#shameless self rec

[princessbubblenumbsblog]

Hi again, so the second chapter! I hope y'all like this fluff. I gave my best on this chapter, however this is my first fic and english is not my first language, so apologies if anything sounds confusing, and please let me know in the comments. Again, any spanish spoken will be translated in the end, so don't worry ;)

Title: One And The Opposite

Rating: Teens and Up (swearing, mentions of sex)

Summary: After filling the shoes of his alternate self in a parallel universe, Miguel O'Hara swiftly discovers that embodying a different version of himself is far more challenging than he initially anticipated. As he juggles with the complexities of family dynamics, with a wife and daughter who both expect him to be the man they remember, he tries to stay afloat, grappling with the pros and cons of navigating two lives simultaneously.

OR

A domestic Miguel trying his best.

Chapter 2: Sweet reunion

"Gordo, eres tú? Ya llegué!" he hears a voice shout from down the hallway, as the door slams shut, followed by the loud noise of keys rattling and plastic bags crinkling.

Miguel turns around to look at her for the first time, and it's nothing like he thought it would be, to say the least. He imagines it’s like if he were living life immersed in tiger illustrations, and then got to see the real thing for the very first time. It feels like he’s standing in the presence of a real tiger, with its raw power, the rhythmic pulse of its fur, and the untamed wilderness echoing in its eyes. His breath catches as he steps back to really look at her in awe.

Moving through the kitchen in a busy sway, she goes about putting the groceries away, all the while speaking almost too fast to understand like every Spanish speaker ever. It’s as if she hasn't even spotted him there yet — so comfortable with his presence. 

"... Tu hermano no deja de llamarme, deberías ver qué quiere. Ah, y el 'forecast' del tiempo dice que el aire será irrespirable por unas horas, así que recuerda cuando te dirijas a... estas bien?" She asks, getting on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss.

As much as he tries not to, Miguel is startled by the sudden contact, and it must show on his face because she notices too.

"Que te pasa, mi amor?" She asks, a look of confusion in her face that makes her look even more beautiful.

"I uh... I... Just got robbed." He blurts out. 

Even after a day of practicing his Spanish accent, English still instinctively surfaces as his immediate response — it's become much more natural than his native language at this point. The perplexity in her eyes immediately turns into worry as she puts a hand on his face and examines him up and down.

"Are you ok? Did they hurt you!?" She thankfully also speaks English, although with a slight accent that Miguel can’t quite figure out where it’s from. 

"No, no, yo estoy bien. I'm fine just... A little shaken. He had a gun." He answers, gently holding her hand back.

She stares at him, a twinge of shock coloring her features, then looks down at his hand. He gets worried for a second that even though his talons are concealed, something else might be giving him away. Something he doesn’t know about. He can't help the way his heart must be beating a mile a minute, threatening to jump out of his chest.

"Well, you're safe now, okay? Don't worry about it too much." The way she casually utters it confirms for him that this sort of thing happens frequently here. She only smiles sympathetically at him, not even asking what they took — if anything.

He sighs in relief as she says that, and smiles back, taking the chance to get a good look at her face. 

Brown eyes like his, a few moles here and there. Worry lines between her brows that paint a picture of a woman who hasn't had everything handed to her, or the easiest life. He can't help but think he chose well. 

"Listen, I can go pick up Briella, you stay here and I'll-" she says, swiftly turning around to grab her keys.

"No, no, it's okay, I can do it. It's fine." He quickly insists, knowing he has to use every opportunity to get to know his family, and his alternate version better. 

"Okay. Pero ten cuidado mi amor." She warns, placing another kiss on his lips.

*

He gets there early, watching from his car as some parents start making their way towards the entrance. While he contemplates waiting inside the front office — an idea that might be a bit excessive, though it would allow him to catch an earlier glimpse of Gabriella — staying in the car seems neglectful at best. So he settles on waiting near the front of the school until the bell rings.

