#I might put it on ao3 as well

[writeouswriter]

People sorting ao3 solely by stats and only clicking on fics with a certain amount of kudos or comments, you will not survive the winter, nor the summer, nor at all, *brings out knife,* run

#ao3 #fanfiction #because if everyone thinks like that then so many fics that might be great get buried and fall into the void #someone has to read it with no hits or kudos #not to mention sometimes people just have wildly different tastes so you don't know unless you look at it yourself #i put a bunch of exclusion filters and then go by summary and tags and open all the ones that sound interesting to me #if they're bad well easy enough to move on #but lotta good ones hidden in there with not a comment in sight and i must change that #knife tw #? #tw knife mention

[wisteriagoesvroom]

happy "breaching the top 10 f1 rpf pairings on ao3" day to landoscar nation 🎂 because it's all about.... two people that are so much the same yet so different. australia vs the uk. oscar's cool collected calm versus lando's ricocheting personality. twitch streams and side hustles and multiple endeavors vs singlemindedness of racing. purity of craft vs embracing everything life throws at you and trusting that it'll all work out. the rivalry that isn't (well it is, but not really). pushing each other to be better. making heart eyes in a taylor swift video, reaching out to your teammate in silverstone after surviving a media maelstrom and him being pleased and stepping closer because he's been given permission to. making fun of your resident weeb for reading the words "kit kat" but just in a japanese accent.

it's being so ridiculously competitive that you'll hide in a burning bin in the name of fun for a game with made up points and then squinting at your teammate ringed with the bright light of the sun and laughing at how stupid this all is. it's making fun of your teammate's music taste that you can hear through the thin walls of the drivers' rooms. trusting the journey. mimicking each other's body language. knowing it's for the marketing but winking at the camera together anyway, like we're all invited to be in on the joke. two parallel lives woven in two different garages with almost identical specs. being so comfortable you have this weird rapport that is kind of a cipher and unknowable to anyone outside of the immediate network or team, but it's so assured and quiet that for the first time the person who's been the person who was once the younger teammate steps up, acts older now, and becomes comfortable with the silence.

it's knowing your best friend was on their renault team and not saying anything about it in public but the motorsport world is so small and specific and the experience so surreal that surely some laylines are just strangely predestined. it's about growing up together. it's watching the brit upstart in a generation of two other brit upstarts chase his dream and give up everything to win and get velcroed to the seat because he's kind of small, just like you, but you dream bigger than anyone dares to dream and you identify with the other's self belief that says you, too, could stand on that top step one day. it's you following the little blue-suited guy racer on social media and liking sooo many of his posts over the years, and not even bothering to hide that fact when you've probably become that goalpost for someone else one day, too.

it's chapter 2, with 3 more to go. it's watching your teammate win his first sprint race and finding it in yourself to be happy for him even when you're sad that it wasn't you. it's publicly saying that the rookie is not a threat, he's a threat who makes you race better. it's making fun of newbie's first day at mclaren and finding him unknowable. and he arrives with all this hype and pressure so what can you do but focus on you and step up your game, but he's always in the background and the periphery, chasing and chasing with this hunger that is unbelievable and unfamiliar because it's always humming in a way that made you mistake stillness for idleness in the past. but now, you know: still waters run deep, so you swim harder, too. drop the dj-ing. become more disciplined. train more. do things that don't matter, less.

because the future is vast. the future is happening constantly if you're ready to meet it. and maybe destiny will be kind, and your names will be remembered. your name, inked on a trophy in the precious metal of kings, and dreamers. your name, inked in gold.

but today, you're 22. you're 24.

you're driving a car as fast as you can, and everything that's possible, feels like it could be possible, right now.

#landoscar #oscar piastri #lando norris #f1 rpf #814 #the landoscar thesis #mctwinks #twinklaren #i started putting this as a tag on mechchrome's post announcing the top 10 pairings development on ao3 #and then i was like lol wait i have can't shut the f up ism #so i might as well make this a post #<- in fact the last two points might as well explain my entire existence on f1blr atp #overthink it? yes i will! thanks! #pls release me from the orange mind-tessaract

[howmanyholesinswisscheese]

i made more sad stuff

Three days ago I made a post here about aziraphale and crowley and it made a lot of people sad. One of those people was adoptive son and disappointment to the family name @weirdly-specific-but-ok, who proceeded to hit me back by unearthing my deep seated dad issues writing a movie.

Long story short we roped each other into a duel slash sad-off, because i cry easily and he decided to exploit that because he's evil a great guy, and now it's my turn to throw a punch.

Take this Asmi. Take this. The long version, under the cut.

***

Relief is… Relief is. Relief is a difficult emotion.

Relief is, technically, a feeling of reassurance and relaxation following release from anxiety or distress. Aziraphale should know – he owns several copies of the dictionary. And Crowley should, too – he helped write it.

There are many things relief is, and there are just as many if not more that relief is not.

Relief is not seeing your best friend again. There is no reassurance, no relaxation to be found in glimpsing his familiar white curls at the doorstep of the bookshop he abandoned when you know the reason he’s here, and it’s not you. There is no release to be gained from the sort of desperation that forces you back to the sullen, once affectionate eyes that you know will hide from you behind dark glasses despite how much you love them – only a dull, familiar pain.

Relief is not saving the world with him. Not when you’ve done that before. Not when he is your world, and you have failed so spectacularly at keeping him safe as to end up hurting him. When humanity is saved once more, distress still lingers, and your hands still shake at the thought of reaching out and touching him.

Relief is not being alone with him. When all is said and done, and you both return to the home that is not your home, the scars left by each other’s words still bind your hands like fishing wire, sawing deeper into your skin the harder you struggle to break free. To walk by his side is to wade through a sea of regret, knee-deep, and you cannot stand to see the pain you put on his face.

Relief is not this bookshop, this sacred place you tarnished with an offer you will never stop regretting. With insults you would give your life to take back.

Relief is not any of this.

Relief is a Demon interrupting your bumbling attempts at filling the hollow silence that fills, unbidden, the place you wish you could both call home, yet do not dare to anymore. Relief is a gentle voice, a voice so soft that you could never tell that it comes from the lips of a fallen angel.

Saying, “Aziraphale. Stop. Just stop.”

Relief is permission to breathe.

Relief is an Angel gathering his thoughts and somehow still stumbling trying to tell you how he feels. He gestures wildly, and you watch fondly as he puts words to the ineffable. Relief is some things never changing.

Relief is the Angel who hurt you saying, “All I ever wanted was for you to be safe.” Saying, “Please, please tell me I didn’t make you think I don’t care for you. Because if I did, I am so, so very sorry.”

Relief is not taking his hands in yours, his beautiful, beautiful hands, and brushing a thumb over the marks he’s subconsciously scratched into them, calluses and raw skin that tell the tale of a life without your love. But it is in how he squeezes back.

You tell him that you hurt him, too. That you’re sorry.

You tell him that you love him and you see his eyes widen, then brim with tears.

Relief is a second chance. A second kiss, and it’s nothing like your first. It’s full of life, and hope, and none of the anger that laced the way your lips last met. It’s the hands of a Demon cupping the cheeks of an Angel, gentle and tender and shaking slightly, and that only makes it all the more real.

Relief is a Demon’s tears, freely falling. They mix with yours, staining your lips with salt, and yet nothing you’ve done has ever tasted this sweet. You have known love as a dagger, twisting in your gut. This is not that. This is the love of someone who has known its absence and oh, has his pain only ever made him kind.

Relief is your Angel still clinging to you, after all that you’ve done. His hands come up to grip your forearms, as if you’d ever leave again, not after this. As if you could bring yourself to, when he kisses so softly you have to choke down a sob. He is a being of love, and yet he craves yours like a dying man. Relief is knowing he will never let go.

When you both pull back, it is only to wipe away the tears. You cried the last time you kissed, but not like this. You’ve never cried tears of joy like these before. They are bittersweet, and they taste like everything you’ve never said.

There are no words spoken through gritted teeth, there is forgiveness in both your eyes but it is the tender kind, and you have never known a moment to be so full of care.

“I missed you,” chokes the Angel who had once been so terrified. There is no resentment in his voice, not like last time.

“Missed you too,” comes the watery reply of a Demon completely and enormously in love, and he does not turn and walk away.

You sob, and he sobs, and you fall into each other, smiling despite the tears that spill down your cheeks and trace familiar lines that were born of heartbreak and pain, now carved deeper by the spoils of such a release. You laugh together, and you hold on tight, and everything feels okay. Because for the first time in so long, your tears are happy, and you are where you belong.

This is relief in its purest form: forgiveness, and a second chance.

You will live, forever, in this moment, this moment that is entirely yours and yours alone. Even far away, after years go by and you find yourselves in a cottage in the South Downs, you will never leave this moment. You will never leave his arms.

Relief will stop being tears and broken apologies. It will be waking up next to him, and watching the rise and fall of his chest as the sun rises and the nightingales sing in the apple tree you planted outside together. It will be wrapping your arms around his waist as he cooks and tasting spoonfuls of batter as he scolds you.

