#we have update accounts in this fandom who are very quiet right now when they would be the first to post about any other world issues lol

[ltpolari]

doesn't surprise me considering this: louisshomesharry/732996598339108864

oh

[sister-dear]

2021 Writing Wrapup!

This year I wrote 147,712 words and 20 stories.

My total Ao3 wordcount more than doubled this year! With chapter stories accounted for, that's 39 posts, an average of a story update every 9 - 10 days. Which means I exceeded my goal of posting every two weeks!

Thank you to everyone who read, left kudos, reblogged, commented, beta’d, rec’d, acted as a sounding board, chatted in discord servers, or otherwise provided the encouragement to keep writing. You all are what makes this fandom so fun to create for. <3

Gonna combine this with the Writer Year in Review Meme suggested by @wutheringmights and include a little excerpt from one of each month's stories.

January

They all look worried. Serious. Not quite meeting his eyes. Sky thinks they’re afraid for more than his health. No, actually, he’s sure of it. They’re waiting for some kind of negative reaction.

So Sky gives them his gentlest smile, and summons the strength for a full sentence, searching for something that will ease the tension. What makes it past his lips is, “The name Four makes so much sense now.”

-Handle With Care (This year’s most popular oneshot!)

February

Vio nods. Blue points an accusatory finger at his brother. “You’re manipulating me and it won’t work.”

-Keep From Cold

March

Hyrule sighs. It’s full of understanding. Legend wishes he could say the same of himself. Light pressure returns to the back of his head. “Legend?” Legend shakes his head as best he can without removing his face from the safety of Hyrule’s hip. All his biting words dry up, wither and die in his throat.

-This Will Be My Monument

April

Legend crouches by Sky to pass him a potion, stiff and moving like a man three times his age. Sky frowns at it. “Is there enough?” He knows as well as Legend does that potions are like gold when they have no idea how long they’ll be down here or what they’ll encounter.

Legend makes an exasperated noise. “Sky. You can’t walk. I’m not carrying you through this dungeon.”

-My Heart’s Forsaken Me, chapter 3 (Most popular story of the year!)

May

Four is slow to look up at him, distant and guarded.

“Unless you have any objections, I would very much like to hug you.” Four blinks at him. Dips his chin in the tiniest of nods.

Time picks him right up off his feet. His armor is in their room, so there are no harsh lines of hard metal between them, only Four’s ribs under his hands and his head tucked in next to Time’s. Four hugs back, his arms hooked around Time’s neck, one hand curled around the back of Time’s head, just as fierce. “You already had my respect.” Time says the words low, his head near Four’s, just for him to hear. “But it’s doubly true now.”

-My Heart’s Forsaken Me, chapter 6

June

His smile is twisted, a little bitter. Not an expression Wild is used to seeing on Hyrule’s face. “It’s not like I’ve got much else to offer. Just a cave. Who wants to live in a cave?” The words are sharp little things for all that they’re quiet. Prickling, drawing little drops of blood out from Hyrule’s heart and putting them on display for Wild to see. They should be out of place in this kitchen full of welcome and warmth, but they’re not. They fall into place like the knives in the block, encouraging Wild to respond in kind.

-I Got You, Chapter 2

July

There’s a trick to knocking back a potion. Straight to the back of the tongue to minimize the taste, swallow as quickly as possible. Hyrule has plenty of practice at it by now. That doesn’t mean the bitterness disappears as it’s going down. Hyrule lifts his head, wiping at his mouth with a grimace, only to find Zelda doing the same.

“Oh, that’s foul,” Zelda breathes.

“This,” Hyrule raises the empty bottle in one hand, pointing at it with the other, “is disgusting.”

-Tea for Three

August

He leans forward, hands clasped in his lap, searching Sky’s face with intent. “How do we heal it?”

A sinking sensation adds to the disquiet in his middle.

“You don’t.” Sky tries to say it gently. Hyrule frowns. Sky thinks he sees a flicker of panic behind the focus.

-I have no fear of drowning; it's the breathing that's taking all this work

September

“What is that?” Fascination coats Sky’s voice. It doesn’t take much to get that one’s attention. Legend figures he’s safe to ignore it.

“Does it have fur?” Four sounds horrified. Slightly more worrying.

Then, a noise at his back Legend’s only ever heard in a dream.

-Meet the Family, chapter 4

October

Four freezes. Shock and disgruntlement war for space on his stunned face. The whites of his eyes show all around the edges of his irises, eyebrows a pair of arching curves, mouth all knotted up on itself like he just ate something nasty. His elbows lift away from his sides as if that’ll somehow help alleviate the feeling of wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to skin. Water drips off everything: the tips of his dangling fingers, his hair, his nose. He looks like nothing so much as a wet cat that someone’s picked up under the armpits in an attempt to keep it from scratching.

Wind’s cheeks ache with how his wide grin threatens to split his face. “Got you!”

-Ruckus and Rapport

November

Legend turns back to Twilight. “What,” he says, in a voice that doesn’t sound like his. It’s far too small.

His teeth are chattering.

Twilight squeezes his wrists and lets go, steps around Legend to dig through the chest at the foot of the berth. He comes back up with a thin blanket bundled in his arms and sympathy painted across his face.

“Don't,” Legend says.

-Nothing You Keep

December

Time looks him over. He’s gone very quiet. Hyrule finds himself reaching out to say hello in the fairy way before remembering that Time won’t hear him. A dozen different verbal apologies and greetings play through his head, none of them quite right.

Please Don’t Come For Me, chapter 5

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hi! First of all, thank you so much for running this blog, It's become one of three reasons why I haven't yet committed arson (I jest but the Feeling is true). [Hee, hee, hee.] I have a rec for you! It's called "wholesome life usurp immediately" by comfect on ao3 and it's. So good. It's unfinished but the author updates it literally every other day if not faster! It's a lovely fic, I hope you enjoy it. 🌻

Wholesome Life Usurp Immediately

by Comfect (T, 55k, yunmeng sibs, qingli, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: Wen Qing examines Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses and has a cure for her poor cultivation.

Now there are Three Prides of Yunmeng.

Everything kind of fixes itself from there.

~*~

hello mojo!! I would really like to recommend standing still (but we keep going) by lwjromantics!! it's really good!!

standing still (but we keep going)

by lwjromantics (justfantaestic) (T, 5k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji supposed that if having to take care of little A-Yuan and Mo Xuanyu and having to look at the reminders of Wei Ying in their habits and mannerisms was punishment for his actions, he would willingly take it and flay his own back open.

— There are children in the Burial Mounds.

~*~

hii mojo! I just read this cute fic and I loved it so I wanted to rec it :) 

Word Up, Talk the Talk

by Larryissocute (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary:  It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

~*~

Hey! Love your account — and proud of you for taking the hiatus you needed.  [Lol - it was really nice!]  Idk if you take fic recommendations, but I'd love to rec Roots by ardenrabbit. Fantastic characterization, I really love it!

Roots

by ardenrabbit (E, 46k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  After Wei Wuxian's duel with Jiang Cheng, he finds that stab wounds aren't so trivial when he doesn't have a core to heal them. He wakes to find Lan Zhan in the Burial Mounds with him, already beloved by the Wens and making himself at home. When Lan Zhan tells him that he wants to stay and offers more help than Wei Wuxian knows how to accept, he fears that it's only too good to be true.

Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying is doing the right thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he let him do it alone. For everything Wei Ying has sacrificed, Lan Wangji is determined to give something back to him.

Hanguang-Jun has turned his back on the clans to join the Yiling Wens and their demonic cultivator leader, and every clan has a different opinion on the matter.

~*~

Hello! I wanted to rec a fic on ao3 called "Restoration" by jelenedra. It's complete, an alternate universe of the sunshot campaign told nonlinearly. It has strong fairy tale and fae elements, with a touch of mystery. Bit of a fix it. Some delightful one liners, and the final ending imagery is just LOVELY. The fic deserves much more love. There's also some YilingWei, wwx not raised by Jiang, and sentient Burial Mounds elements. Enchanting read that keeps you enthralled and curious and intrigued.

Restoration

by jelenedra (M, 85k, wangxian)

Summary:  They say he was thrown into Luanzang Gang by the man who killed his parents; they say that he is an immortal cultivator who had been in a deep trance until the Wen sect disturbed his rest and incurred his wrath; they say that he is the fierce corpse of a cultivator who had somehow regained his mind and his spiritual powers.

When Lan Wangji sees him for the first time, he understands why people talk.

Meng Yao wants safety. Xue Yang wants vengeance. The Sunshot Campaign wants victory. Yiling Laozu provides, for a price.

~*~

I usually read all your recommendations. Thanks for gathering all good recs of wangxian. I am in love with every single story your recommend especially the favorites. [I’m so glad!]  I just wanted to suggest a fic i came across while searching for phoenix!wwx. Its a new story I think as author has published it today. The first chapter was very interesting that i thought ill recommend it you and know your opinion. The legendary phoenix and his dragon -Devipriya and Hidden Path to Love by ShadowTenshiV

Hidden Path to Love

by ShadowTenshiV (G, 78k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei Ying is a servant working at the Gusu Lan castle. One day he enters through a secret passage way connected to the library where he meets a Lan for the first time. He may have left quite an impression, gaining the other´s attention and slowly becoming friends. They would like to become something more, but a servant can´t be with a prince, but maybe his secret can change that.

~*~

hello mojo! i was wondering if I could make a fic rec? it’s called “and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow” by izanyas. it used to be on ao3 but the author has since moved it to eir own website and has started posting updates there. i was wondering if this could also act as a signal boost bc some old readers on ao3 might not have known that it is now on another website.   Author's been through a tough time so I think it deserves a lot more love.

For new readers, please mind the warnings in the prologue and the beginning of each chapter! it’s omegaverse and a very heavy read as it deals with (possible spoiler) off-screen rape that results in an unwanted pregnancy, as well as secondary gender oppression which runs deep, but for people who can bear it the writing, worldbuilding, and emotions are truly spectacular.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow

by izanyas (E, 270k, wangxian, WIP, link is to WordPress rather than AO3)

Summary: Cangse Sanren was the first of her kind to become a cultivator. Talented, passionate, free-spirited, she bested everything that ever came her way until the very end.

Jiang Fengmian refuses to see her son deprived of that same freedom.

~*~

Hello Mojo! I dunno if this's been recced before, but here's another ficrec for you? It's complete, on ao3, "The Third Young Master of Qishan Wen" by KouriArashi. It's 'if wwx was raised by dafan wen, but gets recognized as 3rd heir due to his skill' scenario. Some really nice banter and characterization. Wwx and lz get together before the sunshot campaign. Story follows the live action but diverges into au, and does some cool callbacks to original canon. Love Meng Yao in this!  [Oh, I know KouriArashi from my last fandom, I love her works!]

❤️The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen

by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, my post)

Summary:  The fic where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Dafan Mountain Wens instead of the Yunmeng Jiang.

~*~

Hi Mojo! I can count the number of times I’ve spoken on Tumblr on one hand (I’m shy heh) but I found this fic that I think you and others would really like? I’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort and this was just too sweet for me not to share (did I go through 20 pages of bookmarks just to make sure you don’t already have it? Maybe …) [Aww, you can do a sidebar search in the bookmarks for the author’s name.  But I hope you found other good fics by carding through the whole catalog!]  It’s “Close Your Soft Eyes” by timetoboldlygo! I also wanna say thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog! It’s a treasure beyond compare. :D [Thank you so much!]

Close Your Soft Eyes

by timetoboldlygo (G, 12k, wangxian)

Summary:  When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

-

On the nights that Wei Wuxian was gone, Lan Wangji woke to gifts on his pillow.

~*~

Hey Mojo! I love your blog it is beyond awesome! [Thank you!]  I was wondering if you would consider reading JaenysBloodcourt series "A Bond to Takes us home"? The summary is weird but I like the fics and would love to hear your opinion on LWJ POV (it's part 2). Part one is Mingxian but part two (Wangxian) reads as a standalone for the most part. Anyways, thank you for all your hard work! <3 [I’ll put it on my list!]

A Bond to Take Us Home

by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 10k, mingxian - nmj/wwx, wangxian, series in progress)

Summary:  Wei Wuxian has two soulmarks. He has two soulmates that seem to be the opposite of him. During his first life he meets both of them, loves only one and longs for the other. In his second life, the one he loved first is dead, and the one he pined after is pining after him.

These are the many tales of his soulmates and the raucous they made across the cultivation world.

Some are dark, some are light. Beware.

~*~

I forgot to send this in for Mother's Day a few weeks ago, but have you read dragongirlG's "into the light of a dark black night"? It's a short canon divergence where Mama Lan escapes the Cloud Recesses after spending one last, heartbreaking night with her sons. It's so beautiful and bittersweet! [Oh, ouch.  I just read this author’s time travelling juniors au, but hadn’t seen this one.]

into the light of a dark black night

by dragongirlG (T, 3k, Madam Lan & sons)

Summary:  The night that Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, plans to escape from the Cloud Recesses, she runs into an unexpected complication.

That complication comes in the form of her younger son A-Zhan running up to her door and kneeling in front of it, hushed whimpers escaping from his throat.

Wu Yuhua knows it's not the full moon, knows that it's not the one day a month she's allowed to see her children—but like hell is she going to leave her six-year-old son out there trying to stifle sobs in the snow.

She opens the door. "A-Zhan," she says, bending down and reaching out a hand. "Come in, my sweet boy."

On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses.

~*~

Hello queen I’d like to recommend for ur follower rec posts Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender by KouriArashi. Banger of an ATLA au, def the best one I’ve seen. It’s a WIP but the author updates pretty regularly and it’s all around an A+ fic [Oh, yes, I’ve been waiting for this one to finish before I jump in.]

Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender

by KouriArashi (T, 123k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  You know the drill. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

100 years later, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli find Wei Wuxian sealed in an iceberg.

Featuring: avatar WWX, waterbending JC, firebending Wens, airbending Lans, earthbending Nies and Jins, Jiang Yanli in possession of the brain cell, et cetera.

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Black of Hair (Part 3)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Ship: Robb Stark x Female!Reader

Tags: black of hair got

Summary: You and Robb are learning about each other and how to run a keep together. But are you getting along?

Part One, Part Two

Masterlist

Taglist: @akaward-potato @fuckoffupstairs @soleil-dor @depressedcuppatea @thegirlwithoutaname87

Author’s Note: I’m sorry the update has taken longer than the first two. Lots of things are happening in my life right now, good and bad, but I promise I haven’t forgotten this fic and my blogs. I plan on getting a masterlist together soon.

(I do not consent for my works to be reposted/copied)

~~~

“It was true that Adara was always a child apart. She was a very serious little girl who seldom cared to play with the others. She was beautiful, people said, but in a strange, distant sort of way, with her pale skin and wide clear blue eyes. She smiled, but not often. No one had ever seen her cry.”

You read on thoughtlessly, barely even looking at the worn pages of your book since you’ve been reading its contents since you were a small girl. You knew the tale by heart at this point. It lay open on your lap as you read out loud to Bran, who was still asleep and nearly lifeless on the bed. Opposite of his bed sat the Lady Catelyn, still weaving through a strange looking wreath and sparing a glimpse over to her son every once in awhile. She had allowed you to sit and read to Bran once you had offered, but originally it was suppose to be your way of dismissing her so that she may finally rest. Alas, she remained, disregarding her own health.

Your tale cut short when the door opened to reveal Maester Luwin. You kept quiet as he crossed over to join your side of Bran’s bed. He bows his head to you before reaching over to place a gentle hand on Bran’s forehead, You watch deliberately, having heard from Robb that Bran’s health always appeared to dwindle whenever his window was shut. Otherwise, the boy immediately got better because his direwolf, Summer, was below the window and howling madly, day in and day out. You should have felt unnerved by it, but for some reason, it calmed you. You know your father, mother, and the rest of the golden-haired lions in your family would’ve cursed the beast and order it to shut up, and perhaps that is why you do not. You always loved doing the exact opposite of what your family would do.

“It’s time we reviewed the accounts, my lady. You want to know how much this royal visit has cost us?”

Luwin’s voice cuts off your thoughts and you look up to watch Catelyn carefully. The Lady Stark hesitates before focusing back on her wreath, “Talk to Poole about it.”

The maester’s gentle face was full of pity as he calmly explained, “Poole went south with Lord Stark, my lady. We need a new steward, the princess requires your help in learning how to run this keep if she is to be the future Lady of Winterfell,” Catelyn’s falling, defeated face glimpses in your direction, and this time you couldn’t find it within yourself and look her in the eye, “And there are several other appointments that require our immediate attention--”

“I don’t care about appointments!” Her outbreak stuns you. The older woman looks much older than your mother when Lady Catelyn looks ultimately broken and out of her usual dress. She looked miserable, from her red of hair to the tips of her pink fingers. You don’t ever remember your Queen Mother ever look this distraught, even for her own children. But it wasn’t like any of them have been in harm’s way. You heard about the time Cersei lost her first boy. A little black haired beauty. You never knew your older brother and your mother never spoke of him. No one ever told you how she reacted to losing a child. You wish you could imagine it, instead of a cold lioness and her stone face whenever you close your eyes. 

“I’ll make the appointments,” you look to see that Robb had entered the room. He glances at you for a moment before referring back to Luwin, “And I’ll help my beloved learn her duties. We’ll talk about it first thing in the morning.”

“Very good, my lord,” Luwin smiles, looking between the Starks and you before bowing to both you and Catelyn, “Princess. My lady.”

The maester had just left the room before Robb gently spoke, “Y/n, leave us. Please.”

You hesitate, for only a brief moment. You look at Catelyn, but she had gone back to her weaving. You stand slowly, tucking your beloved book close to your chest before nodding towards Robb, “Yes... my love.”

You inwardly cringe at the strangeness of your voice after leaving the room. Even your septa would tell you how pathetic you sounded. It was like you weren’t even trying to pretend that you love your betrothed. You pick up your skirts while traveling down the stairs, throwing your fur cloak over your shoulders as you make it outside. Gliding through the courtyard, you debated on hiding away in the library until you looked up when the flicker of a small fire caught your eye. A gasp leaves your lips, however, when you realized it was a much bigger fire than you originally thought, and it was sprouting from the window of the library tower.

You try to shout, but others have already noticed the fire and had done the shouting for you, demanding someone ring the alarm bells as people rush around, fetching water. The bells don’t move you from your frozen spot in the middle of the courtyard, but before long, you move when someone grabs both of your arms to get you to look into their eyes. Immediately, they made you feel calm... and warm.

“Go back to Bran’s room. Stay with my mother,” Robb instructs before breaking away from you and running to help the others douse the fire. 

Your feet finally move and you turn back the way you came. 

When you raced up the stairs and back up into Bran’s room, the last thing you expected to see was a man lying dead on the floor, his throat ripped open and gushing blood. A scream threatens to escape before your eyes dart over to Catelyn, sitting up on the floor, dazed with her hands and face bloodied. Bran’s direwolf is lying snug next to his master, his muzzle stained red and watching you cautiously. 

You make the smart decision to step out of the room again to give Summer some space and ease his mind before running back out to fetch your future husband and Master Luwin.