When it finally does, a crowd of kids emerges from the building, and with them a cacophony of screams and voices as he nervously shifts his weight around, willing himself to stay calm while trying to spot his daughter in the crowd.

“¿Apá?” She asks, right next to him . Miguel looks down at her, startled. 

He must have been so distracted looking through hundreds of faces, that he didn’t even notice her coming up to him. It doesn’t help that she’s tiny, barely reaching past his hips, and the school uniform makes her blend right in with the navy blue crowd.

“Oh hi there! You scared me!” He tells her with a laugh, trying to play it off.

Gabriella blinks at him. “You didn’t wait in the car this time.” 

Uh oh. Is that bad? Maybe she was embarrassed of leaving with her father, maybe the kids would make fun of her for it now. He quickly scans the surroundings, seeing not that many kids leaving with their parents.

“Uh… Right. Well, I wanted to walk with you, if that’s ok…” He explains, fighting the urge to lean down so she doesn’t feel as small to him.

Thankfully she just shrugs, and turns to leave after he offers to carry her backpack for her. They start walking in silence, with Miguel more afraid of being found out than he was earlier, with her mother.

It’s silly, really: She’s a child, barely nine years old. However, his mind keeps racing trying to figure out what to say, what to ask that’s not going to give him away immediately, while at the same time reassuring himself that it’s okay, that she doesn’t know yet.

“So… How was school?” He asks, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“It was alright.” She answers dryly, staring at the floor as she walks.

“Soo was it alright as in boring, or…?” He risks the question, wanting to know more about her day.

She seems pensive for a moment, considering him. “It’s just that the boys keep making fun of me and Isa again. Even Sam joined in, and he doesn't even play soccer!” She frowns, continuing. “They keep saying we’re never gonna play like Messi Jr because we’re girls.” 

He can feel his fists closing into tight balls when she says that. He knows first hand just how insufferable boys her age could get, especially dealing with Kron and all the hell he’d put him through at school, but he also knows that when it comes to girls they act ten times worse. 

So even though he has no idea who ‘Messi Jr’ is, he figures instead of speaking out of anger and cursing the hell out of these boys, he should at least try and help her with her insecurities instead. 

“Why are you worried about being exactly like Messi Jr when you can be so much better than him?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

She keeps silent for a moment, seeming hesitant. “Really? You think so?” 

“Of course I do! You’re great!” He answers honestly. 

Miguel remembers watching her play a little fútbol prior to coming here. He had been surprised to find out how good she played for her age before…  

Suddenly, he’s almost overwhelmed by the thought of what would have happened to her had he not been here. He has a vision of this lovely little girl he just met being thrusted into a childhood filled with grief. 

No paternal figure there for her. A perpetual sadness that got particularly worse on every father’s day, an endless list of things he would never get to teach her. A constant wondering of what it could have been, what would have been like to have him there. 

He can’t help but feel glad that he could take his place. That he could be there for her in this way and fill this void. It’s an impossible responsibility, yet one he’s happy to take nonetheless. 

Shaking his thoughts away, he continues. “And besides, it’s like you said, right? What does Sam know about soccer, he doesn’t even play! Also, there are some great women players around the world too.” He smiles with a sudden enjoyment, excited to play this role the best way he knew how to.

Gabriella looks like she notices his thrilled state, eyeing him sideways with a curious look. “I know, I know. It’s just that it annoys me, you know?” she says, back to looking pensive. 

“Yeah, that’s… True. And the more it annoys you, the more they do it…” He admits, more to himself than her.

Miguel didn’t want to be a walking cliché. He didn’t have much advice to give her, besides things he really wanted to say but couldn’t. Like: She’s a lovely little girl, that he’s glad to be here for her and she’s actually so much more than he ever imagined, that she could be anything she put her mind to, and already he couldn't think of a single thing he wouldn’t do if she asked him to. No, that would be too much in too little time. Instead, he had to go with what was appropriate.

