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#carry on fanfic
artsyunderstudy · 3 months
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"You will never be as lovely as you are now. We will never be here again."
Illustration for One December Night
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cutestkilla · 3 months
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Episode 5: The Tardigrade and his Boy
Rating: Teen
Words: ~24K
Chapters: 6/6
Summary:
With the engines down for maintenance, the USS Redemption is at a standstill. Just like Dr Shepard Love’s attempts to rebuild the Hail Mary, the culmination of his life’s work and probably the Redemption’s only chance at making it home to the Alpha Quadrant before everyone on the crew dies of old age. When an unexpected visitor appears in the ship’s immediate vicinity, it seems like it might herald a solution to fixing the Hail Mary. Or it might drag Simon, Baz, Shepard and Agatha into an alternate dimension where magic is real and a certain young fellow named the Insidious Humdrum is sowing chaos. What will happen when worlds collide? Will the crew ever make it back to their home universe? Will any of this even make sense? Tune in to this newest episode of Star Trek: Redemption to find out.
After a mid-season hiatus, it's finally time for me to join the Raen @raenestee birthday train! Happy 0.603825 Birthday, Raen!! I hope you enjoy this latest entry in the Star Trek: Redemption series. It's a Watford-era CO crossover episode, featuring a very special guest star I think you might appreciate.
Read Chapter 6 on AO3
Or start from the beginning:
Chapter 1: Previously, on Star Trek: Redemption / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
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whatevertheweather · 8 months
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Musical Chairs
(Rated M; Chapters 2/3)
Summary:
The way Baz saw it, the only thing worse than going to a school reunion would be missing the opportunity to make the people he once hated see him thriving. Even if the reunion was unofficial, doubtlessly awful, and he wasn’t thriving. The rest of Watford’s Class of 2016 saw it the same way. Fortunately, they all had friends willing to help them prove how happy they were.
Read Chapter 1
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c0nsumemy5oul · 4 months
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So based on this post of mine. I come bearing gifts :3
The completed fic of 'Agatha puts makeup on Simon and Baz is Flustered (TM)'
its called Makeup! (I know, so original lol)
Summary:
It was a few seconds later that he realised Baz wasn’t backing down from a fight, he was staring. At him. Simon was never very confident in his looks around Baz, (I mean, look at the man!) but today, he felt rather superior. He knows how he looks, he’s seen himself in the mirror. Simon smirked smugly. Makeup. He’s wearing makeup. Baz cursed the fact he just fed.
Enjoy!
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rainbow-0bsidian · 6 months
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My mate @snowbaz-parentis wrote this excellent work for @carryonthroughtheages.
Safe Harbor
It all started on an island...
It's 1956, and Baz Pitch is existentially lost in New York City. After graduating from Columbia, he's working for a wedding photographer with no taste as he avoids his inevitable fall attendance at Yale Law School, his father's alma mater. All Baz wants to do is be a fashion photographer, and when an opportunity to assist a famous photographer out on Fire Island falls in his lap, it just may be the key to helping unlock him from the closet of his family's expectations.
It's 1956, and Simon Snow is wondering if there's more to life than this or if this is as good as it gets. He's been working in construction with his foster father, David Cadwallader, practically ever since he was taken in at age 13, but there's something beyond the water that's calling for him. When Davy offers Simon a chance to manage his family's rental properties for the summer in Cherry Grove on Fire Island, Simon jumps at the chance to finally take charge of something.
What Baz and Simon didn't expect: the sense of freedom that comes from being able to absolutely surrender to the truest version of yourself, and the choices you have to make when it happens.
Chapter one is up now on ao3.
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j-nipper-95 · 7 months
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WIP Thursday (because when do I ever actually post on Wednesday 🤷🏽‍♀️)
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Thanks for the tags this week @artsyunderstudy @cosmicalart @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @cutestkilla @larkral @nightimedreamersworld . Tagging you right back to Sunday!
THE TRAILS WE BLAZE when live this week, and I can't thank you all enough for your comments and love so far for this fic. There's so much more to come, hijinks, action, PINING! On that subject, enjoy a bit of pining from chapter 2.
I wrote to him every chance I got, and I know the officers in charge of my platoon had to read and censor everything we sent, but I hope the sentiment was still there in every single one of my letters. I miss you. I miss home. You are home.
I'm so excited to keep sharing this fic with you all, along with the amazing artwork Ashton is producing for it!
