#still not over it how hot Michael us as Lucian

[trashboatprince]

Werewolf Aziraphale but he turns into an huge affectionate Samoyed, Crowley deals with this every full moon

I'm just... picturing the fluffiest wolfman in history.

Werewolf Aziraphale, my beloved, how many fics have I read of you? (Michael Sheen is just so good as playing wolfmen, even if he's only been Lucian, but that's enough.)

Warning: mentioned transformation, this has human Crowley in it and they live with Aziraphale

On with the fic!

--

"You don't have to lock yourself in the bedroom every time you change, ya know?" Crowley said as they leaned on the door, hearing shuffling sounds, as if someone was removing their clothing in a very fussy way.

"Yes, I know." Came the huffy reply, there was just the slightest hint of a growl in it. Not in an angry way, but an actual growl. "It's just... embarrassing, you know?"

"I've been with you for five years, angel, I've seen you bare as anything." Crowley smirked and snickered at the stammering from the other side of the door, knowing Aziraphale had to be red-faced.

There was a scoff and then it got quiet. "I'll scratch the door when I'm ready for you to open it."

"I know." Crowley smiled, then promptly tried to ignore the sounds coming from their shared bedroom. They knew what it looked like, they were used to it, but the sounds still made them squirm.

It was over quickly, and then there was the tell-tale scratching, gentle, to not ruin the wood. Always the fussy one, their boyfriend was. They opened the door and looked up at the large, white, fluffy beast of a man-shaped wolf that they called angel.

Then Crowley swiftly moved out of the way as Aziraphale charged out of the room and rushed for outside on all fours, his body a furry mess.

"You've barely been a wolf for two minutes and already there's hair everywhere!" Crowley complained, seeing white hair gently floating to the floor.

They'd have to get out the brush tonight, it was getting warm again, which meant Aziraphale needed to shed his winter coat. Why the hell did werewolves have winter coats!? They were human most of the time, it's not like humans have to shed their hair when it got hot!

But for now, Aziraphale needed to run, or else things in their cottage were going to be knocked around, and Crowley had spent all day spring cleaning. Aziraphale was at the backdoor, looking excited, and Crowley had to bite their tongue to not make any dog jokes. Aziraphale may give into his more wolfy instincts, but he was still aware of when Crowley made a joke, and they'd never hear the end of it when Aziraphale could speak again.

The one time he was asked if he wanted to go for walkies...

Approaching the door, Crowley was suddenly being nuzzled and cooed at by Aziraphale's large head, feeling the muzzle bump against their face a few times. Damnit, why was he so cute? Werewolves need to be scary, not be big, fluffy puppies with bad teeth.

"Alright, alright, calm your furry tits." Crowley huffed, smiling, and threw open the door. They yelled as they were knocked to the floor by the massive form that went right out to run around for a few hours. They sputtered and spat out loose, white hair, then grumbled about the hair all over their black shirt and sweats.

"You're cleanin' all of this in the mornin', angel!" They shouted out the door, knowing that they were just going to give in and do it themself in about half an hour.

--

Crowley leaves all the dog jokes for when Aziraphale is not within earshot.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Still The One (Part 5)

Summary: Just when things seem to be calming down, the reader and Dean get some news that things aren’t over yet...

Masterlist

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, referenced domestic abuse, minor violence, fluff

______

“So,” said Dean a few hours later. You were settled in bed with your pint of ice cream, wrapped up in one of Dean’s t shirts and a blanket. After the store, he’d made tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner, something nice and warm to fill you up.

“Michael scared me. A lot. I thought I had to be strong all of the time for you to help you recover and...well that wasn’t the best thing for me,” you said.

“Y/N. I can’t guarantee I won’t need you to pick me up some days. But the days where I needed you, where I was a fucking mess and you probably didn’t even know it because I kept it hidden, those days are gone. I have bad days, you have bad days. We take care of each other, it’s that simple,” he said. “No one, and I mean no one, understands what you’re going through more than me. Why do you think I pushed you to go talk to Dr. Porter? I knew you were hurting too.”