“You know, you’re gonna find people like that everywhere you go. I have people I don’t like at work, too. The thing is how you deal with them. But don't worry, you’ll learn that with time. it’s not like there’s a recipe for it, you know?” He tells her.

She keeps quiet for a moment, listening to him. Was that also too much?

But then she just nods in understanding as he opens the door of the car for her to get in.

*

“Not again, Gabriella. Again!?”

“¿Qué?” Gabriella asks, rubbing her feet on a rug by the entrance of the apartment when the both of them come in.

“¿Cuántas veces te he dicho para no jugar fútbol con el uniforme? ¡Mírate! ¡Estás cubierta de pasto!” María raises her voice, pointing to her daughter's legs.

“But mooom! It was just a quick cascarita! And I’m not even that dirty!” Gabriella insists, gesturing towards her white socks, which funny enough are covered in green and brown spots, especially by the knees.

“¿A quién estás llamando 'mooom'? Anda, take it off and give it here.” She orders after letting out a breath. 

“Sí mamá.” Says Briella, pouting and dragging her feet to her room, looking annoyed.

Miguel also drags his feet by the threshold, setting his keys on a hook next to the door. He takes off his boots, eyeing the three pairs of slippers nearby. Hesitantly, he puts one of them on, the irony in the mundane gesture settling heavy in his chest, the weight of deception tugging annoyingly at his conscience.

Since he’s already taken a quick look around the place before she arrived from work, he gets to inspect things a little closer this time around.

The entryway is adorned with sleek porcelain tiles that extend seamlessly into the living space. A smart home system panel mounted on the wall offers control over lighting, temperature, and security, right next to the hook where he hung his keys. To the side, there’s a wall-mounted shelf holding a curated display of art and what looks to be some personal mementos. 

A water bill sits on top of it, the sight striking an odd chord — in a time where holographic displays and digital transactions were the norm, a paper bill practically seems like a relic from another time — but also allowing him to find out her full name, which he immediately commits to memory.

“I think she thinks the socks make her look more like a professional player.” María tells him a while later, while slicing some meat by the sink. “We should buy her a pair of those so she stops ruining her uniform.” 

He nods in agreement, putting a plate down as he lets the reality sink in, that this is really happening. This is his life now. 

He’s married, he has a beautiful wife, and he’s also father to a beautiful little girl. And he couldn't be happier. Couldn’t have asked for anything else in life. 

It’s like he just woke up from a bad dream, straight into the life he’s always wanted to live.

Like he’s exactly where he belongs. 

So he helps María with the food. Luckily, he must be incompetent at the kitchen in every universe, because her instructions are extremely detailed, as they prepare carne a la tampiqueña for three.

María yells for Gabriella to come, and they all eat in silence after joining hands around the table for a quick, silent prayer. 

*

Later, María is washing the socks while he cleans the table, and Maná plays in the background. She grooves with the rhythm, singing and humming now and then, completely oblivious to it all.

Objectively, he knows that he’s hiding a lot from her, but his heart can’t help but ache a little at how she’s not intimidated at all by his presence, in fact, she’s used to it. For once, he doesn’t feel like a freak or a monster the way he inadvertently does among the other spiders. 

She spots him there, lost in thought as he finishes up, and says “I heard they’re reconstructing his larynx.” 

“What?” He’s pulled from his thoughts by the weird phrase.

“Maná. The vocalist, I heard they’re reconstructing his larynx to help the A.I replicate his voice better. Can you believe that!?” She explains “That’s why I’m listening to their original songs, I heard it on the news today.”

He blinks slowly, trying to figure out if he’s supposed to be used to things like these. “That’s… Crazy, honestly.”

“Right? I mean, the fact that we aren’t able to tell the difference for most artists nowadays is already pretty insane to me, and now they’re reconstructing the larynx of a dead guy to make a robot replicate his voice better? Come on now!” She remarks, turning back to look at him.

“I know, it’s so wild to think about.” He says, taking the chance to look around the room. 