It will be an Angel and a Demon, and a world in which those titles do not matter.

END.

Update: ao3 link here :)

#sorry again guys so sorry #SORRY #i might put this on ao3 who knows #i played with perspective a bit so it feels a little funky but oh well #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable breakup #fic

[mariatesstruther]

okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria

okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut

tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.

one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:

is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)

still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too

joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “😲😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that

later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.

today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.

tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)

tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”

and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”

luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”

“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”

“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”

but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”

“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”

“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”

“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”

“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”

“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”

“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.

it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”

“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony

#tbh i might edit this and put it on ao3 #im so sorry i didnt get ti the falling in love part at all but i LOVE a good meet-cute #*to #and this is i think my favorite one i’ve put on this blog??????? #anon. bestie. you did so well i love u thank u #if yall didnt know already im a preschool teacher so #and​ have i dreamed abt a rich hot younger single parent/gaurdian falling in love with me???? you fuckin betcha #preschool au #im 100% gonna try to connect this with the one rose and i already made #idk where ellie is in here but she’s here!!!! she loves miss maria too! #miss maria loves kids and especially loves embracing neurodiversity and all the different ways kids brains works #miss maria provides brain breaks and shows you how to do body checks to check in with your body #miss maria understands the importance of diversity in her book and media selection #miss maria recommends tab time and bluey #tommy x maria #tlou au #the tipsy bison #ugh I LOVE THISSSSSS BROOOO IM PROUD OF THIS 🫶🏾 #yeas i have plans for tess and joel YOU BET I DO #when ur kids having play dates turns into u dating their mom #tess and joel: who am i gonna date??? i have no time. im a parent #ellie and sarah: hold my juicebox #like theyre fully setting them up with no clue that they’re doing it I LOVE MY LITTLE GIRLS #she calls them sarah sweets and ellie enchanted #she’s referencing ella enchanted but elie doesnt care about that so she explains it means ellie is magic #and ellie is down for that because in her brain magic equal dragon. ellie LOVES dragons #sarah miller #toddler sarah #baby sarah #neurodivergent miller tag

[themoonking]

when people bring up the racism, homophobia, transphobia, romanticization of domestic abuse / rape / pedophilia / incest, literal actual written porn of literal actual real life flesh and blood children, et cetera et cetera on archive of our own, one of the ao3 stannies’ main defenses is “you can just filter out the tags if you don’t want to see that!” when that defense has no fucking legs to stand on.

ao3 is not an archive, it is barely even a website: a rant <3 (very long)

ignoring the fact that it’s a problem that all of that is permitted on the site in the first place (i guess child porn and racism are fine, and the people who allow it on their platform are fine, as long as i, personally, do not see it), that defense literally means nothing. it’s assuming that every little thing on ao3 is tagged properly and it absolutely is not, and if you think it is you are dumber than rocks. i mean for fuck’s sake, just touching on archive warnings and not tags, “creator chose not to use archive warnings” is literally a valid option for fic authors to use when it should fucking not be.

if someone is a freak who thinks that pedo shit is hot, they might not tag it as “rape” (archive warnings OR tags). i’ve literally seen underage father/son rape porn with no trigger warning tags but “child abuse if you squint”. IF YOU SQUINT. if someone thinks that domestic abuse is actually cool and sexy when attractive people do it, they might not tag it as “abuse”. if someone is a freak who likes incest, but bends over backwards to justify it by only shipping adopted family members, then they tell themselves that they don’t view it as incest, and might not tag it as “incest”. if someone is a racist, a homophobe, a transphobe, et cetera and they wrote bigotry into their fic (or else wrote a deliberate troll fic to trigger people on purpose), do you really think they’re going to tag it as racism / homophobia / transphobia / et cetera? and some people get kicks out of writing purposefully triggering content and either leaving it untagged or mistagging it so that people will read it unsuspectingly.

even for just general content tags, it’s a mess. people just forget to tag things all the time. people deliberately won’t tag the endgame ship of their fic because “it’s a spoiler heehee”. people use the romantic or sexual “x / y” tag instead of the platonic or otherwise “x & y” tag, sometimes by mistake sometimes on purpose. it’s a joked about issue how people will tag characters or ships that appear in their fic for two sentences.

there’s no standardization of tags, which is a pretty obvious problem. what first comes to mind is the “dead dove: do not eat” tag which should just not be a tag at all because it just has no meaning. depending on the individual fic writer using it, it could mean anything from “literally the most sickening and depraved thing you’ve ever read in your life” to “horror w/ gore”. but it applies to other vague tags too - different fic writers will have different ideas of what the tag means.

in addition to that, what is and isn’t made a filterable tag, what tags are made synonymous, et cetera, is entirely up to the whims of the site staff. as an example, if you’re trying to look for fanfiction of a singular animated disney movie, the infinite crossovers with other disney movies will not actually be counted as crossovers (which they are) because they’re classified as the “disney theatrical animated universe” (which isn’t a fucking thing), so you can’t filter them out the “exclude crossovers” way. if you try to filter out the fandom tag “disney theatrical animated universe”, it’ll show up with zero fics because that tag is synonymous with every disney animated film (regardless of if the fic author actually used the tag “disney theatrical animated universe” or not), thus also filtering out the one you actually wanted to find.

and do not get me fucking started on the “all media types tags”, which also just shouldn’t be a thing because it makes it fucking impossible to find the specific fics you’re looking for. some people use it in place of tagging a specific canon / adaptation when their fic very clearly draws from one specific canon / adaptation, and you can’t filter it out because it’s synonymous with every fandom tag under its umbrella.

as an example of the issues of both the “all media types” tag and mistagging in general: as a fan of the witcher books, it used to be a fucking ordeal to find fanfiction specifically for the books (post netflix show release). some show fans would, for whatever reason, tag their fics with the book fandom tag in addition to (or even in place of!!) the show fandom tag when their fics were unquestionably show-specific, meaning i could not simply search only in the book fandom tag. i could not simply filter out the show tag, because some show fans would, for whatever reason, tag as fucking “all media types”, when their fics were unquestionably show-specific. and alas, i could not filter out “all media types” and the show tag, so that i see only those fics which have been deliberately and exclusively tagged as the book, not only because as mentioned some show fans would tag their show fics with only the book tag, but also because the fucking all media types tag filters out the book tag as well, leaving me with zero fucking fics REGARDLESS of if the author actually used the “all media types” tag. now, thankfully, i’ve thankfully seen this issue in this specific fandom lessen, but it still occurs in other fandoms and i guarantee that it didn’t lessen in the witcher fandom because of any fixing of the site on the part of ao3 staff.

another common defense of ao3 freaks is that it’s an “archive”, and therefore can’t get rid of anything anyone posts, and disregarding the fact that that is not how archives fucking work, they don’t just allow anything and also ao3 DOES get rid of fics... when they say that they don’t like proshippers, apparently, archives have... you know... archivists. they have someone or a team of someones making sure that everything in the archive is *properly fucking categorized*. they have someone or multiple someones making sure that everything they recieve (1) belongs there and (2) is properly labeled and organized. same for libraries. meaning that if ao3 really were an archive and not a sub par fanfiction website, they’d have something like that in place. something as simple as a report button for fics with a review team that will see if something’s been mis- or untagged. they’d have some kind of standardization of tags (especially the warning / trigger tags) and have proper tagging enforced in some way. and then they could also do something like stop being spineless racists, queerphobes, and pedos have the barest minimum of content guidelines saying that you can’t post fucking hate speech.

if something is mistagged or untagged, the most you can do is leave a comment politely asking that the author fix the issue, and then hope and pray that they do that. and if that person thinks [insert form of abuse] is hot, or if they’re just straight up a bigot that wrote bigotry into their fics to be bigoted, or they’re a troll that gets kick out of deliberately traumatizing people by tricking them into reading their mis/untagged fics, they might not! AND if you see a major tagging issue on an orphaned work, or a work that has an inactive author / hasn’t been updated in forever, good fucking luck getting even a negative response.

