#i won't be posting this on AO3 just on here

[go-learn-esperanto]

Hey what do the new ao3 rules mean? Like what changed? I know this stuff is probably pretty simple to understand but I have a hard time wrapping my head around legal stuff and I figured it's better to ask

I'll try giving an easy summary of the new Ao3 TOS for you:

All the types of fics that were allowed before are still allowed. No changes there, only rewording.

Restructuring of TOS. Basically they divided it into 3 parts so it's easier for the users to look up something they want to check on. There was also a part that was moved to somewhere else. The information is still there just not on the TOS, because the committee believed it didn't belong in the TOS.

They tried to make the language easier to understand.

They made the Abuse Policy more generalised aka now the AO3 Policy & Abuse committee can more freely decide how to deal with TOS violations.

The "underage" tag is named "underage sex" now so it can be clearer.

They clarified that it's prohibited to use any Ao3 content for commercial use, and they specified scrapping for later commercial use aka "Fuck You AI Scrapping".

I'm obsessed with the fact that they state in the changes that now that they don't warn people that there may be works on Ao3 with bad spelling and grammar, and that on the FAQ they now include a question saying something saying "there's not grammatical or spelling standards". They really said "You are legally allowed to write horrendously, without shame. We won't tell on you." LOL

All other small changes are to do with very minutes changes on how the Board of directors Vote or that single cases of Ao3 TOS abuse are now not voted on by all the PAC volunteers because it's impractical with the amount of users and cases they get. Now they have a line of work and ban decisions are required to go through multiple people.

The reality is that not much has changed and most of the new TOS is only rewording and clarifications. Internal changes in the way Ao3 operates are really just so things can be done more efficiently considering the millions of users Ao3 has.

They also specify that they haven't added specific bans on having fics made with AI/having AI help on the website however that if a fic is found to be too similar to another work, writing wise, than can be a plagerism or copywrite violation.

Here's the official post detailing all the changes in TOS

[midnight-mourning]

Better Strangers. (Unless?)

Well it took a bit more time than I expected, wonder why THAT is (side eyes the wizard that put a curse on me, currently tied up in the corner) but it's here now, so I hope you enjoy! She's long, and I had to cut some stuff because it wasn't working, but such is life

If you've never read Confused Spirit, this will make a lot less since to you lol, so I recommend reading it first (though it's not a requirement). Again, this bad boy is canon to the story, but will never be directly mentioned in it

Word count: 7500

Song rec: Tommy's Party - Peach Pit (ignore the lyrics, it's the vibes that matter here)

Also posted on Ao3 if you prefer reading that way.

Content warning: Mentions of self-depreciation, self-gaslighting, depression, bits of yelling, etc. Small bits of using alcohol as a coping mechanism. Additionally, if you've never experienced what it's like to be anxious-drunk, you're in for it. Reader discretion is advised

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

"Okay, money's on the counter, Lisa needs to do her math homework before cartoons, and if you could do some flashcard practice with Gabe that would be super great but no worries if not, okay bye!" You say in a rush before opening and closing the front door. 

You lean back against it briefly, take a deep breath, and force yourself to march over to your car. 

It's your least favorite day of the quarter, second only to your least favorite day of the semester.

Parent-Teacher Conferences.

Comparable to Report-Review day at work, or tax season. The reason it was your second least favorite was because the other Parent-Teacher Conference day usually landed on a Friday, meaning you had one more night of the week you had to go out. 

This one was just a bit more bearable in that yeah, you had work afterward, but at least you could use all of tomorrow evening to recharge. And you certainly intended to. 

The school parking lot is filled with parents coming and going, chatting with those they know. You briefly greet anyone who says hello, but keep on your way, you want this to be quick, you've only got an hour or so before your late shift.

The meeting goes about how you'd expect, Lisa's the perfect little angel at school, it's just with you that she's a complete and utter menace. You'd considered the evening to likely being end on a high note based on this, but you'd be wrong. 

Very wrong. 

It's as you're walking out that you run into what would be your catalyst. 

"Oh, funny seeing you here, dear!" Helen says as she approaches. 

Inside you're saying every swear you can think of, outwardly you smile, "Hi Helen. It's parent-teacher night, of course I'd be here."

"I know, I know, merely joking." 

You stand there, awkward, head nodding once, "Well if that's all then I'll be on my way then-"

"Well it's just, how do I put this," She tutters, shaking her head, "I can't imagine what your meeting must've been like. And I won't speculate of course, I just want you to know that I'm thinking of you, is all."

Your brows furrow briefly, but you try to remain neutral. Chill, you're chill. You can kick Helen's ass in a fight if you wanted, it's fine. 

"The meeting went well, actually. Lisa's a good kid, I only stopped by because Mrs. Isley's been wanting brag on her in person."

This doesn't deter Helen, which you'd been, actually you can never tell what to expect with her. Doesn't matter, she keeps that sad look on her face, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, "Well, I wasn't sure if she was aware of the tumultuous situation with your family is all. It sounds like something that would greatly be affecting Lisa's performance. But I'm so glad to hear that's not the case."

"What, what do you mean?"

"Well, I ran into your aunt, Hannah's her name, right?" Helen tsks, "She told me all about your situation. Just awful to listen to, you know."

It occurs to you to glance over to where Helen came from, her typical group of parents she gossiped with. They're looking at you now, that same, bullshit look on their face. And you can just catch some of the things they say. 

"To think someone like that's taking care of Lisa."

"I know, could you imagine, being so cruel to your family?"

"Typical twenty something, has no regard for anyone but themself."

"It is selfish, isn't it? Their parents would be ashamed."

You freeze then, something in you shutting down. You don't know what to say, how to react, how to even, think, for a moment. 

This is possibly one of the worst case scenarios you could ever imagine. Helen knows an exceeding amount of information about you that you've done your best to hide for the sake of your siblings. Stuff that would otherwise be harmless, where you work, where Lisa goes to school, what daycare you use, etc. But could be incredibly dangerous when the wrong person find out about it. And at this point, you have no idea one way or the other if they have. 

Has Rick's family tried shit in the past? Of course. Have they ever taken it that far? Debatable. You'd done your best to keep your personal life unknown to them for a reason however. But did you really know what their limits were? You had absolutely no clue.

And that terrifies you.

And it's your fault in the first place.

"Are you alright?" Helen asks, in a tone that is so fake you swear you can taste plastic. 

You snap out of it. Not here, not now. Instead, you beam, "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

This throws her for a loop finally, "I, well I-"

"I appreciate all the concern, Helen, really, I do. But we're doing just fine," Your hand pats the one of your shoulder and she flinches back. Ironic, you know. 

You laugh, it's loud and fake as hell but it does what you need it to, "I don't know what you've been told, but let me assure you, there's a reason we're not on great terms. Didn't file that police report for nothing!"

At this, people start to turn towards you both, muttering quietly. Usually, such a thing would embarrass you. But you're channeling your rage to smother your panic. Your shame.

Hannah and the rest of Rick's family lives on the complete other side of the city. Helen would have had to go out of her way to manage to run into any one of them. And it sounds like she had. 

If you had to guess, it was probably incidental, you have no social media, they all do. All it would take is a bit of profile browsing to find the connection and if she ever came across any of them, could easily strike up a conversation. Still crazy, but slightly less crazy than other options.

"Is everything okay over here?" Looking to your side you see Mrs. Isley, glare on her face, pointed toward Helen, before sharing a concerned look briefly with you. 

You nod, "We're just fine, but I do have to get going now. Thanks for the, words of encouragement, Helen."

Her face has grown red, and can't even muster a response. Satisfied, you lean in as you pass her by, voice low, but still loud enough for the teacher behind you to overhear, "Hope you got what you wanted from that. Because next time, I won't be so nice and just say outright how the PTA president goes out of her way to find someone's toxic family members and delve into their personal life for no damn good reason."

You give her a rough pat on the back, and march out of there. Behind you, you can hear Mrs. Isley start to lay into the soccer mom who had so much free time on her hands to try and upset the 23 year old who, apparently, must be doing a better job at parenting than she was, as that what the only explanation you could come up with for her vendetta against you.

Once you make it out of the building is when you allow the facade to start to break down. You're panicked, you're freaking out. You're trying to determine if you're going to have to switch school districts now or what. You really don't want to uproot Lisa because of a mistake you made, which was believing that Helen Chase would mind her own damn business and-

Someone is calling after you. You look up from unlocking your car to see it's Mrs. Isley. 

You raise a hand as she makes it over to you, out of breath, "It's fine, Aubrey. Just the typical bs. I'm okay."

"I'm sure you are," She says, pointing back to the school and shaking her head, "But that, was unacceptable behavior on her part and I am not going to let it fly by, rest assured. She's the head of the PTA, she's well aware of the school's 'no-contact list'."

"I-"

She raises her hand now, "No. Not this time. I get it, you don't want to make waves. But this was too far, and it's not fair to you in any which way to just leave it lie. She will be reprimanded, and if anything happens because of it," She shakes her head, "Well, I'm not going to let it."

"Thanks," You manage to choke out. The stress and relief both getting to you in that moment, due in large part to her firmness on the matter. 

The teacher hugs you then, squeezing tight, "We have rules in place for this kind of stuff. And I'm sure once her husband hears wind of this he'll do his best to make sure nothing comes of it," She pulls back, hands on your cheeks, "Okay?"

You nod, hoping she can't see the tears pricking your eyes, "Okay."

Aubrey lets you go, "You're sure you're fine?"

