#7+2 fic

[noxsoulmate]

💞 Of Lizards, Love & Laundry 💞

🦎 Carlos Reyes and the Journey of Becoming a Lizard Papa 🦎

Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star Author: noxsoulmate | Artist: paxdracona Read on ao3 | View art on ao3

Chapters: 1-3/9 | Word Count: 4309 | Rating: Mature | Warnings/Tags: canon compliant, Lou II is the Houdini of Lizards, how Lou II makes his Papa love him, a story told in 7+2 parts, Carlos is so done, but TK knows how to condition his man, sex and spicy food, bribery, fluff, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, fluff and humor, Carlos loves TK, so he puts up with the reptile in their loft, until he starts to love the little monster as well

Inspired by @paxdracona's amazing art

Created for the @911reversebang

Summary:

“TK, your lizard got out. Again.”

Lou II might just be the Houdini of lizards, an escape artist par excellence – but he’s also TK’s emotional support lizard, so how could Carlos not start to like the little monster? It certainly has nothing to do with TK’s ways of bribery or attempts at conditioning him, and more with the fact that Lou II is just… growing on him. Even if that means loads and loads of extra laundry.

OR: Carlos Reyes and the Journey of Becoming a Lizard Papa, told in 7+2 parts

🦎 Read on ao3 🦎

💞 and please leave lots of love on the wonderful art on ao3 💞

I cannot thank @paxdracona enough for this wonderful collaboration 🥰 It started out as a simple "okay, I think I have enough ideas to make this a short 5+1 fic" and then became so much more, thanks to cute Bearded Dragon videos, funny Insta posts, lots of talking and laughing and plotting, and just the generally amazing art Pax created for every little snippet I sent her way. Pax, this was a delight and I would collaborate with you again each and every single time 🦎 (also, we should both adopt a beardie now...)

Sneak peek and more art under the cut:

one

Carlos will forever deny the high-pitched scream that leaves him the moment he opens the drawer to pull out a fresh pair of socks. What he won’t deny though, is the fact that his soul definitely left his body in that moment. 

He can already hear footsteps running towards the bedroom, his fiancé’s worried, “Babe?!?” echoing around the loft – and still, he can’t stop himself from putting his emotions into one frustrated yell of, “TK!!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” TK calls back, skidding to a halt in the doorway, using the door frame to stop his sprint. “What happened? What? Are you hurt?!”

Carlos tries not to explode at him, he truly does, so he simply glares at him with all the rage he feels and points to the drawer, pressing out through clenched teeth, “Your monster got free.”

TK, in all honesty, seems to light up as he steps over to the dresser and reaches into the drawer. “Oh, hey baby, hi. There you are. Hi.”

Something about that comment strikes Carlos as odd and he sucks in a deep breath, frustration rising, when he realizes what it is. “You knew he was out?”

At least TK has the decency to look sheepish while cradling the little monster to his chest. “He might’ve gotten away while I cleaned his terrarium earlier today.”

Carlos lets that information sink in for a moment, remembering how overly excited TK greeted him about half an hour ago when Carlos got home from his shift. How he seemed slightly breathless and waved it away as just being done with some workout but still had declined to share the shower with Carlos, claiming some tidying up he wanted to do.

That lying little… 

“And you didn’t tell me?” Carlos accuses to which TK almost reflexively replies, “I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“TK!”

And, yeah, that argument sounds eerily familiar.

Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to think about the fact that he walked around the loft – mainly the bathroom and bedroom – naked while this little monster was running around. Or, worse yet, getting all his germs over Carlos’ clothes.

He points a finger at TK, giving him his strongest Officer Reyes glare. “It’s your turn to do the laundry and every single one of my socks will be in that machine, do you hear me?”

“Of course,” TK promises right away. “I’ll just… wash everything in that dresser, okay?”