you can’t permanently block tags (i mean even tumblr.hell has that), meaning that if you would like to search for fic without coming across something troubling, triggering, or just something you don’t like, you have to either (1) do a work around by having a bookmarked link for every fandom you’re in or every character you like with all of your tags already blocked, (2) download browser extensions that do the work for ao3 because they can’t be bothered themselves, or (3) input every individual tag every time you search ao3 and don’t forget that all of those options only fucking work at all when everything is tagged properly, and we’ve already established its not. you also can’t actually block people (you can only prevent them from commenting) meaning that if there’s a specific person you’d like to stay away from your fics or a specific fic author that you don’t like and would like to stop seeing their fics clogging up the tag, you’re out of luck (though for the latter you could insert “-[username]” into the “search within results” box, but then uh oh we’re right back around to having to input that every time or have a bookmark)

their archive warning system is shit. first of all it’s functionally useless because, as mentioned, “creator chose not to use archive warnings” is an option. what’s the fucking point of special required archive warnings if you’re going to allow people to opt out anyway. second of all, aside from “chose not to use warnings” and “no warnings apply”, the only warnings are “major character death”, “graphic depictions of violence”, “rape/non-con”, and “underage”. disregarding the fact that they shouldn’t be allowing porn of underage characters in the first place (but i’m talking to a brick wall on that issue) and that “non-con” (and “dub-con”) as terminology needs to die, it’s just fucking rape lets not use weasel words... this is a paltry list of possible warnings. there’s no official warnings for depictions of: domestic abuse, animal abuse, depictions of racism / homophobia / transphobia / et cetera, suicide, self harm, et cetera et cetera. and we return to the issue of standardization of tags. in your required archive warnings at very least, there should be a standardization of what these mean, but ao3′s own faq is just like “ehh... you decide. we’ll leave it up to you”. what qualifies as graphic depictions of violence? two people may write the same level of violence, but qualify “graphic” differently, and make different decisions regarding their warnings. and we also return to the issue of: if a freak doesn’t see something that is clearly rape as rape, they might not tag it as such.

this website gets a disgustingly large amount of money every year that it doesn’t fucking do anything with. it’s been over a decade and they’re still in fucking beta. features that would actually be useful, like an actual block system, don’t exist. they technically have a report system for abuse and harassment and such, but apparently what they qualify as abuse and harassment is fickle. ao3 defenders seem to be very proud of the legal work they do for fandom / fanfic authors, but they set aside a very small amount of the money they get every year for legal advocacy, and they actually use even less of that, because it’s not the early 2000s “anne rice hates fanfiction” era anymore - you aren’t going to get fucking sued for writing fanfiction in the first place. based on their own self-reported yearly cost of upkeep, they literally already have enough money to run the site as they are now for the next twenty years.

once again: ao3 is not an archive. it is not a library. it is barely a even a website.

#specifically a website run by freaks #who care more about ppl's 'fannish experience' than they do ppl of color abuse survivors and the real children ppl write p!rn of #anyway here's the rant i promised in the coming days since that one post #also i know people will come at me and say that dddne DOES have a meaning its a signal that the reader knows what theyre getting into #so cant be upset if it upsets them #or something along those lines #but (1) we've already well established that the reader very likely doesn't know what they're getting into #because a lot of the shit on ao3 is untagged or mistagged #and a lot of stuff with the dddne tag specifically isnt properly tagged because authors use dddne as a catch all #and just put that down instead of actually properly tagging their work #and as mentioned the authors that use it that way use it for literally anything that might make something uncomfortable #from the sickest shit there is to a little bit of gore #and you can say that those authors (who use it without also tagging what exactly they're talking about) are using the tag incorrectly #but oopsie! that then circles back around to (2) if someone is using a tag incorrectly there's no way to deal with that #other than a comment and a prayer #i speak #anti ao3 #anti archive of our own #fandom nonsense #my monologues

[blushweddinggowns]

It was a strange feeling, walking out of the Creel house. It was unsettlingly quiet, all of the unpleasant thundering and gnashing noises of the Upside Down were just…gone. It should have felt like a relief. No noise meant no demons. Which meant they had won, right? They had won and none of them had died, why wasn’t Steve jumping for joy?

Maybe he just needed to see the kids for it to all come together. Maybe then the knot in his stomach would loosen up a bit after that. Maybe that was why he was peddling like a mad man, suddenly desperate to see everyone in one piece. 

But the closer they got to the trailer park, the more and more that knot tightened. 

He heard it before he saw it, the horrifying sound of Dustin sobbing. It made him pedal even faster, heart in his throat when he turned the corner to see a fucking horror show. 

Dustin was wailing, incomprehensible cries while he cradled an unmoving Eddie. Steve skidded to a stop, throwing the bike aside to kneel next to him, eyes wide when he realized he was kneeling in a pool of Eddie Munson’s fucking blood.

There were chunks missing out of him, enough that you could see inside of him. Steve had never wanted to know what someone else’s guts looked like, but now he had been granted the horrifying privilege to see Eddie’s, barely peeking out from his red soaked shirt. He was snow white, virtually still as Dustin clung to him. 

He looked fucking dead. 

But he was also still bleeding. Steve was no medical genius, but that had to mean something right? He was moving before he could think, retching Dustin away from him, ignoring the way he cried out in protest. He was already tearing pieces from his shirt, hands shaking as he stared at the near corpse in front of him.

"Stop crying," Steve hissed out as he started to press his makeshift bandages against his gaping wounds, "Help me stop the bleeding."

“Why?” Dustin asked, or more demanded. He wiped at his face, but it only made it more wet, red with Eddie’s blood, “He’s dead! A-And it’s my fault-”

“He’s not fucking dead yet!” Steve barked back, tearing another piece of clothing from Dustin’s shirt, “But he’s going to be if we don’t do something!”

Nancy and Robin were circling around them, finally caught up after Steve had started cycling like the wind. Steve spared them a glance, anger rising at their desolate expressions. Why was everyone already giving up? He wasn’t even cold yet. 

Steve kept working, avoiding they’re pitying expression. It was horrible, and he was fucking covered in blood, his friend’s blood. His friend who was going to die if everyone else didn’t get on fucking board. Steve wanted to gag at the overwhelming coppery smell, he wanted to cry at the sight of him laying there, but that wouldn’t help anything. That wouldn't save his life.

“Nancy, check his pulse,” Steve snapped, eyes still on Eddie. He was still warm, that had to mean something. 

Didn’t it?

Steve barely stopped himself from telling her to fuck off when she sighed at the request. Like she was just humoring him when she leaned down and pressed two fingers to his neck. But then her eyes widened.

"He has a pulse," Nancy gasped, clearly shocked, “Weakest thing I’ve ever felt but it’s there.”

That small amount of hope was enough to get Dustin tearing up again, but they didn’t have time for that. Steve barely spared him a glance when he barked at him, too focused on trying to make it semi feasible to move him, “Is that good enough for you? Now fucking help me!”

It was enough to get Dustin out of his grief-induced stupor, and finally he was helping tie the cloth across his ribs. It was a slapped ass job, but it was going to have to be enough. No amount of shitty first aid they could do would fix this. He needed a hospital and Steve was going to get him there if it killed him. 

He hoisted him up in his arms, still barking orders to the rest of them. He was uncomfortably light, and Steve came to the horrifying realization pretty quickly that that was because he was missing probably more than half of his blood. But he wasn’t dead yet. That’s what mattered. 

He basically had to throw him up through the portal and pray that Robin and Nancy would actually catch him. But they did, and they were out, and then Steve was taking him back into his arms and sprinting to the car. He barely even had the wherewithal to realize just how fucked everything else was, but when he finally got Eddie situated in the backseat, his mind was open enough to noticethe glowing, orange cracks in the earth, it made him ill for a completely different reason. 

He turned to Nancy and Robin, voice tight, “Find Max and Lucas. Make sure they’re okay. Dustin, come with me.”

He had never been this bossy in his entire damn life, but he wasn’t stopping now. And no one was arguing with him. Instead the girls went straight for the bikes, no time for comments on the fact that they had walked into the damn apocalypse.  He pushed Dustin into the backseat, with firm orders that he kept pressure on the worst of his gaping wounds. 

Steve did some pretty questionable shit while driving to the hospital, but it’s not like he had a choice. The roads were ruined with literal cracks to hell, so if he had to drive through some people’s front yards, sue him. And if a few mailboxes were also taken out, then fuck it. 

Eddie mattered more. 

He was colder when Steve lifted him from the backseat, and for a terrifying moment Steve was near sure he was dead. But he didn’t dwell, too busy sprinting inside the hospital, grateful that Dustin was doing all of the talking for him.

Or more like screaming. Screaming for help, voice loud and near shrill in the quiet of the hospital. The place was still running thank christ, and it wasn’t even that busy. Or at least not yet. But Steve had a feeling that the earth shattering beneath their feet had left more than a few casualties. They were just the lucky ones to make it in first. 

The next thing he knew he was setting Eddie down on a gurney, and he was being wheeled away. But they hadn’t taken one look at him and declared him dead, so that had to mean something, right?

Steve didn’t know. All of that fury driven optimism about Eddie surviving being eaten alive as starting to die out. He felt fucking ill, and the only thing that had been keeping his focus was gone to fight for his life in an operating room.

Dustin slumped down onto a waiting room couch, head in his hands as he took some deep breaths. Steve sat next to him, cringing when he realized he was going to stain the fabric. He was disgusting, coated in a layer of blood, sweat, grime, and probably some tears in a second here. He barely fucking knew Eddie, but he did know he didn’t deserve to die. 

He didn’t need to know him long to realize that he was kind. And funny, and honestly handled the whole interdimensional monster thing like a champ. He was sweet, in a weird, dickish kind of way. The same type of sweetness that had him shepherding the nerdy trio under his wing. He was smart enough to know how to hotwire a car, brave enough to risk dying to protect all of them, stupid enough to not realize the value of his own life. 