Sleek countertops adorned in marble, bearing the scars of a few culinary adventures that her and his alternate self probably didn’t have the time to clean yet; Rectangular windows above the kitchen sink, lined with cheap plastic containers labeled “basil”, “rosemary” and a few other herbs, bringing a nice green contrast to the brushed metal accents; A smart fridge on the corner, adorned with Gabriella’s drawings held by magnets all throughout it. Some things never change.

He approaches the fridge, taking one of the drawings to inspect it closer. It’s a crudely drawn version of him… His alternate self, with exaggerated triangular shoulders and, most tellingly, what looks like a phone buzzing in his hand.

María seems to notice his curiosity, approaching to look at the drawing too.

“Listen I know, you must be still a little shaken from… Before,” She tells him carefully “Just… Try not to think too much about it, okay? You’re here, you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

He puts the drawing back as she places a cold hand on his face again, gently willing him to meet her eyes. 

“I know, I know. It’s just… I was afraid for a second, that’s all.” He says, sincere in his words but not the real meaning behind them.

“And that’s okay. I’m here.” She assures him, pulling him by the arm gently.

The low hum of the city outside is a distant lullaby as they settle into the living room.

She takes a bottle from on top of a cabinet, wordlessly pouring two cups. He takes a sip, letting the burning soothe his nerves.

"I didn’t think I'd make it back." He lies, gaze lingering on the symmetrical floor panels.

Her hand finds his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You did, and you're here now."

“Yeah… I am.” An inward glow softing his expression, the sensation of a smile blooming from deep within as he stares into her eyes.

As the night unfolds, the room is filled with shared glances and unspoken understanding. María lays her head on his shoulder, caressing him. 

And he can’t help but think that this could work. 

This could really work.

*

When they go to bed, after making sure Briella did her homework and wishing her goodnight of course, María takes off her bra in front of him, and slips on a loose nightgown.

He hates that for so many things that he had considered before coming here, this hadn’t even crossed his mind at all. Hesitantly, he pulls off his own clothes, not able to help how flushed red his face must be. 

Thankfully, María doesn’t seem to notice this, as she’s busy settling into bed and pulling the sheets towards herself. He sits besides her underneath them, awkwardly stiff, and she pulls him into a sideways hug, humming quietly. 

"You seem so different today." She observes, fingers lightly tracing circles on the sheets next to him.

He freezes, eyes widening but trying not to look at her.

"Yeah… It's been a long day.” He says, clearing his throat. “I'm just tired, that’s all. Besides, I gotta wake up early tomorrow. You know how it is, work.” He explains, thinking it’s a good enough excuse.

She turns to fully look at him, blinking in amusement. “It’s friday. Did you forget?” 

He closes his eyes. Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, right. I meant workout, you know? Gym? I just need some rest.” He corrects, pulling away from her a little and cursing himself inwardly for talking so much.

She seems to get the message, recoiling as well.

“You and your Gym. Should at least try eating those packed proteins just like everyone else.” She tells him, turning her back to him, reaching for the light switch on her side of the bed and then finally lying back down.

"Well, you know how I am," He says, turning off his side of the bed lamp as well but still remaining upright. She hums in agreement.

“Goodnight?” He asks, reluctantly.

“Goodnight.” She replies, sounding already half asleep.

*

"Gordo, eres tú? Ya llegué!” = Fatty is that you? I’ve arrived! 

(Keep in mind that ‘gordo’ is a wholesome way to call someone in spanish, and doesn’t mean she actually thinks he’s fat nor that she is body shaming Miguel).

"... Tu hermano no deja de llamarme, deberías ver qué quiere. Ah, y el 'forecast' del tiempo dice que el aire será irrespirable por unas horas, así que recuerda cuando te dirijas a… estas bien?”

=

“... Your brother won’t stop calling me, you should see what he wants. Ah, and the weather forecast says the air will be unbreathable for a few hours, so remember that when you’re heading to… Are you ok?”

"Que te pasa, mi amor?” = “What’s up with you, my love?”

