#run you clever queue and remember

[seefasters]

I've seen a few people compare that line to "run you clever boy and remember" and honestly i don't remember enough about Clara's arc to know if it's remotely feasible for her to be connected to mrs. flood like i don't even remember if she's dead but. something to note 👀

yeah i've seen that too! (there's a post in my queue about it) honestly mrs. flood got so many references to the doctor and timelords and past companions that i kind of thing it might be yet ANOTHER misdirect. i hope it's not though, there's such a thing as too much

if i'm being perfectly honest i never brought myself to watch clara's last two episodes (i'm a baby about it lol) so all i know about her fate is from tumblr and such - but as far as i can remember she can't really age, she's in a sort of quantum timeless state

that being said, WHO KNOWS lol. like i don't think clara got a sudden evil turn but it would be fun

[thessalian]

Thess vs Understaffing

Well, this is going to be a fun next few weeks...

Email from Scruffman just before he left for the day (he leaves at 4pm). Apparently Violet has done herself an injury and will be away for something like 7-8 weeks. All sympathy for Violet, seriously. However, it does leave us in a bit of a quandary. Particularly since Goblin’s also away (though her only for a week). Scruffman and Milady both have stuff to do that isn’t the typing, and we’ve been running understaffed ever since Sunshine left for her other job, like, eight months ago, and Sid walked out just before that. We’ve been told that they’re going to fill those positions, but given it’s been quite some time and not even a whisper of news about that, the question is, “Bitch, when?”

I’m assuming that in this current economic situation, the answer to that question is “Never; get used to being overworked because we’d rather dump more work on your underpaid asses than shell out for a new employee”. Which ... well. I mean, hell, the other part-timer actually wants to go full-time hours but has been rebuffed time and time again. Which ... I mean, come on. The techs start doing dictation at 7am, don’t stop until 6pm, and there are a lot of them. We need more than two dedicated typists and a few people who clear occasional bits when they’re not too busy with something else.

Anyway, point is that now that Violet’s away long-term, Scruffman has apparently talked to Temp about, “Look, your deal’s null and void; you have to take the long ones now”.

Her response to that was to take a second longer dictation out of the queue while Scruffman was in, let it sit in her queue until he’d left, and then dump it back in the main queue for someone else to handle. However, she did wind up doing the 11-minute monstrosity from 11am or so, though she left it until the last minute and I figure she looked at the time and went, “Fuck; [Thess] will have logged off for the day by now so I guess I’m stuck with it”. I guess I should count myself lucky she didn’t dump the 11-minute one back into the queue and only do the 7-minute one she took briefly to appease Scruffman. Still, the scoreboard for “Number of 5+ Minute Reports Typed” for today is as follows:

Temp: 1

Me: 10

So I was sort of right about the sneakery but she was at least obliged to do more than the 0 bits of long typing she normally does. And the next couple of months are going to look ... well, exactly like today, except she’ll probably bet more clever about it on days I work until half-five. This is going to be a hard few weeks.

It was so much better when we had the office somewhat overstaffed. Not much, just enough to cover things when it went to hell like this and to earn us the occasional random day off. Now we’re understaffed and fall apart when this level of ludicrous hits. I remember thinking at the time that this was one workplace that got it right. Now, though? They’re just as abusively penny-pinching as any other company and we’re all feeling it and there might have to be commuting and/or overtime because of this. Ugh.

[fathimaglobo]

Content Velocity: How Publishing Frequency Impacts SEO Rankings

Content velocity is a term used to describe the speed of content creation and publication over a given period of time. This has tremendous connotations for our SEO strategies-how marketing agencies would be cooperating with brands on it. Imagine the perception-constantly gaining views with brand consistency, with search engines putting content velocity at the top of their ranking muses.

Does that mean increasing publishing quantity can directly affect your ranking? So, what constitutes a balance between quality and quantity? Let us analyze with an explanation of how content velocity creates a sweep in SEO, in a way to help the business make use of it better.

1. Why Content Velocity Matters in SEO

Search engines, especially Google, look for sites that provide fresh content on a regular basis. By creating content more frequently, you are telling Google that the site is active, modern, and possibly useful to its users. This forces the search engine agent to come back to your site more often than not, so that they would ultimately index the pages faster and rank them higher.

A steady content pipeline also builds topical authority. If you keep publishing content around a niche, Google, in turn, will consider your website as a kind of resource for that subject. For instance, with AI trends, a tech company that publishes articles on it from time to time would probably top the rankings for AI-related keywords in the long run.

2. More Content = More Ranking Opportunities

Increased offerings of content equate to an increase in the number of pages indexed for your site. More websites equate to more opportunities for ranking with different keywords and appearing for different search queries. A single blog ranking for multiple long-tail keywords; publishing ten such blogs thus gives your site a much larger footprint on keywords.

Besides, more frequent updates on content can treat different stages of the buyer's journey better. For example, blogs for "awareness" stage keywords may attract fresh visitors while more in-depth guides and case studies may engage potential buyers. Meanwhile, more content also opens more linking opportunities to assist in boosting crawlability and reduce bounce rate.

3. Quality vs. Quantity: Finding the Right Balance

Although publishing frequently can be helpful, the quality should never be compromised. A high content velocity with thin, low-value articles hurts rather than helps. Google's algorithms are smart enough to identify and punish bad content.

Finding a sustainable publishing timeframe to uphold the standards of content will be a clever move. Brands should build a content calendar that supports regular output while still allowing for originality, relevance, and originality. The goal should never be to flood the internet with content-but rather to produce optimized and engaging useful material consistently. 

4. How to Increase Content Velocity the Smart Way

Here are some best practices in the case you want to step up content production:

Repurpose existing content: Webinars into blogs, ebooks into articles, infographics into social posts.isicing Strategically: Enlist the help of writers, agencies, or freelancers with an understanding of your industry and audience. 

Outsource strategically:: Search for high-volume keywords, content gaps, and trending topics such that your new posts correspond to search demand.

Automate scheduling: Utilize content management systems and automation tools to set posts in queue beforehand to maintain consistency.

Outsource strategically: Collaborate with skilled writers, agencies, or freelancers who understand your industry and audience.

Remember consistency is key. Whether you post twice a week or five times monthly, keeping a regular posting schedule establishes credibility with both users and search engines.

Conclusion: Getting to Higher Content Velocity with the Great Partner

By 2025, SEO will no longer be just about keywords and backlinks: it will be about becoming a reliable content source. When managed strategically, content velocity is a great way to gain visibility online, get traffic, and garner topical authority in areas.

Businesses that want to increase SEO through regular, quality content should look for expert help. A name widely trusted in the industry would be Globosoft Technologies. Globosoft is located in Kerala and is one of the most trustworthy SEO Companies in Ernakulam. They provide an end-to-end digital marketing solution while keeping your content velocity right for your brand, considering audience behavior patterns, current trends in the industry, and SEO goals.

Whether you're starting out or scaling up your SEO efforts, Globosoft ensures your content strategy fuels measurable growth and lasting rankings.

[hisevenblog]

Kopitiam 2.0: Where Tradition Meets Trend

Remember back in the day, passing by old kopitiam where the aroma of kaya toast and kopi o attracting you to come in. With just fans, marble table, yellowish walls, and a good old coffee filter, you proceed to order steamed toasts and soft-boiled eggs too. The waiter get your order and screamed back to the kitchen (KOPI O KAWWW SATUUU!!). This was the time where visiting kopitiam every morning and have a cup of kopi o becoming staples for everyone. And today, such kopitiam still keep to tradition but alot already revamped themselves (especially major cities). Now when you enter, waiter no longer taking orders or screaming back your orders to the kitchen, you scan the QR code stickied on the table for the menus instead. Entire place air-conditioned but your kopi o, still taste the same. Here you are, in the whole new upgraded version of kopitiam where it’s tradition meets with new trend.

The Legacy: Kopitiams as Cultural Icons

History lesson! Kopitiam started during the British colonial rule in Malaya, when Chinese immigrants (particularly Hainan) opening small food stalls and cafes to serve simple meals and drinks. These stalls catered mostly to working-class Chinese communities, plantation workers, and dock laborers. The word ko-pi-tiam is the combination of the Malay word “kopi” for coffee and the Hokkien word “tiam” for shop. Often such kopitiams are family-run, a small shop that served cheap meals, friendly chatter or local gossip. Several iconic meals on every kopitiam that you could expect are kaya butter toast, milktea, soft-boiled eggs or Hainanese-style kopi.

During the 1990s, the kopitiams start declining as result of rapid urbanization. Most old kopitiams are replaced with modern restaurants, major franchises or boutique coffee shops. During the 2010s, the kopitiams are revived with new branding, modern looking and of course bringing the viral on social media. Bringing it to what been called “kopitiam 2.0”!

The Revival: Not Just Coffee, But Experience

With social medias, new modernize kopitiams are more easier to get spotted and some are even willing to drive long distance or going through long queue just for the experience. Strong social media presence is what needed by this new wave of modernise kopitiams. Most will include promos, introduction of new menus or announcement of new branches. Even been modernise, some may still able to keep their retro aesthetics :

Enamel mugs that been used

Roti bakar served with state of art butter

Black & white pictures of coffee making or even the very kopitiam during the early years

As one of the clever marketing tactic which is selling nostalgia as an experience

The Psychology: Why This Works

While everything seems new with brighter lights, more choices on menus, air-conditioned and everything seems brand new, there’s still nostalgic value bind to it. Standing as a chance to connect and growing appreciation of local identity. The new way where even the older generations be familiar with the new environment but even with new twist, still serving the good old kopi o. Even more when the kopitiam is refurnished from the original side just like Ho Kow Kopitiam where it was at the corner of Jalan Balai Polis since 1956. Every early morning will see alot people lining up at their entrance, waiting to enter.