Why him? Why did all of this shit have to happen to him? What did he ever do to deserve this? What did any of them do besides the crime of being forced to live in Hawkins, Indiana? 

“Is he going to die?” Dustin asked, voice muffled through his hands.

Probably. That would have been the logical answer. It was shocking that he wasn’t dead yet. It would be a miracle if he survived through the night, let alone ever hoping for him to be back to himself. 

But Steve was never one for cold logic.

“No,” he answered, voice shaky. He wrapped an arm around Dustin’s shoulder, praying to any god out there that he was right, “We got him here in time. He’s going to be okay.”

There was zero evidence for that. Zero reason to actually believe the bullshit coming out of Steve’s mouth. But it felt true. And that was good enough for Dustin. He nodded, sniffling a little into his hands. They sat in heavy silence, just waiting for some news. Any news.

"I'm sorry, for earlier," Steve said eventually, hugging Dustin a little tighter to his side, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

Dustin shrugged, "You were right though. Crying didn’t help anything."

“Still-”

“If he lives, you’ll have nothing to be sorry about,” Dustin interrupted, eyes on the ground, “And you said he’s gonna live. So there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Steve wanted to argue. To correct himself, to beg Dustin not to put all his hope into some dumb shit that came out of his mouth. But he didn’t have the time, because there was a whole new round of screaming from voices that he recognized. 

Both of them stood, wasting no time in running towards the sound of Lucas and Robin yelling for help. Though the sight of Max was enough to stop Steve in his tracks. She was already being set on a stretcher, completely limp, almost peaceful if you didn’t look too close. But when you did, you could see how her bones were fucked up, fractures on the edge of poking through the skin. 

If Steve wasn’t crying before, he sure as fuck was now. He looked to Lucas, sight already blurring, “Is she…?”

“She’s breathing,” Lucas sniffled, eyes never leaving the stretcher as she was wheeled away, “Jason almost killed her, but she’s breathing.”

Steve nodded, not asking for more details. They could wait, at least for right now. She wasn’t dead, and that’s all that mattered. And Lucas looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown. Who wouldn’t be, after seeing someone you love have all of their bones broken by a fucking demon wizard. Steve pulled him into a hug, thanking him for keeping her as safe as he could. 

It was probably the most disgusting hug in Lucas’s life, but he clung right back to him, sobbing into his shoulder. 

The five of them ended up hunkering down in the waiting room, silently watching as it slowly began to fill up with more and more people. News about Max came around first. They had pulled Robin aside, wrongly assuming a familial relation. Max was alive and stable. Breathing on her own, which was supposed to be a good sign. She was just in a coma. With minimal brain function. Robin was barely able to choke that last part out before falling into a fit of tears. 

But they were at least allowed to see her. They all migrated into her room, and the sight of her alive and breathing was enough for Lucas to finally allow himself to sleep. He pulled a chair as close to the bed as he could, reaching out to hold her hand before curling in on himself. He was asleep within minutes. And Robin and Dustin weren’t too far behind. Nancy was perched on the only other chair, the three of them opting to sit against the wall. Steve was in the middle, and eventually the both of them used his shoulder as a pillow, sandwiching him in between them as they slept.

Steve didn’t mind, even if it was uncomfortable. If anything it was comforting, to be enveloped by two of the people he loved most in the world. But he couldn’t sleep, despite his exhaustion. He refused to sleep, not until he knew if Eddie was still alive or not. 

Nancy wasn’t sleeping either. She was just watching, quiet as her gaze flicked all around the room. She landed on staring at the wall behind Steve’s head. 

“I’m tired of people dying,” She said eventually, nearly whispering to not wake any of them up, “I’m so damn tired of it Steve. I’m fucking sick of it.”

Steve leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he whispered back,“I know.”

“What did Eddie ever do to deserve this? Or Max, or Chrissy, or Heather, or Barb, or all of the other poor fucks who suffered because of this hellhole. Even fucking Billy didn't deserve what he got. When will it stop?”

Steve was pretty sure he had never heard her curse this much since he’d known her. He kind of liked it. Nancy had always been a bit of an enigma, always had this strange sense of mystery around her. But hearing her fed up and tired of the hell that was their lives was oddly humanizing. It reminded Steve how he fell in love with her in the first place.

He brought his eyes down from the ceiling to look at her, a small sad smile on his face. “I don’t know.”

Nancy stood from her chair, hair wild and eyes blazing, way too energetic for someone who went through what they all just went through. She walked over until she was in front of Steve, kneeling down so they were face to face,“I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

She reached for one of his hands, grasping it tightly in between both of hers,“Promise me we won’t die here. Neither of us. Swear to me.”

Steve stared at her, eyes stuck on their clasped hands. Seventeen hours ago Steve would have been pretty ecstatic about Nancy choosing to be this close to him, but this didn’t feel romantic. He just felt obligated. But not in a bad way, it just felt big. Bigger than their non-existent relationship. He felt like she was seeing right through him because she was right. He didn’t want to die in this pit. He didn’t want to live here forever, in constant fear that hell would open back up at any time. He didn’t want to be here anymore, he didn’t want any of them too. He wished this whole hellhole would just be condemned and quarantined, then no one else would have to suffer in it. 

He took a deep breath, looking her square in the eye, “I swear we won’t die in Hawkins, Indiana. Neither of us. When we’re in our nineties and die peacefully of old age, the longest living will have to go out of state for the funeral. ”

“Deal,” She gave his hand one last squeeze before curling back up in her chair, almost like the whole exchange had never happened. But that was just Nancy. She was weird like that, going from scarily intense back to neutrally calm in a nanosecond. 

It didn’t take long before he heard the soft sound of Nancy snoring in her chair, leaving Steve completely alone with nothing but his thoughts. 

She didn’t used to be like that when they were dating. Or maybe she was but she hid it from him, trying to play her part as his loving girlfriend while hiding all of her odd quirks. She used to hide a lot of things from him, and for the first time Steve wondered if he ever even got the opportunity to love her. The real her. Or if he’d just been pining after a fantasy for years. 

He wondered if they would ever be together like that again, or if that dream of an RV full of kids would ever come into fruition. It felt so small now, sitting in this hospital room with one of his favorite people hooked up to a million machines, bones shattered.

 He wasn’t even sure if it was his dream, or if it was just a dream of normalcy. Doing all of the things he was expected to do. Get married, have kids, be happy. And if he couldn’t do that with Nancy, who could he do it with? How else was he going to manage to be normal after all of this, if that was off the table? Maybe he’d just have to accept that he never would be. Maybe it was time for a new dream. And for now, Steve was fine with it being something as simple as not dying in Hawkins Indiana. It would do. 

He wondered if that dream could be expanded into no one else dying in Hawkins, Indiana. His mind wandered back to Eddie, how cold he’d been, how still. Maybe that could be added in. Max Mayfield and Eddie Munson, not dying here. Anywhere but here. 

Dustin used to tell him about how much Eddie wanted to leave. He talked about it nearly everyday, and anything Eddie talked about Dustin would repeat to Steve, because in the span of a couple months the guy had become his idol. That had been his plan the whole time. Get his diploma and bounce, and never look back. And he deserved to have that. 

They all did. And maybe, just maybe, they could have it. He wasn’t dead yet, right? That’s all that mattered. And Steve would repeat that to himself until he actually believed it. Steve let his head thunk back against the wall. And then he did the only thing he could do, he closed his eyes and waited. 

snippet from this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #nancy wheeler #the perfect loving nightmare #alternate universe #tw blood #tw injuries #just putting up sfw (minus injury) from an ao3 fic #tw gore is slightly mentioned #i like this part :) #might post the second part as well but they are long as fuck #you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands

[a-canceled-stamp]

Whumptober 2023 - dialogue

Day 1. Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Characters; pairings: Tim, Jason; Tim & Jason

Setting: the manor. In my mind it’s a “Tim is adopted early” AU but can be read differently.

✧˖°.🪐⋆｡°✩

“Hey, hold up!”

“Leave me alone, Jason.”

“What the hell? You can’t just walk away from this!”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big—you passed out!”

“…only a little.”

“Are you kidding? You were out. Like, fully. Lights out, nobody’s home, the whole shebang. I swear, you even stopped breathing at one point.”

“Okay, that’s an exaggeration. You’re being dramatic.”

“Dude, I had to catch you. If anyone’s being dramatic, it’s you. Literally swooning into my arms.”

“Jason—“

“Listen, I’m just stating the facts. And the facts are, you gotta start taking more care of yourself.”

“I do!”

“Oh really? When was the last time you ate?”

“…you know what, I don’t have to answer any do you questions if I don’t want to.”

“Aha! See? Wait, come on, stop trying to walk away from this, man.”

“Come on, why can’t you just—“

“No. We need to get some nutrients in you, stat. Maybe some gatorade just to get your blood sugar up. Or maybe water first?”

“Jason, I don’t—”

“No, don’t you get it? I’ve had enough of this, alright? Now stand there and don’t move. If you try to run I swear to god I will burn your Tony Hawk poster.”

