Aletea
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aletea.bsky.social
Aletea
@aletea.bsky.social
230 followers 210 following 530 posts
I write fanfiction for Our Flag Means Death on Ao3! Izzy-centric, with a dash of garlic soup.

Aletea on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aletea
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aletea.bsky.social
The final chapter of my jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! Time to wrap up those loose ends, including the most important one of all: does Hugh Little Bastard eat his dinner?

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Features an orange being stabbed by a knife and a snakeskin border
July 30, 2025 at 11:05 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 7 of my Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! In which the plot comes to a head.

#garlicsoup

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
July 28, 2025 at 11:01 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 6 of my Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! In which Jim and Archie do some actual investigating

#garlicsoup

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Features orange being stabbed by a knife
July 26, 2025 at 10:58 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 5 of my Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! In which Archie attempts to run away from emotions (or at least talking about them), and Jim won't let her

#garlicsoup

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Features an orange being stabbed by a knife that says Jimenez on it. Snakeskin border around the card
July 24, 2025 at 11:42 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 4 of my Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! Archie and Jim talk, and Archie thinks she's got it all figured out.

#garlicsoup

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Features red words against a beige background, a knife with jimenez on the handle stabbing an orange
July 22, 2025 at 10:51 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 3 of my Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with art by @clairegregoryau.bsky.social is here! Archie calls a friend for help and goes to talk to Jim about what she's learned

#garlicsoup

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Shows an orange being stabbed by a knife that says Jimenez, snake skin border
July 20, 2025 at 10:52 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 2 of my Jim/Archie @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab is up! We learn a little bit more about whats going on, including Jim's past, and whose death they're cleaning up after. Also features awesome art by @clairegregoryau.bsky.social

archiveofourown.org/works/676325...

#garlicsoup
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Shows an orange being stabbed by a knife that says Jimenez, snake skin border
July 18, 2025 at 11:19 AM
aletea.bsky.social
true survivors remix - This is a soft, bittersweet take on how trauma doesn't instantly heal, just because things have gotten better. Ouizzy, T rated, 1.5k, written for the 2025 @ofmdremix.bsky.social

archiveofourown.org/collections/...
A year on from Izzy being shot, Frenchie wakes up to a beautiful day on the Revenge. Everything is calm and quiet. Everything should be perfect. It isn't. Having everything just means that you having everything to lose, and try as he might, Frenchie can't keep his fear from bubbling up through the cracks. But luckily, he doesn't have to deal with it alone.
July 16, 2025 at 1:56 PM
aletea.bsky.social
It's here! The first chapter of my @ofmdreversebigbang.bsky.social collab with art by @clairegregoryau.bsky.social . Archie and Jim are crime scene cleaners who get involved in a murder investigation. Be prepared for morbid humor along with a few angsty moments
archiveofourown.org/works/676325...
A little murder title card, words by aletea, art by claire gregory. Shows an orange being stabbed by a knife that says Jimenez, snake skin border
July 16, 2025 at 1:42 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Now that authors have been revealed, I can share what I wrote for the remix! This is a soft, bittersweet take on how trauma doesn't instantly heal, just because things have gotten better. Ouizzy, T rated, 1.5k

archiveofourown.org/collections/...
Summary: A year on from Izzy being shot, Frenchie wakes up to a beautiful day on the Revenge. Everything is calm and quiet. Everything should be perfect. It isn't. Having everything just means that you having everything to lose, and try as he might, Frenchie can't keep his fear from bubbling up through the cracks. But luckily, he doesn't have to deal with it alone. Notes: For friendlytikek. Inspired by looking like true survivors by friendlytikek
June 30, 2025 at 4:48 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Read my first book for #piratereadingclub! A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers. It felt like just a cozy, relaxing novella until I got to the end, and this one line took me out. I keep going back and re-reading it.