“It’s not the same as you,” you said.

“Okay, it’s not but no one’s pain is the same, sweetheart. It doesn’t mean mine’s worse than yours,” he said. You dug at your ice cream a bit before you held up the spoon to him, Dean smiling as he took a bite. You got your own and rested your head on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Getting punched hurts way more than I thought it would,” you said. “Everything was just so weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone came up with this plan to get you out. We all knew...we didn’t know the exact situation but we knew you needed help. But after Michael dragged me inside and down to the basement, the person I thought I wanted to come save me wasn’t my dad or a cop. It was you, even though I knew logically there was no way you were in the right head space or physically capable of doing it. It was weird.”

“I don’t think it’s weird. The first person I thought of was you. I kept thinking, Y/N’s smart, she’ll figure out I didn’t mean it. She’ll call the police and get me out of this situation somehow. It’s not weird at all,” he said. You hummed and handed him the ice cream, Dean eating for a bit as you dancing your fingers over his chest.

“That’s the first thing you’ve told me about what Michael’s did to you in Texas,” you said.

“Texas was different than the stuff that happened here,” he said.

“I imagine he wasn’t happy.”

“He hurt me some, which obviously you knew. It wasn’t as bad as you were,” he said. 

“You can tell me when you’re ready, Dean. It doesn’t have to be tonight,” you said.

“He had me in that basement, tied up, similar situation to you and he sat in a chair across from me and he talked, for hours. Hours and hours. He wouldn’t shut up,” said Dean. “He talked about you. He knew all about you. He was stalking you. He told me in very, very explicit detail what he was going to do to you if I as so much as took one swing at him. So I did what he asked and sat there quietly. Not even a snarky comment. I couldn’t live with myself is something happened to you. But it happened anyways and it was still my fault. If I’d stayed away from you, you never would have nearly been killed.”

“Dr. Porter made me remember a few things today,” you said, looking up at him. “Whenever you get in a fight, when I get in a fight, we’ve always had each other’s backs. I will always stand up for you. It wasn’t your fault. It isn’t. When it comes to fighting for you, even you can’t stop me.”

“I love you.”

You smiled and he put the ice cream aside, cupping your cheek before he gave you an oh so sweet kiss.

“I thought you weren’t ready to say it.”

“I have been ready to say it since I was five years old and twelve years old and sixteen years old and twenty seven years old, Y/N. I was always so afraid of you running off and leaving me behind,” he said. His hand reached around and found yours, lacing your fingers together. “You are the one thing I’ve never had to be scared of.”

“I love you too,” you said. You leaned up and kissed him. Dean was far more relaxed than you were used to, your heart swelling up that he finally felt safe and loved again. “I love you so much.”

“Don’t go all mushy on me, sweetheart,” he said.

“Too late,” you said, pulling him into a big hug. 

“Alright. You can mush,” he said as he returned it. “We could both do with some.”

Two Weeks Later

“Dean,” you said, walking out to the garage. “Did you leave my…”

He was standing at his tool bench, staring down at an envelope.

“De?”

“I got the mail. Someone put these inside,” said Dean. You walked over and looked down, pictures of you and Dean from the past few weeks laid out. 

“Someone’s watching us,” you said. “The phone thing. They thought maybe Michael had a partner. Did you-“

“What? Partner?”

“They thought maybe-“

“When exactly were you going to tell me about this?” he asked. 

“Dean, I didn’t know. It was up in the air. Sam and our dads are looking into it,” you said.

“While you what, babysit me? You think I’m gonna break if I know there’s still some nut job out there that wants me?” he said, his face in a scowl. “Fuck you.”

“Dean-“

“No. I have a right to know. Keeping me in the dark...screw all of you,” he said as he stormed inside. He went straight to the hall closet and pulled out a backpack, throwing it over his shoulders.