“…”

“Yeah, I ain’t fucking around. Now, Alfred’s gotta have some bars or shakes around here somewhere. If not I’ll make you a goddamn omelet if I have to. Seriously, Tim, this is ridiculous.”

“Uh, Jason? I think I—“

“Shut your yap. ‘It’s not a big deal’ my ass. News flash: passing out while walking up the stairs is not normal.”

“Jason, I, I think I might—“

“God, what the hell is Bruce even doing. World’s greatest detective and can’t even notice that his own kid is—hey what are you—oh shit.”

✧˖°.🪐⋆｡°✩

#I really wanted to contribute to Whumptober 2023 but literally had 0 time for it #so I thought I’d just write shorter drabbles - but keep it to dialogue only #Allows me to practice and put my fav blorbos into situations without it taking as much time out of my real life shenanigans :D #Might post these on Ao3 but we’ll see #Also this turned out more cracky than whumpy but oh well #Jason Todd #Tim drake #whumptober #drabble #fic #batman #batfam #jason & tim #day 1 #oneshot

[rainofthetwilight]

alright so ive decided the first three chapters of as the years pass by are getting rewritten!!

updates with each will be slow, but ill try to somehow release them all at once to not confuse things since there are some things i need to add, plus i realized how i wasnt actually focusing on jenna and ethan properly so yeah a rewrite here we come lmao

#ninjago #ninjago au #astheyearspassby #atypb #levi's ted talks #levi's writing #will put this on ao3 rn #since they really do need a rewrite #theyll definitelyy take a long while esp with other wips but hey theyll be out eventually! #of course there are also things that ill keep but ive been thinking of adding and changing stuff yk what i mean #which means i also have ch4 to start over once i finish those 3 #*sigh* well i put myself up to this lmao #another multichapter story (the lostshipping fic) is also coming up so i think ill be focusing a little more on that first and on atypb #at the same time somehow #but with my lack of free time itll be a hella slow process #ill try to post the ref sheets of jenna and ethan first too #its like if im posting the fic again yk what i mean #i also might add their designs in the future too bc theyre still kids here #ninjago dragons rising #sorry if anyone was waiting for ch4 :")) #ill try to write it along with the rewrites #so the release date between the two wouldnt be too big #watch my freetime go “fuck you”

[jacks-the-flower]

