#I am new to AO3

[lilyosamu]

Okay i created an account on AO3, Now i just need fanfiction to read...

Can someone be nice and give me some good fanfiction for me to read pleease?

I am not too picky

The fandoms i am active:

BSD

Marvel

Star Wars

Honkai Impact

Genshin Impact

Obey Me

The last of Us

Hunter × Hunter

Avatar the last airbender

Guns girl z

(i like crossovers like: harry potter × Dazai, or Genshin × Honkai)

Fandoms that i am only semi active, maybe it will change later:

MHA

Demon Slayer (sorry but I finish the manga years ago, i don't have the hip anymore but it's still a very good story to talk about over tea with someone)

[composeregg]

Pspspsps ohhh you wanna be a tag wrangler so bad recruitment is open

[muffinlance]

Hey fic rec time! I didn't do these often so you KNOW it's good

If you like Star Wars and Mandos and falling in love with character dynamics you'll never be able to find again because OP just smooshed together things that never existed before

May I introduce you to:

Mando'jekai jedi by Anonymous

Yes Anonymous come out here OP so I can put you in a little jar and provide you optimal writing enrichment and maybe shake you a little to see how you work

Author Summary:

Feemor saves a random Mandalorian and earns himself the position of Jedi watchman for the sector. Now if only the mandos would stop hunting him so that he can investigate this terrorist cell in peace.

Jaster really wants to talk to the jedi who slapped the darksaber into his hands before running off. Now if only the haat'ade could track him down.

My Summary:

Feemor Gives Mandalorians a Life-Changing Field Trip (No They Cannot Exit This Ride): The Fic

The writing is so smooth the humor is HIGH-LARIOUS the angst is wrapped up in the humor which is wrapped up in outsider POV

It's like you went to Fic Restaurant and the waiter slapped the menu out of your hand and said "I've got the good shit" and you were too terrified to protest that actually you were just here for a little hurt/comfort fix-it fic but when they came back

Oh damn

Oh that is the good shit

Anyway click this it's the good shit

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

The first chapter of my sci-fi dystopian Team Rancher au, Finality’s Fault, is here! I worked really hard on this first chapter and am very proud of it, so comments and rbs (feedback in general) would be greatly welcomed!

Also, asks are always open if you wanna ask me about it, theorize, or just chat in general :)

[lunar-years]

How it feels to still be blogging about Ted Lasso in this day and age

[yukipri]

lmao of course now i try to update fic, and AO3 is down😂💀

Override chapter finally done with editing, it'll go up whenever the site's back🙃

AO3's status:

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 5

Part 1 Part 4

Eddie’s filled a shitty back-to-school backpack with anything useful he can find. There’s more wet wipes, and gauze, antiseptic, and a hammer. He’s got a lighter, a few newspapers, and a few shitty plastic cups. In a fit of whimsy, he stuffs a pack of playing cards in there as well. 

They go.

Hawkins is bigger than he remembers. Eddie’s not sure if it’s just the fatigue, the general atmosphere of this place, or it’s just another fucked-up thing that’s just a little off about this place. Hawkins, but not.

And god, he didn’t ever think he’d be homesick for Hawkins. His trailer, sure. Wayne, of course. But Hawkins? No way.

But he’s pretty sure he’d give his left kidney to be walking down 2nd street with all its residences clutching their pearls and crossing the street to avoid him. 

The street stretches out before him unnaturally. It’s quiet. There’s ash in Harrington’s hair where he walks by his side. Eddie’s never felt more out of place in his life.

“Do you think we’ll make it back?” he whispers. It’s so quiet, it feels like his words bounce across the town, anyway.

Harrington’s gait stutters. It could be from his fucked up feet. Eddie doesn’t think so. His brows pinched, lips pursed, skin golden under its ashen sheen.

“Someone will have noticed us missing by now, right?” He doesn’t sound sure. Eddie can’t fathom why.

“It’s…Sunday, Right?” Eddie asks, not waiting for an answer before continuing, “I’m supposed to be at band practice. The guys will notice.”

Harrington nods, starts walking again. 

“What about you?” Eddie asks.

Harrington’s eyes are shifting back and forth like he’s watching the ghosts of the real world in this fucked up mirror dimension. Hell, maybe he can. 

“Nancy noticed,” he says, quiet enough that Eddie barely picks up on it. He’s looking down at his feet and he looks small. Unsure. Before he looks up at Eddie from the corner of his eye. “Right?”