~~~

When you returned to the room, Robb and Luwin had followed you. They had some men remove the body while you help take Lady Catelyn away. For once, she doesn’t protest. And once you perfectly stitch up and bandage her hands, she collapsed in her bed out of exhaustion. She slept for four days.

During this time, you thought you would ease the mother’s mind by staying by her sleeping son’s side. You didn’t ignore your own health as she did. You still left the room to eat and rest, but for the majority of those fours days, you remained by Bran’s side. 

“The ice dragon was a crystalline white, that shade of white that is so hard and cold that it is almost blue. It was covered with hoarfrost, so when it moved its skin broke and crackled as the crust on the snow crackles beneath a man’s boots, and flakes of rime fell off. Its eyes were clear and deep and icy.”

You look up from your book briefly to see who has now entered the room. Maester Luwin had left around midday after checking Bran’s health. You ordered the few soldiers your father left for you to stay posted outside of the boy’s bedroom after the incident with the cutthroat, but even still, you remained a little paranoid. You’ve also demanded that the direwolf stay with Bran instead of left outside his window. When your soldiers protested, questioning your safety with a beast, you gave them every reason to believe that you felt much safer with Summer than with men who have motives.

Robb closes the door behind him and goes to sit on the opposite side of Bran’s bed from you. You look back down to continue your story, “Its wings were vast and bat-like, colored all a faint translucent blue. Adara could see the clouds through them, and oftentimes the moon and stars, when the beast wheeled in frozen circles through the skies. Its teeth were icicles, a triple row of them, jagged spears of unequal length, white against its deep blue maw.”

“What are you reading to him?” Robb finally decides to interrupt.

“The Ice Dragon.”

His eyebrows twist up in confusion and wonder, ”I would expect Northerners to adore that story, but never a Southerner.”

”Then my Uncle Tyrion must be the strangest southerner ever,” your lips quirk up into a smile, “He gave me this book when I was little. He always loved dragons, especially the Ice Dragon.”

”One uncle gifts you with horses, the other with books.”

”Don’t uncles do that?”

”Only for their rich nieces.”

He startled you out of a laugh, your voice almost teasing, ”Oh, so I’m a rich niece to you now?”

He laughs with you now, and when it slowly dies down, his smile is sincere, “You took care of my mother. Thank you. You’re very dutiful.” 

Your smile was less sincere and almost fading, “All husbands want their wives to be dutiful.”

“Not all of them,” you laugh again, and he grins, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re beginning to like me.”

“It’s a good thing you know better,” you tease.

Robb’s smile continues to appear gentle while humming thoughtfully, “I think I’m beginning to like you,” the scandalous eyebrows you send him causes the lord to laugh, “I know I don’t hate you, at the very least. And I wouldn’t be one of those husbands who expect you to do your duties as my wife. I was forced into this, same as you. Same as my parents. My mother was originally betrothed to my uncle, Brandon. Then, after his death, she was given to my father. I wasn’t born out of love. I was born out of duty. But over time... my parents grew to love one another, and from that love came the rest of my siblings. Do you think that could happen for us?”

Your heart skips a few beats and all the words stuck to the back of your throat. Your mouth felt dry and your neck warm, unsure of how you feel being stared down by those warm eyes and dazzling smile of his. Robb looked hopeful, innocent and some would say pathetic. The words fail you as your mind wanders into the possible scenarios your future husband had played into your head. Your mind wanders, trying to imagine what a marriage like Ned’s and Catelyn’s would be like with Robb...

Until you thought about your parents and your words finally left your lips, “I don’t come from a family like yours. My father has only ever loved one woman in his life. Your aunt, Lyanna Stark. He likes to remind me that my mother was not his true love. He likes to remind my mother a lot, too. She was his duty, and none of their children came from love. And it’s not like your family is entirely perfect either. Despite how much he loved her, didn’t your father shire a son from another woman that wasn’t your mother? Jon Snow?”

Robb looks down at the floor, shamefully, while you continued, “My father always talked about how loyal yours was. I could only imagine how ashamed and filthy your mother felt when your father, the loyal Ned Stark, came home one day with another woman’s son in his arms. And of course, you met my father. He wasn’t afraid to openly whore his way around in front of his wife and children. Because that’s how it is, isn’t it? If a man cheats on his wife, he is respected. If a woman cheats on her husband, she is beheaded. Our fathers have always been friends. It’s our duty to continue their... historical friendship through future generations. But I will refuse to bend and break. I will not be shamed and humiliated by my husband as our mothers have before me.”

~~~

You haven’t spoken to Robb up until Catelyn woke and announced she was leaving Winterfell. Poor Little Rickon cried and clung to Robb’s leg as his mother said her goodbyes. When she reached you, the Lady Stark embraced you, even petting your hair down the way you imagined a mother would.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I am going to the Eyrie to be with my sister and her son. She hasn’t been well since her husband’s death.”

‘She has never been well,’ you wanted to say but decided against it. You had never spent time with the former King’s Hand and his family much before, but when you did, you always felt uncomfortable. 

“I pray you make it time for the wedding, my lady,” you say instead, “It wouldn’t be the same.”

When she had left, you and Robb remained watching the gates while everyone else departed from the courtyard. Once you were alone, your voice was stiff and you didn’t ever look anywhere but directly ahead of you, “She’s not going to the Eyrie, is she.”

When Robb turned to look down at you with a grim expression, he confirms your suspicion without even saying anything. You shrug, “I’m not stupid. I hardly know a woman who would leave directly after a cutthroat tried to murder her son. My guess is she’s going to find the man who hired the dead bastard.”

“Or woman,” he pointed out.

“Poison is a woman’s weapon.”

He covered the shiver running down his back with a slight chuckle, “I best be covering my cup at dinner then.”

Your smirk was playful he realized, “You best.”

The quiet laughter shared between you was comforting as the courtyard busies about all around you. Robb watches your smile begin to fade and quickly he decides that he needs to see it again, “Will you come riding with me?”

You wanted to shrug, but decide against it, “If that’s what you demand, my lord.”

“I’m not demanding. I’m asking.”

The pondering look in your eyes is rewarding to Robb. In his mind, he would rather have you be comfortable around him than to just do your duties as a wife and lady of the house. After a moment of hesitation, you curtly nod and Robb offers his hand, leading you to the stables once your glove settles quiet nicely into his. He considers this a small victory again his own Ice Dragon of a princess. 

~~~

Author’s Note: I should have just named this fic ‘Duty’s Love’ or something like that. I use the word a lot. I’m sorry if there are grammar errors, I didn’t take the time to proof read because I was desperate to get it done.

[shreddedleopard]

Okay some real talk for a moment.

💛

I’ve been putting off making a post like this for a while cause it hurts, but I would rather be honest with you guys instead of leaving you hanging.

I’ve really been struggling creatively recently when it comes to my fics. Since the series ended, everything has gone kind of quiet in the Rivahisu domain. My dash has gone from 90% AOT content to like at best 20%, and a lot of the discourse around the manga in general has been pretty demotivating. On top of this, the passion I once had for this ship, while definitely still there, has been affected by seeing my peers receiving really hurtful messages and hate despite putting their all into producing wonderful content for this very small side of the fandom.

Honestly, I’ve still been writing for other, safer AOT projects, which I won’t mention here but if anyone wants to hear about them certainly pop me a message. But for Rivahisu and my other fics on this account, I’m in desperate need of a foot up the ass and a spark to reignite the passion. I miss chatting with people about the ship dynamic and all the potential and why these two work together so well, and all the possibilities both in and outside of canon. It’s like I’ve forgotten what made me so enthralled in writing for them in the first place, and it makes me sad. I want to get A Queen’s Request done ready for the end of the final season, and I’m still keen to continue The Other Side of History too right now, I just need some sort of buzz to get me drawn back into it.

So I guess this is a little self indulgent request from me. I came across the post below and thought it was genius, and immediately wished I could have an excuse to do something like this:

Here we go, this is me putting myself out there. If any of you guys that follow me are still invested in any of the stuff I’ve yet to finish, please would you do this for me? It would honestly make me so thrilled to be able to look back through my stories and get back into the headspace where I was most inspired to write, and my hope is that by doing this, I’ll get some of my mojo back and get some updates done.

Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around for all the rubbish I’ve written over the last few years - I’m sorry I’ve been so slow recently. I love you all to bits 😘

SR x

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight :)

Angel of Life, Bringer of Death by woofles1990 (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 377 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steve and Dk just wanted to explore a dungeon. That's all they wanted! A certain angel clearly had other plans.

flashover by Anonymous (Apollo & 5up, teen rating, gen | 853 words)

Summary: n. the moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world. OR: it's pretty stupid to sleep on the tiles of a subway station, even though you are well aware you have a home. It's also quite embarrassing to have a friend pick you up from there.

Sparks Fly by Rocketro (5up/Fundy, gen rating, m/m | 863 words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy watch fireworks together.

you're holding back (shut up and dance with me) by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: 5up and steve dance.

what happens in Vegas by aphilologicalbatman (Apollo/Steve, explicit rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: "I'm pretty sure this is a bad idea, Steve." "Nah, this is a great idea, dude." (Or: the one where they hook up in Vegas.)

quiet when i'm coming home by homeward_bound (5up/Hafu/David, teen rating, gen & multi | 1.4k words)

Summary: 5up comes home from LA.

i could peel it for you by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: One appletini at a time, 5up ponders about oranges, buttons and celestial bodies.

from blossoms by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: “O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.” -Li-Young Lee, From Blossoms

you think that i'm foolish now by amsves (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: “Is everything okay?” That’s a stupid question and Steve knows it. If everything was okay, Five wouldn’t be randomly appearing at his hotel room at—Steve checks his phone—2:37 in the morning. Their group had split up for the night a few hours ago, uncharacteristically early for them, but Five had had plans to talk to—

Like you wouldn't notice by Anonymous (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: Apollo is having feelings, so he pushes them down and hopes Steve doesn't notice. Avoiding Steve was never going to end well. "From that moment on, Apollo becomes hyper-aware of all things Steve. The way his long leg touches his, hip-to-knee, in the bar booth when they're drinking overpriced cocktails."

Vegas Lights by amethystvxidwalker (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.3k words)

Summary: “You were planning on actually swimming with me, right?” Steve faced him, brown eyes and dopey grin almost making Five swoon. He forced himself to focus on Steve’s face rather than the black ink above his hip, small, blocky text that read ‘SUGR?’ because of course it did.

ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: Apollo isn’t sure when, exactly, he fell in love with Steve. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, he never really fell. Maybe, he’s been falling. He’s still falling.

u spilled orange on u by SmearedWords (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.1k words)

Summary: Five times Dumbdog thinks Steve is illegally attractive and the one time he tries to admit that to him. Keyword: tries.

My love is the evening breeze touching your skin by tumtummeke (Apollo & Steve, general rating, gen | 5.2k words)

Summary: Steve's love language is physical touch. Dumbdog's is... not that. A day at the beach with Steve and Dumbdog (and background crewfu), told in five touches.

be like the love that discovered sin by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 5.6k words)

Summary: It’s annoying because Apollo even left for work a whole hour early today, which should be enough time to get to his shitty office job like everyone else on the train, but unlike everyone else, Apollo also has a second job. Which leads to the last reason why Apollo is having a bad day: being pinned under an overturned car while a villain monologues at him. Well, that last reason isn’t really part of Apollo’s bad day, but sue him if he wants to include the misfortunes of his hero identity Dumbdog while listing the reasons for his bad mood. “I don’t have time for this, Suptic,” Apollo grits out, interrupting the villain’s monologue.

friends in this town by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 6.1k words)

Summary: Five only realizes he’s bitten his nails down to the quick when the sting of pain catches up to him. He’s probably overthinking. He just needs to talk to Hafu. That’s all. ...He doesn’t want to. He’s worried he will only hear an answer he’ll hate. Out back, putting off talking to his sister really gives Five a sense of deja vu. All he needs to complete the feeling is Steve. “You need to relax, man.” Speak of the devil.

this party's just another haunted house by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.7k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: On December 31st, Apollo wakes up in his hotel in Vegas. The problem is, it's always December 31st.

call me by your name (i don't know that's pretty gay) by Qupid (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 10k words)

Summary: “Oh!” The human suddenly exclaimed, “You probably want my name!” Five had no interest in holding the power of a name over a human, it always seemed more trouble than it was worth, “Not particu-” “I’m Steve! It’s a pleasure to meet someone as cute as you.” The human, Steve, interrupted before 5up could finish. 5up’s eyes widened as he felt the power of gaining a name rush through him.  It was intoxicating and he could see why some fae would frequently come to the human realm just to trick humans into giving up their names. Five hadn’t needed to trick Steve, the man had given up his name freely and Five couldn’t believe how goddamn stupid he was to do it. “Ohhhh my god you’re an idiot.”

you'll hear me howling outside your door by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 22.2k words)

Summary: Something warm blew against Steve’s face and, distantly, he heard a high pitched whine. A nudge, and when Steve ignored it, a more insistent push had him opening his eyes to the face of a wolf mere inches from his own. Steve laughed. How delightful!  He was hallucinating animals now. The wolf’s fur looked bright to him, but even with as dark as it was Steve could tell it wasn’t white. Maybe it was more of a sandy color. Not that it mattered when all Steve could focus on was its piercing gaze and how its eyes seemed to bore into his soul. The wolf whined again and nudged Steve in the shoulder with its nose, making the man rear back when he realized that this might actually be a real wolf and not a hallucination at all.

kinda good for my love by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 44.7k words, chaptered)

Summary: 5up can’t really recall the exact moment when dares became his and Steve’s thing and he is not sure if he even wants to try - after all, why would you mess with something that feels so natural, that feels so right? Why not just let it take its course and see where it might lead them?

Also: mangoedges‘s 5up the human impostor collection!

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[korgbelmont]

Newsletter 22/01/21

In the midst of the difficulties and uncertainties happening around the world, we're pressing onward to produce books we hope you'll fall in love with. As we continue to support one another within our studio, we can truly say that your thoughtful feedback has encouraged us during these challenging times. While we can't predict what'll happen next, we hope our 2021 books will provide you an outlet to smile, laugh, and relax during these times...

Book Updates

Without further ado, we wanted to take the time to update you on the various books to expect in the coming year. Hopefully, these will answer your most pressing questions!

With Every Heartbeat

Aching for another heartfelt Choices story? We're releasing this VIP book to all players at the end of the month. (Eagle-eyed fans might notice we've even updated some of the main character hairstyles!) Be sure to follow our official social accounts for more previews...

So It looks like WEH MC will have some new hairstyles, I know for a fact that this book SOOOO good, can’t wait to see peoples reactions to it.

Open Heart, Book 3

This February, make the most of your third year at Edenbrook and reunite with your favorite medical crew in Open Heart, Book 3! Will the heart of Edenbrook remain the same in Leland Bloom's hands?

So it looks like they are setting up the plot to have Bloom as the villain and the gang finding a way to get rid of him whilst keeping Edenbrook open. I am still wary of this book, but will see it through as I do believe it is the final book of the series.

#ChoicesCookbook

Calling all food lovers! Our team is whipping up a new dish of choices in the kitchen. Get your pots and pans ready for this exclusive Choices VIP book! We'd love to see you all participate with recipes of your own... What delectable dish can you make with these ingredients? Let us know using #playchoices and #ChoicesCookbook.

So this is a part of their branching out into new genres, I have no clue what to expect, I will keep an eye on it. and see what it’s like

Laws of Attraction

Bring your A-game to beat out the competition in this brand new title set in one of New York’s premier law firms. With high-profile cases and a hard-driving, mysterious boss, you’ll be in for dramatic days… and steamy nights!

So it looks like we are getting another book that’s potentially gonna be on the more... mature side. I am curious to see how this will play out and what the premise is going to be.

Crimes of Passion

We’re hyped for this book, and although it won’t be out until later this year, we couldn’t resist sharing a little peek at what you can expect from this thrilling, unpredictable, and jaw dropping mystery book.

So I haven’t exactly been quiet about my excitement for this book, and this image gives off some SERIOUS culty vibes. Crimes of Passion is definitely my top book for this year to keep an eye on.

The Nanny Affair, Book 2

Book 2 of The Nanny Affair is in the works and will be releasing later this year. Can't wait to find out what's going to happen next? Here's the latest hint:

"We have a lot of exciting plans in the works for The Nanny Affair, Book 2 (and trust me, the art team is outdoing themselves). We don't want to give away too much, but let's just say, you may not be the only nanny in town this time around..." - Megan

As I said before, I enjoyed book 1 and am looking forward to book 2. I am curious as to how it will all play out, by the sounds of this, maybe Sam gets another Nanny in whilst they and MC work to sort out the fallout from the wedding??

Zombies

We know plenty of you have been dying for a zombie book. (Yes, we see those tweets and messages!) Until now, we were only able to share a zombie emoji… But we can make this official: zombies will be taking over Choices later this year, so stay tuned!

So I’ve been playing a lot of Resident Evil recently, and the creatures on the right give me serious RE vibes. I am now curious as to what the premise of this book will be and how it will all play out. 

The Royal Finale

As mentioned in our last Choices Insiders email, the final book of The Royal Romance series will air later this year. Here's a quote from the Book Lead to tide you over until then:

"In The Royal Finale, you'll uncover new secrets, unravel old mysteries, and experience new heights of royalty with your family!" - Olivia

I hope the “unravel old mysteries” is in part, reference to what part Jackson played in Liam’s mother’s second child. And with the whole secret society thing, who knows what’s gonna happen. 

Queen B, Book 2

You just can’t get enough of us, can you, newbie? Enjoy that high of being Queen B… Because what goes up, must always come down. - Kisses, the T.

Oooh, we're excited! Writers Chelsa and Maya have sent us this cryptic message:

🤫🙈✉️👑🐝🔥❌🎧🐍💋

What do you think it means?

Emojis and I have a terrible history so I ain’t gonna try and decrypt that (leave a reply if you do). As for the book itself, I am looking forward to it, aside from the forced Kingsley romance, I enjoyed book 1. I looking forward to the mystery element and hopefully seeing Zoey get her proper LI treatment, and hopefully see Veronica & Carter become LIs.