darling i just can't get you out of my head, your scent lingers in my old jumper

~~~~~~

It was so elusive, so mind-boggling. It put her brain on the edge of an idea and her tongue ready to burst out with the answer.

Hang on, was that her old perfume?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a peculiar thing, something so familiar yet so unanticipated. She caught it at the edge of her own perception, sweetly reaching her senses with a dubious flair. It was something she knew well, something that she knew a little too well. What was it? It was right there for her to grasp, but the concept was elusive. Perhaps there was too much going on around her.

She stood before him, simultaneously at home and exposed. What would he think of her now? Did he remember her? Did he still believe in the end of that sentence? Why did he change? Was he alone? What was that smell?

Now she understood it, the floral scent of her past. Her past with him. But why was she discerning it now? Was it the reminder of everything, of what she’d had with him, what they had been? Unless…

She approached him slowly, artfully prowling towards him, making herself known yet advancing calmly and disarmingly. There was no need for her curiosity to scare him off. 

She stopped a few feet away from him, drawn in by her own scent. It wasn’t her scent anymore, however, it was his. It mingled with his own various aromas; the wool coat, the leather polish on his hands and shoes, the grease from the TARDIS, what must be numerous hair gel products he’d used. His scent was quite unique, yes, but under all of that: her. 

“Are you going to say anything?”

Her golden brown eyes flickered to his own green-tinged ones. She’d never thought that any other pairs of eyes would be as entrancing, or scents for that matter. Somehow this version was the most intoxicating, boyish but ancient and venerable, something new in ways that she hadn’t experienced from him. When she looked into his eyes, she saw an openness that hadn’t been there. He was somehow, simultaneously, more guarded than she’d ever seen him, and yet more open to her.

“Am I- is it… good different? Bad different?”

His eyes grew worried and lines started to appear in assent with his fears, she supposed it was now time to say something, “You’ve been using my soaps.”

He gave a light chuckle at that, bowing his head a little in confirmation, “Yes well, I had to, well I- I had to…” he stammered uncertainly, “keep you with me somehow.” He looked back up at her, “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve been, well…” he paused before blurting out, “I’ve been using your room.”

She raised her brows, he what?

“Well some nights, I’m in the hammock; lovely things hammocks, quite comfortable.” 

Ah, a familiar habit. He did so love a good babble, in both of the bodies she knew. Though her first one seemed to prefer it from her while she was cross with someone. He’d had beautiful blue eyes then, though his new green ones were just as gorgeous. He smelt of leather polish in that face too. 

She slowly pulled her hand up, sweeping along the hem of his coat on its way.

“I erm, I can move back out if you’d like,” she kept moving ever so slowly, brushing over his hearts, enjoying his impatient jitters, “who am I kidding of course you’d like me to move out of your very own, very personal room. That’s,” he gasped out as she pressed her hand against his cheek, drawing circles behind his ear, taking in the details of his new face, “that’s just common sense. In fact, it was wrong of me to take up residence in the first place, what was I even thinking? Stupid Doctor, never thinking about what you want.”

And with that, she was thrust back into uncomfortable memories; moments where they were so close, but separated by a wall of fear and uncertainty. Now isn’t that a funny comparison.

Her hand had stilled and she brought it down to caress his chin, “If I’m allowed back, I can’t do that again, Doctor.”

He stepped impossibly closer to her, knocking her hand down to his chest where she could feel his hammering double-heart rate, and reached up to cup both sides of her face with his hands, staring intensely into her eyes, “It was never, ever an if, Rose Tyler. It was always a matter of when.”

She peered into his eyes, searching for the deceit, the lie to placate her. She found nothing but determination and adoration. He looked amazed, presumably at her, his eyes drifting over her features; she’d almost call it reverent. Did he still have that much faith in her? After all of this time?

“How long has it been, Doctor?” she questioned softly, lips moving faster than her mind. 

His eyes dimmed, skirting from her face, and he withdrew his hands from her cheeks. She missed them.

He retreated in on himself slightly, stepping back and slouching down, bringing his arms in close, wringing his hands. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She missed them too.

“It’s difficult to place exactly, but my guess is around three-hundred, three-hundred ‘n fifty, years.” It was a painful thing to imagine, but not a surprising one. He was older.

Then again so was she.

She couldn't help her regret in not finding him sooner. Centuries had passed and they had to move forward. It changed them. “I’m so sorry, Doctor; I’m so late,” she told him mournfully.

He smiled bitterly at that, still looking to the side, “Something tells me I’m late too,” he said, green eyes finally looking at hers once again. She understood immediately; there was always something of the wolf about her. Though wolves don’t tend to live as long.

He faced her fully again, gazing at her with a great jumble of emotions, “I suppose we’re a bit more evenly matched now, not that we weren’t before but…” At that, his eyes grew more pained and guilt-ridden, conveying what she thought was an apology. Those eyes were always quite expressive weren’t they.

She approached him once more, this time she snaked both of her hands around his neck, his own moving to rest on her hips. She fixed her eyes directly on to his, trying to convey as much love and determination as she could, “You’ve got my forever, Doctor, do I have yours?”

He drew her in closer, resting their foreheads together, “I think you’ve always had my forever, Rose,” he took a deep breath in, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She took her own breath in, cataloging his new scent of antiquities and floral soap. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, before confessing, “I love you.”

She knew what would happen next, he never gets to finish his sentence. She was fine with that, content even, only knowing that he felt so much for her. It didn’t have to be said.

“I love you too, Rose Tyler.”

She snapped her eyes open, flitting over his face – nose, hair, ears, cheeks, eyebrows - before settling on his eyes; his ever expressive, blue-then-brown-now-green eyes. He was fixed on to her, transfixed on her face, her own eyes. Amazed, relieved, and genuine all at once. It was not the platitude that she might have expected, it was a truth in the way he looked at her, held her in his arms, caressed her features. In the way that he used her old soaps and slept in her room, three-hundred something years after she was gone. 

“Yeah?” She felt a weight lift from her chest, something she’d never known about. She felt herself brighten and she smiled at him, giddy with the new revelation. She always knew he loved her, but now she believed it.

“Yeah,” He followed suit, lips growing wider and wider, toothier and toothier. It was a marvelous sight for a face so marred by regret and guilt to be so openly happy, so openly in love. She found that it was intoxicating. She found him intoxicating.

Every bit of him - clothes, cadence, scent, hair, freckles - was fascinating and new, but intensely familiar in ways she wasn’t sure he'd readily admit. She found herself loving him all over again.

She always fell right back in love, even when he changed faces and preferences. She just grew to cherish each and every new characteristic and quirk. Like the eyes that were staring at her. Like the lips curved into a small, fond smile.

She slowly raked her eyes up from his lips, leisurely gliding over his features. His eyes were heavy-lidded, no doubt from watching her sultry show. She saw the same feelings that she had reflected within herself; attraction, fondness, intoxication, and love. 

He leaned his head down and she tilted hers up, moving in a familiarity they shared in their old lives. When their lips met, she realized that this was in fact so wonderfully new. They were not so young back then to not have shared a kiss between them, but this one was different. Different in the way they held a tenderness between them instead of stunted longing. Different in the way they embraced each other with care and affection. Different in the way they could taste the devotion and determination they’d been too fearful to commit to. 

His tongue flicked out along her bottom lip and she opened up to him fully, one hand threading through his hair. His left hand slowly traveled up from her hip to the small of her back, nails grazing her skin. The physical and mental effect it had on her caused her to gently pull back for air; the bridges of their noses resting together, their hands in wandered places. 

She had taken a few moments of stillness before realizing how mentally connected they had become. A soft presence was intermingled with her mind, sharing in her love and admiration as they became closer than they previously dared. 

She opened her eyes and found him, his own eyes already wide and fixed on hers. She smiled softly and sent a warm wave of emotions to him, focussing on reassurance and determination as well as tenderness and adoration.

He breathed out a short puff, breaking out into another disbelieving smile. He brought the hand from her hip up to her cheek and kissed her again, this time with excitement and enthusiasm. His tongue dipped into her mouth again, energetically brushing over the back of her teeth and soft palate. A small laugh bubbled up from her chest and he pulled back, sharing in her euphoria.

He settled back down, loosening his hold to a comfortable embrace. “Am I dreaming?” he breathed out.

She hummed at him, “That depends, what would your dream say?”

“No.” he said, shaking his head slightly.

She smirked thoughtfully, tilting her head to mock-think, “Then yes,” she decided, giving him a tongue-touched smile that she knew made his mind misfire. And misfire it did, if the stumbling rush of consciousness brushing against her was anything to go by.

He rocked forward excitedly, before pausing, eyes alight with mirth, “Well hang on now, is that a yes to me dreaming or a yes in contrast to what my dream would say?”

She just smiled wider, “Can I stick around and find out?”

“Darling, you,” he kissed both of her cheeks, before looking right at her, genuinely, “can move in with me.”

She felt giddy at that, sharing it across their connection, but outwardly maintaining her playful demeanor, “Weeeell,” she drawled out, “your home is pretty big, infinite, you could say.”

He chuckled, holding her tight, “That she is.”

He slowed for a moment, taking a deep breath, before looking at her in earnest, “Be there when I wake up?” he asked hopefully.

She reached up a hand to brush his hair, giving him a fond smile and a caress of conviction and certainty. 

“Forever.”

#this is also on my ao3 #as a disclaimer #i have basically the same user though so #i might put it on my ff.net too who knows #doctor who #rose tyler #eleventh doctor #eleven x rose #elevenrose #with mentions of #ninerose #tenrose #don't ask me where or when this is set because i have no clue #is rose immortal? #dunno man #yes the title seems very doctor pov instead of rose #but well #you see #i suck with titles so #its fine thumbs up #timepetals #the doctor #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #i hope you enjoyed ^.^ #<3 #also that gradient text took me way too long to figure out

[burgycreeper405-blog]

Rex meets a new f̴̜̣̻̃͊̆̾̈́̓̃͜r̶̫̰̰͌͝i̵̹͉̗͚͊͐̉̌̽̌̅ẻ̸̹̼̬̖̆̒̋̓̐͜͝͠ǹ̸̜̼͕͆̋͠ḋ̷͑̈̍̚

•

•

•

About two months later after Rex's redemption

Rex is just walkin around town, basically going home, but then as he was about to pass by an alley, he suddenly hears crying nearby.

He went up to the alley near the dumpster and he sees a child crying, all alone

And bcuz he was trying to prove himself that he's a hero or just a good person, he crouched down to the child and asked him a question, "Hey, kid.. are you okay? Where are your parents?"

The child flinches and looks up, after a few seconds, he answered, "..I-I got separated from my parents.. I don't know where they are..."

Rex nods, "What's your name, kid?" "..Colvin.. my name is Colvin."

"Okay Colvin, do you know where you live? I can come with you to keep you safe."

Colvin nods, "..y-yes"

Rex stands up and offers him his hand. Colvin grabs his hand and stands up.

Colvin tugged his arm to follow him into the alley

"..Your-.. your house is through there..?" Rex nervously asks, hopefully the kid didn't notice

The kid simply nods and tugs his arm once again to follow him through. Rex has a bad feeling about this, but he just shrugged it off, he must do this for the kid's safety... they just need to walk through this dark alley... simple enough...

•