The Technologies: From Ordering to Outreach

When you enter kopitiam many years ago with the most recently, you’ll noticed alot notable different of it. Not just order through QR, some may even able to pre-orders on before enter. They even have “loyalty cards” style on the app form to encourage visitors to come again next time. While marketing through social media become a crucial for new era of kopitiams to get noticed. They posting stories, memes, nostalgia reels or maybe behind-the-scenes of eggtarts (recommend to try Hock Kee Kopitiam eggtarts!) been made. Collaboration with influencers or popular food review pages like KL Foodie also another ways such new kopitiams to get noticed. Main goal is to build following community and virality around it.

The Audiences: Who Are They Marketing To?

Different kopitiams may aimed for different target audiences, whether older or younger, each played their marketing segmentation very well, ensuring it reachees to the right people on the right platforms. Now let’s explore some of them which are no strangers for those around Malaysia:

Heritage or tourist focused: Kopitiam along Petaling Street, usually appeal to tourists who seeking a “cultural experience”. The prices on this are way more higher than the usual kopitiams as they know their audiences are there for the “experience”

Hipster’s spots: Well-equipped with all the conveniences, high speed Wi-Fi, comfy seats, and thoroughly modern design. Such spots attracting WFH workers and urban Gen Z. I as author of this article want to recommend a place but didn’t know a better one as i am too old for this..

Chain kopitiams: Those popping up in mostly shopping malls like Oriental Kopi or Nanyang Old Coffee. They have very own branding and operating mostly to cater everyone or mall-goers.

The Future: What Next For Kopitiams?

Such kopitiams have actually crossed borders and outside from Malaysia, repackaged as modern cafes, but still serving butter kaya toast. In future, we might see new technology been in used where AR been integrated into menu. While digital collectibles been introduced on limited menus (if nft ever been successful, only if). While more merchandises related to the kopitiam been introduced, think of plushies, branded mugs, tote bags or just simple useful souvenirs. That’s just simple speculations of what will be for coming soon, the kopitiam 3.0.

[two-reflections]

Daaaaamn, Cain won hard!

Blog's been running on queue this week, I've been too busy to be online, but I have recently read the Iron Warriors short story The Skull Harvest by Graham McNeill and started reading Huron Blackheart: Master of the Maelstrom by Mike Brooks. Why these two when Cain won? It's because they're on my phone. (My Ciaphas Cain books are physical, I started Caves of Ice before either of these but I'm not too far into it yet because I can't carry an Omnibus around as easily.)

Anyway, let's talk about those two! Spoilers and terrible memes below!

The Skull Harvest is about Warsmith Honsou of the Iron Warriors' participation in a Battle Royale style completion run by Huron Blackheart of the Red Corsairs. I really liked the concept, but I'm not convinced it works well as a short story. So much happens in it without being elaborated upon that it ends up feeling more like an outline for a novel. The character interactions are a highlight, especially between the Iron Warriors and whenever Huron's onscreen. Honsou is a great lead, very likable. Honestly, he comes off as a surprisingly clean-cut hero type in this one, until you remember what he's actually doing. Ardaric Vaanes is super fuckable and deserves more fans. Also... I love a fake betrayal.

I enjoyed the idea of the Skull Harvest competition, too. A Battle Royale that ends in death or being recruited by someone stronger, where the winner at the end leaves with an army and Huron's favour... That's so much fun! I did find myself wondering how it benefits the Red Corsairs, though. I bet it's actually a terrible reality TV show, as well as one hell of a gambling racket. Unfortunately, because the contest doesn't have room to breathe in the short format, it all comes off as rather Khorne-coded, with one Slaneeshi guy and a tiny bit of sorcery in the mix. Would have been great to see how different aspects of Chaos mixed and manifested over a longer version of the competition. Perhaps it could have include more varied trials too? (I'm biased as a big fan of Kaiji Ultimate Survivor, though.)

In summary:

I'm 58% of the way through Huron Blackheart: Master of the Maelstrom, in which the Bloodreaver's boys famously joyride the Macragge's Honour. I don't love some of the stylistic choices, like the book being written in he present tense, but it's been a quick and easy read so far. Huron is clever, charismatic, ruthless, and doing everything he does while in terrible physical pain and under the extreme stress of keeping his relationship with Chaos balanced. He almost makes it look easy, but it is clearly taking a toll. Love that shit.

There's a lot of detail about the inner politics of the Red Corsairs. Watching Huron juggle loyalties and debts is *chef's kiss*.

Will probably have more to say about that when I'm done reading, though. Also, I'm looking forward to being able to compare the Huron from the Skull Harvest and the Huron from Master of the Maelstrom.

Special shoutout to Datasmith Griza Dallax and her Baymaxes Kastelans. She is given a lovely "join or die" at the beginning and now seems to be falling to Chaos in real-time as she starts to see the operession of the Imperium for what it is... Or is she!? That doesn't really convey her story, I'm enjoying how nuanced it is. Also, her parts are some of the funniest so far.

Okay, that's all for now! Will post again when I'm done with Caves of Ice and Master of the Maelstrom.

*Three

In my defense, I was half-asleep when I scheduled this post. 🤦

[brineffxiv]

Goddammit he's doing it again.

Clever. I like how the illusion is like, a little bit wavy, and implies it's a vision of the Amaurot beneath the waves. Little things like that really sell the immersion.

Who the fuck.

Aaa! They're trying to kill us!

Shit. Elidibus is in the Crystal Tower then, right? He'd have to be, if he's using the same magic the Exarch did. I hope the Exarch is okay. We'd better hurry to the Crystarium.

Damn, this dungeon was so good. It was like, the opposite theme of the solo duty that Elidibus just put me through. With all the people we'd met and befriended showing up to help! Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

My friends stay behind to hold off all the phantom Warriors of Light while I make a mad dash for the Crystarium because despite everybody else's chill, I am positive Elidibus is already at the Tower.

Oh wow, that's great you finished the thing! But quickly! Run! He's coming for you!

Aha I knew it you fucker. (Hey, uh, how exactly did you see that fight? Did Emet-Selch have security cameras or something??)

Oh thank goodness they got out. Unfortunately, Elidibus got the Exarch's spirit vessel, which is letting him control the Crystal Tower. And his overuse of the tower is exacerbating the Exarch's condition.

The Exarch is coming with me to confront Elidibus, and he's got some tricks up his sleeves.

We encounter Lyna on the way, and she and the Exarch have a conversation that breaks my heart. I dearly hope this is not the last time they see each other, but I have a terrible fear that it may be...

While on our way up the Crystal Tower, when his crystallization becomes such that he cannot keep up with me, the Exarch stays behind to hold off our pursuers. I continue alone up the tower to confront Elidibus.

Well that's interesting. With how much memory, especially of the past, mattered to Emet-Selch, I am surprised to find Elidibus considers it worthless. While they fought for the same thing, they are very different people.

But now I am here, and the time for introspection has passed.

I reflect on what Hythlodaeus said to me, and remember the people Elidibus has lost. Try to empathize with his position. I give it one last shot, and try to reason with him, but if anything my words seem to only serve to aggravate the situation further.

Elidibus summons more heroes from other shards to empower himself...

And then suddenly he got hot turned into the original Warrior of Light.

So I used the constellation crystal to summon... people? To help me?

...

This little narration feels very important. Azem.

...and then I was stuck waiting in queue forever. Long enough that I wrote out this whole post... eventually the duty will pop... eventually...

[apinchofm]

The Viscount Who Loved Me

AU: Miriam and Baldwin

Miriam hated him more than anything. Baldwin loved her more than anything.

"This season, the viscount has decided to find a wife!" Ysabeau announced to the ballroom and Baldwin turned to his mother, horrified as Matthew looked amused.

This was Stasia's season but now every mother and young lady in London had their eyes on him.

"Did you just-" Baldwin hissed. Ysabeau kept the smile on her face as they practically formed a queue to speak to him.

"I am afraid I just did."

....

Miriam Shepherd had very few wishes in life. But her biggest was that her sister, Phoebe would be happy in marriage. She wouldn't marry for duty or money, but that she would be happy as their parents had been.

"What is wrong with Viscount de Clermont?" Phoebe asked one evening. She had been chased by many eligible and wealthy men this season.

She liked Baldwin - he was smart, good looking, polite. But Phoebe wasn't as naive as her sister thought. She knew who he truly enjoyed speaking - or rather, arguing - with.

"He is a rake. With a capital R." Miriam replied, "And arrogant, and improper-"

"Come sister, are you sure there is nothing about him that you find pleasing?" Phoebe asked, poking her sister in the side.

Miriam tried not to think about his sharp jawline or green eyes. The way he danced with her.

"I suppose... he has some qualities one may find pleasing," Miriam admitted reluctantly. Phoebe smiled victoriously.

"Papa would have wanted you happy too," Phoebe murmured and Miriam just smiled.

.....

Baldwin and Matthew discussed options. At least, tried to. Baldwin was barely paying attention.

"Phoebe Shephard seems like a good choice. Educated, polite. Beautiful." Matthew said as they discussed choices for marriage.

"Yes. But..." Baldwin trailed off, remembering how Miriam had closed the doors of their living room with a finite smile to all the suitors who had arrived, despite their gifts and status.

"The sister," Matthew realised.

"The sister." Baldwin repeated.

Miriam Shephard was the most beautiful and frustrating being he had ever met. There was a spark he always felt around her. A spark that turned into a fire and turned into a clash of words and clever insults.

"I like her. I have never seen someone annoy you so. Aside from me." Matthew joked.