More New Books in the works!

We are continuing to work on more multi-gender books, including Blades of Light & Shadow 2 launching 2022.

More books. Yay (in theory (depends what they are))

News about Other Sequels

Many of you have asked when or if your favorite books would continue. We want to make sure we inform the community with confirmed and finalized details regarding sequels. To explain a little more in depth about how Choices sequels are decided, our Head of Content Max took some time to give us that insight:

After a great deal of consideration and discussion, we have decided that officially these series will not be getting additional books: Most Wanted, Hero, Nightbound, the It Lives series, The Elementalists, Distant Shores, and Ride-or-Die.I know this may be disappointing to hear, and the truth is, we’re always disappointed when we have to make this decision. I’d like to share a little bit of our process to help you understand why this happens.

Whilst it is a shame, it is nice to have clarification, especially with Most Wanted & Hero. I was surprised to see that Ride or Die won’t be getting a sequel, but sometimes these things happen. As for It Lives, Distant Shores, Elementalists, and Nightbound, I knew they wouldn’t get sequels, but it is a bit of a heart punch to see some personal faves get an official status of concluded.

About once a month, I, along with a small group of Pixelberry's senior staff, make the hard decisions about which books will be written next. Deciding whether or not we make a sequel is an evolving process that we've refined over the years. But even today, it remains ever-changing, and it's never simple.

So I don’t really know what to say here, it’s rather self explanatory. So, yeah.

Sometimes, we want to do a sequel but the Lead Writer is no longer available because they’ve moved onto another project or even left the company. We've tried changing Lead Writers in the past, only to watch sequels struggle, losing sight of what made the original great. This is what happened in the case of Ride or Die; we simply don’t have the team now with the passion and vision to give fans the sequel they crave.

I saw a post by @thefirstcourtesan​ that OH and ROD share a book lead and after what happened to OH2, it is understandable what happens, and sometimes these things will happen. As for ROD, it works as a standalone, and I am okay with there not being a sequel.

Sometimes a book is a critical darling, beloved by both fans and Pixelberry staff... yet the player numbers aren't there to justify doing another one. This is what happened, for example, with Nightbound, Most Wanted and Distant Shores; while these books were beloved by their players, simply not enough players were starting them to begin with. And these are the ones that hurt the most. We genuinely love these books, but if they haven’t found enough of an audience with our players, then it’s very hard to argue for making a sequel. Believe me, I can't think of a single writer on my team who isn't passionate about their book, but ultimately we are one company in an extremely competitive space, and we have to do whatever it takes to keep running well. If a Book costs significantly more to make than it brought in, it’s very difficult to justify a sequel.

Again, I don’t really know what to say here, again it’s rather self explanatory. Given how long it’s been since Most Wanted, it was safe to say BK2 weren’t happening. 

Other times, everyone online seems to hate a book, but the numbers disagree. It's hard to believe, but your most loathed book -- the one that you feel no way deserved a sequel -- might actually be the one that's keeping the lights on for us. And without those books (and those players!), half a dozen other beloved titles may never have existed. We're thankful for sequels. They help us fund future books and projects to try new things. If it weren’t for the success of sequels to books like The Royal Romance and America’s Most Eligible, we would never have been able to try a risky experiment like Blades of Light and Shadow.

This comes across a tiny bit boasty, but it is kinda true, their more generally released romance books are why we get the big ones such as Blades, and I know people diamond mine the quicker released books for the big ones. So, yeah, I don’t really know how to say it, sorry.

We love our online fandom, and your passion, creativity, and art. At the same time, the most visible parts of the fandom sometimes represent a smaller percentage of our players, many of whom might have completely different taste. We have a vast varied player base, and our job is to try as hard as we can to create interesting stories for all of them.

Finally, saying no to one book almost always means saying yes to something new. And without new there is no Pixelberry. When we said no to Most Wanted, much of that team went on to write Endless Summer. When we decided to stop making sequels to Rules of Engagement, that team went on to create The Royal Romance.

With every new book we create, I hope against hope that it'll be our next hit, the start of a ten-volume series that fans will love and support! Some of them are. Some of them aren't. Either way, I hope you stick with us. Sequels are great. So are new things, and I hope most of all that your true favorite Choices book is still out there, waiting to be written.

The fandom is going to make up a small section of it and at the end of the day, they are a company, so the numbers are gonna be what counts. And in saying no to a sequel, it means they can go on to experiment with new story ideas. 

Looking Forward

Internally we've been working on the representation promises that we made in June 2020. We've implemented some new Black hairstyles into With Every Heartbeat, and will continue to add more new hairstyles in our upcoming books. We plan on posting a representation blog in the coming months to share a full update of our progress.

So I am curious to see how VIP players would react to updates to With Every Heartbeat, but I am glad to see representation being shown and that they are working on it.

Last but not least... We appreciate you <3

We’ve seen a rise in constructive criticism in our social channels and want to personally thank you for all of your honest feedback. We read all of your concerns and continue to evolve our thinking and processes based on your feedback. At the same time we take our responsibility of crafting stories very seriously. Sometimes we disagree with suggestions or due to constraints can’t enable changes we agree with, but we do try to improve over time and learn from your feedback.

We also continue to ask that you communicate with each other respectfully. And keep in mind that just like with other parts of the internet, just because someone posts something doesn’t mean it’s always true. To everyone who helps keep our community a safe place to freely share your thoughts, opinions and love - thank you. Your respect and kindness goes a long way, and we are looking forward to spending more time with all of you in the coming year.

We’re looking forward to a great 2021 with you!

Finally, I’m glad that they’re reading what people are saying, it is understandable that there will be disagreements with suggestions, that’s just life, it’s human nature. I am curious to see what will be released in the coming year and how they will play out.

In summary

I had a feeling that books they said won’t get sequels weren’t, especially Hero and Most Wanted. It is sad to see that It Lives won’t be concluded, and I knew Nightbound & Distant Shores weren’t going to get sequels (unfortunately).

Glad to see them making more multi gender books, hopefully we will get more like Foreign Affairs with the different pro-noun options.

I am curious about Laws of Attraction and very much looking forward to seeing how Crimes of Passion will play out. I will post my thoughts and theories as we get new information

Stay safe everyone :)

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

17. A Song About Simon

Word Count: 4369. I don’t think that there’s any triggers in here besides the fact that Grace is still in the institution (which will be maybe another chapter or two, depending on how writing goes), and her and Hazel’s issues from previous chapters. I just want to announce here, like I’ve already told fandom familiars... I do not hold any of you to trying to read this story or any story that I may write. I do appreciate if someone reads, but I also understand that everything is not for everybody, I’m not for everybody, and my work isn’t either. At no time do I feel entitled to your reading and nobody should feel pressured to try to read anything that I write. I will love to hear from y’all and know that you enjoy reading, but if you can’t or don’t, that is your right, Folks. This is an ugly story with ugly content and hard topics, but even if it wasn’t, you still wouldn’t have to read, review, or reblog. I just want to make that clear for those of you in my space. Thanks for your time.

Previous

Whenever she first arrived, she was scared to get the help that she knew she needed. She always thought about how her parents had shot down the idea of it whenever her old driver was concerned. How they seemed to feel like it would mean that the work that they put into her as parents would be ruined if she needed mental help. Then, she would think about her 16th birthday, when her mother said that maybe he was right… the way it felt like her mother was saying that at that moment, she knew that Grace was a waste. “You’ll regret it…” her voice echoed in Grace’s mind. “If only someone had warned you…” The last day that she saw her. 

Months had passed. Her parents didn’t even visit. Someone still controlled her social media. Because videos of her singing at the facility and captions insisting that she was getting the help she needed would show up. Grace didn’t know who was responsible for that, at the time, but all of the comments were disabled on all of her accounts. She didn’t want to imagine what people would have to say about her trying to recover.

Eventually, she warmed up to her doctor and the staff. She warmed up to her treatment, to the fact that she had to get better before anybody would let her go anywhere. Her goals became forgiving Simon, accepting responsibility for the things that she did and potentially reaching out to him to suggest that he try to get help as well. She knew that the first and last ones would be the hardest for her, so focusing more on self growth and accountability became her brand of help, at the moment. At least, she went through the motions.

Some days were better than others. Sometimes, she got onto the computer in the library and searched his name. He seemed like he was doing fine, in terminology, but he didn’t look great. That was a lie. He looked great. He was a little more muscular and his hair had grown out. He looked like maybe he had tattoos, though she couldn’t see what. But, he didn’t look happy. Good, she told herself. Even if she wondered in the back of her mind if that was an accurate observation, wishful thinking or unconditional love causing her to worry. Sometimes, she checked his social media pages to see what he was talking about. 

She watched him receive badges, be crowned prom king, be valedictorian, travel to go to MIT… He really seemed like nothing was bothering him. He had thrown her to the wolves and just smoothly carried on… She would always be mad all over again, that he didn’t even care. It wasn’t even everything that he did to her! It was… but more importantly, it was the fact that he was able to do it and live like it was nothing to him. 

But, that usually made for a very progressive therapy day, and a productive music session. She’d asked her caregiver about the posts on her social media. That was who she eventually found out was responsible for curating the content during her stay in here. “What about my rights?” Grace wondered. She had been creating a lot lately and whenever something got posted, she didn’t know the copyright status or anything legal pertaining to her very personal art! 

“Your team takes care of all of the details like that. I basically just post and properly word updates about your healing process and progress. Your team decides which posts to make public or private. (I always post them privately, and sometimes someone comes in later to make things public).”

“It just doesn’t seem fair. I’m being my most authentic self, trying to be my best self and things that I use to get there are now being subjected to my mother and her team of handlers for me.”

“I can’t speak on feelings about it, but as of right now, you are still a minor and still in our care. That means that your welfare and decisions are decided by your parents, who are your legal guardians and us, who you’re a ward of. Whenever you turn 18, if you are mentally capable enough, you will be able to have more control over that type of thing.”

“I’m 18 pretty soon! But… mentally capable… I mean… I feel like I’m mentally capable enough to discuss my legal rights to my art, but I don’t know if I’m capable of like… rejoining society…”

“Well, whenever you do turn 18, we’ll talk about how you’re feeling and assess what you’re capable of. In the meantime, you can always tell me if there’s something that you just want to keep for you, and I promise, I won’t post it. But, your music and the fact that you’re creating in here is inspiring a lot of young people struggling with mental illness and it is warming people up to you since the scandal that led to you being here.”

“I… don’t care about those people right now. I just… want to heal and create.” 

“Fair enough.”

Stingray Lyrics

You were burrowed in the sand.

I didn't know that you were there.

I reached out my hand, 

only to connect with someone…

But you weren't prepared for my touch.

You didn't know that I would never hurt you.

I dug in a little too much,

And in your startled state you made me regret it.

Like a stingray, you were so cute.

Just living life, just doing you.

But I had to reach for something else, I HAD to have you for myself and it stung me.

Getting too close to you really stung me.

She scribbled the words down, humming the melody. She wasn’t sure if Simon was out there somewhere being bothered to even think about her, but if he was, she wanted him to have to see or hear things about himself.

There wasn’t sheet music in here, but she could use her notebook and sort of guess where the lines would be. She had requested sheet music weeks ago! She was trying to teach Hazel how to read music, too. They usually were able to spend time together twice a week. Technically, they weren’t assigned to the same areas, but one of the caretakers would always make an exception and help them to see each other, because they just seemed to be really good for each other. Neither of them had any other friends there. 

They weren’t antisocial, but they just only really clicked with each other, and Hazel had not been thinking she was a turtle nearly as much since she met Grace, and Grace’s almost entire first year there had been monotonous and for the most part stagnant until she met Hazel. Hazel seemed to make her want to be better, want to move forward on something other than the pendulum of attacking herself and defending herself for things she did and didn’t do. Hazel helped her to really seem to grasp empathy. 

.

They were stretching, silently, getting ready for the dance lessons that Grace would give her near the playground, during activity time. Grace was really quiet, with Hazel was singing to herself. Suddenly, she wondered, “Grace, did either of your parents sing to you when you were a child?”

Grace scoffed and shook her head, “No. Neither of my parents did any of the TV parent stuff. My dad was a lawyer, politician, and ambassador. My mom was a high paid performer turned model turned socialite, the daughter of someone just like my father. Most of their parenting was instilling a certain image on me, or having a nanny take me away if I didn’t quite fit the bill in time enough for guests or appearances.”

“What’s ‘appearances?’”

“It’s like when you have to go somewhere just to be seen. For my dad’s job, there were political or business meet and greets, sometimes charity functions, auctions and stuff like that, and at times it was simply an extremely elegant dinner party or some dignitary’s kid’s birthday event. My last birthday party was…” She frowned, thinking about how that night ended. The beginning of the end in her mind. She looked at the charm bracelet that she had managed to still never take off, despite everything. 

“Was what?” Hazel wondered.

“Too much. It was too much. I’ve always lived pretty extravagantly, but I think whenever I leave here, I might like to get an isolated place and sort of just live there with maybe a pet or something. I’m never going to have guests over for dinner parties or house any ambassadors.”

“Can I come over?” Hazel wondered, timidly.

“Yes! Of course, if your parents let you…”

“I’m never gonna have parents.”

“Hazel!” Grace called. The younger girl just shrugged her shoulders. Grace sputtered air out of her lips and shrugged too. “Well, who needs them, anyway?” 

Hazel threw her a look. “I do, Grace. I need them. I’m 6.”

Grace frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. I have a really bad habit of saying whatever I think is gonna make people I care about feel better. It's one of the things that I need to work on. Of course you need parents. Every child needs parents… which is why I’ve gotta believe that you’ll get some! And whenever you do, they’ll hopefully let us be friends. We have a very big age gap, so I don’t know how comfortable they’ll be with you just coming over.” Hazel looked like she was thinking about something as she stared ahead, but she was still standing, so Grace figured she wasn’t a turtle right now. “Ready to learn our new hip hop routine?” Now, she blinked and looked at Grace with enthusiasm, nodding vigorously.

.

Making time to put together figures was hard, but Simon had all of his figures with him whenever he moved from his family house shortly after the clash with the void. The fame that he had risen to over his scandalous book deal and all of the allegations against it had gotten him a very comfortable situation. He was wealthy, in his own right, and schools that he might have needed Mr. Monroe to get into previously were no longer something to be dangled in front of his face. He actually missed the Monroes. Mrs. Monroe less than her husband, but both of them. They really weren’t as bad as she made them out to be. He believed that much. But… they belonged to her. He could have them on his side for a while, but not after all of this. He hated not having Mr. Monroe to bounce things off of. He’d sacrificed a mentor to get rid of the void. 

He had tried not to pull them into it, but eventually, the narrative began that her parents were using him, as well. That he was something to taper their wild-child and as soon as he stood up for himself was financially cut off. Mr. Monroe had been very public about the fact that unfortunately, they knew nothing of their daughter’s extreme condition until she viciously attacked her mother. Simon would have paid money to see that cat-fight. Simon felt bad for them, having lost their daughter to the void, so he withdrew accusations of the crimes, though several of them couldn’t be taken back, as the victims wanted to sue personally. But, the Monroes fared fine, after all of the settlements or wins. Simon wondered whatever happened to the charm bracelet, but he pushed that from his mind. 

He still carried the name The Apex, though many companies used that or had it in their name, so he couldn’t trademark it, but the general of his Apex was that if you were tagging The Apex, Simon Says was also there.

He took his book opportunity as his big chance to move forward with his other works. They didn’t sell as well, but he could say at 17 that he was a bestselling author for Free From Grace, and that by 18, he had published several books from throughout his adolescence and had a huge trilogy deal that he intended to have released by the time he was 20. 

Senior year in high school was a blast. He was worshiped and kids who had only held allegiance to him via the void either came around or were fun to alienate as nulls. Shana rose to popularity and the two of them continued their banter, a little will they won’t they brewing, as far as he was concerned. She got rid of her weave and replaced them with braids for going natural. Apparently, she was going to be going to an HBCU and she wanted to finally wear her hair “the way it was intended,” when she got there. It made her look ever more like Grace to him, despite the fact that Grace had never worn braids, only locs, and the full out afro she had whenever she left. 

Maybe he was just weakening again… missing her… “Hey, Shana - we should attend the prom together,” he said, as they sat across from each other at their desks in the newsroom.

She looked up at him with only her eyes, not lifting her head from her work, but he could still see the disdain in her eyebrows. “For what reason would I ever even consider something like that?” 

He laughed and leaned back in his seat. “We’re the apex of the student body.” She groaned at the word that she was BEYOND sick of hearing. “You’re the most popular girl in school now, and while not my equal, the best of what we have. We both know that you and I will be class favorites and prom king and queen. Might as well make an entire thing out of it.”

She raised her head now and he was confused by her expression, because it was still clearly disdainful. “Simon. I don’t care if I was going to win a cash prize of a million dollars. I would never even so much as think about attending anything with you. Thanks for asking.” She shook her head in disbelief and continued working.

“Why not? Did you not hear the reasons this works out perfectly?”

“I heard the reasons that you think I’m a status symbol that for whatever reason would actually want to be seen with you. They weren’t reasons that I would overlook who you are as a person and how I feel about you as such to put on some sort of publicity show for a bunch of kids that I’m never going to see again, because if I ever come to a class reunion, it would be to see if Grace showed up and how she’s doing.”

“Nothing that you said makes any sense. Me as a person? I…”

“You’re a bad person,” she said. He laughed, then stopped. Oh, she’s serious? “Simon… I, along with the entire student body watched you destroy a girl that we knew you were once like this with.” She crossed her fingers. “We watched you lie on her, make her out to be worse than she was, and bring her so low that she’s in an institution!”

“You hated Grace, and now you’ve taken her place as the boss bitch.”

“Grace and I did not get along. We argued. We dissed each other. We competed. We hurt each other. We were mean and nasty to each other, and even I can see that what you did to her was fucked up.”

“You didn’t try to stop me.”

“That’s not my business. But what IS my business is the company I keep. It would never be somebody who would turn on even his day 1. Nobody even would have cared about you if it wasn’t for Grace and I still to this day think that you’re the one who shared that video of you two. Your lost and found again laptop story was always corny to me.”

“You seemed to get a kick out of it at the time.”

“Yeah, of humiliation! She got a kick out of it whenever my father was arrested for white collar crime! Fucking with each other was our dynamic! But you were supposed to be the girl’s friend, and you didn’t just fuck with her, you fucked her up. Everybody thinks it’s so funny? They’re only amused because they’re scared that you might fuck them up too. If you did it to her, there’s no telling what you’d do. You’ve got people thinking that the old rumors are true..” He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. The old rumors. That he killed his sister. They were true, but it was an accident. “In short, I don’t care about any of your reasons. You asked me to prom. I decline. End of discussion.”