•

•

After a few minutes of walking and the surroundings slowly but surely getting dark, he once again asks the kid, "Hey kid.. are-.. are you sure your house is through here..?"

Colvin didn't answer, he just nods and continues walking, still holding Rex's hand. He sure has a bad feeling about this, but he just shoved it down...

•

•

•

Another few more minutes of walking in a seemingly endless dark alley, Rex asks him once again, but this time, Colvin starts to tighten his grip on rex's hand he's holding, tighten enough to actually make Rex flinch and feel a bit hurt which he does not expect at all.

No one, especially this child, is stronger than him(?!).. (or maybe there is....) his bad feelings were starting to turn out right.

Before he can even think about what to do, he got pulled down with strength which he never thought someone can have that can best him, and lands on the ground.

Though, when he got up, he was in a different place, the sky is black, and a floor that is bright colored glowing red.

He looked around trying to search for something he doesn't know, and then suddenly, he hears a voice behind him in the distance, "Hello Rex"

"Kid?! Wh- How did you know my name-?! What happened!? Where are we?!" Rex shouts at him.

Colvin giggles, "Oh, the questions... Isn't it obvious? We're in your mind. Oh wait, I forgot, you never had any original thought in your entire life,.. isn't that right? No wonder you don't know what's happening."

"..Wh-What are you taking about-?! Who are you!?"

Colvin slowly walks towards him "Oh, you really do have no idea whatsoever. Did you already forgot? I told you my name didn't I?"

Rex began to back away as Colvin walks towards him, but then he teleports behind Rex, and whispers, "I'm your worst nightmare!"

•

•

•

Rex suddenly woke up in a cold sweat.

He looked around and finds that he's in his room, seeing the clock at 9am.

He tried to steady his breathing and rethinks back to his dream... nightmare...

He then got up from bed and head out of his room, walked to the living room, seeing Lucy and Emmet just sitting down, chatting.

Emmet noticed him and greets him, "Oh morning Rex! How's your sleep today?"

Rex was quiet for a second before answering, ".. Its.. Its alright I guess.." he smiled a bit trying to hide his uneasiness.

Emmet smiled as well, guess he didn't noticed, or maybe Emmet just shrugged it off, he then heads to the bathroom.

end...

#burg art #burgy talks #the lego movie #the lego movie 2 #tlm au #tlm superhero au #rex dangervest #tlm oc #yes i posted this on my wattpad #but tumblr is much more cooler so i posted it here as well #i mean look at them colors! #anyways before you say or ask stuff #yes i know ao3 #i already tried to make an account but i just don't have the patience #and or i just cant keep up with it unlike wattpad #anyways here's sum ✨lore✨ #burgy comics #oh yeah and I can't put the video on Wattpad so might as well just post it here on tumblr #look that took me a long time to edit #so yeah the poll on twitter is basically useless :P

[wygolvillage]

i feel like a lot of arguments over Internet Platforms could be solved by simply rejecting platforms entirely and hosting everything on your own website. but a lot of people dont want to learn html i suppose

#like i think once i stopped thinking about the internet in terms of Platforms To Exist On i realized that i dont have to put up with shit #you know???? #like thats kinda why i moved everything from ao3 since i was personally dissatisfied with it #and i saw a post today about the logistics of increasing moderation on ao3 and i dont like how the conclusion was #'this is the best its gonna get without doing some insane worker exploitation and everything else sucks so you might as well just use ao3' #like. no you dont have to use anything just make your own website.... #same with arguments like 'you have to be fine with tumblr shoving ads and merch down your throat every 2 seconds because its the only good- #-platform left!!! where will we go if tumblr shuts down!!!'

[drewsaturday]

Divine

For stricklakerottober 2022.

Angor had once thought–had been forced to think–that he knew what it meant to be holy. He had served a goddess, stood beneath her glow, begged her own greatness to elevate him because he was incomplete on his own.

Her power swept life through his veins, her essence painted every thought. He was fully, wholly, hers. A follower, a disciple, but more than a simple underling.

Had he not proven himself far more worthy than any pawn? Had he not earned the right to rule by her side? 

He had not. And he had been a fool to try.  

In seeking her approval, he had forgotten all that had come before the days of carrying out her bidding, of carving into his own flesh to provide her will with the tools it sought. His worship had not been of a sound mind, but of an eternal hunger to fill the emptiness she had been the one to gouge.

It had taken centuries too long to recognize that Morgana had never been divine at all. Magical, yes, but divine? No. He had known no divinity in his centuries upon the earth… at least, not until as of late.

Divinity was not soul-stolen servitude. 

Divinity was being whole; and Angor had grown so used to emptiness that this opposing sensation filling his chest had been long forgotten in the sea of time. 

Divinity was choice, he thought as he sat perched on the Lake house's roof beneath moonlight, ready to lunge at any creature that so much as glanced through the window the wrong way.  

Barbara slept inside. Barbara, who had accepted him into her home, who had provided him a place at her table whether he took it or not. Barbara, whose light shone upon all who entered her home without any sacrifice expected in return… not that this had stopped him trying in the early days.

Rain began to fall from the cloudy night's sky, cool water washing over the roots and stone of his ancient body. 

After some time, a window slid open behind him.

"Angor?" Stricklander asked. "For heaven's sake, come inside."

Angor squinted out into the street past the shower of rain. "I have faced worse.” 

"You know better than anyone I would much prefer you staying there," Stricklander said with an underlying lightness. "But Barbara will never let me hear the end of it if I let you sit out in the storm."

Living beside Stricklander had not been easy at first, especially for Barbara in her attempts to ensure they did not murder one another. However, they had somehow survived each other long enough to recognize that this house was incomplete without the other.

Neither of them would ever admit to this, but emptiness was not a feeling Angor ever hoped to experience again, be it within the walls of his ribcage or the walls of this dwelling. 

Perhaps the true miracle was that, despite Barbara being sound asleep, her influence had been strong enough to allow this. She had changed them both, but not with force; with something else. 

And so, after another sweep of the perimeter, Angor swung down from the roof, dragged his feet along the "Welcome" mat as he'd been taught, and entered the walls of their home. 

#trollhunters tag #stricklakerottober2022 #stricklakerot #probs not gonna put this on ao3 bc i rly wanted to do some angor studies first and like.... make this feel less disjointed but ! #it is friday so i might as well toss this into the mix over here whether it works or not #toafics #ogtoa

[seventh-district]

wow!!! nothing better than watching your AO3 subscribers stat go down every time you post a new chapter of your current fic!!!

#/sarcastic btw. i am. Not happy about this recent development #Seven.txt #writing stuff #ao3 #like. don't get me wrong i do understand why and i can't fault anyone and i'm not like.. Mad. but it does hurt a lil #but alas. tis the nature of creating and posting things. not everything's gonna be received well and that's fine #it does suck to see a fic i put so much time and effort and love and part of myself into flopping so hard #not because i wrote it for anyone's sake other than my own #but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want people to enjoy the things i create. that's like. a normal and common desire #and i think i maybe killed it before it could get going with how i tagged it and the bigass disclaimer at the beginning #i think those turn a lot of ppl off that might otherwise read and maybe even find that they enjoy it?? #but i would rather over-warn ppl for the triggering and non-canon aspects than under-warn them and potentially trigger or upset someone #and i can't blame ppl that subscribed for some Other thing when they open their email and see a notif that i posted smthn #and it's a mile of upsetting/negative sounding tags for a fic abt a guy they either don't know or don't wanna see mischaracterized #and so of course they unsub and that's okay. it's okay. #anyways. enough bitching abt my fic not doing well. i don't have much room to complain! #most of my stuff is fairly well received imo. so i can stand to have a flop fic every once in a while. gotta balance things out lmao #the good thing is it's already fully written so the lack of engagement can't stop me!! there's no motivation to kill! it's done already! #anyways. i'll post a chapter a day as planned and then it'll be out of my system in a week and i can post other stuff again finally #next up will be an [N]MbD oneshot. then i'll finally post the Dew Ghost Band OCD fic. then another [N]MbD oneshot ehehe #and thennn ES Ch.5! fucking finally. i can't wait to continue that story #the Dew fic is a oneshot too btw. once AEIWNF is fully posted then the only multi-chapter project i'll have is ES. and that's Enough

[hajimariwaquartet]

hi tumblr, this has been bothering me since i got this but any idea if this is a scam or not? i genuinely think it's a scam but there's an actual server????? anyone wanna give me some thoughts on this

#ao3 #fanfic #webnovel #i posted this on twt as well but i figured i might put it here too #scam likely?????

[transingthoseformers]

I am vividly reminded that as of the current timeline, around nearly years have passed since the unicron arc up until let's say the start of the Tarn and Fallen fiasko. This got much longer than expected, and i admit this isn't new information but a collection of previously established information organized into a timeline because uwu time periods. I will heavily rely on @ivycorp 's contributions, as I'm gonna be real they're the reason the TFP au exists, are very great at writing, and pretty much the coowner of this au.

(Technically, I wasn't going to include this, but Hazard arrived very shortly after the cosmic rust plague episode and a little bit after when Megatron woke up. This is because they are a fucking bloodhound when it comes to plagues and chemical weaponry.)

Orion was on the Nemesis in the Orion arc for, let's say three at minimum five maximum? months. [Remembering our forgotten games happens at some point in here, happens at some point around here, and I'm betting this becomes a whole hidden thing for a lot of the Orion arc— this will have consequences] About halfway through this the Elite triad arrives and there's a whole emotional thing once Optimus regains his memories and comes back.

Their little extra spicy dance lasted a While before Soundwave's revenge began, before that the Decepticons got more attached to earth culture, I would also say that lasted around six months enough for the 'cons to get used to Megatron's flustered and horny antics. So that places us at around eleven months max?

At the beginning of Optimus's emotional renaissance and increasingly awkward battles is when Dreadwing arrives and almost immediately fucks off into the woods. Soundwave bridges Arachnid into the Atlantic ocean to rust at the bottom of the sea, she survives on the Harbinger for a while, finds the Insecticons as she has a bridge key, and fucks off into the middle of Australia to set up the hive (which becomes very energon lucrative) Wheeljack arrived with Dreadwing, and stays around a little longer with Boyfriend Bulkhead than canon.

More towards the mid mark, Shockwave is revealed to be very alive and comes down on Earth. He drags a half baked Predaking with him, to nobody's knowledge just yet. [About when Colleagues with very enjoyable benefits is set] Juncee begins here with Sweet and Tenative Hope and it's so goddamn sweet. Pharma (and very quickly Tarn and the DJD) around the mid mark finds his way onto Earth on an escape pod actually. [This is when Rival Exes who at least pretend not to have feelings with each other happens uwu] He's very stern on Not leaving the base, and eventually everyone picks up the vibe that he's got unpleasant history with Tarn. Nobody questions this just yet, and we focus more on the Breakout, Megop, and continuing Ratchma antics. [Permanent honeymoon is placed in this section] This is around when the vehicon couple who had ran during season one and lived on the downed Eros get caught and offlined.

Closer to the end of the spicy battlefield dance arc, Everyone's starting to get very tired of the exponentially increasing Battlefield Megop. This is actually the first time the humans witness Megatron with a visor and when ge finally gets to pin Optimus— and then proceeds to get struck by lightning. They do not see Megs with a visor again for quite a while, because he's a stubborn asshole and forgets them more often then not. [And they were exes at war (oh my god they were exes at war!) Is placed here]. Exactly pretty much immediately after that are the events of [Megatron & his servo], which begins the glorious Soundwave's revenge arc!