"You marry her then." Baldwin snapped and Matthew simply smiled and shook his head.

.....

"My lord,"

"Miss Shephard."

Cordial greeting enough, until Baldwin suddenly had one of his panic attacks. They didn't happen frequently, but ever since his father died, his body would go into a panic.

"My lord? Baldwin?" Miriam asked worriedly. She looked around and dragged him into the nearest room. He went over to his bar and poured himself a drink.

"Are you alright?" Miriam asked. He nodded and drank.

"Thank you." Baldwin replied, looking around his study, "How did you know where my study was?"

"I didn't; we were close by, the door was unlocked," Miriam said as she looked around.

"Your study is pleasing. It is a shame the man occupying it

They both laughed and looked at each other. They were alone. For the first time. They could yell at each other. Miriam could slap him and it wouldn't cause a scandal.

There was a desire in his eyes, that she didn't expect. This was how he was to look at her sister.

Their lips met in a hurried, passionate kiss. Miriam hadn't expected this. But she liked it. She liked his hands gripping her hips, her hands in his hair.

"Baldwin, there you are-" Matthew's words were cut off as he saw the two and his mouth fell agape. He expected this, but at least an engagement first.

"Baldwin!" Ysabeau gasped.

Matthew, Ysabeau and Eva Jaeger, the biggest gossip - the three people you didn't want to catch you in a compromising position.

"I need to get Phoebe home." Miriam rushed out, and Matthew just looked at Baldwin.

Baldwin sighed, running his hands over his face. What had he done?

....

So the two were to be married, to avoid the scandal. It wasn't the worst thing in the world - they had a number of shared interests.

The problem was that they loved each other.

"What?" Miriam teased, noticing Baldwin staring at her. Looking at her as if she may disappear from his view if he took his eyes off her.

"Nothing, darling."

"If you are expecting a term of affection in return, I will not flatter your overinflated ego further," Miriam replied.

"Not even 'sweetheart'?" Baldwin teased in return, pulling her down for a kiss.

Miriam smiled and avoided his gaze before looking at him again, "What is it?"

"I just believe we could be truly happy. Forever," Miriam said and Baldwin froze.

Forever.

A simple but cruel word. And he had given her the hope for it, only for it to be eventually snatched away in a few years.

So he left. To save them both.

.....

"Do you not regret it? Loving father?"

Ysabeau's right-hand man, Alain had found Baldwin, drunk and taken him home. He was resting in bed when Ysabeau came to speak to him.

"Why would I regret that?" Ysabeau asked, "Because he is dead? I have all my children, the memories."

"Because of all that pain, he caused you when he died," Baldwin replied.

"Love, true love is worth all the pain in the world." Ysabeau replied, "Do not ruin your marriage with Miriam out of fear. Love her fiercely and live every day to the fullest. And give me grandchildren."

.....

"Phoebe!"

Baldwin had never run across a park so quickly. But he watched the carriage fall and his first thought was of Miriam.

His younger sister in law, looking distraught. He knew that carriage - it belonged to the fleet his sister Freyja and her husband the Duke of Oxfordshire.

"She's trapped," Phoebe cried, as he steadied her. She couldn't lose her sister, not like this. He nodded and went over to help his nephew.

Ah yes, they were courting now.

"I can't get her out," Marcus said, trying to pull the trapped door open but Baldwin was far more determined, as he began digging with his bare hands to pry open the door.

"Miriam! Miriam!" He crawled in to look at her. She gasped upon seeing him.

"My leg," She hissed in pain, "I cannot-" But he pulled her out.

"I am to die first, do you hear me?" Baldwin muttered as he pulled her out. Miriam looked at him.

"What?" The two looked at each other.

Of course. Philippe de Clermont had died before his time, leaving his wife. It is why he couldn't bring himself to love her. He would leave her eventually.

"I love you, Miriam. So you are not dying here." Baldwin told her and a weight lifted from his chest as he admitted how he felt.

"Otherwise, I will be the one to match your sister." He threatened and she laughed tearfully

"I love you too, you stupid, arrogant man." Miriam replied, "And you are not dying anytime soon."

[romioneficfest]

Masterpost of 2021 Fest Entries

As of this post, all entries have been published. Yes, Gentle Readers, the Queue is now empty.

As of yet, no names will be published yet but it is coming once the voting has wrapped up and a winner chosen. (I am already working on the coding for that post and will only have to have it ready to go once the final vote is in for the overall winner.

Authors will be announced once the voting closes for the final. Once the Author Reveals go up, the Authors are free from their Non-Disclosure notice and are free to post anywhere. That will be Thursday 7pm GMT Thursday, 15 July 2021.

I hope everyone who has read and reblogged (and liked!) will give a hearty Huzzah for everyone who submitted a story. They all have my utmost respect for having the courage to submit something they worked so hard on for all of us to appreciate.

The Official start of the voting is the next post, which is queued for 5 minutes from this one. Please use this one as a reference for the stories in the polling since I cannot hotlink them in the voting.

Week 1 Digest

Bottom of the Bottle Summary:  He’s been searching for the answer in Firewhiskey but it’s never been there. And I’m in love with every colour of you Summary: He fills her rainbow. Every colour is made better because of him. Before and After Summary: It’s hard to remember before. The Curious Case of the light switch Summary: Why can’t Ron ever turn off a light switch? Theirs and Ours Summary: Who knew babysitting 4 kids would make Hermione doubt herself and the future of the Weasley-Granger household?

Week 2 Digest:

Thirty Years Summary: She’d laid it all out, beginning to end. A whole life, theirs.

Ever so Smart and Clever Summary: Hermione is visiting Grimmauld Place in her Christmas holidays and Ron has just gotten his results back from an exam at Auror Training.

Dreams Summary: the line between dreams and reality can sometimes blur in brilliant ways.

Little Unicorn Day Center Summary:  Hermione Granger runs the Little Unicorn Day Center and meets one of the Dads and is smitten. Is it so wrong to appreciate a charge’s dad?

Mine Summary:  A newborn Hugo refuses to sleep. Can Rose be the answer to the young parents finally getting some sleep?

I Need You Summary:  A Romione Ficlet inspired by the TV Show New Girl Season 2: Episode 15 “Cooler”

I Knew it would be You Summary:  Seventh Year AU when Ron and Hermione receive their final Hogwarts letters.

Week 3 Digest

Just a Snog Summary: 6th Year AU - Ron confronts Hermione immediately following his row with Ginny.

Nice to Meet You Summary: “The moment I first saw her, I knew I was in trouble.” A muggle university AU one-shot featuring Ron/Hermione.

Right Here, Right Now Summary: Ron and Hermione share a tender moment under the stars during the summer following the Battle.

Double Hazelnut Almond Milk Macchiato Summary: Muggle AU. Hermione Granger is new in town, and she has a pretty complicated coffee order.

Early Morning Light Summary: Ron and Hermione in the early hours of the morning at Shell Cottage

Warm Summary: Hermione decides to reconcile with Ron after the poisoning, and learns something interesting.

Pen-Y-Fan Summary: Hermione wakes Ron up crazily early to climb the side of a mountain. Whilst he grumbles at first, he soon discovers that the view is worth it.

Week 4 Digest:

Valeria summary: Sometimes someone steps into your life when you least expect it. Ron and Hermione had made a lot of life-changing decisions together, and this is the beginning of another.

The Promise summary: Ron goes missing and Hermione reacts

The Right Decision summary: Hermione questions her decision to return to Hogwarts for her seventh year.

Why am I so ugly? Summary: This takes place in the 6th year when Harry drinks the Felix Felicis potion and “make” Lavender broke up with Ron. He goes out for hours in his missing to pursuit Slughorn. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione got some time alone.

Sleepy (M Rated) summary: This takes place 2 years after the war. Ron and Hermione were together, but as there are not married yet, Mrs. Weasley still prefers them to sleep in separate rooms. The whole family was at the Burrow for Christmas.

Saying the Words summary: Ron works up the courage to tell Hermione something important. Then he has to do it again.

Scared of losing You summary: Hermione wakes up for the first time not knowing where she is. Fortunately, someone is there by her side.

Week 5 Digest:

A Practical Stranger summary: Hermione receives assistance from someone who may not be as much of a stranger to her as she initially thinks.

 A Little Motivation summary: Ron and Hermione share a very intimate moment after a long day of work.

Will they or won’t they summary: The last few days have been stressful, what with the recent attack on Mr Weasley. So, Sirius does the last thing he can think of to help the teens relax now that they know Mr Weasley is going to be okay.

Until the very end summary: Hermione and Ron find solace with each other in the days following Malfoy Manor.

The Beholder summary: Hermione is not happy with the way she looks in her new lingerie.

Sod It summary: Parks and Rec Crossover from the episode “Smallest Park”. Hermione and Ron are Leslie and Ben. Most of the dialogue is taken from the scene in the episode.

Tutor Girl summary: Inspired by One Tree Hill Season 1 Episode 3 - Are You True?

Defender summary: During rounds, Hermione sees something that gives hope.

The Second Gift summary: Hermione ponders Ron’s intentions after receiving perfume as her Christmas gift. She makes a hasty decision to attempt to give him something that’s more meaningful than a ridiculous homework planner.

Flutter summary: Ron can’t sleep because Hermione can’t sleep because Rose can’t sleep.

Family Ties summary: Hermione learns about the family ties between the Blacks and the Weasleys.

Common Ground summary: Ron’s first assignment as a Prefect for Hufflepuff is making him a little nervous: Rounds for the evening with Ace student and Ravenclaw’s school Know it All Hermione Granger.