💞🦎 Continue on ao3 🦎💞

Noxy’s Tagging List:

@detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @actuallysara, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @welcometololaland, @wtfuckevenknows, @lightningboltreader, @meditating-honey-badger, @just-inside-her, @alidravana, @morganaspendragonss, @bonheur-cafe, @heartstringsduet, @ravens-words, @lire-casander, @otter-love-asl, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @buckybarnesalways, @mangacat201, @catanisspicy, @lemonlyman-dotcom

[kenneth-black]

Nothing to see here folks, just two husbands being proud and supportive of each other 🥹🥹🥹

[kald-dal-art]

Second compilation post of my latest victor art. These are a lot fun to draw and think out so appreciate all the feedback I have gotten for this series. We'll see if I end up making all 75 Victors or not ksdjhfa

Part 1 / Ko-Fi

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

[mamawasatesttube]

this might be mean but. it really ticks me off when people respond to authors and artists wishing for actual community and engagement with their works by saying "oh but you see im just so anxious i cannot offer you any kind words." with the optional "but do please keep making things for me anyway!" because like...

a) do you understand how anxiety-inducing it can be to pour a little piece of your soul into a work of art and share it publicly? i feel like you don't see the people creating these things as people like you and that is an issue. we are people who just really love a thing and want to talk about it with other people who also love that thing.

but moreover, and this is the part that might be mean, b) damn why doesn't your anxiety prevent you from making excuses to us then? i wish it did! like if you're SO anxious about a fic author blocking you for saying something nice, why are you not anxious about getting blocked for telling that author "okay but i don't want to comment on your works though"??? because i can tell you which of these two things is way more likely to piss me off and it isn't the comment.

like. idk man. if you really don't want to comment on and engage with people's creative works, no one can force you to. but also consider maybe not commenting on and engaging with those people's posts just to explain that you don't want to comment on/engage with their works. if you are so committed to staying quiet and being a passive consumer then commit to the bit and stop asking creative people who put way more of themselves out there than you are to pat you on the back and reassure you that you'll still keep getting free content even if you can't do so much as drop a "this was really good!" in the comments.

[stephcassweek]

Welcome!

This is the account running Stephcass week 2024, and I’m Zel! The week will run from the 28th of October to the 3rd of November, using the prompts below. Feel free to do as few or as many prompt as you would like, and post the work on the day of the prompt.

Prompts!

Monday 28th: Rooftop tag/sparring

Tuesday 29th: Alternate universes

Wednesday 30th: Panel redraw/canon compliant

Thursday 31st: On the case/undercover/Halloween

Friday 1st: Galas/wedding

Saturday 2nd: Civilians/Metas (superpowers)

Sunday 3rd: Childhood/monsters

Rules

1. No AI: this is a blanket ban and you will be blocked :)

2. No irrelevant submissions: the piece has to be Stephcass centric

3. Do your best to submit things on the correct day (this won’t be strict though)

4. Tag @stephcassweek and #stephcass week tag on your post so that this account can reblog it. For fic, post the link here on tumblr with these tags.

5. Don’t bash anyone’s creation (goes w/o saying)

Look through the tags of #arts and #fic to see creations! I will also tag reblogs with the day number so you can look through! Reblog this post to spread word etc! Have fun and good luck!!!

There is now a discord

[sunlitriddle]

On That Day, Five Years Ago

This is based on OG more than anything, using updated Remake visuals. But, since I haven't finished Rebirth, any spoilers are from the original game. I have no idea what shenanigans they have for the climax of part 2 and all of part 3.

I always loved Mideel and finding out the True Flashback of what actually happened in Nibel. This moment, where Cloud is Just a Guy filled with a righteous fury, he has the strength to wield the Buster Sword, avenge his hometown (including everyone who didn't think much of him) and kill* Sephiroth.

I wanted to contrast just how weak Cloud is, how average, how utterly human; and how heavy the Buster Sword is... and duty, and honor, and sacrifice, and all the other meanings it's accumulated through time. And somehow, he has the strength to wield it.

I also wanted to give a twisted, holy vibe to the Nibel Reactor, with bundled wires hung like a vaulted ceiling leading to the altar and the sarcophagus of a false god.

*death doesn't seem to inconvenience him much, let's be real.