Lovely. Just lovely.

app.thestorygraph.com/books/e630cc...
You keep asking why your work is not enough, and I don’t know how to answer that, because it is enough to exist in the world and marvel at it. You don’t need to justify that, or earn it. You are allowed to just live.
June 30, 2025 at 3:18 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Been seeing this going around again and I haven't done one of these posts in a while, so why not? 😆 I've got quite a few fanfic ideas
1 like = 1 fic I want to write
June 28, 2025 at 3:37 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Someone has remixed my Jim/Archie customer service fic for this years @ofmdremix.bsky.social and it's so cute! Jim POV instead of Archie, and really well done. Not technically a #garlicsoupweek fic, but it's great timing!

Go give it some love ❤️

archiveofourown.org/collections/...
When Jim started off at Queen Anne’s Racks, their expectations of the place were not high whatsoever. They never expected the QAR to give them so much structure in life— their best friends, their partners, a community in kind with their coworkers. Besides all of the actual work they had to do (boo!) Jim was grateful for it all. It was a wonky sort of perfect. There was one part, though, not quite reaching perfection. (Or: Jim was good at their job. Just not around Archie.)
June 23, 2025 at 1:17 AM
aletea.bsky.social
For #wipwednesday here's a couple of little snips from my upcoming Jim/Archie #ofmdreversebang. This fic jumps back and forth between comedy and more emotional moments, and these two snips show that!

#garlicsoup
“I wanted to be a snake oil salesman when I was a kid,” she blurted out. Jim stopped and stared at her. “A snake oil-” “I thought it meant selling oil to snakes, to keep their scales shiny. Must have heard the word somewhere.” Archie shrugged. “I was five. Pretty sure I’d only seen snakes in cartoons.” Jim’s lips started twitching and some of that tension in their face eased. “Then when I was six, my class went to the zoo and I lost my tiny fucking mind over the snake enclosure. Decided to become a zookeeper.” A smile broke out on their face. “And then when I was seven, I decided that I wanted to train snakes to act in movies. But that only lasted until another kid told me the snakes were always the bad guys, because fuck that.” “And when you were eight?” “An astronaut.” “¿En serio?” “Yeah. But that only lasted until I learned there were no snakes in space.” “Tell good stories.” When Archie looked up at them, their expression was still soft, in a way that made her stomach twist. “They start out normal, and then just…turn. You can make anything interesting.” “There’s a trick to it. Start with something true and twist it a little. Take something boring and twist it until it’s fun.” Or take something awful, and make people laugh with it. Because then maybe she could laugh about it, too. The bit about what she wanted to be when she was a kid…most of it had been a lie. The snake obsession was true, sure, but she couldn’t really remember what she’d wanted to be back then. It seemed like such a normal thing, like everyone else remembered their childhood dreams. But it was so long ago. How the fuck did anyone actually remember? Archie sure didn’t. She didn’t know what it meant about her that she couldn’t remember something like that. “Most of my stories don’t really mean anything. They’re just stories,” Archie admitted. She liked making Jim laugh, but she wasn’t sure she liked them actually believing what she said. “They still mean something, even when they’re not true.”
June 4, 2025 at 1:32 PM
aletea.bsky.social
For ofmd #wipwednesday here's a little snippet of a new Stizzy fic I'm working on. Izzy is the Woodsman and Stede gets lost in the Unknown...

