of, and since it was sorted alphabetically, they’d been skimming most of the sections. Right now, they were in the “H” section.

At least, they had started it before Albedo went to go make dinner.

So Kaeya was left to skim the book before him alone.

One entry suddenly gave him pause.

Hanahaki: An infectious disease originating from Inazuma. Causes flowers or other flora to grow in the lungs of a person who is in denial or unaware of incredibly strong feelings. Can be removed via verbal acknowledgement of the infected person’s feelings, but should action not be taken, the infected can perish from the infection in a month or even less in some cases. Flora may take the shape of the favorite flora of the person who the repressed or unknown feelings are towards, or may take the form of the infected’s favorite should the feelings be about something different. Frequently occurs in cases of repressed romantic affections, but not exclusive to these specific cases.

Kaeya forgot how to breathe for a moment. The symptoms described, and the pictures shown, were exactly what he had been dealing with for almost… three weeks.

A jolt of fear ran through him. He was running out of time.

“No, don’t panic. There may be another option,” Kaeya told himself. Still, Albedo needed to know what he had found. So Kaeya tried to call Albedo.

Unfortunately, halfway through the name, Kaeya’s voice caught on something, and he bent over the book as he coughed.

Albedo slid to a stop right before the bed before Kaeya finished coughing, scooping up the glass of water and a washcloth, wiping Kaeya’s face with care as he stopped coughing. As Kaeya took a few deep breaths, Albedo handed him the glass, and rubbed circles into his back.

“I’m not an invalid, y’know,” Kaeya remarked finally.

“I do. But if your lungs get clogged anymore, you will be.” Albedo gently tapped on Kaeya’s shoulder blade before continuing his circles. “What did you find?”

Kaeya pointed to the section of the book that he’d been reading. Albedo read it quickly before sucking in a breath. “I see. That would seem to fit, yes.”

Kaeya looked at Albedo as the alchemist snapped the book shut and set it aside. And as Albedo turned to him, it was like Kaeya’s whole world shifted.

“Albedo…” Kaeya began, words failing him for once.

“Yes?”

Kaeya couldn’t voice the sudden, tragic thoughts that were rising to the front of his mind. He couldn’t find the words to say what he was beginning to suspect. Not that he would if he could. All these years, and Kaeya still was just a coward, a weakling.

So he settled on something more mundane. “How’s dinner coming?”

Albedo’s face twitched, like he had something he wanted to say, but didn’t. “It should be done in a few minutes. Should I help you to the table or?”

Kaeya shrugged. “Your call.”

Kaeya could feel his health deteriorating. It had been three days since he’d found that entry in the book, and he’d done nothing about it. Albedo had been more and more desperate to try and get Kaeya to say what was bothering him. Kaeya appreciated the tenacity, but he refused to burden anyone anymore.

And yet. A part of him grew more and more terrified by the day. Every time he coughed, a small part of him that sounded only twelve years old begged him to just say it. To just admit the feelings he had repressed for so long.

Albedo paced by Kaeya’s bedside. The light reflecting off of his platinum hair had Kaeya distracted until he spoke.

“There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do to help delay the process long enough to figure out what you’re repressing so we can save your life! I refuse to let you die.”

Again, Kaeya found his determination admirable, and small (but growing) part of him was tempted to come clean, to blurt it out, and to be done with it. To be well, and possibly happy, to be free.

But sinners weren’t allowed to be happy.

So Kaeya barked out a laugh that transformed into a cough, before speaking. “Albedo, I’ve repressed far too much for us to figure out what might be causing this.”

Albedo simply looked more determined. “I’ve asked someone from the Sumeru Akademiya to come help us. I refuse to let you die, Kaeya. You mean too much to m- Mondstadt.”

Kaeya raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t normal for Albedo to stammer like that. Kaeya let it go, though.

Five days after putting a name to the disease, Kaeya’s resolve was weakening. He was genuinely afraid now. The coughing was far more frequent, and the fits lasted far longer. He was coughing up two to four flowers at a time, as well.

Albedo gently brushed a loose hair out of Kaeya’s face. He had given up trying to coax things out of Kaeya the day before, but he was still determined to take care of the bedridden knight.

Kaeya discarded another flower with a sigh, and the last of resolve crumbled away. But while he was afraid to die, he was afraid almost even more so of rejection.

But he took a deep breath, and with that breath, the first step.

“Albedo. The other day, what did you say your favorite flowers were?”

Albedo’s hand movements slowed and then stopped. “Cecilias. Why?”