Eddie looks at this guy he’s hated for years, this guys who Eddie’s sure didn’t even notice him enough to hate him back, and says the only thing he can, “Right.”

“She’s smart.”

“Wheeler seems like a baddess,” Eddie says, even though she doesn’t. It makes Harrington smile down at his borrowed shoes. 

Eddie reaches out, squeezing lightly at Harrington’s elbow in comfort before skipping a few steps ahead, feeling his ears burn red. Harrington jogs to catch back up. They walk in silence after that.

The walk down the winding path surrounding the quarry is harrowing. It’s long, sure, but the way the red sky is reflecting back off the water’s surface has his gut sinking into his boots and weighing his feet down. It doesn’t look promising.

It looks even less promising up close. But beggars can’t be choosers, and Eddie feels one second away from falling to his knees and begging to a deity he doesn’t believe in.

He pulls out one of the stupid plastic cups, toes of his boots dipping into the red water as he bends over the reservoir and fills the cup, handing it to Harrington. Might as well take advantage of his tagalong jock test dummy,, and all that. 

Harrington grabs it from him, staring down at it dubiously. He tips it sideways, eyeing the liquid speculatively as it pours out of the cup and onto the concrete at his feet. 

It’s hard to tell if it’s actually red, even watching it drip onto the ground. The light’s too fucked, but it’s at least transulscent. It’s not blood, or at least not only blood. Eddie’s more concerned about the ash mixed in, to be honest.

Harrington’s still staring down at the remains of his cup like he’s not sure what to do with it. 

“Don’t drink that,” Eddie says.

Harrington doesn’t reply, but he can feel him watching as Eddie digs through his bag, pulling out a drugstore T-shirt and the second cup. He snatches Harringtons cup from his fingers, puts the T-shirt overtop, and then puts the other cup on top of that, before flipping the cups quickly.

Some of the liquid splashes out as it pours into the second cup, but most of it makes it to its rightful destination. Eddie pulls the T-shirt away and eyes the cup. He pours it out again, humming in pleasure and there’s no ash floating in the puddle at his feet.

A glance in the original cup makes him gag. Harrington siddles up to peer over his shoulder at the congealed black sludge left at the bottom, smeared with ash and dirt.

“I’m glad I didn’t drink that,” Harrington says.

Eddie laughs, handing the remnants of the second cup back over to Harrington. The look in the other boy’s eyes tells Eddie he knows he’s the guinea pig in this arrangement, but he gamely takes a sip. Eddie holds his breath when Harrington makes a disgusted face, but when he doesn’t keel over and die, he takes another sip. 

“Tastes like shit,” Harrington says, downing the rest. 

When Eddie filters the next cup, he can’t help but agree. It tastes like too-strong coffee mixed with blood, and Eddie’s never liked coffee. 

“How’d you learn to do this?” Harrington asks as the squat next to each other, Eddie filtering water, and Harrington filling the water bottles they’d collected from Melvald’s.

“I didn’t,” Eddie says, wringing the T-shirt out. When Harrington scoffs, he continues. “I just read about it in a book one time, and thought maybe it’d work.”

Harrington snorts. It sounds like a pig. Eddie hates himself for finding it endearing.

“You’re such a nerd,” he says, nudging his shoulder into Eddie’s. From his crouched position, Eddie almost goes tumbling into the water, but Harrington snags his shoulder and yanks him abc, laughing all the while.

“Fuck off, man,” he says, but it lacks its usual heat. 

It’s hard to completely hate a guy who dragged you bodily out of a window and away from your untimely demise. It’s hard, but damn if Eddie’s not going to try.

They fill the water bottles. It takes longer than it should, as Eddie tries to find clean enough spot on the T-shirt to make filtering the water any more even possible, but they manage.

Eddie doesn’t put the soiled garment in his backpack before slinging it onto his shoulders. It’s heavier now, but something in him eases with the time they’ve gained with the water. Days of survival has now stretched out to weeks.

He thinks of that Thing again and wonders if that’s a good thing at all. With the way Harrington is grimacing as he slings his own pack onto his shoulders, he’s having similarly grim thoughts.

They both stare up at the steep path they’d come down, hours before.

“What now?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs, and starts trekking back up the hill. Without any better ideas, Eddie follows.