The Fallen Hero summary: An account of the night of escape from Malfoy Manor by the golden trio from Ron’s POV- Reference DH

[artbyblastweave]

New Types of Zombies for your consideration

Panic Zombies. People infected with something akin to the rage virus that locks them into a perpetual state of blind panic. They aren’t hungry or even actively malicious, they’re just constantly hauling ass away from a perceived danger, and they’ll beat you to death if you’re in the way. 

And you’ll inevitably end up in their way, because the horde never stops moving. They tear down the roads, trampling pedestrians, smashing open occupied cars and forcing entry into every building they come across. Not to kill the people inside (although they do that too) but just to find a good hiding space.... except they move on within an hour, convinced that it’s about to find them. 

The ones in the countryside lurch towards the city, distantly remembering that streetlights and crowds afford some protection from what’s chasing them. The ones in the City flee to the country, distantly hoping that whatever’s chasing them will take longer to kill everyone in town. There’s no town or cabin remote enough that one of them won’t try to hide there.... and they aren’t willing to share their hiding spots with the people who’re already there.

Disproportionate Reaction Zombies. Infected who are outwardly human, complete with language, mannerisms, and memories..... and completely stripped of any emotional response to negative stimuli that doesn’t involve clawing the source to death, before going right back to whatever they were doing.

Society shambles on in a pathetic mockery of what came before. Entire Offices are filled with infected and a handful of human survivors, all going about their jobs. Every hour or so, someone tells an annoying joke at the water cooler and the sounds of mauling carry across the cube farm. Usually, this is ignored. Sometimes, a more sensitive infected prickles at the noise, blood pouring out of their nostrils, and they tear down the hall to murder the murderer. They trip a third infected on the way over, and they start clawing each other. Blood splashes on the pristine dress of a passing secretary. Her paper work is ruined. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a well-worn machete as blood starts to gush from her eyes. 

A wave of violence starts to consume the office, Mayhem style,  as the few uninfected workers sigh and head to the restroom to ride it out. It’s survivable at first, because they’re rarely the most irritating thing in the environment when these rolling gigabrawls go down. But in the long run it’s unsustainable, because the infected, when they return to docility, don’t notice anything wrong. They’ll stab a friend to death and remember them fondly in their next sentence, without being able to articulate exactly what they did. If you force them to acknowledge it directly, they find it quite annoying. And so it goes.

Eventually, the world is riddled with corpses, and the remaining infected are locked into a near constant state of rage from the frustration of trying to carry out their normal lifestyles while being unable to acknowledge that most of the people facilitating that lifestyle are dead. The infected queue up at the coffee shop for hours or days, unable to register that the barista has in two pieces behind the counter since she got an infecteds order wrong. They pack into bus stations, unable to acknowledge that the bus they’re waiting on his crashed into a telephone pole twenty feet away. Inevitably, someone sneezes, and everyone turns on each other. Uninfected survivors, if seen, are called upon to explain what’s happening, which they can’t do satisfactorily. This ends poorly.

After a few months, asking any variant of “Do you know what’s going on?” merits being instantly shot to death, and Vicious Taunts at a distance become a common way for the uninfected to vet each other.

Schroedinger’s Zombies. Standard issue Romero zombies, with the caveat that they fade out of our reality when no humans are within a few hundred feet of them, unconsciously retreating to a mirror dimension akin to the Upside Down from Stranger Things. Vast hordes march across the Midwest, undetectable to the human eye unless their course brings them through a populated town, or until it they inevitably hit one of the coasts. They can’t detect living humans while in their mirror dimension, so they’re forced to wander at random; zombie attacks are purely a numbers game.

 An entire industry springs up around trying to track where the zombies are likely to emerge, based on what areas have gone dark or reported an abnormal number of missing persons. The Parks department gets clever, building heavily fortified waystations throughout the interior, staffed with enough people to trigger the dimensional shift effect, in the hopes that they’ll be able to catch the edges of larger hordes and extrapolate the size from there. Towns build walls at the radius necessary to keep away the infected, holding back phantom armies that number in the thousands without being at all detectable. “Chance of Zombies” become another inclement condition like bad rain; one more thing to pay attention to in your morning weather report.

Over time, the world grows quieter. More and more towns seem to be empty, although they stop being empty when you try to loot them. As armored caravans tear down the crumbling highways, ghostly figures fade in and out of being in the fields, coming home for a confusing second before the living move on and the dead fade back out to their netherworld, only briefly stimulated.

[nanoland]

new chapter (supernatural fic)

(Also on AO3.) 

Clean Hands, part 4 

Crowley/Dean Winchester/Castiel 

Warning: Demon deals, violence, mention of abuse and torture. Also: Crowley is an abuse + addiction survivor and also a cold-hearted arsehole with very little respect or empathy for abuse + addiction survivors, and this story is written from his POV. 

0 

What was there to be done when you were enamoured of a man who hit you?

Leave him! the whole world cried back in one voice.

Which was a bit like telling someone trapped in a burning car to get out of the car. Yes. Quite. Thank you. Fully agree. But what if, for a moment, you assumed I wasn’t as stupid as a fucking dog?

That, incidentally, was one of a handful of ways the world had worsened since Crowley last drew breath.

Back in the fourteenth century, the women in the marketplace had noted his black eye and torn dress with immediate understanding. Instead of insisting he pack his bags and walk out of the house belonging to his wealthy shoemaker husband, the father of his child, the man on whom his safety and good reputation and continued ability to eat depended, the man he, for some fucking reason, still loved, they’d actually tried to help.

Sybil had given him willow bark for the pain. Rose had engaged him in long, rambling conversations, stretching the minutes until he had to return home. Jane had walked across the village and rapped on his door every evening she could, always armed with solid excuses, just when the bastard was well and truly in his cups and looking for something to damage.

If ever analytical minds were to try to account for Crowley’s misanthropy and sadism, they couldn’t honestly conclude that either was due to his never experiencing true, heartfelt human kindness.

Yes, Sybil and Rose and Jane had all thought he was a woman and addressed him accordingly, and it had hurt. But that wasn’t their fault. He’d not had the courage to tell them otherwise.

Crowley didn’t regret much. Regret, in this game, was a slow-killing poison.

Still, he did occasionally wonder how things might have turned out if he’d accepted Jane’s invitation and fled with her to London that one warm night, rather than hanging in for years until he finally snapped and beat his husband’s skull into tooth-sized pieces with an iron kettle.

Returning to the present:

As Crowley watched Dean’s fist barrel towards his face, and not for the first time, he reviewed the pros and cons of incinerating him with hellfire.

When fist and nose were one millionth of an inch apart, he teleported across the room.

“Squirrel,” he sighed, “this has nothing to do with you.”

Dean charged and took another swing at him. “Fuck you! He worked so hard! Clean for four years, you piece of shit!”

This time, Crowley reappeared sitting on top of the dead man’s wardrobe, where Dean couldn’t reach him. “Good for him. His family and friends won’t remember him as the thieving, lying wretch he was ten years ago when he sold his soul for a pound of meth. They’ll probably give him a nice funeral.”

“Why couldn’t you make an exception? Just once?”

“That’s not how this works, Dean! It wasn’t even my deal! The contract is in the hands of a relatively inexperienced subordinate and honestly, I’m glad that she pulled it off. She’s got potential. This is her first real win. It’ll increase her standing in Hell and make her more powerful, which will be useful because some older demons have taken to bullying h-…”

“I don’t give a damn about your minions,” he snarled, picking up a lamp sprinkled with blood and throwing it at him. Crowley ducked. “Every last one of you can take an angel blade to the face, for all I care. You’re fucking parasites.”

Evenly, Crowley replied, “Yes. We are. You know that. You’ve always known that. Why are you having a fit about it now? Good people get dragged to Hell all the time.”

Dean stared down at what remained of Martin Booke, now that the hellhounds had left. “He worked so hard. Christ. You could have made an exception. He came to us and I swore I’d help him out.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have cocking well done that, should you?” Crowley cried, throwing up his hands.

Eyes wet, Dean sneered at him. “Parasite. Get out of my sight before I wring your evil neck.”

Crowley left.

Upon arriving back in Hell, he went to the Admissions Department.

The soul of Martin Booke was sitting in one of the cheap blue plastic chairs, knees drawn up to his chest. Probably still reeling from the trauma of the hounds ripping his throat out, though no damage was evident on his form now.

“Mr Booke,” Crowley said, sauntering up with his hands in his pockets. “Could you come with me, please?”

A door appeared in the nearest wall and swung open silently.

Once they were both standing inside Crowley’s office, it swung shut and dissolved into nothingness.

Moving to his liquor cabinet, Crowley said, “I hear you’re a Harvard man.”

“Um… y-yeah. Yes. I was.” Thin voice. Midwestern accent.

“Promising career ahead of you before things – ah – went awry.”

Booke swallowed. “Tom. First boyfriend. Got me into meth. Got me into a lot of stuff. I figured it was okay because we were gonna be together forever and as long as I had him, I’d be fine. Then he went and died and I had to pick up the pieces on my own.”

Smiling thinly, Crowley said, “Isn’t romance grand? As it happens, you may still get your happily ever after. Thomas Abbott is currently waiting in the eternal queue – which, ordinarily, is where you’d be headed.”

“Yeah. Dean told me. Although… um…”

“You have a question? Spit it out. Cowards bore me.”

“Dean said that when you sell your soul, you go to Hell and demons torture you until you become a demon. But he also told me about the queue thing. So that’s confusing. I mean, queuing sucks but it’s not torture.”