Kaeya worried his lower lip between his teeth. “I… Albedo…”

“What is it, Kaeya?” Albedo asked, moving so he was sitting on the bed next to Kaeya.

Kaeya felt tears pricking at the corner of his eye as he fought against his fears and insecurities. “I think…” He took another deep breath. “Albedo, I think I have feelings for you.” He didn’t pick up his head, but at Albedo’s continued silence, he continued. “I mean, romantic ones. I know I’m-”

“Kaeya.” Albedo’s voice wavered, making Kaeya pick up his head. “Do you love me?”

Kaeya felt his chest tighten just a bit as he processed the question. Then he exhaled. “Yes? I do. I love you, and I know it’s too much to ask you to return my feelings, but-”

“Do you think I did all of this for you for no other reason than just being nice?” Albedo asked, his voice still quavering. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, Kaeya.”

Kaeya felt tears running down his face as Albedo’s words sunk in and his lungs slowly cleared. “You have?”

“Yes. I never told you because I didn’t want to distract you from your work. But I can’t stand to see you think that you mean nothing to me, Kaeya, because you mean the world to me.” Albedo wiped Kaeya’s tears away. “I’ll always choose you, Kaeya.”

“Even if-”

“Always.” Albedo reaffirmed. “There is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. You are not a sinner, you are not a traitor, you are not useless, or selfish, or untrustworthy. You are Kaeya, and that’s enough for me.”

Kaeya started Crying, leaning his head farther into Albedo’s hand, desperately trying to regain control of himself. But he couldn’t. Albedo pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back in those soothing, calming circles, and Kaeya only cried harder.

He’d been scared and stressed for far too long, and repressing pieces of himself for even longer. Now that he’d had it all out, he felt he wouldn’t be able to ever hide it again.

And yet, as he looked up into Albedo’s crystal blue eyes, and nervously returned the alchemist’s smile, he wondered.

Would it really be that bad to be a little more open, not just with other people, but with himself, too?

“Kaeya, may I?” Albedo asked, his thumb tapping gently on Kaeya’s lips.

Kaeya hesitated, but then he nodded, and leaned forward to meet Albedo in the middle.

Finally, finally, Kaeya no longer felt completely alone in the world.

~fin~

[nehswritesstuffs]

I really enjoy your TTOU AU. I’m curious if you’re going to continue writing chapters for it. Thanks for your awesome writing!!! 😊

*side-eyes people in my DMs*

Here's the short answer: I plan on it, but cannot give an estimated start date since other varying things are taking priority. In the meantime, know I love you and your support, Greyscale, as it keeps me going.

Long answer under the cut.

The thing about The Thick of UNIT is this: it's very long and very convoluted. At this juncture I need to do a complete read-through, probably do some slight editing to what's already up, take a long look at what I have planned, and then edit that to hell and back as I tighten the story and get it on track again. The main things keeping me from doing this are:

Size: We're talking 225k words thus far by AO3's estimation. That's a lot to go through! And that's just the main story! It's 283.5k words with all the extras!

Time: There's only so much spare time I have available to write, let alone edit this monster.

Writing Resources: This is something a lot of fic writers understand, I think, because it's about what ideas are flowing and when. You have to go where there is flow, or else things will be bad.

My Editor: He's still not done and is even more scattered than me when it comes to this, if you'll believe, and since he and I don't control what the other does...

Real Life: I've been job hunting for a year (exactly; I was let go a year ago today) and I'm engaged, so I've been trying to get house-hunting and wedding planning off the ground (there's a lot of barriers here I won't go into). Plus there's a bunch of normal things that I'd do anyhow involving family and friend groups that take up time. energy, and resources. And I'm a tante now?! Tantes are cool.

Indifference: Now this is admittedly a weird one that deserves explaining. I still love The Thick of UNIT, as well as the parent shows Doctor Who and The Thick of It! They all still hold a special place in my heart. It's just... well... I average single-digit notes on here. I don't have enough reviews on FFN for there to be one per chapter. Most of my comments on AO3 are conversations. Although I'll be one of the first to say that you need to write fic for yourself and don't worry about an audience, I will also admit that it's very difficult to put into practice. I hit a big ol' wall of burnout with TTOU, which is something that can happen to anyone about anything, even stuff they love, and I'm trying to get over that and the indifference it causes. also everything that i've seen of DW post-Twelve is just irritating and i feel so fucking bad for Gatwa and none of that helps any

So... yeah... the double-edged sword with longfics is that they are a lot of time and energy, which I unfortunately do not have a lot of to spare. "But what about those other fics I see you posting?" That's where all my writing resources go, because the ideas are flowing there. It's probably weird to think about since I was almost exclusively writing fic for Doctor Who and The Thick of It for nine years, but what I've been able to churn out lately hits something completely different, deep down in my soul from before I even knew what Doctor Who was, before The Thick of It first aired, and a lot of it is a bit existential in its own way.