“Where are-“

“Do not lie to me,” said Dean, getting in your face. A flash of hurt crossed it and he spun around. “Everyone’s a fucking liar.”

“De-“ you got out before he was out in the garage and in Baby. You put your hands on the door, Dean glaring at you. “Just let me know you’re safe when you get where you’re going.”

“What do you care?” he said before he was backing out and tearing out of there.

“Cause I love you you big damn idiot,” you said to yourself, running your hands over your face. “Please be safe, Dean.”

“Dean, we need to talk,” you called when you heard the front door open an hour later. You stepped out to the hall when you didn’t hear anything more.

Standing in front of you was Michael.

He shoved you and you fell backwards, taking a deep breath.

“You’re supposed to be in prison. The police-”

“Did you really think I don’t have contingency plans when it comes to Dean? He is mine,” snarled Michael.

“You were shot they said. You-”

“Do you have any idea how much money I come from? There’s always someone to bribe,” he said as he stalked over to you. “I see things are going just peachy around home. You and Dean playing house still or is that finally over?”

“Stay away from him,” you said as you got to your feet.

“Oh, you got this all wrong. You stay away from him or I will finish what I started,” he said.

“We know you have a partner,” you said, Michael narrowing his eyes.

“Good for you,” said Michael, getting in your face, hot air fanning over your face. “Now I know you don’t quite understand and I wouldn’t expect you to. You and I are going on a little trip. Depending on how that trip goes will depend on what happens to you. Understand?”

“Over my dead body,” you said. 

“I didn’t say you had to be a willing participant.”

You woke up groggy in the backseat of a SUV, Michael shoving you awake from where he drove.

“You punched me,” you breathed out, trying to get your bearings from where you sat on the floor.

“Tied you up too,” he said. You sighed and felt your hands and feet bound, closing your eyes for a moment. “Listen. This ain’t personal. I gotta teach Dean there’s consequences to his actions. Now I know he didn’t go and ask you to get him so I’m going to cut him some slack. But I have to show him I’m a man of my word so from now on, he knows.”

“I seriously doubt beating me again will make him like you, psycho,” you said.

“He loves me,” he grit out. “He’s just shy.”

“Sure,” you said. “I bet that’s it, nutjob.”

“Be quiet,” he said. “No more talking.”

About an hour later Michael had pulled off the road onto a dirt one. You were grateful when it’d finally stopped and Michael parked the vehicle.

You swallowed when he opened the door behind you, a piece of tape going over your mouth. He pulled you out and threw you over his shoulder, walking for a bit until he plopped you down on the hard ground. A cabin was in front of you, Michael knocking on the door once before he went back to you.

You narrowed your eyes when a man maybe just a few years older than Michael stepped outside.

“She the girlfriend?” asked the man. “The one that nearly kicked your ass?”

“I was this close to killing her. I would have if you let me,” said Michael. You stared at the other man, the one obviously in charge.

“Well if we’re gonna kill people for falling in love with people we’re not supposed to,” said the man, giving Michael a look. “Excuse my lovestruck brother. He thinks with his heart and not his head when it comes to Dean.”

The man bent down and pulled off the tape, offering you a water bottle you were forced to accept.

“What do you want. You let me see your face,” you said.

“Always a cop’s daughter it seems,” he said. “I’m Lucian. John Winchester ruined our father’s life and eventually took him from us. We, originally, intended to return the act in kind. Until my brother grew...fond of Dean. We came to an agreement and I believe the three of us can do so as well. Stay away from Dean and he lives. You both do. Leave him be and you can go back to your normal life.”

“If I don’t accept,” you said.

“Well...my brother gets jealous as I’m sure you’re well aware by now. Accept or he will tear you apart in front of Dean and the last thing I need is to clean up the mess,” said Lucian.

“He hurts Dean,” you said.