“Estoy bien” = “I’m fine”

"Okay. Pero ten cuidado mi amor.” = “Okay, but be careful my love.”

“¿Apá?” = “Dad?”

“¿Qué?” = “What?”

“¿Cuántas veces te he dicho para no jugar fútbol con el uniforme? ¡Mírate! ¡Estás cubierta de pasto!” = “How many times have I told you to not play soccer with your uniform? Look at you! You’re covered in grass!”

Cascarita = an informal, purely friendly soccer match in Mexico. The equivalent for a ‘pelada’ in Brazilian Portuguese, although if you search for the term, make sure to include the word ‘futebol’ after it, as ‘pelada’ on its own simply means ‘naked’ haha

“¿A quién estás llamando 'mooom'? Anda [...]” = “Who are you calling ‘mooom’? Come on [...]”

“Sí mamá.” = “yes mom.” 

Carne a la tampiqueña = a traditional mexican meat dish

Lyla, play Mi religión by Maná :) Also you can read it on ao3

[juniperika]

Do you like the fake dating trope? Do you think Anakin needed an example of a healthy relationship? And some therapy?

Well, in this fic, Cody and Obi-Wan take it upon themselves to be that example. Without being smitten with each other, of course. A series of misunderstandings, featuring lots of paperflimsiwork, supportive brothers, and two idiots who are surprisingly oblivious when it comes to feelings.

I am more or less coping rn, but I probably won't write anything for a while. Check this out in the meantime!

[constantcrisis19]

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Category: Gen

Relationships: Merle Dixon & Child OFC , Daryl Dixon & Child OFC

Chapters: 10/?

Summary:

Riley was in the middle of setting the candles up in strategic places around the trailer and lighting them when a banging started up on her back door, the brunette flinching so hard that she dropped her zippo lighter before pivoting to eye the curtain-covered sliding door with trepidation. Though, the knocking didn’t stop, instead the pounding seemed to become more frantic the longer that she hesitated to approach.

She pocketed her lighter and crept over to the door, moving the cloth out of the way just enough to peek outside. And there, on the concrete slab that made up the sitting area, was Merle Dixon.

[motherbearof03]

I was looking back at some old things and came across this little one shot and remembered how much I loved it and wanted to share for people who may not have read it.

[anauro]

Lily and Pandora take their daughter Luna on holiday, where Luna has her accidental magic incident.

[turanga4]

Been a Hot Minute since I flogged this fic, and it came up for me as I re-read the Department of Mysteries chapter in Order of the Phoenix and participated in most excellent Discord discussion.

Ginny POV of the whole thing.

[slim-jims-in-this-shit-hole]

❆ welcome to the twenty-five days of kinkmas: gallavich edition! ❆

- - - - -

day twenty: rewards for good behavior by @gallawitchxx

↳ rated E / one-shot / 1.4k / parolee au / dom/sub under & overtones

“Too bad,” Milkovich said, his scent of cigarettes and soap wafting egregiously into Ian’s space, and filling his mouth with spit. “I like what I see. Kinda wish I’d gotten to see you in cuffs, big guy.”

He was through the door and into the belly of the office before Ian’s brain came back online.

- - - - -

don't forget to leave kudos & comments when you read! xx

[other-cullen-ficrecs]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fenris/Justice (Dragon Age) Characters: Fenris (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Fenris (Dragon Age), Past Abuse, Spirits, Spirit Justice, Canon-Typical Violence, Knotting, AU in which Fenris didn't get help from Hawke, Rimming, Past Sexual Abuse, Mentions of Danarius - Freeform Summary:

Fenris wasn't able to find anyone to help him and had to take on the slavers himself. When he breaks into Danarius' mansion to fight his master it is filled with demons and traps, but it seems there's also some being helping him after all.