“So… you don’t like me anymore because I stood up to Grace, something you did all of the time. We’re on the same side now!”

She stared at him and for a moment, he saw fear. That wasn’t something that Shana showed very much. She cleared her throat and wondered, “When… When did it ever cross your mind that I would EVER like you, Simon? You have been a jerk the entire time that I’ve known you. When Grace and I were rivals, you were disgusting to me. You’ve called me out of my name, tried to tear me down about my looks and my family. Where in the world would you ever get an idea that I could possibly like you, even as just a person that I know of?”

“Because of our banter…”

“Arguing.”

“All of the flirting…”

“Clearly happened in your mind, but did not happen in mine.”

“The way that you always blush whenever we talk! I know what it looks like when somebody your skin tone blushes. I knew Grace like the back of my hand.”

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing. I don’t like you. I have never liked you, and I have never BLUSHED when we talk. What you should know, as the young genius that everybody tries to make you out to be, because this is science related, biology, if you will… Is that what you’re describing as blushing, is actually heat rushing to one’s face. My heartbeat accelerates, I may even sweat a little as I get hot and my blood rushes. That’s not because I have a crush on you. It’s because you are one of the most infuriating people to have a conversation with. Because in addition to being a rude jackass, you are a delusional egotist. Every conversation I have with you makes me want to punch you in the face. And I know that if I do, they’ll toss my ass out of here and that will mess up me following my mother’s footsteps as a Spelman College Delta Sigma Theta! You, Simon Laurent have never been worth anything to me, certainly not my future. I’m sorry for Grace that she didn’t know that, but my parents raised me with the utmost love and confidence. I don’t need anybody like you to upgrade me, and I love myself too much to even entertain you as a friend. And my father, who you love to try to weaponize against me, after serving his time is still worth at least five times as much as yours…”

Simon threw over things from her desk and she jumped. His eyes went wide. He surprised himself with that outburst. Shana was moved for a moment, when she thought he was about to attack her, but when he didn’t, she got up. “Please pick up this mess, Simon. I will not mind reporting you for it.” She left the newsroom for a breather. Simon rushed to pick everything up before anybody else came in and wondered what happened, but a lot of Shana’s words cut him for a moment. She’s lying. Girls lie, he reminded himself as he picked things up from the floor. But, he wasn’t going to beg her to go out with him. She declined. Okay, whatever. He’d have been doing her a favor.

Sometimes, he thought about her words, though. Blushing because she was infuriated by him… That made sense after a while, especially when he conflated her with the void, who he knew never loved him. He and Shana were prom king and queen, but she declined dancing with him and said on the microphone, “We all know this is Grace Monroe’s sloppy seconds.” There was an uproar of laughter in his mind. 

Actually, only a few people laughed. Some looked shocked and horrified that Shana would make fun of who they believed to be an abuse survivor. Shana shrugged her shoulders like Kanye and doubled down, “You all know good and well that Grace never harmed a split ended hair on this boy’s head! She was as obsessed with him as he was with her. You’re all wild to go along with that narrative. You would never believe all that mess about a white girl..” The dean snatched the microphone from her and gave her some warning that the other students couldn’t hear. Simon was livid. He waited for her outside.

“Shana,” he said. Shana yelped in fear whenever she saw him at her car, then reached into her clutch for a weapon. She didn’t have much, but she did have a nail file. Whenever he came near her, she stuck him in the neck with it and he groaned. She set off her car alarm trying to get inside of the car before deactivating it and Simon just smiled at her as she did. Shana was driving and crying and that was the last time that Simon saw her. 

He was questioned about assaulting her in the parking lot, but informed them that he only wanted to talk to her about what she had said in front of everyone and that she actually assaulted him. Now… once, people might believe, and people might even have believed that Shana was entirely capable of it. But, most of the kids and staff knew that Shana was a mean girl, but never violent. The only physical exchanges she had were the ones with Grace Monroe and now Simon Laurent. She finished out the end of school how Grace had finished her junior year. Simon finished it out with people beginning to doubt some of his stories about Grace. But, that didn’t matter! 

He hated that school, those rich kids, the system that worked for them but made him work for it. He was on his way to becoming better than all of that. He still wanted to make time for his art - writing, photography, creating figures and scenes… but he had gotten really into the robotics program whenever he was in engineering and decided that was what he was going to focus his education on. MIT was his first choice and he had been accepted by the end of junior year. He got his small living space as close as he could, since he prepared on spending the bulk of his time enrolled. He knew that he was destined for greatness. 

But, sometimes, his social media would think he needed to see something, like today, when he opened a video of Grace, playing a piano at wherever the undisclosed facility she had been at was, singing something captioned as “Stingray,” and looking… beautiful. He watched it more times than he would ever admit. 

He opened his own treasure chest and pulled out images of her, them… things that he had made and just didn’t have the strength to destroy when he purged the void. He picked up a photo from the pumpkin patch, when they were 14. She had her tongue stuck out at him and he was blushing. It was one of his favorite photos of them. 

“You should take every photo of me, from now on!” She said, looking at her ones on her page that had gotten her the deal. “You always seem to make me look my absolute best in every photo you take of me. Like, you have a real eye for it.”

“I have an eye for you,” he corrected. “Two…” He blushed a lot. He hadn’t meant to say THAT.

“You’ve got eyes for me, Simon?” she teased, making him blush more and his heart rate speed up. And in the midst of him trying to collect himself, she grabbed on to him, pulled him into a hug and took another of her many selfies. She groaned, “I just can’t make any photos look as good as you can… but you’re adorable in this,” she said and showed it to him. “I’m putting this on my Christmas cards this year.” 

She didn’t lie about that. He tossed it back into the box and picked up the torn out foreword that she had written for his fantasy novel. He went through the entire box before locking it back up and throwing it into the trunk of his car. One day, he was going to find the strength to throw it in a river or burn it, or something. It’s just that… she was his entire world… for half of his life…

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing,” he heard Shana’s voice say… or was it Grace’s voice? He was starting to forget it. Like… of course he knew what it sounded like, but his head couldn’t place it in the chorus of girls’ voices that haunted him: his sister, his mother, the void, Shana… Shana was interchangeable with the void. His brain kept trying to tie them together and perhaps that was why her words affected him. Or maybe it was because they sounded so true, when he knew that they couldn’t be. The Void betrayed him. He counterattacked. “Getting too close to you really stung me.” He heard her singing. Simon bit his lip, picked up his phone and took a deep breath before liking the Stingray post.

Next

[tfw-needs-baby]

sam winchester | internet personas

based on my own experience. 

read on ao3? 

Sam Winchester and his brother stumbled upon fanfiction and the fandom a while ago. He swore to himself that he would never, ever go back and visit the crazy people that existed there. 

Well, sitting in his room in the bunker, he was bored and had nothing much to do because the supernatural had been pretty quiet for the past month or so and he was scrolling aimlessly through new articles and finding nothing. He doesn’t know how or why the idea popped into his head, but it came and he was curious at the time, so why not? 

‘Best places to’ Nope, delete that. 

‘Where to join a fandom’ Delete that too. That just sounded stupid. 

‘Fandom friendly sites.’ Yeah, that sounded about right. He clicked onto the first link, and it immediately brought him to a site called ‘Fandom.’ 

How ironic. Although it didn’t exactly help him much, it was just an explanation guide to their platform and what it had to offer. The rest of the links weren’t much help either, and he sighed. Alright, how to find the fans...wasn’t there something called livejournal? 

According to a couple of articles, old and inactive journals had been purged, but were still doing pretty well. And then, the Winchester searched up ‘best places to read fanfiction.’ 

A couple of suggestions appeared underneath ‘Popular on the web.’ 

‘Wattpad - tumblr - kindle words - deviantart - archive of our own - asianfanfics’ 

Huh. Visiting a couple of sites, Wattpad and Fanfiction.net and Archive Of Our Own popped up frequently, so he decided to visit Wattpad first. He went to browse works and choose fanfiction, and it brought him to a selection of hot and trendy stories with millions of views on them. Woah. It ranged from k-pop to a selection of animes to CBS shows and weird crossovers. The ‘x reader’ tag seemed very popular and he shivered, reminding him of Becky. 

Signing up wasn’t hard either. It had only taken him a couple of minutes. But when he was reading a selected few from the hot section, they didn’t exactly grab his attention. A lot of them seemed to be written by younger ten to fifteen year olds. They did have a large amount of potential and amazing storylines, he’ll give them that. 

Then he wandered over to Fanfiction.net. The sign up process was easy, but the site was a bit more historical and a bit more him. There were multiple forums, and he scrolled down and viewed a couple of them. Oh. They were similar to roleplay, but just - more building along a storyline with it, if that made any sense. The sign up was pretty easy here too, and he smiled as two notifications popped up in his gmail for both sites. 

Backtracking now, he went off to ‘archive of our own,’ nicknamed ‘ao3’ for short and a paragraph popped up and he skimmed through it quickly. It was just a warning that everything could be viewed by whoever and whatnot. The writing here definitely seems way more advanced, way more complex and interesting, with canon divergences going all out and unheard au’s. And the cliche plots we’re simply adorable. 

He went over to sign up, and raised an eyebrow when it stated that you needed to get an invitation, and all you had to do was enter in an email. And wait a day for an invitation. 

Hopping onto tumblr, he made an account quickly and started scrolling through it, and everything seemed different somehow. Like, more modern day than the last time he came to the page. The fandom had definitely become smaller due to a ‘nsfw ban’ and he couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad thing. They had gifsets of memories that had happened about three years ago, with their final stand against Chuck, and he smiled as he went through year’s old blogs that never updated anymore, reblogging everything ‘Supernatural’ underneath the username ‘babytrenchcoatnougat’ and he started to tear up when he stumbled upon a post where they had created a small art of playing the rainbow slinky with Dean based on a gifset of a memory. He still remembers how happy Dean had been when he got it just for him, he played with it for the next week. 

A couple of week’s later, Sam want’s to do more than reblog and comment on content. Sam does have artistic potential, and he could definitely look into that. Although, writing seems easier at the moment, and he scrolls through an endless amount of fanfiction on archive of our own - ranging from major character death to general fanfiction - from his brother and best friend sleeping together to him turning into the boyking to high school universes to Apocalyptic worlds where they have failed.

He wants to write his own world, where they’re all happy and care-free and able to actually live happily, where no one he’s loved has died. Making a post on tumblr he states: By any chance, is there anyone on this platform that can help me with a non-romantic general Supernatural fanfiction?

He places a couple of normal tags that fit into the category, then presses post. About an hour later, he gets a reblog from someone called @ misha-moose-dean-burger-lover [and wow, that sounds like a handful] offering to help. 

I’m available if you need me to, @ babytrenchcoatnougat ; what’s the plot? We can discuss more in DM’s if you’d like! Besides, I’m free for the week, but if you need a beta reader I can offer a couple of people that I know. 

Sam sends her a message. 

babytrenchcoatnougat: can you give me some advice or writing tips if you have any? i'm not looking to make any implied romantic pairings in the fic

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: well, that depends, what’s the fic going to be about? 

babytrenchcoatnougat: i don't know yet, maybe team free will 2.0 just taking a roadtrip to nowhere without a destination in sight after defeating chuck?

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: eeeeee

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: that sounds like a awesome idea misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: you're definitely going to want to have specific destinations in mind, and only a hint of angst, and what they’re going to do at these locations 

misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: use transition words and make sure it doesn’t repeat often, descriptive details but don’t use it in every scene, and make sure there are frequent movements in the characters so they don’t sound so stiff, and make sure to slowly transition into the next scene, as time skipping to every scene will make the story seem boring. misha-moose-dean-burger-lover: make sure the characters aren’t ooc either! 

And so, Sam writes. He writes until his eyes hurt and he definitely needs some sleep, so he sends a quick message to a beta to read it over for him and they do, gushing about how the plot was wonderful and badly needed after all the terrible angst that occurred this season. He smiles, giving his thanks before uploading the first chapter out of 15, 13k words, onto ao3. 

[He checks over the grammar and tags over fifteen times.]

He can hardly contain his excitement, jumping around happily all day, even baking Dean a pie which makes him get sprayed with holy water and go through every test just to make sure he isn’t some supernatural creature. 

Later that afternoon, he checks his ao3 underneath the same username and finds out it’s gotten about 150 hits, and 38 kudos, which makes his heart swell. He’s also gotten a comment, and he presses comments eagerly. 

‘Kill yourself, psycho virgin fag.’ 

He re-reads the comment a couple of times, eyes tearing up and dropping his phone onto the kitchen table recklessly. What the fuck. Was his story really that bad? Did those people who didn’t leave a kudo really hate his story that much? Did the fans think his story was too child-like? Badly written? OOC? Do they really hate him that bad that he actually should commit- 

Sam breaks down right then and there, pushing his computer aside, placing his head down and crying softly. Castiel and Dean don’t find him until an hour later, and he’s still softly crying. They rush over to him, Dean quickly sitting to the right while Castiel sits to the left. “Sammy? What happened?” Dean asks, and the younger Winchester shakes his head. 

“N’thing.” He mumbles, and the older Winchester sighs. He’s just being stubborn, when he doesn’t want other people to worry about him, afraid that he’ll give them his problems. “Sam, please, if you talk to us, then we may fix the problem together. Remember, we made that promise two years ago, to be more open with each other.” The former-angel now archangel says, pushing Sam’s hair out of his face. Sam takes a shaky breath, pushing himself off the desk and grabs the laptop, opening it up to the recent fanfiction he had written, and Castiel and Dean both skim through it before Dean snatches the laptop. “Is this a fanfiction?” He looks at him as if he’s crazy, and Sam slowly shakes his head in agreement. Castiel walks over to Dean, both of them reading the first chapter silently, and everytime he glances over to see their reactions it seems unchanged. His brother probably thinks he’s weird, and Castiel is going to find him crazy-

“Damn, Sammy, you’ve got talent.” Dean says, and he actually sounds impressed. “W- what?” 

“That is incredibly written and a wonderful idea, I think we should go on a roadtrip ourselves,” Dean nodded in agreement. “Is this why you’re crying? I think this is perfect.” 

“Wait - you two do find it weird or anything?” 

Castiel and Dean look confused. “Why would you think that Sammy? I like it.” 

“You should uh - read the comment.” He says, and it takes the angel and older hunter a moment to find the comment section at the bottom, Castiel pointing at the button. Their faces turn into pure fury. 

“I’m going to smite them.” Castiel all but growls out, and Dean shuts the laptop closed. “Don’t listen to ‘em, this is fucking amazing, got it? I want the second chapter. Don’t listen to what anyone else says, they're probably jealous that we’ve got a New York bestseller writer and all they can do is write the abc’s.” Dean hugs his brother, Castiel immediately joining right in and Sam sighs happily. They stay there for a bit, muttering out a ‘thank you’ before jumping up slightly, seeing that he’s gotten two more comments on his fanfiction, and nervously opens up the comment section to see that a user called ‘quicksilvermalec’ writing on how much they enjoyed the fic and can’t wait to read the second chapter while an anonymous user has attacked the one that insulted him, throwing a whole truckload of insults and Castiel smiles. “They got what they deserved.” The archangel says, and Dean shouts ‘damn straight’ joyfully. “Would the two of you want to write fanfiction with me, then?” Sam asks while writing the second chapter about an hour later, and the unison ‘yes’ gives him a warm feeling in his chest. 

[lovemesomesurveys]

1 - Surveys aside, do you use Tumblr for any other reason? Yeah. This is strictly my survey blog, but I have a personal/main blog that I have for my different fandoms, interests, relatable posts, etc. 

2 - Do you have a lot of social media accounts? Do you update them all regularly? I do, but no I don’t update them all regularly. I’m usually just on there checking other people’s posts and whatnot, liking stuff, retweeting stuff, and sharing stuff here and there. I don’t make personal posts very often.

3 - Does it bother you when your socks don’t match? What about your underwear? My socks just always match, so I don’t have that issue. And what do you mean if my underwear matches? Like if it matches my bra or something? Nah, I don’t care. I grab whatever from drawer, I really don’t put any thought into that.

4 - How many times a year do you go on vacation? Do you tend to go to the same places each time? Well, ordinarily we’d go at least once a year, but try to go a few times at least if we can. I’m so glad I was able to have a nice Disneyland vacation back in February before everything happened and changed for the worst. Who knows when I’ll travel again.

5 - How many times did it take you to pass your driving test? I haven’t taken it.

6 - When you’re in trouble, do your parents ever “middle name” you? I’m an adult, but sometimes my mom will say my first and middle name just because.

7 - Which family member do you look like the most? Which one do you resemble the most in terms of personality? My mom.

8 - Have you ever been arrested? No.

9 - Do you prefer Apple or Android? I’m an Apple gal.

10 - Does getting sweaty or dirty bother you at all? If so, has it ever put you off doing exercise? Uh, yes. It’s not a pleasant or enjoyable feeling. It’s gross. But I can’t blame that for why I don’t exercise. That’s due to having no energy or motivation.

11 - Have you ever broken a bone? What were the circumstances that led to this happening? I have. It was an accident as a kid.

12 - If you could change one thing about your appearance, what would it be? Just one thing?

13 - When was the last time your computer crashed or froze? is this something that happens often? I’ve had this computer for 3 years and haven’t had that issue thus far. 

14 - Do you ever have problems with your sleep? Oh do I ever. My sleep schedule and pattern is a complete mess.

15 - What was the last thing you ate for breakfast? Is this a normal breakfast meal for you? A breakfast sandwich. Typically, if I have breakfast at all, it’s just scrambled eggs. However, I’ve been really into these breakfast sandwiches from this local place lately.

16 -  Have you ever thought about how you want to spend your retirement? I don’t even work, so no. It already feels like I’m on retirement. 

17 - When was the last time you got a new tattoo or piercing? Do you have any plans to get either in the future? I don’t have any tattoos and the only piercings I have are my earlobes, which I got done when I was a baby. No, I don’t have any plans to get either one.

18 - How would you describe your personality? Shy, quiet, awkward, introverted, sad, sensitive.... 

19 - Have you ever heard of “hygge”? is this something you enjoy or participate in at all? I don’t know what that is.

20 - What colour was the last vehicle you travelled in? Does this vehicle belong to you or someone else? Blue. It’s my brother’s.

21 - Would you describe yourself as healthy? Why or why not? No. Cause I’m not?