[chaellooo]

Made an animatic based on a part from a garsako fanfic titled "Twisted Fate" by Tempest_Blue, on Chapter 5.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32245522/chapters/79918117

Based on this part:

Recommend 10/10!! AGH the writing pictures the scenarios so well I giggled alot. Imo it's THE garsako fanfic, perfect fic if you want to see some form of Ninjago prequel about the Elemental Alliance (the fic is the main reason Im begging for lego to make an Elemental Alliance origins spinoff series starring the ninjas' parents lol). Also. If you're a garmasimp, this fanfic's for you. He's SO flirty and fINEEE in this fic, and Misako?? What a baddie

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

[noxsoulmate]

💞 Of Lizards, Love & Laundry 💞

🦎 now complete 🦎

Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star Author: noxsoulmate | Artist: paxdracona Read on ao3 | View art on ao3

Chapters: 7-9/9 | Word Count: 4049 | Complete Word Count: 13826 | Rating: Mature | Warnings/Tags: canon compliant, Lou II is the Houdini of Lizards, how Lou II makes his Papa love him, a story told in 7+2 parts, Carlos is so done, but TK knows how to condition his man, sex and spicy food, bribery, fluff, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, fluff and humor, Carlos loves TK, so he puts up with the reptile in their loft, until he starts to love the little monster as well

Inspired by the amazing art of @paxdracona

Created for the @911reversebang

Summary:

“TK, your lizard got out. Again.”

Lou II might just be the Houdini of lizards, an escape artist par excellence – but he’s also TK’s emotional support lizard, so how could Carlos not start to like the little monster? It certainly has nothing to do with TK’s ways of bribery or attempts at conditioning him, and more with the fact that Lou II is just… growing on him. Even if that means loads and loads of extra laundry.

OR: Carlos Reyes and the Journey of Becoming a Lizard Papa, told in 7+2 parts

🦎 Read chapters 7 to 9 on ao3 🦎

🦎 or start at the beginning 🦎

💞 and please leave lots of love on the wonderful art on ao3 💞

💞 🦎 This fic is now complete 🦎💞

Once more I have to say the biggest thanks to @paxdracona 🥰 working with you was such a joy and I hope there are more projects in our future.

And of course, all my love to my wonderful readers - thank you so much for all your love, for all the kudos and your lovely comments, as well as all the reblogs here on tumblr. I'm so thrilled you loved this fic and the amazing art 😘

Sneak peek and more art under the cut:

seven

Household chores are always a tiring thing to handle but Carlos actually likes some of them. He’s weird like that, yes, but he knows it has to do with it being mostly mindless tasks that don’t require much thinking, and still you can see the result in the end. Plus, doing them together with TK always makes it that much better. They love to share kisses whenever they’re close, they brush each other when one passes the other, just smiling, exchanging wordless communication. It’s nice, it’s domestic, and Carlos knows he won’t mind doing any chores for the rest of his life as long as he can share it with TK.

It also helps that they both have their preferred chores and switch up those neither of them likes or both of them do. Laundry, for example, is part of the last category. Before moving together, Carlos would’ve never thought TK would like doing laundry as much as he does. But they both see it as a rather meditative task, one that can be done while sitting on the couch.

And yes, Carlos still uses the couch to sort all the dry laundry, even after the little Lou II incident the other week.

Besides, he has to admit he has definitely warmed up to the little rascal. He isn’t even surprised anymore to sometimes find him outside of the terrarium. TK offered to set up a camera so they could see how the trickster does it – but Carlos brushed it off. By now, he might even be okay with letting him run around the loft sometime. He found these little cat hammocks online after watching a video where a bearded dragon used it to chill in it…

Not that he’s ready to tell TK just yet. His fiancé is excited enough as is, seeing how their wedding is only a few days away. No, he will keep that revelational new status in Lou II and his relationship for a day where TK needs another pick-me-up…

Carlos is pulled from his thoughts when TK drops down on the couch next to him, looking at him with that look. The look that tells Carlos right away that TK did something he thinks he’ll get in trouble for unless his puppy eyes will get him out of it.