This is an over the garden wall au
“Lovely,” Bonnet mumbled. “And I’m just supposed to wait here, in this abandoned house, until you come back. With your axe.” That again. As if it was that fucking strange to be chopping down trees in the woods. “Go back out into the fucking woods then. I don’t care.” “I’m not going to just tromp around the woods in the dark!” “The Beast is the danger, not the dark.” Bonnet hesitated, glancing at the window as if expecting a shadow to appear at any moment. “A beast? Is it dangerous?" “The Beast,” Izzy corrected. “And yes, it’s fucking dangerous. So stay put.” Izzy picked up his lantern from the ground, as the fire was built up enough now to last, and strode back over towards the door. Bonnet got out of his way hastily, but Izzy paused before leaving. “Where do you belong?” Bonnet had to belong somewhere; everyone did. You had to belong - or have belonged somewhere - in order to be lost from it. He expected to hear some variation on home. That was what he’d heard before, mostly, from the lost he’d found in the woods who were willing to accept his help. But Bonnet didn’t say anything.
May 28, 2025 at 12:38 PM
aletea.bsky.social
A double rainbow!!
May 24, 2025 at 12:06 AM
aletea.bsky.social
Why not? 😆
What am I known for in the fandom?
May 23, 2025 at 1:02 PM
aletea.bsky.social
For #wipwednesday, here is another snip from my upcoming Jim/Archie crime scene cleaners RBB with art from @clairegregoryau.bsky.social This fic is a balancing act between moments of Archie being SUPER ridiculous, and moments like this where the trauma underpinning everything rises up #garlicsoup
Archie had just been in it for the money. This job paid really fucking well, after all; she’d gone to that interview thinking that the boss was going to be someone who just wanted to make a good buck and had a strong stomach. Someone who looked at other people’s tragedies and saw dollar signs. And she’d met Jim, who talked about the work in a way she hadn’t expected. They talked about turning someone’s nightmare from a visceral, physical reality into memories. How they couldn’t wipe that hurt away, but could keep it from hurting them in an entirely new way. How they could keep someone from having even more nightmares to dwell on in the middle of the night. “No one should have to know what it’s like to scrub their family’s blood off the floor.” The words Jim said during their interview had taken on a different meaning, with what Archie knew about them now. They had been a fucking kid - surely they hadn’t been the one to clean up after their parent’s deaths. But that didn’t mean someone else hadn’t had to. Maybe that Nana that they had talked about. And it didn’t mean Jim hadn’t seen what having to do that sort of thing did to someone. All the same, Archie couldn’t stop picturing it now. A smaller, younger version of Jim, trying to scrub away trauma that wasn’t ever going to go anywhere. It was the sort of thing that needed restoration, not cleaning. “You have hope,” Archie said softly. “It’s cute.”
May 14, 2025 at 12:18 PM
aletea.bsky.social
For #WIPWednesday, here is another snip from my upcoming Jim/Archie #OFMDReverseBang fic (inspired by art from @clairegregoryau.bsky.social )

This fic is going to be so much fun. Archie is an absolute train wreck and I love her
It was a small space, a table shoved against a far wall with a few chairs in front of it and some things scattered across it. A narrow counter, cluttered with appliances. But it made Archie relax even more than the living room had; this was a kitchen that got used. It was comfortable. And then she saw Jim with a knife in their hands and her brain stuttered to a halt. One part of her brain shouted oh shit they’re good with that and started to panic about what it might mean if Jim was good with knives. The other part of her brain was like oh shit they’re so fucking hot. Archie wasn’t sure what it meant that both thoughts hit her simultaneously. Jim was standing by the counter, chopping up vegetables. Archie had only seen that sort of speed on cooking shows, and it occurred to her that maybe the only reason she watched those things was because she found chefs kind of hot. Especially when they had piercings and tattoos and short hair buzzed on the sides and- “Sorry,” Jim said. “Was doing meal prep. Never have enough time to cook if I didn’t do this shit when I got a chance.” Of course Jim meal prepped. Archie just kept a million meals in her freezer and a few cans of soup in her pantry. She never felt like cooking after being on a job for twelve fucking hours. Or ever, if she was honest. She probably put more effort into her snake’s food than her own.
May 1, 2025 at 12:34 AM
aletea.bsky.social
For #wipwednesday here's a little snip from my #OFMDReverseBang! I've been paired up with @clairegregoryau.bsky.social for art and it is SUCH a fun concept.