“And I’ve talked to Michael about that. When Dean is reunited with my brother, I’m sure it’ll be rough at first but Dean’s smart. He’ll figure things out quickly just as I’m sure you’re figuring things out very quickly,” said Lucian.

“How do you know I’ll keep my mouth shut,” you said. Lucian looked over at a shed, Michael going over and opening the door. A slightly bruised and unconscious Dean was inside, your eyes wide. 

“Plans change. I will just as quickly kill him as you if I need to. So. Do we have an understanding?”

“Applesauce,” you said. 

“Uh, what?” he asked. You turned back to look at him, Lucian raising an eyebrow. 

“I said go fuck yourself,” you said, curling up into a tight ball. You heard a lot of shouts but no shooting, someone in tactical gear rushing over to you and cutting you free after about thirty seconds. The second you were out you were over to Dean, watching him stir awake and grimace. “Hey.”

“Sounds like it worked,” said Dean with a soft smile. Michael stared over at the two of you, clenching his fists before he was walked away. “My psychopath saved my ass. Not sure how to feel about that one.”

“I guess he draws the line at you winding up dead. I thought you were for a second. This is not how being bait was supposed to go,” you said.

“Glad I woke up again,” said Dean as he got to his feet. You pulled him into a hug, Dean returning. “Did he hurt you?”

“Just a bruise. I’m okay,” you said. “You?”

“Not okay,” he said. “I’ll get there though.”

“Dean,” said your dad as he walked over, pulling you into a hug. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Alright,” said Dean. You went with him to a police car, Michael leaned up against the side of one. “What?”

“Lucian went too far with the stalking and bugging your home and kidnapping you. I-“

“Your brother wanted to kill me. You wanted...your brother I understand. For him, this was revenge. You though, I never will,” said Dean.

“But...I saved you,” said Michael.

“After you changed the plan we all agreed to with the police and kidnapped my girlfriend for real. You hurt her. You never were supposed to do that. She was never supposed to be here. You wanted her here so that you could try to control me. Again. So what the fuck could you possibly try to say to me?”

“I don’t like her,” said Michael. 

“I don’t like you,” said Dean. He pulled back his fist and decked Michael, your dad pushing him back. “He didn’t follow the plan! He tried to get her killed and-“

“And he will go away. Kid, take a walk. Now,” he said. Dean huffed and walked away, Michael glaring at you.

“This is all your fault,” said Michael. “We were fine until you started to talk to him.”

“No, me talking to him was the best thing for him,” you said. You turned away before spinning back around, kneeing him in the groin. “Dick.”

You went over to Dean who was shaking out his fist.

“Forget him,” you said. “He’s nuts.”

“The nutjob told us his brother was planning to get rid of us both,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and let out a deep breath. “He-”

“It doesn’t matter. Michael and his brother are gone and you never have to worry ever again. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Babe? What are you doing?” you asked that night. Dean shut the blinds to the backyard and wandered over to the couch, laying down with his head in your lap. “No one’s out there.”

“Funny feeling is all,” he said. You ran your fingers over his head, Dean curling into you. “I thought life was a nightmare before.”

You didn’t know what to say so you kept your mouth shut and slid down the couch, holding onto him. 

“Sweetheart. It’s not all a nightmare, you know. There’s a pretty damn good part of this that is the only reason I’ve made it this far,” he said.

“No, it’s not the only reason,” you said. “You came to me. You did all that on your own. I couldn’t even…”

“Y/N,” said Dean, sitting up and pulling you into his lap. “It’s not on you to save me from the bad guys.”

“Yeah it is. It’s how this has always worked. Since we were five years old it’s been that way,” you said. “I told you he wouldn’t hurt-”

“He didn’t hurt me. Not really. I know he was going to hurt you and that...that’s what fucked me up this time. Like you said, it’s how it’s always been. But this time...this time, even though I’m still...afraid of him, I was a whole lot more pissed off. He’s not winning. He doesn’t get any more say in my life. I get to pick from now on,” he said.