[jrooc]

Self Rec Saturday 🫣

Thanks for the tags you wonderful writers/artists & humans @mybrainismelted @juliakayyy @mmmichyyy @deedala @deathclassic @doshiart @energievie @doshiart

Fuck it, gonna say my first ever piece of fanfic Drunk Text. A short little one-shot hurt/comfort s3 fill-in that is riddled with typos but I still like it.

Summary: Mickey shows up to the Gallagher house drunk in the middle of the night needing a little TLC.

Special guest appearance from the backyard van.

Tagging @gallapiech @sgtmickeyslaughter @stocious @transmurderbug @heymrspatel @crestfallercanyon @rayrayor @ms-moonlight-inn @notherenewjersey @ian-galagher @bawlbrayker @heymacy @whatthebodygraspsnot @darlingian @gallawitchxx

[the-oaken-muse]

A Year in Fanfiction 2024

Hello everyone! It’s the start of a new year, and with that comes new year’s resolutions!

I personally want to try to read more this year, both published books as well as fanfic. I finally made a goodreads account to keep track of my books and wanted a way to track my fanfiction reading too, so with the help of @kinglazrus, King of Spreadsheets, I present to you A Year in Fanfiction 2024: a combination google form and spreadsheet!

All you have to do is fill out the form…

And it automatically adds a new line to the spreadsheet and tallies how many fics and words you’ve read!

There’s a space for the title, author, fandoms, summary, characters, pairings, tags, as well as personal notes and a link to the fic, so you can easily find what you’re looking for, whether you read it on AO3, FFN, or tumblr!

If you’re trying to read more this year, still working your way through all the fics from the last fandom event *cough* @ecto-implosion *cough* shameless plug *cough*, want to make your own AO3 Wrapped at the end of the year, or just think it’s neat 🥔

Click here to make a copy of the spreadsheet

Click here to make a copy of the form  

The form is optional if you’d rather manually input the information into the spreadsheet. Just make sure that you put “Finished” in the Reading Status column, or the formula won’t add it to your word count tally.

If you want to use the spreadsheet and the form, read below the cut for instructions on how to link them.

There doesn’t seem to be a simple way to share them already linked, and there are a few quirks with setting this up, but it’s not difficult.

Step 1: go to the Responses tab of the form and click Link to Sheets.

Step 2: Click Select existing spreadsheet and find the copy you saved of the A Year in Fanfiction spreadsheet.

Woohoo! They’re linked! Now this is where things get a little tedious.

You’ll find that you now have two tabs on your spreadsheet, one that has the pretty AO3-inspired formatting, and one that’s plain. The plain sheet is where the form sends your answers.

Alternate Step 2: Click Create a new spreadsheet, this way the plain sheet and the pretty sheet are separate documents.

Step 3: In the plain sheet, hide column A and delete the blank columns to the right.

Step 4: In the pretty sheet, click cell B1, hit ctrl+a, right click, and copy. Go to the plain sheet, click cell B1, hit ctrl+a, right click, and paste.

Step 5: Submit a test response on the form. If you are in edit mode for the form, click the eye symbol at the top to go into preview mode. Your response will appear on row 2 of the sheet.

Step 6: Select row 3 and drag it back to row 2, bumping your test row down. 

Step 7: Click cell B1, make sure the formula in orange says $B$3:$B. Repeat with cell C1; the orange formula here should read $M$3:$M and the one in purple should read $H$3:$H. This tells the sheet to start counting at row 3, your first row of fics!

Step 8: PROFIT!

Feel free to play around with it! Change the theme, the alternating colors, add new categories to the form, make it your own!

Happy New Year and happy reading! ♥️

[princessbubblenumbsblog]

Hi so the first chapter of this fic (which is the first one I've ever decided to post) is already on ao3, but I figured since I'm posting the second one I might as well post it here for those who don't wanna read it on ao3! Enjoy!

Title: One And The Opposite

Rating: Teens and Up (swearing, mentions of sex)

Summary: After filling the shoes of his alternate self in a parallel universe, Miguel O'Hara swiftly discovers that embodying a different version of himself is far more challenging than he initially anticipated. As he juggles with the complexities of family dynamics, with a wife and daughter who both expect him to be the man they remember, he tries to stay afloat, grappling with the pros and cons of navigating two lives simultaneously.