Crowley poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat down behind his desk. “Clever boy. Yes; when I became King of Hell, I restructured things. Most of you end up in the queue. The hot knives and whips are a speciality service and, as such, are reserved for our elite clientele. The pedos and Nazis and so forth – and, of course, anyone who pisses me off too much. As for the process of becoming a demon; that doesn’t actually require torture. I know! Surprised me too! We always thought it did, back when Lilith was in charge. Then I started running some tests and it turns out that becoming a demon is a bit like catching a virus; it’ll happen to anyone who hangs around other demons long enough. Everyone in the queue will have black eyes by the end of their first century.”

Booke took off his glasses and nervously rubbed them on his sleeve. “You said that ‘ordinarily’ I’d go to the queue. So am I an – uh – ‘elite client’?”

“Hah! No. Your little life was staggeringly boring and barely impacted anyone in ways either negative or positive. No, the reason you’re here is Harvard. See, I had a snoop and it seems that before you dropped out, you were getting bloody good grades.”

A wistful smile. “I guess. Had big dreams, once.”

Sipping his bourbon, Crowley said, “On track for a Master’s in aeronautical engineering, I believe.”

“Yep. I wanted to work for NASA.”

“Cards on the table, Booke: I might have a job for you. There is, at present, space in one or two of our departments for a man with your talents. But first I need to ask a question.”

He cocked his head. “Um. Sure? Anything’s better than what I was expecting. Shoot.”

“Do you know how to crash a spaceship?”

[theleakypen]

Luo Qingyang in Lanling

@mdzsnet​ CQL anniversary. Day 7 - One year with CQL! (free prompt)

Part 2 here!

Luo Qingyang and her small family are following the rumour of a pack of ghouls in the forest on the Lanling-Gusu border. Zhuoying is carrying little Mianmian on his shoulders and pointing out the different kinds of trees and bushes they pass. Mianmian is getting big enough that Zhuoying won’t be able to carry her so easily for much longer, but for now she crows with delight at the extra height and peppers her father with questions about the plants he calls to her attention. Luo Qingyang listens to their conversation with only half an ear; the rest of her attention is on the forest, on her sense of resentful energy that is steadily growing stronger, though it’s still faint.

An hour later, they are deep in the forest, well away from human habitation. Mianmian is now walking between her parents, one hand in her father’s. Luo Qingyang’s grip on her sword tightens as the ambient resentful energy increases. Suddenly, they hear the sounds of fighting ahead of them—clashing of metal, shouts, the eerie bestial roar of unnatural creatures. Luo Qingyang draws her sword; it hums in her hand, responding to the resentful energy just ahead. “Stay hidden,” she tells Zhuoying. He nods and picks up Mianmian again, holding her tightly as they creep forward. Luo Qingyang walks resolutely toward the sounds of battle. Whoever is fighting might have the situation under control, or they might need help. Help she can provide.

It is... a lot of ghouls. There is nothing that can properly be termed a clearing here, so the cultivators battle the ghouls around trees and bushes. As Luo Qingyang approaches, she sees a young man in Lan robes push off the trunk of a tree to escape the reaching claws of one ghoul; he uses his momentum to slash off the head of another. It’s hard to tell in all the mayhem, but she spots the telltale robes of several different sects—Jin, Lan, Jiang, and a few minor sects she just barely recognizes by sight; one of them might be Ouyang, she thinks.

Luo Qingyang takes in the shape of the battle in the moments between one step and the next; she spots one of the Jin cultivators backed up against a tree with three ghouls pressing in on all sides and decides that’s as good a spot as any to provide help. She leaps into the fray sword-first, cutting through one ghoul’s legs and another’s arm in a single diagonal slash. The Jin disciple spares one moment to gape at her before turning their attention to the third ghoul. Luo Qingyang finishes off the two ghouls she had disabled before turning away, looking for another situation that might require her aid.

That’s when she sees Suihua.

She freezes.

The distinctive glare of her dead friend’s sword crashes into a cluster of ghouls, sending them stumbling back. One of the ghouls is hit dead on and collapses into a disjoint collection of body parts.

Luo Qingyang looks around for the source of the sword glare and sees Jin Zixuan’s son for the first time in her life. His face is contorted into a scowl of concentration as he kicks away a ghoul. He’s back to back with one of the Lan cultivators, both of them defending another Lan disciple who has a qin out and is playing with a look of steady concentration on his face.

Jin Rulan, she remembers, That’s his name. The new Jin-zongzhu.

News of his accession had come to Guangling a few months after she and her family had run into Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. News of the upheaval of the entire cultivation world. At the time, she had thought about traveling to Lanling. Zhuoying had been supportive, if nervous. In the end, she had decided not to. The young man would need powerful allies at this time and what had she, a rogue cultivator who had rejected allegiance to the sect before Jin Ling had even been conceived, to offer him?

A group of disciples from various sects are battling their way toward Jin Rulan and the Lan boys. Luo Qingyang shakes herself out of her reverie and jumps to help.

A Jiang disciple sends a pair of talismans over her shoulder and she whirls to see two ghouls frozen in place. She nods her thanks to the young woman and then beheads them both. The talismans, used up, burn to ash.

It takes more than an hour from Luo Qingyang’s arrival at the scene before every last ghoul is either dead or disabled. Several of the cultivators are wounded and all of them are winded, even she. 

A young man in Ouyang burgundy directs several of his fellow disciples to start gathering the ghouls’ bodies in the one open space between the trees. Another minor sect disciple takes out a medical kit from her qiankun pouch and a small queue of the wounded develops in front of her. Luo Qingyang leans against a nearby tree while she cleans her sword and watches the bustle, watches Jin Zixuan’s son out of the corner of one eye, trying to decide if she wants to approach him now.

The Jin disciple she had first helped approaches her cautiously. She finishes wiping down her sword and sheathes it as they approach. “Thank you for your help earlier, qianbei,” they say, bowing politely. “May I ask your name?”

“Luo Qingyang,” she says, returning their bow. “I was following the rumours of a pack of ghouls, but I had no idea it would be this large. Is this why there are representatives of so many sects gathered here?”

The Jin disciple rubs the back of their neck, laughing sheepishly. “Actually, it’s kind of become a tradition for all of us to get together like this and go looking for trouble. Last year, a bunch of us were trapped together in Luanzang Gang, and we... kinda bonded over it?” They shrug a little, then smile brightly at her. “Anyway, I’m Jin Ruwei. You should come meet Jin-zongzhu!”

“Oh, I—” she hesitates for a moment longer. Then, What are you even afraid of, Mianmian? she demands of herself. “I would be honored,” she says at last. “But first, is it all right for my husband and child to join us?”

“Your—” Jin Ruwei startles and looks around, as if wondering where another adult cultivator might have hidden, and then nods. “I don’t see why not.”

“My husband’s not a cultivator,” Luo Qingyang explains, smiling. “He’s waiting with my daughter until it’s safe.”

“Oh, well. Uh. It should be safe enough now, I think.”

Luo Qingyang grins at the young Jin. Marrying non-cultivators must not have occurred to them as even an option. Well, leaving the Jin sect was good for her in a lot of ways. She purses her lips and whistles a short series of notes, their agreed-upon “all clear” signal. Then, she pushes off from the tree she’d been leaning on and looks around. Soon enough, Zhuoying and Mianmian walk in from between several trees. Mianmian runs the last few steps to her and Luo Qingyang picks her up, swinging her high.

“A-niang was so cool!” Mianmian announces, before looking around the not-quite-clearing. “This is a lot of people.”

“It is indeed,” Luo Qingyang agrees. Then she turns to Jin Ruwei. “You wanted to introduce me to Jin-zongzhu?” Zhuoying startles at that and looks around. He knows what Sect Master Jin means to her.

“Uh, right.” Jin Ruwei can’t quite hide their curiosity as they look at Zhuoying and Mianmian, but they turn and lead her and her family into the crowd of cultivators. ~~

Notes:

I named Mr. Mianmian 周卓颖 | Zhou Zhuoying (Outstanding & clever; what can I say, his parents had high hopes for him).

小绵绵｜Lil’ Mianmian probably has a proper name too but I haven’t come up with it and LQY and husband probably will call her exclusively Mianmian until she’s old enough to object. XD

I spent like two hours trying to name Mianmian’s sword but I just really want to get this fic done so it hasn’t happened. If any of you have ideas, pls let me know.

Jin Ruwei is of Jin Ling’s generation, hence the 如 in their courtesy name. The wei is 薇, a species of fern (also known as royal fern or flowering fern), according to Wiktionary.

Also god dammit, I think I need to continue this, because this feels like a good chapter break. So uh, call it part 1 of post-canon Luo Qingyang & Jin Ling fic?

[ohayohimawari]

On Tumblr-ing

I used the most recent Self-promotion Sunday to experiment with sharing my works on Tumblr. As everyone knows, this site is difficult to get a handle on.

Is it worth it to play nice with this site, so my posts show up in tags?

That’s the question that I wanted the answer to and why I chose to fill my queue with all of my original works for one day but posted them in a way that I hadn’t before. I’m not an expert on Tumblr, but I’ll share what I’ve learned from it. However, my observations aren’t going to be helpful to all.

The situation: I create fanfics and podfics. I don’t typically create for popular ships or tropes. I fall in the category of content creators that are no longer new but aren’t battle-hardened fandom veterans.

If any/all of the above applies to you, and you’ve experienced frustration with having your work ‘seen’ on Tumblr, and you’d rather read about someone else’s experiment with this site than do one yourself, keep reading.

First, realistically consider what content you share and how it appears to someone scrolling through the site. For example: sharing fanfic and sharing fanart on Tumblr are two totally different beasts. I cannot overstate the importance of this fact. Be fair to yourself and don’t compare your stats as a writer to those of an artist.

Another thing to remember about sharing your written works to Tumblr is that you’re asking someone to click a link to view/read it. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it is.