22 - Would you describe yourself as messy or organised? Is this something you would like to change? I used to be really organized, but that’s slipped over the years. I’m not messy, but I’m not as tidy as I used to be. My room has a lot of stuff and nowhere to put it right now and it feels so crowded and disorganized and it drives me nuts, but I haven’t been able to do anything about it. :/

23 - Do you miss anything about being a teenager? If you are a teenager, what’s your favourite thing about it? Yeah, some things.

24 - Are you patriotic at all? Why/why not? I like where I’m from, but I know we have our problems and could improve on things for sure. There’s a lot I like as well.

25 - Have you ever had to wear a white lab coat before? Was this in school or for a job? No.

26 - Would you ever want to do the same career(s) as your parents? I have no idea what I want to do. :/

27 - Do you believe in aliens? Is there a reason why (or why not)? I think there’s some kind of life form, but not alien things like how they’re often portrayed. 

28 - Which animated film would you most like to live in? Hmm. I’m not sure. 

29 - When was the last time you got into an argument? Have you made up with that person yet? It’s been a long time.

30 - What are you going to do now this survey is over? I don’t think I have any others saved at the moment and I should probably just go to bed since it’s almost 6AM.

[calamity-bean]

Aziraphale/Crowley Fic Recs

AKA “There is SO much Good Omens fic nowadays, with more being added at SUCH an incredible rate, that I keep forgetting to bookmark things and thus completely lose track of what I’ve read and what I liked and which ones to watch for updates and which ones I might want to read again and etc etc. So, for the sake of my own sanity, I have made A List.”

And I thought, hey, might as well share.

I’ve divided this list into WIPs and Complete Works, but otherwise, it’s a jumble: canon-verse and AUs, short and long, ranging in rating from G to E and incorporating various tropes and headcanons. I tend to gravitate toward happy endings, so there’s probably nothing too dark or soul-crushing, but as always, buyer beware, pay attention to tags and content warnings and your own personal tastes. Works are listed in chronological order of first publishing, simply as a neutral and objective way to list them, and more will be added intermittently as I read new ones or rediscover ones I forgot.

Hope this helps someone find some good reading and directs more attention to some well-deserving work!

-- WIPs --

On Espionage and Prophecy (or How to Accidentally, but Wholly, Fall in Love With a Soho Bookseller) by RockSaltAndRoll (June 15, 2019)

1941 is the London Blitz and the year that MI5 really comes into its own with the now infamous ‘double cross’ system. The service keep tabs on suspects, root out enemy agents and try to turn them into doubles.

Anthony J Crowley is fucking great at this job. He can be sneaky, underhanded and damn ruthless but also charming and kind. It’s what makes him good at turning.

Aziraphale is just a regular Soho bookseller who loves his shop and books and good food and wine when he’s approached by a woman claiming to be MI5, wanting to recruit him for espionage. The poor man is too trusting and gets the shock of his life when he’s approached by a charming but dangerous-looking man also claiming to be MI5.

Crowley recruits Aziraphale to double cross a double crosser and Aziraphale takes to espionage like a duck to water.

Danger, hijinks, and sex ensue.

Show Me a Great Plan by WriteDreamLie (June 17, 2019)

A.J. Crowley is an eccentric "business man." A.Z. Fell is a bookseller who refuses to sell any books.

After Fell (unwillingly) helps Crowley out of a sticky situation, the two become oddly fixed on each other. And their relationship could just be the thing that saves them both.

icing on the cake by Etheostoma (June 18, 2019)

Between the black attire, swaying hips, slouching pose, and affected “devil-may-care” attitude that actually belied an incredibly sensitive nature, A.J. Crowley was a walking puzzle—and one that Aziraphale, when he allowed his thoughts free rein, wanted desperately to solve.

That being said, at the end of the day Crowley was also technically his employer, and therefore even the thought of anything more was decidedly not a Good Idea.

Vita Nova by AMidnightDreary (June 18, 2019)

“Angel, bloody hell. Hi. You doing okay? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said then, still polite, but a bit perplexed. “Who is this?”

Crowley, upon finding that Aziraphale does not remember him, is very much Not Okay with the changes Adam made after the Apocalypse That Wasn't. He can't do anything but try and make the best out of it, though. (Which is a lot easier than it should be.)

Sparse Clutter by ItsClydeBitches (June 26, 2019)

A fic bingo collection featuring twenty-five, one word prompts. Whole thing is probably best described as "Ineffable husbands stupidity with a hefty dose of gen world building," but I'll chuck brief summaries below as I update!

Strange Pilgrims: Being the Account of a lost Angel, the Journeys of a Demon, the meaning of Free Will, of the Unravelling of a Prophecy, and of Being Unravelled by it in Turn by sousverre (June 26, 2019)

"Aziraphale going missing" would be quite enough drama for Crowley to be getting on with, thanks very much - even without a prophecy that seems to be implying the significance of Feelings, and especially with every gargoyle in London trying to reunite them.

But when he does find the angel, Aziraphale has lost his memory, his wings, and insists that he is happily married to some kind of investment banker.

Right. So the first step is to fix all that, somehow, and then - and then - and then everything can go back to normal, like it was before, which is all Crowley wants.

Right.

How do we fix this?

Put Out The Fire by Aleakim (June 27, 2019)

Aziraphale finds himself in a very awkward position as some sort of spell makes everyone merely glancing in his direction instantly fall deeply and desperately in love with him.

Absolutely everyone.

Well, apart from Crowley, that is.

And while both angel and demon search for a solution to this fairly unique problem, Crowley can’t help wondering whether Aziraphale might finally figure out some things he kept hidden for so very long.

Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots by gutsandglitter (July 3, 2019)

Ninth Circle Ink was hardly more than a stone’s throw from the flower shop; Aziraphale knew from past experience that it took less than thirty seconds to go from door to door (forty-five if you had to wait for a car to pass). It had been a perfect arrangement in the beginning, when they were just starting out.

aka the flower shop/tattoo parlor (human) exes AU that nobody asked for!

You Can Have Your Cake by eragon19 (July 4, 2019)

Aziraphale has been working as Anathema's assistant at her wedding planning service for near on a year now. He thinks he's seen it all, from meddling parents to nervous brides, and in one case an ex with a penchant for arson.

What he isn't prepared for is a reluctant groom with a liking for black leather and a smile that has Aziraphale's mind going to places it most certainly shouldn't. Especially since the man is getting married, no matter how awful his fiance is...

To the Stars by StarRose (July 9, 2019)

The happy ending Titanic!Au no one ever writes but everyone always imagines in every possible fandom. Aziraphale is being forcibly sent to America to be forcibly married to Gabriel. Crowley is going to forcibly screw that up.

A Matter of Convenience by ylc (July 15, 2019)

There comes a time when even the most fervent enemies must call a truce and what better way to cement such truce than a marriage? And if the involved parties happen to be the most troublesome members of the ruling families… well, that’s all for the best, isn’t it?

Barriers, and the Breaking Thereof by Cardinal_Daughter (July 16, 2019)

Ezra Fell has long been comfortable in his loneliness. He’s content to simply run the Soho Public Library and otherwise keep to himself. However, when a handsome stranger bursts in one evening with a baby, frantic and in need of help, Ezra finds those carefully constructed barriers he’s long maintained begin to crack.

Perhaps it’s time to let them fall.

Series of one-shots focusing on the lives and developing relationship between Ezra Fell and Anthony J. & Adam Crowley. Human AU.

Lavender, Chamomile, and a Rather Permanent Arrangement by southdownsraph (July 17, 2019)

Crowley owns the flower shop across the street from A. Z. Fell's tattoo shop, and can't help but be intrigued by the slightly eccentric, yet incredibly friendly tattoo artist. When Crowley does finally pluck up the courage to talk to him beyond the occasional pleasantries, he kicks off the beginning of a friendship that could so easily drift into something else entirely.

Pride and Prejudice and Angels by SanSanFanFan (July 20, 2019)

Hampshire, England, 1809

Miss Crowley's plans for a small temptation near the South Coast go awry as she realises that Aziraphale is not only a guest of a neighbouring landed gentlelady but also suffering under some kind of malady.

Match-making! Balls! Fainting! Happily Ever Afters???

Celestial Bodies by LieutenantLiv (August 3, 2019)

The year is 1923. Aziraphale's friends at the gentlemen's club invite him for a weekend away in Devon. He asks Crowley to join. It gets very silly and very messy very quickly.

That's just how things were in the roaring twenties.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm (August 9, 2019)

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

--His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses.

What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

-- Complete Works --

Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW (July 7, 2014)

Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

The Rose Thief and the Priest by ImprobableDreams900 (January 8, 2018)

When horticulturist A. J. Crowley sees a rare breed of rose in a churchyard, he decides he won't stop until he can get a cutting—even if he has to go through the church's stuffy priest to do so.

Running in the Shadows (Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies) by soft_october (May 10, 2019)

"In plain terms, Mr. A. Fell was a man of impeccable conduct and unusual habits, and in a similar manner to many of whom bore the first two traits, he must also take up the third: dire loneliness. Yet it had not always been thus. Indeed, there once was a time when it seemed as if he should never know solitude or want of suitable company for the rest of his days, but the circumstances by which Aziraphale might have unwound the knot that now bound up his heart had long since dragged themselves, mortally wounded, to die in the shades of regret. Their ghosts hung in his past, growing in consequence with the singular passing of each year until they eclipsed even the death of those who had the foremost hand in their making, and had the effect of separating the sequence of his days of into a gentle, blooming Before, whose painful beauty made the egregious scars of the After that much more appalling."

What Aziraphale does not know is that, from across the ocean, Mr. Anthony J. Crowley is returning to England with his newly aquired wealth, wanting nothing more than to rebuild his life after a terrible shock and, perhaps, discover why he had been abandoned by his fiancé ten long years ago.

You Might Think I’m Crazy (All I Want is You) by soft_october (March 29, 2019)

'“Look I understand, you’ve got to check up on the new occupants, make sure I’m a proper ‘fit’ for the neighborhood or whatever euphemism you’re going to use this time, 'the greater good,' I saw the film, I get it. But I peeked in at the place next door the agent mentioned and if you aren’t bothering him I really don't think you should be-”

“I’m your neighbor,” Aziraphale interrupted. “I own that place next door?”

“Oh.”'

Since the next shop over closed down, Aziraphale's had a peaceful few months, barring those unpleasant interactions with the men in cheap suits who keep trying to persuade him to sell his shop. But now a (handsome) new owner has taken up residence beside him and, horror of horrors, he wants to open up a coffee shop.

A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone (June 6, 2019)

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

creatures of circumstance by attheborder (June 10, 2019)

Anthony J. Crowley, Jr. is the prodigal son of CrowleyCorp, the UK’s most powerful, dangerous, and controversial technology company.  

A one-night stand with a mysterious man who calls himself Aziraphale tips his hopeless life upside-down into a dangerous obsession.

And somewhere else entirely, a girl-shaped creature is presiding over the back room of a bookshop in Soho, where an angel and a demon lay unconscious on the floor…

Bending Space and Time by Draco_sollicitus (June 11, 2019)

Crowley could never have envisioned a miracle quite like making an angel smile.

And when that angel is Aziraphale, well, he'll do whatever he can to experience that miracle again, and again, and again.

(Crowley spends the twentieth century bringing books to Aziraphale in an effort to make his angel smile a little more)

the words of the prophet are written on the subway walls by volantium (June 11, 2019)

Aziraphale and Crowley do the twenty-first century. (Or, Aziraphale and Crowley, dorks in love, post-Apocalypse).

a picnic plan for you and me by theapplepielifestyle (June 12, 2019)

“It’s angel food cake,” he said. He waited. When Aziraphale did nothing but nod politely: “It’s funny, see, ‘cause-”

“No, no, I get it.” Aziraphale nodded again. “Very funny.”

“Oh, shut up, it is-”

“May I ask what brought this on?”

Crowley paused. “Can’t a guy just want to try baking?”

(Or, Crowley makes Aziraphale food after the world doesn't end. It has absolutely nothing to do with how much he wants to make Aziraphale smile.)

with urgency but not with haste by Sanwall (June 13, 2019)

Aziraphale moves to the South Downs and gets bees, and Crowley gets into one of his moods.

The Play’s The Thing by volunteerfd (June 16, 2019)

“Who was at the very first rehearsal, hmm? Who read over Shakespeare’s shoulder as he put ink to parchment? If anything, I know Hamlet just as intimately as I know you.” Aziraphale picked up his teacup again and looked at Crowley over the rim of it. “Maybe even more.”

Crowley was tempted to ask if he’d fucked Hamlet.

****

Aziraphale is cast as the lead in a community theatre production of Hamlet, a lifelong dream of his and a lifelong night terror of Crowley's. But, as the hapless Crowley helps him run lines, it becomes a mystery why anyone would let Aziraphale on stage. Tears are shed, skulls are crushed, monologues are butchered, and through it all, Crowley remains supportive. After all, the show must go on--even if it is the fifty billionth production of stupid, overrated Hamlet.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by 13thDoctor, JHarkness (June 17, 2019)

5 times Aziraphale and Crowley were mistaken for a couple, and the 1 time they weren’t.

A Regular Rip van Winkle by aurilly (June 20, 2019)

After almost an entire century spent asleep, Crowley wakes in 1888 to find the world more changed than he thought possible. His first order of business is to find his angel.

Also concerning the origin of the Baroque gavotte (spoilers: Aziraphale was feeling thirsty).

A bookshop is not a business by anactoriatalksback (June 22, 2019)

In which Aziraphale has no intention of selling books to anyone at all, let alone this infuriatingly persistent customer. No matter how nice his cheekbones are...

like a prayer for which no words exist by lipsstainedbloodred (June 23, 2019)

“What do you want, angel?” Crowley asks before Aziraphale is even properly in the room.

“Hullo my dear,” Aziraphale sounds cheery but also awfully worried, “I hadn’t seen you since - well, since-” Since they’d swapped bodies back; since Crowley had turned tail and ran from St. James’s Park like the Devil himself had been on his heels.

(in which Crowley and Aziraphale do not dine at the Ritz after that nasty business with Heaven and Hell, and Crowley has an existential crisis instead)

far too much in love to see by imperiousheiress (June 25, 2019)

“Hello, can I help you with anything in particular?” Aziraphale asks. And then, he freezes.

Inexplicably, impossibly, it’s the same man who had entered the shop the last time they’d been open. He’s sure of it. The man who he’d felt a rather insistent urge to garrote.

(Or, one of Aziraphale’s regular customers takes a little too much interest in Crowley, and Aziraphale feels somewhat unfamiliarly unpleasant about all of it.)

The Holiest by merle_p (June 26, 2019)

So when Aziraphale hears, through the grapevine, that an exorcism is supposed to happen on New Year’s Eve in Major Gruber’s flat, he knows that despite his general distaste for exorcisms, this is where he is going to be, on the slim chance that the demon Major Gruber and his spiritist friends have found is the same one Aziraphale appears to have lost.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers by Gefionne (June 26, 2019)

Because they can’t see each other more than once every few decades, Aziraphale suggests that he and Crowley write to each other to pass the time apart. As quills for their letters, they exchange wing feathers: a gesture of great intimacy that Crowley is convinced only he perceives the depth of. But time will tell that it’s not just him who sees it that way.

Night and Day by Gigi_Sinclair (June 27, 2019)

Five times Aziraphale and Crowley encountered queer historical figures who know more about them than they do, and one time they actually have a clue.

Needed a break, gone to France x by sleepymccoy (June 28, 2019)

A week or so after the nopocalypse Aziraphale takes a holiday that, unfortunately, sends Crowley into a bit of a tailspin about where they're at

In Holy Matrimony by Myracuulous (June 29, 2019)

From the private journal of Alisha Jones, wedding planner, concerning the nuptials of Anthony J Crowley and Aziraphale and the planning process thereof, containing an account of chosen decor, guest list construction, and the holy war against the Antichrist that nearly ruined six months of professional organization and a very nice dinner.

Acts of Service by seekwill (July 2, 2019)

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

greatest hits by attheborder (July 2, 2019)

“But my dear, I just can’t believe you never told me that you had joined a musical group. I would have come out to support you— at your gigs!”

“First of all, never say ‘gigs’ again. Second of all, not my fault you never noticed when I showed up to dinner with a great big guitar case slung over my shoulder.”

(Aziraphale accidentally discovers Crowley’s secret: he was in a band in the 90s. And he wrote a whole album of love songs…)

Nanny Knows Best by DictionaryWrites (July 5, 2019)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie.

Crowley wished that were true.

human childcare for the occult (and ethereal) by suzukiblu (July 10, 2019)

The Dowlings miraculously need a nanny and a gardener at the same time, and Aziraphale suggests they flip for it. Crowley takes one moment to picture Aziraphale nannying anyone and calls dibs. It’s not that Aziraphale’s terrible with humans, he’s just, well. Terrible with humans. Truly, truly terrible.

He doesn’t want to deal with Aziraphale getting metaphorically guillotined or kicking up security’s paranoia, basically. A gardener can be a little odd, and no one will notice or care. Except Warlock, perhaps, as the only other person with any real reason to spend much time out on the lawn, but Warlock’s the one they want noticing so that’ll be fine, Crowley’s sure.

Even if it does make him cringe a little, leaving Aziraphale in charge of the plants.

keep me close by Iselmyr (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale was expecting to see a talented but otherwise ordinary performance of Les Misérables with a genderswapped cast. Aziraphale was not expecting who came onstage.

Crowley was expecting an ordinary second night show, because Aziraphale always goes to opening nights, and Crowley never performs on them.

Except, this once, Aziraphale missed the opening, and came to the second night. Everything else snowballed from there.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (July 17, 2019)

Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

Reflect What You Are by Owenjones (July 17, 2019)

It's a year after the almost-apocalypse. Aziraphale makes Crowley go see a therapist.

“Have you been having any issues in particular?”

“Issues? Such as?”

“You tell me.” She could tell he had something on the tip of his tongue.

Crowley sat for a second, then blurted out, “He thinks I’ve been sleeping too much. He’s worried.”

An Answer to Prayer by Jupiter_Ash (July 20, 2019)

Prayers can be answered in a multitude of different ways. When it came to a certain cottage in the South Downs though, no one had expected it to be answered by the squealing wheels of a classic Bentley and Queen's Princes of the Universe.

All Karen wanted to do was sell a house.

The Ineffable Temptations of Oysters by gimpy_terry (July 20, 2019)

Wherein Aziraphale sometimes invites Crowley to dine on oysters with him and Crowley definitely takes him up on that offer.

did you open up your heart there? by weatheredlaw (July 21, 2019)

or were you quiet and afraid? — Aziraphale and Crowley meet over and over and over again. Aziraphale doesn't know what Crowley is, or why their souls can't seem to be parted, but he is a creature of love, and he's not going to argue with that.

