angst-fairygodmother

[angst-fairygodmother]

Writing Game!

Send me a character or pair and a number and I'll write them a 500 word or less ficlet based on that song from my Spotify Wrapped this year.

[angst-fairygodmother]

hi boo!!!! for your spotify game, how about diego andddddd 20??

btw i miss u <3

Bon! I miss you too! 💙 Sorry I haven't been around too much. Life is weird.

Anyway. I am kissing you on the mouth for this one (platonically) because it was PERFECT.

A/N: This is over 500 words, but it just sort of spilled out. I definitely could have written a lot things for this (including some Diego/Lila fixing but meh). And it doesn't even totally ignore S4, just the bullshit ending. Word Count: 747 (wrote it out of me at the speed of one too) Rating: T - pretty tame other than some language Spotify Wrapped Short Fics

Diego Hargreeves was a difficult man to understand, even for himself some day. Some might even say impossible. Maybe part of it came from the number of timelines he had lived, or not lived, through. Timelines where you were dead, or he was dead - had never been born? - or you were alive but living a life totally unknown to him, and he had another wife, who wasn’t unlike you in a lot of ways but wasn’t the same, and they had a whole three kids, picket fence life until she got bored and lost and cheated on him with his older-younger-twin? brother. 

But maybe that wasn’t it at all. You couldn’t put your finger on the reasons, and you weren’t sure they mattered at all. Maybe all that mattered was that in this timeline, they had died and then not died, and the children had been erased, and everything was forgotten - even now all those things you’d both seen and done were distant and foggy like a dream - but then you all found each other again. And she chose him, not his brother, and he chose you. And now you were sitting in a café with your perfectly ordinary friends and family around, listening to him give a speech with no sign of a stutter in sight about you, for your perfectly ordinary birthday (which was a perfectly ordinary birth, and you just happened to share it with your perfectly ordinary boyfriend and several perfectly ordinary friends that were a found second family now). 

Friends and family that were staring at you, expectantly. Shit. Had he asked a question?

“I…don’t know?” you asked, immediately regretting it as his face fell and your heart plummeted to the floor. That was definitely not the answer he was expecting, and the room was still dead silent and watching. 

“Fuck. Sorry. I mean…I…to be honest sweetheart, I wasn’t listening. I mean I was, but I zoned out a little bit. I just couldn’t help it. I was listening to you and you were being so sweet and adoring and I started asking ‘why?’ and then my mind was off: why do you love me, of all seven billion or whatever people in the world? The same way I can’t help thinking while we’re watching a movie, ‘why does my windowbox always sprout fucking marigolds no matter what I do?’ or ‘why do people like dogs that can’t breathe because their faces are so smushed?’ or ‘why does the sun rise and set, and why in the directions that it does?’ Why would you love me? I’m an asshole, exhibit A. And at the same time I was asking why you love me, I was asking why do I love you?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in that cute little way they did when he got contemplatively angry, and everyone was still staring and you could feel your neck heating to an inferno. So you plowed onward. 

“I mean why does anyone love anyone? But then I started thinking that it doesn’t matter. None of those questions need answers, for the world to go on and them to keep being true. I’m sure Five will have some boring, unromantic bullshit lecture prepared about chemicals and hormones, and also tell me how there are answers to all the science-y ones I asked, but I don’t want there to be, so he had better keep his damn mouth shut,” you shot a glare at the man in the corner who was definitely about to interrupt before looking back at Diego with your full attention.

“I love you. More than I can possibly express. There’s not a how, or a why, or limit, or a reason. It’s just…it’s fact. Incontrovertible, foundation of the universe, fact. So you have every right to be angry, and I am happy for you to be angry, and it won’t change anything. But I don’t have an answer for you, except I don’t know. And I love you.” 

He was shaking his head fondly, and walking toward you, and goddamnit the whole room was still staring but it didn’t matter because it was just you and him when he kissed you softly. 

“I’m going to take that trainwreck as a yes,” he teased, pulling back to press his forehead to yours and slip a delicate silver ring shaped like braided rope and brambles onto your finger.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh, now I get why that was a bad answer. Definitely yes.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

63 with Nolan Price?

Darling Nonny, I appreciate your request, but I am going to have to ask you to pick a different number. 63 is a joke song that ended up being way catchier than it had any right to be. And fueled my packing rage when I was moving over the summer for some reason.

I...can't write a fic with this:

Spotify Wrapped Short Fics

[angst-fairygodmother]

hi boo!!!! for your spotify game, how about diego andddddd 20??

btw i miss u <3

Bon! I miss you too! 💙 Sorry I haven't been around too much. Life is weird.

Anyway. I am kissing you on the mouth for this one (platonically) because it was PERFECT.

A/N: This is over 500 words, but it just sort of spilled out. I definitely could have written a lot things for this (including some Diego/Lila fixing but meh). And it doesn't even totally ignore S4, just the bullshit ending. Word Count: 747 (wrote it out of me at the speed of one too) Rating: T - pretty tame other than some language Spotify Wrapped Short Fics

Diego Hargreeves was a difficult man to understand, even for himself some day. Some might even say impossible. Maybe part of it came from the number of timelines he had lived, or not lived, through. Timelines where you were dead, or he was dead - had never been born? - or you were alive but living a life totally unknown to him, and he had another wife, who wasn’t unlike you in a lot of ways but wasn’t the same, and they had a whole three kids, picket fence life until she got bored and lost and cheated on him with his older-younger-twin? brother. 