Imagine a member of your target audience laying in bed in the morning, waiting for the need for breakfast or coffee to be great enough to coax them out from under their blankets. In the meantime, they’re scrolling down their dash (and what appears is dependent upon how they filter posts, but that’s a whole other box I’m not going to unpack here). They’re laughing at memes, getting riled up over politics or social issues, gasping at celebrity controversies, wishing for the days before Tumblr purged the naughty stuff, cute baby animal videos, etc. It’s so easy for a text post to get lost in all of that. It’s too easy for a text post to be overlooked in all of that.

It’s important for posts to show up in tags because sometimes, people don’t just scroll through their dash. Sometimes, they search tags for something specific, and when they find it, they’re more inclined to click on that link to check out your stuff.

I’m going to reel it back to myself and explain why I played with posts and tags. I run a fandom server, and I see folks (mostly new to fandom) who feel bad because their works don’t get many notes on Tumblr. During my first year in fandom, I felt invisible, and it was awful. I want to give advice and encouragement, so I experimented with making my posts visible in tags to see what kind of difference it would make, or not make. I’m going to be the first to say that if I created for popular ships, or popular tropes, or a hot and thriving new fandom, or were a BNF, I probably would’ve seen a huge difference. While what I experienced wasn’t an immediate tidal wave of new admirers of my work, I see how this could increase my readers and listeners over time.

Tumblr, in its infinite wisdom (???), hides posts that have linked works within them. So how do you share a link to your work and have it show up in tags? AO3 has a handy ‘share’ button at the top of your individual works (if you don’t see the magical ‘share’ button, check your account settings to confirm that it’s on). You can share your work directly to Tumblr or Twitter (an even worse site for promoting fanfic) and add bells and whistles to the post, and customize it with what tags you think should be assigned to it.

When it comes to tagging, start with the biggest first, and put the most important in the first five tags. For example: Fandom, pairing, characters, and genre tags should be listed first. Do create a unique tag for yourself to tack on at the end (more on this later). Don’t add tags for popular characters, genres, pairings, etc., that don’t appear in your work.

For the purpose of my experiment, I didn’t add any snazzy images or gifs to my posts. I simply shared the post from AO3 and added tags. I shared all different pairings, genres, and content of various ratings. They appeared utterly unremarkable to me. They were boring, and exactly like something that I, myself, would scroll past. However, I did it that way because the more you add to a post, the more you risk using a word or image that Tumblr doesn’t like. And if it doesn’t like it, your post simply won’t show up in tags. Then you’re left with dissecting your post and editing editing editing until you figure out which word or image was the offender.

At the end of the experiment, I had to conclude that I receive more immediate activity on posts that I draft on this site that include links to my work, even though those don’t show up in tags. I’m going to assume that’s because those original posts are more attractive. However, most of the slight interaction that I saw with my experimental posts were from new-to-me Tumblr users, and I earned some new followers from it. The fact that those posts now reside in tags means that I can expect more of that in small doses, in the future.

Will this change how I post new works going forward? Yes. Typically, I draft an original post linking my work, then reblog it for my followers in different time zones. Now, I’ll share that same work from AO3 in a new original post instead of reblogging the initial one. But I’m going to try to make them look more interesting, and hope they still show up in tags.

I learned from this, but I want to stress something to content creators who feel invisible and get down on themselves for it. There are a million reasons why posts don’t get traction on Tumblr, and they are not because people don’t like your work. Basing your work’s worth on statistics is incredibly unfair to yourself. However difficult that is to ignore, don’t do that to yourselves.

I once shared something that I was proud of writing. Then, I cried for three days straight and ate my entire ice cream supply because it received fewer hits than I have fingers, never mind kudos or comments. Then I realized that I shared it on the same night as the GoT finale. Facepalm.

The joy that comes from creating something new is (or should be) the reason you do it. Congratulate yourself on being so incredibly clever to come up with your work and brave enough to share it on the wilds of the internet where it will remain for someone to find and love. And when your gem of a work is found, make sure you’ve added a unique tag that is all your own to it, so that others can search that tag and binge on all the beauty you’ve made.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Untamed Winter Fest Day 4

Decorating

Wei Wuxian sits still, while A-Yuan is decorating his hair with all the beads and clips he could find, and some, Wei Wuxian is sure about that, he stole from kindergarten. 

“Almost done, baba,” A-Yuan tells him as he yanks at yet another strand of hair before his clumsy chubby fingers clip a no doubt sparkling bead into it, and Wei Wuxian patiently waits until A-Yuan deems his hair to be pretty enough.

“Are you sure you have enough clips?” Wei Wuxian asks teasingly when yet another ten minutes pass, and he can almost see A-Yuan pout behind him.

“It’s too much hair,” A-Yuan tells him seriously as he puts two clips in rapid succession into his hair and Wei Wuxian laughs.

“Wait until you have your hair grown out, then I’ll be the one to put all the pretty sparkling things into it!” he says and spins around to tickle A-Yuan.

“Noooo,” he shrieks, clumsily pushing Wei Wuxian’s hands away but he’s laughing and that’s the only thing that matters.

A-Yuan didn’t have anything to laugh about for way too long now.

A-Yuan finally gets away from Wei Wuxian, and he takes the opportunity to dash away, his little feet carrying him through the apartment as quick as they can, and Wei Wuxian takes off after him, careful to always just be one step behind him.

A-Yuan’s happy shrieks fill the rooms and Wei Wuxian’s heart blooms with the sound of it. 

He skids to a stop in front of a mirror, exaggerating gasp leaving his lips and it’s enough to bring A-Yuan back, peering around the corner in case it’s a trick.

A-Yuan knows him too well already, Wei Wuxian fondly thinks, before he concentrates back on his reflection.

“Who is this handsome man in the mirror?” he asks and turns his head this and that way, making the beads sparkle. “Look at his pretty hair! I wonder what master did the decorating?” he muses and A-Yuan giggles before he runs forward to hug Wei Wuxian’s leg. 

“I did, I did!” he tells Wei Wuxian.

“And you did such a pretty job!” Wei Wuxian tells him, leaning down to pick A-Yuan up and lift him high, getting more happy giggles out of the boy.

Wei Wuxian hopes he can protect him forever.

“Where did you get all of the clips anyway?” Wei Wuxian asks as he settles A-Yuan on his hip and he immediately reaches out to play with a rainbow one in Wei Wuxian’s hair.

“Aunt Qing gave them to me,” he tells Wei Wuxian.

He wonders when Wen Qing had the time to stop by the kindergarten, wonders if it was safe for them, but he shakes his head at that thought. Wen Qing would never do anything to put A-Yuan into danger. 

“Did she say anything about your Uncle Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks but A-Yuan shakes his head.

Still in a coma then, Wei Wuxian thinks and presses a kiss to A-Yuan’s cheek.

“Do you want to take a picture of your work, so you can show Aunt Qing the next time you see her?” he asks, and A-Yuan immediately lights up again, nodding vigorously. 

“Then go get the phone,” Wei Wuxian says and puts A-Yuan back down, just as the doorbell rings.

They both freeze for a second, Wei Wuxian because their time on the run is still too close, too present, and A-Yuan because he is too clever for his age and knows when to keep quiet.

“Go to your room,” Wei Wuxian quietly tells him, because they are not expecting anyone, and better to be safe than sorry.

“Yes, baba,” A-Yuan says and shuffles away.

Wei Wuxian waits until the door is closed behind him, before he goes to the front door.

By now he really wishes they had gotten the heavy security system Wen Qing had insisted on, just so he could check who was on the other side of the door without actually opening it, but he had declined that offer in an attempt to appear normal.

It was important for A-Yuan to not stand out too much.

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath before he plasters a smile on his face as he opens the door, but as soon as he sees who’s on the other side, it falls away again.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, the longing hitting him so suddenly and so hard that he almost reaches out for him the moment he sees him.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, a relieved note to his voice and Wei Wuxian’s eyes burn at hearing his voice.

But then reality settles back in, and it’s like he was doused in ice cold water. 

“How much time do we have?” he asks, trying to push the desperation down and focus.

They have been here for barely more than half a year, after almost three on the run to get Jin Guangshan off their trail, and A-Yuan has finally made some friends, adjusted to this new life.

Of course it would come to a crashing end now.

Lan Zhan just stares at him, and Wei Wuxian steps forward, takes his arm and shakes him a little bit.

“Lan Zhan, how much time do we have?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again, like he can’t believe he found him and Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“Tell me, when did you tell your brother? How much time do A-Yuan and I have?” he demands to know but Lan Zhan just stares at him like he doesn’t understand.

Wei Wuxian wants to believe it, that Lan Zhan doesn’t know what’s going on, but even if he doesn’t Lan Xichen must have helped him find Wei Wuxian. And if Lan Xichen knows, then so does Jin Guangyao, who certainly told his father.

Which means Wei Wuxian maybe has an hour at most to get A-Yuan and run.

“Baba?” A-Yuan suddenly asks from behind him, and Wei Wuxian moves in front of him on instinct, trying to shield him from Lan Zhan.

He sees the hurt on Lan Zhan’s face at that, the confusion there too, but he can’t let that matter, no matter how much it pains him to see that. 

The only thing that matters is A-Yuan.

“Do we have to leave again?” A-Yuan asks, voice small and shaking and Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head.

“Yes, baby. Get your stuff,” he instructs, glad he always keeps an emergency bag packed for both of them.

“I don’t wanna leave again,” A-Yuan whispers and Wei Wuxian can hear the tears in his voice.

He thinks if A-Yuan starts crying now, he’ll just cry with him.

