#weird ao3 fics

[bravo4iscool]

i’m a big SEAL Team fan, like- a big one but i can’t with these ao3 fanfics😭💀

LIKE WHY ARE PEOPLE SHIPPING EMMA AND CLAY??? or jason and clay😭??

why are there mandy/jason/brock fics, im so confused rn, pLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME????

the one that threw me off the most was trent/clay tho😭. BRO TRENT AND BROCK HAVE LITTLE TO NO SCREEN TIME. WHERE DO Y’ALL TAKE THOSE SHIPS FROM😭?????

[tadfools]

You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?

You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on chapter at three am is right?? Right????

You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?

[arggghhhsstuff]

forever obsessed with percy being weird. off-putting. strange even. a cryptid maybe. an urban legend if I may. my boy is the son of one of the oldest, most powerful gods, has been in FBI's records since the age of twelve, fought and won two wars against immortal beings, went to hell and back. I think he's allowed to be a little odd.

[dufrau]

COMMENT ON OLD FICS, I BEG YOU!

I swear to god after like a week people will still be reading but nobody leaves comments anymore and I just want to make it absolutely clear that I would be excited and elated to get a comment on these fics one hundred years after I post them.

A FIC IS NEVER TOO OLD TO LEAVE A NICE COMMENT ON. GO FORTH AND COMMENT!

[feelingthedisaster]

being in the supernatural fandom is so funny. there are pages-long essays about characterization, metaphors and picture. there is a lot of crack. the fandom is divided whether you ship world's biggest age gap or incest. one of the main actors has an ao3 account and has probably read the fanfiction. another one of the main cast made his own fanfaction and turn it into a tv show. your favourite characters dies, you laugh bc it wont last, the stay dead for a little bit too long and you start to get worry, they get resurrected and damn, these writers dont know when to stop, its the third time they died and came back, fucking commit to it. we all hate the writers and producers. literally invented queerbait and we all fell for it. a random character from a totally unrelated show is canon bisexual and wow, we are trending. you want to defend your fav character and your main obstacle is your fav character (you gaslight yourself into "all fault is on the writers not my baby"). we out-trended the us elections and contine to trend on every anniversary of that day. we discuss which season is the best like they arent a recycled plot we already seen. the show was meant appel to conservaties and the fandom is made of gay people somehow. the main characters are alcoholic murderers that do extremely questionable stuff every season and we love them for it. someone outside the spn fandom finds out you are in and they look at you like you are insane and you cant even blame them.

[pussyeater8000]

For the tmnt fans that need to hear this 👍

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[secondbeatsongs]

when you're into the Big Ship™ in a Big Fandom™, you have the luxury of having an OTP - a real One True Pairing, where you can read about just them for ages, and you will never run out of fics, and everything is perfect and beautiful and nothing hurts

but when you go to a smaller fandom, you'd better pray to whatever god you worship that someone else in this room ships the same thing that you do, and that if they do, they're writing more than late-night crackfic, because you're on thin fucking ice!

and how small is your small fandom? is it less than 100 fics? maybe even...less than 20 fics?

welp, then it's time to make peace with that god and either open up a text document or learn how to ship everything, because it's swim or drown babey! and your ship is sinking fast

anyway all of this is to say that after hanging out in small fandoms and shipping less-common pairings for a while, going back into a Big Huge Fandom™ is wild because suddenly it's like...wait, why didn't I ship these people again? I don't remember. why was I only sticking to one ship in this fandom?? boring of me, honestly. these guys should make out.

[randomrangerwhite]

Hey, Dunmeshi Ao3 writers. Especially the Labru/Laichuk/Mithbru writers.

You do know you DON'T have to tag Marcille/Falin in the relationship tags of your fics?

Especially if your story is mostly just center on Laois/Kabru or Laios/Chilchuk or etc. If the girls are just mentioned to be dating or something and not even remotely really part of the story you really don't have to clutter up the Marcille/Falin tags with the fic if it's not about them.

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

[mooblybloom]

I want more unintentionally mysterious Danny fics because I love the fics where he's just kind of like a janitor on the JL Space Center that no one seems to know anything about except for like one person.

And it's not Bruce, it's so much funnier when it's not Bruce or alternatively it's both Bruce and someone you wouldn't expect like Shazam and the more Danny speaks the more the Collective JL members are terrified of him

[instantpansies]

NEXT CHAPTER BAYBEE!!

enemies to lovers angst hurt no comfort 200k hellsite hall of fame x perry the platypus continues in the next exciting installment!! (i did the thing and made the pov shift as awkward and discordant as possible!! wahoo!)

(i added a bunch of iconic post references too! try to spot them all!)

@hellsite-hall-of-fame @hellsite-hall-of-girlfriend @hellsite-hungergames

[kurtsascot]

Ugh, As If!

read klueless, a klaine!clueless au, on ao3!!!!

HQ Version of Cover Art ; Art Ref Image

Summary: It’s 1995. Kurt’s a senior at McKinley High, and he’s looking to lose his virginity and get his love life in order before he goes off to college.

Unfortunately, Blaine, the pretentious son of Burt’s ex-wife, is in Lima to intern for Burt’s congressional reelection campaign, and Kurt is stuck dealing with him until the election is over.

Art: alice / @warblercore @mistyintherivers

Rating: M*

Key Tags: enemies to lovers, but its more like, oblivious idiots to lovers, kurt’s more oblivious than blaine, romcom shenanigans, 90s slang, humor, virginity, falling in love, forced proximity, first time*, pining, hurt/comfort, fluff, slowburn, kind of ?, internalized homophobia, period appropriate homophobia but like…as little as possible, klaine endgame

Soundtrack (updated as chapters go live)

closeups under the read more !!

[pdalicedraws]

It’s definitely just because he needs it.

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[missmisnomer]

When I tell you the absolute STRANGLEHOLD this fic has had on my throat for the past week! If you're looking for a longer story in the RotTMNT universe, steeped in elements of psychological horror and suspense, that explores the concept of The Boys being weapons engineered for war and what that could mean for their relationships with each other as well as their own sense of self, this is the fic for you!

What are you waiting for, go read The Lemonade Leak on AO3!!

I am genuinely obsessed with all of the imagery and mood you've been able to capture, so here's a treat for @turtleinsoup that's a little experimental. I had so much fun playing around with the colors and composition, hope you like!

I drank the lemonade man, it is living rent free in my brain 24/7. 🍋