Tagging for Sunday: @artsyunderstudy @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @aristocratic-otter @bazzybelle @blackberrysummerblog @bookish-bogwitch @cattocavo @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @cutestkilla @dragoneggos @erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fatalfangirl @frjsti @henreyettah @hushed-chorus @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @nightimedreamersworld @orange-peony @prettylightsbigcity @palimpsessed @phoxphyre @raenestee @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @subparselkie @theearlgreymage @you-remind-me-of-the-babe 
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[Podfic] Flowers, Cake, and Filthy DMs
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(Oh my, what's this? A podfic? Just making it in under the deadline? Must be Jo's.)
Baz’s excitement over his favourite Instagram florist coming to his restaurant to create a holiday window display is over shadowed by that fact that he stupidly sent him a very dirty DM the night before. Disaster panic ensues.
Written by @you-remind-me-of-the-babe // Read by @iamamythologicalcreature // for the @caught-on-tape-fest 2023
Rated T // about 11 minutes
Not just my first podfic, but also my first time posting on AO3. (I'm not nervous. Who's nervous? Not me.) Take a listen!
Gratitude gushing under the cut!
Thanks so much to @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for opening this lovely little story up for podficcing! Thanks also to @cutestkilla for being relentlessly supportive during this whole, ah, let's say process.
And of course, the modding side of things - so much gratitude for organizing this podfic fest! The explosion of podfics that I've seen from this fest is just... well, it's awesome. I've been binging fanfic since posting started for this fest - something I would never be able to do, otherwise. Setting up this fest was inspired, and I also greatly appreciate the work and dedication that went into making it all come together.
Podfics are such an amazing contribution to the fandom, and I'm really glad I was able to participate at least a little. I hope everyone (including myself) continues to create podfics - not just for those who need the assistance reading, but for everyone who enjoys the listening experience!
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double-aa-batteries · 9 months
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snowbaz fic titled play me like a violin
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best--dress · 8 months
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so, so pleased to share that I finished my first snowbaz fic! on my last reread of carry on, i found myself intrigued by the little details baz and simon both share about fighting the chimera, so i decided to imagine the rest of the story.
I mimicked Rainbow's writing style for this fic, which was an interesting experience. i typically write original characters and it was really fun and easeful to play around in a world that was already so fully fleshed out.
I've Always Played with Fire (T, 2k)
Watford fifth year. Baz lures Simon into the Wavering Wood by promising him information about his parents. Then Baz has a terrible realization about himself. His jaw is jutting out, his eyebrows are furrowed low, and he looks like he's trying to uncover some sinister plot beneath my words. Meanwhile, my sinister plot is advancing on us...
Read on AO3
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aheadfullofbooks · 5 months
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“So, what should we be on the lookout for - aversion to garlic? X-ray vision? Not showing up in photographs?”
“I’m in the yearbook, Snow”.
Nothing but the truth by aheadfullofbooks Someone has been draining Normals in town, and suspicion falls on Watford’s very own long-rumored vampire. Simon & Baz, vampire hunters? Yeah, sort of.
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Day 8: Lyrics
It's Simon and Baz's last winter break before they graduate, and subsequently never see each other again. They should be glad to be rid of each other, right? But then why are they clinging to what little time they have left? Why is it so hard to say how you really feel? 
(or, a fic inspired by the song Head Over Heals)
Length: 2532
Warnings: none
Read on AO3 or below the cut
SIMON
“Looks like it might rain,” I say, leaning my forearms on the porch railing. The night sky is filled with cold gray clouds—the moon barely visible.
Baz makes a non-committal sound and takes another drag from his cigarette.
I don’t know why I followed him out here. It’s dark and cold and I’m breathing in second-hand smoke. I should have stayed inside with Shep and Penny. I should have left the party as soon as I saw Baz.
I never learned how to leave Basilton Pitch alone, though. The only thing worse than being around Baz is not being around him.
And a small, very stupid, part of me is convinced Baz invited me out here. I was laughing at a joke Shepard made, Baz was leaning against the living room wall, acting cool and better than everyone else at this crowded party. I looked up, across the people playing beer pong, and we locked eyes. He looked bored. I probably looked buzzed. Then Baz tipped his head towards the hallway and slipped away, through the house and out the sliding glass door.
He was probably just flicking some of his obnoxiously pretty hair out of his face, not gesturing for me to follow him out back. But I did. And now I’m out here, bothering him during winter break when we’re supposed to be enjoying the time we have away from each other and the tiny dorm room we share.