Part 6

[sad-leon]

GO READ GHOST IN THE SHELL IF YOU HAVENT

IM SOBBING

ON THE FLOOR

IN SHAMBLES

HERE IS THE LINK

@amevello-blue

I cannot put into words how much I love Ghost and Leo's dynamic

[bright-and-burning]

begging hands knees please

(oscar piastri/lando norris, explicit, 2.0k)

Lando slides in, slow, steady, insistent, and pauses. He leans forward, covering Oscar with his body. Presses a soft kiss over the hickey on Oscar’s shoulder, and wraps his hand around Oscar’s left wrist. His right hand is left free, and yet it’s just as useless. Lando squeezes down, just slightly— And freezes.

aka is anyone else insane about this picture or is it just me. aka let that man get railed 2k24

[woods-and-adlers-left-hand-dude]

I NEED FALLOUT 4 MODS FOR BUILDING STUFF PLEASEEEEEEE,

I played fallout ages ago and I'm playing through it again and I just want to make my own little houses and stuff in settlements so I can bring the companies back to it(mostly Hancock and valantine) like different walls and stuff or door frames and floors,so please surgest mods and there names for xbox in the comments

[carlyraejepsans]

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumble of annoyance. For a second, the red glow in their eye grew faint. "Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you an ache in the neck." It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

Sans wakes up late into the night and sees something he shouldn't have.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 1: what's lost can be found

"She won't make a sound, alone in this fight with herself and the fears whispering if she stands she'll fall down. She wants to be found, the only way out is through everything she's running from wants to give up and lie down. So stand in the rain, stand your ground. Stand up when it's all crashing down. You stand through the pain, you won't drown. And one day, what's lost can be found."  -Stand in the Rain by Superchick

Regent Masterlist Part 2

The decayed ghost siren echoed through the abandoned streets of Amity Park's Witching Hours. Its residents were well acquainted with what that sound meant, fear and exasperation a potent (strange) mix to keep them tucked in their homes, their beds, as the Fentonworks building seemed to come alive.  

Of course, figuratively speaking. 

(Nothing was truly alive there anymore.)

Jasmine Fenton had just arrived back from the Infinite Realms, muscles pleasantly sore from training with Pandora and very much looking forward to hugging her little brother before he begun his nightly patrol. The siren caught her attention before she’d stepped fully out of her portal, dread filling her gut like a rock dropped into a lake. 

Oh no. 

Team Phantom were young, no one could ever argue that, with some scars to show for all their battles to protect Amity from those that would claim their haunt- but no one outside the team understood just how paranoid they’d become since Pariah Dark and Dark Dan

The contingencies had begun when Jazz started to remember bits and pieces of a timeline that Danny himself had erased using the reality gauntlet. He’d never told anyone of what had happened, with Freakshow’s plan to make himself ‘ringmaster of all reality’ and all, but Jazz had somehow recalled flashes of sheer panic at watching her little brother accidentally reveal himself as Phantom on live tv, in the Fentonworks kitchen on that little box set. The white rings of light that emerged from his core to switch from half-alive to half-dead and vice versa damned him. 

The elder fentons had gone on the offense immediately, Jack’s screech of ghost! Echoing in the house and they raced down to the lab to get whatever latest weapon they’d built to capture Phantom. 

It didn’t matter that their son was dead, that he had died, that their ‘greatest work’ was Danny’s grave. That Jasmine was…well, she wasn’t entirely human anymore, not when she turned on her heel to follow her progenitors down down down into the darkness, sword tightly grasped in hand as her teal eyes glowed a sickly green.  

She hadn’t hesitated then, to protect her little brother. One slash, two, three

Danny hadn’t known she killed their parents in that timeline. She would never tell him. 

She would never tell him how they hadn’t even noticed her presence, her ever loyal weapon Faithkeeper about to take their lives, how she hadn’t even needed to summon her armor. She would never tell him how they begged for their lives, not to protect their children, but to kill the ghostly menace. 

Danny never knew she’d dumped their corpses in the landfill.

(Right where they belonged.) 

WIth the rewrite of the timeline, reset to the same day of the ill-fated Humpty Dumpty concert, Jack and Maddy Fenton’s deaths were undone, but not the blood on Jasmine’s hands. 

With Danny’s defeat of Pariah Dark, came another revelation. 

Jasmine was still mostly alive. Somehow she’d survived her childhood, but Danny hadn’t. She’d looked away for five minutes, forgotten to lock the lab after their parents left and he’d died for it. 

With the weight of being schrodinger’s hero, could her little brother withstand becoming king of the infinite realms? 

Perhaps not while he was still learning, still gaining his own grip on his strange existence. In time, he would become a great king- one of mercy and benevolence, but he still had a long ways to go. 

Jasmine had borrowed ancient ghost law books from Ghostwriter and locked herself away for three days, cycling between crying for her and Danny, reading through the complicated laws of ye olden times, and writing down her findings- just in case another reality rewrite was due. 