“Oh no,” Carlos murmurs, staring at his fiancé. “What did you do?”

“So… remember a few weeks ago when Lou II got free while I cleaned his terrarium?”

Carlos looks past him and sees it right away, the open glass case and the cleaning supplies. All he does is sigh and look back at TK, who truly looks sheepish now.

“Remember how I promised I would tell you right away if it happened again? Well…”

💞🦎 Continue on ao3 🦎💞

Noxy’s Tagging List:

@detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @actuallysara, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @welcometololaland, @wtfuckevenknows, @lightningboltreader, @meditating-honey-badger, @just-inside-her, @alidravana, @morganaspendragonss, @bonheur-cafe, @heartstringsduet, @ravens-words, @lire-casander, @otter-love-asl, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @buckybarnesalways, @mangacat201, @catanisspicy, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @a-kinkajou, @juuls

[dekubreaksbones]

Post-canon Shigaraki Tomura fic recs

Japan v. Shigaraki (2237) SCOJ No. 4401 by anubisisms

Shigaraki's trial, through social media, newspapers, and texting applications.

The More Things Change by LandofWordsandNonsense (Lieutenant_Nonsense)

Second in a series, and not focused on Shigaraki. Check out the first fic first.

Natshig [Natsuo X Shigaraki]

The Todoroki In-Laws by aphrodaisyacs

Natsuo and Shigaraki match on a dating app, 10 years after Jakku and 7 months after Shigaraki was let out of prison on parole.

Househusband Simulator by aphrodaisyacs

A regular day in the life of Shimura Tenko, Natsuo's househusband.

i'm not tryna be with you, now (but i could be your crush) by constellore

Natsuo flirts with barista Shigaraki to piss off his brother, but manages to get himself a real date.

[kald-dal-art]

Doodles based on the last chapter of my first Quarter Quell fic, this one is definitely one of my fave chapters so far, so was very inspired to draw stuff based on it haha

Here is a link to the fic if it interest you ( X )

[nenyabusiness]

oblivia

Pairing: Saurondriel/Haladriel Rating: E Words: 6k Summary: Once, she promises herself. Just once. Or, Galadriel has a visitor in her dream. Read on AO3

Excerpt: “It’s tearing you apart, isn’t it?” he says. “Fearing me. Wanting me. Hating me. Lo—”

“Don’t,” she warns, she pleads, her voice cracking.

“I know your mind. I feel your pain.” He strokes her cheek with his thumb. “I could help you, if you’d let me.”

She lets out a strangled noise; not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. “Help me? Was ruining me once not enough for you?”

“Ruining you?” He gives her an incredulous look. “You are not ruined, Galadriel. You still shine just as brightly as the first moment I laid eyes on you. I’m talking about this.” His knuckles trace her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, continuing past the neckline of her dress. His palm comes to a rest at the center of her aching chest. “This, I can help you with.”

The warmth of his hand seeps through the thin fabric. She doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, but she knows her body is betraying anyway. She can’t stop the violent beating of her heart.

“No one would have to know,” he says, a perfect echo of the whispers in her mind. “This place is ours. The past, the future—none of it matters here. Just the present, and what we choose to do with it. Your mind brought you here for a reason. Why do you think that is?”

Galadriel looks up at the tree crowns above her. The forest is not a forest. He created a convincing façade for her, but that’s all it is—a façade, hiding something too abstract and too complex for her to comprehend. It didn’t summon her. He didn’t summon her. She came here willingly, her subconsciousness seeking out what her waking mind could not.

A break.

“I know what you want, and so do you.” He leans closer, going in for the kill. “Indulge yourself.”

[themidnightguardian]

Day 2: Trust Issues -- Naruto & Kakashi

gen | slight AU taking place the day of team assignments | Warnings: childhood neglect & trauma, mentioned attempted child murder, (justified?) paranoia & trust issues

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

---

Naruto didn’t care much for the sensei Team 7 had been assigned. The lateness was one thing—annoying, but bearable—but there was something shifty about him that raised all kinds of red flags in Naruto’s mind. The mask, the fake-ass eye-crinkle, the utter bullshit he’d spewed about his “likes, dislikes, and dreams.”