A Machine for Living In by pineapplesquid (August 6, 2019)

All Crowley wants is to see the inside of the bookshop so that he can get this design for the building next door done so the clients will be happy and his bosses will stop yelling. What A.Z. Fell wants, apparently, is for Crowley and the project that’s he’s working on to disappear. Permanently.

One of these might be more attainable than the other.

[satanschild01]

No All Might? That’s Alright Prt3

Izuku Midoriya Fanfiction                                                          

A/N: In all honesty this took me way too long just to finish writing this chapter, but I pushed through so I guess it’s fine. I’ve created a AO3 account recently and I’ve posted all of my previous fanfictions there so if you want to check me out, you can find me as SatansChild

Hope you all stay safe and wear a mask if you can't physically distance.Hope to update soon!

Catch you on the flip side ~ Em

Photo used in this fic was referenced from original picture from anime, I did draw this photo jtlyk

Tags:

@random-fandom-girl-24

Tags for some wonderful feedback😘: @trashys-things @pink-imagines @marvelmymarvel @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @spaced-out-imagines​ @marvelmymarvelmain @writingfreakk

Trigger warning: Talk about death

Word Count: 2633

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3

After making sure all of the blood was no longer on his uniform, Closing his eyes, Izuku steeled himself to walk into the All Might shrine that was his room. Sure, he still wanted to be a hero, and he admired All Might’s strength, but he couldn’t stand to be surrounded by posters and figurines of a man who couldn’t offer any sort of encouragement to a child who clearly needed it. Izuku pulled some cardboard boxes out from his closet and started filling them with everything All Might. Oboro didn’t make a sound during the time he cleaned out his room, which he was grateful for. Even though he could just feel Oboro wanting to ask questions. 

“So what are you going to do about all this stuff?” Oboro asked as Izuku changed his All Might sheets with regular black ones “You seem like such a big fan...it just seems like a waste just to keep it all in boxes.”

Izuku shrugged his shoulders.”I’m not much of a fan anymore.” he lied to mostly himself rather than to Oboro, “I guess I’ll just donate the stuff later.” Once his walls were finally bare, Izuku stuffed the now full boxes to the back of his closet and flopped onto his bed. The room stayed silent for a moment until Izuku broke the ice, “I don’t want to intrude on your personal life…but can you tell me about yourself?” he asked

“Well for the fact that I witnessed and helped you with some pretty deep stuff, it sorta would be rude if I didn’t tell you something about my previous life,” Oboro said cheekily

“H-how long have you been...you know…” Izuku paused not really wanting to complete the question.

“...dead?” Izuku nodded “I was in my second year of high school when I died and I would be 29 by now so...close to 12 years I think?”  Izuku sat there on his bed frozen

‘12 years is a long time to be a ghost or spirit to not have passed on, that is if people actually pass onto another place once they die’ Izuku thought to himself

“I was patrolling around Tasomiya Ward with one of my best friends when there was a villain attack...I was working on saving some kids when debris fell on top of me...when I woke up I was like how I am now, I couldn’t find my body anywhere so I just...travelled around…” Oboro seemed to quiet down at mentioning that he never found his body to move onto another life, so Izuku thought of ways to change the current mood of the room.

“So you were a hero in training or something?” he asked, face full of wonder, Oboro hummed in affirmation “What school did you go to?”

“I went to U.A”

“Wait really?!” Izuku exclaimed excitedly, “that's so cool!”

They continued talking and asking questions back and forth, before falling into a comfortable silence. A few minutes past before Izuku took a deep breath

“I...I’m sorry,” Izuku said quietly, slowly curling into himself

"Why would you be sorry kid?" Oboro’s voice was full of confusion. But Izuku only curled in on himself further.

"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't be stuck here." As if anyone wanted to be bound to some stupid Deku...like him. And here he thought it was a whole coincidence that Oboro was with him. But instead, he just took whatever type of freedom he had to begin with.

"Hey, no! Stop that. Izuku that's not true! I'm here because I want to be!" The warmth spread all over him and he couldn't help but lean into it. “I said I'd make a hero out of you and I still plan on it."

Izuku looked up only to see the ceiling of his room, lifting his arm up to the sky and let it just float there (like what every kid does while laying on there bed contemplating on what to do next). "I wish I could see you again."

Oboro hummed. Seeming to think something through. "I don’t think there’s much out there since I was only a second-year when I died, but there could be some photos of me with friends or an article"

Izuku seemed to take that as a challenge as he went to his computer. "What did you choose to be your hero name?"

"Loud Cloud."

After scouring the web for a couple of minutes nothing showed up except for an old article from the Nikkei Shimbun newspaper, reporting the death of hero-in-training Loud Cloud. Izuku quickly exited that site choosing to search for something different. “What’s your full name Oboro?”

“Oh that’s right I didn’t tell you my full name, it is Oboro Shirakumo” Oboro replied

“Oboroshirikumo...oboroshirikumooo….here!” Izuku exclaimed pointing at the monitor’s screen. “This photo was tagged saying ‘Curry eating competition at U.A’s School Festival. Winner Hizashi Yamada from class 2-A!’ it also says the names of the people in the photo are; Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada, and Oboro Shirakumo.” 

“Oh, I remember that!” Oboro cried out laughing “The curry was soo spicy I was freaking out because I couldn’t find anything to soothe my burning throat!”

“So that’s you in the back then?” Izuku asked pointing towards a teenager who seems to be freaking out.

Oboro chuckles “Yep, the other two were my best friends!”

“Yamada looks sorta familiar what’s his hero name?” Izukku asked, curious on why the 16-year-old looked so familiar to him

“Unless he changed it before becoming a pro, which he probably would not, his hero name is Present Mic.” 

Izuku sputtered “W-wait you were close friends with THE Present Mic?!” Oboro hummed in agreement while Izuku had his miny freak out “

“Oh my god that is socool!Ilistentohisradioshoweveryday,andhe’ssuchanamazinghero,likeevenifheisdeafduetohisquirkhedoesn’tletitbotherhiman-” He stopped hearing the sound of laughter coming around his room and his lamp flickering

"Aw jeez, that’s amazing Hizashi got to get that radio show he wanted." There was a quick blast of warmth flooding around his back and chest resembling a hug. "Well anyway, you should probably head to bed. You have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow and a long way to go before you can have a chance at being accepted into UA!"

"What are you going to do while I sleep?" Izuku asked, eyes slowly drooping.

"I'm going to see how far I can go without being next to you, and have a look around and exploring a bit. No need to worry. I'll make sure to be careful and be here in the morning." He seemed to pick up on his anxieties. Izuku felt warmth as Oboro slowly pet his hair back. "Goodnight, Izuku." 

The next morning Izuku woke up to warmth pulsing on his right cheek. "Hey kid it’s time to get up! You have training to do! Up and at ‘em!" Oboro’s voice was overly joyful and Izuku felt very unwilling to get out of bed.

"Mm...just a bit longeeeer." He groaned turning himself over facing away from where he guesses Oboro is standing (floating?).

"Fair warning Izuku my jokes are terrible, everyone at school would always runaway once I started and I haven’t been able to talk to actual people in so long! If spaghetti were to have it’s own action movie, what would it be called?.... Mission im-pasta-ble. What did the pot eat on it’s birthday?....pancakes. What do you call a camel in a drought?....A dry hu- "

Finally, Izuku jerked up, covering his ears. “Okay. Okay, I’m up! No need to finish that.” His face started to burn a light pink across his face, (knowing what the end of the joke was) as he started to kick the blankets off only to turn towards the window and see barely any light outside. "Wha- Oboro!! The sun isn’t even out yet!"

He turned glaring into thin air hoping to make contact with him.

"Yes, it is, Izu. It's just reeeally early in the morning. There is plenty of time for you to get ready and eat before we go out for a morning run!" He was being weirdly energetic about the whole ordeal, but Izuku knew he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Heading to the bathroom, Izuku ran a brush through his wild curly hair and brushed his teeth. Going back to his room, Obroro pipped up. "It's a bit cool outside so I suggest you wear some long sleeves."

The entire way to his closet Izuku muttered incoherent things. In the end, he opted to wear a plain black shorts and a long-sleeved shirt with written kanji saying 'tank-top' with his old dusty sneakers because his red sneakers were still on top of the roof.

Before heading out Izuku ate some toast and an orange. If he got hungry later on their run he could always eat more when they got back. As Izulu started to leave the apartment Izuku tripped over an unmarked box that was just left in front of the door.

"Ooo I wonder what it is!” Oboro seemed quite enthusiastic as Izuku went to open the box revealing his faded red shoes and yellow backpack.

"Wai-how-who found my stuff?" Izuku asked immediately putting the bag by the door and quickly changing between uncomfortable and comfortable shoes.

"I don’t know, when I got back from wandering around the package was just...there."

"Maybe someone found it and found out where I live from my contact info and address was written inside…?” Izuku wondered out loud.

“I guess so,” Oboro said looking to the bright sight of things.

‘But what if it was...All Might. Yeah, I’m glad that I don’t have to go back up there to collect my things but...I don’t want to have to depend on All Might to help me with my own problems.’

“Hey don’t think like that Izu! I know you’re not a huge fan of the guy, but you don’t have to beat yourself down like that. I know you’re better than that” Oboro spoke sternly trying to make a point, but that soon backfired as warmth spread through his body.

“Hold up- could you always hear my thoughts?” Izuku questioned as he started to jog away from the apartment.

“So far I can heat some things. Like your thoughts that way heavily on you emotionally. But it could possibly work to talk to me through your mind. So you don’t look like a freak talking to themselves.” Oboro quickly informs Izuku as to not worry him.

Sighed Izuku. That was true. Though he kept thinking about it as he jogged. As they passed Dagobah Municipal Beach, the sun had started to rise. Taking in a deep breath was the wrong reason as Izuku cringed from the awful smell of garbage. Despite the smell, Izuku took a break, taking a seat at the entrance.

"Oh gross. What is this place?" Oboro asked with a clear sound of disgust in his voice.

"Well," Izuku started."This is Dagobah Municipal Beach Park. It has accumulated trash coming from the sea for years, turning it from a beautiful beach spot into a trash heap for everyone's unwanted or broken belongings." It was really a shame. As a kid, Izuku recalled going to the beach. Lie under a beach umbrella, making sandcastles. But by the time he was tall enough into the water, it was already flooded with trash by then.

"That's terrible." Oboro seemed deeply upset about this actually. It made Izuku want to do something about it. But before Izuku could voice his thoughts Oboro spoke up.

“Hey Izu, could we make a quick visit to a convenience store?”

“Sure...what exactly do you want me to get?” Izuku asked, despite having an idea what Oboro was thinking.

“Well...you’re going to need to get some garbage bags and some gloves.”

Izuku then dashed towards the nearest convenience store with determination in his eyes. A frail-looking lady turned the key to open the doors as he walked by. Causing her to recoil in slight shock, Izuku realized that with his rapid approach he had frightened her. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'd just come to purchase some garbage bags and some gloves.

The older woman seemed to soften something about his face as she smiled and opened his door. "Sure thing, they’re both in the last aisle on your right."

Before she went inside, Izuku thanked her and smiled back. He quickly found what he was looking for and brought a box of trash bags and a pair of workers gloves onto the counter.

"What's the hurry, son? Why do you need trash bags this early in the morning? You aren't trying to cause trouble are you?" the old woman pointed to Izuku with an accusing finger, and he shook his head quickly.

"Oh no, ma'am! I thought that I could just try and clean the beach up! I passed it while I was on my morning run!" Izuku assured, voicing Oboro’s plan

At this, the elder woman gently smiles while scanning the items. “Wow, is that right?” she said astonished, “ You know how long that place has been a mess? What makes you believe you can do it all by yourself?"

Her words weren't really painful, she was just being realistic. He knew she was right. He certainly had no obligation to clean up the beach. He could have just ignored it and easily went about his day. But he knew if he wanted to be a hero then he would need to start off the roots of how heroes came to be. How they used to work. Heroes in the beginning didn’t do what they did for fame. No. They didn’t care for the recognition they would get. They did it because they just wanted to help.

“That’s the thing, ma’am. I thought that it wouldn’t hurt to try. It’s also a great way to work out, instead of having to buy workout equipment or get a gym membership!” Izuku brightly smiles towards the lady as he handed her the money to buy his items.

“Well, I wish you luck, kid. I’m guessing that you’ll need a place to put the trash you collect.” She stated, Izuku smiling sheepishly at her rubbing the back of his head she continued, “There are two dumpsters in the alley behind the store, they get taken every Monday.”

"Thank you, ma'am!" Izuku said genuinely as he headed for the door. He didn't think too much about how he would dispose of the garbage, so it was good to have one offered.

Oboro began to laugh as Izuku jogged back towards the beach. "Cheaper than having to buy workout equipment or get a gym membership! Man, how true that is nowadays!”

The first garbage bags were packed very quickly. broken bottles, cans of beer, old and rotting newspaper, all of it was poured into the trash bag. Plastic, paper, glass, etc. Izuku could take them to a recycling center! He was already pumped about this new project when Oboro spoke up.

“Hey, Izu, before you toss that into the bag” placing his hand on Izuku’s making him feel warmth blossom closest to the soda, can packaging he was holding in that hand. “make sure you cut each circle so if they end up in wildlife again then animals won’t get their heads stuck inside.”

Izuku's eyes lit up as he started to tear apart each loop before placing it in one of the bags used for recycling. Soon Izuku had used up a quarter of the box of trash bags gone and only had 6x5 feet rectangle cleared of the beach.

[quietlysatan]

Hale Sandwich ~ DiscontentedWinter, AO3

Link: Here!!

Rating: Explicit for lot’s of lemon, and maybe grapefruit??

Favorite Quote(s): Oh Jesus. He wants to provide for Stiles. He can actually imagine himself beaming proudly as he hands over a brace of dead rabbits and, because this is his fantasy, Stiles doesn’t even look faintly disgusted. Instead, he smiles, delighted, and thanks Derek with the sort of quiet sincerity that, honestly, Derek has never seen Stiles display in all the time he’s known him. Sincere? Sure. Quiet? Fuck no. Derek needs to work on the quality of his fantasies, or at least learn to better suspend his disbelief.

And

Yep. Derek would rip his still-beating heart right out of his own chest. 

And

Of course, he’s always had terrible judgment when it comes to getting laid.

And (I’m posting too much but I can’t help it)

Peter smiles as Derek folds like a cheap suit. And, under the weight of Stiles’s wide-eyed hopefulness, who could blame him? Peter’s certainly not enough of an asshole to refuse the kid, is he? It would be a downright cruelty to deny him. No, Peter’s being the picture of selfless generosity and charity, offering Stiles his dick. He’s Mother Fucking Teresa right now.

And, because we all know Peter Hale is a lying liar who lies, but we love him (In fanon where he’s usually, if not always, better written because honestly it’s hard to fuck up all that potential even worse though to be fair I have seen it, sadly.) anyways

Peter’s smile grows.

Mother Fucking Teresa.

And another one that I can’t put because it’s explicit, but it’s got something to do with Stiles oral fixation and it’s in chapter one, right after the start of everything

And this, both because OUCH MY HEART!! and also because, Awwwe, That’s why he’s so childish with his threats, how adorable!!!

The list of things that make Derek want to punch Peter is the head is ever-expanding, actually. Derek’s been updating it since he was about five. It could fill the Library of Congress by now.

One more!! LAST ONE!! LAST ONE I SWEAR TO MYSELF SINCE, TECHNICALLY I, as Satan, can’t swear to god, so like, I don’t know??? I swear to Satan, but like me as Satan Satan???

Oh, Peter likes Stiles. The boy never backs down from a challenge, even when he should. Humans are so fragile and squishy. Stiles has all the attitude of a much hardier creature. It’s either ambitious or deluded. Whatever it is, Peter approves.

Words & Chapter(s): 10,947 two chapters; though I suppose you could just ignore the second chapter if you don’t want to read the knotting, I will add that it doesn’t last long, and it’s really not that bad all things considered. A very accurate portrayal of a virgin, and someone’s first time having Certain Interactions with a weird Certain Male Body-part.

Summary: It's exactly what it says on the box.

Score: Everything this author writes is ten and up. Even the angst that I’ve gotten around to reading. I can’t decide so I’m ranking it 10.5, which is still really good, and I might read it again someday

Pairing(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale, BUT Peter and Derek aren’t together, Peter is more like an occasional third that’s slightly necessary for Stiles and Derek to move on to the next stage because Stiles is just as bad at emotions as Derek is, for all that he rarely shuts up. Funnily enough, most people like Stiles are like that though.

Warning(s): Hypothermia, but it’s quickly cured, I’m not sure that it’d take this long normally but Stiles might be a little magical or something so let’s roll with it, who knows, maybe werewolves have magically healing dicks I think I read something somewhat similar one time, but that’s literally all I can remember; I can’t even remember the fandom.

Stiles is a few weeks shy of eighteen, months is one thing, I don’t actually care about weeks because very little will change in two or three weeks my guys, BUT if you’re worried about that it’s completely okay, remember, you can always click the back button, there is no shame in self-care.

Knotting. First things first, I think the knotting happens after Stiles is 18, but I’m not sure, regardless 14-21 days from eighteen doesn’t make any difference to me, but still.

Pros: Derek would never admit it, not even to himself, but there’s something strangely empowering about watching another man undress Stiles. Maybe it’s the way that Stiles pinks up with a blush, and keeps glancing over at Derek looking for silent assurance that this is okay. He’s suddenly shy, his scent sharp with anxiety, and it’s Derek his gaze is seeking. Peter might be the one touching him, but Derek knows that Stiles is totally focussed on him.

This fic is really good at drawing lines, but keeping it comfortable, the characters, as per usual to this author, are very in character in the actions and personality, while also having a certain flair that the Teen Wolf show, lacked, for reasons We’ll Never Know. Derek has issues, and even though this is just a lemon fic basically, they’re still present, BUT not in an uncomfortable way ya’know? Stiles is still a little shit, Peter is still manipulative, but they have a reason for why they’re doing what it is that they’re doing. Derek’s not panicking for the sake of panic, Peter’s not Just Like That, Stiles has Something he wants, like, the characters are very, in character; I don’t think I can put it any better, not unless I were just linking the authors profile and telling you that even if it is an AU it’s still honest, and realistic, and true to the characters....

Author’s account, where the characters always act like they probably actually would if Teen Wolf had better writers and direction. Even if it’s an Alternate Universe sometimes.