Jasmine had accepted Regency on Danny’s behalf with a grace she didn’t know she possessed. 

It had been a small ceremony, with Danny and his friends present and Pandora, Jasmine’s mentor, acting as sentry as she accepted the Crown of Fire. She knew it was a long road till she could pass it down to its rightful owner, but Jasmine was prepared to shoulder the burden for her little brother. 

Pandora had simply laid one of her many hands on Jasmine’s shoulder with a solemn air, in understanding. There was work to be done before any of them could have peace. (Not even the afterlife was safe from paperwork.)

Her favorite journal contained the scraps of her hope and dreams bound in maroon leather, soft with age and imprinted with every emotion Jazz had unwittingly (and later knowingly) poured into every word. 

Its pages were a kaleidoscope of her life. 

Sure, it began with the soft tinge of curiosity-exasperation-fondness, some sentiment of better times before her progenitors began working on that damned portal, constructing the future grave of their son without the slightest clue. 

The emotions began turning a darker turn when the work turned into an obsession. Jazz had plunged into her schoolwork and part-time jobs to afford whatever was needed for the siblings to survive, fondness becoming slowly poisoned by anger. Anger for the portal. Anger for the food other kids had, that they didn’t have to work so hard for. Anger that she knew what starving felt like. 

Anger that she was so weak. 

Then the day of Danny’s death. 

The darkest part of her history, the last embers of her hopes and dreams, of the siblings escaping smothered. Danny’s death scream forever etched into her brain. 

(It should’ve been her.) 

She hated those pages of her journal, the emotions of grief-anger on her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to rip them out. No more than she could destroy the confessions of protect-rage-grief, the confessions of the darker timeline she shouldn’t remember. 

On very last page was the contingency plan Jazz herself had created.

Code Graverobber.

That siren wasn’t any ordinary ghost siren, no, it was the one Tucker had programmed himself- it was the quickest way to alert every member of Team Phantom and Tucker had made sure that none of them could mistake it for a Fenton ghost alarm. No, Code Graverobber was in effect. 

Phantom had been captured by the elder Fentons. 

(Fate has a way of setting itself right.) (Death wants its due.) With a bleeding, sobbing and vivisected Danny cradled in her arms, Jazz left Amity Park behind for what she prayed to the Ancients was forever. The Fentons died that night, though the official records would claim they were killed in a explosion due to the highly unstable inventions they created, taking the lives of their children as well. No one really dug around in the wreckage of Fentonworks, not for the bodies of the family within, with the chance of another explosion happening should rubble be shifted the wrong way. 

Jack and Maddie Fenton died.. 

But Jasmine and Danny Nightingale lived on, in Gotham City.

The last of those three days she spent locked in her room, Jasmine wrote a letter to a future version of herself, tucked inside one of her favorite books now lost in the destruction of Fentonworks. To my future self, Forget me in your happiness.    Love, your past

A/N: BEHOLD!

Ahem. This is the original chapter 1 that I never finished or published. It's not my favorite or my best, but I unburied it for the 300 milestones. Thanks for reading!

[skippingseaglass]

if drawing silly goobers was a profession that paid i'd be racking it IN bay bee

[luckyartdrawer]

"You'll save me, right Starshine???"

Close ups, Commentary, & Spoilers (In that order) below the break

Increasingly closer Sun oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Friendship with photoshop is over. Krita is my best friend now. (Seriously it feels 10x harder to draw in photoshop even though it has more quality of life stuff.)

PAINTERLY SHADING YEAHHHHHH

I wish I only had to do the coloring and shading/lighting on Sun. It was so fun but I am terrible with backgrounds...

Also, I know Star is my ANE blorbo, but I keep shying away from drawing/rendering them. I have started a sketch sesh to make a sheet for them, but it's a bit hard to dedicate to a specific design when its all up to you. o3o (I haven't drawn a legitimate OC in agesssss.)

Spoiler:

I couldn't help but draw this scene from ch 28. of my story ANE. I adore an unhinged Sun AND I TOOK TOO LONG TO GET TO IT. I had to draw it - It won't get out of my head!!!

Ik the chapter doesn't explicitly say what the scene looked like, but when y'all see the other perspective next chapter, just think about this. :)

[passionartx]

Tails when I start thinking about my fic, au and art ideas I’ve had lingering in my brain for years but almost all of them involve making him sad ^

Sorry little buddy <\3 😔

[darthraydor]