But maybe that wasn’t it at all. You couldn’t put your finger on the reasons, and you weren’t sure they mattered at all. Maybe all that mattered was that in this timeline, they had died and then not died, and the children had been erased, and everything was forgotten - even now all those things you’d both seen and done were distant and foggy like a dream - but then you all found each other again. And she chose him, not his brother, and he chose you. And now you were sitting in a café with your perfectly ordinary friends and family around, listening to him give a speech with no sign of a stutter in sight about you, for your perfectly ordinary birthday (which was a perfectly ordinary birth, and you just happened to share it with your perfectly ordinary boyfriend and several perfectly ordinary friends that were a found second family now). 

Friends and family that were staring at you, expectantly. Shit. Had he asked a question?

“I…don’t know?” you asked, immediately regretting it as his face fell and your heart plummeted to the floor. That was definitely not the answer he was expecting, and the room was still dead silent and watching. 

“Fuck. Sorry. I mean…I…to be honest sweetheart, I wasn’t listening. I mean I was, but I zoned out a little bit. I just couldn’t help it. I was listening to you and you were being so sweet and adoring and I started asking ‘why?’ and then my mind was off: why do you love me, of all seven billion or whatever people in the world? The same way I can’t help thinking while we’re watching a movie, ‘why does my windowbox always sprout fucking marigolds no matter what I do?’ or ‘why do people like dogs that can’t breathe because their faces are so smushed?’ or ‘why does the sun rise and set, and why in the directions that it does?’ Why would you love me? I’m an asshole, exhibit A. And at the same time I was asking why you love me, I was asking why do I love you?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in that cute little way they did when he got contemplatively angry, and everyone was still staring and you could feel your neck heating to an inferno. So you plowed onward. 

“I mean why does anyone love anyone? But then I started thinking that it doesn’t matter. None of those questions need answers, for the world to go on and them to keep being true. I’m sure Five will have some boring, unromantic bullshit lecture prepared about chemicals and hormones, and also tell me how there are answers to all the science-y ones I asked, but I don’t want there to be, so he had better keep his damn mouth shut,” you shot a glare at the man in the corner who was definitely about to interrupt before looking back at Diego with your full attention.

“I love you. More than I can possibly express. There’s not a how, or a why, or limit, or a reason. It’s just…it’s fact. Incontrovertible, foundation of the universe, fact. So you have every right to be angry, and I am happy for you to be angry, and it won’t change anything. But I don’t have an answer for you, except I don’t know. And I love you.” 

He was shaking his head fondly, and walking toward you, and goddamnit the whole room was still staring but it didn’t matter because it was just you and him when he kissed you softly. 

“I’m going to take that trainwreck as a yes,” he teased, pulling back to press his forehead to yours and slip a delicate silver ring shaped like braided rope and brambles onto your finger.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh, now I get why that was a bad answer. Definitely yes.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Taking Requests this year for:

-Law and Order OG or SVU

-Haven

-The Librarians

-Derek/Ryne (optionally with Chickens)

-Diego Hargreeves or Luther Hargreeves

Writing Game!

Send me a character or pair and a number and I'll write them a 500 word or less ficlet based on that song from my Spotify Wrapped this year.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Writing Advice:

1. Write what's in your heart

2. Wait, hold up

3. THIS is what's in your heart?

4. Dear god

5. Your poor characters.

6. Why is there so much blood and death?

[angst-fairygodmother]

Pleeeeeease write a good version of Fivla.

I'm still not taking requests, and even if I was that is a hard notp, and also technically against my previously set rules (although Aiden is no longer under 18 so I guess not).

Also there is no good version.

And I'm guessing this is the same person that literally just called me a hater on my personal blog, so why would you even want me to?

[angst-fairygodmother]

Puuuuuleeeeease tell me you have something planned for after that disaster.??????????????????????????

Hello dear,

I do plan on writing something in response to that shitshow. I don't know yet if it will be fix-it, or AU, or just plain ignoring it, etc. but I will write something.

I just need some time to work out my feelings, and deal with some real world stuff (work is the worst, always in the way of doing fun things) first.

In the meantime, please spread this love to my fellow writers. I'm sure all of us are itching to undo what Steve Blackman did.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hello friends,

I have not watched season 4 of The Umbrella Academy.

I will not be able to do so until this weekend.

Please do not message me requests, especially not with spoilers in them, until at least then. (Also my requests are technically closed at the moment, so please don't message me any until I decide if I'm going to reopen them for this.)

Thanks!

EDIT: I have now watched the season. I am still not ready for requests. But I will probably write...something, at some point.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Why is writing a children's story so hard?

[angst-fairygodmother]

MOOD!

[angst-fairygodmother]

Trying to write? More like taking my brain by the ankles and trying to shake it down for pocket change (ideas).

[angst-fairygodmother]

[angst-fairygodmother]

I've been really enjoying my nostalgic, mostly mid 2010s rewatches, and it's jiggling loose some of the cobwebs in my brain

[angst-fairygodmother]

I've been really enjoying my nostalgic, mostly mid 2010s rewatches, and it's jiggling loose some of the cobwebs in my brain

[angst-fairygodmother]

🌹 plz. For anyone new you have if you have someone

Hello love, I don't have much that's new, that's likely to go on here. But I have been dabbling with both of my Baldur's Gate characters (there are so many little missing scenes to fill in, it's delicious). So, please enjoy a snippet from one of those, as I put my Gale-mancing cleric of Mystra through it:

“Did I choose the wrong goddess?” “What?” He seemed taken aback by her question, or maybe the wavering in her voice. Of course he was. She had been, as he already put it, their fearless leader, plunging onward without doubt or hesitation, fully confident even when it was a bluff. “I’ve been devout to Mystra since I was a child. I…I don't know who I’d be without her. But how can I, knowing that she would so easily ask someone to die just to please her, still give her that faith?”