“Yeah, you do,” you said softly.

“I pick you,” he said, bumping his nose against your own. “Always. You’ve been saving me this whole damn time. I’ll never be able to repay that.”

“You don’t have to, Dean. I do it and I’ll always do it because I love you,” you said. “It’s that simple.”

“I almost asked you to prom,” he said softly. “If I had-”

“Lucian was coming no matter what. There was no stopping this. He’s going away and Michael’s going away and we can move on. You can move on,” you said.

“I still feel stuck,” he said.

“Then let’s get you unstuck. I have a perfect idea for that too.”

“Hm,” you hummed, tucked into Dean’s side the next evening. 

“Cozy?” he asked.

“Yup,” you said, looking up at him. “You?”

“I think a quiet vacation away was exactly what we needed,” he said. “Someplace to relax.”

“Me too. There’s some great fishing spots around. You still like to fish, right?” you asked.

“I still fish,” he chuckled. “Last time I took you we were seventeen and you hated it.”

“I hated it because you were going on and on about Brandi Mullens and I wanted to throttle you. I was so in love with you and you didn’t even know it,” you said.

“Brandi Mullens had nothing on you,” he said. “I only went out with her to make you jealous.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“Teenage boys are stupid, sweetheart,” he giggled. “Ten years ago that was.”

“You better not talk about Brandi Mullens tomorrow,” you smirked. “I might get a little jealous.”

“No, no. Tomorrow I plan on making out with you and gushing over you until you’re blushing while we fish and you pretend to like it because it’s something I enjoy doing,” he said.

“Well I was planning on talking about Calvin Pulver,” you said. Dean sat up and dropped his jaw. You started to giggle and he leaned over top of you. 

“You liked Calvin Pulver? He was a douchebag!” said Dean.

“I know. You hated him. God, I almost went out with him once to try and make you jealous but that was the night of your mom’s car accident,” you said. Dean lay on his side and looked at you, playing with a strand of your hair. “We were so stupid back then.”

“I biked over to your house, rang your doorbell and started bawling my eyes out. I just remember you catching me and dragged me up to your room and you held me,” he said. 

“I knew that night that I loved you, not just a crush, first love kind of way either. Down in your core kind of love. It hurt to see you hurt like that,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “My dad drove us to the hospital.”

“You stayed with me in that waiting room for days,” said Dean. “You just wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“You and Sam needed someone to fall on while your dad tried to keep it together. I was more than happy to do it,” you said.

“The night I came to your door, the night I got out of there a few months back, I knew if I could get to that door, I’d be alright. I knew you would take care of me again,” he said.

“No more knocking on my door asking for help from now on. Just roll over in bed and I’ll be right here,” you said. He smiled, nuzzling into your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said. He kissed the tip of your nose, resting his forehead against your own. “So a fun day of fishing and making out is on the schedule for tomorrow then. Any other requests?”

“Sleeping in?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “I have one.”

“Shoot.”

“I want to take you to dinner in town,” he said. “I have been waiting my whole life to take you to dinner and I really don’t want to wait one more day.”

“That sounds perfect, Dean,” you said, smiling when he kissed you. “You doing okay today?”

“For the first time in a long, long time, I’m doing amazing, sweetheart,” he said. You booped his nose with yours, Dean looking at you with a soft look on his face. “Thank you.”

“Never have to thank me, Dean. I got your back, you got my back. It’s how it’s always been.”

“How it always will be, too,” he said. “Always.”

_____

[thelunaticdaughterofhades]

Unlucky or Lucky?

My whole life, I was trapped in a cave of loneliness. There was nothing but darkness, everywhere. No light, not even a fake one. It was suffocating. It was uncomfortable. It was all black.