Expect lots of Archie/Jim shenanigans, now with bonus snake!
The call came during breakfast. Not Archie’s breakfast - no, if it had been her breakfast, it wouldn’t have been any problem at all. She would have answered the phone between bites of egg or toast or syrup coated pancakes. Pancakes sounded really fucking good right now, actually- No, no. Focus, Archie. She couldn’t eat until she got this little fucker to eat. And she probably should see who was calling her, although she had a guess. And normally, she’d be all over it. The phone kept ringing. Archie kept not answering. She wiggled the tongs back and forth, peering into the terrarium. “C’mon man, you love this shit.” A little bit of movement. He was looking at the food she was dangling from the tongs. But she’d swear the look said what the fuck is this shit or maybe try harder. The phone stopped ringing, “Look, do I have to go buy a lizard? Because I will. But then you won’t be eating until like, the end of the day. Or tomorrow.” A tongue flickered out. He seemed unbothered by the idea of his breakfast being delayed.
April 9, 2025 at 1:27 PM
aletea.bsky.social
The Borderland - set in the 1890s, this is an angsty deep dive into Victorian spiritualism, featuring Ed as a medium. Gothic horror and romance. 91k, E rated.

archiveofourown.org/works/626347...
Summary: Ed and Izzy used to be a team once, taking Victorian London by storm, but Ed’s abilities as a medium aren’t what they used to be. He’s haunted by the tragedy that befell them, and his abilities have suffered for it. When Stede Bonnet, a researcher from the Psychical Society, comes to him with a proposition to study his energy, he wonders if this is a way to fix things. Ed agrees to be studied, and travels to an isolated island estate for the research. He trusts Stede. He just wishes that Stede was the one in charge, and not Ned Low. And Ed is keeping a secret. A secret about why he's so much weaker than he used to be. Notes: This is a Victorian spiritualism AU, and I read a few books about spiritualism in the 1800s for it. I slipped lots of historical details into this fic, and I've included end notes about the relevant details in that chapter, for anyone interested! It was a really interesting piece of history to explore. My favorite book was Ghost Hunters: William James and the Search for Scientific Proof of Life After Death by Deborah Blum, and most of the specific details come from that book. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Relationship: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach Israel Hands Stede Bonnet Edward "Ned" Low Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical Alternate Universe - Victorian Gothic Horror Ghosts Haunting Grief/Mourning Angst with a Happy Ending Past Character Death Ghost Israel Hands izzy died and refused to fuck off ed is a victorian heroine with (spiritual) consumption creepy child ghost with a traumatic backstory Unethical Experimentation Oblivious Stede Bonnet Blackbeard | Edward Teach is Not Okay Trauma Blood and Violence Bondage WTF is Buttons ned low is an unethical scientist Past Child DeathBad coping mechanisms
April 7, 2025 at 8:41 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 9 of my spiritualism steddyhands fic is here! We're in the thick of the action, and there are big revelations

archiveofourown.org/works/626347...
“I knew it.” Every time someone had looked at Izzy since they’d arrived on this island, it had made Izzy’s breath catch. Even when he didn’t have a breath to catch, he had still felt it. After five years of barely existing, being seen by someone other than just Ed had been such a relief it was almost painful. But the way Low was looking at Izzy wasn’t a relief. It wasn’t Frenchie, with excited eyes. It wasn’t that strange expression Bonnet got, like Izzy was a mystery that he wanted to explore. It was greedy. Like he wanted to flay Izzy open and see what made him tick. Izzy scarcely even noticed Banes beside Low in the doorway. It made Izzy want to vanish again, like he’d never existed at all. He’d rather not exist, than have Low look at him like this. Or if he couldn’t vanish, then he at least wanted a weapon. Although judging from the swelling of Low’s nose and what Bonnet had said about the séance, he hadn’t done too badly without one. He wished he could remember it. He wanted to know how it felt to smash that fucker’s nose in. Maybe he’d do it again just to find out. Low’s eyes flicked over to Bonnet. His lip curled, contempt in every part of his face. “I knew you were a liar.”
March 27, 2025 at 7:34 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 8 of my Steddyhands spiritualism fic is here. A lot happens in this chapter! The action is really kicking in! 🔥