OR

A domestic Miguel trying his best.

Chapter 1: A new earth

Getting there was definitely the easy part.

Miguel, having now crossed the portal, found himself in a version of his own universe that felt both eerily familiar and distinctly different at the same time. The air crackled with an energy unique to this reality, and the surroundings hinted at subtle variations from the world he knew. 

The place smelled like blood, car fumes, and rain.

All there was left to do now was dispose of the body, which he quickly and painlessly did by sending it to a post apocalyptic earth where humans didn’t exist anymore, but not before searching him for all his belongings, and taking a last look at the dead stranger with his face who laid motionless on the floor.

Once that was done, he carefully examined the possessions he had salvaged. All of them served as a reminder of the life his alternate self had left behind, which he now would be occupying. 

A wallet with a photo of his daughter, a couple credit cards and all his documents. No money, which could suggest that currency might differ in this version of reality, a detail he filed away for later consideration. A set of keys with a keychain of a child’s drawing encased in clear resin, to protect it. 

It resonated with a heartfelt sentiment: He couldn't help but think about the child who had created that drawing. Her life, her experiences and her dreams so far. Briella.

And last but not least, His wedding ring, which thankfully fit him snugly. Commitment.

A tangible connection to his past and a reminder of the choices he had made. Miguel contemplated, for the nth time that day, the significance of his decision to enter this reality, wondering if it really offered a true escape, or a mere variation of the challenges he planned on leaving behind.

As Miguel began to scan his surroundings, he noticed subtle differences in the architecture, technology, and even the people bustling about outside the alley. Their clothes looked different from other earths, but not completely unlike his own to the point where he couldn’t blend in if he wanted to. 

He was used to crossing multiple universes on a daily basis. What he wasn’t used to, however, was having to accept the fact that he would be actively living in this one.

He also couldn't ignore the extremely likely possibility that his alternate self might have faced different challenges in the past, family or no family. And this knowledge only added layers of complexity to his quest for a fresh start.

Armed only with his memories, belongings, and the unique perspective of being himself in this alternate universe, he ventured forth into the unknown. The portal behind him closed, severing the connection to his original earth for good. 

Miguel embraced the uncertainty, a deep inhaling of this air bringing about a new kind of determination previously unknown to him.

And so, for the very first time, he grabbed his keys and went home.

Read it on ao3

[theroundbartable]

Just reread the court sorcerer by ...me. lmao.

Anyways, I had completely forgotten about Arthur's dream:

That night, Arthur had the strangest dream.

He was in a dark room. With no walls, no ceiling. Just a pitch black floor. Like ink, the surface waved with each step Arthur took and mirrored his own reflection in it's depth.

In the middle of the room stood Morgana. Surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of spheres. They were colored. Arthur barely recognized them.

Morgana was. She looked at him, her eyes a bright gold.

“Why now?”, she asked without an introduction. She didn't sound angry or mad. And Arthur knew this was about the laws. The magic ban.

“I'm sorry.”, Arthur looked down and watched her reflection on the ground.

“You could have saved me. I didn't have to leave, Arthur.”, she said.

Arthur turned around to look at the other side of the room. And blinked heavily. In front of him stood Merlin. Merlin looked back at him.

And then his eyes fell out of their sockets. They fell to the ground, bounced of the surface and settled as spheres around Morgana.

As Arthur turned around, he realized that all those spheres were looking at him.

He turned back to Merlin. His eyes regrew, only to fall out again. Like tears, they dropped to the floor.

And in the kind of logic that only makes sense within a dream, Arthur thought:

“Merlin can't see like that.”

So he went and picked up not two, not three, but hundreds of eyes.

They all vanished through his hands and fell into the deep, deep sea. The amount of eyes never really changed. But Arthur picked up more and more.

Some disappeared, others just sank beneath the surface.