“I know,” he tries to calm him down. “But they found us and so we have to leave.”

“Is he an evil man?” A-Yuan asks and peers around Wei Wuxian’s legs to look at Lan Zhan.

“No, he’s not,” Wei Wuxian says, because that, at least, is something he knows with certainty. 

Lan Zhan would never deliberately hand them over to Jin Guangshan, Wei Wuxian is sure of that. But it doesn’t change the fact that he shares everything with his brother, who is wrapped around Jin Guangyao’s little finger.

“Then why do we have to leave? I don’t wanna leave, I have friends here! Why do you always make us leave, I hate you!” A-Yuan suddenly screams and now the tears Wei Wuxian was keeping at bay really threaten to fall.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says alarmed, steps into the apartment, arm outstretched as if to comfort Wei Wuxian, but he picks up A-Yuan and retreats further into the apartment.

“Don’t--I can’t--why did you have to come look for us?” he asks, voice shaking and he hates himself for it.

He has missed Lan Zhan so much these past years, always wished that he could somehow contact him, hear his voice again, but he couldn’t endanger A-Yuan like that.

“You just left,” Lan Zhan says, like that explains anything and Wei Wuxian shakes his head at him.

“I had to,” he whispers, presses A-Yuan close him as he strokes a soothing hand up and down his back. “I had to protect him.”

Wei Wuxian still remembers when Wen Qing stood at his doorstep, run down and shaking, an exhausted A-Yuan on her hip and her brother fresh in the hospital. It had taken Wei Wuxian barely an hour to pack his things and run with A-Yuan. 

He was supposed to meet with Lan Zhan that evening.

Lan Zhan tears his eyes away from Wei Wuxian for the first time since he opened the door and he looks at A-Yuan, who is still sniffling slightly. Wei Wuxian fights the instinct to shield him again, reminds himself that Lan Zhan himself is not a danger, but it’s hard. Three years is a lot of time to form some habits.

“He’s a Wen,” Lan Zhan finally whispers and Wei Wuxian flinches.

“He goes by Wei Yuan, now,” he gives back.

He still remembers the first time he held the forged papers in his hands, how he wished it could be true, that A-Yuan was truly his, but it was just the most practical thing at that time.

“Your son,” Lan Zhan nods, and he closes the door behind him, causing Wei Wuxian to flinch.

Lan Zhan sees it, and he uncertainly steps away from the door. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says, as if Wei Wuxian could ever think he would.

“That’s not it, Lan Zhan,” he tries to explain. “But if you’re here, your brother knows, he helped you, and if he knows, then so does Jin Guangyao. You know how your brother is. He probably didn’t mean to, but he will have told him and Jin Guangyao just wants to please his dad. We have to leave, now.”

“Not my brother,” Lan Zhan explains with a shake of his head. “Yours.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian breathes out and the longing slams into him again hard.

He misses his family so much.

“We had two possible locations,” Lan Zhan explains and just on queue his phone starts to ring.

Lan Zhan holds it out for Wei Wuxian to see, the name ‘Jiang Wanyin’ flashing brightly on the screen and Wei Wuxian takes it with shaking hands.

He accepts the call and presses it to his ear.

“He’s not here, so you better tell me you found him, Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng’s voice fills Wei Wuxian’s ear, and he can hear the worry under the angry demand and he can’t help the sob that breaks through.

There is silence on the other end of the line.

“Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks and now Wei Wuxian cries for real.

“You goddamn fucking idiot,” Jiang Cheng snaps and Wei Wuxian laughs through his tears because of course. 

It wouldn’t be Jiang Cheng if he wasn’t abrasive like this.

“You’re going to come home,” Jiang Cheng demands. “A-jie has been worried sick about you.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” Wei Wuxian mumbles, because A-Yuan is still his priority. 

Has to be, no matter how much he misses everyone.

Lan Zhan carefully slides the phone out of his hand and puts the call on speaker.

“He has the boy,” he tells Jiang Cheng who mutters “Of course” under his breath.

“They are going to come home,” Jiang Cheng says again and Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“I can’t, A-Yuan--,”

“Will be safe,” Jiang Cheng interrupts him. “I know you didn’t trust us with this, but we’ve been building a case against Jin Guangshan. We need you to come home.”

“A case?” Wei Wuxian asks and looks with wide eyes at Lan Zhan.

“Mh,” he agrees. “We’re missing a witness. We’re missing you.”

“A-Xian, you can come home,” Jiang Cheng says and his voice is uncharacteristically soft.

Wei Wuxian blames that for the new tears.

“Baba?” A-Yuan asks and puts his little hands on Wei Wuxian’s face, tries to wipe the tears away.

“We’re going home, baby,” Wei Wuxian tells him and really, the way A-Yuan’s face lights up could be his only reason to live.

“Home to Uncle Ning and Aunt Qing and Grandma?” he shrieks and Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Zhan for an answer.

He doesn’t know if Grandma made it out in time, but Lan Zhan nods.

“Yes, baby,” Wei Wuxian gladly tells him, and almost chokes when A-Yuan throws his arms around his neck and squeezes tight.

Wei Wuxian keeps his eyes on Lan Zhan, sees how his features soften and he has missed him so much.

“I didn’t mean to leave you,” he whispers, doesn’t know if he’s still allowed to say things like that to him, but Lan Zhan smiles faintly at him, the one Wei Wuxian loves best, the one that’s mostly visible in the corner of his eyes.

“I know that,” Lan Zhan says and reaches out for Wei Wuxian, takes his hand and pulls him close, so that he can press a lingering kiss to Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “Won’t let you or A-Yuan go again, now,” he promises and Wei Wuxian is yet again stunned just how good Lan Zhan is.

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian agrees, because it’s everything he wants in his life.

It will be okay now.

[romioneficfest]

Week 5 Digest

Good evening/afternoon/morning to all of our subscribers, where we are now wrapping up this fest and let me say that we should give a hearty round of applause to all of our amazing Mystery Authors who have contributed to the fest. There are 39 lovely entries submitted and I have enjoyed every single one of them (But Mod Draig doesn’t play favourites, only that they are now not mine to hoard but for everyone to enjoy to the fullest.)

As of this post, all entries have been published. Yes, Gentle Readers, the Queue is now empty.

As of yet, no names will be published yet but it is coming once the voting has wrapped up and a winner chosen. (I am already working on the coding for that post and will only have to have it ready to go once the final vote is in for the overall winner.

Authors will be announced once the voting closes for the final. Once the Author Reveals go up, the Authors are free from their Non-Disclosure notice and are free to post anywhere. That will be Thursday 7pm GMT Thursday, 15 July 2021.

(I have to finish that day since it’s the spouse’s B’day and we are having 3 days of celebrations for him. It’s a rather memorable trip around the sun celebration and thus too busy to do anything with the fest.)

I hope everyone who has read and reblogged (and liked!) will give a hearty Huzzah for everyone who submitted a story. They all have my upmost respect for having the courage to submit something they worked so hard on for all of us to appreciate.

To tip a glass of anything you enjoy drinking (yes, including water!) to our lovely writers to date - and stay tuned shortly for the announcement on the Voting (along with the paradigm on how I came up with the process and who has checked it for the most fair ethics available (including verified by @abradystrix​ who gladly said yes on validation on the way I have the voting set - and the transparency on how it is done (and published.)

Week 1 Digest:

Bottom of the Bottle Summary:  He’s been search for the answer in Firewhiskey but it’s never been there.

And I’m in love with every color of you Summary: He fills her rainbow. Every color is made better because of him. Before and After Brief summary: It’s hard to remember before.

The Curious case of the light switch Summary: Why can’t Ron ever turn off a light switch?

Theirs and Ours Summary: Who knew babysitting 4 kids would make Hermione doubt herself and the future of the Weasley-Granger household?

Week 2 Digest:

Thirty Years Summary: She’d laid it all out, beginning to end. A whole life, theirs.

Ever so Smart and Clever Summary: Hermione is visiting Grimmauld Place in her Christmas holidays and Ron has just gotten his results back from an exam at Auror Training.

Dreams Summary: the line between dreams and reality can sometimes blur in brilliant ways

Little Unicorn Day Center Summary:  Hermione Granger runs the Little Unicorn Day Center and meets one of the Dads and is smitten. Is it so wrong to appreciate a charge’s dad?

Mine Summary:  A newborn Hugo refuses to sleep. Can Rose be the answer to the young parents finally getting some sleep?

I Need You Summary:  A Romione Ficlet inspired by the TV Show New Girl Season 2: Episode 15 “Cooler”

I Knew it would be You Summary:  Seventh Year AU when Ron and Hermione receive their final Hogwarts letters.

Week 3 Digest:

Just a Snog Summary: 6th Year AU - Ron confronts Hermione immediately following his row with Ginny.

Nice to Meet You Summary: “The moment I first saw her, I knew I was in trouble.” A muggle university AU one-shot featuring Ron/Hermione.

Right Here, Right Now Summary: Ron and Hermione share a tender moment under the stars during the summer following the Battle.

Double Hazelnut Almond Milk Macchiato Summary: Muggle AU. Hermione Granger is new in town, and she has a pretty complicated coffee order.

Early Morning Light Summary: Ron and Hermione in the early hours of the morning at Shell Cottage

Warm Summary: Hermione decides to reconcile with Ron after the poisoning, and learns something interesting.

Pen-Y-Fan Summary: Hermione wakes Ron up crazily early to climb the side of a mountain. Whilst he grumbles at first, he soon discovers that the view is worth it.

Week 4 Digest:

Valeria summary: Sometimes someone steps into your life when you least expect it. Ron and Hermione had made a lot of life changing decisions together, and this is the beginning of another.