"Yeah," You shake your head, "Just the words of someone who doesn't know how to mind their own business. I've had worse."

She nods, "Alright. Have a good night, and be safe."

You say goodbye and she walks off. You have to grip your wrist with your free hand to keep the one that's shaking steady enough to grab the door handle. 

You drive in silence to the Plex, both hands tight on the wheel. 

You're not going to let it get to you, you're not going to let it get to you, you know she's wrong, she's always wrong, she's just an asshole and you know that you're doing your best, you're doing great! Lisa's proof of that, Gabe's proof of that. You're fighting and you're trying, you're trying, you're trying-

The doors to the Daycare shut behind you, interrupting your thoughts. 

Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you look around for your beanbag, finding it absent. 

"What are you doing here?"

You turn, finding Sun cleaning up art supplies across the room. 

You shake your head, "Not in the mood for this tonight, Sun. If you didn't want me around you could've just said so."

His rays flick back and forth, "What are you talking about?"

"Uh, my beanbag?" You nod to the empty spot, not ignoring the confusion he also displays, "Not the end of the world, really, but still."

He just stares over at you. 

Then, "Bright Eyes, it's Friday."

Shit. It is Friday. You'd lost two days. Too caught up in work and stress and so on, to the point you'd hired Clara for the night and hadn't even realized. Not that it was her fault, she had no reason to question your foolishness. Your fault. Your mistake. Your fuck up. 

Like always.

"I, right, yeah."

"Now, as much as I'd be thrilled to continue to entertain you, I have a preparations to be making," He walks over and starts to guide you, not gently, towards the door, "You understand I'm sure."

You shrug him off, embarrassed, not helping your already growing negative feelings and thoughts, "Yeah, I got it. Night."

You walk out, a bit aimless now. You're frustrated, you're upset, and you really, really, are feeling a bit shitty. There's tears pricking your eyes again, and honestly, you don't know what you need right now to fix it.

"Boss? What are you doing here?"

You turn, "Pete? It's eight o' clock on a Friday, why aren't you home?"

He puts both hands on his chest, "I'm here for my best buddy Jacob's birthday. See the hat," He points to his head, where indeed, he's wearing a party hat, "Did you want to join?"

"I, you know what? Yeah. I would."

"Great! Come on," He slings an arm around your shoulder, changing your direction to the West Arcade, "Some of the gang's upstairs. Savannah was busy, and Jesse's out of town, like a loser, but you'll know most everyone I think."

"You're not going to question me anymore?" You ask. 

He shrugs, "Well no, not my business what you get up to. Unless you want it to be?"

You shake your head instantly, you didn't need to embarrass yourself by telling your coworker you let a middle-aged woman's words make you cry.

He nods, looking forward again, "Besides, you looked like you needed a distraction. For a bit anyway."

"Thanks, Petey," You sigh, "I do."

The atmosphere inside the West Arcade hits you instantly as you walk inside. 

People are chatting, dancing, drinking and making fools of themselves, what you'd typically expect from a Plex party. Or really, any party with a bunch of burnt out twenty-somethings. 

You meet up with Liv and Tyler, and are given a party hat and a drink shortly thereafter. 

You stare down at it for a moment, briefly, and check the time, you have Clara until 11:30, you can have one and sober up in time. 

You say the same thing after the second, and after the third argue that you can just, pick up your car tomorrow, grab an Uber. 

After, drink four, you take the time to sober up for just a moment, which ends up being a mistake. Because now you're alone with your thoughts, and after the night you've had, that's the worst place for you to be. 

The words said to you by a bunch of women in their 40s should not upset you like this, they're the ones choosing to pick on someone half their age. Sure, maybe they weren't wrong but that didn't, that didn't give them the right to talk like that, right? 

You weren't just thinking about yourself, right?

They wouldn't be disappointed in you for not trying to make ammends.

Right?

Fuck, you really should sober up, sober up and go home. 

"Hey, you alright?"

Liv's sitting next to you now. You give a practiced smile, "Just need a little more water. I'll be fine."

"You're sure?" She waves over the bartender to get you another water and order another drink for herself.

You nod, "Positive. If I wasn't I wouldn't be here."

Lying through your teeth is somehow so much easier when you're drunk. 

You drink another water, and don't feel any better. You just feel more, aware. Aware of how you don't fit in, how you're here because Pete took pity on you, how awful of a friend, a sibling, a daughter, a partner- No, not that last one, we're not getting into that mess tonight. 

Has it really been that long since the last time you drank this much? You check the time, it's been an hour or two. You still had time. Fuck it, have another drink and try to have some fun. Something's gotta distract you from this feeling eventually, right? 

When you check the clock again and realize it's 10:40, and it'll take at least twenty for an Uber to get here, you fumble for your phone and call Clara.

"Hey, I'm uh, gonna be home a bit later, is that okay?" You ask against the loudness of the room. You should have went outside instead of going to the quietest corner you could find, but you're kind of losing your logic. 

You have to strain to hear her response, "Yeah, not an issue, I'm mid breath of the wild playthrough so time has no meaning to me."

"You've got breath of the wild? Jealous," Focus, you need to focus so you don't sound stupid, "Anyway, I'm guessing another hour or so, and if it gets too late you can stay over so you're not driving home so late."

"As long as you don't mind me gaming in the living room into the late hours of the night that's cool with me. What are you up to out of curiosity?"

You swallow, "Birthday party."

"Oh, Jacob's yeah? Savannah told me about it but since I was busy I couldn't swing by."

"Oh?" Why does that make you feel bad? Why do you feel so excluded now? That your coworker's sister got an invite and you didn't? Or did you get an invite and you forgot? Why do you care? You're not friends with Jacob. You’re not friends with these people out of work, really. Right?

"-speaking class."

You don't know what she just said, "Gotcha, gotcha. Well, I'll see you later tonight then."

"You got a ride?" You can just make out her button-mashing, followed by a sigh, "Sorry, if you've been drinking I mean."

"Yeah, I'll be good. Thanks."

After hanging up, you just stare down at your drink, then out to the dancefloor. You see everyone having such a great time, so why can't you? Why do you have to be like this? Why can't you just let yourself be happy? What does it take to make you relax and just, chill the hell out? 

You haven't relaxed in months you realize. Not after what happened that night. Ironically, at the last Plex party you attended. If anything, you think being here, doing this, has just made everything that much worse. 

You need to get out of here. You need to go somewhere else, do something else, be someone else. 

Too bad you can't make that last one happen.

You finish your drink, and after a small head rush, walk over to where your friends? coworkers? are and say your goodbyes over the music. 

"Hey, it was really good seeing you tonight!" Pete says, then nods to where Jacob's at on the dancefloor, "Jacob appreciated it for sure."

He's lying. He's just being nice because you're his boss. 

Liv gives you a quick hug, "We should hang out outside of work more often. Maybe somewhere a bit more quiet."

She doesn't mean that. She's pitying you. 

"Yeah, that'd be great!" You smile. 

Tyler raises his fist and you bump it, "See you Monday, broski. Stay safe out there."

"Can do, have a good night guys."

"See you!" And "Be safe!" are shouted out behind you.

You believe the genuity of that. You may know that they hate you, but they're nice people. 

Your feet walk you in the direction you don't want to be heading. Split between this impulse decision and just going home. But you can't make yourself go home, you can't go home, home just remind you of everything, and everything you're not-

The Daycare doors feel heavier than usual, which makes sense considering how much you've had tonight. Inside, you find it's, pretty much the same as usual, you don't know what all the fuss was over on Sun's part. 

Speaking of, where is he? 

You shuffle in, taking note of the small plastic tea cups and saucers sitting on a table that's been moved to the center of the space. Along with... snacks? Right, Chica's supposed to be here. Seems she hasn't shown up just yet.

You're trying to remind yourself why you came here as opposed to calling for a ride, when you hear the doors open again. 

"Oh. You're back."

You turn, Sun is holding a tray with a teapot, and there is indeed, steam coming out of it. Now you know. 

"Did you want something or are you just here to bother me?" He swiftly walks past you, setting the pot and tray down with pointed showmanship.

Something about his tone sets you off. Not unusual. But because you're not sober, you speak your mind in a way you otherwise wouldn’t. Unfortunately unusual. 

"You know, starting to wonder that myself."

"Really now?" He speaks with a bored enthusiasm that grates on you.

"Yeah, really. You know, I don't sleep at night because of you," You shake your head, "My dreams are just, filled, with nothing but that night. Over and over again, it plays in my head. And you see, the worst part is that it's not even the idea of seeing him in that stupid machine. You know what keeps me up? You. And what you did to me," You take a deep breath, looking back to him, "And what I did to you." 

Sun's rays tick a few times. 

Then, "You're intoxicated."

"Yeah, no shit, glad you finally got up to speed."

"I'm just rather surprised you'd be interested in taking such risks again considering what happened to you last time."

You scoff, "Don't even try to pull that, I wasn't wasted, I had a concussion."

"I was referring to being at the Plex so late alone, Starshine," His gaze narrows, "But rest assured, you're increasing my concern the more you speak."

"Concern for what? Because we both know it isn't for me. And that's fine, shouldn't expect, don't deserve it. Even if I-" You stop yourself, you're not out of it enough for that, "I'll just give it to you straight; you have no reason to be concerned. For my siblings? They don't need me, Clara sees more of them than I do and she does a hell of a lot better job. My work? Someone else would fill the gap when I'm gone, my team's more than competent without me. My friends? They've got each other, or, or partners. And our little investigation? You," You slow down for a moment, "Well, I'm sure with that charming personality of yours you could trick another sorry sucker into helping you with ease."