Also, the porn is readable, understandable, and I am never once left wondering what’s happening to who, by who which is always really fucking great.

Okay, I REALLY don’t like knotting, it’s right up there with Mpreg and ABSOLUTELY ANY FANFICTION AT ALL THAT INCLUDES THE WORD BOYPUSSY WTF PLEASE STOP MAKING THAT A KINK THIS IS EXACTLY WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS. But, and hear me out on this, But, the way it is done here? Is amazing, it’s talked about, it’s explained, there’s a process and there’s consent, and honestly, as much as I’d fucking love to go more into detail, I can’t without spoiling it. I will say, however, that it only lasts for a little bit regardless of the fact that the whole second chapter is technically about that.

Gif Aesthetic: okay this isn’t it but I couldn’t help myself wtf this is hysterical!!!

Stiles

Sorta

And technically yes, but also technically no :/ but it’s as close as I could find to what I meant

[reciprocityfic]

a slight return home, chapter 3

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it.  Canon-compliant, for now.  Spoilers up to 9x06.

Author’s Note: Hi! Long time, no see. Sorry it's taken me weeks and weeks to update. But I hope you enjoy this chapter I finally have for you.

This chapter covers a large span of time, just an FYI.  And while writing, I listened to the song Holding a Heart by Toby Lightman, which is where the title comes from.

I almost just ended the whole story here, to be honest. But I do have more of this to tell, so lucky for you guys (or not lucky, depending how you feel about it, lmao) there are a handful of chapters left. I hope to have the next ones out much sooner than I had this one out!

On a side note, I just made a fandom Twitter account a few days ago. Follow me (@lizjenningss) if you want to!  All I do is cry over Richonne.

Thank you for reading, and hope to see you soon!

xoxo, Rebekah

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on archive of our own or ff.net

i’m holding a heart here in my hand

"Hey."

It's raining today. But the canopy of tree leaves above her reduces the precipitation to a modest, misting drizzle. It doesn't bother her.

"I'm here. I guess you already knew that, though. You're here, too. I...I know you are."

She takes a shaky breath, digs her fingers into the damp earth below her.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here since I showed you the picture. I was trying - I, I thought that I had to...move on, or something. Not forget you. I'll never do that. I never want to do that. But I guess I thought that I needed - that I had to...I…"

She laughs, once, and drops her head to her chest.

"I don't really know what I thought."

A silence captures her tongue. As if she's waiting for him to answer her. For him to make sense of the jumbled mess in her head. To help her, as he always did.

The rain pit-patters on the leaves above, the river flows in front of her, and she waits.

But no help comes.

"I missed you. I miss you, always. Constantly. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up, and it's not going to hurt as much. That it'll alleviate itself, even just the tiniest bit. It doesn't, though. It's just as bad as the first day. It's like I'm watching that damn explosion on loop."

She tilts her head to the side, and lets out a quick breath.

"You know what, though? I don't mind it. And I don't want it to go away. I know it feels like I can't breathe, sometimes, but it's proof. Proof that you were real, and you were here. Proof that I love you. And if pain is what I get to have, in place of you, then so be it. I'd rather have something left of you, than nothing."

A roll of thunder rings out. She looks at her horse over her shoulder, the animal shifting back and forth restlessly. It's going to storm. She needs to head back soon.

She turns back around, and reaches into her pack.

"I brought you something."

She holds the little black-and-white photo in front of her. She can't help the smile that begins to turn up her lips.

"Our little shadow isn't just a shadow anymore."

She traces the shape of the baby over the shiny, smooth paper.

"They don't look quite human yet. More like a little alien. Just as beautiful as ever, of course."

She stares at the photo a moment longer, before getting up and walking to the base of the tree where she left the last ultrasound picture. There, she finds it, dirty and weathered. She knows no one has touched it since she placed it there.

It doesn't matter. She doesn't care. It's his, and this new one is, too. She printed them for him, brought them to him, and they're his.

So she places it down over the old photograph, and anchors it down with a stone.

Another peal of thunder sounds. She hears her horse whinny loudly.

She walks back towards the river, and stops where she'd been crouching a moment ago.

"I have to go now, but I'll be back sooner this time. I promise."

She closes her eyes, and wraps her arms around herself.

"Goodbye, Rick."

She stays in place for another minute, then secures her pack and katana around her, and goes to leave. She pets her horse's nose in slow strokes to soothe her, and then mounts the animal. Before she prompts the horse to move, she turns her head back towards the river, and the clearing.

"I love you. I love you so much."

***

"There's a baby in there."

She feels a tiny finger pressing into her abdomen, and looks away from where she's chopping up apples to find Judith pointing at her belly, her eyes full of a mix that's equal-parts wonder and confusion. The little girl's fascination with her ever-growing stomach has been endlessly amusing, and Michonne smiles gently at her, nodding her head in affirmation.

"Yes, there is a baby in there."

"Will Baby come out soon?"

"Let's hope not."

"Why?" Judith asks, a whining impatience clear in her voice. Ever since the pregnancy, and what it would mean for their tiny family, had been explained to her, Judith had made it very clear that she wanted to meet her new brother or sister now, and being made to wait all those weeks and months was an absolutely preposterous concept.

"Because," Michonne begins, for an innumerable time, "Baby's not done growing yet. They need to stay in there and get big and healthy before they come out to see us."

Judith humphs in disappointment, her little hands curling into fists. She sighs heavily - with a drama that only a four-year-old can properly convey - and climbs up on one of the stools by the kitchen island. For a few minutes, the only sound is Michonne's knife hitting the cutting board over and over as she continues cutting up fruit, Judith watching and stealing a slice of apple every so often.

"Momma?" she asks finally.

"Yes, little bird?"

"Will Baby have a daddy?"

Her hand holding the knife slips as the question hits her. She cuts her finger, but she hardly notices as she falls into some sort of emotionless stupor brought on by the little girl's inquiry, the feelings it stirs inside her mingling together and overloading her heart until it seems to her that she's off alone somewhere, wrapped up in a thick, gray, lonely fog.

"Momma, you're bleedin'."

Judith's next words startle her from her trance, and she jumps infinitesimally before looking down and finding a sizeable spot of blood marring the light-brown wood of the cutting board. She mumbles a quiet shit under her breath before jogging over to the sink and grabbing a towel as she turns on the water and rinses her finger.

An irrational part of her wants to be mad at Judith for asking such a question. For anyone even thinking that, somehow, their new addition would be fatherless, that she would allow her child to grow up without the knowledge and awareness of the incomparable, amazing man who helped make them, who wanted them and dreamed them up in his head and loved the mere possibility of them more than words can say. That she wouldn't tell stories of his valor and his leadership and his sacrifice, and of his heart and his warmth and his soul. Stories of the man that saved them in every possible way, over and over again, before they even existed.

But Judith isn't anyone. Judith is a child - her child - who lost her father. Who lost one of the fundamental pillars of her world.

And it's as she turns the water off, and wraps the towel around her injured finger, that she realizes she's never asked Judith an important question.

She feels a tug at her pantleg. When she looks down, she meets Judith's wide, worried eyes staring up at her.

"You okay, Momma?"

"Yeah, baby," Michonne breathes. "Yeah, I just...cut my finger. But I'm fine."

She takes a breath and closes her eyes to try and clear her head, before crouching down so that she's eye-level with her daughter. Judith still looks concerned, and Michonne takes her little hands in her larger, uninjured one.

"Judy," she starts quietly. "You know that you still have a daddy, right?"

Judith doesn't answer right away. Instead, she cuts her eyes to the floor, and the frown on her face deepens as she thinks.

"My daddy got hurt real bad and couldn't live anymore, so he had to leave Momma and me and go with Carl and my first mommy."

A shaky breath moves through the little girl's lungs after she's done reciting her own version of the words Michonne's had to speak to her over and over again since Rick's death. When she looks up at her mother again, her eyes are full of tears, and Michonne's heart breaks.

She reaches out, and cups Judith's cheek.

"Oh, my little bird."

She stands and throws the towel in the sink, checking to make sure her finger has stopped bleeding, before picking the girl up, carrying her into the living room as Judith burrows her head in the crook of her neck. She sits them down on the couch and cradles Judith to her chest, pressing her cheek to the top of her head and smoothing her hair.

"Baby, you still have a daddy," she whispers.

"But he's not here," Judith counters firmly, and Michonne can feel tears begin to soak into her skin.

"Well. He's not here on the couch. He's not here when we eat dinner, and he's not here at bedtime. But he's still here. With us."

Judith sits up, and roughly wipes at her eyes before looking at her with a helpless expression.

"I can't see him. I can't hear him. Where is he?" she pleads.

"He's still inside us," Michonne tells her, her own tears beginning to cloud her vision. "Just like Carl is, remember? We love Daddy. We still love him so, so much, right?"

Judith nods vigorously.

"Right," Michonne affirms. "So as long as we love him, he's here with us. He's just in our hearts, instead of right next to us. He lives in there."

She covers the little girl's chest with her hand, lets her fingers rest right over her beating heart.

"And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever."

Judith brings her hand up, and rests it over Michonne's.

"So you still have Daddy," Michonne assures her. "And Momma still has Daddy, too. And when Baby comes, they'll have Daddy."

"But Baby's never gonna meet Daddy."

"No. You're right - Baby won't know Daddy. So you and me, we have to tell them about Daddy. Just like me and Daddy tell you about Carl, we have to tell Baby about Daddy. We'll tell him who he was, and what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he liked, and what he didn't like. All his favorite things. All the stuff he used to do, and all the stuff he used to say."

"The stories he used to read me!" Judith chimes in, her frown slowly giving way to a small smile. "And how his hugs were so warm. And how he was so good at hide and seek, and how he always gave you so many kisses. And how he snored when he was sleeping. And, oh, I'll paint Baby a picture of Daddy, too!"

"See? Baby will have lots of ways to know Daddy. And then Daddy will live in Baby's heart, too."

Judith grins, and then lays back down onto Michonne's chest. The two sit there quietly for a few minutes, Michonne still playing with the little girl's long, golden hair.

"I miss Daddy," Judith says eventually. "But I'm happy he's still here. I'm happy he's in our hearts."

One tear manages to escape the corner of Michonne's eye before she closes her lids.

"Yeah," she murmurs, squeezing her daughter closer as a bittersweet smile turns up her lips. "I'm glad he's in our hearts, too."

***

"They started kicking."

She sits on the bank of the river, her legs crossed in front of her. It's sunny this time. An unusually warm autumn afternoon that hearkens back to the days of late summer. The rays shine down between the trees, through the gaps between branches where leaves have already begun to fall, and warm the bare skin of her shoulders.

"It doesn't really feel like kicking. It's more like...fluttering. I remember it being more like kicking with Andre. This one is more like butterflies. Or popping. Like popcorn."

She runs her hand over her rounded stomach. It's becoming harder to hide now, even with all the baggy shirts she's come to wearing. She can feel the people of Alexandria whispering behind her back as she walks down the street.

"Judith loves it. She was finally able to feel it about a week ago, and she freaked, Rick. I can still see her face - her eyes were so wide, and her mouth was in a little 'o'. It was adorable. And now, she's obsessed. In the evenings, we sit on the couch and she lays there with her head in my lap and just waits for them to move."

She smiles fondly.

"She's gonna be such a good big sister. She already kisses my stomach every morning and every night, and tells me that she's saying 'good morning' and 'goodnight'. She tells me how much she loves them all the time. And at night, when we're there on the couch, she's started telling them stories. Some are the ones we've told her before. Some are ones she just makes up. Most of them are about you."

She bites her lip, as tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"I've started telling them about you, too. I mean, I don't even know how well they can hear me yet. I don't remember from Andre, and I've been meaning to ask Siddiq. But I figure it can't be too early for them to start to hear about you. It would never be too early. Because, God, Rick, I just want them to know you. Everything about you. Who you were. And I want them to love you, Rick. As much as Judith does. As much as I do. So even if it's just muffled sounds to them, at least those sounds are about you."

She closes her eyes as she speaks. Pictures his face and tries to imagine he's there in front of her.

"And I know this is stupid, Rick, but when I talk about you, I swear to you that they always seem to move around more. It's like they know who it is I'm talking about, or something. Like I said, I know that's silly. It's impossible. And it's probably just wishful thinking. Me putting unrelated things together and making something out of nothing. But that's what it feels like."

She takes a shaky breath, and opens up her eyes. She goes to speak again, but stops when she feels a popping sensation over and over again in her belly.

Like popcorn.

And she almost laughs.

"See what I mean? They're kicking for you."

And they keep kicking. One corner of her mouth turns up.

"They're kicking just for their Daddy."

She rests her hand on her stomach, over their baby. The movement inside her doesn't stop, and she lets herself smile.

***

She never formally announces her pregnancy to the residents of Alexandria. She just stops trying to hide it; she wears whatever she wants, tells the few who know for sure that they don't have to keep it a secret anymore, and starts answering any questions about it as honestly and openly as she can manage.

She worries at first that the news will only increase and prolong the meandering sympathy so many still harbor for her. That the polite smiles and whispered words of generic comfort that plagued her would never end, as she went from widow to widow with child.

And while her concern is proven to be valid with some, with most she's pleasantly surprised. Interactions seem to change from being about death to being about new life. They go from focusing on the past to focusing on the imminent future.

Most people stop talking to her about Rick, and start talking to her about their baby. And for that, she is glad. For now, at least, she'd rather remember Rick only with the people who knew him best - who understood him and respected him in the way he deserved.

She finds herself sitting next to Aaron one quiet afternoon, at the playground in Alexandria, the two of them looking on as Judith and Gracie play. The lightest dusting of snow had fallen the night before - the first snow of the season - and the girls are attempting to build a snowman. There's not nearly enough accumulation, and their efforts are resulting in a tiny, abstract sculpture mostly made of grass and dirt, but Judith and Gracie are having fun anyways, and that's what matters.

She and Aaron have been mostly quiet, other than exchanging pleasantries upon meeting and an offhand comment here and there about the construction project going on in front of them.

"You've really popped this past week or so," Aaron tells her.

She sighs playfully, and looks down at her stomach, sticking out through the opening in her unzipped coat, covered up with the biggest, warmest sweater she could find in all of the ASZ. It's true; she feels like her stomach has at least doubled in size in the last few days.

"Judith keeps making fun of me for waddling around. She's always saying, 'You walk so funny, Momma! Why are you walkin' so funny?'"

The two adults chuckle together.

"She's excited for the baby, I assume? I mean, whenever her and Gracie play together, afterwards, all Gracie talks about is Judith's baby, Judith's baby."

"Oh, so she's taking all the credit for my hard work now?" Michonne asks skeptically, and Aaron laughs. "That little stinker. But yes. Excited is an understatement. I told her we only had a couple more months to go the other day, and I kid you not, she literally fell out of her chair, she was so thrilled."

"Only a couple more months? Really?"

"I'm thirty-two weeks. Eight weeks left. Siddiq wants to send me to Hilltop for one more ultrasound before the weather gets bad, just to make sure everything's okay one more time."

"Can you even ride a horse right now?"

"Definitely not. I will be riding in a cart. We have one more big trade to make with them before winter, so I'm just tagging along with the group."

Aaron hums, and the two go back to watching Judith and Gracie. They're quiet for a few minutes, and then Aaron speaks.

"And how are you?"

She sighs slowly, and her heartbeat speeds up.

"I don't know," she admits.

She knows he's not just asking the question on a surface level - if she has any heartburn today, or an upset stomach, if she woke up on the right or wrong side of the bed this morning, if her week has been eventful, what she's planning on doing for the rest of the day. He's asking about something deeper.

He's asking about Rick.

Aaron is one of the people she allows herself to reminisce with. She feels a certain kinship with him - with his loss of Eric, and his parenting of Gracie. She thinks it's why she allows herself to be so honest with him. And he takes advantage of that, to her benefit. He checks up on her in a way that, incredibly, doesn't irritate her, or make her feel like a child. And he is always straight with her, in kind.

So she allows herself to continue.

"It's like I'm stuck," she whispers. "Just stuck in this nightmare full of pain and longing, and missing him. And I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up and it's going to feel better. Even the littlest bit. Not because I love him any less, or miss him any less. But just because...time. 'Time heals all wounds,' and all that sort of stuff. Everyday, though, I wake up, and it hurts just as much as it did the day before. More, sometimes. And I find myself sitting there every once in a while, wondering if it's ever going to stop. Or if the rest of my life is just gonna...be like this.

"And then this," she continues, motioning to her stomach. "I don't even...I don't even know what to say. I mean, I love them, and I want them, more than anything. But it was supposed to be ours. This whole experience was supposed to be between him and me. When we decided we wanted to try for a baby, there wasn't a single part of me that ever imagined I'd end up in this position alone. Even in the world we live in, I never even considered it. It just wasn't...fathomable to me, I guess. But here I am. And now, every time I get excited about something, I just end up thinking about how he won't be here to experience it. How he'll never get to hold them. He won't get to see their first steps, or hear their first words. He'll never get to rock them to sleep. He'll never get to hear them call him Daddy."

"It's like you're constantly pulled in two different directions," Aaron interjects.

She nods, wiping at the wetness that's gathered in her eyes.

"Yeah. And sometimes I'm not quite sad, but I'm never fully happy. I never get to experience anything fully, because grief is always clouding it. But at the same time, I feel guilty for wanting to feel better, because then I feel like I'm pushing the memory of him away."

"Rick would want you to be happy," Aaron tells her immediately, urgency clear in his voice. "Even if being happy meant you forgot him altogether - which, I promise you, you never will - he would want that for you."

"The rational part of me knows that," Michonne assures him, "but I can't stop myself from feeling like I'm betraying him."

She stops, and takes a breath. The baby shifts inside her. She laces her fingers together, and then rests them on the roundest part of her belly.

"So I guess, a large part of me doesn't know what I'm doing. Doesn't know what I'm going to do," she confesses quietly. Hesitantly. She doesn't like admitting to being not in control, but if she's being truthful, she hasn't had anything together since that bridge blew up in front of her.

A silence falls over the two of them. Judith drops a handful of snow on top of Gracie's head, and the two girls' giggles fill their ears.

"There are no easy answers," Aaron muses.

Michonne glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He's slouched over, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands.

He says, "I wish there were, and I wish I had them for you. But there aren't. Though, I will tell you that it does get better. Maybe hearing that doesn't really help anything, or maybe it's not what you want to hear right now. But it gets better. It's slow, admittedly. So slow that you might not even realize it's happening. Then, one day you'll be lying in bed, about to fall asleep, and it'll dawn on you that you didn't cry today. Or maybe even all week. Or you'll think of something Judith told you, and you'll remember that it made you laugh. I mean, really laugh. It's things like that. Stuff that you wouldn't have been able to do a month ago. And don't get me wrong, you'll still have bad moments, and awful days. That's just the nature of losing the person you love most in the world. Like with me - there are some mornings when I wake up and I miss Eric so much that it feels like I can't breathe. But that's when you have to hold onto those little things."