archiveofourown.org/works/626347...
It sounded like the manor itself was howling from the force of the wind. Rain was clattering against the window, and Stede wondered if maybe a storm like this was why the other half of the manor had collapsed. It felt like the storm was trying to take down the half that they were in, too. It was the sort of storm that made Stede want to settle in with a nightcap and a blanket, a roaring fireplace in front of him. Maybe even curled up with Ed and Izzy. That sounded really lovely, and they could even be doing that right now if Low wasn’t being such a total dick. “Frenchie and Buttons aren’t back yet! We can't do this without them.” Whatever letter Frenchie had been waiting for apparently hadn’t arrived yesterday, so he and Buttons had taken the boat out around midday. They had promised they’d be back before dinner, but dinner had rolled around and they hadn’t returned. Stede didn’t think they were coming back tonight at all, frankly. Not with the force of those waves and the strength of that wind. The storm had been on the horizon for most of the day, but it had finally hit. He just didn't understand why they hadn't come back before the storm; Buttons surely knew how to keep an eye on the weather. What could have held them up? “As you reminded me yesterday, we have a schedule,” Low said. “And we’re sticking to it.”
March 21, 2025 at 12:24 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 7 of my Steddyhands spiritualism fic is here! There's smut ahead. This time involving all three of them!
archiveofourown.org/works/626347...
“I have a theory.” Izzy wasn’t sure why he felt so much suspicion at those words coming out of Bonnet’s mouth. Maybe it was the way he was fidgeting as he said them. Maybe it was the way Ed had perked up and was staring at him with interest. Or maybe it was the way that, ever since earlier when Izzy had temporarily lost his mind and kissed Bonnet, the researcher just kept fucking looking at him. Looking at him wasn’t technically strange. But looking at him the way that Bonnet did, with those big fucking doe eyes, was strange. No one looked at Izzy like that. No one had looked at him like that even when he was alive. Even Ed didn’t look at him like that, although occasionally his eyes did turn warm and gentle and- No. That was not how Bonnet was looking at him. Bonnet was just strange. That was all. They hadn’t talked about the kiss. They hadn’t repeated it. They hadn’t even touched again for the rest of the day. But Bonnet kept looking at him, and Izzy kept thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Well, it’s not really a theory,” Bonnet corrected himself. “It’s more of an educated guess.” Maybe this was why Izzy felt suspicious. Because Bonnet was chewing on his lip and looked more nervous than he’d been at any point prior. “No, it’s not even that. It’s a - a suggestion.” “Bonnet,” Izzy interrupted sourly, when it looked like Bonnet was going to keep rambling for the rest of the fucking night. “What the fuck are you saying?” “I should stay the night again.”
March 14, 2025 at 12:48 PM
aletea.bsky.social
Chapter 6 of my steddyhands spiritualism fic is here! In which Ed, Stede, and Izzy get a little closer, and Ned Low gets his way. archiveofourown.org/works/626347...
Stede hadn’t expected any of this. He should have realized going to Ed’s room to talk would lead to them sleeping together, given what had happened earlier that evening, but it just hadn’t occurred to him until it was happening. It wasn’t like he was inexperienced - he’d been visiting clubs for years now, after all - but his engagements at the clubs always followed a script. Stede always knew exactly what was going to happen, how it was going to happen, and that he and his partner-du-jour would part ways immediately afterwards. It was comforting, because it was a dance he knew all the steps to. But at the same time, he sometimes grew a little jealous of the men he saw at those clubs who circled around each other in a different way. They’d talk and laugh and share gentle touches, and seemed to enjoy one another. No one seemed interested in enjoying Stede like that. Any time Stede tried, all he accomplished was scaring the other man away. He was too strange and too enthusiastic about things no one else cared about. No one wanted to hear about his letters and the morbid stories he collected for his research. No one wanted to listen to him ramble on about the spirit world. The only thing they seemed to stick around for was the sex. And Stede was good at that, even if he wished there was more to the encounters. But Ed didn’t follow the script. He’d asked Stede to stay. No one had ever wanted him to stay before. Stede hadn’t expected Izzy to interrupt them. He hadn’t expected that awful argument, or to see Izzy slip, or for Stede touching him to cause so much pain, or to find out that his colleague might be lying to him. He hadn’t expected any of it. But out of everything unexpected that had happened, the most unexpected thing of all was this: it was dawn, with a hint of reddish light coming in through the window, and Izzy was still holding his hand.
March 7, 2025 at 2:12 PM