Freshman year Penny said I followed Baz around like a lost puppy. I argued with her about that at the time, but I’m starting to see her point.
I feel stupid, stood out here with nothing to say. No reason to be near Baz. I don’t know why he hasn’t told me to fuck off yet.  
“Did you see the sunset last night? It was gorgeous,” I try talking to him again.
Baz finally turns to look at me. The wood railing he leans against presses into his hip. Gray eyes peer down his long, crooked nose at me. I turn my neck to look up at him from my hunched over position.
If this is what gets his attention, I’ll keep talking. “It was mostly orange but like the underside of some of the clouds in the west, wer-were this crazy-pretty purple.”
Baz doesn’t say anything, so I keep going—I put my half empty cider can on the porch railing, and reach into my back pocket for my phone, ready to show him the grainy pictures I took of the sky yesterday. I move closer to him; one of my hands brushes his cool fingers griping the wood railing.
He flicks the ash of his fag and then pushes my hand away from him with a small sneer.
Anger bubbles up in me. He’s always doing shit like that: keeping me at a distance with a calculated system of touches. We only make contact when he’s pushing me away. It’s infuriating. It makes me want to shove my hands onto him, to bury myself in his chest and tear him apart, so he can’t get rid of me.
“Did you want me alone to talk about the weather?” Baz asks annoyed, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” I huff. I don’t mention I think he wanted me out here. He’d think I’ve gone mad. (Maybe I have).
Baz scoffs.
“So uh, how’s break been for you? Are you looking forward to finally being rid of me?” I ask, with a teasing smile. It’s easy to fall back on our familiar scripts of insults and fighting.
“I am counting down the days, Snow, had an advent calendar customized for the occasion,” he says grinning. He takes another drag, then hesitates before continuing, “I’ll admit, I am a little nervous about finishing this school year.”
“Well if the great Basilton Pitch is worried about his marks then the rest of us are well and truly fucked,” I joke.
He doesn’t smile, or even roll his eyes at me. Baz just looks at the ground.
“It’s not grades. It’s-I’m not sure what I want to do with myself after school. I don’t know if child education is even right for me anymore.” He slumps a little—his lips forming into a small frown.
Okay Baz must be a little drunk. There’s no way he’d be talking to me about his anxieties if he were sober.
I want to reassure him. I hate to admit it, but he’s brilliant—and charming when he wants to be—I’m sure he could be successful in any field he wanted.
“Do you not like it? Or are you worried you’ll be rubbish? Because I’ve seen you a few times with your siblings, you’ll be fantastic as a teacher.”
Baz’s cheeks flush just slightly, and for a moment a small smile crosses his face, but he quickly schools his features into the allure, uncaring mask I’m so familiar with. There are cracks in it this time though. It’s subtle: his cheeks are still red, and the corners of his mouth are ever so slightly pulled up. I doubt he even realizes this, but nothing about Baz escapes my attention.
My chest warms with the knowledge that I made him smile. Or no—it’s probably just the few ciders I drank. Yeah, that is what’s making me all warm and fuzzy inside.
“You don’t know anything, Snow,” he mumbles, before taking another drag. His eyes are glued to the wood we’re standing on. “My father’s always on me about not working hard enough for this, he thinks I’m wasting money. He wanted me to be a lawyer, or a doctor.”
“That’s bullshit,” I exclaim. Baz works harder at his education than anyone I know, besides Penelope.
“It’s just how he is,” Baz says like he’s trying not to care.
“It’s bullshit,” I say again, trying to get through to him. “Does he not know how dedicated you are? Does he not know you’re at the top of all your classes?” I ask, angry at the idea that anyone would try to discredit the passion and work Baz puts into his schooling.
“Enough, enough,” Baz waves me off. He tucks a stray lock of black hair behind his ear, his gray eyes shifting to the left. My eyes follow the movement of his long fingers. He looks at me again, long eyelashes fluttering. His mouth still smiling so small it’d be hard for anyone else to pick up on. And-
Oh. Oh fuck.
BAZ
Inviting Snow out here was a terrible idea. His plain blue eyes shine in the faint moonlight, and he’s pointing that blazing sunshine smile of his at me. I can’t handle being this close to Simon Snow; it’s like standing in the middle of a burning forest. I was set on fire the moment we met.
I used to hate him. Those first few months my crush on Simon was insufferable, and I was terrified of my presumably straight roommate finding out I was gay. It frustrated me endlessly, so I took it out on him. I didn’t realize what I felt for him had turned into love until I’d established myself as the villain in Snow’s life. And then it was too late for me to do anything but watch myself burn.