Naruto used to think anyone with a Konoha headband could be trusted—at least to an extent. Maybe they didn’t like him, because no one liked Naruto, and maybe they wouldn’t go out of their way to help him, but he used to think, at the very least, that Konoha shinobi were safe. Pretty stupidly trusting of him, in hindsight, but he’d never had reason to think otherwise.

Until Mizuki-sensei tricked him into stealing the scroll of forbidden jutsus, and then tried to kill him. It was a floodgate of bullshit coming out all at once, because he’d learned about the kyuubi, learned that was the reason most of the adults in the village couldn’t stand him—why people trashed his apartment and called him names in the street and refused to sell to him.

There was a pang of betrayal whenever he thought about the Hokage now, too. For so long, Hokage-Jiji was the only one Naruto could rely on, the only person he’d ever felt was looking out for him. Naruto couldn’t decide between being grateful, or feeling hurt—because it had never been about Naruto, but the kyuubi. And the Hokage had hidden so much from him, Naruto wasn’t sure if anything he said was true. Or if it was just more lies stacked on top of each other.

No, the only person in the world he knew he could trust without hesitation now was Iruka-sensei, because he had proved he was on Naruto’s side. Because you didn’t take a fuma shuriken to the back for someone you didn’t like at least a little.

But Hatake was an unknown, and that meant Naruto had to be careful.

So when Hatake ordered them all to share their own likes, dislikes, and dreams, Naruto rambled some nonsense that sounded enough like the truth that no one would call him on it, and enough of a lie that it couldn’t be used against him.

And when Hatake told them there would be a survival test in the morning, Naruto couldn’t help but think of Mizuki-sensei’s “special test” and felt some mix of exhaustion and dread and resignation sink into his bones.

Sasuke and Sakura left the moment Hatake dismissed them, but Naruto stayed behind. He could make himself anxious waiting for the other shoe to drop, or—

Or he could just do it himself.

“Are you going to try to kill me, too?” Naruto asked, blunt enough that it actually made Hatake rear back, actually made something like panic crack the otherwise impenetrable blank mask he’d been putting up the whole time.

“What?” he croaked out.

“Like that bastard, Mizuki. ‘Cause if you are, let’s just get it over with now. There’s no need to drag Sakura-chan or Sasuke-teme into it.”

Sasuke might be an arrogant jackass, and Sakura was as mean as she was pretty, but Naruto wouldn’t put either of them in danger. He wouldn’t let either of them get hurt just because they had the misfortune of being on the same team as him.

Naruto ignored the tremble of his hands by clenching them into fists, ignored the faint wobble of his lip by baring his teeth. He was a real shinobi now, and real shinobi weren’t afraid.

Except Hatake was a real shinobi—a jounin, even—and he had gone white as a ghost. “No. Naruto, no. I—fuck. No. I’m not going to—” He took a shuddering breath. “That’s not going to happen.”

Naruto just narrowed his eyes. Hatake sounded sincere—sounded shaken—but Naruto had been wrong about people before.

Still, there had been plenty of opportunity for him to attack, and he hadn’t taken it. Maybe Hatake was the type to play the long game? That seemed…like a huge waste of time, if Naruto was being honest, but he’d have to be vigilant, just in case.

“Sure,” Naruto said, relaxing a little, but not fully.

If anything, Hatake’s expression cracked further, but he nodded and, without another word, disappeared in a swirl of leaves.

Naruto waited to make sure he was truly alone before he slumped back down on the roof. So his new sensei was harder to read than anyone else Naruto had ever met. He sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

I’ll just have to get stronger, then.

[daemyra-fire]

• Episode 7• Season 2

In this chapter Daemon appears little but the protagonism of Rhaenyra and everything she did in this chapter is fantastic and the end is a gem, with all the dragons behind showing their power Aemond was incredible.

There are almost no daemon gifs in this chapter, it's a shame