You throw up your hands, laughing, "So, no need for concern here, Sunny. If something happens to me no one will notice!" Your face feels wet, "No one's going to fucking care. So, you can take your concern and shove it."

You bring a hand up to your face, confirming that you are crying, "Fuck, exactly what I needed to top off the night."

You sniff once, and then turn around, you seemed to get everything you'd wanted to say out of your system, maybe you can go home and be happy now. Or something. 

"Why did you come here tonight?"

You pause, then laugh quietly, hand coming up to run through your hair, "Hell if I know."

A hand is set on your shoulder, one that makes you spin around. The motion slightly jogs you.

Sun's gaze is down at you, rays spinning once or twice but otherwise motionless. 

"Stop that. I don't like being analyzed," You mutter, averting your eyes. 

His other hand comes up to guide your focus back to him, "You're in no condition to go anywhere. Not right now."

You manage a half-hearted chuckle, "Give me some credit, Sun. I'm calling an uber as soon as I'm out of here."

You think if he could frown he would, instead, his eyes narrow and grip tightens just a tad, "Not wise. Not if you're alone. I suppose there's other options. Hold still. And don't look down."

"What are you-hey hey hey, what are you doing?" You argue, anger flaring momentarily as he takes hold of you, your feet coming out from under you as he lifts you into his arms. 

Before you know it, you're up in the air, having to squeeze your eyes shut so you don't get dizzy from the change. You feel Sun land on solid ground again several seconds later.

"You say a word about anything and I'm putting you in the theater instead," A brief pause, "Or on a naptime mat down below."

You open your eye, "Wha-Oh."

"I mean it. Not. A. Word."

You put your hands up, "Okay, okay."

He didn't say anything about making private observations to yourself. 

The Attendant's room is somehow exactly what you expected and not at all. Your first thought is organized. Your second thought is empty. 

Clean also comes to mind, there's not a speck of dust in sight. You take note of the different standout features. An old, Hollywood style dresser with matching mirror and lights, string lights hang from the ceiling among the rafters. There's a set of cubbies containing spare toys, and some seemingly ongoing craft projects. 

You spy your bean bag in a corner with a few others. There's also a large pile of blankets and stuffed animals, almost like a bed. Lying nearby you see a charging port. 

The most interesting thing to you, however, is the green tube in the left wall, leading obviously to somewhere, you just don't know where exactly. 

You don't get to find out, Sun sets you down on the blanket pile, and if you weren't so hypervigilant you'd sink right in, exhaustion is starting to hit you after the combination of drinking, yelling, and crying. 

You hear a click and realize he's left the room. It's the perfect opportunity to snoop, but the desire for rest outweighs this urge. Besides, it's rude. And you're not that rude.

You feel like all you did was blink and he's back again. You rub your face and pat it a few times to try and wake up, glancing over to the bot.

"I've already taken the liberties of informing your babysitter that you will be home after several hours of sleep. And agreed upon compensation." Sun answers your look of concerned confusion by raising his hand with your phone, "You dropped it when I picked you up, she had asked about your well-being. You can check to confirm I did nothing else if that eases you."

The fact you can't recall that happening proves it's probably for the best he did that.

"God she's going to hate me," You groan, rubbing your face with both hands. 

Sun sets your phone down beside you, and sits down in front of you, glass of water in one hand, "She does not. Drink."

You eye the glass with suspicion.

"Are you seriously debating whether I've tampered with it?"

"Should I not?"

A scoff, "It's a glass of water, I've done nothing to it."

"Sound like something someone who did something to it would say," You muse.

Another scoff, and he leans down, rays clicking, "If I was going to do something, Bright Eyes, it would have already been done. And need I remind you, I can't cause harm even if I wanted to."

"Fine," You huff, taking the cup and muttering as you sip, "I'm surprised they let you have glass."

No answer. You look over, eyebrows raised. 

Then it clicks, "Ah. Contraband. Noted," You finish the glass and wipe your mouth, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

No words for a bit, your head hurts, but this helps. That might be a good thing to bring up, you're not a fan of this kind of silence.

"Why did you help me? Or I guess, why are you actively, helping me?"

Sun shrugs, hands clasped in his lap. You expected a snarked out comment that you're strangely not receiving.

Then, "I'll get you another glass. You should rest in the meantime." He stands up, and in your current state the action panics you. 

"Wait," You reach out, grabbing his arm, "Don't go. I'm, I don't want to be alone. Please." God, you sound pathetic.

You also realize what it is you're doing, and to whom, and you let go, "I, shit, sorry. Just, yeah just go get the water. I'll be fine."

You pull your knees up to your chest, controlling your breathing. You didn't need to start crying again. You're fine, you know you'll be fine.

A soft jingling sound interrupts your thoughts, and looking up you see Sun unwrapping one of the ribbons from his forearm, then his wrist. Once he's finished, the ribbon and bells piled in one hand, he holds it out to you. 

You furrow your brow, but take the offering. 

"It's the best way I can think of to assure you I'll be back. I'd look rather silly if I went around like this, right?" He waves both hands up by his face. 

You sniff, "Yeah."

"And if you're truly, concerned, just ring, and I'll be here," He stands straight again, taking the glass, "I'll just be a moment."

"Ok."

He leaves the room, and you're alone.

Having nothing better to do, you lean back against the numerous pillows and stuffed animals behind you, hands clasping and resting on your chest. 

You take note that the ceiling has a few glow in the dark stickers you recognize from the Daycare proper. Someone must've snatched the extras when they had the chance. The thought makes you laugh softly. 

It also occurs to you then that Moon is additionally assisting in this, mess, you've created, given that the theater is probably dark, and you don't believe that door leads anywhere else. 

You close your eyes, shame welling up in you. This is pathetic on your part. Truly and utterly. You're an adult, and you can't take care of yourself after a night of drinking? You can't manage to drink responsibly, avoid the typical stereotype and make a fool out of yourself saying shit you shouldn't? God, you're so-

You're being gently jostled awake, "You can't sleep like that, friend. You'll regret it." More quietly, "And he won't shut up about it, for that matter."

You open your eyes, they feel a tad heavy from the short nap you got. Your senses perk up however, when you smell something greasy yet heavenly. Pizza, currently in Sun's hand, soon to be in your stomach if you have anything to do with it.

"Thought you were just getting water," You say, as if you're not two seconds away from devouring that pizza whole. 

He scoffs lightly, setting the pizza in front of you and handing you the water, "I had a feeling if I told you what I was doing it would only make things worse."

"You'd be right," You take a brief drink of water, then open the pizza box and grab a slice. It's divine. And you don't say that lightly when it came to Fazbear pizza. 

You groan mid-bite, leaning back against the plushes behind you, "God, I wish you could taste how good this is right now. Like," You take another bite, "So frickin' good."

You're too focused on eating to overhear Sun laughing quietly at your antics. You managed to scoff down three slices before he takes it away from you. 

He places it over on the dresser, "You'll get sick. And preferably, I'd rather not be cleaning up vomit at 1 am, if it's all the same to you."

"Just one more! Come on," You whine, then pause, eyebrows shooting up, "Oh I am not sober, that's for sure."

You realize Sun's staring at you, and your face heats up.

"Don't look at me like that, it just makes it worse," Your hands come up and cover your face.

At that Sun laughs. And maybe you're a bit out of it, but it doesn't sound mocking, or pretentious. It's genuine. 

You feel a compulsion to right your wrongs from earlier, or at the very least, try to.

"I'm, I'm sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve that."

"I don't accept." Sun states. 

You cringe, and nod, "Fair."

He chuckles, "I don't accept, because it wasn't directed at me. You may have said those words at me, but I think we both know their true target."

You think for a moment, nodding solemnly, "Helen."

"Who? I-" He shakes his head, "Starlight, I meant yourself."

"Oh. That makes a bit more sense." You decide to give him a bit more context to save some trouble, "She runs the PTA. My third worst enemy, behind you, and Grab Ass. You got a Katie Chase in that little directory of yours?"

"Yes? But-oh. That one." 

Your brows raise for a moment, "Wow, I've never heard you speak with that much disdain before."

"We all have limits, friend," His tone shifts, like he's about to boil over with rage, "We all have limits..."

You yawn, and his attention shifts. He motions for you to take off your shoes and the likes, and you get the hint. You lay back into the bed-you're pretty sure there's a mattress buried under here somewhere, feels like it-letting loose another yawn.

Sun takes one of the blankets and tosses out over you, it falls slowly down on top of you. Then, he bends down and presses his smile to your forehead, pulling back after a moment and patting your head.

"What was that for?"

His rays spin, eyes widening a fraction. Seems he's just now realizing what he did, "An unfortunate matter of programming. One I'm hoping you'll forget by morning."

You scoff, smile on your lips, "That's not how being drunk works, you know. Only if you've drank a lot."

That seems to relax him.

"So explain it to me then," He sits at the end of the blanket pile, "I'm curious."

You sit up slightly to make eye contact with him, "Really? All the stuff you could learn about and that's what piques your interest?"

He nods.

You stare at him a moment, then lay back down, "I mean, alright. Do my best here."

You explain. Sun asks you a question every now and then. You just, talk. You talk to each other for, awhile it feels like. You talk until your throat starts to get sore. You, you haven't spoken with someone like this in a long time. Long enough you can't remember when the last time you did was. 

You start to get tired and Sun notices immediately. He mutters a brief goodnight to you, and the lights are shut off soon thereafter.