The Promise summary: Ron goes missing and Hermione reacts

The Right Decision summary: Hermione questions her decision to return to Hogwarts for her seventh year.

Why am I so ugly? summary: This takes place in the 6th year when Harry drinks the Felix Felicis potion and “make” Lavender broke up with Ron. He goes out for hours in his missing to pursuit Slughorn. Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione got some time alone.

Sleepy (M Rated) summary: This takes place 2 years after the war. Ron and Hermione were together, but as there are not married yet, Mrs. Weasley still prefers them to sleep in separate rooms. The whole family was at the Burrow for Christmas.

Saying the Words summary: Ron works up the courage to tell Hermione something important. Then he has to do it again.

Scared of losing You summary: Hermione wakes up for the first time not knowing where she is. Fortunately, someone is there by her side.

Week 5 Digest

A Practical Stranger Summary: Hermione receives assistance from someone who may not be as much of a stranger to her as she initially thinks.

 A Little Motivation Summary: Ron and Hermione share a very intimate moment after a long day of work.

Will they or won’t they Summary: The last few days have been stressful, what with the recent attack on Mr. Weasley. So, Sirius does the last thing he can think of to help the teens relax now that they know Mr. Weasley is going to be okay.

Until the very end Summary: Hermione and Ron find solace with each other in the days following Malfoy Manor.

The Beholder Summary: Hermione is not happy with the way she looks in her new lingerie.

Sod It summary: Parks and Rec Crossover from the episode “Smallest Park”. Hermione and Ron are Leslie and Ben. Most of the dialogue is taken from the scene in the episode.

Tutor Girl Summary: Inspired by One Tree Hill Season 1 Episode 3 - Are You True?

Defender Summary: During rounds, Hermione sees something that gives hope.

The Second Gift Summary: Hermione ponders Ron’s intentions after receiving perfume as her Christmas gift. She makes a hasty decision to attempt to give him something that’s more meaningful than a ridiculous homework planner.

Flutter Summary: Ron can’t sleep because Hermione can’t sleep because Rose can’t sleep.

Family Ties Summary: Hermione learns about the family ties between the Blacks and the Weasleys.

Common Ground summary: Ron’s first assignment as a Prefect for Hufflepuff is making him a little nervous: Rounds for the evening with Ace student and Ravenclaw’s school Know it All Hermione Granger.

The Fallen Hero Summary: An account of the night of escape from Malfoy Manor by the golden trio from Ron’s POV- Reference DH

 Now... for the voting.

That post (aka the parameters and rules and how to do so) will be posted at 6pm GMT today (in 2 hours) and it will be up 24 hours before the Voting opens up.

Round One will be open from Tuesday 6pm GMT through Friday 6pm GMT. It will close and I will tabulate the votes - and will have round 2 up as soon as possible afterward. Included will be a link so anyone who wishes to watch the tabulation will be added for anyone to watch me work.

With much appreciation from the bottom of my crusty, calcified black heart,

[elliejoys]

a good queue tag for doctor who fans is run you clever boy and remember queue

for the queue anon, thanks May <3

[nanoland]

posting this again in a shameless bid for attention (the usual 2-3 people who already give me plenty of attention pls ignore and also i love u <3)

(Also on AO3.) 

Clean Hands, part 4

Crowley/Dean Winchester/Castiel

Warning: Demon deals, violence, mention of abuse and torture. Also: Crowley is an abuse + addiction survivor and also a cold-hearted arsehole with very little respect or empathy for abuse + addiction survivors, and this story is written from his POV. 

0

What was there to be done when you were enamoured of a man who hit you?

Leave him! the whole world cried back in one voice.

Which was a bit like telling someone trapped in a burning car to get out of the car. Yes. Quite. Thank you. Fully agree. But what if, for a moment, you assumed I wasn’t as stupid as a fucking dog?

That, incidentally, was one of a handful of ways the world had worsened since Crowley last drew breath.

Back in the fourteenth century, the women in the marketplace had noted his black eye and torn dress with immediate understanding. Instead of insisting he pack his bags and walk out of the house belonging to his wealthy shoemaker husband, the father of his child, the man on whom his safety and good reputation and continued ability to eat depended, the man he, for some fucking reason, still loved, they’d actually tried to help.

Sybil had given him willow bark for the pain. Rose had engaged him in long, rambling conversations, stretching the minutes until he had to return home. Jane had walked across the village and rapped on his door every evening she could, always armed with solid excuses, just when the bastard was well and truly in his cups and looking for something to damage.

If ever analytical minds were to try to account for Crowley’s misanthropy and sadism, they couldn’t honestly conclude that either was due to his never experiencing true, heartfelt human kindness.

Yes, Sybil and Rose and Jane had all thought he was a woman and addressed him accordingly, and it had hurt. But that wasn’t their fault. He’d not had the courage to tell them otherwise.

Crowley didn’t regret much. Regret, in this game, was a slow-killing poison.

Still, he did occasionally wonder how things might have turned out if he’d accepted Jane’s invitation and fled with her to London that one warm night, rather than hanging in for years until he finally snapped and beat his husband’s skull into tooth-sized pieces with an iron kettle.

Returning to the present:

As Crowley watched Dean’s fist barrel towards his face, and not for the first time, he reviewed the pros and cons of incinerating him with hellfire.

When fist and nose were one millionth of an inch apart, he teleported across the room.

“Squirrel,” he sighed, “this has nothing to do with you.”

Dean charged and took another swing at him. “Fuck you! He worked so hard! Clean for four years, you piece of shit!”

This time, Crowley reappeared sitting on top of the dead man’s wardrobe, where Dean couldn’t reach him. “Good for him. His family and friends won’t remember him as the thieving, lying wretch he was ten years ago when he sold his soul for a pound of meth. They’ll probably give him a nice funeral.”

“Why couldn’t you make an exception? Just once?”

“That’s not how this works, Dean! It wasn’t even my deal! The contract is in the hands of a relatively inexperienced subordinate and honestly, I’m glad that she pulled it off. She’s got potential. This is her first real win. It’ll increase her standing in Hell and make her more powerful, which will be useful because some older demons have taken to bullying h-…”

“I don’t give a damn about your minions,” he snarled, picking up a lamp sprinkled with blood and throwing it at him. Crowley ducked. “Every last one of you can take an angel blade to the face, for all I care. You’re fucking parasites.”

Evenly, Crowley replied, “Yes. We are. You know that. You’ve always known that. Why are you having a fit about it now? Good people get dragged to Hell all the time.”

Dean stared down at what remained of Martin Booke, now that the hellhounds had left. “He worked so hard. Christ. You could have made an exception. He came to us and I swore I’d help him out.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have cocking well done that, should you?” Crowley cried, throwing up his hands.

Eyes wet, Dean sneered at him. “Parasite. Get out of my sight before I wring your evil neck.”

Crowley left.

Upon arriving back in Hell, he went to the Admissions Department.

The soul of Martin Booke was sitting in one of the cheap blue plastic chairs, knees drawn up to his chest. Probably still reeling from the trauma of the hounds ripping his throat out, though no damage was evident on his form now.

“Mr Booke,” Crowley said, sauntering up with his hands in his pockets. “Could you come with me, please?”

A door appeared in the nearest wall and swung open silently.

Once they were both standing inside Crowley’s office, it swung shut and dissolved into nothingness.

Moving to his liquor cabinet, Crowley said, “I hear you’re a Harvard man.”

“Um… y-yeah. Yes. I was.” Thin voice. Midwestern accent.

“Promising career ahead of you before things – ah – went awry.”

Booke swallowed. “Tom. First boyfriend. Got me into meth. Got me into a lot of stuff. I figured it was okay because we were gonna be together forever and as long as I had him, I’d be fine. Then he went and died and I had to pick up the pieces on my own.”

Smiling thinly, Crowley said, “Isn’t romance grand? As it happens, you may still get your happily ever after. Thomas Abbott is currently waiting in the eternal queue – which, ordinarily, is where you’d be headed.”

“Yeah. Dean told me. Although… um…”

“You have a question? Spit it out. Cowards bore me.”

“Dean said that when you sell your soul, you go to Hell and demons torture you until you become a demon. But he also told me about the queue thing. So that’s confusing. I mean, queuing sucks but it’s not torture.”

Crowley poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat down behind his desk. “Clever boy. Yes; when I became King of Hell, I restructured things. Most of you end up in the queue. The hot knives and whips are a speciality service and, as such, are reserved for our elite clientele. The pedos and Nazis and so forth – and, of course, anyone who pisses me off too much. As for the process of becoming a demon; that doesn’t actually require torture. I know! Surprised me too! We always thought it did, back when Lilith was in charge. Then I started running some tests and it turns out that becoming a demon is a bit like catching a virus; it’ll happen to anyone who hangs around other demons long enough. Everyone in the queue will have black eyes by the end of their first century.”

Booke took off his glasses and nervously rubbed them on his sleeve. “You said that ‘ordinarily’ I’d go to the queue. So am I an – uh – ‘elite client’?”

“Hah! No. Your little life was staggeringly boring and barely impacted anyone in ways either negative or positive. No, the reason you’re here is Harvard. See, I had a snoop and it seems that before you dropped out, you were getting bloody good grades.”

A wistful smile. “I guess. Had big dreams, once.”

Sipping his bourbon, Crowley said, “On track for a Master’s in aeronautical engineering, I believe.”

“Yep. I wanted to work for NASA.”

“Cards on the table, Booke: I might have a job for you. There is, at present, space in one or two of our departments for a man with your talents. But first I need to ask a question.”

He cocked his head. “Um. Sure? Anything’s better than what I was expecting. Shoot.”

“Do you know how to crash a spaceship?”