And now he’s talking to me like he cares about what I have to say. And I’m (idiotically) opening up to him, which for some unfathomable reason he’s being nice about. It’s the most we’ve said to each other without getting antagonistic. It’s doing wonderful (cruel, painful) things to my heart. I can’t help but think about his future, and mine, and the imaginary one in my head that we spend together.
I should leave—go back inside, or take the tube home, but I’m weak. And Snow’s standing so close to me I can almost feel the heat radiating off of him.
We go back to uni for our last semester together in a few days, and then whatever I have with Snow will be over, permanently. I’ve always known he wouldn’t be in my life forever, but lately I’ve really been living in the past, trying to pretend this (as if there is a this. As if I’ll ever be anything to Simon Snow) will last longer. I’ll drag tonight out as long as I can.
“What are your grand plans after graduation?” I ask, desperate to keep him here with me. I puff out smoke from my cigarette. Snow puffs out a warm breath into the cool night air.
He looks like his brain’s overheating.
SIMON
I’m in love with him.
I drop my head into my empty palm. Everything hits me so fast I feel dizzy with it. I’m in love with Basilton Pitch. Holy shit. Of course I don’t realize until I’m already head over heels and truly fucked. My heart’s racing so fast I think it’s going to burst out of my chest. I can’t breathe.
Fuck, okay, I need to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, yeah?
I try to focus on what Baz asked me. He says something about graduation, and plans after.
“I-” my brain is scrambling to come up with words that make sense “-I don’t know. I went into mathematics because I like it, but I’ve no clue what jobs I could even get with my degree.” I shrug. The academic advisor’s been on me about figuring out my future, but I’m not good at thinking about that shite. It’s too overwhelming, so I just don’t think.
Baz stares at me in disbelief. “How do you not know your career options?”
I shrug. “It’s scary,” I admit to him. “I never thought I’d make it to uni. In the care home I never thought I’d graduate secondary school.”
I try not to say things like that to people. They either look at me with pity or try to be encouraging by saying I would have found a way to finish school even as an orphan. I hate both reactions.
Baz doesn’t do either, he just nods.
This is okay, I can handle this. I can fancy Baz for a few months and then graduate and move on like it’s nothing. Easy-peasy.
I’m staring at his lips. I can’t stop staring.
They look so soft, and kissable. I want to know if his mouth is as cold as his hands always are.
Baz raises an eyebrow at me.
I flick my eyes up to his. He’s giving me that look—the one that usually means he wants to throttle me for being a prat. It sends an electric thrill down my spine and settles in my core.
“Sorry I sh-” I feel my face burning up “-I shouldn’t have said that, about secondary school.”
I force my gaze away from Baz’s mesmerizing face.
“What do you want to do? With your life, without thinking about education or money or other bullshit,” Baz asks.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I don’t think about it.”
He looks puzzled. I expect a jab at my intelligence, but it never comes.
“I think blacksmiths are cool, but like, is that even a career anymore?”
Baz lets out a loud laugh.
“Shut up,” I groan. For one fleeting moment I thought we could be pleasant towards each other.
“Sorry, sorry,” Baz composes himself. “I think that’s hot-cool. It’s cool.”
I can’t help the giant smile that takes over my face.
“Hot?”
“Shut up,” Baz rolls his eyes.
“I’m just surprised, you’ve never told me how sexy you find me before.”
“Oh god,” he groans. I laugh at his pained expression. “Please make it stop,” he dramatically begs.
“It’s okay, we all know I could never measure up to the standards of the great Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”
BAZ
I should go along with Simon’s self-deprecating joke, but I can’t let him go on thinking he isn’t the most attractive man in existence, and the ticking time bomb on our relationship has me feeling desperate.
“You want to know something embarrassing?”  I ask.
He nods.
“I was so mean to you when we first met because I had a raging crush on you and was too closeted to admit it.”
Simon’s eyes widen. I can see the cogs turning in his brain. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just looks like he’s choosing his next works carefully. Something I can’t imagine Snow has ever done before. It worries me. Maybe I’ve truly fucked things up this time.
“You know what else is embarrassing?” he asks. “I just realized tonight that I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.”
“That’s not funny.” God, this was a terrible idea.
“It wasn’t a joke,” Simon says seriously.
But it must be, there’s no way I have a chance with Simon Snow.