You roll over to your side to watch Moon appear. 

"Thank you. Both of you," You say, as he walks back over to you, "You didn't have to do all this, it's, appreciated."

He nods, "You are welcome."

A sudden realization hits you as sleep begins to take over. 

"My stuff..." You mutter, "I, left my stuff back in the West Arcade, if it's not stolen already."

Moon stands, "I'll retrieve it for you. Will you be alright?"

You sleepily raise your hand, bells jingling in your grasp, "Got these. And I'm a bit more sober now. I'll be okay."

Moon nods, "Then I'll return shortly."

"I might be asleep by then," You yawn, "So I'll preemptively say thank you, and goodnight."

"Goodnight, Diana. Sweet Dreams."

You huff lightly, "What, no goodnight kiss?"

It takes you all of 0.5 seconds to realize what you just said.

"Oh goddammit-"

Moon leans down, and presses a kiss to your forehead, his tone cheeky as he pulls away again, "Is that satisfactory, your highness?"

Your face is hot with embarrassment but you refuse to lose. 

"'Twas," You turn over and away so he can't see your wide-eyed 'holy shit' stare, "But I'll have you know that I'm not that demanding when I drink. This was a one-time thing. Won't happen again."

"Of course not."

You snuggle further under the blanket, mumbling, "It won't. I mean it. It was a stupid mistake. One that's going to haunt me for a while."

Quiet. You feel him sit down beside you, "Everyone makes mistakes, Icarus. It's how we learn from them that matters."

"Trust me, I know."

A hand on your shoulder presses down and makes you lay back on your back. You stare up into red eyes, narrowed with concern down at you. The gaze makes you uncomfortable. You try to brush it off.

"I don't need a pity party, Moon. I gave myself enough of one earlier."

He tilts his head, "It's funny how you always assume care to be pity. I wonder why that is?"

You're about to say it, and play it off as a joke, but he beats you to the punch. 

"Well, it's not fair to speculate. So I'll just tell you, you don't have to suspicious of such with me. Or either of us for that matter," His focus goes back on you, "We mean what we say."

You raise a brow questioningly.

"For the most part, I should say."

You chuckle, "Yeah, I know."

"Your friends mean what they say too, you know. They care about you. As does your family. It's obvious to anyone that sees it. You just simply need to allow yourself to." He pokes your forehead. 

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling briefly, "Oh, that's a lot harder than it sounds, Moon-man."

"I never suggested otherwise. I merely intended to remind you."

"I've been reminded," You smile slightly, "And I'll do my best to continue to do so."

"You'll have assistance." You can't tell if that's a tease, a threat, or a promise. You'll just be on the safe side and assume all three. 

You smirk, "Goodnight, Moon. For real this time."

"Goodnight, Andromeda. For real." He rises from the bed, giving a quick two-finger salute.

You snicker, shake your head, and close your eyes. 

A few moments later you hear the jingle of bells fade out into the Daycare itself.

Your hand clutches the bells and ribbon in your hand a tad tighter, and you feel yourself start to drift off into sleep.

You find yourself awake some time, you're guessing, much later. Your head isn't nearly as heavy, and you feel as if you slept for at least a decent amount of time. 

Groggily, you fumble for your phone, finding that it's been about three hours since you fell asleep. 

You become keenly aware of someone staring at you, and scanning the room find Moon staring down at you from the rafters. 

Normally, this would be an alarming sight at 4 in the morning, for you and your half-asleep mind, it arouses mild surprise. 

"Why are you awake?" He asks. 

You sit up, fumbling for the glass beside you, "I become very awake in the hours after drinking," You gulp down the glass, "For a very short period of time. I'll probably start feeling tired again in a few minutes."

You wipe your mouth and look up to the Attendant, "Why were you watching me?"

Moon shrugs, "Bored."

"Yeah right," You scoff, "Not with the amount of shit you get into on the regular. What's your real reason, sport?"

"Sport?" He asks.

You wave your hand, "It's a combination of sleepiness and leftover drunkenness, just ignore it and save me some embarrassment."

"Noted."

"You didn't answer the question. Don't think I didn't notice," Your arm moves jankily as you point your finger at him. 

His faceplate spins, "We simply wanted to ensure you were alright."

"We? That's a shocker. I'm surprised he isn't having a hissy fit about you making such an implication."

There's a bout of binary before Moon answers with a sigh, "He is now."

You giggle, "Sorry."

Quiet for a few moments.

"Your belongings are located beside you," Moon points to where your bag sits on the floor not too far from the bed, "They appeared to be in order, though I can't say for certain."

Your eyes widen for a moment before you nod your head slowly, "Oh yeah, forgot about that. Thanks."

Moon nods.

"Sorry if I um, ruined your evening plans."

The Naptime Attendant chuckles, "Plans? What is it that you think we get up to, Pandora?"

"You know what I mean, I know you don't just sit and stare at the wall for hours until open," You shrug, "You explore, fuck around with your mechanics, which I don't approve of still," You send him a scolding glare, then continue, "Sun has gossip night with Chica, seems to be a bit crafty as well."

Moon whistles, or plays the sound, at least, "Impressive."

"Yeah, yeah," You wave him off, yawning.

"Seems you've expended your remaining energy."

You settle back into bed, "Getting there."

"Anything I can do to help?" He asks, shifting position to hang upside down from the beam, feet hooked over the other side. 

You scoff lightly, "You, aiding those in desperate need of rest? I don't buy it."

"It's my specialty." He insists, and you both quietly laugh.

"Want me back to bed that bad, huh?" You ask, hands clasping on your chest while you stare up at him, thinking.

"Have any good bedtime stories?"

His faceplate spins, "More than you'd imagine."

"Pick one for me then, and I think that'll do the trick," You nod once, affirmingly.

"Very well."

He starts, voice smooth, soft. Really, perfect for storytelling if you're being honest. It helps your mind to settle again, and well before the end, you're asleep again.

Waking up the next morning, you find yourself face to, back? with a yellow animatronic. 

Sitting up, you see Sun is slouched beside the bed, facing away from you. Examining him more closely you see there's a charging cord plug into the back of his head. 

Curiously, you reach out to poke him. 

"I'd appreciate the ability to recharge in peace, friend."

You jump back, cursing under your breath. 

Then, you huff, "There's no way you could tell what I was going to do."

"No, but a bot can have his suspicions," He turns to look back at you, "And plenty of mine have been right about you."

"'Plenty of mine have been right about you.'" You mock quietly. 

"How are you feeling?"

You sigh, shrugging, "Fine. Maybe a little hungover. I'll live, if you were worried."

"I wasn't," He retorts as you snicker, "But good to know."

You nod to the charging cable, "Thought the two of you switching kept you from using that too often."

At this, Sun flusters. Taking a moment to articulate himself.

"Typically. However, Moon felt-" A bit of binary, before doubling down, "Moon felt it would be unfair to have the lights on in any manner of speaking while you slept. So they remained off throughout the night."

You muse on the words for a minute, nodding thoughtfully. Inside, part of you is overjoyed, and the other is a mixture of shocked and maybe touched? You're not going to think on it further. Point is, Sun gave up his hours-willingly or unwillingly-to give you the chance to sleep. 

"Well, it's appreciated," You reach up and flick his forehead, narrowly dodging around him to grab your phone as he shoos you away. 

He grumbles a response you don't catch. 

Checking the time, it's around 8 am. Looking at your messages, Sun told Clara you'd be home by 10. Yikes. Good to know how little faith he had in you. Well, best not waste it. 

You stretch, giving a final yawn, "This place have a breakfast special? Feel like I swear I've heard about it at least once."

"It does, but I'll inform you it's not one that's served in bed."

"Relax. I can take care of myself just fine now," You throw off the blanket and stand up, "I'll be back. Hold down the fort in the meantime, yeah?"

Sun sputters, a "What?" As you pat him briefly on the back and march out of the room, on the prowl for food to satisfy your hunger. 

Once you find it, you sneak your way back into the Daycare. The Plex is still pretty much abandoned at this point in the morning, but you don't want to have to explain yourself if you don't have to. 

Walking in, you plop down on the bed beside Sun and dig into your breakfast sandwich. Either you're much more hungover than you thought, or this is delicious. Potentially, both. 

"Sorry you missed out on your shit talking session," You say between bites, "As a fellow disgruntled employee I know how important those can be."

Sun scoffs.

You turn to look at him, "And thanks for taking care of me. It's appreciated."

This appears to surprise him, rays ticking to one side, "You're welcome."

"You're not the worst person I've ever met, you know," You take another bite, "Up there, but you have your good qualities."

"That means the world coming from you," He says, hand on his chest and voice syrupy sweet.

You nod, "I know."

He huffs, it turns into a laugh after a moment.

"You're not the worst person I've met, either," His gaze meets yours, "Not as much as you believe yourself to be."

You pause, surprised. Then, you swallow, coughing, "T-thanks."

He turns away again. You continue to eat. 

A thought crosses your mind. 

"You know, if you were really worried about the light, you could've just closed the curtains."

Sun freezes. Then, he sighs, heavily. Hand coming up to run down his face before falling into his lap. 

"Yes. I suppose that would have, been an option."

You burst out laughing, which only grows as the two attendants seem to argue back and forth with each other. 

As you bask in the moment, you find yourself thinking back. 

Yeah, you weren't perfect, but you cared. A lot. And you think that says a lot. Means a lot.

To someone, at least.

☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙☀️🌙

Well, you can probably see now why this bad boy was scrapped as a chapter. Believe me I had the full intentions of saving it, but I'll admit once I saw an out by using it as a one-shot I jumped on it lol 

I don't know if it's everything that I wanted, but I think I hit the main points I'd originally set out to. 

To those who wanted affection with the CS boys, you got it! Just maybe not how you were expecting :) Ah, who am I kidding, you knew it was going to come at the price of angst

Sorry that I went awol for a bit, the antibiotics DID knock me on my ass and it was, rough, to put it plainly and I'm still going to have to get a scan lmao

idk man, I just want to be better already, I gotta propose (MY THESIS, I MEAN MY THESIS, I AM SINGLE) in a few weeks I don't have time for this >_< (she says, as if this hasn't been a 3 month saga)

Gahhh, anyway, hope you enjoyed! Have no idea how I'll feel from one day so you may or may not see me but know I'll be writing in the meantime (and enjoying it i promise, it's my hobby afterall) thanks for reading!

Tag list (hope I did this right, if you did not want tagged simply let me know and I'll remove you!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @eternal-soup (IT WON'T LET ME @ YOU I'M SORRY)

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse

If you want to be added to the tag list, or check out my other stuff, see this post here for more information, bye!

[zekescherries]

﹒ LEFT BEHIND! ﹔ ft ＃ zeke yeager ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕a living reminder of what he sacrificed, of what he left behind in pursuit of a "saving" opportunity for the eldian people.

PAIRING﹕zeke yeager × female!reader ﹒ post-rumbling

CHAPTER(S)﹕previous ﹒ next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth (mentioned) + grieving + single-parenthood + slight ptsd + dead!zeke + dark themes + pet names (zeke calls you peach) (i know not everyone is for pet names) + intentional lowercase & more as the story progresses

AUTHOR'S NOTE﹕i have an ao3, which also has this. updates will be faster there. here's a link.

levi sits in his wheelchair, waiting at the stove, watching his uncooked meat sizzle in the hot pan. "veil, pass me the salt."

with his sleeves rolled up and his hand bandaged; covering his two amputated fingers, levi manages to cook without much assistance. in the corner of his still sightful eye, he can see veil walking. her small feet tapping against the harden wood floor.

she uses her stool to reach up into one of the tall cabinets, her hand searching for something her eyes can't see. though eventually, she grabs the right thing.

"thank you." levi takes the glass from her, a few shakes and their food is salted enough for his taste. even though he hasn't eaten any of it yet.

the young blond looks up at him despite the man not being that tall.

"you're welcome!" she chirps.

silence lingers on after.

"where does salt come from?"

levi pauses, he didn't expect to be asked any weird questions. really, he doesn't know the answer. most of the time he doesn't know the answers to her random questions.

she's smart for her age, only five yet already so articulate and curious.

the scarred ackerman doesn't respond right away and neither does he make eye contact with her, still facing the stove.

not like he could stare into those eyes again.

"not sure," is all levi says.

"does it come from the ocean, because me and mama went there once and the water was salty." she continues to ramble. "but why does it taste. . .sour?"

sour?

levi's expression falters, then does he finally turn around. lowering the temperature of the stove.

". . .you're an interesting kid, y'know that?" he wouldn't admit it aloud but he's grown to care for the girl. he watched her grow, she was placed into his arms at such an early age. confusion shook him when you introduced him to her.

he killed her father, he hated what he stood for, he hunted him down. he left you without a lover, veil, without a father. yet you never blamed him for any of it.

.

.

.

.

it's been five years, by now you thought that you would feel somewhat numb.

but the guilt still eats at you, bit by bit. leaving you asking yourself if there was something that would've made him stay. you knew, as soon as he walked out that door. . .that trouble would follow.

zeke's head stone sits still, there wasn't even a body to bury. it lies without writing, the last thing you needed was someone finding it and potentially vandalizing it.

the world is still healing, the people are still praying; for a better future, for a better life.

the last thing people need to find out is that zeke yeager of all people is missed. not many know him, many aren't even alive to know him. yet he still lives on in the memories of others. as a comrade, a leader, a lover, a monster, a brute of a man, a father.

you won't tell veil about him, she's already at the age where she can notice that her family isn't full. her father is missing, her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, her cousins.

all of them.

wiped out, just like that.

© zekescherries , 🍒

[raina-at]

Fic writer meme

Thank you so much for tagging me @discordantwords.

How many works do you have on ao3? 34. 6 SPN RPF (J2), 1 Supernatural (Wincest - if you have opinions about this, I don't want to hear them), and 27 for BBC Sherlock. I feel compelled to add though that my fandom history predates AO3 by about ten years, and that most of the fics I wrote during that time aren't on AO3. All of my TPM fics, all of my HP fics and most of my Supernatural fics are in fact not on Ao3. So I actually have no idea how many fics I've written since I started in 2001.

What’s your total word count? 585,261 words.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Don't Read the Last Page, Bakers with Benefits, Running Obliquely, Guess Who's Coming to Christmas Dinner and All I Want for Christmas (is Proof) (you guys really like my Christmas fics :-))

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, I love comments, and I love getting into dialogue with readers about their interpretation of the characters and canon! I try to answer everyone, if I ever forget to answer, I'm really sorry!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Um... None?

Of the ones on AO3 that is. I once wrote a Supernatural fic where Sam was a ghost and Dean had to exorcise him and it was heavily implied that Dean would commit suicide as soon as that was done, so that was pretty dark. And I wrote 2 Supernatural post Apocalypse fics that end well but the setting is very bleak.

But all my new stuff, especially all my Johnlock stuff, has happy endings.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Probably Bakers with Benefits. Sherlock gets everything he wants, including John, and they basically live happily ever after. But like I said, all my fics end happily.

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't yet, but that doesn't mean I won't, one of these days. I wrote a Bake Off Sherlock AU, but crossovers means having characters from both canons, and I re-cast both hosts and jurors, so it probably doesn't count.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, thankfully not. I've received a few odd comments here and there, but I never had the feeling that they were mailcious, just tone deaf.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, I do. Mostly of the vanilla kind, I'm not super kinky, and I'm not much for writing PWPs these days, but I like a good, spicy sex scene that shows you something about the characters and their dynamic. And sometimes it's just hawt. Which is also fine.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I heard a story once that someone stole one of my J2 fics and turned into a Het Degrassi fic, but I could never verify this claim because the fic got deleted. Other than that, not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several, and it's a great honour.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, mostly with my wife @nuttersinc, we co-wrote an entire fic series and some other, smaller fics, and we once at a Boondock Saints RPG (I know. I know.) I haven't co-written with anyone in ages, and I'm not sure how good I would be at it these days, since I'm a pantser and don't have very much time, so I think I'd drive anyone with a regular writing schedule bananas. But I'm open to try.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

All time.... omg... Ok, so mirroring @discordantwords here, I adore Mulder and Scully still. They're the OG ship for me, they were the first pairing I read fanfic for. They'e such a good example of The Dynamic (repressed bisexual disguising as the "normal" one when they're just a more adapted sort of crazy and socially awkward genius crazy himbo the normal one has to save all the time). Scully especially owns my heart, I love her, and Gillian Anderson is, like. So. Hot.

But Sherlock and John... they're just... so GOOD. You can do anything with them. You can put them in any scenario, any time, any space, and they're just so magnetically drawn to each other, they complement each other so well and they're so bad and so good for each other... I love them. So much.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Oh, quite a few. The one where John is Sherlock's neighbour and they have this 'we're just friends' dynamic and everyone thinks they should just get married, including Rosie, who's a sassy teen in this fic. It's got a lot of potential but I don't think I'll ever finish it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at dialogue and character dynamics. I think I'm also good at building character arcs, and I think I'm good at setting scenes and making oblivious idiots fall in love.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not the greates plot writer in the world. It takes me much more effort than writing a fic where, say, Sherlock and John have breakfast and talk, to pick a random example. I tend to lose the thread of the plot because I start writing the vibe before I have everything figured out, so I tend to get 'stranded' at some point. That's why my WIP folder looks the way it does.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't attempt it if I don't have a native speaker to look it over and tell me if it's correct. (if the other language isn't German, which is my native language).

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Roswell (the one from the early 2000s, not Roswell New Mexico. Yes, I'm a Fandom Old.)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

None, honestly. If I wanted to write for a fandom or ship, I would.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Oh my god I'm not sure I can answer that. I really like all of my fics, and I love most of them still. Some were such fun to write, some harder but the hardship made them more beloved.

I'll probably have to go for Bakers with Benefits, though, because I still like to re-visit that 'verse and I just LOVE these two.

That was fun! I'm tagging anyone who wants to do this, but especially @jrow @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk and @thetimemoves

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

❤️‍🔥 Smut Oneshots ❤️‍🔥 Chapter One: Hedge Maze

Rating: Explicit Word-Count: 3,300 words Prompt: “I want to taste you so badly.” Additional Tags: lovey dovey shit, pet names, drunk horny ian, public sex, they’re tucked away in a hedge maze but the risk is still there

Summary: It's Debbie's wedding day, and after all she did for theirs, Ian and Mickey are committed to making sure it goes off without a hitch. That includes waiting to fool around until they get back to the hotel - Ian's orders. But now the drinks are flowing and everyone's in a good mood and only one of them is remembering that plan. Mickey dips into the garden to give them some space. But when Ian gives him a playful look of invitation, how's he not supposed to follow him into the romantic hedge maze where anything can happen?