[This is when I mention that Following the pull that bound us together (I will not let go) by far spans the most time, starting somewhat before Orion first heard of Megatronus alllllllll the way until the night after the fateful comm call that lead to the Soundwave's revenge arc lol]

The whole Tarn fanfiction ordeal likely started around when the guy first arrived and decided to turn in fics instead of reports. The domino effect of Soundwave and Starscream saying nothing of this for a while, KO and Breakdown learning through a loopy seeker and sharing unofficial information on the GC, Tarn turning in more fics, and eventually Star being allowed onto the GC and he comes bestowing an absolute archive of Megatarnma fics— of which Fowler immediately sees and that's hilarious. Quickly at the start of Soundwave's revenge arc, Megatron (who is distinctly not in the GC) has so many backlogged reports to do under Soundwave's supervision and this is when he learns of the fanfiction. Tarn, who is also not in the GC, spends quite a while longer completely ignorant of anyone knowing of his secret fantasy love triangle. [Detailed in the events of Tarn's imaginary love life - and the repercussions of his self-insert fanfiction] Let's be real this is another reason nobody on the Nemesis likes Tarn.

The Soundwave's revenge arc lasted a good four weeks. The Soundwave's revenge arc (calling it this is more if a misnomer by the end, as the revenge part fades quite a lot once they learn how much of a disaster Megatrons's internals are) is around when Miko started making a game of Houdiniing her way onto the Nemesis, naturally. Megatron is pretty much confined to the medbay for a nice while. At thr beginning of this Soundwave decides it's time to involve Swindle into this, and he arrives pretty soon as his one man ship The Hustle which is specifically customized his small stature and being fast arrives. [Quickly after this arrival I'm betting the events of Of holograms, galas, and unexpected guests happen] [This is also around when the powerpoint in Life on the Nemesis for the majority of its crew is shown, with the one vehicon that gets mentioned likely having been assigned to Hazard duty (mind the pun) in the mid to end spicy battlefield dance arc] Also among events is Dreadwing's rather gory death via the DJD, with bits of him being left across multiple countries.

At the three week mark Megatron gets his quarters back, and this only lasts three days. Then which Starscream half blows herself up live on stream thanks to Megatron's little problem distracting her. Megatron's newly returned private Quarters privileges get revoked, again. Rather quickly after this, Optimus's surprise visit happens. The toys get burned (by Primus not the toys!), the absolutely dope and iconic 2 v 1 fight occurs, annnd that ends in the charred remains of Orion and 'Tronus's collection are left on the battlefield. [As the events of When your nemesis is no longer coming to fight you in the field]

[ Megatron as a patient, or how Soundwave tries to not go insane with his leader’s unfortunate addiction to a certain Prime spans all the way from the start of Soundwave's revenge to the tail end of it]

But, eventually the autobots do learn, giving us another stretch of time as Silverlight's existence prompts a very important treaty and negotiations and "how much do you want me involved with childcare" conversations that need to happen. I'm gonna say this lasts a good three four months? Putting us at 18 to 19 months, around a year and three quarters. During quite an amount of this there's the whole extra protective Megatron stuff and the medics' antics to get checkups on both of them (... and hell, once they do that it's Optimus's turn) Tarn's starting to get super agitated and asks a lot of questions that nobody gives him a straight answer for, the rest of the DJD can kind of sense this and it blows up in everyone's face soon.

At some point, Megatron regains his quarters, and no more incidents seem to have occured or he was just quiet enough about it these times.

This is actually likely when the Grabbening occured, and honestly this is something I've been really itching to talk about more because it's a whole situation. I can see this being an ambush (that on the Decepticons' part is on accident, they did nOT know that there would be autobots out here) with Jazz and Elita, also naturally including Arcee and Bumblebee. It's the first time anyone besides Optimus has seen Megatron, and there's a serious initial fear of "oh FUCK, Megatron is not only here but we don't have Megatron aaaaand the kids and Fowler came with us frag frag frag—", at least until they notice how he isn't on his game. Like, time to start cracking half serious terrorcon and zombie jokes time. Hazard is also here, a rare sight on the battlefield, and absolutely terrorizes the hell out of the humans. The autobots immediately call for a groundbridge,, Soundwave tracks Megatron who's most definitely not supposed to be out of the medbay who the fuck let him outside for a flight, and sends out a bridge as well (don't worry this one isn't very close to the autobots' bridge, no shadowzone adventures for today). Everyone hears thunder, and as is Cybertronian policy to immediately GTFO and there's convenient bridges right there (Megatron, who's already certainly feeling like a terrorcon, actuallyis avoiding being struck by lightning! What an occurrence!). The catch being at least a few Decepticons having bluescreen moments and grabbing all four humans and booking it back to the Nemesis. Because naturally Knockout, Starscream, and Soundwave own the functioning processor components right now. There's a whole discussion about this the moment they get back, with so much arguing in Neocybex that the humans at this point have only vaguely learned some of. The humans are only on the ship for a good twelve hours because certainly the autobots are afraid as hell. Miko isn't because Miko is bold as hell, and at this point has somewhat desensitized Soundwave to her presence. Hazard drags Fowler to their lab with the intent to run experiments onto him and the kids are just kinda vaguely near the commanders. More terrorcon Megatron jokes ensue, because all he wants to do right now is make the most of his re reinstated quarters privileges. Fowler discovers the lost vehicon, (who i now dub Sidewinder because ykw ykw we've mentioned this guy enough that he deserves a two part name) which is a whole thing because he's gotten attached to them. Soundwave, who upon learning that Hazard has gotten the vehicons' favorite human and those guys are making a convincing case. Soundwave comes to the rescue for Fowler and Sidewinder, most certainly scruffs Hazard because of the rules violations he sees immediately upon entering the lab. The other vehicons actually nab both Sidewinder and Fowler, and it's a whole thing about rushing the mech to quarantine and frantically thanking both Soundwave and Fowler for rescuing him. Eventually, the autobots find their way onto the Nemesis and boy do the humans have a story to tell. This would also explain why in the sparkling fic Soundwave would've been pretty concerned about Megatron getting off the ship (btw he bribed Breakdown with string lights, the really good multicolored ones, and by pleading him to let him fly. Megan had no intention to give him the lights but Soundwave much exactly went in and got them for Breaky)

The surprise child is revealed after some missed appointments (likely merely a week). Around this point the neutral hired theraputic medic Rung arrives in the Chance, and upon the first visit he's pretty surprised at the emotional support sparkling. Also around this point, Tarn's presence is being slowly less and less tolerated on the Nemesis but let's be real that's also because of his one sided and slightly scary rivalry with the beep beep jeep, and the knowledge that he's most definitely still writing Megatarnma fics. At some point in what I'm now dubbing the beginning of the Oh Shit A Child arc, Swindle cut a deal with the Autobots with trading earth based luxury goods for Cybertronian luxury goods he has obtained. Surprisingly this does actually go fairly well for both parties, and neither betrays the other.

I'm betting the autobots didn't learn about the sparkling for hear this yet for another threeish months because wow they didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of telling them. I haven't quite decided how, exactly, but dear Primus it is juicy. At some point, Megatron is allowed back on the bridge and is a little less obsessively territorial with his sparkling. Which leads to so many cute interactions where he's holding Silverlight and mecha try to hide their gawking at a respectable distance. So 13-14 months? Tarn, at this point, is just... not allowed on the Nemesis. He's too dangerous and unpredictable to be around something so vulnerable and way important to their leader who already has notorious murderous leanings. Swindle is pretty relieved at this because i mean he definitely doesn't like being grabbed, and Knockout is glad because it means he doesn't have to treat another one of Tarn's stab wounds from said picking up.

Inevitably, Tarn learns of Silverlight and is very not happy that it threatens his fantasy. The Fallen sees this and thinks "okay finally we can get all of this moving a little faster" ... this may also be because I'm thinking thoughts about how Tarn's Voice has an impact on the Fallen even through the dimensional barrier. Sure, not Nearly as strong as it would be on a complete mortal, but it's somewhat an influence. He may be manipulating Tarn much easier than he did in canon with Steeljaw, but he cannot deny that this Tarn has more power than previously thought. The demigod is not used to being dare I say scared after millennia of being trapped. This is when Tarn's darkness in this au starts to really become apparent.

In this short time period in the first month or so after his discovery, Tarn's scorn is limited to quite a few savior fics fics involving Optimus and the sparkling. But eventually there is a public outburst where he sees Pharma for the first time in ages, and Pharma outright states that nobody loves Tarn, especially not Megatron nor himself, and that he honestly couldn't see why anyone could love Tarn. Which, might've been a shitty thing to say but this is when the events of Delphi get revealed so. Aaaand this is when Tarn, before openly threatens Megatron, Optimus, Pharma, Ratchet, and the sparkling (because let's be real Tarn has really and truly snapped at this point, and is willing to do just about anything to get what he wants.)

This will not end well for him.

So... that totals up (using the maximum ranges of the numbers i stated up above, naturally this will not be exact, and since this au is absolutely open to you guys' input as well, I'm fully willing to hear any of y'all's thoughts on the timeline and what you think should be changed to make more sense) bringing us to roughly a little over a year and a half 😁

Originally I was going to include all the way until the end of the Tarn and fallen fiasko, but it got so damn long i didn't have the energy to elaborate on that. But, for context, there's that, there's the events between it and the war over party, what happens beyond that and before the insecticons come up (which i imagine smack dab in the middle of that time period is the discovery about the true nature of the additive), the insecticon stuff, a lil gap between that, a relatively short ordeal with MECH and after that... afterward is pretty much the happy ending

#yes i busted out a calculator for this #long post #really long post #like partway through i wondered if i should put it on ao3 long post #tfp au #timelines #maccadam #au #not tagging every character #oc talk #mannnnn there's so much beautiful things planned #this au is the best #ivy you have encouraged such a clusterfuck with all the emotions and insanity and long posts #I'm still shellshocked that I've inspired actual real fics like. actual fics on ao3. #that there's a chance this au might very well outlive me and become a whole 🎶thing🎶 #and exactly none of this is set in stone! it's flexible and fluid and ever growing

[burntblueberrywaffles]

Can’t wait for tumblr wrapped I made some banger memes so far this year

#my notifications are ruined but what’s new #used to get so excited when I saw notifs and now I’m just like -_- which meme is it #knowing ppl like my memes does make my lil brain happy tho #EDIT cause this was in my queue: well I know at least what two of my top posts are #the 2 ao3 memes really blew tf so unless I somehow makes 20k posts that’s gonna be in there LOL #would have preferred for a post I put slightly more thought into than my two ‘oh no ao3 is down’ memes be my top post but whatever #this might as well happen lol #EDIT AGAIN (side effect of reorganizing your queue semi frequently is that some posts end up in purgatory for way too long) #but yeah the pyramid of maslow's gonna be on there lol #burntblueberrywaffles