But then… it was also nice. Being alone was also nice. The monsters aren’t monsters because I am more afraid of the humans than them. Sure, it was dark, it suffocates me, but it was also good. Also…

My world revolves around two things:

My apartment, which has a kitchen; where the foods are always restocked by my sister when she checks up on me, a dim-lighted living room and a bedroom with a bed situated beside a huge glass window I always cover up with dark-colored curtains, a bookshelf with a couple of my favorite books, and a computer desk.

Then, the internet. Where I become someone I am not. A cheery, lively person who is capable of screaming, laughing and making puns (at least that’s what I write). Not only that, I also have friends, friends suffering like me. Friends, who make the internet their comfort zone. We mostly talk about funny stuff, but we never share our experiences twice. I don’t know, for private purposes maybe? To forget about the harsh reality even in this virtual world?

It’s just that, here, out here, I’m not the me I am in real life. No. I’m not that weak girl. I don’t have low self-esteem. I am not pathetic. I am not… unlucky.

I am not…

I am…

I am just faking myself. To feel fake love, fake happiness, fake adoration. We are. We all are.

But then, what’s wrong with a little love?

*ding*

A message. From whom? Anna? Sarah? Michael?

Oh. Someone I don’t know. Lucian?. It doesn’t ring a bell.

‘Yes?’ I answered to his greeting. He replied quickly saying he finds my comments funny and relatable. Then, he offered friendship which I immediately accepted.

A nine-o’clock conversation ended at midnight, where lots of puns was made, lots of memes were send and iconic movie quotes were quoted over and over again. Surprisingly, after that talk, a smile was pasted in my face.

I shrug off all thoughts and went inside the bathroom to cleanse my face. It’s still there. I’m still smiling.

The next day was still pretty normal, just how I usually do my day, just a slight difference. We were talking, from sunrise to midnight. Smile on the face, chuckles from time to time.

It was weird. The cave was still dark but there was a slight ray of light. Not very far from where I’m standing but not very close either. It was comforting, breath-taking, heartwarming. But, I’m having second thoughts. I’m not sure about it. Walking to the light. I’m still… afraid because I’m very unlucky.

Months passed by and our talking never stopped. We got to know each other. He’s living in the next country, two years older than me. I know the university he goes to and his family status. We shared problems from time to time and I was slowly opening up to him. Calls were made. His voice… it was nice, comforting, masculine, and well, hot.

The cave. The darkness was slowly withering but they’re not gone. Not even a half of it. I’m still afraid. Of them, of humans. What they can say that can pierce my heart deeply. Their actions that can cut my heart in two. They are terrifying. Their voices, their faces, their stares.

But… maybe. Just maybe.

He’s...

Different.

It was this day. The eighth of October, where I decided to tell him my past. The traumatizing and full-of-pressure family, the whole school hating me, the bullying, the abuse, the self-made scars and marks. My unluckiness. There was silence after that.

One minute…

Two minutes…

Five minutes…

Ten minutes…

Was I too pathetic? Too stupid? Did I really not belong in this world?

Why? Why? Why are you ignoring me?! WHY! No, No, No. NO

As I’ve thought, they’re all the same. I’m not capable of being love, I’m not capa-

A call. He called me. He called me! Oh my gosh, what do I do? Do I answer it? But it took him a lot of time to-!

I answered it, swallowing sobs.

He had a slight connection error for seven-minutes straight. I can vouch that that did happen because some of my friends living in his country suffered the same.

It was at that time that I couldn’t control my sobs. I cried like a baby to him. Telling him everything, the pain I felt. All the time, he was there, listening, comforting. He was there.

He was there. When the days started running again and the next month came. He was there. He didn’t leave me.

The New Years came and he was there.

In the cave, I stood up. That light is not fake, it’s genuine. It’s true. It’s… mine.

‘Hey there, Romeo! I’ve just arriveeeed!’

‘Honey, sweetie, you stay here and I’ll get the rest of the bags!’

‘Yes, yes. I’ve landed safely. I’ll just go and get my bag. Yes, Mom, I’ll call you once I’m out.’