[ read it on archive of our own ]

[piipaw]

Genuine question: when you read fic what is like the most important thing for you to actually click on something and decide to read it?

I got a little sad seeing on twt that I guess a popular thing is to look at the comments/kudos:word count ratio (which I personally think is bullshit) where as I focus on the tags?

Like I'll give something a chance even if it has low/no kudos or comments so long as it's not in 2nd person POV and over 800 words.

[luckyartdrawer]

Small WIP Moon fic drop

Sooo over the summer I started a new dca fic WIP (ik I shoulddd write for my other stuff but shhhhhhh-) and I'm doing a thing where I'm aiming to start posting this one until I'm either completely done or very close to done with the fic. (Because if I post right away my ass will not be able to keep them coming regularly 😔)

Rn I'm about 6 chapters of my expected 15 in! I wanna make this a pretty short story that'll still pack a bit of a punch. I got a message I wanna send >:)

I'm really feeling good about this fic, but since I'm holding back from posting the full chapters, I'll satiate my need to share by giving small tid bits from the beginning chapters. :)

TLDR:

This story is Moon centric and mostly takes place in his pov! (Sorry Sun lovers, I swear I adore that boyo too-) It's also an x reader BUT it'll be SFW and could be interpreted as platonic/queer platonic - Moon is just gonna be a really clingy attention deprived goober. o3o

If you're curious, I have 2 snippets and the story summary below the cut! Ty for reading through my yapping <3

Summary:

Moon was never one to outwardly complain about his place in life.

He had simply lost the lottery. Only out for moments at a time, too afraid to do anything wrong. He's active for so little as is, why risk losing even more time?

Moon prefers nap time. The one place where he can interact with the world calmly for a whole hour. To be a comfort rather than a tool. When everyone sleeps, he can relax, knowing he's done everything right.

Time for himself…

Now that's his favorite. But even then he cannot do much. Only in his wildest nonexistent dreams could he be truly free.

But one day, somehow… Moon actually dreamed.

Who knew how addictive a sweet dream could be?

vvvv Main Ch 1 scene vvvv

vvvv Scene depicting details about the Reader vvvv

Thank y'all for reading! This whole fic is based more on a world I created on my own, but you can definitely see influences from other things within.

The fic is so far planned to be called "Everything You've Ever Dreamed" - and if that rings a bell to you then it's likely exactly what you're thinking :)))

I don't mind if any of y'all wanna give your opinions on it. Tbh I'm not looking for criticism since this is just going to be a short story with unrealistic aspects. Plus, I just want to write something like this for my own satisfaction!

These snippets may or may not change once it comes time to finally start uploading the fic to ao3. This is still a WIP after all, I just love it so much to share it :3

(calling this fic Dreamlike and EYED for short/tags)

[necrotic-nephilim]

Fandom: DCU (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne Additional Tags: Omega Dick Week (DCU), Omega Dick Grayson, Alpha Tim Drake (DCU), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Reverse Robins, first heat, Tim Drake is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Robin, Damian Wayne is Nightwing, Porn With Plot, Mildly Dubious Consent, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Knotting, Bratting, Dirty Talk, Begging, Pre-Flashpoint (DCU), Dacryphilia, Overstimulation, Batkids Age Reversal, Imprinting Summary:

Dick doesn't expect to have his first heat like this. He doesn't expect to have a first heat at all.

But when he presents around Tim Drake, the Red Hood he's been clearly warned to stay away from, he imprints on Tim and Dick will do anything to be near him. Sometimes, flirting with danger is worth the price.

-

Omega Dick Week 2024 - Day 1: Reverse Robin | First Heat

[harudnae]

Sorry for disappearing, it will happen again

(but not before I post my latest fic)

[aparticularbandit]

The Illusion of Choice: Junko Enoshima and Conjunction Junction

Summary: The imminent frustration of having to teach every single one of these characters what a fucking joke is sets Junko on edge.  Did their creator not program them to understand jokes?  Did the player character not make jokes?  What sort of game doesn’t involve a good ribbing between club members every now and again?

Ugh.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M because, as has been stated, this is a Danganronpa/Doki Doki Literature Club crossover, and given the content of both, this is inevitable.

AO3

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“I was told there would be cupcakes.”  Junko crosses her arms as Sayori leads her into an empty room.  “And a club.  You’re not just making all this shit up to get more alone time with me, right?  Because you don’t have to make up an entire club just to—”

“I’m not!”  Sayori waves her hands between them and backs up, an awkward grin on her face.  “I didn’t make anything up!  I—”

Junko clocks out of whatever Sayori says next.  It was a joke.  She knows Sayori isn’t making the whole club up, not after that conversation with Monika two days ago.  Or one day ago, if the repetition of Sayori’s lines says anything about the day when she met Monika.  It might as well have been erased from everyone else’s memories.  The game must lock Junko into a single day loop until she finally joins the club – or at least tells Sayori that she will, apparently.

How unfortunate for Monika.  An entire conversation.  Gone.

(Yeah, right.  Something tells her Monika remembers everything that happens.  Even if no one else does.  Equally unfortunate.)

Regardless, the fact that Sayo-chan doesn’t realize that her bestest friend forever is joking maybe says something about the quality of their relationship.

Or about the relationship the game expects them to have had before it began.

Either way, ick.

So instead of focusing on the continued rambling of her game-assigned bestie, Junko lets her gaze scan the room around them.  It looks just like the classroom she’d been in before.  Someone must have decided to just reuse art assets instead of making each area look different.  Lazy.  There’s not really much detail to the room; sure, the player is supposed to be paying attention to the characters and not the general atmosphere, but why not put in fun easter eggs or potential cheat codes?  Some people live for that sort of thing.

How boring.

As she scans the room, the door to the classroom slams open, and a girl with short actually bubblegum pink hair and eyes the same color as her hair parades in.  (It surprises Junko that she’d though Sayori’s hair was the right color, when this girl’s is – like maybe she hadn’t seen the right shade of pink in so long that she’d forgotten.  But how could she forget the color her hair was supposed to be?  (Easily enough.  Bitch, thy name is Chiaki.))  The girl carries a tray covered with an opaque plastic top and carefully sets it on the teacher’s desk as Monika follows her through the door.

“Natsuki!” Sayori squeals out.  “Don’t slam the door open—”

“I kicked it.  My hands were full!  What was I supposed to—”

“I could have opened it for you,” Monika interrupts, the only one of them to actually complete her sentence.  “When you kick the door open like that, you could break something.”

The new girl – Natsuki – rolls her eyes. “But I didn’t.  So it’s fine.”  Then her gaze lands on Junko.  “You’re the new girl?”  She smiles, and a fang peeks out of one corner.  “At least you’re not a boy.”

Sayori holds her hands up in front of her and bounces a few times as she says, “Did you think Ryo-chan was a—”

“Junko.”

“—boy?”

“Well, duh.” Natsuki crosses her arms.  “Ryo­-chan.  Sounds like a dude to me.”

“It’s Junko,” Junko repeats again, her teeth gritting together.

Natsuki turns to her.  “What is?”

Junko’s eyes grow dark.  “My name.  It’s Junko.  Enoshima Junko.  NOT Ryo-chan.  So quit fucking calling me that.”  She turns to Sayori and glares at her.  “Got. it?”

Sayori quivers under her heavy gaze.  “Sorry, Jun-chan!  I just….  I forgot!”  She taps her head with her hand and offers up an awkward smile.  “I…I don’t remember when you changed it—”

“I have never been….”  Junko takes a deep breath.  “That.  I’ve only ever been me.”  She pinches the bridge of her nose again.  “You would think,” she mutters under her breath, “that my bestest friend ever would know that.  But no.  No.  You have to call me—”

A hand lands on Junko’s shoulder and gives it a little squeeze.  She glances up to see—

Nothing.  There’s no one there.  Just the feeling of someone trying to be comforting but continuing to do absolutely nothing to fix the situation.

Chiaki, you fucking bitch, you did this on purpose.  I know you did this on purpose.

“Jun-chan,” Sayori murmurs.  “I’m sorry.  I won’t forget again.”  She tries to offer her another, just as awkward smile.  “Okay?”

“Whatever.”  Junko sighs.  She moves away from Sayori, who keeps trying to meet her eyes, and leans up against the wall just next to one of the windows.  Then she crosses her arms and tilts her head back as she focuses on the new girl.  “You’re Natsuki?”

Natsuki nods.  “Tsumiki Natsuki.”  Her eyes narrow.  “Don’t call me cute.”

Junko raises an eyebrow.  “Or what?”

“Or I call you Ryo-chan.”

The very idea sends rankles up Junko’s back, but she can’t fault it.  Game recognizes – well, not game, because none of these characters are going to be on her level, but she can at least recognize equal pettiness.  “Fair.”  She shrugs.  “You’re not all that cute anyway.”

Natsuki stares at her, as though trying to decide if Junko’s being serious or just joking.

The imminent frustration of having to teach every single one of these characters what a fucking joke is sets Junko on edge.  Did their creator not program them to understand jokes?  Did the player character not make jokes?  What sort of game doesn’t involve a good ribbing between club members every now and again?

Ugh.

It’s fine.  She’ll learn the in-jokes and whatever humor their creator seems to run on – everyone has some sense of humor, even if it’s incredibly dry, even if someone else might consider it humorless – and in a game that focuses on character interaction and club dynamics, there has to be one somewhere.  She just has to find it.

Or, you know, make them adjust to hers.  Whichever bends the game to her will more easily.  (You’d think that would be adjusting the characters’ sense of humor to her own, but often playing within the bounds of the game will be much more effective than demanding it cater to her.)