I want to leave, but my eyes catch the can Simon left on the railing. Its logo is a four-leaf clover. I’ve never believed in good luck charms, but maybe tonight the universe will be on my side.
SIMON
I look into Baz’s eyes. His gaze flicks down to my lips. I take a step towards him. Baz drops his fag and snuffs it out while keeping his eyes on me.
This close I can feel his breath on my face. It smells like stale nicotine but I don’t care.
I pull him down to me by the back of the neck, and attack him. I don’t hesitate—I can’t—I’ll burst out of my skin if I don’t kiss him right now. Baz melts into the kiss.
Baz kisses me back just as passionately. Like he’s a drowning man and I’m his only source of air. It makes my knees weak.
I tangle a hand into his long dark hair. It’s so smooth. Exactly how I imagined. Baz moans when I tug.
One of his hands cups my jaw, the other moves towards my arse, pulling my closer.
I press him against the wood railing, and then I keep pressing. My hands are reaching for every little bit of Baz I can touch. I can’t get close enough. I need to be closer, I need to meld us together into one. I need to make up for all the time we wasted fighting with each other. Maybe then Baz would know how much I love him. He’d understand what he means to me.
He rubs a thumb across my cheek, then pushes me away, for air.
I pout; I still haven’t gotten my fill of Basilton Pitch.
“Simon,” he breathes.
“Baz,” I say, kissing his bottom lip, it’s swollen from all the kissing. The thought makes my insides fuzzy. I move down to kiss his chin.
“Simon,” Baz says again.
“Baz,” I hum, my lips just under his ear.
He starts to shiver at the sensation, but stops himself.
“Simon,” he says seriously.
I pull away to look at him. “What?”
“Please…”
“What?”
“Tomorrow, when you’re sober-” he swallows. My eyes follow the bob of his Adam’s apple. “-don’t break my heart.”
“Never. Never Baz.” And I let myself hope he won’t break mine either.
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artsyunderstudy · 8 months
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I’ll take it. I’ll take you. Every part of you.
Illustration from the final chapter of Someone Wicked.
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cutestkilla · 5 months
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My first podfic for @caught-on-tape-fest of the wonderful @fatalfangirl's tremendous fic Playing the Field (which I have been obsessed with ever since it was posted).
[Podfic] Playing the Field on AO3 (rated E, length 45:53)
Baz is back on the football team after his late start to Eighth year, and his performance has been subpar. He can't score to save his life... and after Simon accidentally curses him, that's exactly what he'll need to do.
I re-read this one so often that I figured I might as well take a shot a re-reading it out loud for everyone else. As soon as I saw Stacy had put it on the claiming list I jumped on it!
(banner by Stacy + my scrawl 😂)
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whatevertheweather · 2 years
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Bite Me
(Rated M; Chapters 4/4)
Summary:
When Simon’s magic makes a spell out of “bite me” during a fight, Baz finds he can’t eat anything until he’s bitten Simon. Which he won’t do. No matter how much Simon wants him to.
Read Chapter 1
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c0nsumemy5oul · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday
I know technically its not Wednesday and I'm not really tagged by people who do it but I wanted to share my WIP nonetheless because I like it :3
A Carry On fanfic where Baz was kidnapped by the mage himself and not numpties and them Simon was placed with him in confinement because the ghost of Natasha Pitch was seen hovering over the boys' dorm room.
They're trying to find a way out.
“Who kidnapped you?”  Baz was writing ‘what we know’ on a paper using the pen he found on the table. “We know that you were brought here today.”  “Baz, stop ignoring me!”  “What would you do if I told you, Snow?” He blew up. “Thank the person who brought me here?”  “I’ll tear them limb to limb.” Simon said darkly.
this was originally supposed to be a one-shot but I'm not sure if it'll remain like that. And I'm not sure where to go from here.
You won't find it online, I haven't posted it yet so. I might not eitherway lol.
Do let me know what you think :)
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rainbow-0bsidian · 1 year
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Thanks for the tag @thehoneyedhufflepuff, you bugger 💛
This wip has been a fully formed idea since Dec 2020 but I’ve only just put words down this week.
Yes, it is a highly specific acute geriatric ward hospital AU that few people will likely care to dive into and yes, Simon is the Nursing Unit Manager and also yes, Baz will be one of the doctors. You’re welcome.
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Shout out to @otherworldsivelivedin @flightspathfic @mostlymaudlin @jaydreams @paradoxolotl and anyone else that might care to share x
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