“You betrayed me Arthur.”, Morgana said and as Arthur looked back at her, he saw a sword sticking from her chest. Arthur didn't know how it had gotten there. But when he looked behind her, he saw Merlin standing behind her. Blood on his hands, despite the fact that Morgana wasn't even bleeding.

She had blood on her hands too though. Arthur's own were also covered with the red substance.

And now he realized that the sea they were standing on, was in fact, a deep red.

The once blue black substance revealed itself to be blood red. And Morgana dissolved into the deep deep ocean made of blood. Her reflection disappeared with her and left only Merlin and Arthur.

Only her eyes remained where she had stood. So Arthur did the logical thing and picked them up.

Then Arthur walked forward and put them in to Merlin's surprised hands.

“You need them.”, Arthur explained. “To see.”, he stated dumbly.

Merlin's head turned to him and Arthur looked into empty sockets. Merlin made no attempt to put them in.

So Arthur took the eyes again and pushed them inside himself. Golden eyes stared at Arthur.

“Arthur-”, Merlin said, fondly, but confused. “They aren't yours to give.”

And then, the entire world swirled and Arthur was faced with hundreds and hundreds of people. They had no faces, but Arthur could tell they had no eyes as well.

Behind him, the spheres flashed golden.

[naranjapetrificada]

Hey! You there! Yes you, OFMD fic enjoyer!

Do you like tropes? Unusual AUs? Historical detail? Fictional quotes from historians as a framing device? The prospect of an accidentally revolutionary Stede Bonnet and Horse Girl/reluctant war hero Edward Teach? You might enjoy the longfic I'm working on, which I posted the first chapter of several days ago!

It's set in a world inspired by our ancient world, where Stede is a blue-blooded patrician from a Not-Roman Republic about to enter an arranged marriage with famed nomadic steppe warrior Ed, to end a war that's been going on between their people for over a century.

Stede is a wannabe polymath with "an ex-wife, two messed up kids, probably," and canon-typical daddy issues; Ed is a secret softie carrying the compounded burdens of his own reputation as a warrior and those of his father and grandmother, also with canon-typical daddy issues. Not to mention that *slaps roof* this fic can hold so many reflections on masculinity, clashing cultures, imperialism, trauma recovery, historiography, and what it means to leave a legacy.

I know WIPs are scary, but I love this world more than any other fictional world I've ever created (and speaking as an experienced tabletop DM that's saying something). If any of the above appealed to you at all, this fic is probably worth the risk.

[look-i-love-u]

Since I saw so many of you do this, I thought I'd throw my story into the mix too.

Red Hot

Written for the Gallavich Masquerade 2023/2024

Ian's workday has been shitty… but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

[bawlbrayker]

Self Rec Sunday (but a week late!)

Thanks to @rayrayor and @jrooc for the tag!

I have to say, my first fic will always be closest to my heart. It was challenging, to try to write one of the biggest Gallavich scenes ever. But with so much help, advice and encouragement from my dear friends, I was able to publish something that I am really proud of.

I wrote the Docks scene, from "Knew you'd come," to Ian slamming the van door the next morning.

Tagging @sweetperversiongirl, @ryantryinx, @sweetbee78, @em-harlsnow, @guinguin1984, @gembu-tortuesouscafeine, @twinklyylights, @deathclassic, @creepkinginc, @southsidestory, @whatthebodygraspsnot, @suzy-queued, @crossmydna, @gallabitch73, @ifallonblackdays and @captainjowl to play if you wish!

If you arent tagged, and wish you were, please play too! I'd love to know your fave work, so please tag me in your post!

[em-harlsnow]

self rec Sunday!

thank u to @bawlbrayker for tagging me

I have to say, my favourite one of my own fics has to be my first one as well. I thought about it for ages and I was honestly so scared to post it.

I'm not sure who to tag because I am DEAD tired from working a long shift and can't remember who has done this already. If you want me to tag u in future things I do, message me!

<3333