“Well, Enoshima-san.”  Monika moves over to her with an outstretched hand, endlessly formal.  “I know we’ve already met, but I’m Ikusaba Monika.”

If Junko didn’t internally flinch when Natsuki introduced herself as Tsumiki, then she does now.  Her eyes narrow.  “You’re kidding me.”

Monika’s brow furrows.  “Is there something wrong?”

“No.  Nothing.”  Junko lies through her teeth, knows that it’s easy to tell that she is, and grits her teeth before her eyes flick not so subtly upward.  Then, she relaxes, grins.  “Moni-kun.”

Monika’s eyes widen.  “Wait—”

But Sayori interrupts, clapping her hands together so loud that it might as well be a thunderclap in the silence surrounding them.  “Moni-kun!  That’s amazing!”  She turns to Natsuki.  “Don’t you think that’s cool?”

“I could have thought of that.”

But as Natsuki pouts, Junko’s lips curve into a much more smug expression.  She slaps her hand into Monika’s and squeezes tight, then leans in and whispers, “Mono-kun.”

The change in the nickname doesn’t seem to shake Monika as much as the first version did.  Of course.  There’s nothing about Monokuma or Ultimate Despair in this game; she doesn’t have to go through its entire code to know that.  Even if there was, Chiaki would have scrubbed it clean before putting Junko in here.  But it’s still fun to force it into the space.  It might just be for her own personal benefit – a reminder of something that shouldn’t exist – but it’s there all the same.

(Or she could drop it entirely.  Give herself that little booster shot of despair every time she has to remember.  Chiaki might not be right about the game being made for her, or whatever, but the constant drip of despair might be.)

Then, while Monika squeezes Junko’s hand just as tight (but still isn’t nearly as painful because Monika doesn’t know how to use her shorn nails), the door to the clubroom opens again, a fourth girl walks in, and whatever petty fascination Junko has with Monika disappears.  She can’t see much through Monika, who stands directly in front of her, but she knows that height, and she knows that hair.

Mikan?

As Junko drops her hand, Monika turns.  “Yuri!  You’re running a bit late today.”

“O-oh, no.”  The girl with deep purple hair moves into better view as she carries a tray of tea over to the teacher’s desk and sets it just next to the tray Natsuki set there.  “I was here early, b-but you said….  Sayori said we would have a…a new member today, so I just thought….”  She blushes a bright, bright red and gestures to the tea before hiding behind one of her long strands of hair.

Not Mikan.

Seeing her now – her hair not disheveled and uneven, the darker saturation of its color (and that of her eyes as well) – Junko is surprised she ever mistook her for the woman she—

“Enoshima Junko,” she says by way of introduction, pushing herself past Monika with her hand outstretched.  “Moni-kun called you Yuri?”

“Y-yes.”  Yuri blushes an even brighter red.  “Matsuda Yuri.”  She takes Junko’s hand, then glances up and meets her eyes.  “It’s a…a pleasure to meet you, Enoshima-san.”

Ah.

Junko smiles – soft – and says, “You don’t need to be so formal.  Call me Junko.”

Yuri’s blush remains as she averts her eyes.  Her hand is soft, gentle, and warm from carrying the tea.  For a moment, just a moment, Junko is sure that Yuri rubs her thumb along the back of her hand.

That moment is lost when Natsuki slams the top of the table behind them, and Yuri jumps away, dropping Junko’s hand as she does.  “Great,” Natsuki says.  “You’ve met everyone.”  She grins, that canine poking out over her lips.  “I made cupcakes.”

Behind them, Sayori squees.  She comes to the front, accidentally separating Junko and Yuri even more as she does.  “Cupcakes!”  She turns to Junko with a huge grin.  “Natsuki makes the best cupcakes, Jun-chan!  You’re going to love them!”

“I won’t be eating—”

“You should eat one,” Monika murmurs, sidling up on her other side.  “To be polite.”

Natsuki glares at both of them.  “Don’t eat it to be polite!  If you don’t want one, don’t eat it!  But you’re missing out!”  She crosses her arms and grins.  “I’m a master chef, and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Once in a lifetime when you make cupcakes for every special occasion,” Mikan Yuri mutters under her breath.

Immediately, Natsuki’s glare moves to her.  “What did you say?”

“N-n-nothing.”

“Good.”  Natsuki takes the opaque plastic top from her tray with a bright smile.  “Look!”

But Junko isn’t looking at the cupcakes.  (They’re cute, and they look like kittens.  Natsuki’s a good cupcake artist, sure, but that doesn’t mean the cupcakes will taste good.  It doesn’t matter.  She’s not eating one.)  Instead, she’s focused on Yuri, who moves to one side of the table to start pouring the tea.  She walks over to join her.  “How do you take yours?”

“A little cream, no sugar.”  Yuri doesn’t glance up.  “Sugar can enhance the natural flavor, but I find it makes the tea far too sweet for me, especially when paired with Natsuki’s cupcakes.  Having something a little bitter makes the whole so much better, don’t you think?”  Then she flinches.  “S-s-sorry.  I don’t know what came over me—”

“It’s fine,” Junko murmurs, smiling as Yuri blushes again.  “I like mine the same way.  All that sugar makes my teeth ache.”

Yuri nods to the cupcakes.  “They are very good, though.  Natsuki…she puts a lot of thought into them.”  But her eyes darken as they drop.  “They’re very…cute.”

“I heard that!”

~

The rest of the meeting goes…easily.  Not poor, not well, just easy.  Like the introductory phase of a—

“Did you put me in a fucking dating sim?” Junko rails at her empty bedroom when she returns.  It’s the spot of silence in a day that feels as though it’s been full of people, and she’s tired – so tired.  She hates this.  They aren’t even real people, and they’re wearing the names of people she loves, even if they don’t know it.  The worst part is that their names don’t even match!  Monika is nothing like Mukuro, Natsuki is nothing like Mikan, and Yuri is nothing like—

Junko’s eyes narrow.

“How much scraping did you do to pull all of that out, huh?”

Chiaki sighs behind her.  “I didn’t modify the game, Jun-chan.”

At her words, Junko whirls to her, eyes narrowing.  “It’s not fair that of the two of us, you’re the one who can appear and disappear at will.  You said you put us both here, and you aren’t even playing.”  She leans forward.  “You and Sayori would be such good friends.”

“We would be, I think,” Chiaki admits with a nod, “but the girls all like whoever joins the club.  It’s a function of the game.”

“Yeah.  Because it’s a dating sim.”  Junko glares at Chiaki, who first leans back against and then finally sits on Junko’s bed, tucking her feet underneath her.  “You think getting boned down is going to fix me?  Me?”  She laughs.  “Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.  You’d know that if you paid attention to any of those memories you mined from me.”

“I didn’t mine any of your—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Chiaki shrugs.  “I won’t if you don’t.”  She glances around the room.  “I didn’t do anything to you that I wasn’t programmed to do, other than putting you in a different game, and even that is programming.  This one suits you better than the island and gathering hope fragments; that’s all.”  Then she pats the bed next to her.  “Do you want to talk, or just to yell at me?”

“Yell.  Glare.  Call bad names.  Give you shit for—”  Junko yawns and covers her mouth with one hand.  “Nope.  That’s all getting pretty boring.”  She sighs.  “Even being petty loses it’s charm after a while.  I could think of a hundred thousand ways to kill you, but the moment the execution happens, I’ve already thought it out, and it loses its appeal.  The shock value’s there for a viewer, sure, but I don’t need the real thing.”

“Sure, you do.”  Chiaki meets her eyes levelly.  “If you don’t really kill me, how do you feel any despair from my death?”  She pushes herself from the bed and brushes her skirt.  “Are you enjoying the game, at least?”

“No.”

Chiaki smiles.  “You are, I think.  Or you wouldn’t be so mad about it.”  She glances up.  “I need to go.”

Junko rolls her eyes.  “Of course, you do.  Can’t stay and have a good chat with your friend, Jun-chan, who you’ve locked into—”  As she continues, Chiaki disappears again, fading completely from view.  To be honest, she isn’t surprised, and if she’s even more honest with herself, she’s glad she’s gone.  She flops back onto her bed and stares up at the Rocky Horror Picture Show poster tacked to her ceiling.  “Oh, Frank-N-Furter,” she sighs.  “We’re really in it now.”

Except she knows that this, being just the beginning, isn’t in it at all.

This is coming in during the Time Warp sequence.  This isn’t even the arrival of Frank-N-Furter himself.  This is all lead up.

Everything after this is the real game.

(She hates it here.)

POLL HERE

[its-all-ineffable]

Hey guys. All my followers and mutuals old and new, and those peeps who ocassionally wander across one of my posts/reblogs.

I'm afraid I'll not be posting much on Tumblr for a while, or likely getting many fanfics posted in the coming months.

I've just started a new part-time job that's 20 hours a week, 5 days a week, and I am also starting a part-time Master's Degree that will take up 2 evenings per week and much more of my time (because it's coursework based). So I will be VERY fucking busy and also VERY tired, and will likely be using any spare time I have from these things to sleep, watch some tv/movies or read (if I feel up to it).

I will be around for sure, and I hope to keep writing and posting fanfics. However, don't expect the productivity you've seen recently repeated for a LONG while.

Love you all, and thanks for your support. All of you. x

[jinxofthedesert]

To all wanting an update: I am hoping to get chapter 29 of Carve My Name Into Your Skin out next month. I was really hoping to make it for January but I just haven't had the time.