"I won't forget him?" she breathes.

"You won't forget him."

"Promise me, Aaron," she says sternly, turning in her seat and reaching out, taking his face between her hands and staring directly into his eyes.

Aaron brings his hands up to rest over hers.

"I promise, Michonne," he vows. "You won't forget him. Your heart won't let you."

She's reminded of what she told Judith, all those weeks ago.

And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever.

"And the baby," Aaron begins, letting her hands go as they begin to fall from his face. "I know it seems overwhelming right now. When I adopted Gracie, right after Eric died, a large part of me thought I was insane. But she's been the best thing that ever could've happened to me. And I know when this little one comes along, it'll be the same way for you. Every time they laugh, or smile, or, hell, look at you, you'll feel a little piece of your soul being stitched back together.

"And just think," he tells her, his lips lifting into a half smile, "they're a piece of Rick. A living, breathing piece of him that you'll get to hold in your arms every day. Tangible, physical proof of your love, and all that you meant to each other."

She stares down at her stomach, running her hand over it, and a tear falls from her eye.

"Momma!" Judith yells then, and Michonne looks up in time to see the four-year-old barreling towards her, an excited smile on her face. She crashes into her legs, hugging them, and then crawls up on the bench, settling herself between Michonne and Aaron. Gracie comes behind her, and crawls into her father's lap.

"Do you like our snowman, Momma?"

She lifts her eyes to look at the girls' creation. As predicted, he's more brown than white, with only one arm and no nose, standing lopsided, with Gracie's purple scarf thrown over his head haphazardly, and one of Judith's pink gloves stuck precariously on the end of his stick-arm.

And through her tears, Michonne laughs.

She really laughs. And then she wraps her arm around her daughter's waist, and pulls her into her side.

"Yeah, Judy," she murmurs. "I love it."

***

"It's snowing today."

The riverbank is covered with a thin blanket of white, the water covered sporadically with chunks of ice. She stands today instead of sits, bundled in her fluffy winter coat. She can't manage to zip it over her belly anymore, even if she wanted to.

She glances quickly over her shoulder. The group she traveled to The Hilltop with is just at the edge of her vision, talking among themselves. Thankfully, none of them are very close to her or her family, and none of them realize the significance of where they are. Or of the alternate route she directed them on to get them here.

"I can't stay long this time. I'm not alone. I can't ride a horse at this point, so I can't come by myself. So I'm with a group, on our way back from Hilltop. I told them I had to pee, so I have to be quick. But I had to see you. I had to."

She reaches into her pack.

"Enid gave me my last ultrasound today."

She pulls out her final photo for him.

"Our they is a he, Rick. We're having a boy."

She can't say it without getting tears in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks, sting her skin as the cold catches them.

She stares at the picture, at their little baby boy. Her third son. His second.

"I'm gonna name him after you."

She smiles as she thinks of it.

"Rick Grimes, Jr.. Rick, Jr.. Is that cheesy? I don't care. We both know that you were always a little cheesy."

She turns slowly, and walks toward their tree. With some effort, she manages to kneel down. She brushes away the snow with her hand, until she finds the other two photos. She places a kiss onto the shiny surface of the new one she holds, and then lays it down on top of the last one. Before she anchors it with the rock, she traces her thumb over his head, and his tiny feet.

"I think we'll call him RJ."

[go-diane-winchester]

A Generational study of Misha's wackydoodle fanbase.

This was the first post I ever did, on my blog.  The post did very well, and that was because the hellers were reblogging and adding their own captions to the post, and other dumber hellers were leaving a like.  So essentially they were creating traffic for my post without realizing it.  Because their nasty fingerprints are all over this post, I want to repost an edited version with updated information and less typos.  I remembered this post because of this interesting comment.

''In Twitter, in their own words, they have from 2 up 10 accounts. A lot of free time, I assume. I barely have time to enter tumblr xD''

Immediately, the Profound Bonds census came to mind.  I remember seeing a prominent amount of children.  And on one page, there was only one 37 year old.  I was surprised.  I wish I could use a screenshot of that page, but the hellers deleted the entire census.  I wonder why.  The above comment and the census, is the reason I am reposting an amended version of this. 

Enjoy!

Impassioned fans can be very annoying.  Like any fanatic, [in the words of Spike Milligan] they don't enjoy their favorite art.  They suffer from it.  However, most of the time, you find a way to chill with them, and you will be able to have a conversation about something or the other.  You might even share their enthusiasm, unless they start behaving creepily and nauseating you.  The hellers are the latter breed of freak.  They are the creepiest, most nauseating but most mobilized and active part of this fandom, because they have a hierarchy that operates their entire system.  There are influencers and drones.  Seeing an influencers will give you the impression that hellers are a group of grown women, however, that is not the case.  Only the influencer are older.  The drones are young.  Sometimes painfully young.

Understanding slash is one of the things that allowed me to understand why these people are so subservient towards Misha, and why they never question him.  There are other factors like his cult leader behavior, however, there is a particular group that he targets and he uses social media to do it.  Slash is almost a century old.  And each generation behaved in a specific way, regarding slash fiction.  The earlier generations were very covert.  It may have had something to do with modesty.  It may also have had something to do with “outsiders ruining our  fun”.  As far as Supernatural is concerned,  three generations of slash fans are represented. 

I am using the word generation here, from a marketing demographic perspectives, because this seems like the most sensible way to categorize slash fans.  Believe me, I am fully aware I am over simplifying this.  I am trying to write a short blog.  In no way, am I throwing shade at your generation.  I just like mine the most. lol!!!

There are three major generations in this fandom, that indulge in slash fiction:

Generation X:  These are slash fans born between 1965 and 1979.

Generation Y aka Millenials:  These are slash fans born between 1980 and 1994. 

Generation Z aka Centennials:  These are slash fans born after 1994. 

Generation X is that last generation of classic slashers.  This is a covert group that doesn’t like to share its artworks and works of fiction with outsiders.  If they remained underground and secret forever, they wouldn’t mind.  And if that mindset remained, nobody would even know that slash fiction exists.  As a member of this generation, I wish that things had stayed this way, but understand that society changes.  Its evitable.  Gen Xers usually don’t ship just one pair because it would seem a little foolhardy to pin all your slashy happiness on one pair that you put together.  There are plenty of pretty fish in the sea and we tend to mix 'n match.  There may be pairings we will like more than others, but generally speaking, we don't have issues with working through a cast like a buffet and enjoying different pairings. 

Younger generations of J2 fans were influenced by this generation's writings and therefore share the same opinions.  If there are any destiel shippers in this group, three suppositions are likely.  First, they are either, hidden away from social media and don't know about this death threat drama, and they don't have any frenzied love for destiel where it blinds them.  Misha is not influencing them via social media either.  They have a life and destiel is just their pass time.  Or, they are influencers who are older and therefore that sway the minds of younger people.  I theorize, however, that most of the destiel shippers in this generation deserted the ship and moved on.

The Y generation or millenial brought two changes to slash fiction.  From a western standpoint, this generation started to become inclusive and politically correct, making their work LGBT oriented rather than hetero/bi female oriented to the detriment of the artform.  The greatest irony is that mpreg [the last remnance of femininity] was born at the tail end of this generation.  My previous theory about this group was wrong.  I thought they were a quiet group.  But no.  All the Lua Jame's, Janelle's and Exorcising Emily's are coming this group.  This means that the influencers, the first users of social media in other words, are from this generation.  Perhaps, the normal non-criminal thinking, nice destiel shippers come from this generation too. 

Generation Z or centennials are the youngest generation, making them the least experienced, with the least filter.  They don’t think before they speak, but boy do they have a lot to say.  They tend to use social justice and politics to push the validity of their ship.  They are like junkies when it comes to their ship and Misha Collins is the only dealer they have.  They look for other dealers which is why they tend to ask all and sundry, what their opinion is with regard to destiel. 

They based their opinion of that person, on how that person responds to destiel.  Its like a pothead who only likes people who say that smoking pot is ok.  And if that person is indifferent to destiel, they will collectively attack that individual.  The only reason is because they are young.  Its only when I looked at their census, that I realized that many of them are as young as 13.  So most of them are children.  In Misha's heller army, these kids are the soldiers, bashing Jensen and Jared online and voting for Misha to win an award.  Lets hope their taste chances as they grow. 

Misha and his influencer, have convinced these people that what they feel is true, and because they are still young, they don't know any better.  Even a non heller might feel insulted by this analysis of an entire generation but believe me.  I am not critiquing you.  I am merely pointing out that your brain doesn't fully develop until you hit 40.  You are not a child, I concur.  But you are not a complete adult.  Get to my age, look back at life, and realize how many times circumstances forced you to change your opinion about various subjects.   I wager that about ten years from now, the hellers will look back at their behavior and cringe.  They don't know any better and the adults around them are not teaching them to do the right thing.

So Misha’s primary fanbase are a bunch of children, who are spread around the globe, and who don't affect of the ratings, have generally no money of their own so they cant buy seats for his panel or photo-ops or raise a decent amount for anything he is auctioning.  They couldn't attend Indycon so it flopped.  Not that he has that many fans to start with.  And they don’t recognize that Misha is trolling them with destiel, because they are too young to understand. 

Misha has the dumbest cult following ever, because he attached him to Jensen and Dean.  And Jensen doesn't even spend anytime with Misha outside of work.  So the shippy calling card Misha waves will catch fire in his hands.  He is also attracting children and they will grow up to eventually change their mind and taste in men.  The influencers are likely to stick with him, unless they get bored with the lack of Jensen and move on.  So consequently, Misha and his hellers wont benefit each other in the long run. 

I have a feeling there may still be typos.  Excuse them, please.

[margridarnauds]

6, 12, 23, and 45 please!

Thank you!

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

So, I have no idea what we’re talking about as far as levels of involvement, but here are the ones I read fanfic RELIGIOUSLY for back in the day. So, behold my shame. 

Cats (oh, my sweet, innocent 12 year old self) - Mistoffelees/Victoria. 

Phantom of the Opera - Raoul/Christine/Erik, tbh. I started off E/C, then shifted to R/C when I realized E was a trashfire, then went to R/C/E when I realized that I loved garbage after all. 

Van Helsing - Anna/Dracula. Which is impressive given I’ve never. Actually. Watched it. Sue me. 

Carmilla - Carmilla/Laura.

The Pirate Queen - Graínne/Donal, one of the first fics I ever wrote. (And then never published.) Yes, he is a garbage fire in the musical, but in my very specific rewrite of it, he wasn’t. Though these days, I kind of lean towards Tiernan/Donal or Tiernan/Gráinne/Donal. Garbage pirate OT3 is garbage. 

Dracula - The Countess (from Makt Myrkanna)/Lucy Westenra. The first explicit femslash I ever wrote, and it might very well never see the light of day because I do not forever want to be known as The One With The Blood And The Lesbians. Though, who knows? It might cleanse me of Printing Press. 

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (Yes. Really.): Twilight/Princess Luna. I keep telling myself that my AO3 profile’s eventually going to be nothing but period dramas, my (1) Terra Nova fic, and…a My Little Pony fic, along with various Barbie Movie fics. For old time’s sake. 

Terra Nova - Wash/Mira, due to @janetcarter‘s influence. 

The Flash - Barrison. Specifically, Eobard/Barry. In many ways, it was my prep for 1789 with the whole “I murdered your parent” thing.  

The Avengers - Loki/Tony Stark.  

Les Miserables - Valjean/Javert 

The Golden Compass - Mrs. Coulter/Lord Asriel 

Arthuriana - Galahad/Mordred

Star Wars - Reylo or Finnlo. I don’t particularly have a preference, just let Kylo screw one of his various archnemeses straight to the side of the Light.

Star Wars: Rebels - Kallus/Zeb. Oh. Another enemies to lovers ship. Who would have guessed? 

1789 - Peyrol/Ronan (Was there any doubt? If there was, I need to write more.) 

Revolutionary Maximilien Robespierre - Madame Roland/Marie-Anne. In progress, but A Ship for me. Mainly because I’m a contrarian little shit who writes things when people tell me I can’t and then gets attached to the result.

Brennus, Enemy of Rome - Ahmet/Nissia. Which…I still need to. Write. My fanfic for that one. So that fanfic for it exists.  

Lord of the Rings - Boromir/Aragorn

Friedrich: Mythos und Tragödie - Countess Orzelska/Wilhelmine and Fritz/Katte. Pretty much equally, though Orzelskine (?) Wilhelska (?) is starting to edge out Fratte. 

La Legende du Roi Arthur - Leia/Guinevere in the French and Morgane/Guin in the Takarazuka. 

Irish Mythology - Bres/Sreng. I will defend this one to the death and I will do it with citations and footnotes. 

Scarecrow of Romney Marsh - General Pugh/Dr Syn. Yet another one I. Need to write the fic for. 

Star Trek: …….. 

………You know, my favorite thing about Star Trek is that, regardless of shipping preferences, we can all find something to enjoy. Kor/Kirk. While I can’t speak for DS9 Quark/Brunt, my current favorite from Discovery has to be Michael/Tilly, which might very well be the single most wholesome thing I’ve shipped in a very long time. 

Ace Attorney: Phoenix/Edgeworth. 

12. Who is your current OT3?

Chauvelin/Percy/Marguerite from The Scarlet Pimpernel. I do not accept constructive criticism on this one. Because Percy/Marguerite are sickeningly sweet on their own, Marguerite/Chauvelin has That Sexual Tension in Where’s the Girl and The Riddle, and Percy/Chauvelin fulfill all my requirements as far as enemies to lovers ships are concerned.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

I’ve talked a lot about Forgiveness being one of the very few things I’ve written that I’ve ever liked and the ONE thing that I feel…gets my idea of how L/R WORK together and probably shows off my style best, along with Fowl Play (WHICH HAS FANART NOW. WHICH I’M STILL NOT OVER BECAUSE MY BABY HAS FANART.) So, instead, I’m going to shift to Pour la Peine, which…is my messy, messy child in many regards, not the least because it’s so much longer + still isn’t finished. 

(Warning for various and assorted personal, squishy feelings, as well as cancer mentions)

When I first got the prompt from @fallenidol-453, it was January of 2018. Two months before, I’d received the news that my uncle had Stage Four Esophageal Cancer and my mother had moved from our house to his house to care for him, leaving me without her help for the first time in my life, which I deliberately kept as low-key about on here as I could be, given that, to be honest, dealing with the endless “I’m so sorry to hear that”s gets very exhausting after awhile and I was a college student with a schedule to keep. And he and I had a very…contentious relationship, despite the two of us being alike in many ways. Possibly because we were alike in many ways. And, by May of that year, he was dead. And I would learn shortly afterwards that my paternal grandfather had died in January, but no one on my father’s side had bothered to tell me. I spent a lot of time trying to deal with the stress of that time, juggling that with my schoolwork and my fanfic, which I tried to work on from the time I received the prompt onwards. (Tbh, I’d had the opening scene in my mind for awhile before, but I hadn’t had a larger plot + ending until the prompt.)

At first, I thought that I would publish it like I’d later publish Forgiveness, in one straight chapter, but as time went on and on and there became less and less of a shot of having it done any time soon, I ended up just publishing the first chapter and deciding to update it from there. And that chapter got a lot of ribbing from friends. “Her brother is dead” really came off as a very melodramatic first line, but I also decided, very early on, that I didn’t care about what the objective quality of it was; all I cared about was creating a snapshot of a time in my life, just like when I go through the stuff that I made when I was twelve and I laugh about the various and assorted OCs and questionable phrases but love them all the same because they’re my twelve year old self’s. And, where I was at that point in my life, writing Solène mourning a family member who she had a difficult relationship with while I mourned a family member who I had a difficult relationship with, it was the only line that felt right to me.  

There’s a lot of things with this one that I’m still not sure about. There’s a plot twist that I’ve tried to be quiet about for all this time (that I’ve probably been really terrible about keeping, tbh) and that is either going to be the Jumping the Shark moment or the defining moment of it, and I’m obviously not sure how that’s going to be received though I want to believe I’ve foreshadowed it enough to not make it too much of a swerve, I’m not sure how I feel about the ending, there’s a lot there that’s murky and probably more reflective of my writing a year ago than not, and I’m not sure about how I’ve handled the character dynamics given what we’ve got in canon or the dynamic I’ve put them into, or whether the choices they’ll make reflect THEM or what I WANTED them to do. Hell, with a few things, I’m not sure how I’m even going to GET to the ending. 

But, I’m really proud of how much I’ve had the chance to work with Solène and Olympe, I’m really happy with a lot of the work I put into sequences like the two chapters long March to Versailles, which involved looking into a LOT of personal accounts as well as secondary sources analyzing it, and I liked trying to flesh out Solène’s world. But, more importantly, of everything I’ve written, it and Le Cri are probably the most directly personal to me, and even though a part of me still says Her brother is dead is a hell of a melodramatic opening line, it fulfilled its purpose. And, tbh, sometimes that’s all a fic needs. 

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic? 

This is so hard for me, because there are so many fics that have left a huge impression on me throughout the various fandoms I’ve been in. In 1789 alone, I was thinking of at least two different fics at a given point, which is both fantastic and minorly stressful given how small this fandom is (one of which, incidentally, was Little Dove Heart, since that really gave me a huge push as far as Laz and his backstory and his characterization and his relationship to Artois, even if I tend to keep the latter more in the background). And there have been so many fics I’ve read that I’ll remember and go back to periodically, and that really helped me as far as looking at how character voices could be developed and how description would work and how to work a time period and a setting into a story. 

Overall though, I think I’m going to have to give it to Vae Victis, which is a work by @sineala‘s. I’ve never been quiet about my undying love for the Gauls and for Brennus in particular. Brennus is one of my historical favs, and I felt like this fic did a really, really fantastic job of bringing that much-neglected period of time to life and developing the characters on their own, without me having any background in the source material. With fanfic, especially with a more active fandom, there’s kind of an expectation that everyone knows the characters involved, so to be able to work in a different time and to get the reader fully invested in the characters and their relationship in their own right is a really fantastic accomplishment, and to be able to show the Gauls and Brennus (in what little time he gets, because my boi’s not the focus and I accept that) as three dimensional figures rather than a rampaging horde is always much appreciated. And it has a WORKS CITED page at the end, AKA the eternal key to my heart.