"But what am I going to do in the meantime?!" Feel free to check out my bookmarks on AO3, which has a lot of TTOU fic (including some by the lovely @fajrbismuth, whose tumblr url is yes from the fic). That not enough? Maybe, idk, create something of your own. Write some fic, draw art, create a moodboard, do something that channels your love for it. and maybe if you make sure i see it, i can reblog it for everyone here to see. Hell, I don't even care if you do your own Malcolm/Kate stories independent of TTOU. I can't stop you.

Thank you, though, for all your love and support over the past, what eight years of this. It's humbling when I get to see how much people love my writing and it really does make it worth it in the end.

[grem-archive]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Oh, geez, so I’ve never really done one of these before haha but thank you to @draw-a-circle-thats-the-compass for the tag!

What book are you currently reading?

Unfortunately, I haven’t been reading much lately, but I am looking for suggestions! The last thing I read was Pox Americana by Elizabeth A. Fenn. It’s about the smallpox epidemic that hit North America around the time of the American Revolution and its effects, but it simultaneously takes you on a broader look at the impact, such as on Native American populations and the outbreak in Mexico City. Granted, it was for a class but a wonderful read that will make you not only think about history but reflect on the pandemic of today.

What’s your favorite movie that you saw in theatres this year?

…

Top Gun Maverick…I went and saw it three times with three different friend groups.

What do you usually wear?

Ah, well, the winter fit is usually sweatpants of some kind coupled with any random assortment of t-shirts, both short- or long-sleeved, then some kind of hoodie or jacket. I’ve been trying to break in a leather jacket though so that I can paint it! That thing is far comfier than it should be.

How tall are you?

5’ 5” or about 165 cm.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

I am a Cancer. I don’t really believe in astrology, but I know far too much about it because of friends. They tell me I am a “classic Cancer,” and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. And I do! June 21. I share a birthday with Chris Pratt and the U.S. Constitution. It’s also the day the Sox pitcher Rube Foster no-hit the Yankees 2-0 at Fenway in 1916. Make of those what you please.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

I go by my nickname Jill, or Grem/Gremlin online. Call me whatever the hell you want though, I’ll reply regardless.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

I wanted to be so many things as a kid. Astronaut, microbiologist, paleontologist, a whole plethora of other things… As long as it had to do with using my hands for something and getting to learn and sate my obnoxious curiosity, I would be happy. Doing archaeology checks all those boxes, so I can’t be mad! I’m a recent convert to anthropology and I love it. Learning more each day just makes me love how diverse the Earth and its inhabitants are. I’m a filthy optimist, okay?

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Single and vibing.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I don’t think I’m much good at anything, but I guess I can draw! Would love to be better at writing.

Dogs or cats?

Don’t make me choose.

What’s something you would like to create content for?

To keep it in the scope of Hetalia, I would like to continue the historical fic I started writing centered around the American Revolution, as (early) American history is my secondary study. But I’m not confident in my skills enough to continue it. Forget posting it anywhere. But I had a prologue, first chapter, and second chapter in different states of completion before putting it down.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Cold War-era armor.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

My grades. [rimshot and laugh track plays]

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I don’t think being ADHD-fueled human encyclopedia counts so…I can write with my toes. I can sing and play euphonium, too, I guess! Idk guys fr

Are you religious?

Not particularly. I am a very lazy pagan, at the very least.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

All my friends and mutuals with their fine asses right in front of me so that I can give them all ginormous, lung-squeezing, spine-cracking hugs. Y’all need to stop being gorgeous double-cheeked-up baddies on this Tuesday evening.

I’m nominating @sunnysssol @ironicorange @cicadatalia @magictrio1118 @sunnylolli @modernday-jay @abbittheturtle because you are all wonderful and are either close beloveds or super chill!

[sitp-recs]

Hi I hope you’re having a great day! I’m kind of new to reading fic, I only really know AO3 😅 I was wondering if you knew any good drarry fic from other sites too?

Hi anon! Unfortunately I don’t keep track of other platforms, I got too used to AO3’s layout and reading any other format gives me a bad headaches these days lol.

I do check fics on LJ as a last resort but most of them have also been uploaded on AO3 by the authors themselves or by fandom archivists. I hope my followers can share some recs!