To those who are unaware, I began my Masters Program at the start of Jan and that is literally all I've been doing. It doesn't leave my mind with much clarity afterward, so the writing has been incredibly slow.

Ironically the chapter is getting long despite this as I've been working on it when I can. I was hoping there would be a place to break it off, as I've done with the last few chapters concerning the scene with Thorfinn and Bjorn. Make it a 4 part, instead of my planned 3 part. But there has been no good spot to end the chapter, unless I did it mid-dialogue which isn't something I want to do.

Currently the chapter is sitting at 18k, very close to 19k honestly. I have a possible place I could break it off a bit further from where I am and end the chapter early since the conversation will be switching but . . . we shall see. That would be great.

Either way, thought I'd let you all know! Wishing you all a fantastic rest of your weekend and a good luck to the start of your week. You got this~

[shivasdarknight]

Putting this over here to isolate this point: the OTW Volunteers did a lot of work to get AO3 back up and running after the DDoS. The OTW Board didn't do shit.

Your donations to AO3 go into OTW's financial reserve, and an estimate of how much they have is around $2.5 million (thread that breaks this down). They can maintain the platform for five years with what they have stored, and that number may be a low estimate.

OTW doesn't need your money. OTW's volunteers deserve financial compensation for all they've been subjected to, but none will see a penny from your donations.

Support the volunteers all you like, but know that your donations do nothing for them nor improve their working conditions.

Also stop being islamophobic assholes, the people who did this called themselves Sudanese just to get this kind of response. Grow up, learn to spot a troll, and go educate yourselves instead of constantly spewing racist shit.

[artemisdesari-blog]

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[merlinfromberlin]

Masterpost 2.0

Hello and welcome to my overhauled Masterpost. ^^

I’m not sure if it’s better than before, but it’s up-to-date and prettier (in my opinion). And it has smileys now. :D

About Me:

early twenties | they/them | not actually from Berlin

AO3-Profile

University student majoring in History.

English is my second language, so, please forgive minor vocab/grammar/syntax mistakes – they tend to pop up from time to time, especially if I’m tired.

I’m always open to talking to people! It might take me a bit to answer, but always feel free to start conversations via DMs or send asks. <3

Fics: mostly Angst, Hurt/Comfort & Found Family, sometimes a bit of fluff; mostly Transformers

Ships: ships may vary depending on continuity/story and are usually not the focus of my writing; however, OptiRatch (TFP) keeps popping up here and there;

Also just going to sneak that in right here. I’m open to beta-reading fics, especially for people I’ve interacted with before/interact with somewhat regularly – be that on tumblr or AO3. I actually kind of enjoy it, so, feel free to hit me up and I’ll see if I can help. <3

Fanfic Overview:

A Little Left Of Right

"Apparently our cross-dimensional counterparts belong to the more faint of heart," said Optimus. His words sent a cold shiver down Bumblebee's backstrut. "Weren't they keeping pets, too?" asked Arcee, the cold sneer that accompanied those words basically audible. "Pathetic. I don't know what anyone could ever find in these squishies. It's a shame we're stuck here with them." ::What?:: bleeped Bee.

Or: When Bumblebee wakes up after a crash, something is not quite right with Team Prime.

- chapter: 2/? - words: 4,058 - date: October 2024 - ?

- first two chapters written for Angstober 2024

Angstober 2024 Oneshots

Series containing all the oneshots I wrote for Angstober 2024.

- works: 10 - words: 10,992 - date: October 2024

 Champions Aren’t Born

When a scout injured at Tyger Pax turns out to be barely older than a sparkling, Optimus and Ratchet are horrified. Nevertheless they are determined to keep the youngling safe from now on. But while they try to grapple with the challenges of trying to care for a traumatised youngling, their time is running out. Not only are the days of Cybertron counted and their departure now inevitable, but they also need to find the bot who took in a sparkling to send him onto the battlefield.

- chapter: 3/? - words: 8,564 - date: September 2023 - ?

- on Hiatus until I’ve watched some more of G1

Dreaming of Home

Megatron has constructed the perfect fantasy to trap Bumblebee in his own processor. After all, if the scout doesn't want to wake up, he won't interfere with the warlord's plans to resurrect himself, either.

- chapter: 1/2 - words: 1,797 - date: October 2024 - ?

- first chapter written for Angstober 2024 Day 11: Wake Up  

Empty Words by Empty Sparks

“I’m still writing letters to you.” It’s the only justification Bumblebee can think of as he stands in front of Optimus Prime’s grave for the first time since his funeral hexacycles ago.

- chapter: 1/1 - words: 400 - date: July 2024

MYFA

All My Tears Have Been Used Up

What baby Bee was doing before Optimus and Ratchet found him.

- chapter: 1/1 - words: 1,629 - date: October 2024

- Heed the Warnings on AO3, please - based on an Angstober 2024 prompt 27: Curled Up

Make You Feel Alright

Primus knew, Ratchet would do anything to shield his sparkling from harm. Yet, the War made exceptions for no one, not even at the insistence and threats of grumpy old medics. Thus, sometimes the only thing Ratchet could do was to hold and comfort Bumblebee in the aftermath of disaster.

Or: 5 times Ratchet had to encourage Bumblebee to open his servo. The gritty, the wholesome and the dark.

- chapter: 5/5 - words: 23,105 - date: June – July 2024

So You Know I Care

As Ratchet waits for Bumblebee to wake up after being tortured at Tyger Pax, he makes a promise.

- chapter: 1/1 - words: 1,003 - date: October 2024

- based on Angstober 2024 prompt 09: Promise

Nooks & Crevices

Hiding was a skill essential to those growing up on Cybertron during the Civil War. However, for a certain vibrantly yellow sparkling raised by the Autobot High Command, and highly sought after by the Decepticons, being able to stay undetected is even more vital than most. It’s a good thing then that Bumblebee is a natural.

Or: 5 times Bumblebee ‘played’ Hide & Seek with his family and 1 time a Decepticon played with him.

- chapter: 1/6 - words: 5,965 - date: August 2024 - ?

- on Hiatus until I’ve watched some more of G1

Numb Little Bug

The feeling was already there when it became aware of life for the first time. It was eternally graceful and wise.

The feeling would still be there long after its awareness of life had ceased. It was eternally graceful and cruel.

- chapter: 7 - words: currently I have c. 30,000 words written across all 7 chapters; - date: don’t know yet; hopefully I’ll be at a point where I can start sharing more at the end of the year

- TFP rewrite - find the first few paragraphs here

The Best of My Spark You Took

When Optimus Prime gave up the Matrix of Leadership and his memories, some of the Autobots lost more than just their leader.

Or: The reactions of two Autobots, one Decepticon and one guy to Orion Pax. In drabbles.

- chapter: 1/1 - words: 400 - date: July 2024

Fanfic Recommendations:

Bee & Ratchet Fics

I hope you’re having a nice day wherever you are!

And now I’ll get back to writing:

[soaps-mohawk]

Summary: Task Force 141 operates successfully without an omega, at least that’s what Price has been saying since its formation. Two alphas and two betas balance the pack just fine, and they have the numbers to prove it.

It works for a while, until the Omega Initiative is born and the 141 find themselves having to adjust to the sudden addition of an omega to their pack. Fresh out of an institute, you’re hardly fit for their secretive, dangerous world, or so Price thinks. 

As each member of the team gets closer to you, things begin to come to light, not only about you but about the decision to force you into their lives.

Maybe, just maybe, Price was wrong and the 141 does need an omega after all. 

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, NSFW content, explicit smut, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), knotting, biting, claiming, mating cycles, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, age differences, military inaccuracies, canon typical violence, blood, weapons, language, no use of Y/N, brief torture, hurt/comfort, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Chapters containing smut are marked with a *

Updates are posted on the weekends, either Saturday or Sunday PST

This fic can also be found on my Ao3 -> HERE

I will no longer be using a taglist for this fic, please follow THIS BLOG and turn on notifications

**This fic is currently in progress**

NAVIGATION PAGE

CRCB DIRECTORY

Part 1 - The Omega

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Chapter 5 - What I Want *

Part 2 - The Bond

Chapter 6 - One Step Closer *

Chapter 7 - Sweet Strawberry

Chapter 8 - The Thing About Ghost

Chapter 9 - Save Me

Chapter 10 - Treat Me Gently*

Part 3 - The First Heat

Chapter 11 - It's Coming

Chapter 12 - Fire In My Veins*

Chapter 13 - Piece Me Back Together*

Chapter 14 - The Aftermath*

Part 4 - The New Normal

Chapter 15: Bonnie*

Chapter 16: Big Brown Eyes *

Chapter 17: Alone

Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go

Chapter 19: Daddy Issues

Chapter 20: The New Normal *

Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment *

Chapter 22: I Won't Be Gentle

Part 5 - A Pack of Five

Chapter 23: Regrets

Chapter 24: The Last First Time *

Chapter 25: Animals *

Chapter 26: Fuck *

Chapter 27: Drown In It *

Chapter 28: Two Is Company, Three Is A Party *

Chapter 29: There's Something Wrong With My Omega

Part 6 - The Tragedy

Chapter 30: Butterfly's Wings

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Chapter 32: The Tragedy

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Chapter 34: The Whole Truth

Part 7 - The Aftermath

Chapter 35: Threads

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Chapter 37: The Silence

Chapter 38: Shattered

Chapter 39: Life

Part 8 - The Next Chapter

Chapter 40 - Where Do We Go From Here

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