‘That guy at the seat next to us was… HOT’

‘I know right?’

The airport was filled with noise. People were calling there families, friends and partners about their departures or they were talking about the experiences they had on the flight. Back then, I would have been a really gloomy cloud with all these people. But now, I can’t help but smile.

I took out the paper where I wrote Lucian’s address and gave it to the cab driver. We stopped at an apartment overlooking a lake with a park beside it. It was a very relaxing place. It wasn’t too noisy and too quiet. It’s perfect.

Oh wait. I came here to surprise Lucian in his apartment but what if he’s not there. I never asked for his daily schedule. Should I just ask him if where he is right now? But that would ruin my surprise.

A coffee shop caught my eye. Struggling with my luggage, I walk towards it. I should probably get a cup of coffee before deciding. I could always stay in a hotel, it’s not too late anyway.

The line wasn’t long and there were a lot of vacancies. I chose the table at the far end beside the glass window. It was nice looking outside people walking, rushing towards whatever business they have. I stood up and got on the line.

‘One iced caramel latte, please.’ I muttered, fumbling through my wallet. There was silence. It seemed like the man didn’t punch my order since he was rooted to the spot. In confusion, I looked at the man.

 ‘Mallory?’

 Little did I know, my planned surprise also became my own surprise.

[ezriagame]

Why exactly do you ship Ezria so much, like i get it they are cute and are engaged but what do you see in them that is not in any other tv couple? ps. honestly curious not a salty fan :)

Why is purple your favorite color? There are so many other colors in the rainbow. Why is pizza your favorite food? There is such a variety of food in the world. Why is "so and so" your best friend? There are seven billion people in the world. Why did you marry "so and so"? Are they really that special?Do you see where I'm going here? We don't pick our favorites because we think they are the very best; we choose them because of what they mean to us and how they've intricately woven themselves into our lives and worlds. Okay, maybe that's too deep for pizza, but it works for relationships. Sometimes you just click with someone or something and you can't explain it. It's like when you meet someone for the first time and they just GET you, or you watch the first episode of a TV show or the first five minutes of a movie and you automatically know whether you're going to love it. And how do you explain your favorite color? You can't, at least not easily. I was initially drawn to Ezria's relationship because of the scandalous nature and Lucian's incredible chemistry. When the scandal started to get old, I realized I could identify with both Aria and Ezra. I fell in love with their individual characters and the actors who played them. I believe Ezria and PLL came into my life when I needed them. I connected with a lot of friends and joined a community of people I could identify with. I felt like I belonged. I was inspired to write fiction and ended up completing two pieces that are longer than many novels. Fiction-writing has become one of my favorite hobbies, when before it was something I did occasionally. I've traveled across the country because of PLL. I've learned about the art of television making. You see, my love for Ezria and PLL go beyond the actual TV show and the actual couple. It is so much more than that, much like your relationships are so much more than "just a person."You meet someone and you learn everything there is to know about them: their strengths, weaknesses, quirks, interests. You meet their friends and family, you're introduced to new hobbies and adventures. You fall in love with them (as a friend or more). Could they compete with seven billion people? Can we measure what makes them "the best"? Even if we could measure them, would we trade them for someone else? Of course not. We know they're not the Einstein of intelligence or the Michael Jordan of athletics. They're a lousy cook and whine when it's too cold or too hot and they have an ugly birthmark on their ear. But they're still our best friend. Purple is my favorite color. Pizza is my favorite food. Ezria is my favorite ship. I commend you if you've made it this far, but to sum it up..."favorite" isn't synonymous with "the very best." It's so much more than that, and often unexplainable. Also, I tend to get very attached and obsessed with things, and I'm not a fandom hopper or fair-weather fan. So while other fans may move on and obsess over a new tv show or musician when theirs isn't doing that well at the moment, I tend to stick around. And I DO like other ships on different tv shows, just not in the way I love Ezria. The End. :)