4 Works by 2largebreadcrumbs
Listing Works
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Summary
Romeo’s life changed forever when he crossed paths with the son of Geppetto a little earlier than usual. Krat was complicated enough before disaster struck–and the cracks were already showing.
Years later, Geppetto’s Puppet is intent on uncovering what caused the disaster and saving Krat. It doesn't matter that everything is a little bit familiar and he's the only puppet who can lie.
“'Listen to me, Romeo,' Mama rattled. 'You do whatever you’ve got to do. Lie, cheat, steal… keep yourself alive…' She went quiet for so long he thought she might be done, then said, 'keep your own heart beating. I don’t… I don’t care how…' She coughed."
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"P draws his rapier with a flick and stalks for the courtyard. He shouldn’t even really call what happened to him ‘dying’. Puppets don’t die, they break.
He is a machine, and he will do what he was brought back to do."Past and present blend together and everything's symmetrical. Things go mostly how they should, then a lot how they shouldn't. Ongoing.
Act One - Complete
Act Two - Ongoing -
Rupaul's Shinobi Race by 2largebreadcrumbs for Axiio11
Fandoms: Naruto (Anime & Manga), RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
11 Mar 2026
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It's the latest season of Rupaul's Drag Race, and this season, he has a very special cast of characters--and judges.
Aspiring small-town drag queen Naruto Uzumaki, long-time fan, long-time auditioner, has dreamt of only one thing for his entire career: to be America's Next Drag Superstar...
...But it'd be a lot easier if that annoying, pretty, up-tight queen from her same area with the signature red contacts would just go home already. She's ruined enough of Naruto's life already.
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P watches the blood trickle from the mask and onto his fingertips.
P does something he’s never done before. He startles, dropping the mask with a clatter. He grabs his wrist to stop the malfunction shaking his knuckles.
The blood feels hot.
or
Four times P draws blood in a fight, and one time he draws it outside of one.
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Summary
Even there, in the dim, warm light of the jazz club he’d never shown to anyone, listening to a song Akira knew he ought to be sick of, there was a plasticity to him. He wasn’t smiling, not quite; but it was the expression of someone awaiting a pleasant surprise, who could smile at the drop of a hat or the quiet click of a camera.
Or, a conversation about cycles.